#well we survived another week of the horrors let’s get to the next one hahaha | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesleepy1 · 3 years

Text

My King Shall Have Everything

A/N: A fuck load of people seemed to like my last Merthur fic. I even got a request for a sequel from @antobcq who wanted a 5+1 fic where Arthur couldn’t get anything done without Merlin on his lap. I haven’t done one of these fics in ages but I’m down with this prompt. I also love the headcanon where Merlin is a better court member and adviser than Arthur and completely leaves Arthur in the dust during diplomatic meetings. Unbeta’d as always, we die like Arthur.

Extra note, this turned out much longer than I expected it to. This might be my longest fic yet. I didn’t mean for it to be like this but I spent too much time on it to just leave it alone. And much to my surprise, it’s a linear storyline as well. I hope you all enjoy it and feel free to give me some feedback. Do you prefer the linear storylines or short snippets of scenes? Also, kind of sorry for the slight angst. My bad. It got worse towards the end, I was getting really tired and wasn’t completely sure how to end it. It’s not on the highest note is all I’ll say.

Pairings: Merlin x Arthur, slight Gwen x Morgana

Summary: Five times Arthur couldn’t get anything done without Merlin on his lap and one time where Merlin couldn’t get anything done without Arthur on his lap.

Word count: 10,485

Warnings: Lap sitting, fluff, physical touch, sexual content, grinding, angst, wounds, violence, character death, more warnings to be added, more tags to be added, proceed with caution, breeding kink, impregnation kink, mentions of dub/con, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, eugenics, blood, gore, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, whump, injuries, begging, character death, mentions of public executions, long fic, foul language, asphyxiation, strangulation, choking,

Arthur was good at many things, but being on time was not one of them. Especially, when at the end of the hall he had to attend a council meeting with some of the most stuck up people he had ever met, and that was saying something considering he had to spend the last winter with his extended family. His advisers had been up his ass all week about the new rising kingdom beyond the continent. A kingdom so far away, he had just heard of it several months prior. It was like the kingdom had appeared overnight, suddenly a new ink blotch taking over the lower side of the map.

Personally, he didn’t believe it was real in the first place, having a squadron of knights and hired mercenaries sail over to investigate this so-called Kingdom of Le Lubrique. Much to his disbelief, they didn’t come back empty handed and instead returned with a message. A greeting, as his advisers and Merlin had called it.

To Arthur, it was merely stiff aristocrats getting together in too large a room to talk about dull nonsense. Something he had enough of in his own kingdom. Every other month he was already forced to put on a brave face and converse with the other ruling kings and queens of the continent; he didn’t need another to add on to the mix. He already loathed the balls he was required to host.

“You’re late,” Merlin hissed at him as he entered through a side door so as to not alert the others of his presence.

“That’s kind of the point of me coming here long after the time I was supposed to, Merlin,” Arthur rolled his eyes, sneaking behind the other advisers present to his seat. Merlin begrudgingly followed right on his tail.

“This is serious Arthur, you should have been here ten minutes ago!” Merlin nagged a tad too loudly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the great king of Camelot himself. I’m delighted to see you have graced us with the honor of your belated attendance,” said an adviser from the guest kingdom with a tone that made Arthur want to stab him, wars be damned.

“I hope you could excuse my tardiness just this once,” Arthur began, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. He looked over to Merlin for help, but the warlock looked clueless as usual. “It...was just that I was caught up with...making sure my...uh...husband’s family were making themselves at home. The in-laws are visiting, you see. You know how hard it can be to keep them happy.”

Merlin looked like he wanted to hang Arthur with his own entrails at the king’s quick thinking. Camelot’s advisers seemed to be considering throwing themselves from the window. And the guest advisers seemed content with Arthur’s answer; though not pleased.

“Oh, believe me,” one of them began, a tall woman with high cheekbones and piercing brown eyes, “I know exactly how tiring in-laws can be.” She let out a high pitched laugh like the sound of dying blue jays; the sound made Arthur want to join his advisers as they inched towards the open windows.

“Well, yes, hahaha, they can be quite a hassle. Especially people that are related to my husband here,” Arthur clapped his hands, smiling at Merlin as he took his seat at the head of the table, “Shall we properly begin then?”

Arthur truly and wholeheartedly regretted agreeing to the whole thing. It was hour after hour of mindless words with little to no meaning. They just went on and on about things that meant little to nothing. He tried to tune out their voices but the tall woman’s laugh was like the crack of a whip, bringing him back to reality each time someone made a vaguely funny comment.

“Are you alright, Arthur?” Merlin said in a hushed tone next to his side. Concern had brought his dark eyebrows together. Arthur was tempted to take his fingers and smooth out Merlin’s worry, but perhaps that was too intimate an act for a meeting. Then again, when did Arthur care about what other people thought of him and his husband.

“I’m fine, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, “Just so bored with all of this.”

“How could you be bored? Have you been listening to half of what they’ve been saying? For a kingdom so small they have so much potential. Their farmlands double ours, as well as their ores, and their medicine is even on par to Gaius’s.” Merlin continued on with such a light in his eyes that Arthur was distracted like a moth to a glowing flame.

“Arthur, have you been listening to what I’ve been saying?”

The king shook his head softly, slightly ashamed for not paying attention to his husband. “I’m sorry. I’m just so distracted. I need something to ground me if I’m going to survive another dreadful hour of this,” he groaned, thinking over if the fall from the window would kill him or lethally wound him. Either way, he’d be away from this horror with Merlin at his bedside playing nurse. At the private thought, an idea crossed his mind that had him delighted.

“You know what would help me?” Arthur began, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“What?” Merlin gave him a suspicious look, having seen the grin on the king many times before.

“It’ll really help if you were on my lap.” Merlin gave him an incredulous glare, ready to smack him across the back of the head for such a suggestion during such a crucial conference. “Please, Merlin? You really do help me focus.”

The warlock seemed to be thinking over Arthur’s request, a frown twisting his face. He looked like he was going to say no, but the pleading look on Arthur’s face made him change his mind. “Just this once. I don’t want to make a habit of this, Arthur,” Merlin warned in a hurried voice.

“Just this once,” Arthur lied through his teeth.

The second king of Camelot sat himself on the first, his side pressed against Arthur’s chest. Arthur wound his arm around Merlin and held him tightly. The action seemed to have garnered the attention of the visitors who looked at the pair strangely. And for some odd reason, the visiting ladies of the guest kingdom seemed to be glaring intently at Merlin.

“We are ever so sorry to be boring you, your majesty, but there is still much to discuss,” a visiting high lord coughed, glaring at the pair. “I apologize that our talk of declining population, racial biases against commoners and sorcerers, and ever so low birth rates have made you tired, but considering it may be the undoing of Le Lubrique, I deem it vital,” he practically snarled.

Arthur’s grip on Merlin tightened, his other hand palming Merlin’s thighs. The warlock couldn’t hide the grin that was stretched across his beautiful face at the touch. The king absolutely loved that grin. Arthur glared right back at those who dared question his behavior, for him showing his love for his king. He sounded in a stern voice that left no room for argument, “No apologies needed. Please, continue.”

“Don’t let us disturb you,” Merlin added with a more snarky tone, commanding the same amount of respect. “You have our full attention.”

-----

“Must I attend? You’ll be there, is that not enough?” Arthur whined as Merlin buttoned up his shirt.

“We are hosting a party in the Kingdom of Le Lubrique’s honor. Their queen has traveled all the way here to properly meet us,” Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur’s cheek for the effort. “Must I continue?”

“Only if you wish, my dear,” Arthur pointed to his other cheek, waiting for the same treatment as the other.

Merlin rolled his eyes, pressing another kiss to Arthur. “I’m serious, Arthur, this could mean an all out war or the strongest of ally ship. I mean, have you read the reports of what their kingdom is like? It sounds, and excuse for my word choice but there really is no other way to describe it; magical. I would love to visit the country myself. If we make a good impression they might invite us for a stay,” he continued, tying a red handkerchief with Camelot’s crest around his own neck.

“And that’s why the second king of Camelot would be in attendance.”

Merlin left Arthur in their room after that, knowing that Arthur would follow him. “Are you really going to make me sit there and listen to them go on and on about their plan to repopulate their country, or over tax their people for the food that’s in abundance? Come on, Merlin, we could have our council handle it.” Arthur stepped in front of Merlin to block his way. “Why don’t we head back to our room and make this a more entertaining night?” he wiggled his eyebrows to make sure Merlin got his point.

Merlin heard him loud and clear and rightfully ignored Arthur’s attempt to get into his pants. He sidestepped the man to continue on his path, turning a corner to the ballroom. “Do you hear yourself? What kind of impression would that give Le Lubrique if you just suddenly disappeared?!” Arthur turned to run back to their room just to prove Merlin’s point, but the warlock quickly magicked him back to his side. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

And that was how Arthur ended up sitting on his throne, bored out of his mind and unwilling to be civil or sociable when he could have spent the entire evening snuggled inside Merlin. He could have been in bed by now, having Merlin moaning his name underneath him, but instead Arthur watched as the guest and court mingled and danced. The instrumentalists bobbed their heads in tune to their upbeat song.

Despite refusing to speak to anyone besides Morgana, and Merlin, and occasionally Gwen when she could spare a moment from dancing; he had learned quite a bit about their guests. The fact that although they had a vast amount of farmlands, they had little people to work in them. Which came as a shock to Arthur because he had learned earlier on that Le Lubrique consisted of mostly sorcerers.

Le Lubrique’s queen was the tall woman with a voice that made Arthur’s ears bleed. Her lady in waiting seemed to be a distant relative from their shared trait of high cheekbones, drowning brown eyes, and dark hair. The two were glued at the hip, her lady in waiting obsessively trailing behind her like a newborn duckling wherever they went. They were both strong magic users if Merlin’s gushing was anything to go by. And also very beautiful with fancy perfume that complimented each other so nicely that they smelt like heaven, from Merlin’s words of course, not his. If Arthur didn’t know any better, he would think Merlin fancied them; the queen and her lady in waiting.

Even when the queen was dancing with a number of council members, the servant would be right next to her. It was quite amusing to watch them struggle to sway in time with the music. Arthur had already made bets with Gwen on the number of times party guests would refuse dances with the pair because they refused to separate. So far Arthur was winning.

That was until the queen smugly asked Merlin for a dance. Her lady in waiting immediately stepped away like someone had called for her assistance, leaving the queen alone with Merlin. Much to Arthur’s disappointment, Merlin happily accepted the dance. He took the queen’s hand and off they went, twirling around as if they were the only ones in the room. His hands on her shoulder and waist, her hands virtually tearing his clothes from his chest.

The way the queen of Le Lubrique looked at Merlin made a sick feeling build up from the pit of Arthur’s stomach. She was undressing him with her eyes, the brown in her gaze turning an almost pitch black from lust. The woman said something that made Merlin taken aback, something about dragons and druids, but it was hard to hear from the chatter of the room. For all Arthur knew, it could have very well been a spell.

Merlin recovered quickly with a grin and laugh that had Arthur’s heart skipping a beat. Then the two of them had the audacity to continue dancing as if nothing had happened, the queen still shamelessly pulling at Merlin’s fine clothes that only Arthur was allowed to rip away.

Arthur didn’t know why Merlin didn’t stop the queen when she pulled his handkerchief from his neck. The king was almost killed for even playing with Merlin’s handkerchief and now this woman was doing the same without losing an arm and a leg? Completely unfair. That was proof in itself, she had casted a spell on Merlin.

“Merlin,” Arthur called out to his husband sternly only to be ignored once more. “Merlin,” Arthur stepped away from his throne, making his way towards his husband and the queen.

“I think you should go to bed before things get ugly,” Morgana gently warned Gwen, gesturing towards Arthur’s outburst. “It could either go well or we’ll die of secondhand embarrassment.”

“Thank you for your concern, my love,” Gwen replied with a smirk, “But I want to see how this unfolds.”

Morgana laughed at that, glancing between Arthur and Merlin. “Suit yourself.”

The two high ladies watched as Arthur pulled Merlin away from the queen of Le Lubrique, dragging him away from the woman as she stared on in horror. To Gwen's and Morgana’s surprise, the queen tried to pull Merlin back into her arms. Merlin seemed to be in a daze throughout the whole skirmish. His eyes glazed over, even from afar.

“Should we step in?” Gwen asked with concern, ready to intervene.

“Arthur can handle it, probably.”

The queen called her lady in waiting to help her. Three heads tugged at poor Merlin like he was flax rope at a kingdom fair. The lady in waiting tried to block Arthur from getting a good grip on Merlin while the queen tried to take more of Merlin’s clothes off. A crowd was forming and Morgana distinctively noticed coins being passed around in bets.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“Oh, It's just getting good,” Morgana grinned like a Cheshire cat. “How much are you willing to bet, my beloved?”

Finally, as the crowd began cheering, Arthur twisted out of the lady in waiting’s grip and grabbed hold of Merlin’s waist. The king lifted the warlock up in a bridal carry and turned on his heel for his throne, the crowd parting in heckles and laughs. Arthur blatantly ignored them, sitting down on his throne with Merlin in his lap. Unfortunately, he was unable to retrieve Merlin’s handkerchief, a matter he will surely not hear the end of for quite some time. But between a measly piece of fabric and Merlin’s life, Arthur would choose Merlin time and time again, his own life be damned.

Taking a moment to throw a sneer at Gwen and Morgana who were snickering, Arthur tried to shake Merlin out of the haze. “Are you alright, Merlin?” He stroked Merlin’s arms gently, trying to bring him back to the present. His blue gray eyes were a stormy glaze, seemingly out of it. It made an ugly feeling swirl around in Arthur’s head, the fact that some queen had touched his Merlin in such a way made Arthur sick.

Merlin shuddered in Arthur’s hold, looking down at himself and then at the ballroom floor where others had returned to dancing. Confusion crossed his face, “Of course, I’m alright,” he furrowed his eyebrows, “How did I get here?” Merlin rubbed at his temple, trying to soothe the ache that had formed there.

“Arthur carried you like the jealous brute he is,” Morgana explained, passing Gwen a handful of coins.

“Jealous brute?” Merlin questioned, looking at the trio for a real explanation.

Arthur was about to defend himself when a member of Le Lubrique’s court approached them. “Haha, I couldn’t help but notice the spectacle that you put on there, sire,” the man addressed Merlin.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow.”

The man laughed again, mirth in his eyes. “I guess you wouldn’t,” he said vaguely, “The queen does have a way with words.”

“What do you mean by that?” Arthur butted in, holding Merlin a tad too tight. Merlin squirmed in Arthur’s lap but Arthur seemed to hardly notice.

“Well, you are a warlock, aren’t you, sire?” the man addressed Merlin once more. Merlin nodded despite himself. “A warlock as well as a dragonlord under the queen’s attention is bound to feel the efforts of her magic. And her special attention for that matter, hahaha.”

“Sorry,” Merlin began, more confused than before. “What do you mean by that expactly?”

“Our queen is a lovely dragon tamer. Her family is the last of their kind. Although taming a dragon is much easier when you have someone who can speak to the creatures,” the man laughed as if telling a joke only he knew the punchline to and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Least to say, the rest of the night Arthur didn’t let Merlin out of his sight. He had no idea what a dragon tamer was and Merlin seemed as lost as he was, but he wasn’t taking any chances. No one was going to “tame” his lover. Whatever that meant. Morgana and Gwen could laugh and call him jealous all they want, Arthur only had Merlin’s best interest at heart.

“I doubt having me be a lap warmer is in my best interest.”

-----

It had been weeks and Arthur naively thought they were done interacting with the kingdom of Le Lubrique. He had hoped to be finished with the rising kingdom, to leave them alone as long as they left him be.

He was rarely fortunate these days. Never even.

Apparently, Merlin was not deterred by almost being kidnapped by the queen and her lady in waiting. Merlin even said he enjoyed their company and their attention to his every breathing word. Arthur loved the man, but sometimes he could be quite an idiot.

Merlin, without Arthur’s knowledge, had invited a member of Le Lubrique’s court to stay at the castle. Who else to volunteer to come to Camelot but the queen’s lady in waiting. She was only supposed to be in the kingdom for a couple of weeks, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. That couple of weeks turned into a couple of months and eventually the woman practically lived there. She had made herself at home on day one, much to Arthur’s dismay. He couldn’t really kick her out without making a bad impression towards her kingdom, despite what her queen had already done.

He was a king. Much to his reluctance, he had to act like it. And that meant acting like you liked people that you hated to the core.

“And these are our forests,” Arthur gestured to the thick wall of trees that signified the beginning of the woods. “I typically take neighboring kings hunting here. If you’re interested, we can go if you’d like.”

Sylvy, the lady in waiting, sat on her horse with her head held high. For someone with a position like her’s, she acted like she was queen herself. Arthur had spent the whole day trying to show her around for the utmost time. She was never satisfied with what he showed her, as if she were looking for a break in the walls of the kingdom.

Every morning she demanded to be taken around on a tour and every afternoon she was left with a deep frown on her face. Nothing made her happy it seemed, and Arthur had truly tried to make her feel at the very least, welcomed. It was just so difficult to do so with the knowledge of what she had done to Merlin. Had enchanted him, put him in a daze of some sort.

If Camelot still had the ban on magic, she would’ve been dead the moment she laid a hand on Merlin. On the crown’s orders, she would have been hung or burned, some form of public execution. Her dark hair would go up in flames as the fire burned higher and higher, her head would hang low as the bucket was kicked out underneath her. Arthur was still considering having her prisoned for what she did and simply explained to her queen that there had been a freak accident. If he were a lesser man, a lesser king, he would’ve done so and let it be a warning.

“I despise hunting as a sport, it’s just mindlessly cruel,” she snarled, her lips curling as a show of disdain. She held the reins to her horse like a vice, afraid that she’d be ripped from the saddle and forced to participate in such barbaric practices. At least, that was what Arthur thought was swimming through her mind.

“Yes, yes, but some like the adrenaline rush of a good hunt,” Arthur explained without real passion, merely a form of continuing the dry conversation. Sylvy had woken him up so early that morning he barely had a chance to give Merlin a goodbye kiss. “Some have to do it to survive.”

“There are other ways to live,” Sylvy began, urging her horse to turn by towards the main part of the kingdom, seeing as they were on the outskirts. “Le Lubrique for one replies solely on farmlands. We have no need for meat or the slaughtering of innocent animals. Everyone can live without such a horrible act; people and sorcerers alike. Meat is simply murder.”

Arthur half heartedly nodded, trailing behind her while trying not to fall off his horse. “I can’t argue with you there.” He didn’t want to argue with about anything her to be truthful, he had had enough of that already.

They traveled at a moderate trot in silence before she spoke up again. “Why haven't you invited me to a council meeting? I’ve been here for ages. Surely you have these sorts of things at least once a month.” She tried to act nonchalantly, but Arthur could see right through her. “I mean, there must be all sorts of things to discuss. An heir to the throne for one, seeing as neither you nor king Merlin can bear children.”

“We just haven’t had any council meetings, nothing interesting to report that couldn’t be done with a quill and parchment is all,” Arthur lied with a fake smile she could not see. “And an heir doesn’t need to be of blood. They just need to be taught how to properly command a kingdom like a fair and just ruler. To know what’s best for a kingdom, who to trust and who to leave behind in the woods.”

A look of abhorrence lingered on Sylvy’s face at Arthur’s words, bothered that he would even say such a thing. But Arthur was right, it didn’t matter if his heir was not his child as long as they were just and fair to all that passed them. Arthur could only imagine what Le Lubrique was like if all their subjects thought the same way Sylvy did. It must be all out war for them if a bastard appeared in court one day; though in reality royal bastards were a dime a dozen.

Sylvy went quiet for a moment, calculating her words while mulling over what Arthur had said. “With a kingdom as large as yours, surely there’s action all around? Suitable women all around. Something worthwhile must have happened during my stay,” her voice took on a tone that Arthur didn’t like, a light flush painting her cheeks like some teenage girl with a crush, “What about king Merlin?”

“What about my husband?”

“What has he been up to?” Sylvy asked indifferently, trying to hide her curiosity from Arthur. If only she would try to hide that damn blush. Merlin was physically attractive, Arthur knew this as an undeniable fact, but to be so unabashed while in front of the man’s husband? What was he? The first king of Camelot reduced to chop liver. Unbelievable!

“Well, he’s the second king of Camelot. A king’s job is never done. There is always more work than one man can handle. I should know, I used to be the one doing all the work.”

They reached town just as Sylvy took on an accusatory tone, “Then what are you doing here?”

Arthur resisted the urge to strangle her in front of so many people. His fists clenched around his reins so hard his knuckles turned ivory. “I’m showing you around, just as you had requested,” Arthur gritted through his teeth, trying so very hard not to glare at her.

“And here I was, hoping to attend a meeting with the second king.”

“Really now?” Arthur could feel the mare under him shuffle on her hooves at his fury. “You know what? There might be one later today.” What he had planned was so unbelievably petty and a tad childish, but at this point, he didn’t give a damn. Sylvy was getting on his last nerve. “I’ll have a servant call you when it’s time. For now, why don’t you explore our lovely town by yourself? Walk around without a king hovering over you and all. That way, I could get back to doing my job.”

Sylvy brightened up in spite of Arthur’s words. A smile was forming on her face, her high cheekbones pushed up even farther. Her brown eyes crinkled at the notion that she’ll be able to see Merlin. “I can’t wait,” she said, unsaddling and handing the reins to her horse to Arthur. “I must get ready,” she said to herself loud enough for Arthur to hear.

“Take all the time you need.”

Arthur would regret those words later that night when he sat among his advisers. Sylvy, their honored guest was over half an hour late and the others were beginning to feel on edge. Many of them were not planned for a meeting so soon after the one they had earlier that week. It was an unprompted get together for the lady in waiting’s sake, Arthur had explained to them.

On days like these Arthur was glad he was king and that there’d be grave consequences if he were murdered by one of his advisers. They would be in the right to do so, kill him that is; but he was hoping to live long enough to raise a couple of children with Merlin.

“Why are we doing this, Arthur?” Merlin asked, hiding a yawn with his hand. While Arthur was riding around the kingdom with Le Lubrique’s queen’s lady in waiting, Merlin was left to run the kingdom by himself. The haunted task of commanding and keeping an eye on so many people was taking its toll on the sorcerer. Merlin hadn’t properly slept in days, too busy keeping the kingdom in one piece.

“Sylvy wanted to be present for a council meeting. As a member of Le Lubrique’s court, we have to answer to her call until her stay is up.” Merlin gave him a look that called Arthur out on his poorly constructed plan. “And I may or may not want her to know that you’re taken.”

Merlin rolled his eyes along with most of the present court. They should all be used to Arthur’s antics at this point. What were they expecting? An honest to god meeting to discuss important topics with their visitor from foreign lands? Never. A fake meeting just so Arthur could flaunt the fact that Merlin loved him and not some conceited queen and her lady in waiting? That was more like it.

“Sometimes I can’t believe I asked you to marry me,” Merlin yawned again, giving Arthur a tired look in more ways than one.

“Feels just like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“More like a nightmare.”

“You love me,” Arthur opened up his arms so Merlin could take his place on the king’s lap. Merlin shook his head at the gesture, so incredibly done with Arthur. “Come on, Merlin. You know you like it here.” He teasingly patted his lap. “You can rest until our guest arrives.”

“Fine,” Merlin said begrudgingly after a moment of hesitation, his mind clouded by the want for sleep. “But you better wake me up when she comes.”

“Of course,” Arthur assured, inviting Merlin over once more. This time Merlin made himself home on Arthur’s lap, his head going to rest on Arthur’s chest. He curled in Arthur’s lap like second nature, having done this so many times over the years. Arthur wrapped his arms around the younger man, making sure he was supported and comfortable. Merlin fit perfectly nonetheless. Within moments, a soft snoring sound could be heard from the man on Arthur’s lap, content in where he sat. The second king finally got the rest he deserved. “I wouldn’t wake you for the world,” Arthur whispered, rubbing soothing circles on Merlin’s arm and leg.

Another half an hour passed achingly slowly without the esteemed lady in waiting’s presence. Arthur was about to call off the whole thing and make his way to his bedchamber when at last, the doors to the room opened to reveal Sylvy. She was no longer dressed in her usual servant attire with its cream apron and blue gray dress. Instead she had ransacked the queen’s wardrobe, wearing something befitting a ball.

The dress was elegant and detailed with silk and satin; a deep shade of bourbon that brought out her brown eyes. Her hand was even done up in cascading dark curls that perfectly fell from the knot atop her head. A glittering wine hair piece sat nestled against her hair, matching perfectly with the studs in her ears. She was beautiful even without the time spent enhancing what was already there, but now she stood ready to rule a kingdom.

Sylvy took her seat across from where Merlin would have sat. “Where is king Merlin?” she asked, not noticing that the man in question was currently sleeping on Arthur’s lap.

“I’m sorry for how unprepared we were, but I can relate to your troubles of not having enough hands to run a kingdom. My husband had taken the task of ruling all alone while I tended to your needs.” Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s hair when he stirred in his sleep, continuing on his over sweetened words. “He’s beyond exhausted, but still wanted to take part in our meeting. Please understand that he really did try his best to stay awake.”

The emotions that crossed Sylvy’s face came in a blur; she was unreadable. But one thing was for sure, Arthur had won this small battle. He had shoved Merlin’s unquestionable favor for him in the lady in waiting’s face. Merlin was his and his alone. For good measure Arthur pressed a deep kiss onto Merlin’s lips, the sorcerer smiling in his sleep.

His advisers on the other hand felt cheated. If the death glares shot his way were anything to go by. Though there was one from Sylvy as well. A lot of people wanted him dead at the moment. But he was perfectly happy. They could string him up after the meeting for all he cared, the unintelligible look on Sylvy’s face was worth it. She was utterly speechless.

“I’m ever so sorry we were late to start, but would you like to commence this meeting?” Arthur asked like a gentleman with a cocky grin, making sure to stare right at Le Lubrique’s envoy.

-----

When Sylvy left Arthur rejoiced. She was finally out of his hair. Things could go back to normal and he could go back to spending his free time with Merlin instead of on horseback through a bare orchard. No matter how many times Arthur explained to Sylvy that their crops were not aided by magic like Le Lubrique’s, Sylvy insisted on seeing their “mortal” development.

Everything was put back into its rightful place. He couldn’t wait to put everything about Le Lubrique behind him and move on.

He was back on the throne with Merlin, leading the kingdom just as they were before the whole ordeal with Le Lubrique. Their advisers especially liked the fact that Arthur was back with Merlin; it meant less work for them. The moment that Sylvy left their grounds, Camelot’s advisers piled parchment after novel after demands on his table.

Those selfish bastards.

The so-called requests were so thick that Merlin didn’t even make a sarcastic comment comparing it to Arthur’s ass, and, or his thick skull; the warlock simply went to work. If Arthur himself wasn’t already terrified of the workload, he would have shocked himself to the grave at Merlin’s willingness to submit to their advisers. The two kings of Camelot knew when they met their match.

What felt like weeks passed where Arthur and Merlin did nothing but what their advisers ordered. They were slaves to their own court. The two didn’t leave their room for anything, not food, not training, not even a breath of fresh air. Their knights would occasionally knock on their door to make sure they were both still alive, but once the knights of the round table had been turned down a couple dozen times, they stopped caring. Merlin and Arthur shut off the world. They were practically locked in there, all because of their own doing.

Well, mostly Merlin’s doing. He was the one who invited the envoy over and wanted to make peace with the new kingdom. Arthur had nothing to do with that prolonged visit from the devil, he was only paying the price. His hands ached like it had been shorn off at the wrists, his back screaming for him to rest. He didn’t remember the last time he touched his bed, the neatly tucked in linens calling him to slumber. But he couldn’t, neither of them could until their work was done. Their kingdom depended on it and their kingdom came first, Arthur and Merlin’s comfort second. They both knew what they had signed up for when they decided to wed.

“A-Arthur,” Merlin groaned late one night, the sun mere minutes from the horizon.

Arthur immediately looked up from his book, putting his full attention on Merlin who was on the other side of the room. Neither of them had talked in days besides the few grunts they exchanged while passing over important text. The fact that Merlin was straining his voice now meant something serious was going on.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur coughed, his throat parched and dry as a desert.

“I-I-” Merlin began, rubbing harshly at his hurt eyes, “I think that’s the last one.” The sorcerer signed one more parchment with a flick of his wrist, setting it aside to dry along with the rest.

And the thing was, Merlin was right. There was no more work to go through, to tirelessly read; everything was finally done. “I’m so tired I don’t think I can see straight, b-but that was it!”

“What?”

“We’re finished, you clophole," Merlin smiled, taking Arthur’s breath away.

Arthur leapt out of his seat, pure joy masking the aches and pains as he rushed over to Merlin’s side. The king pulled the sorcerer from his chair, lifting the man into the air, Arthur kissed Merlin like it was their wedding day. Deep and full of all the longing he had for the man, grasping at him as if he could protect Merlin from the world.

He only pulled back for air, inhaling lungfuls before pressing his lips back against Merlin’s. Arthur missed his husband so damn much despite having worked across the room for each other. He hadn’t touched the other man in ages, it was heaven to feel his heartbeat beneath his pained fingers. To kiss down Merlin’s pale neck and mark him until the whole castle knew exactly what they had been up to. To pull at Merlin’s clothes, ripping his tunic right off of his chest, the buttons flying across the room.

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned, gently pushing Arthur back so he could speak. “I liked that shirt.”

Arthur thumbed at Merlin’s trousers, holding his hips tight enough to leave marks that Merlin would feel for days to come. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“But my mother made me that one,” Merlin complained, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck. His strong hand went to cup Arthur’s cheek, making the king look at him. Forcing the king to calm down and evaluate things. “We have to get something to eat too, dear,” Merlin told Arthur in a loving tone. “We’re both too exhausted for this.”

“I’m never too tired for you,” Arthur bit back, leaning into Merlin’s hand. He may have been putting his weight on Merlin’s desk so as to not fall over, but Merlin didn’t need to know that. Arthur could most definitely ravage Merlin while on the brink of death.

Merlin pulled Arthur close to kiss him softly, “If we go to bed now, then we can spend all of next day together,” Merlin tried to bargain, eyes teary from lack of any sort of sleep. “You’re going to hurt yourself, you ass,” he chuckled with a small smile that made his eyes crinkle with mirth.

“I don’t want to,” Arthur whined, “I’ve worked for weeks on end. Now I want my reward for behaving.” Arthur sat back on Merlin’s desk, pulling the man on top of him. The desk groaned under their combined weight, but Arthur hardly cared when he had Merlin on his lap and straddling his thighs. “You’re all I want.” He embraced Merlin, the warlock half naked and moaning as Arthur kissed along his arm. His mouth sucked at Merlin’s skin, teeth leaving markings on pale skin claiming Merlin as his. Arthur worshiped Merlin until his stormy eyes were hazy with unabated lust.

“Just you….”

Arthur slumped forward, out like a dying candle before he even knew it. Merlin had to stifle a laugh, though he doubted anything would wake Arthur then. The king was out cold, snoring like there was no tomorrow. Too bad Merlin had to carry his fat ass over to their bed. The warlock was beginning to rethink their plans for tomorrow. Sometimes he wished Arthur wasn’t such a stubborn ass and listened to him. It would save them both the trouble, Merlin was right most of the time after all.

“Get some rest, you oaf,” Merlin said to the asleep man, tucking him into their bed. Arthur’s blonde hair was like a halo against their stark white pillow, the dark bags underneath his eyes a contrast with the paleness of his skin. His old tunic was a dull red from overuse, the buttons holding onto the fabric for dear life. Merlin stripped Arthur of his boats and stuffy tunic leaving both men in their trousers. A much better way to sleep if anyone asked.

“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s ear, snuggling up against the king. He threw the blankets over himself and laid on Arthur’s chest. The pull of sleep had Merlin out just as quickly, the moment he allowed his breath to even out, there was nothing that would stop him from getting the well earned sleep that he so needed.

“Rest well, Merlin,” Arthur answered in a murmur, pulling Merlin in close. “Sweet dreams, you idiot.”

-----

“Arthur, calm down and try to see reason!” Merlin all but yelled at the king without his crown. The man in question was in his knight gear, armor and chainmail strapped tightly to his body for protection. His sword hung to his side, within reach at all times. Arthur could feel something ominous looming on the horizon, it was Merlin who was still seeing the world with rose colored glasses.

“I tried to see reason. I tried to play nice. And this is what I get in return,” Arthur gestured to the pile of charred wood on the round table. Wood that was once the homes of innocent farmers who played no part in the altercations of royals. People that Arthur was supposed to protect, their livelihoods and homes included. “We were nothing but good to them and this is what happened. Dozens of houses burned to nothing overnight!”

“We have to act now, Merlin.”

“Going in there with your swords raised in offence isn’t going to do anything but start an all out war,” Merlin insisted, urging Arthur to reel himself in, to not lash out at the closest thing. If it were anyone else Merlin would have already smacked them over the head for raising their voice at him. Unfortunately, Merlin was sleeping with the man and didn’t want to be smothered in his sleep. “That’s what Le Lubrique wants; a reason to fight. We can’t give them that.”

“Then what exactly do you expect us to do, Merlin?” Gwen piped in across the table from Merlin. Morgana stood to her side, eyes darting between all the speakers in a frenzy. “They attacked first. It’s only right that we return what they have given us.” Gwen picked up a piece of wood, charcoal rubbing off on her hands as she turned it over. “Arthur is right, we just can’t sit idle.”

Merlin stared at Gwen, hoping that she would be on his side on this. She solemnly shook her head, denying her friend’s offer. Gwen wanted to go on the offence just as much as Arthur, her friends were harmed when Le Lubrique’s soldiers set fire to a section of the kingdom. They burned down acres of farmland, dozens of homes with children and elderly. Luckily, nobody was killed in the process but many were harmed. Gwen wanted vengeance for them. She was a loyal ruler, loyal to her people.

“And we won’t,” Merlin bargained, “We won’t let them gain any more than they already have. No one here knows exactly what they want from us, but we do know that they’re willing to play dirty to get it,” he went on, talking with his hands to release some of the tension. “Let me be a spy and-”

“Absolutely not.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“No,” Arthur said firmly, daring Merlin to argue. “You stay right here with me. I will not have you risking your life for measly information.”

“It's not measly information, Arthur. It could be the difference between thousands dead and a simple treaty. We don’t know what Le Lubrique wants, but if we do, we could try to bargain with them. No blood needs to be shed,” Merlin tried, laying a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, forcing the man to look at him. “The queen wants me. She made that very clear. She won’t hurt me if she thinks I’m on her side.”

Arthur stared at Merlin, watching the sorcerer for any sign of hesitation. When he saw nothing of the sort Arthur sat down in his chair with a huff. Merlin really wanted to do this. Spy work is equal to a as rushing in with their flag flying and swords shining; both could end with Merlin buried six feet under. Even the implication had Arthur feeling like hell.

“How am I supposed to get anything done with you gone?” Arthur questioned genuinely, much to the snickers of the knights and ladies. “I can’t function without you,” this was whispered softly to Merlin, just for Merlin.

The anger and stress dissipated from Merlin’s eyes, his shoulders slacked in resignation. Realization slowly but surely dawned on the sorcerer. Arthur was simply afraid. The first king of Camelot was worried, on the brink of tears from it if anyone looked close enough. Merlin rolled his eyes, even after all these years Arthur was still undoubtedly the same.

Without a care for the other people in the room, Merlin sat down on Arthur’s lap, hands on the other’s chest to stabilize himself. Merlin leaned in close and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips, cradling his jaw like it was something breakable. “Everything will be alright, Arthur. I can protect myself just fine,” Merlin reassured in a careful voice, stroking Arthur’s cheek. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always feel empty without you, Merlin." Arthur pulled Merlin in for another kiss, this one deeper than the last. The two only pulled away for air and even then they went back for more. They couldn’t have enough of the other, constantly needing to feel the other person. A give and take only the other could provide. “What am I supposed to do if you don’t return?” Arthur asked quietly, resting his forehead on Merlin’s. “How am I supposed to live?”

“I promise to you, you’ll never have to find out. You’re stuck with me," Merlin smirked, running his fingers through Arthur’s hair. "Till death do us part, darling.”

Arthur wished he could believe Merlin’s promise. He swore on his mother’s grave that if Merlin fulfilled his promise that he’ll listen to everything Merlin has to say. He’ll never question Merlin again, never talk back to the warlock, shove his stubbornness down and never speak of it again. Arthur would have done anything for Merlin, only the man asked.

Not a month later Arthur received news in the form of a messenger. Le Lubrique had declared war on any who dared try to take the last living dragonlord from them. Merlin was theirs, they stated, the dragonlord belonged to dragon tamers. The two are vital for the continuation of dragons in the old religion. One to gain their trust, the other to keep the creatures in chains where they belong. Any and all who tried to take away their dragonlord would be faced with lethal consequences.

At that Arthur sent the messenger to be put into the stocks. Lethal consequences. Arthur will show them just how deadly he could be. Le Lubrique will pay, a month without Merlin was torture but if they dared to lay a hand on Merlin they would all burn. Gwen was absolutely right, Arthur required vengeance, he wanted them all to feel just what angering Camelot will do, what angering him will do.

And after making such a claim over Merlin’s life, Arthur will show them no mercy. Le Lubrique had declared war on Camelot and Arthur would answer tenfold.

------

It took around two weeks for Arthur to prepare for battle against a kingdom full of sorcerers. Another week was spent traveling with his soldiers over land and sea. Through it all he couldn’t help but be eaten alive by the nagging feeling that he was too late. That he would arrive only to find ash; bones if he was lucky. Day and night he was slowly being killed by the fact that he could very well be walking into his husband’s grave.

“He’s going to be okay,” Morgana reassured him one day as he leaned against the railing of their ship. They were perhaps an hour if not less from shore and Arthur hadn’t slept a wink. He could feel exhaustion mixing with the worry brewing in his mind, ready to overflow at a single inconvenience. His sword was once again at his side, the memory making everything so much worse. “Merlin will be teasing you for worrying so much if he were here.”

“But he isn’t, is he, Morgana?” Arthur said more harshly than he intended. “He could already be dead for all we know.” And it would be all Arthur’s fault, though he kept that notion to himself. By the look on Morgana’s face, she must have been thinking the same thing.

“It's not your fault, Arthur. Merlin chose to go on his own free will.”

“But I was the one who allowed it,” Arthur bit back, standing straight on his feet. “I sent him to his death.”

“You don’t know that,” Morgana crossed her arms. She should be used to Arthur’s self destructive behavior but even this was getting too much for her. “If what that messenger said was true, Merlin’s probably being pampered to death.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to have said because Arthur’s despair did not lighten. It seemed to have gotten worse. “What if he likes it better with Le Lubrique’s court? I’m no warlock, I can’t compete with their magic!”

“Arthur, you’re overthinking this,” Morgana was done with Arthur’s antics. She was ready to gag him and throw him in the ship’s makeshift prison cell until they had properly docked. “Merlin will run right into your arms the moment he sees you. I’m willing to bet on it, just you wait and see. Merlin loves-”

At Morgana’s silence, Arthur looked over to the direction of her gaze. Their ship was making speed but Arthur suddenly wished they had stopped right where they were and sink. The sight took Arthur’s breath away, making his blood go cold. Le Lubrique was burning and it looked like it had been burning for a very long time. There was no shoreside to speak of, just endless flickering flames. Where the castle should have been standing tall like a beacon was nothing but flames, ruble, and ash.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled even though his voice would not carry that far. “Merlin!” he called again, his heart sinking to his stomach. He wanted to drown at sea. He never wanted to reach the shore, to be lost in the ocean and never have to face what he already knew was there. The absence of what he knew should’ve been. “Merlin!” he shouted even though it was futile.

“Arthur, please!” Morgana struggled to pull him back from the side, afraid he’ll jump and swim the rest of the way himself. Or worse. “Just an hour, please. That’s all you have to wait for. You- you don’t know for sure.” Even Morgana was not so sure of her words, the picture in front of them was hard to paint as lies.

“I sent him to his death….” Arthur whimpered, “I killed him. I killed my husband.” The king sank to his knees, kneeling next to Morgana. The woman could barely hide the tears in her eyes at the sight. Everything she wanted to say, every reassurance died on her tongue. Whatever she said could very well be a lie and nothing more.

“We will make them pay, Arthur. We will make them pay for what they’ve done,” Morgana decided instead, pulling Arthur to his feet. “They won’t get away with this,” she stated sternly, much like their father when he had set his mind to something.

Less than an hour passed where the tension was so thick, one could slice through it with an unsharpened sword. All on board prepared for battle, despite the fact that the fires never stopped burning. Regardless of the fact that they might be too late to be of much good. The fighting had already begun long before they docked, a civil war where the same flag was flying on opposite sides.

“Go search for what is left, we’ll handle everything else,” Gwen informed Arthur when they stepped foot on the raging battlefield. She was dressed in chainmail armor just like everyone else, Camelot’s colors making her blend in with the searing fires. Her helmet was covering most of her face, giving her the appearance of a frightening soldier ready to take lives at a moment's notice. If Arthur was in a better mood, he would have been sorry for the folks who would come face to face with Gwen, the quick footed soldier instead of Gwen, the gentle, kind hearted high lady. At the moment he was on the verge of breaking and was ever so glad that Gwen was as cut throat as she was.

“Thank you,” Arthur told her from the bottom of his heart, “We should have listened to you from the start.”

“You followed your husband’s request, I can’t fault you for that.” She pulled Arthur in for a hug before sending him off. “Go find our king.”

Gwen didn’t have to tell Arthur twice, he was off before she finished speaking. The only thing is his mind was finding and holding Merlin. Nothing else mattered. Not the war thriving around him, swords clashing, arrows flying, Camelot’s red against the duality of Le Lubrique’s purples; nothing. The sorcerer was all that was worth living for and Arthur had a guess as to where Merlin would be.

The castle with Le Lubrique’s flag flapping against the blistering wind was as good as any place to start. Arthur climbed the hill that the palace stood on with lead in his stomach. It felt like every step he took he was merely walking into a trap. The castle should not still be in one piece, the battles around the structure should have made it no more than debris. However, it still stood on weak support.

Going against the nagging voice in the back of his head Arthur called out for his husband, “Merlin!” He walked closer to what would have been the courtyard. Around the perimeter were burning shrubbery that must have been a sight to behold at one point in time. Now there were nothing more than flares and the source of black smoke. The cobblestone center was stained with a drying red that Arthur did not want to face the source of. “Merlin!” Arthur sounded out in the courtyard.

“Arthur,” a hoarse voice groaned weakly. Arthur ran in the direction it came from, his sense of self preservation be damned. Merlin’s life could be on the line.

“Merlin, stay with me. Keep talking!”

“I-I’m over here,” Merlin hissed out helpfully, not informing Arthur where, “here” exactly was. Why did Arthur have to marry such a buffoon? Sure, no one could compare to Merlin, but at the very least he could have courted a smarter man.

“I’m coming, just stay where you are,” Arthur said hastily, rushing through the crumbling courtyard. “Don’t you dare die on me, I’ll kill you myself if you do!” he threatened, searching every nook and cranny for the warlock.

“That’s my line, you ass,” Merlin moaned in complaint, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Come up with your own catchphrases.”

Sometimes Arthur couldn’t believe his choice in a partner. Merlin was really making banter with him while possibly on the brink of death. He was definitely going to kill Merlin for this. “Make me, you bastard,” Arthur cursed, rounding a sharp corner that fell apart as he passed it. His breath was taken away for the second time that day when he saw Merlin on the ground.

They were in what must have been a parlor, the stained glass windows shattered on the ground as a number of the fine furniture burned to cinder. Arthur could imagine the room as something beautiful if he were to be invited over for tea. Now he just saw it as a smoking mess, something that he was glad was going up in flames. Though, without him or Merlin in it would be nice.

“There you are!” Arthur exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling on the floor next to Merlin’s frame. The sorcerer was half naked with sharp nail marks littered across his pale skin. Merlin’s neck was a raring red as if a hand had been wrapped around his throat which didn’t let up until he passed out from the lack of air. His form was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and tears, his rib cage stuck out in unpleasant angles. It looked like he hadn’t been fed in days. The sight made Arthur furious, but Le Lubrique’s court could wait. Arthur had to get Merlin to safety first.

“Took you long enough, you oaf,” Merlin hissed through his teeth, his lips chapped from dehydration. The corner of his mouth was bleeding as if he had been back handed across the face. Arthur reached out a hand to touch it, to make sure Merlin was real and not just some illusion made by a sick sorcerer. “Stop that, it already hurts to talk,” Merlin coughed, his eyes hazy.

“What happened?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask, shrugging off his cape to throw over Merlin’s bare chest. It didn’t offer much coverage but it was protection against the flying embers. As a bonus it covered the markings that made Arthur’s skin crawl.

“I arrived under the guise of an envoy, just as we had planned. Everything seemed to be going fine, but they found out I was a spy early on. It was like they could read my mind, and I don’t doubt that they have the knowledge just for the spell,” Merlin explained, pulling Arthur’s cape close, the soft fabric offering a sense of shelter. “But they didn’t seem to care that I was there under ulterior motives. They were only glad to have me, mind and body,” Merlin shivered at the thought. “Le Lubrique’s queen wanted me to father her children.”

Merlin paused to let the thought sink in. He watched Arthur for his reaction. Arthur’s face twisted in a disgusted sneer, baring his teeth at the implication. The king clenched his fists until his nails dug deep enough into his palm to drag blood. Arthur wanted to feel the pain, something to ground him farther so he didn’t march off to kill someone who might already be dead.

“Le Lubrique wanted dragons as slaves, no king would be dumb enough to go to war with a kingdom with dragons on their side; no matter its size,” Merlin went on, his eyes glowing yellow at the notion. “They needed me as a stud.”

Arthur was repulsed at the notion that Le Lubrique would even conceive of such a thing. He must have looked ready to vomit because Merlin quickly added, “Le Lubrique’s queen even tried to make herself appealing to me when I denied her advances.” Arthur could only imagine what the woman did. Sylvy’s antics immediately came to mind. “She magicked her hair blonde and made her eyes your shade of blue.”

Arthur couldn’t help but darkly chuckle at that. Of all the ways to make Merlin fall for someone, blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t it. “Did she really think looking like me would get you to bed her?”

“No,” Merlin began again with a pained yelp that he tried to hide. “What she said was what made me comply.”

“What did she say?” Arthur growled, his earlier fury seeping back into his bloodstream. “What did that harlot say?”

“She threatened your life, Arthur. Your honor, your dignity, and reign as king. Everything,” Merlin got teary eyed at the memory. “The way she took her pleasure from me was painful, but it was nothing compared to the thought of what she said she would have done to you.”

Arthur was shaking with rage, his whole body trembled with the urge to tear Le Lubrique’s queen apart, limb by limb by his own bare hands. His hand hovered over his sword subconsciously. He wanted to kill her, needed to destroy her for what she’s done. For the fear she incited into Merlin. Arthur was bloodthirsty; he hoped that Gwen was just as demanding of blood.

“I wanted to kill her.” Merlin’s quivering voice brought Arthur back to the present. “Let me kill her, Arthur,” Merlin begged his husband, his lip beginning to bleed.

“Of course,” Arthur wiped Merlin’s tears away with his thumb, his hand caressing Merlin’s cheek gently. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you in a heartbeat.”

“Now, Arthur. I want to kill her now.” Merlin tried to sit up but the cry of pain had him falling right back to where he was. “She deserves to suffer.” His eyes lit up in a gold light, trying to magic his way upright but failed and fell down once more. The warlock’s body was in a worse state than he appeared, he shook in a cold sweat like an infection induced fever.

When Merlin began coughing fistfuls of blood at the strain Arthur was forced to act quickly. The king straddled Merlin’s legs, sitting down on his lap to keep Merlin on the ground. “Shhh, I’m here, Merlin. I’m safe, I’m alive,” Arthur barricaded Merlin with his arms. “I’ll bring you her head, I swear.”

“Let me do it, Arthur. I can kill her myself,” Merlin barked, another fit of coughs had him squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’ll bring her to you, alive. You can do anything you want with her court,” Arthur tried a different approach, tears forming in his eyes at the sight of Merlin in this state. “You can make her pay for what she’s done, make her feel the same pain. But please, Merlin,” Arthur begged, stroking Merlin’s face as tears fell on the man’s face. “Stay with me. Keep talking.”

Merlin opened his eyes at Arthur’s request, pain painting them a disorientating blue. “It hurts, Arthur. She did so, so many horrible things,” Merlin admitted in the burning parlor room. He reached out angry scarred arms to wrap around Arthur, pulling the king flush against his chest. “Everything aches, it feels like I’m being burned alive.” Merlin had Arthur in a death grip, there was barely enough room for either of them to breathe. It felt like home.

“They will pay, this I swear,” Arthur made an oath, kissing Merlin to make it true. “By the end of this day their bodies will be put on display for all to see.” He kissed down Merlin’s neck, burying Le Lubrique’s queen’s markings with his own. “Do you want her kingdom as well, Merlin? Say the word and it's yours.”

“I want you. I want her gone. I want her kingdom. I want it all,” Merlin’s mind was spinning with searing fever, screaming pain, and the constant pleasure of Arthur licking at his throat. He squeezed Arthur’s neck with his shaking arms. “Give me everything.”

In a burning parlor of a dying country with a queen and court that abandoned it, the first king of Camelot made a vow to the second king; an apology and a promise. Everything the licking fire was eating, everything destroyed by its own queen; the country, and the sea that surrounded it. The never ending farmlands, the people that survived, and the bones that would be buried by ash of its own making. The entire kingdom; dead, dying, or thriving. All of it would be Merlin’s.

All of it is Merlin’s.

“My king shall have everything.”

57 notes · View notes

beheadingofmakai · 6 years

Text

Let’s Be Their Coincidence

Though their hands were clasped tightly, their eyes had not met in minutes now. The nerves of youth were very apparent in the faces of both the boy and the girl, who walked side by side, hand on hand, and step by step, but who couldn’t bear looking at each other.

“...T-this is the park, right?” the girl inquired, smashing the silence with all of her courage at long last. “The park that is... Supposed to bring couples together. Haha, it’s a really weird rumor, isn’t it?”

“It’s worth a try, at least” the boy replied, doing his best to not stutter. “I’ve heard of people that have come here and... Well, they end up much better, but they refuse to speak of what happened, and they warn you to not come here! That’s just way too suspicious, they just wanna hoard whatever it is for themselves!”

“Hah, that wouldn’t be too far fetched, but they could also just be lying, like, to be hip and stuff, you know?”

“See, that’s what bothers me. Yoshida isn’t one to lie! He’s been my bro since we’ve been little, we’ve never kept a secret from each other, and yet, he was practically begging me not to come! It’s wrecking my nerves! Just what is it about this shitty park...?”

Keisuke and Asuka are not dating, but lord almighty, do they wish they did. Keisuke and Asuka used to be classmates in middle school, and now once again are classmates in high school. They have a good vibe, but their insecurities have led them to be unable to say the words, to seal the deal, to stir the stew, to clench the cheeks, and so, they spend agonizing days full of awkward implications, sweet little nothings, and painful blushing. It could continue this way until something overly dramatic happens, or until they spit it out, but, haha, yeah, good luck doing that when you’re wuss, and guess what Keisuke and Asuka are? Wusses. Grade A, low fat, bona fide wusses from the finest wuss farms.

And for wusses, there’s always one salvation, one resource that never abandons them: Rumors. Whether it be magazines, “psychological tests” found in said magazines, Zodiac compatibility, blood types, elemental affinity, anything, wusses will take it as gospel and find the crutch they need to move on. Where that takes them, who knows, but it sure as hell makes them move at least. Proof: The Lovermaker Park.

“So, how did this Lovemaker Park rumor go, Keisuke?” asked Asuka, trying to stir any conversation to distract herself from the fact that she was holding sweaty palms with him.

“It’s Lovermaker Park, and it goes that if you get off Naka-Meguro station and walk down towards Saigoyama Park, but keep going from there without entering the park, you’ll find a desolate memorial park that no one remembers about. The benches will be sufficiently maintained, but still in disrepair, the trees will be alive, but with browned leaves and ashen bark regardless of the time of the year, and you’ll be alone with your lo... Lo... Companion. If you walk from the entrance to the end together, hand in hand, you’ll grow closer.” Keisuke replied, capitalizing on the opportunity to talk as much as possible, as the silence had been torturous not only to her.

“...It’s kinda unsettling how specific the rumor is, but it’s even more unsettling how... Well, it’s kinda true. It’s the start of spring and these trees look battered! Withered leaves, dried roots... D-do you think we should go back now?”

“Wait, Asuka! Don’t say that! Remember what they said! If you turn back, or even think about turning back, an Oni will appear and eat you!”

“Oh, a Oni, you say? Ya believe in those, little boy?”

“O-Of course I don’t!” retorted Keisuke, facing Asuka for the first time since they entered the park. “But you never can be... Did... Did your voice get deeper, and... What are you looking at...?”

The poor girl to his left was not looking at him. With a horrified expression and teary eyes, she stared at least two heads about the boy, her neck at the limit of how much above her she could look at. “K-K-Kei-Keisuke, be-behind, behind, Keisu--”

As he turned around, Keisuke found himself face to face with a belt decorated with various bells and bones. As he slowly looked up, he realized he was next to something truly and well massive, with white eyes that looked down at him, a razor sharp cheshire grin barely holding back its laughter. “What’s wrong, runt?”, it spoke, “I thought ya didn’t believe in Oni? Whatcha peein’ yer pants for, then, pussy?”

Both teenagers screamed in horror as they realized they were face to face with an ogre three times their size. Its long limbs looked unnatural, and though it was slender like a panther, it was very easy to see the toned muscles that comprised its body. Not that they looked at those for too long, as the real “charm point”, let’s call it, was the toothy smile comprised of a mouthful of sawed, jagged, misplaced teeth and large, featureless, mocking eyes. The bony hands with long fingers came down upon the two adolescents, missing them by a hair as they panicked and fumbled backwards.

“A-A real Oni!? Wha... Run! Run for it, Asuka!” cried the boy, trying to desperately get on his feet and stumbling forward, meeting the cobblestone face first and flailing wildly to get away as fast as he could, but his headless chicken tantrum came to an end the moment a shrill scream made him realize that his escape was a lonesome one. Turning around, the horrible sight of his crush being lifted effortlessly by the torso with only one hand broke his stupor, and instead genuine, conscious, palpable horror froze him in place.

“Keisuke! Go! Get away!” she pleaded and pleaded as the chesire maw approached her head with glee and laughter. “What are you doing!? Run!”. Keisuke dashed not towards the exit, but at a nearby bench with an oddly colored plank. “N-not that way, Keisuke, the exit is over--”

“T-the rumor said that if the Oni appeared, you had to find the oddly colored bench, and behind it...!” -- Keisuke leaped at the bench and landed on it kneefirst in his panic, his adrenaline masking the pain, and reached behind it to produce a large, gold branch with a glowing, silver, stake-like tip -- “...You’ll find a branch that can kill it!”

“What!? That’s the Branch of Amenunohoko! How could a brat like you brandish that!?” exclaimed the Oni, impetuous and brutish footsteps smashing the cobblestone beneath it as it shortened the distance between itself and the boy with blinding haste. “Pretty good for a pussy! Die!”

With a scream more akin to a warcry than a cowardly whine, Keisuke lunged at the towering beast, the branch easily piercing its hand and impaling the shoulder, purple blood gushing out of the wound, the pain forcing the beast to let Asuka go to cover it as it cried in pain. “Keisuke! T-the last part of the rumor! The Oni can only be killed if two hearts that truly love each other impale it with the branch...! Hurry, let’s do this!”

“Ou! Hyaaaaa!”

The two, their hearts as one, jumped at the screaming beast, still recoiling from the holy branch embedded in its shoulder, and their two pairs of hands drove the stake fully into the beast, it’s deafening scream drowning out every other sound in the park, sacred azure flames ensnaring the Oni in their purifying embrace.

“You... You bast... Aaaa...” crackled its last the Oni, collapsing a smoldering ruin.

The boy immediately embraced Asuka. “Are you alright!? I thought-- I thought it was gonna kill you! Are you hurt at all?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine! Thank everything, you are not hurt either...! I love you, Keisuke! Let’s... Please go out with me! This all made me realize that I can’t just hesitate anymore! And the way you threw yourself at that beast... I knew you were the one for me!”

“Asuka...! D-don’t say it so loud, I... I love you, too... Haha, hahaha! Let’s get out of here, and... I’ll be in your care!”

The smiling pair, nay, couple, held hands firmly and with no second thoughts, they left the park, effectively a closer couple than before, having survived the vicious assault of an Oni thanks to the power of their love!

The end.

Of their story, at least.

The burnt out husk of the Oni was left in the park, the glowing branch sticking out of it as unending blue flames gently swayed and danced with the night’s gale. A single pair of footsteps, light and subtle, became louder and louder as a blonde woman with a plastic bag hanging from her left hand and a long sniper rifle hanging from her right approached. Once she was a couple of meters away from the burnt corpse, she rummaged in the bag and produced a can of beer.

“Great work today, here you go.” the woman whimsically said to the corpse as she threw the can at it. As the can was about hit the corpse, its hand suddenly sprung to life, catching the can. In a flash, the fire was gone, and where there was once a smoldering carcass now lie a tall woman with long, dark hair in a casual, almost relaxed position. Wordlessly, she opened the can and downed it in a matter of seconds, motioning to the blonde to throw her another one. “Sheesh, you were parched, weren’t you?” the blonde chuckled, throwing two more from the bag.

“Ya know it! After a whole freakin’ day of doing this, I deserve it! Ya got the good stuff, too, ya lovely little bugger, thanks! Screamin’ and laughin’ that loud so much all day to mask yer rifle bangs has me throat parched like the sole of a crusader!” enthusiastically replied the cheerful dame on cobblestone, in stark contrast to the more subdued, quiet tone of the blonde woman. “I tell you what, I wasn’t fully in love with yer plan when ya laid it on me three weeks ago, I thought this was gonna go bust and then we’d hafta skedaddle for this or that reason... Or that ye were gonna try ‘n cap me while I was doing this shit, yeah? I’m glad I was wrong as usual!”

“You have a bounty on your head or something? Not that I care if you do, I am not into mercenary wet work, just doing my job here, so that’s what I’ll do. You’re free to be as paranoid as you wish.” calmly replied the riflewoman, removing her wool beanie hat and undoing her hair, letting her pale yellow mane flow with the night’s gale as she sipped soda from a can as if it was wine.

“Iunno if I have a bounty or not, friend, and though I’d bet my horn and a half I do, it ain’t about that, bwahaha, it’s about, uh, don’t take it the wrong way, aight?” replied the dark haired girl, who was dressed in a mish-mash of differently colored fabrics, her hair messily tied in a spiky ponytail as she casually removed the branch from her shoulder and tossed it aside. “But, an Angel holding a freakin’ rifle approaches you in this country, which is well out of your peeps’ jurisdiction, may I add, well, ya can’t blame me if I feel a little itchy behind the knuckles, yeah? Angels ain’t exactly the best fellas -- uh, no offense -- so an Angel with a rifle is, like, double bad news. Double false alarm in your case, though, thankfully!”

A hollow, practiced, and barely cordial chuckle came from the Angel. “Eh, you aren’t wrong. Angels are pricks. I’m not with them anymore, either way, and as far as I know, freelancers are ok here, right? I am a solo Cupid, not affiliated with anyone and not in contact with the Choir at all. If anything, I find it weird that an Oni so readily accepted to work with an Angel with as much... Pulchritude, let’s call it, as you did.”

“Eh, I ain’t smart, I like risks. I was half hopin’ for ya to shoot me in the noggin’, and then we’d have a nice ol’ rumble, ‘cause see, I’m not gonna lie, I ain’t never traded hands with an Angel, and a buncha little birdies have told me ain’t nothin’ funner than brawlin’ with one of y’all, but you turned out to be a real Cupid, and a weird one at that. First I hear of a solo Cupid. You just... Do this as a hobby? It’s our last day together, so I figured I might as well ask, if that’s cool with you.”

Without raising her voice or changing her deadpan expression in the slightest, the holy woman simply looked directly into the Oni’s red eyes. “Love rocks.” she uttered in the flattest, but clearest, of monotones.

“...Hah? What?”

“Love rocks.”

“You... Ya just doin’ this ‘cause you got a metaphorical sweet tooth?” asked the puzzled, bewildered, but definitely bemused Oni, downing another can of beer.

“It’s not metaphorical. It’s very real. Love rocks.” Again, that monotone? An unbreakable bastion. “I like seeing inexperienced couples composed of clumsy people manage to come together. I mix pleasure and business, because my business happens to be pleasure.”

With loud and powerful footsteps, the tall woman approached the angel and sat beside her. “...You... Went solo ‘cause you just love seein’ couples, Astra? Ya mean to tell me that ya took one good look at yerself in the mirror one day, said “fuck it, I’m doin’ me now”, gave the Choir both slips, and just legged it here to Japan? Just to shoot literal love into dumbass teenagers and shit? Then you look at yerself in the mirror again every night after a steamin’ hot shower, blonde hair probably a mess from bein’ inside that beanie all day long, cascadin’ ‘round ya as ya try t’fight it with the mightiest comb, and ya think, “yeah, fuck yeah, this is my life now, I love it”, girl?”

“Yup.”

“...Well slap me on the buttcheeks and tug on me ponytail.” the Oni remarked, laughing heartily. “It’s just one thing after the other with you... Fuckin’ Angels, man, bwahaha.”

“Astra” was a tall, woman with an almost pale, cream tone of blonde coloring in her shoulder blade long hair. Although not as tall as the Oni, she definitely wasn’t short, standing at 187 centimeters. Her attire consisted of exactly what you wouldn’t expect from someone who is supposedly “Cupid”: Tough steel-toed boots, grey jacket and cargo pants, tactical vest, grey wool beanie that usually concealed her hair, and silver sunglasses that masked her green eyes. One couldn’t tell her figure from her clothes, but her way of carrying herself indicated a lot of grace and dignity, with an elegant gait and a repertoire of smooth moves and habits, which would be charming if she wasn’t as intimidating as a woman with a perpetual, concrete deadpan expression and a rugged sniper rifle slung over her right shoulder was. “Don’t call me that, please refer to me with my full name, Nahoko.”

Nahoko, in contrast, was an even taller woman, hitting 217 centimeters of height. Her long, black hair was tied in a wild, messy ponytail, and not once had the Angel seen her without her eccentric war paint adorning her face or her even wilder attire that consisted of mix and mash pieces of fabric, some singed, some torn and ragged, worn in a way that barely counted as an outfit, with her left arm clad in a bizarre, single long glove covered in black feathers of several different birds, judging by their varied shapes, spike-like accessories jutting out from her left leg, and several bells and bones hanging from her sash. Her feet, legs, and right arm were wrapped in sarashi, and due to the exposed, almost exhibitionist nature of her outfit, it was immediately discernible that her sizeable chest also was covered by sarashi, and that her body as a whole was strong, with well defined abdominal muscles and biceps. Atop her forehead, the pride of every Oni, her two long horns, sat like a magnificent crown, above her red eyes, and below these, her toothy, serrated smile. “Yeah, yeah, yer so stiff, Astrael, jeez, we’ve known each other for three whole weeks! We’re practically sisters at this point!”, the Oni teased.

You couldn’t find a more contrasting pair.

“Finish up your drink, we still have time for one more. Last couple, and then our contract is up.” Astra was a very no-nonsense person in general, already cleaning her cylinder and preparing her ammunition and scope.

“Oi oi, no need to hurry, Astra...El” -- Nahoko chuckled like a child -- “When the tripwire tells us to go to work, we go to work. Talk with me a little, yer a sight here, and I happen to live for the spice of variety. Whatcha doin’ in a country so far from where yer kind’s influence is? I mean, even if yer solo, there had to be easier places than the land of the rising sun, yeah?”

With a tired sigh and seeing how it was truly the last night they’d share together in this job, the dutiful Astra decided to humor her at least this once, setting her rifle down and cracking open a can of beer of her own. “...I came here precisely because of that. I guess you could say I like a challenge.”

“Or ya don’t want to be found.” immediately interjected Nahoko, who couldn’t tell if Astra was averting eye contact through those silver shades, but she could bet she was. “...I’m not one to prod me horns ‘round where they don’t belong, but it’s really dang novel to see an Angel 'round these parts, and when we see one, it’s ‘cause they tryin’ to expand J-man’s influence in this ol’ country. I mean, we are even celebratin’ Christmas in here nowadays, how wild is that, bwaha!”

“...Did you accept to work with me to keep tabs on me?”

“Nah” -- the big woman produced an old fashioned pipe and lit it with her fingertip -- “I’m no friends with those old Shinto fucks, either. On the contrary, honestly. Y’know about Oni in general, so you should understand if I told you that I hail from the old school, from that one mount you probably haven’t heard of.”

“Oh? Mount Ooe? You were with Shuten-douji’s gang?” Astra added, keeping an eye on her cellphone in case the tripwire called them to work, much to the surprise of the Oni. “Can’t believe I’m working with such a big shot.” she added with some sarcasm mixed in with the curiosity.

“Hah! Not bloody likely, I was a bit player, the henchest of the women, you may say!” laughed Nahoko, throwing herself back to the cobblestone as if it was a comfortable bed. “Nah, a low ranked brigand who wasn’t fit to serve drinks to even his underlings, that was me! I mean, doesn’t sound too cool, I reckon, but I’m still alive! I wasn’t worth their time when they came a-stormin’. They killed every Oni worth killing, the rest of us cowards scattered. Fuckin’ Onmyouji and Exterminators, bwahaha, they only missed on Ibaraki-douji, ‘cause she was ungodly tough and resilient. There, see? I’m willin’ to show my hand, so show me yours already, ya stiff! I signed up with yer job ‘cause it was convenient for me and because it sounded fun. I get to scare kids and then play a big bad villain, just like the old times! Oni nowadays ain’t fun at all, man... Organized crime just ain’t the same as raidin’ and pillagin’... Ooh, racketin’ and protection money! Look at me! I’m such a pussy that I can’t just go take what I want! Subterfuge! I swear to Auntie Moriko, Oni these days ain’t got balls...”

The sniper couldn’t help but laugh at Nahoko’s bravado and lamentations for the “good ol’ days” of savage ransacking. “Heh... Well, times change, for better or for worse. Truth is, I didn’t really enjoy my job as an Angel anymore. I was stationed on Egypt one time for a big job, and I did that one... Really well, apparently, so I was dispatched to do similar jobs, even though I didn’t like it. I eventually had enough of it and just deserted. I came here at the prompt of an old friend who needed help with this country’s low birth rates, he was hoping I could do something about it, so I took to being a Cupid here.”

“Ooh, a big wig in this here country? Pretty well connected, ain’tcha? He’s payin’ you?” the Oni teased, elbowing Astra playfully, who was pretending really hard that those Oni-strength-fingerjabs didn’t hurt.

“Just essentials costs, really, stuff like lodging and day to day necessities. I didn’t want a full-on paycheck as if I was some sort of operator here, I’m just living my life now, helping clumsy couples with that first push, see?” Astra elaborated, playfully chambering and unchambering a round with a clicking sound.

Nahoko dragged on her pipe and puffed a big cloud of smoke from her mouth. “...You really love ‘love’, don’tcha? I swear, the only times yer eyes fire up are when yer talkin’ about these kids and how they need a little push. For such a crackshot to be this much of a consummated... Shit, whatcha call it... Um... There a word for someone like this? Romantic, maybe?”

“I mean, can you blame me?” interrupted the Angel, finishing her beer and opening the last can. “In a country where birthrates are low and where public displays of affection are frowned upon, where kids are clumsy lovers but wish they could partake in the skinship, the sweet caresses of mutual affection more freely, where the public opinion holds such weight and as such is a barbed leash, where the nail that sticks out gets hammered down, a silver angel is needed, and so she descends, bow and arrow of heart at the ready, prepared to ignite a night of romance with devastating accuracy and overwhelming firepower.” With each word, Astra’s monotone was growing weaker and weaker.

“W-woah.”

“Look at it this way: Imagine you are a girl in love with a boy, and you know that the boy loves you back. But! You are both clumsy, coy, foolish! You wait for him to take action, but he’s waiting for you, and you’re both, admittedly, pansies, so this just goes on and on, with both of you biting your respective pillows and waiting for each other to text first, until you are in the last year of high school, preparing for exams, and then you just say, “It’s fine! We’ll have time in university! Or while working!”, but then the years pass and pass, and none of you makes a single freakin’ move or takes a single freakin’ clue and then you are both old wrinkled raisins rich on protein and regret and you wonder and ponder, why! Why did I let the time pass like this! Social constructs, damn you! My own childish idiocy, curse you! You think convenient accidents and unexpected events that will bring you together just happen?! That you just reach into your jacket’s breast pocket one day and say, “Oh, wow! A contrived coincidence that will help up grow closer! Lucky me!” You think life is that easy, Nahoko!?”

“Holy shit, dude.”

“And that! Is why! I’m here! To prevent all of these sad, depressing, inevitable futures of beds far too large for one person and houses too spacious for a bachelor! So these unskilled sacks of love can fully... Love! I am the convenient accident! I am the unexpected event! I am the best thing to happen to clumsy couples! That is what I want to be!”

As the passionate outburst of the love legionnaire came to a conclusion, the perplexed Nahoko only made this “bweh” sound that is somewhere between a “Wow” and a “Mm!”. “Yeah, I didn’t doubt you for a second, but god damn, you a love maniac for real.”

The usually pale face of the Angel had turned beet red once she realized she had, once again, done it, and now she was definitely averting her eyes behind those shades. “I... Well, ahem, hmhm! Let me rephrase that in a less uncouth manner: I believe that love is complicated enough without all the social constructs and expectations that its participants may have to skirt around, and sometimes it can be hard to spit it out. I aspire to be able to give these couples this first push, or maybe their last push, so they can take the first, difficult step, because after that? They need me no more... To be frank, I don’t care about the low birthrate, either, man and man, woman and woman, I am here for love, not babies... There, I said it, are you happy? Have I made my, as you put it, ‘hand’ clear enough?”

“Plenty, ya little love freak! You are so adorable when you ain’t a block of ice and marksmanship. I knew you had a fire behind those stupid expensive shades, after three weeks of workin’ with ya, I just didn’t think it’d be a supernova!” jeered the loud ogre, pounding the cobblestone to dust with a hand as she laughed merrily. “Wouldn’t kill ya to be honest with yerself more often!” she finally declared, to which the Angel simply crossed her arms and pointed her nose skywards.

“W-why, you-- Make a mockery out of me, won’t you? I knew I shouldn’t have humored you. The nerve...”

“On the contrary, Astrael, thank you. It truly does make me happy to know I worked these three weeks with someone as alive as you. I wasn’t laughin’ ‘cause I was mockin’ ya, I’m just happy when I get to see people truly be about their thing. It’d be a more colorful world if we all were alive like that.”

“...I see.” Apparently, the compliment caught her off guard, as Astra calmed down and began playing Chamber The Round again.

“Anyways, get going.” Nahoko abruptly commanded. “We have our last couple.”

“What? Oh! The tripwire!”

Astra had been so distracted by her own volcanic passion that she didn’t notice the sensor being tripped. Grabbing her rifle and beanie, in one motion, four large white wings protruded from back, her special outfit opening on the shoulder blades to accommodate their exit, and she leaped with earth-shaking strength back to her sniper nest.

“Al~right, let’s make this last job one to remember!”. Dusting herself off, Nahoko grabbed the branch from earlier and imbued it with her illusion magic, giving it the golden and silver appearance from before. As she stowed it behind the odd-colored bench, the large woman couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been a great companion, ‘Branch of Amenunohoko’, pff! Yer such a great actor!”

It was time for the final gig.

“A-Aimi, are you sure about this? This park looks really shady! There’s not a single soul around, and the trees are withered, even though it’s spring! L-let’s just go home, yeah?” pleaded the cowering, shorter girl, whose puffy light brown hair and thick glasses endowed her with a homely, what-are-you-doing-outta-the-library look.

“Michii!” chastised the taller, thinner girl with the longer and straight black hair and the many colorful accessories on her uniform and beautiful, expensive eyeliner, clearly from a different world than Michiko’s. “We said we’d go through this, right? Don’t back out on me now! B-besides, I told you, didn’t I...? I have something... Very important I want to tell you, you know?”. Hearing these words, the cowardly Michiko hit her own face with her palms and gave Aimi a resolute look.

“I’m sorry! It was a m-moment! You are my dearest friend in the world! A-anything you want to do, even if it’s scary and I want to die and explode and swallow needles instead of doing it, if it’s THIS important to you, then I’m down for it! Let me at it!” she roared with a voice that cracked midways through the declaration.

“Michiko... Heh, yeah, see! You can do it if you try! Now gimme that hand.” But as she gripped Michiko’s hand tightly and looked in the other direction, naught but sorrow brewed on her expression as the false confidence melted. “I... I hope you’ll be as enthusiastic after I tell you... That I... That I’m...” she murmured to herself, her heart tightening, her eyes watering.

The park was a depressing shade of brown, white, and grey, even though it was spring. The trees that should be blossoming and offering bountiful recompense for the passage of time for eyes to admire and hearts to sing instead stood almost like made of stone, naked branches offering misery instead of beautiful sights, and the less said about the cracked, dry bark, the better. The plain, white cobblestone, coupled with the dry soil blanketed with dirt, stones, and no life whatsoever, gave the image of a graveyard during the haunting hours more than that of a park where you might make magic happen with a confession. This isn’t even to mention the complete lack of birds or bugs. The air was stagnant, and something was quite obviously off. This wasn’t a place where you wanted to stay for more than you needed to in the worst of cases, and a place that you just took the long way around in the best. None of this dissuaded the two girls, one of which was, as they say, ‘riding or dying’ for her friend (riding and dying, however, would be more correct in this case), and the other simply had no interest in the scenery, a far more grave matter making the rounds in her head, something that had been torturing her for long, an aching secret that left a bitter aftertaste to every happy moment between the two.

And that is simply no way to live.

Aimi’s grip tightened on Michiko’s hand, which the bespectacled girl noticed. “...Aimi? Is everything ok? You’re far more tense than usual, and you do crazy stuff all the time.”

“Crazy is easy,” she replied. “This being a bit too sane is what worries me.”

The shorter girl stopped, bringing both of them to a halt. “Now, look, I don’t wanna push you, but this has had you acting weird as of late. Just what is it that has you like this? You rejected going for a burger -- my treat -- because you weren’t feeling up to it, and then you called me at 4:30 am the next day, saying we needed to abso-posi-you-better-believe-it come here yes or yes do or double die today. That’s not normal!”

“...Hmm, yeah, calling at four in the morning is a bit overkill...”

“You always call me at four in the morning, you expired pancake! But it’s always for a prank or a laugh! You do funny, stupid voices and stuff like that, not dire and ambiguous invitations to a park that looks like it contracted the Black Plague!”

“...F-fair, but the voices are pretty intelli--”

“Aimi.”

The stylish girl sighed and sat down on the oddly colored bench. “...Right, I guess I’ve dragged both of our feet a tad too long. Michiko, see, the thing is... Um?” -- Aimi couldn’t help be puzzled by Michiko’s expression of pure, abject horror -- “Michii? I haven’t actually told you anything yet, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“A-An ogre.” she stuttered back at the inquiry, with the elegance and dignity of a dog that has been caught tangled with the curtains.

“Well, geez, ok, an ogre, a ghost, same thing, what’s up?”

“AN OGRE IS WHAT’S UP, AIMI!” yelled the terrified girl, pointing behind Aimi.

“I think she’s talkin’ ‘bout me, but I could be wrong. Maybe there’s an ogre behind me? Could y’be a love and check behind me, lass?” a grim and mocking voice playfully requested, a hot breeze of freezing air licking Aimi’s ear as the unnatural voice broke into laughter. Wasting no time, Aimi immediately got off the bench, startled, and faced the tall, lanky beast that stood at least thrice her size, a towering creature of bony limbs and jawed teeth. Skulls and bells adorned her waist, neatly hanging by a sash, and she was immediately sent flying through a tree after Aimin landed an impeccable spinning kick right to her lower jaw, using the momentum to--

Wait, what?

The creaking of a tree collapsing under its own weight after the Oni was sent flying through it went completely unheard, for Michiko’s “Eeeeeh!?” was deafening enough. In the distance, a somewhat angelic, but subtle “Eeeeeh!?”, fortunately also went completely unheard. “A-Aimi, what was that!?”

“That was a spin kick. A Rolling Savate, if we wanna be pedan--”

“AIMI, I AM VERY CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT THE ONI! Wait, no, not the Oni! The fact that you kicked the Oni through a tree! Well, the Oni, too, but-- Ok, you! What is going on!”

“...What Oni? That was a stray dog.”

“Stray dogs don’t speak fluent Japanese and don’t wear skulls and bell on their waists! And they don’t have horns!”

“You’ve just had a sheltered life, Michii. They totally do.”

“Aimi.”

“O-ok, ok, I c-can explain, kinda, it’s just that--”

But before Aimi could begin trying to weave a tale or explanation outta this one, the beast was back on its feet, clutching its jaw. With thunderous footsteps that crushed the cobblestone under it, the Oni finally approached the pair of girls, invading Aimi’s blue eyes with its fully red own. Letting go of its jaw, it pointed a long and bony finger at her adversary, the air stagnant with intimidating anticipation. Michiko couldn’t move a muscle nor speak a word. The beast finally opened its mouth: “Eeeeeh!? What the hell was that!? Who the hell kicks an Oni in the face as their first reaction!? That ain’t fair! How’dja do that!?”

“...Ah?” the glasses girl let out, the scene playing right in front of her not quite living up to her expectations of something that should be impossible and mystic.

“For real! What the hell! Do ya just kick people in the face when they tap yer shoulder and are like, ‘hey, here’s the eraser ya dropped’, ya damn miscreant! Apologize to me! Apologize to me right now, or I’ll eat yer frieEEEEEAAAAAAAA!!!!”

Whatever threat the Oni was making didn’t exactly pan out, as Aimi immediately went for its legs in the middle of its little speech, seized them, and begun spinning the beast in the air.

“Holy shit!” a bespectacled voice exclaimed.

“Holy shit!” an exasperated Oni voice yelped.

“Sacred feces!” an angelic voice yelled, unheard to anyone but herself.

“Oraaaaaa!” Aimi cried, spinning faster and faster until she attained sufficient momentum to launch just about anything out of the stratosphere, chucking the monster through many more trees this time. “Piss off already, damn it! You’re ruining my important day!”

“H-haha!” the Oni laughed, coming back battered, bruised, and clearly in pain. “Y-you can’t defeat me with yer p-puny human strength...?” -- the Oni seemed to have difficulty believing the things that were coming out of her own dislocated mouth -- “Only the Branch of Amenunohoko can--”

As if possessed by the soul of a particularly furious housewife after her husband flushed the toilet while she was in the shower, the stylish girl stuck her hand behind the bench, produced the gold and silver branch, and she smashed it over the Oni’s head in one fell swoop, breaking it in half. “PISS OFF”. Picking the broken halves, Aimi proceeded to pretend the Oni was a taiko drum with her makeshift clubs. “Just! Get! Out! Already! Uggggh!”. After the Oni was practically mashed potatoes, Aimi discarded the now regular looking branches and approached her friend once anew. “Dogs are wild nowadays, aren’t they, Michii!”

“...Aimi, just what in the world is going...” is all the poor, confused girl could say, clearly still processing the scandalously brutal beatdown her best friend just inflicted on the Oni. Oh, and the Oni probably has to do with her confusion, too, maybe. Aimi could only sigh again, dejectedly looking at the floor, then the sky, and sighing again before finally looking at Michiko in the eyes.

“Look, Michii... The thing is... What I wanted to tell you is that I... I--! Get back!”. AImi immediately pushed Michiko away and turned around just in time to block a massive overhead hammer punch from the Oni, who was suddenly back on its feet. Aimi’s thin arms somehow blocked the attack, but she sunk halfway to her torso through the ground from the impact and heft of the blow. “Guh...! This is the strength of an Oni, alright...! I guess you finally decided to stop playing around!”

“...Me?” replied the now serene Oni, seemingly not harmed in the slightest from the drum solo or the Giant Swing Aimi inflicted on its body. “I ain’t the one playin’ around, missy, ya know that well. You got some guts pretendin’ to be just any ol’ preppy high school girl, ya fox.”

“...! Not one more word out of you!” Aimi barked back, her composure beginning to melt much like her knees under the immense strength of the hand that threatened to crush her against the ground.

“Yeah, yer right, no more words, we speak with actions now!” the Oni announced with a mocking laughter ten times colder than its hyperbolic act when it met them by the bench. This wasn’t the guffaw of a children’s book’s picaresque and colorful villain, no, this was the genuine snickering of a blood starved beast who was finally found some meat after surviving on dirt and berries for who knows how long. Cocking its free hand, the Oni swung a hook with her left hand, smashing its massive hand against the exposed side of the girl, launched her in the air with a yelp. “How’s that for a greetin’, ya shit.”

“Aimi! Oh god, Aimi!”

“Hey! Nahoko! What the hell are you doing!?” Astra chastised her partner through her radio. “Did you seriously hit a human for real!?”

“...Astrael, two things.” the Oni replied, holding two fingers against the comm on her right ear. “The first is that yer wrong. That right there ain’t no human. Fooled us both real good, didn’t she?”

“...Huh?”

As the dust dissipated from where the school girl landed, a silhouette of a thin, tall girl was vaguely visible. Same long legs, same long hair, same thing arms, and yet, the silhouette was fundamentally different... Or rather, complete. “Aimi...?” The silhouette became clearer and clearer as the dust settled, with two long, fox-like ears pointing upwards, and massive fox tail protruding behind her. For someone that just got ragdolled by an honest to God Oni Haymaker, she was looking pretty good. Stepping forward, she cracked her neck and then her knuckles.

“...Michii, get behind me.”

“Aimi, you... What, what is going on!?”

“Michiko!” finally burst the fox girl, startling the confused, smaller girl. “...Look, I’ll explain everything, I promise, this is... Relevant as to why we are here today, but for now, I need you to trust me, ok? That thing is dangerous. Stay behind me. I’ll protect you with everything I got, and after I’m done with it, I’ll tell you everything.” Michiko was afraid and confused, but she didn’t doubt her friend’s words for one second, nodding and quickly running behind Aimi, at a safe distance.

“...And the second thing, Astrael...” continued the Oni, “...is that ya can count me out. That there Kitsune is a real tough one, the kinda prime meat ya don’t find on the market just any day. And I am hungry. I am oh so hungry for a good damn fight after so long. This is the real pay I get outta this, I guess!”

“Oi, wait a minu--” is all the angel could get out before the Oni destroyed the comm, reducing it to fragments and chips by simply rubbing it between her fingers as they underwent a metamorphosis, losing their bony appearance, much to the surprise of the duo. “Over and out. Now, you, Kitsune... Aimi, was it? I reckon I might as well introduce myself prim and proper, the way momma taught me. Name’s Nahoko, and I am going to pummel you to a pulp.” Nahoko smirked and spat, walking towards Aimi with footsteps more akin to stomps that smashed the cobblestone under her all the same. “Don’t even concern yerself with protectin’ that kid behind ya. I am not interested in her in the slightest. Focus yerself fully on fightin’ me, ‘cause bruisin’ ya is all I’m lookin’ for, yeah?”

Right before their eyes, the beastly and uncanny Oni morphed, shrinking and becoming more properly proportioned, finally resembling a beautiful, very tall woman with long dark hair tied in a messy ponytail and warpaint adorning her face. “...I won’t ask why you were acting and looking like a fool before, but I suppose this means you’re going to be serious now.” shot back Aimi, a faint teal flame surrounding her hands, now balled into fists. “I suppose I can shit all over you for a bit, given you went and ruined my special day, you asshole.”

“Fuck off. Talk with yer hands, pussy.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

There we no more words. Oni and Kitsune clashed in the center of the cobblestone walkway, Aimi opening with a right straight that Nahoko countered with a headbutt, smashing her hard head against the thin girl’s fist, making her wince from the pain, but the Oni’s follow up swipe missed its mark, as Aimi twisted her body and rolled on Nahoko’s arm to get to her back, placing both of her palms against the back of her neck and blasting her with a localized explosion, sending her reeling.

“Hoh! That was supposed to behead you.” coldly complimented the Kitsune. “That was supposed to be an explosion inside of your neck. You have good magic resistance.”

“Hah! This hide of mine is pretty damn rugged!” boasted Nahoko, tapping her unscathed neck twice with a finger. “Yer gonna need Magic Emission on the level of a Faded Sigil in order to cast magic directly inside my body, so ya better start thinkin’ a new strat, fox.”

Although they fought with very different emotions, it was clear both wanted the other made into a bloody mess, stat, and so, they clashed, the Oni seeing a dance where the Kitsune saw a death match. As elbows and knees met and bone and sinew sang, from among the bushes, a tall, blonde woman emerged, rifle in hand. “Alright, that’s enough.” the vexes sniper announced, training her rifle at Michiko, freezing both fighters in place. “Let’s just cut to the chase.”

“Oi, Astra! Don’t fuckin’ intervene in this! I’ve wanted this for a long tiIIIAAAA!” In that singular moment of carelessness, Aimi seized Nahoko by the horns and threw her between Michiko and the sniper just as she squeezed the trigger, the bullet hitting Nahoko square in the chest, making her drop to a knee. “Guh!"

“Don’t you dare hurt Michiko! I’ll rip your apart!”

“Kitsune!” erupted the inflamed angel. “What is the meaning of this!? That bullet was meant for that girl! Do you think those are cheap!?”

“Astra, you god damn imbecile, of course she’s gonna block it! They ain’t even know yer a--!” but the Oni couldn’t finish what she was saying before a jolt shook her to the very core, her eyes fixating on the petite human girl she had unintentionally shielded. “...Hey... Yer... Yer damn cute as a button, now that I look at you better.”

“Oh.” The Kitsune, faster than the eye could possibly ever dare to perceive, grabbed the sniper by the collar, lifting her, a wicked grin on her face. “...A ranged weapon, angel, and a sudden infatuation... You wouldn’t happen to be a Cupid, would you?”

“N-No idea what you’re talking about.”

“And you wouldn’t happen to have shot that Oni with a Love Arrow just now, hmm?”

“Certainly within the realm of possibility.”

“Haha.”

“H-haha...”

“...”

“...Um, Kitsune, you--”

“I wonder if you bleed?” Aimi wondered with the sweetest smile as she clenched her fist hard enough that it sounded like rubber stretching.

“Fair, but you might want to look at Naho-- the Oni right now.”

“As if you could escape the Triple Deluxe Knuckle McSandwich that I am going to force feed you right now with a dumb trick like thaaaAAAAA WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY MICHII!”

As Astra and Aimi played mental footsies, the suddenly infatuated Oni, with a proper posture instead of her usual hunched over gait, approached the paralyzed Michiko, in utter awe and confusion at this behemoth of a curvaceous woman who towered over her, hips swinging with each step she took. “I can see why that fox likes ya! It’s like I could just hug ya while I sleep and dream the sweetest things, ya cute little radish stalk.” With the distance between them gone, the big hand of the tall woman fell upon the tiny girl’s head, bringing her closer and pressing her face against her exposed stomach, causing the little girl to yelp in surprise and bewilderment as she met her powerful abdominal muscles on a personal level. “I don’t even work out much anymore, but I think they are pretty good, ain’t they? Just wait till you feel them in action, you’ll see what I mean once I am rammin’ yer cute little body against my bedpo--”

“Oi! Watch your tongue!” the irate Kitsune yelled. “Don’t be saying things like that in public!”

“Oh? What, ya jealous? Then watch this.” Without further ado, Nahoko crouched, her face very close to Michiko’s own, lips half open and eyes half-lidded and... She lightly tapped her horns against Michiko’s forehead.

“Huh...? Wh-what was that...?” the human wondered, but one look at Aimi and the sniper seemed to clue her in to that having had a special meaning, because the Kitsune was beet red and the Angel was covering her mouth in amazement.

Spin Kick 2: The Return Of The Spin Kick, the long awaited sequel, interrupted the Oni’s scandalous invitation, sending her through yet another tree. “YYYYYOU! Lewd! Extremely lewd! What do you think you’re doing to my Michii!” howled Aimi, hugging her puzzled friend close. “You... Horny temptress! Michiko, are you alright?! More importantly, do you like taller girls? I mean, I am taller than you! Maybe not as tall as she is, but I am still good, right?”

“Um... Aimi? What does it mean when an Oni taps her horns against your head? and what are you--”

“And I can start working out, too! I’ll get some toned abs over the summer, so don’t you worry!”

“T-that’s cool, but, um, hey, so, what is... What is going on, dude?”

“...And plus, a less extreme height different is much cuter, if you ask m-- Hm? What do you mean, what is gOh.” -- Aimi finally returned to the real world -- Yeah, right, the, um, everything. Ok, so, Michii, this might be awkward, but--”

“...You’re... A Kitsune, Aimi.” finally blurted out Michiko, looking at the long, elegant ears that protruded from her friend’s head. “...So things like Kitsune and Oni are real, huh? This is kinda wild.” Aimi couldn’t find the words to answer to that or the courage to look at her in the eyes right now. With a long sigh, she finally worked the courage to say what she had wanted to say all these years, what she had come to say today.

“Michiko, please listen closely, ok? There’s no point in dolling it up by now, but, yeah, I am... A Kitsune. A legitimate Kitsune. I’ve kept this from you for all these years, and I really apologize for that. It’s felt horrible having to lie to you for so long, and I’ve wanted to tell you so, so much, but, well, it’s just not that easy. You’re a completely ordinary person, unaware of the the truth behind the fake ordinary world in which humans live. I was never supposed to tell you, or to even... Spend much time with you in the first place. It never was supposed to be like this.”

Meanwhile, rising from the rubble nearby, a revived Nahoko was ready for round two. “Alright, you cheeky little shithead, we were just going for pleasure before, but now, iiiiit’s business! I am aimin’ to kill ya if ya want to lay a hand on my Michiko!”

However, the Oni couldn’t move. Much to her surprise, she found her arm seized and a cold blade pressed against her neck, a trickle of blood trailing down her collarbone. “Wha...! How and when did you...?”

“Do not interrupt, Nahoko. If you interrupt this right now, I will kill you.” Astra promised, holding Nahoko perfectly still, despite her struggling. “Besides...”

“Haha, fuck, so you can actually... Well, aight. ‘Besides’ what?”

“It’s getting good as shit.”

“What do you mean, it was never supposed to be like this...?” inquired the puzzled Michiko, dreading the tone of that statement.

“...I initially just got close to you because I wanted to humiliate you. It’s what we Yako, or Nogitsune, do. Being malicious and mischievous is in our nature, and we love toying with humans, sometimes just to lead them to misfortune, other times to lead them to ruination or even death. I wanted to get your trust so I could throw it to the ground when you least expected it.” explained Aimi with a plastic, apologetic smile. “Oh, look at that tiny little loser, she has no friends, she doesn’t go anywhere after school, she just sits by herself during lunch... Is what I thought when I saw you for the first time in school. I saw an easy pick, is what I am trying to say. I went for it. All you were to me was a future accomplishment, a funny story I’d tell to my family some time later during lunchtime, when it was Humans Are Dumb story time.”

“...Aimi, I...”

“Remember the first time we talked? I asked you if you wanted to partner up with me for gym class. You gave it your absolute everything, more than I ever saw you try any time before, because you didn’t want to drag me down. After that, you overcame your shyness and asked me if I wanted to hang out after school. I was surprised, but not truly moved. Not yet, at least. Time passed, we did this and that, you were always on board with my dumb ideas, and you even stuck through our, no, my punishment whenever I got caught. Why didn’t you ever just say it had been my idea? You could’ve gotten away with no punishment, no suspension every single time.”

“Because I was having fun with you. I couldn’t just--”

“Couldn’t just abandon me just because things went south, right? Because that’s the thrice accursed kind of person you are. Time and time and time again, you stood by my side, during the little detentions, and during the big suspensions. I hate you... I hate you for being like that!”

“...Aimi, what are you saying...! I just couldn’t... Turn my back on the first person that--”

“I hate you because I love you, you big idealistic idiot! You never suspected I could have been trying to mess with you, not even once! You didn’t distrust me when you should have! You never once even entertained the idea that I might have just been preparing you for the biggest humiliation of your life, and you just kept treating me like a friend, over and over and over! Too naive! You’re the kind of person that a Nogitsune has a field day with! You are the person that ends up being ruled as a suicide in the middle of a lake or a forest because we can simply toy with you at will!”

“Well, what could I have done, you imbecile! You want me to look at my first and best friend in life and just turn a blind eye whenever she needs me!? If I couldn’t trust you, then who could I trust? Call it naive, call it dumb, I don’t care, I don’t regret a single one of those decisions! It’s been the best time in my life, so you... How can you just call it a waste and something dumb!? Are you out of your... Out of your... Aimi?”

In front of Michiko, the fox girl had broken into tears. The usually haughty girl who stood up to anyone and got in trouble at all times, famous problem child Aimi, who had just gone toe to toe with an Oni, now had streaks of sorrow trailing down her face and her ears were drooping down, an unending stream of tears staining her usually immaculate face currently contorted by sorrow. “...You’re like this, and this is why I hate it... I hate it because I love you...! I love you! I love you so freaking much, Michii! It was all just supposed to be a prank, a ploy, but I didn’t consider the most important aspect of it all: How much I came to care for you, and how much you came to care for me... Every time things were hard for me, you’d stay with me one the phone until the high hours of the morning. When I had problems with my folks, problems I never once told you about, you trusted me, you let me stay over at your place, and damn, I have never enjoyed myself more than the time I get to spend with you. So I’ve felt horrible! I’ve felt horrible because I only wanted to harm you, I lied to you, I kept so much from you, but you kept giving!”

“...Aimi, friendship isn’t about keeping tallies!”

“It should be! No... Well, it’s like that... At least among my family, it is, but I want to believe you. So, I decided to bring you here today so I could tell you. So, please, let me do it properly now. Ahem, um, Michiko, I’m sorry I lied, I’m actually a Kitsune, a Nogitsune, specifically. I couldn’t just tell you, but as time passed, I couldn’t just not tell you anymore.”

“...Well, I mean, this is where I should be surprised and demanding an explanation, but after seeing you and that Oni go Wuxia on each other, and given you kinda just told me already, anyways, well... This is awkward, haha!”

“Ahahaha, yeah, not the most ideal confession, could’ve gone better.”

“Still, Aimi, thank you for telling me this, thank you for everything you’ve done for me and for deciding to trust me with this, even with the malicious beginnings of our friendship, everything. I don’t feel like there’s anything for me to ‘forgive’, per se, but I want to ease your mind as well, so if it’ll help, I forgive you, please don’t worry about it.”

The fox girl smiled and her ears shot upwards. “Michii...! Does that mean...!” Before Aimi could finish what she was saying, the smaller girl rushed her and buried her face against her chest, trapping her in a tight hug.

“Of course I don’t mind! Please don’t go away! I’ll keep your secret, I wanna keep getting in trouble with you, doing dumb things, getting called at 4:30 am to hear your silly voices and jokes, everything! Also, I wanna touch your ears and tail, but that’s neither here and there!” joyfully cried the smaller girl, embracing her friend tightly.

“Ahahaha! Gosh, as usual, you do not hold back, but hey, um... About what I said... Um, I meant it in a lot of ways, but also a very specific way...”

“Hm?” Without letting go of her hug, Michiko, whose face was burried in Aimi’s chest, looked up to meet her eye to eye, just to find a beet red Aimi. “...Whatcha mean?”

“T-that I... That I love you. I love you so, so much. You’re the best thing that has happened to me, and my life has only been sweet and fun since we’ve been doing our thing. I wanna know... If you feel the same way, or if, you know, both of us being girls gets in the way, you know, important stuff! You feel me! Don’t make me say it!”

“I don’t... Understand what you’re saying, Aimi, this is all too sudden, can you please repeat that for m-me...?”

“Aaaarrgh! Michii! I’m saying that I love you so much it makes my heart hurt! I want to hug you and cuddle with you and... Gosh, just run my fingers through your puffy, curly hair as I smooch you right in those adorable cheeks, could you please get it already! I love you!”

“Hehe...”

“...! Oh, you little shit!”

“Sorry, sorry! I just wanted to hear you say those things, haha! You’re so cute when you get flustered, Aimi! Haha!”

“See! This is the shit I put up with! I’m the fox but sometimes I’m the one being tricked! How dare you, you absolutely rotten pancake! You hideous macaroon! You heretic beef stew from two days ago! You--”

“Hehe... Yes.”

“--soggy french fri-- Huh?”

“...Yes. Of course I want to go out with you. I love you too, silly. Kitsune or human, boy or girl, you think that matters to me when my favorite person in the world is the one saying it? I love you. I want to see what kind of trouble we can get into tomorrow, the day after, the year after, the decade after... Ideally, forever. I don’t want to get separated from you, and... Well, you know what my parents say? ‘The best person you could possibly date, love, and grow old with is your best friend’.”

“Michii...”

“And you know what, Aimi?”

Standing on the tip of her toes, the petite human pressed the softest kiss on the lips of the Kitsune, holding her face with both of her hands. “...I’m inclined to believe them. Let’s keep having fun together, now and ever, AImi. I love you.”

“...Once again, you ambush me when I least expect it, gosh... I-I had this whole thing where I was gonna embrace you and kiss you and all, I even had a good line prepared!”

“Hehe! Well, do it now! We have all the time in the world...”

“Ahem.”

Their little world was shattered down to pieces the moment a particularly angelic interruption reminded them that they were not alone. “Ah.” “Oh!”

“Good for you, kiddos, but you shouldn’t be swapping spit in front of strangers.” reprimanded Astra, who had Nahoko on top of her shoulders, hogtied and blindfolded. “Still, congratulations. I hope you two have an excellent future together.” As she said this, however, the voice of the sniper was at its softest yet, and a genuine smile adorned her lips. “Take care of each other, yeah?”

“Yes!” the enthusiastic Michiko exclaimed, hugging her girlfriend tight and close.

“...This was all weird, but, yeah. And... Thank you, Miss Cupid... Even though you totally missed your shot, haha. Um, before you go, can I ask you... Is this park Scenario Witchery?” inquired Aimi as she held Michiko close, a hand on top of her head.

“...Oho. Good eyes, Kitsune. This park is, indeed, my Scenario Witchery. During your confession, I could’ve made all these dead trees bloom and a million of flowers erupt, but... That would’ve been way too cheesy, no? Way too cheesy. It would’ve really been too cheesy.”

“Ah, she wanted to do that, huh.” both girls thought to themselves.

“It’s also why I recommend you to get out as soon as you can. The time limit is the end of today, so just in a couple of hours. I’d held this Scenario for the last three weeks. This ‘park’ is actually an empty lot that will be made into a big building soon. I hear it’s a mall, so I say you two come here for a date when that’s ready. It’ll be fun to revisit what technically was where that cute fox confessed oh so clumsily, no?”

“Oi, you...”

“Hehe!” chuckled Michiko. “Yeah, we’ll come, right, Aimi?”

“...Y-yeah, if you wanna. Well, thank you, Miss Cupid, we’ll be on our way, then.” Aimi said, waving half-heartedly.

“Mmhm! I don’t really get it, but I suppose you’re the one responsible for this! So thank you!” chimed the enthusiastic smaller girl.

“Yeah, take care, I’ll go dump this dumb Oni on Meguro river or something now.” And with that said, Astrael walked away with the struggling Nahoko, disappearing among the trees.

As they walked home together, Michiko tugged on Aimi’s arm. “Aimi, what’s Scenario Witchery?”

“It’s a very complex kind of magic. Basically, you morph one area into something else entirely for a certain amount of time, and when people are in this artificial area, they become ‘players’ or ‘actors’ in the Scenario. People trapped in a Scenario have their usual reason and logic skewered by the Scenario, as if a compelling power forced you to act or think a certain way.”

“...Isn’t that really dangerous? That’s practically modifying the thoughts and emotions of people!”

“Yeah, it’s very powerful, and hence why it is so complex and difficult. I consider myself pretty skilled in magic, but I cannot make any sort of Scenario Witchery. That Cupid was really something else. She was using her Scenario to make couples come together, but she really could’ve just made the Scenario ‘a bloodbath where lovers become unable to believe each other and then devolved into brutal violence, with one or both dying’, if she so wished. Scenario Witchery is forbidden due to how it can be used, hence why it’s ‘witchery’ and not ‘magic’.” explained Aimi, serious for once. “...I’m glad she’s using it benevolently, but... No mere Cupid can just handle Scenarios... And even then, her magic felt very grim, it had me on edge, but...”

“...Aimi?”

“...It doesn’t matter anymore. Hey, can we go to your place? I’d like to let auntie and uncle know the good news.”

“N-not so fast, bucko! We should keep it under wraps for now!”

“Haha! I’m kidding, I’m kidding, but still, I wanna hang out.”

“Hehe, yeah, of course! I found a pretty good band last night, I wanna show you their first album, ‘cause their latest one sucks, but their early stuff is absolutely your kinda deal.”

“Ohh, cool! What kinda stuff do they do? I swear if you show me enka again like the last time you said you found some real gold, I’m gonna...”

The new couple laughed and talked their way home peacefully, each with an arm around each other, each with their lips curved into a genuine smile.

11:30 pm.

Along the empty back roads of Meguro, a single woman, carrying another woman over her shoulder, made her way across the night, many closed businesses to her right, the empty street to her left. February 14th, Valentine’s Day, where everyone was sharing a moment with their loved ones. This could count as sharing a moment, if you really squint, because it’s not every day you say an Angel hoist a hogtied Oni atop her shoulder. “Alright, we’re far enough.” Finally setting Nahoko down, Astra cut her bindings and finally freed her. “Nice acting, knucklehead. Sure had them fooled.”

“...But it seems I couldn’t fool ya, hah! How did ya know?” the Oni asked, once again producing her favorite pipe to smoke from.

“That Love Arrow was calibrated for a human. There’s no way an Oni would be in the least affected by a Love Arrow that weak, between your own high magic resistance and an Oni’s natural poison resistance. I’d need something like a .905 SSK caliber Love Arrow round to affect you.”

“Well, caught me with the fingernails in the pot.” admitted Nahoko, lifting her arms in mock surrender.

“It was actually really helpful. You wanted to really rile up the fox, and it paid off. Your next drink is on me, Nahoko. You really have my thanks. And with that... We’re done. Congratulations.” said the Angel, warmth in her voice.

“Aw, sweet, I am going to bankrupt you! Bwahaha, but, yeah, japes aside, good shit, Astrael, that went well. Got bumpy for a bit, but it went well. It honestly was tons of fun. I’m actually kinda sad this job’s over.” Nahoko commented as she tried to get on her feet, but when she tried to get up on her left leg, the Oni winced and dropped back to the floor.

“Are you ok? I guess the pain from those blows wasn’t fully an act. Here, let me give you a hand.”

“Ah, no no, I’m mostly fine, but my left leg... These spikes? Well, they are real.”

“Wait, what?” The Angel was puzzled. “I thought they were just part of your outfit.”

“...Well, that’s kinda what I hope people think, but I, uh... Well, I fucked up a long time ago, and it’s kinda related to why I accepted this job. This is a curse I fully deserve, ‘cause I did something really dumb a long time ago, a crime of passion, one might say, and got cursed with this as a result. This is the least of my problems, though, the real curse is livin’ with the fact that I... Well, doesn’t matter now.”

They were finally outside of the hotel where Astra was staying. With a motion, Astra invited her in, to which Nahoko nodded. In Astra’s room, the conversation continued. “I’m not gonna press you for questions, but, hey, Nahoko, are you going do something after this?”

“It’s back to the vagabond’s life for me, really. As I said before, I just took this job on a whim, and... Well, to make amends, I suppose.”

“Well, if you aren’t going to do anything, I want to hire you.” bluntly stated the sniper. “I’ll pay you well, too. I have a sponsor, after all. I realized my objective is much more easily achieved with a partner, and you know the land and the people’s customs. I am very much a foreigner, after all, so having someone native would really help.”

Nahoko’s boisterous face finally softened a bit as she heard Astra’s offer, before finally bursting in a goofy guffaw. “Hah! Hahaha! Bwaaahaha! You for real, girl? A Cupid and an Oni, shittin’ around ol’ Nippon’s highways, shootin’ love at people? Pushin’ inexperienced people towards their happily ever afters? Well, fuck, aight, it’s not like I got anything else goin’, honestly, sure! Sign me the fuck up, cap’n!” The Oni’s laughter, still boisterous as ever, was also very warm right now, the kind of warmth that comes from finding purpose, and maybe, just maybe, atonement.

“Then, it’s settled. I, Astrael, hereby appoint you, Nahoko of Mount Ooe, as my Assistant Cupid. Now go get a bath, you’ll stay here. You’ve had enough of sleeping in caves and under bridges, I take?”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice! Be right back!”

As the Oni got in the bath, Astra pulled out her phone and hit call. “...Hey, it’s me. Oh, it all went swimmingly. The Scenario will be dispelled in just a couple of minutes, at midnight. Yeah. Yeah. No, no problem. Also, something else, ma’am, I’ve decided to hire an Oni to help me with my next tasks. Yeah, I figured you’d laugh like this and would be ok with it. Mmhm, if it’s not much trouble, I will need additional funds to pay her and all. Alright, that’s all, talk to you later, then, Inari.”

With a “that’s settled, then” face, Astra finally put down her rifle and various sidearms, sitting on her bed and stretching. It had been a long three weeks, and a hell of a way to conclude them, but she finally had managed to turn Valentine’s into a memorable experience for many couples that would otherwise still be twiddling their thumbs. With a content sigh, Astra finally relaxed, and the bathroom’s door swung open. “Hey, Nahoko, I already talked to the boss, she said it’s fiWoah what who are you”

Out of the bathroom, covered only in a towel too tiny for a woman that big, came out an absolutely gorgeous woman with long and smooth hair as black as midnight cascading around her curvaceous, voluptuous frame, smooth pale skin, striking red eyes, and light pink lips that one could feel their softness with just one’s eyes. Turns out, when she’s not wearing those tacky bells and bones, or the war paint, or the mix and match clothes, the messy ponytail, or anything else, Nahoko looked quite stupendous, or so Astra thought, anyways, if we go by her complete lack of words and powerful stare. An unwashed savage who smelled of sake and grime entered the bathroom, but a supermodel came out. Notably, the spikes that jutted out of Nahoko’s leg were retracting right in front of her eyes.

“I can at least pull these back for a limited about of time, which is useful whenever I wanna sleep without fuckin’ shredding futons or beds, bwaha. Anyways, what were ya sayin’?”

“O-oh, nothing, you’re officially hired, that’s all. So, take the bed, I’ll sleep in the sofa today. This is a one person room, after all.”

“What’s with that? Nah, we’ll both take the bed, it’s cool.”

“What!? No, no, it’s not cool, I can take the sofa, I’ve slept in worse places.” argued the Angel, trying to find anywhere to look and just finding herself more and more flustered. “Anyways, good night, we gotta get up early tomorr--!”

As she tried to make a beeline towards the couch, the long and strong arms of the almost naked Oni scooped her up and trapped her, pressing her against her dangerous body, still warm, wet, and steaming from the bath. “Oh no, ya don’t! Why the hell would ya take the couch? We can take the bed, there’s plenty space in it for both of us.”

“That’s not what this is abOh Lord I know I’ve forsaken you but please help me” she immediately cried mid-sentence when she found her face pressed against the Oni’s chest, a chest that had to have been hand crafted by the best and most libidinous artisan in the world. “--Anyways, it’s just not right to share beds, we don’t even know each other that well!”

“Oh, what, really?” Nahoko wondered, unaware that she was subjecting Astra to a Full Contact Skinship Torture. “We’ve known each other for three weeks, though? That’s plenty, girl. Back in Mount Ooe, us underlings had to use the smaller caves, and there were plenty of us, so it usually was the case that three or four of us had to sleep together, bundled on one mat or somethin’. We hadta be thrifty with space usage, so we came up with many ways to do so. This bed, for example...” Nahoko, still with Astra pressed against her body, got in the bed, placing Astra on top of her, their bodies pressed together more than ever, one of the Oni’s arm tightly around Astra’s waist. “...Yeah, this works, see? One bed, two people, no problemo. Hell, we still have space, so we can even be luxurious and do this.”

“aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” is all that went on the Angel’s mind, who was trying her best to remain conscious through this carnal assault on her senses. While she fought her inner self, Nahoko got her off from on top of her and put her on her side, instead, slinging an arm around her and hugging her tightly, making the two of them fit in the bed just right, Astra’s face buried against the tall woman’s collarbone, feeling very well how the rest of those dangerous curves pressed tightly against her own body, leaving nothing to the Angel’s imagination. “Oh my God I Am Going To Die.”

“See? We’re good like this. Aight, partner, see you in the mornin’, we gotta hit the road early, shoot ‘em Love Arrows, the works, right?”

“Y-yeah... Wait, no! I gotta take a bath! I’m all sweaty and--”

“Oh, don’t bother, what’s a little sweat between friends? See you tomorrow, Astra.” Nahoko chuckled, and then immediately went to sleep, her powerful arms hugging Astra so tightly and closely that the Angel couldn’t escape that voluptuous Alcatraz, no matter how hard she struggled.

Finally settling down and realizing the futility of her efforts, Astrael simply gave up and swung an arm around her new peer, pressing herself close and burying her face on the smooth skin of the Oni’s collarbone and top of her chest, a muffled “Thank you God but also fuck you, I’m supposed to Cupid” escaping her lips as she decided she might as well enjoy this, given she had no chance but to last until morning like this.

This wasn’t why she decided to hire her, but it certainly didn’t hurt for Cupid to find someone of her own on such an eventful Valentine’s Day.

It goes without saying she didn’t sleep a wink.

The rumbling of the truck’s engine waiting by the hotel’s door accompanied the sounds coming from the radio as Nahoko loaded their luggage.

“We’re checked out, packed up and ready, boss!”

“Don’t call me boss, just refer to me normally.”

“Heh, thought so, Astrael.”

“...Astra’s fine.”

The Oni just smiled. “Aww, lookitchu, being nice and shit. Well, Astra, where are we goin’ next?”

“Shinagawa sounds nice, doesn’t it? It’s more populous than Meguro, so we’re sure to find people in their post-Valentine’s blues.”

“Ooh, aimin’ for the target while they are down, huh? I like it. Sounds good to me, let’s be their coincidence, their first push!”

“...The convenient little event they need to take that first step.”

Bumping their fists, Astrael stepped on the gas, and off they went, the two Love Legionnaires, Angel and Oni, off to cause some trouble to greenhorn little pansies that wish to be lovers, to be their coincidences.

#code:astrael #length:long #format:one off

43 notes · View notes