#Do you think they’ve ever sat across from each other during an executive meeting

[ettaevie]

As much as I love Verlaine’s ending, it's still wild to me that he’s like, Chuuya’s coworker now.

I’m sure they see each other rarely if ever but like… it’s so weird right?

#Do you think they’ve ever sat across from each other during an executive meeting #and Chuuya just thinks to himself that someone else should be sitting in that seat? #But he just has to be civil and discuss budget cuts or whatever? #bsd stormbringer #stormbringer #bsd verlaine #bsd chuuya #Welcome Back to me talking

[thesleepy1]

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.”

#arthur pendragon x merlin #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #merlin #merthur #guinevere #arthur pendragon #knights of the round table #guinevere pendragon #bbc arthur #king arthur #king merlin #arthurian legend #gwen #morgana #morgana pendragon #bbc gwen #gwen pendragon #arthur #morgwen #bbc merthur #fanfic #fanfic writing #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic rec

[blueseasfanfics]

Hidden Mavia 2

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 1295

Warnings: Maybe one curse word

These people think of weird things in mission meetings. You had been around them and in this place for a while, so you felt comfortable letting your mind out to play just a bit more. It gets so boring being cooped up inside your own head. The best times to do that was during meetings. You never made them say anything, or put any ideas in their heads, you simply just watched and listened. It felt like watching an animal in a zoo during the meetings, they often just let their thoughts wander and it was interesting. Steve mainly just thought about Bucky, and Bucky mainly just thought about Steve. They were always attached at the hip together, it made sense. It was better than their memories, those always got a bit depressing. Tony was constantly thinking about how the world was going to end, then what to build in order to stop it. The calculations he thought of on the spot were impressive, and you always know he would be able to execute in real life. Natasha worryingly imagined all the different ways to incapacitate everyone in the room, often with either nothing or a pencil. She hadn't imagined fighting you yet, but that's probably because she had no idea what she was dealing with. Smart. Bruce was constantly fighting back Hulk, who would randomly yell something like 'HUNGRY' at random times. His mind was annoying. Thor thought mainly about memories. It was nice, watching his mind play through the equivalent of home videos. A lot had to do with Loki stabbing him, though. You couldn't tell if that's what Loki thought of. Loki never paid attention to the meetings, but only on you. Every time. He would stare at you, and you at him, and he seemed to issue a challenge with his eyes. Each time, he barricaded his mind, and would lean back as you would break in. He seemed to be trying to test his limits, knowing that you wouldn't dare go above a certain limit with everyone in the room. It hadn't been a problem yet, you always were able to break it down without too much effort, except for one day. You weren't sure what anyone else was talking about, you couldn't even focus on anything else, except for Loki's little smirk, knowing he had barricaded himself enough to where you didn't dare push further. "Apologies. Just wanted to have a conversation without fear of my thoughts being broadcasted yet again." His voice spoken to you, although his lips hadn't moved. You set your jaw. "I can still get past this, you know." "Yes, but you won't." He physically settles back in his chair. "What do you want to talk about then, that's more important than this mission?" "You don't care about the mission." "I'm quickly losing any care I have of this conversation." Silence from him for a couple of minutes. "I just want to find out about you." He snaps you out of watching Natasha imagine killing him with a sock she's wearing. "You've already found out about my abilities." "Are you only your abilities?" "I don't know, are you only an annoying pest in my mind?" "Usually. What's your opinion on horses?" "Odd question but doesn't matter. Judging on you as a child, however, I can see you like them a lot." He stiffens slightly, looking over at Thor. You nod. "Does he often think of me?" "Yes. Mainly of you hurting him, however. Though that's probably because that's all you did to him." "Usually, yes. Did you do that to your siblings?" "Why are you asking me first date questions." "I'm not sure I've ever asked someone if they've hurt their sibling on a first date." He chuckles audibly, and a couple of the others give him a dirty glare. "Control yourself." You smirk over at him. "This reminds me of passing notes in middle school." "Why didn't you just speak to them telepathically?" You don't answer the question, instead listening to Steve's thoughts about Canadian politics. Odd. "You have to answer these questions one of these days." Loki pipes in again, louder than before, and you roll your eyes." "Why should I? I don't owe you answers to anything." "I know nothing about you. It's an odd feeling." "Get used to it." "Aren't you lonely?" Silence from you. "You must be. You're holed up behind those walls in your mind, and nothing gets out. I don't know your original name, I don't know your family, I don't even know your favorite color. You just walk into others minds, and watch. If anything, you're the fly on the wall." "Yes, but I never actually turned into a fly on the wall." You sent him the memory that Thor was thinking of now. "Beside the point." You stay silent, just watching him now at this point. "I'm not lonely. I just don't trust you." "You don't trust me with the knowledge of your favorite color." "Not particularly, no. I don't trust anyone in this room with anything." "Even if you can go in their mind and see their thoughts and plans?" "I can't do that with you now, can I." He shuffles in his seat. "If you make me speak, we will have an issue." He says. "Damn, my plans to make you declare your love for Steve are foiled." You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes as he takes down any barriers he has. Slowly and carefully, you poke through his thoughts, him watching you the whole time with his chin resting in his palm. "Have you found anything incriminating?" He seems to purr into your thoughts. "Of course I have. Do you know how many crimes you've committed? Christ, I should lock you up. Though, I think you'd like that." "Don't look at my fantasies." "I didn't even do that yet." You shoot him an innocent smile and he rolls his eyes. "Let me think about it." You say, backing out of his thoughts, and he sighs. You watch more memories of Loki from Thor for the rest of the meeting, trying to ignore Loki's eyes boring a hole in your cheek. -------- The next day, you find Loki in the kitchen, sitting next to Thor who's talking about how danishes were actually created by Austrians and how he found this ridiculous. You didn't even have to look into Loki's mind to find that he see's this numbingly boring. You sat across from him with some toast. "I have two brothers, I don't know where they are now and I don't really care. My favorite food are blueberries, my favorite flowers are sunflowers. My favorite animal is either a snake or a whale, and my favorite color is green." His eyes snap up to yours, and you see him bite his lip a little bit. "What made you decide I was trustworthy?" "Thor loves you. You have stabbed him countless times, but you've also healed him many more times. You're a good man, even though you try to hide it." He rolls his eyes at that, but blushes anyway. Neither of you say anything. "You never told me your name." "What makes you think I would give you that?" "Niceties." "What makes you think I'm nice?" You cock an eyebrow, taking your toast and walking away. "Well. That was odd. She didn't even say anything." Thor comments as they both watch you leave. "She said more than you can ever know." Loki grumbles, and Thor gives him a confused look. "Just never enough." Loki sighs, finishing his coffee and leaving Thor confused and sitting alone on a counter holding a plate of danishes. "Everyone in this tower is mad in the head."

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TAGLIST (Message to be added!)

@fuckthatfeeling @drakesfiance @ihavenofilter @nalokoniloki @forthesnakeofdragons @astridanalisenightshade @kcd15 @itsrooooo @blatantly-lokean

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #fiverr #loki marvel

[jasonfvkingtodd]

Wolf  [Part 1]

Warnings: Slight mention of mental illnesses

I awoke with a throbbing headache from the earlier 'session'. Ive been stuck in this cell, tortured for weeks or even months on end in 'The Lab'. My own blood was on the floor and walls of the cells, it stank like the pits of hell. Why were they doing this? Both my tank top and tactical pants were caked with blood. When was the last time I actually cleaned up? Fuck.

A group of men burst into the cell and dragged me across a long corridor, illuminated with bright white lights. A bald man with a goatee wearing a white lab coat greeted me. As from what I’ve have gathered from the conversations my captors had, his name was Sadiq.

"Jasmine, nice to see that you've... recovered. Lets begin with our next session." Sadiq smirked.

I then glanced down to find that the stab wound from the previous time you were in The Lab healed fully.

The men tied me down to a examining table, awaiting for Sadiq's instruction. Not having enough energy to resist them, I laid there, exhausted and hopeless, awaiting the pain that’s about to come. Then, out of nowhere, men were shouting outside the Lab, followed by guns firing. Sadiq looked worried, terrified even and ran out of the room. Not so tough now huh.

Minutes later, the entire facility sat in a deafening silence. I started to realize why Sadiq was scared shitless. Something took out the entire facility within minutes. Strapped to the table, i was left defenseless. Unable to turn my head, I heard the door opening behind, followed by a dark shadow with... pointy ears? Was this a joke? A face loomed over, it was covered by a cowl. The man’s face was impossible to read. He then sunk a syringe into your neck as you slowly faded into oblivion.

Whispers were heard as you laid on what felt like a metal surface. “You can’t just bring someone like this into the cave Master Bruce. Especially not a criminal!”, a British sounding voice exclaimed. “She’s in need of immediate medical attention that even the best hospital in Gotham can’t provide,” a deeper, American sounding voice replied.  How was I a criminal?

They’re going to torture me again. Another one of Sadiq’s mind games. The man in the mask moved towards me, his face inches away.

“Why are you in Gotham,” he growled.

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I blatantly said.

“Let me ask you once more. Why. Are. You. In. Gotham.” The man in the mask repeated.

I remained silent. No point answering him anymore. He remained silent for a while, thinking.

“Do you remember fighting me?” He asked.

“No.” I answered.

“Do you remember fighting me for that thumbdrive?”

“Uhm no.” I hesitated. What on earth?

“She doesn’t remember a single thing from 6 months ago.” The man in the mask said to the older guy in a suit standing beside him, both seemed… vexed. Maybe I was really rescued.

The man then turnt to the machine and administered another substance into the IV drip. Before I could panic, I immediately felt the effect of the knockout drug, as waves of fatigue crashed over me, before I drifted back into nothingness.

I woke up to warm rays of sunlight on my face. Sunlight. Huh. It’s been forever since I’ve seen the sun. Last time I saw it… well, Sadiq almost executed me. Just one of his mind games.

“Good morning Miss.” The British guy walked in the room just as I was about stand up. I tensed up, my body on alert. I’m much stronger now, I can fight back. “You’re safe here. Don’t worry Miss…?”

“Jasmine. You can just call me Jasmine.” I managed to stutter out. That’s what I presume, my name I mean. Sadiq always calls me that. I never knew my name, I can’t even remember who were my parents.

“At your service Miss Jasmine. Oh, where are my manners. Alfred Pennyworth, at your service. If you need anything, ring the bell.” He gestured to your nightstand where a dainty-looking hand bell stood.

“Yes… Sure, thank you. May I ask where am I?” I probed. This sounded too good to be true.

“You’re staying in Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne’s ‘house’” He replied.

Who? Who the tell was that? I gave a puzzled look to him. I heard him mutter under his breath, “Oh dear Lord, this is even worse than what Master Bruce has made it to be.”

He cleared his throat, “Would you like a tour around the manor Miss Jasmine?”

With that, I was cooped up in this manor for 2 months, recuperating. Not that I’m complaining, it’s been the best days of my life. On the plus side, I was getting stronger everyday, getting smarter everyday. I eventually found out who Bruce Wayne was, billioniare ‘playboy’, secretly Batman. Funny how I knew Batman first before Bruce Wayne. But like all the Robins before me, I found hope again.

The first time I met Bruce  (a few days after I woke up in the manor),  I hugged him. I know, totally not the most awkward thing to ever do when you first meet the Batman.  Still, no regrets. “Thank you. For saving me.” I choked out. He smiled (HE ACTUALLY SMILED). And that was our first non-hostile exchange of information. He’s the sweetest person, although he doesn’t actually show it. He became a father figure to me after the 2 months.

As weeks passed, he started teaching me martial arts as I recovered. ‘To neutralize threats’ he would tell me, ‘is to take each and everyone of them down in the fastest way possible’ as he fucking flips me across the room.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m never becoming a Robin, Damien would murder me. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m not cut out for this shit. I’ve had countless sleepless nights, even with the knowledge I’m safe, I can never sleep properly without medication. It’s a problem, I know. Thus, I would conclude, everytime I had an internal argument on taking up Robin’s mantel, I would never get that lovely 8h of sleep if I were to become Robin.

Meanwhile, as I’m fantasizing about my plans to take Sadiq down with the new learnt moves Bruce has taught me, I walked around the house. Then one day, I saw a figure looming over a picture in the library. Fuck is that a ghost? I’ve always heard stories from Dick that the manor had tons of wandering spirits.

As I inspected closer, it was a man. Around 6’2, in a grey tactical suit with a red bat symbol. As he sensed someone’s prescence, his head suddenly turnt to my direction, staring right back at me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, getting ready to fight if there was a need.

He laughed, “What the fuck are you doing here? Alfred let me in don’t worry. “ He paused awhile and continued, “OH you’re the girl, Alfred’s talking about! You’re a clone or something right? Hi, I’m Jason Todd, former robin, now red hood.” He remarked.

“What th- First of all fuck you, I lost my memory I’m not a fucking clone. Second, name’s Jasmine, you shitfuck.” Shit was that too rude? FUCK.

Jason chuckled,”Woah, feisty. Nice to meet you Jasmine. Are you planning to fight Damien to overthrow him as Robin? Or are you going to take the Spoiler route?”

“Huh, definitely fighting Damien.” I joked.

Jason and I… We hit it off. It’s kinda like the dynamic I have with Dick, only much much more inappropriate. I talked all the way into the night as he drove you to what he termed “the most beautiful view in Gotham”.

“Woah.” I marveled at the city lights of Gotham city as both of us reached the rooftop of a rickety old brick building. “I gotta admit Jason, I had my doubts.”

“Never judge a book by its cover clonegirl.” He remarked.

“Fuck you.” I rolled my eyes.

Both our feet hung off the rooftop, sitting next to Jason’s childhood gargoyle, letting the stillness of the night fill the atmosphere. The view was amazing. 

However, as I looked down, cop cars raced off along the road. I was reminded of the crimes that people were committing during Gotham nights. Then one thought led to the other, I was in Sadiq’s Lab again, filled with fear. Agony. Pain. Fuck this wasn’t the first time I’m having these flashbacks, but every. Damn. Time. It feels the same.

“Jason, do you ever have flashbacks?” I broke the silence.

“Of wha- Oh. Yea. I have them. Not the best thing when it happens. Although it did make me zone out when I was tortured down in Qurac.Why?” He remarked.

“Huh, nice. I just don’t know what to do. You can’t stop the images from forming you know? It’s not… I can’t.” My brain was not working.

“Fuck, what happened Jasmine?”

“I was tortured too. By a man named Sadiq. For months, the pain I was put through was unbearable. But he just won’t let me die. Whenever I wake up, my wounds, even a punctured lung, stab wounds… They’ve all been healed.” I rambled, before I knew,  tears started streaming down my cheeks. “ Oh fuck. Sorry. You really don’t have to know that.”

“Hey hey, its going to be ok. You can cope with it. You’re here now right? Let’s start with that” Jason said, as he hugged be. Oh god. The warmth that radiates off him. I want this hug to last forever.

I sniffed, “I guess you’re right.”

I asked him all questions on coping with all these and he has been the best support. Don’t get me wrong here, Alfred and Bruce has helped me so much through these weeks of rehab but the emotional trauma… I don’t want to cast that burden on them, or anyone.

Jason and I, I realized, shares a lot of common things. We went through surprisingly similar experiences, similar tastes, humor…

“And that was how I knew I’ve done fucked up this time.” Jason concluded on his story on bringing a muddy raccoon back into the manor when he was 15. We were sitting shoulder to shoulder, sitting closer and closer together as our conversation and the night went on.

As we watched the sunrise, I rested my head on his shoulders. I felt him tense up. Ohhh shit, bad move Jasmine. He relaxed again as he let out a breath, resting his head on mine. Relief washed over me.

“We talked an entire day.” Jason cleared his throat as he got up from the ledge, “We should get some rest.” I guess he must’ve seen the disappointed look on my face. He then added,” You free tomorrow? Let’s go on a day trip to NYC.”

“Yea sure.” I chuckled. Is he leading me on? I don’t know.

As we arrived at the porch of the manor, we said our farewells.

“See you tomorrow, pick you up at 0800. Rest well doll.” He said, with the most mischievious looking smile ever.

“See you soon Jay.”

Thank you for 100 followers and for surviving this long ass read at my first shot at a fanfiction! I opted to go for 1st person instead of reader x Jason fic as I found it more challenging to write from that POV.This story also starts off on the first few issues of RHATO Rebirth. If i can, I’ll be following this series close to the current comics! :) Also, much much more fluff & action is planned out for this series! (I’ll keep on writing no matter) Already planned out a tie-in for #25 so hope yall would like it! Hope this concepts works out with logic haha. Any suggestions/tips for writing, pls comment! Much appreciated :) AND ALSO WHAT A TIME TO POST THIS YALL IMMA KICK START JASON TODD BIRTHDAY WEEK HERE WITH THIS STAY TUNED xoxo

#jason todd #jason peter todd #fanfic #fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc #rhato #rhato fanfic #fic #dc comics #jason todd dc #fluff #jason todd headcanon #red hood #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #jasonfvkingtodd #wolf

[namjoonchronicles]

distract | nj

▶ summary: There’s only one way to tame a raging fire. Namjoon knows just how to do it, effortlessly and sweetly.

“Because being blamed for something you didn’t do is exhausting! It’s draining, because you don’t know if you should pretend to take the fault so you could make some friends and be a socially-abiding employee when all you want to do is be free!” You let your bag fell flop at the side of the bed on the floor and, lashed out some more.

“...And if you’ve been with me long enough, you should know that I’m not the type to listen to anyone’s shit. It doesn’t matter who they are or what they are, if they’re lying through their claws, I won’t be smiling and telling them all the things they want to hear. And if you know me, you’ll understand that I will not be a tact sugar-coated liar who licks ass for a living.” You paced left and right by the window glass that looks out the balcony.

The curtains are left open and the neighboring buildings were the only thing that can be seen. Namjoon stood, leaning by the door with his arms crossed, observing, analyzing, listening and attempting to execute the best possible reply in this dangerous situation.

One wrong thing he says, will make this all a lot worser than it already is. 

So he chose to be quiet.

“This company is ridiculous. The co workers are oblivious and they’ve made a fool out of me during a department meeting. I didn’t misplace the drugs. I didn’t even touch a cytotoxic carrier. How could they say that I did it?” There’s defeat in your voice and it didn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon. He is after all the one that usually had to perk his ears up when moments like this comes.

Hands over your head, you turned to face Namjoon, with the bed standing between you and him and you exhaled, “I just need your hug.” A weak smile passed your lips, a small shrug on your shoulders and pleas in your eyes was all it takes for Namjoon to lunged over to you, and pulling you into a warm embrace that’s known to heal all the pain you’ve ever felt.

His sturdy chest against your forehead, and you could feel his arm around your shoulder, holding you as close as he could, while he plants a firm kiss on the top of your head. Your hand flew to his upper arm to keep it there, inhaling his heavenly cologne and taking the advantage of being this close to listen to his heartbeat.

When things go awry, Namjoon knows just how to cater to you. Even when at first, he was awkward in giving. He learnt a lot from you. Namjoon bares to you a side the world never knew existed. In exchange, you show him the side you’ve kept to yourself for so long. Together, you completed each other.

But it’s not all joyous ride together, with each other. There are side of Namjoon that you simply couldn’t comprehend— the workaholic side, the humility on things he should boast about, the perfectionist in him that rejects all mediocre and safe options simply because it isn’t risky enough; and there are sides of you that Namjoon find petty and unneeded—like your insecurities, your constant need of validation and turbulent mood swings that sometimes drove him beyond insane.

Namjoon’s intricated way of thinking fits your complicated thoughts in the most outstanding way. You both could talk for hours on the rooftop at midnight. Spilling your most intimate feelings about things going around you, identifying constellations in the night sky, soft murmurs of kind words that strangers will never hear from you; these conversations rarely reside on the surface—knowing Namjoon.

His poetic ways of putting words into a sentence and how they sound like nonsense to shallow minds was a way you two connected. His passive-aggressiveness met your sarcastic remarks, to equate a disastrously perfect couple. Namjoon and you were a imperfectly perfect equation that mathematicians hadn’t figured out yet.

Namjoon puts a distance between you both and you whined at the sudden loss of warmth to which he giggled low in return. With his dimply smile, he slide his hand down your arm and filled the gaps between your fingers with his before guiding you out of the room and into his studio.

The door labelled: Mon Studio, Sound Engineer; on the outside.

He pushed you down to sit in his seat while he stays standing up behind the chair. “What...why?” Your thoughts are scrambled as you watch him dart his hand out from each side of you, clicking on the mouse rapidly as he tries to search for a file you didn’t know off. “Hold on a minute okay, babe.” He trailed his voice as his eyeballs starts to fidget on every corner of the heavily crowded desktop full of track icons.

“Wow your desktop is very organized.” You threw a sarcastic remark and he chuckled short, “...Haven’t got the time to sort them out properly. Been busy at night, you see.” He tutted his tongue, suggestively, before biting his lips. “Oh really...?” That is a judgemental statement disguised in a form of question, from you to him.

He shrugs a bit and the chair rocked as he passed, “Yeah, my wife can’t keep her hands off of me. But can you blame her?” You snapped your head around at him, digging your against your cheek while trying to come up with a good clap back but Namjoon tipped his chin at the screen so that your attentions falls to it instead of him.

“You sir, have a very distracting face.” You heard your own voice in the video he played on his desktop for you to watch. You remembered this video. It was taken in Ilsan, on your first Chuseok together with his family. The camera focuses on him and his deadly fashion style. He had a Ray Ban glass on, with a red beanie.

“Is it me or is this coloring is just off?” You were not well-versed in using video cameras especially the modern ones so you tend to ask Namjoon everything about it since he reads the manuals. Namjoon appeared to be walking towards you and together, you both were figuring out how to use the video cameras. Before it falls to the ground, of course. The camera was still recording although it cuts off for about 0.8 seconds due to the fall. Namjoon is heard to be rather flustered, “It’s just slipped out of my hand...!”

And you calmed him down with an assurance, “Look it’s not the end of the world okay? It’s fine. It’s okay. We can still use our good ol’ phone to film stuff and it will be just as fantastic.” The screen flashes black before turning into a scene at a beach. Namjoon looks younger here. Of course he does, it was taken in 2010, he was 16.

As indicated by the dates below.

The video focuses on him, grainy and low quality but still, Namjoon looked stunning. “I can never get over how beautiful you are.” You commented, sounding like you’re in-trance. Younger Namjoon looks very innocent, and he was just filming his feet walking by the sandy beach, the sound of waves hitting the shore was the only thing you hear.

“This is at the height of the porn watching thing, right?” You shot and Namjoon covered his eyes, smiling shyly. “Can’t you just watch without making anything funny?” He gushes and you took the chance to annoy him some more. “You’re making me a pervert for watching a 16 year old you, are you trying to send me to jail? Jail bait.” You darted. Namjoon shakes his head cutely and grinned at the screen.

“I’m going to take my wife here.” Sixteen year-old Namjoon sounded determined. “I want her to enjoy the sound of the waves and the breeze...” Video-Namjoon added and you snarkly say, “We did more than just enjoy the sound of waves and breeze when we were there, Little Namjoon.”

Namjoon slammed the pause button and you exclaimed, “But why!”

“I’m not going to play this video if you keep being like this, stand up.” He said, biting his smile and you did as he told. He sat on the chair and gathered your waist so you sat on him. “You need to shush and appreciate this video,” Namjoon leaned his chin on your shoulder and you pressed the space bar so that the video resumed.

“That night on the beach was fun.” You added quickly and Namjoon pressed his forehead on your shoulder now, vibrating in place to hide his chuckle. “Can we be PG13 at least for the rest of four minutes, please?” He darted his eyes on your side profile and you glanced at him, “We are Rated R baby, you know that.”

“Okay. Can we pretend that we are PG13?” “For three minutes? Yeah.”

Namjoon’s video showed you sleeping on the bed next to him. Bare shoulders and he plants a kiss on them before sliding out of bed. “PG13 my ass.” You shot and Namjoon pressed his lips together, “Sweetie, look here!”

“No!” “Why not?” “Because I have a zit on my face.”

Then the video switches to all the vacations you both went together on. The part where Namjoon went to Rome. When he broke the pan holder. How he snapped the chair into half. And you’ll be behind the video camera laughing your head off. “All I did is hold them.” He sounded sorry.

“Oh honey, don’t worry about that.” You would say. The screen goes black and to present-Namjoon who is in a black turtleneck with ash grey hair-do, fixing the camera to focus. “Hey baby...” he greeted, exclaiming. “You just left for work after a strenuous midnight workout and I’m making this video to thank you for it.”

You had to clamp your teeth down your lower lips to stop the smile from getting wider than it already is. “So if you remember, you had a pretty bad day yesterday and you took it out on me...” Namjoon pulled down his turtleneck and showed an angry red kiss mark, “But I’m not here to complaint. I’m here to do anything but that. I’m here to say to you that if you ever have a bad moment in life, I’m at your disposal.”

Namjoon inhales deeply, “Everytime you say you had a bad day, which usually began by how badly people treated you; I just want you to know that it doesn’t make you a bad person to feel angry about it. I also want you to know that if it ever come across your head that you’re horrible person; which you aren’t by the way, I want you to rewind to the beginning of this video where you assured me that eventhough I’m clumsy and a hopeless King of Destruction, you always make me feel better about myself.”

You absent-mindedly went, “Aww.”

“When I accidentally break things, I get very upset. Because it makes people think that I’m in capable of taking care of things. I see their faces when they were about to hand me some objects. I understand their fear of me destructing it, but at the end of the day, I’m human and I have feelings.” Namjoon sighed. You took his hand into yours and patted them gently. “You make the darkness less dark, you make the edges less sharp. You make the winter feel warmer, you make my weakness less weak. You make the bottom less deep. You make my crazy feel normal.”

You are the who. Love is the what. And this is the why.

Namjoon’s video ended with you and Namjoon on a hammock together, enjoying the breeze on a tropical country beach with coconut in hand. “Baby, who do you belong to?” Namjoon asked you while the camera showing his face and yours. He was laying his head on your stomach.

“An idiot.” You shot.

Namjoon’s smile is gone in a second before him replying with a wide grin at the camera, showing all his teeth, “But I am your idiot...” shows the wedding ring to the camera, “Foreverrrrrrrrrrrr.”

You were dying of embarrassment, behind him. He vowed to embarrass you and you vowed to annoy him; for the rest of your lives. 

Turning over your shoulder, to face him, you link your forehead to his and smiled, “...Why are you so distracting.” Namjoon inhales and whispered, “...I made the video to keep your mind off of negative things, is it working?”

Yes it is.

#bts #bangtan boys #bts fic #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #kpop #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #namjoon x oc #namjoon x you #namjoon ff #namjoon imagines #namjoon fanfic #bts writer #armiesnet #bts rm #bts rapmon #BANGTANNET

[taekwonduh]

→ untitled vampire!au

Tags: Namjoon, angst, olden day au, PG

“You swore to father you would protect me, yet here we are, halfway ‘cross the damned country as you deliver me to the Capital that got him killed in the first place.”

“Well if you ask me-”

“-Better to someone we know than to a creepy old Lord on the other end of River Maisely.”

“There you go.”

Namjoon was a man that could not be out-talked, thus the headache that was slowly beginning to throb in crescendo at the back of your head while you tried to reason with him was warranted and expected. Or perhaps it was just the heatwave kicking in as your entourage of horses, carriages, carts and footmen pursue your third day of journey through the Drylands, an expanse of abandoned land that laid between the Capital and the rest of the nation. 

Sparse of words, you had made sure to announce your defeated frustration with a huff from your cracked lips, and your body angled away from the stiff authority that sat straight-spined, leveled-chin, fists-to-knees, opposite of you, the authority that you called brother. Namjoon made no comment of your otherwise characteristically petty response, one which you have unfailingly, for the past seventeen years of life, delivered when you yet again lose an argument to the boy that was your senior in every aspect you could think of. 

Determined to navigate away from the dreadful topic and even more dreadful destination that loomed ahead of your party, you had raised a tentative yet curious hand to the thick velvet drapes that hung protectively over the carriage windows, drawn shut for the entirety of your occupation in the suffocating, claustrophobia-inducing wooden box on wheels. 

The moment your fingertips had come into contact with the smooth, furry fabric, your brother’s voice had sounded, knowing and warning, “Don’t.” To this you were normally obedient of, particularly during the fragile months following the loss of a parent and a half, but call it the stormy adolescence of a flowering vampiric beauty, your brother’s warning went unheeded, and the drapes were drawn. 

There had been no deafening shriek, your skin did not burn, neither of you turned to ash. There was only gentle warmth upon cold, snow-like skin, a mild-temperatured breeze (much cooler than the stuffiness within) drifting past the small cut-out from which you were currently looking out. 

“That’s enough now, they are our men but the scent of a Pureblood tempts all men the same, especially when they are worn from travel.”

You had allowed for your arm to drop, and the drapes swung back into place. You turned back to look at him. “So let them rest. Dusk is upon us, they’ve been on the move for days.”

“We cannot afford to stop now. We are in the Drylands, we will not be able to fend off an attack by savages in their own territory. We will keep moving until we’ve reached Capital outskirts, then I will let them rest for two moons.”

It was a tendency of all younger sisters to retort their brothers, but you knew well enough that Namjoon was right. The Drylands was twice the size of the Capital, home only to creatures who have spent decades building skills and tolerance against the harsh elements of this desert. Nobles from all corners foreign to the territory would stand no chance if left unprepared.

Of the many unspeakable species that call the Drylands their home, Rabids were the most notorious. Far lower than the sinful product of a Pureblood Vampire and Human, Rabids were the final destination once Halfbloods completed their inevitable degradation, and they would suck the life out of anything remotely living, be it animal, man, or the Vampire they once were. The carcasses, completely dry of blood, left scattered throughout the plains was how the territory earned its’ name. 

Void of sanity and moral, Rabids were those who had fallen out of Vampiric rank, pests of the Council and predators of those who could not afford to build hundred-foot walls on the perimeters of their homes. The primary source of unrest and terror to the people, torching Rabids were the only way to properly exterminating them, so the Council had set fire to the area housing the highest concentration of Rabid-incited killings, thus the Drylands have and will continue to expand as the centuries go by.

“I still cannot believe you are sending me away.”

“The prince is shallow, simple-minded, predictable, and therefore controllable. It is much safer for you there than in the castle of some foreign Lord you have never even met. The prince you have at least seen before!”

“Yes, once.” Upon noticing the attitude that began to slip under your tone, the man diagonal to you had angled his chin down, and cat-like, amber eyes up in intolerance, as well as palpable condescension with just expression alone. But you forthrightly pushed forward with your argument, for you knew there was nothing else you could do but pitifully protest once a man like your brother had finalized his calculations. He was always more like father than you were. “Do you not remember what happened the last time we visited the Lunar Palace? He quite nearly executed a handmaiden for accidentally stepping on my dress- on his own inaugural!”

“Alright.” Along with the release of a breath that he might have been holding from the time you departed from your castle six days ago, Namjoon had broken out of his stiff posture, back hunching and shoulders deflating, arms folded loosely across his broad chest. “His decisions are not always the wisest or most merciful, but one thing is for sure and that is he will be the last person to ever hurt you.”

“How do you know that?”

“The prince likes pretty things, and rumours of your beauty have spread far beyond the Drylands.”

“Flattery is not going to change my position on this matter, if my position even means anything at all to you. He’s a tyrant, Namjoon, you’re marrying me to a maniac who gets off beheading anyone who dares drop an opinion atop his!”

When your sweet, tangerine hued eyes, bearing dead resemblance to your mother’s was raised to meet his, your brother only shifted his position so that he was now sitting directly across you instead of diagonal, his longer, thicker and sturdier legs meeting your own daintier, but not any less-travelled, ones at the tips of bent knees in the cramped confines of your carriage. In mulled silence, he took your fists, previously clenched agitatedly at your sides, into his broad and warm palms, clasping your ivory-skinned hands tight within his own.

“See? You already know what not to do around him. You are a smart girl, my sister, you will know how to protect yourself in the palace. I have my eyes in there too, I will not allow for any harm to come to you whilst you are there. And… if it comforts you any, at least the prince is young and handsome.”

“I don’t care for any of that.” Your voice had grown soft, inevitable when you were borderline terrified of the events that laid ahead of you once you have arrived at the Capital. “If father were here, he’d never let this happen.”

Your brother’s grasp sharply tightened, startling you enough for him to at least curb his voice into a gentler chide at last minute, all the while remaining darkly firm and reminding of the lack of presence of your valued guiding figure when he spoke his next words: “Well father’s not here.”

You had always strove to avoid bringing your father into any matter since his passing, out of pride that you did not want to be the one dragging your brother on a guilt trip when he was so young when the title as head of the family was thrust upon his shoulders and yet had still managed to wear it like a champion. But just as unprepared as he was in the beginning, you were, after all, a girl who grew up knowing only the warmth of her father’s cloak. 

“… We are the only ones left, we have to look out for each other. I only want the best for you, just as father has.”

“But I will miss you very much.”

In response to your affection, Namjoon had allowed for the first smile since you had left behind the familiar comfort of your home to smooth out the worried creases in his forehead, to even out the pinch between his brows. Now much more tender, more brotherly than leaderly, he said, “You may cry on the first night. But no more after that. Daughters of the South are as strong as sons, you must never forget that.”

#btstwriters #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts vampire!au #namjoon #jaeworks #dr;knj #jdrabbles

[walkerbaby-blog]

Trying to Plan What I’m Writing/Plotting Next

Ok for those of you who don’t know I tend to overplot the fuck out of novels/stories/everything. Seriously, All Things Will Kill You has 60 pages of notes and 80 pages of detailed scene break downs. Right Hand of the Father? 75 pages in total of plot/scene break down. So I tend to start plotting long before I start writing. And that’s where my problem is now. 

The Candidate’s Omega Arrangement should be finished being written by the end of January. 

The Washington Pamphlet is ready to write and should be done by the beginning/middle of March. 

But I have no idea what to start plotting next. And when I say “no idea” it’s more like I have 6 ideas (1 of which is a series) and I have no idea which one to do first.  

So here’s the plan. I’m going to put down a brief synopsis of each and you can let me know which you want to read more. 

The One With the Boy Next Door Trope: Alexander is a Jr. College Creative Writing instructor who’s one claim to fame is the novel he wrote 5 years ago that sat on the NYTimes bestseller list for 12 weeks, got optioned for a film that never got made and then never wrote that second book (he’s gonna, really). George is the accountant next door who is secretly madly in love with Alex and constantly comes home from work to find him camped out on George’s couch eating his ice cream (that he only buys for Alexander anyway). But when Alexander’s ex-boyfriend shows back up in the picture can George handle watching the man he loves fall back in with someone who doesn’t truly care for him like he deserves? And what does Alexander do when George finally decides to walk away and find someone willing to accept all that he’s got to offer? 

The One Where Alexander is George’s Personal Assistant: you all know how this one goes. Alexander is the personal assistant George is the boss desperately trying to convince himself that banging Alexander would be a not good thing for the company. Because George? He thinks work and play don’t mix. Which doesn’t keep him from banging Alexander when the temptation becomes too much.

The One Where Alexander Sells Himself into a Long Term Boyfriend Experience/BDSM (yes I am fully aware that SSC means not selling yourself as a modern sex slave to a dom): George is an executive that doesn’t trust others. That’s why he’s developed an arrangement with a local club that will let him “rent” a sub for a specified amount of time. Alexander is broke and needs money for law school and bartending at a BDSM club? It’s not paying all the bills much less letting him save. But if he can land one 90 day contract? That would pay for a year. If he can convince his new dom to keep him for a year? That’ll pay for everything. 

The One that’s a Timeslip Historical with Witches: Alexander Hamilton has done his best to try and forget those years. Tried to forget the years of the American Revolution. The people who died in battle. The ones who got older while he never changed. He lives quietly. He writes columns and books and poetry. He even tried his hand at music once (don’t ask it was a nightmare). Every few years he moves. But now he’s back in New York City and wouldn’t you know it -- they’ve decided to put up another memorial to George. This one right in the park across from his apartment. Right where he can see it when he looks out his bedroom window. And now he can’t forget. Can’t forget the man who rode into the glen where they were hiding -- trying to stay underground during the war so neither side could find them. Can’t forget their time together. Can’t forget how George is the only person who ever saw him for what he was and loved him anyway.  (Big Sweeping Historical Epic)

The One With Angelica and Alexander: After being rejected by George Washington Alexander found himself at the Schuyler’s ball and suddenly power is right there in front of him. All in one beautiful taffeta clad form. Angelica Schuyler. A woman who looks at him and sees everythign he’s not. He begins to court her sister with an eye on Angelica the entire time and soon, soon he’s worn away her defenses and she’s his. Until the morning she leaves him asleep in the stables and elopes with John Barker Church instead and Alexander? Alexander decides the influence of one Schuyler sister is as good as another and marries Eliza. Yet neither of them ever find their attraction lessening and each meeting just makes their separation harder. (Big Sweeping Historical Epic)

The Series That’s Set in  a College: Story 1 -- Alexander is a new professor who realizes that the hot, older bartender he had a one night stand with the week before? Turns out he’s sitting front row of Alexander’s Introduction to American Government Class. Story 2 -- James Monroe can’t stand his office mate Thomas Jefferson. He’s loud, he’s messy. He’s disorganized. He leaves mac and cheese containers everywhere. But when one of their fights leads to him kissing Thomas (just to shut him up) these two have to figure out just what the hell is going on between them. Story 3 -- John Laurens has been in love with his now former roommate Alexander Hamilton since they met. Alexander is in love with (and now moving in with) George Washington. Lafayette didn’t need a roommate really but it was nice to have someone else around to feed his cat. Which doesn’t explain exactly how they ended up going from arguing about which Star Wars movie is the best to blowing each other on the couch. 

 Ok guys so help me out. These are the choices. What should I start plotting next? 

#amwriting #amplotting #fanfic

[cass-chan12]

Felony of the Heart (Ch 9)

Fandom: Fairy Tail Genre: Romance and Friendship Pairing: Main- NaLu. Sides- Gajevy, Gruvia and Jerza

Summary: What would you do if you were forced into a school that deals with Delinquents and young adults that have committed felonies? Lucy Heartfilia would rather chance it than going back home to being married off. What lies ahead for the blonde is unknown but she’s convinced she can make it through with him by her side

Chapter Eight

How would your life be different if… you stopped making negative judgmental assumptions about people you encounter? Let today be the day… you look for the good in everyone you meet and respect their journey.

- Steve Maraboli

I woke up the next morning and I feel like I hadn't slept so well in the time that I've arrived here. My sleep was serene and dreamless or rather nightmare-less and that in itself reassuring of my mental well-being at the given moment, especially after the trauma of yesterday's dilemma.

It felt like everything that had happened yesterday was a blur or a haze and only some moments felt crystal clear. The blurry bits I could definitely say happened during my fathers and Hades conversation I had eavesdropped on. And the crystal clear parts would be Natsu's comforting words and reassurance.

How so much has changed in these few months and how incredibly ridiculous the situation I'm in is. Honestly, what teenager would go through all this? What kind of parent, such as mine, would do this to their own child?

Bitterness arose inside my body and I had to shake it off before sullenness would wash over me again.

I just wanted to continue with the day and see everyone's faces. That is usually what keeps me smiling for the day.

I quickly dress into my uniform and make my bed so I can have enough time to eat breakfast before assembly. Goodness knows what Hades might announce today… Maybe he'll hand everyone a rock before entering and initiate my public execution.

Even though it was a joke I shivered by the thought.

Once I got to the mess hall I spotted a few of group members already eating.

Gray was having a light conversation with Erza and Juvia which made me feel like he's accepting Juvia little by little. She seemed a lot happier finally having company around her, other than us I'm not sure who she used to hang with… Maybe that Gajeel guy? They were accomplices in their felon…

I set my breakfast on the table and grabbed the attention of the rest.

"Good morning Lucy" Erza greeted.

Juvia scooted towards Gray without him noticing and winked at me. I wanted to laugh aloud but stifled it when I sat down and proceeded to eat.

I saw in the distance Levy in line for food and Gajeel was in front of her. He towered over her in fact, but to be fair Levy was very tiny to begin with.

My eyes stuck to Gajeel whose eyes would try to focus on the line moving in front of him but kept trying to dart to Levy behind him.

It's odd that I notice these things now that I have lived here for a while, my observation skills have heightened beyond my expectations.

Levy made her way to the table and sat across from me and I couldn't help a little smirk form on my lips

"What is it Lu-chan?" Levy asked me. She really is an innocent unobservant girl which is surprising since she is a tech genius.

"Oh nothing just noticed something interesting" I said conspicuously.

"If you are referring to the former metal face trying to watch Levy here, I think most people noticed" Natsu's voice appeared while approaching the table.

I turn to look at Natsu and my heart felt like it was calm yet soaring. Even though his sarcasm did make me roll my eyes time to time, I just smiled at his boyish charm. I honestly think of a time I was like before he came into my life, considering he is my biggest confidant in the world at the moment.

I snap out of my thoughts and focus on Levy's face after Natsu's comment. As I expected Levy looked embarrassed.

"Look I'm not sure what to make out of him. He looks really scary at times and yet when we pass each other or share the same classes together he is really quiet and wary."

Natsu, who was now sitting next to me, raised his eyebrow and looked toward Gajeel with a harsh look. I followed his gaze and Gajeel was sitting alone at a table close to the exit. I noticed when Gajeel looked up, he too gave an intense stare back but then left agitated by the sound of the door being yanked and slammed closed.

Then a thought occurred to me "Hey didn't you say you know him?" I asked

The rest of the table heard my question and all went silent until Gray piped up "You know that metal hazard?"

Juvia slapped him slightly on the arm which she was glued on "Hey Gajeel-kun is Juvia's friend, don't be harsh Gray-sama."

Gray rolled his eyes and retorted "Oh Yeah so why aren't you with him and not us?"

I wasn't sure to take that comment out of jealously or annoyance…

"Gajeel-kun told me to leave him alone… Juvia has tried to be with Gajeel-kun since we arrived but Gajeel-kun would push Juvia away."

I had to follow really hard at Juvia's third person speaking but it sounded like she was hurt losing her friend. After all they did commit the felony together so they must have been close friends before.

We turn our attention back to Natsu and Erza was getting impatient "Well spill it" she intimidated.

Natsu shifted his eyes to look away from the rest of the table but focused on looking at me. I felt my cheeks warm but then realised Natsu doesn't like talking about is past hence why he was looking at me to muster the memories. After last night he must feel a little easier around me than the rest.

I nodded slightly so no one would notice but him. He returned a smile and looked to the rest trying to look like nothing is wrong.

"Gajeel and I were childhood friends"

We all stared in awe.

"'Were' guys, we were. Our dads used to be big buddies before either of us entered into the picture. Gajeel's dad then died when we were ten and Gajeel got sent to an orphanage in Oak Town."

"That's when Juvia met Gajeel-kun at Phantom Lord Orphanage." Juvia confirmed.

"I honestly haven't been close to the guy since he left and Igneel and I had talked about letting him stay with us but we already were just getting by just with the two of us." Natsu scratched his neck awkwardly.

I understood why it was awkward- One: Mentioning his father. Two: knowing that he let a friend down and Three: He wants to fix it but doesn't know how. Not to mention the first time they really got to speak to each other, I assume, was when they were yelling at each other and ready to fight over Gajeel's discourtesy to me in the school hallway months ago. Natsu, I'm sure, has never had to put in effort to make friends but if he doesn't look like the type that can easily make up with them after they've fought or fallen out of friendship.

"So our hopes pf getting him in the group is against our favour at this point. He has disregarded that he ever was friends with Natsu and has distanced himself from Juvia…" Erza said thinking out loud.

"If it helps I can try talk to him during confessionals" little Wendy tried to contribute.

Her sincerity made the table smile which motivated Levy to pitch an idea "He sometimes talks to me in Rustyrose-sensei's class when he leaves to fix his hair so I can contribute too."

"And we can tease him relentlessly in P.E." Gray referred to himself and Erza with the way he shrugged a thumb in the red head's direction.

"And… Juvia won't stop trying" Juvia said with a hopeful smile.

"He'll be a tough nut to crack but if we show we're making an effort maybe he'll come around." I say optimistically.

Natsu smiled at me fondly and looked to the rest of us with confidence in his eyes.

"So team. Our goal may be growth for now but let's not forget what Nakama really means. Watch each other's backs and make it damn hard for this school to break us."

We all nodded our heads in agreement.

Nakama…

That word always did have a remarkable amount of warmth to it.

Assembly went on as normal but there was a shift in the air I couldn't quite place. All the teachers seemed to be on edge and Hades still looked scary as ever but he seemed off himself. After Azuma-sensei went over the routine disciplinary reminders he dismissed us to go start our school day.

I only realised till I reached the school building steps that I forgot my homework by my bed back at the dorms. I still I had time so I made a quick dash to the girls' dorm.

Before you reach the girls dorm was the boys dorm and normally we girls would have to take a long way around so not to get into trouble. But I would get into trouble if I didn't get to class on time so I took the short cut that entailed me going around the building itself. It was risky but I'm sure most of the teachers and students were by the school building at this point.

Before I went around the corner someone grabbed my arm quickly and yanked me back. I was about to yelp until a hand flew over my mouth.

Oh my Hell did I get caught?!

I looked to the person responsible and it was Levy! Where on earth did she appear from?!

She motioned a 'hush' gesture over her mouth to tell me to be quiet. She removed her hand and shuffled her small body closer to the corner but keeping her ear pointed, listening intently. I raised my brow at her and was about to step forward to her but she softly nudged me to the wall.

"I understand your concern José but the state sent the boy here so I'm afraid that I will have to give you a hard no to your offer." A familiar voice spoke around the corner.

"Hades Surely you are not turning your back on an old friend?" another voice appeared, sneering at who I can guess is Principal Hades.

I looked to Levy in a panic and hers too back at mine but gave me a pleading look to carrying on listening with her.

"I may be an old friend but let me be perfectly blunt- I have no intention of releasing Gajeel Redfox out so you can do your dirty work again. I don't particularly care what you do honestly but the boy is under my biding. Are we clear?" Hades said monotony as he usually did.

"Oh since have we cared about being Law-abiding Hades?" José scoffed.

"My Empire here stands on my 'clean' reputation. If I release that boy and he gets caught doing your shady work, it is I who will lose everything. So perhaps use another orphan to rough up your dirty debt riddled clients."

My fingers twitched.

Clean reputation he said? I can't think of that man being anything but that. But being in the spotlight for a majority of the time means he must do his own dirty work in the shadows. Business with my father surely is one of them.

"Gajeel owes me his life. I am his foster father so I can pull him out of your clutches Hades." José threatened.

"Not without the proper paper work from the counsel you can't. Now if you don't mind I have to work and you have to leave unless you would like to be escorted out?" Hade's warned.

The sound of Hade's footsteps walked off and José stood where Hades left him. I didn't know what the man looked like but his voice sure sounded slimly and vile. José huffed loudly and stomped away bringing out his phone to shout his frustrations at.

Levy and I huffed in relief and looked to each other with concern. She was probably thinking what I was.

Gajeel Redfox just got a whole lot more interesting.

I couldn't shake my thoughts for the remainder of the morning.

Gajeel was José's muscle for shady business…

I never thought I would have to say 'shady business' and be serious about it. But there was no real title for it. And once more is that Gajeel wasn't in here for that reason, no he was here for the same thing him and Juvia did together which was vandalism. Did Juvia know he was doing that kind of work for José? If she did there hadn't been a time to openly speak about it. She treated Gajeel as a friend so he can't be that bad… maybe?

I wonder how Levy is taking this information since she has showed more interest in the scary teen. From what I learnt so far being here is that there is good in some people and the ones we have befriended have not proven us wrong yet so maybe Gajeel would be the same.

I needed to tell Natsu when I see him but I don't know how to phrase this all together.

While in Azuma-sensei's science class there was some commotion outside which said teacher was trying to ignore but put down his book in frustration.

Before he could step towards the door it burst open revealing José and Ultear right behind him yelling at him.

"For the last time get out of here before we escort you out José!" Ultear growled.

Gray and Levy who were in my class look at me in confusion and I just shrugged at them.

"And I told you that I'm here to collect someone" he barked back at her.

Azuma sighed in frustration "And Hades already told you that you can't take Gajeel Redfox."

Gajeel, who was also in the class and was two seats in front of me, tensed on cue. This wasn't going to end well…

"I'm not here for him; I'm here for Lucy Heartfilia."

…What?

I stared at the man whose voice I heard earlier and now finally looking at properly. (P.S. He looked as Slimy as he sounded)

Why was he here for me?

Ultear jumped in front of his face again before he and I could make eye contact.

"And what makes you think you can take her? Her father put her here for us to watch over, you baboon." She said in a more level headed manner but still insulting him nonetheless.

"And what if, Miss Ultear, her father handed her over to me for disciplinary reasons?"

I just stared at what was going down in front of me… did my father really give up on his plan with Hade's? Sure they didn't sound so chummy over the phone but still… I honestly don't know how to feel at the moment. I… just overheard him earlier saying he wants Gajeel! Why… why am I being targeted?

Ultear looked at him thrown off and confused "Can you prove it?" she challenged.

José pulled out his smartphone and clicked on a document which he presented to Ultear with a cocky grin.

Her forehead furrowed while reading and turned to Azuma "It looks official… but-"

"But nothing, like you said, it's an official document." José yanked his phone back.

His sauntered off to my desk and yanked me up by the arm. I yelped in pain which earned a shout from behind me.

"Oi! You can't just waltz in here and take her!" Gray growled.

José just laughed at his face "You got some guts yelling in a classroom with your parole officers standing right there boy. Additionally you have no say, so be a good boy and sit back down."

Ultear glared at José and looked to Gray "Mr Fullbuster quietly take your seat, this is your only warning."

Gray looked hurt when Ultear icily dismissed him in her normal cold manner. My mind momentarily wondered again if they knew each other before he arrived. Was I being paranoid? My quick side thought crashed to a halt when I was yanked off towards the door.

I pulled back as much as I could to create a struggle which irritated the man. I was desperate to be honest and did the only thing I could think of…

I kicked him…

I kicked him somewhere I shouldn't have kicked him…

He dropped like a fly

It was so quiet in the classroom until a roar of laughter followed.

I stood there frozen amongst the laughter and I felt a feminine hand wrap around my wrist.

"I think it would be wise if we go to Hades' office and sort this out. A punishment should be in order too, Miss Heartfilia" Ultear spoke trying to hide a smile and darting her eyes to the fallen man holding on to what he could.

Azuma looked to the laughing class and they immediately stopped out of the daunting look he gave them, he didn't look amused and opened up his book again to carrying on with the class as if nothing happened here.

Ultear walked me around José who was trying to compose himself and cockily said "We'll see you in Hades Office."

I looked helplessly at Gray and Levy as I was leaving but caught the sight of someone else. Gajeel looked in pain and slight fear or some reason and was twitching to move.

'One mystery at a time' I thought to myself.

Though, out of all this commotion I just wanted to see one person for comfort.

But I might possibly never see him again.

#nalu #felony of the heart #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #nalu fanfiction