#except maybe merlin himself

[theroundbartable]

I love that we collectively decided that Merlin's nickname is Merls.

Like, how would that even happen? I doubt Arthur calls him that. Arthur calls him Merlin like he calls Gwen Guinevere.

So, I'm thinking like, what if Arthur overheard Gwaine say Merls (of course it's Gwaine) and hears Merlin giggle adorably at it. So he thinks 'maybe I should try that too.'

There is an awkward phase when Arthur just - can't say it. He stops saying Merlins name entirely for a couple days only, except for when he has to call him from afar and there he has to use the full name because he's too embarrassed to use something so fond in public.

So, one day, they are just in Arthur's room and Arthur hypes himself up like, NOW!: "Could you go and ask Geoffrey for that book I asked him for yesterday? Thanks, Merls."

Merlin freezes.

Arthur is sporting a slight flush but doesn't acknowledge it.

Merlin stares at him. "What did you just call me?" He doesn't giggle or flush like he did with Gwaine.

Arthur panics. "Is that not what they call you now? I thought it was a thing now." Which it was. It caught on.

Merlin glares at him. "Har har, very funny. You don't have to be so rude about it!" And then he stomps off, leaving Arthur completely irritated behind.

...

Several days later, Arthur has talked to Guinevere, to the cook, to servants and overheard Gwaine calling Merlin Merls again.

Arthur is frustrated, so he gives up. "What's wrong with you?"

Merlin doesn't look at him. "Nothings wrong."

"you're mad at me! Why? Because I called you Merls? Everyone calls you that, GWAINE gets to call you that!"

"yeah, but you're not everyone!"

"why, because I'm your boss? I know we can't really be friends but I thought -" Arthur bites his lip.

Oh.

That's what this was about, wasn't it? That he was Merlin's boss and they weren't friends and nothing could change-

"Of course we're friends, you dollophead. You're the only one who thinks we're not." Merlin suddenly softens. "You weren't making fun of me, were you? Were you attempting to get closer to me? Act more like a friend? With a nickname?"

Arthur sputters. "Don't be stupid, Merlin-"

"There. That's it." Merlin grins. "THATs what you call me, Arthur. No one says my name quite like that. So don't try to be something you're not. It's honestly unnerving."

Arthur flushes a little: "and why were you blushing when Gwaine calls you that?"

"That's because -" Arthur realizes too late that he'd just given himself away. But apart from an elevated heartbeat, he can't really regret it. Merlin's face has gone tomato red.

[livinginshambles]

I'll reschedule | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: James faces the consequences of his actions. A confrontation goes wrong and you have a chat with Sirius.

Notes: Thank you guys for your kind comments! I hope I tagged everyone that wanted to be tagged. Also the parent part is very self-indulgent lmao

Part one Masterlist

________________

James spent the following days trying to get your attention and receiving a taste of his own medicine.

You gave him another smile that didn’t fully reach your eyes and he cursed at himself for somehow having your relationship feel so distant and awkward. He was your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake!

“I can’t, I’m-“

“-sorry, yeah. I know.” James almost let out a pained laugh at the irony of the situation.

‘Oh how the tables have turned,’ James bitterly thought to himself in defeat. You leaned forward as if you were going to give him a kiss, his heart jumping at the thought.

He realised in horror that he couldn’t recall the last time he had given you a proper kiss on the lips and could do nothing but watch in disappointment as you changed your mind mid-step and left for whatever it was that you had planned, with nothing but a small wave.

James spent the next day in class stealing glances at you. You noticed it of course, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back, humiliation at his words still lingering in the back of your mind. ‘Why are feelings so complicated’, you groaned in dismay.

You sighed and buried your face in your hands, arms propped up by your elbow on your desk. You’d talk to him tomorrow. Tomorrow was the last day before Christmas holidays. If everything went south, you’d be able to escape for two weeks. Not that you needed that back up plan. Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was not fine.

“You were eavesdropping on us?!” James shouted out, an offended look on his face and his hands thrown in the air. You visible winced at his loud voice.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that of all the things you said, what you finally confessed about your feelings, that that’s what he picked up on.

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Your mouth open while you tried to look for words.

“You’re really going to- you know what? Yes. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping alright? In fact, I too would’ve preferred not to have heard you guys say those horrible things, but I did hear it all, and you did say all that,” you shot back angrily.

“But if you wanted me to back off and be less of a clingy, high maintenance attention demanding loner, then maybe, just maybe,” you stressed the word maybe. “You could’ve pulled me aside and told me you were embarrassed of me in private, instead of telling all your friends except for me! That’s not how a relationship works, that’s cowardice.”

“Oh so you’re an expert on relationships now?” He scoffed. “How would you know how relationships are supposed to work, I’m the first bloody friend and boyfriend you’ve ever had! If not for me, you would have no one.” He spat out the last sentence and as soon as it left his mouth, he clamped his mouth shut and took two steps back in disbelief at his own words. Regret immediately setting in.

Your face was heating up, in embarrassment and anger. You took a few steps back in shock as well. You wanted to yell at him, tell him that you’d become friends with your potions partner recently, that he wouldn’t know that, because he’d been acting like an arse with his head stuck up in it, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to fight. You took a deep breath.

‘Count to ten, Y/N.’

James opened his mouth and closed it again, no words coming out, still shocked at himself. He felt like he was in a daze, that this was a bad dream.

The silence was too much, the tension too high. He half expected you to reach out and slap him across the face, but also knew you wouldn’t. So instead he stood there frozen, awaiting your reaction.

James could feel blood rushing in his ears before you finally broke the silence.

“That’s not how a relationship works for me,” you repeated calmly but firmly, completely disregarding his insult. This time however, you emphasized the last two added words.

James seemed to sober up alarmingly fast at that. He shot up in panic and shook his head in denial. “No, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of it! I’m not embarrassed of you, Darling. I’m not, I promise,” he tried, finally finding the words.

He looked at you pleadingly and watched helplessly as you pulled a hand through your hair in a distressed manner, jerking away from him when he reached out to you.

It was quiet again in the room. The only sounds your heavy breathing.

“It’s not working for me.” You eventually whispered, hurt evident in your voice at your sad realisation. You said it more to yourself than to him, but his ears caught it anyway.

James’ heart skipped in fear. The implication of your words were crystal clear to him. It smacked him in square the face and had him physically reel back. He stumbled back into the nearest wall. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you two breaking up was ever a possibility. You were madly in love with each other. And he loved you so incredibly much, you knew that, right? He felt nauseous.

You didn’t spare him another glance and stumbled away, desperate to get away from him. James’ knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, shock keeping the tears at bay for now.

Everything was really not fine.

“Prongs! Welcome back mate, I heard you’re a free man again!” Sirius greeted James with a cheer and a slap on the back when entered the common room. Sirius was wearing a big grin on his face.

James jerked away and furiously shook his head. “No, she- we haven’t broke up,” He insisted. “We had a fight b-but, we never officially said we were done, so we’re still- she’s still my girlfriend. So don’t say that, it's not true-“

Sirius noticed how distraught James actually was about the situation and the grin abruptly fell off his face, making space for concern. He put his hand on James shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He threw a look at Peter and Remus who looked taken aback by his defensive tone, also looking concerned.

“Okay,” Sirius nodded. “She’s still your girl, Prongs. Understood.” James nodded back and then shook Sirius’ arm off his shoulder and went upstairs to their room, plopping down on his bed, smothering his head in his pillow where he could finally cry.

You took the train and left Hogwarts that very same day. You called your dad and he promised to come pick you up at the platform. When you saw him, the only one on the platform so late in the evening, you ran up to him and he held you tightly. “Come on, sweetheart,” he nodded in appreciation at the elf who brought your luggage and brought you home.

You sighed and plopped on your bed, face first into the mattress. Exhaustion downing on you all at once and you fell asleep within minutes.

Your mother knocked on the door, knowing that that sufficed as you were a light sleeper. “Honey?” She called. “I know it’s late, but I think you should eat something nonetheless.” You made a noise.

“That mean I can come in?”

You lift you head up so you could say yes and she came in with a bowl of soup. You gratefully accepted it and she took the liberty of sitting next to you.

“You want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” you admitted and your mother gave you and understanding look. “Then we’ll keep you distracted for now. In fact, the day after tomorrow, your father and I are having dinner with the Black family. You could come with us.”

“But it’ll just be all business talk,” you groaned, placing your bowl of soup on your night stand.

“Yeah, well you know the Black family is the main investor in your father’s business, business talk is unavoidable. But you know what, it wouldn’t be just business. They said that they would love to meet you.”

‘Doubtful,’ you thought.

“I’ll think about it.” You replied.

“That’s okay, you have another day to consider it.” And with that, your mother kissed your forehead before leaving your room, taking the empty bowl with her. “Goodnight honey,” she said before closing the door gently. ‘Sirius was always spending his holidays at Hogwarts, so it’d be safe to go,’ you considered.

‘So the fates are really into proving me wrong, lately huh,” you thought to yourself as you spotted Sirius with a scowl on his face, standing with his parents in front of their manor to great you.

And so, before you know it, you were sitting at the end of the ridiculously long table, in front of Sirius. You wondered where his younger brother Regulus was. “Let the children sit together, business is boring to them anyways,” you father had said.

Though he hadn’t been wrong, you would pay to be part of the adult talks rather than sit here in awkward silence, avoiding Sirius’ eyes.

The past three days had been a rollercoaster for Sirius. First, he had been mildly annoyed at the letter that came with an owl that belonged to his mother. Then, he had been absolutely dreading going home. He also felt bad and concerned for James, because he was being a sad pile of bones. And when he saw you, surprise and guilt seeped in. A real rollercoaster.

Sirius kept staring intensely at you. Finally, you’ve had enough and you snapped at him. “What do you want.”

“I need to talk to you, privately.”

“Why would I talk with my ex's best friend?We have nothing to talk about, and I’d rather die than be in a room alone with an arsehole like you.”

“You’re not his ex.” He pointed out.

You raised your eyebrows at his words, inquiring him to explain himself.

“You’re not- You two are still together. I mean, you never officially said it was over. You’re still his girlfriend, he’s still your boyfriend. James is still holding on to that.” Sirius searched your face for reactions to that confession but found nothing.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just officially send him an owl then,” you replied dryly, done with his crap. You threw your napkin on the table and got up. You excused yourself, thanked Sirius’ mother for the food and walked out of the room. So much for this being a distraction from James.

“Wait, Y/N!” Sirius yelled out as he chased after you. You kept walking, neither slowing down, nor speeding up, as you walked in the direction of your house, despite knowing that it was an hour drive by car.

A heavy silence hung between you two as he walked next to you, both staring out in front of yourselves.

“It’s my fault.”

Now this made you look up at Sirius. You eyed him up and down sceptically, coming to a stop. “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Black. You’re definitely not my favourite person on this planet, but despite you talents at DADA, last I checked, you can’t cast the Imperio curse yet.” Sirius refrained from grinning at your retort.

“So unless you’re telling me that you’ve been using the polyjuice potion and posing as James Potter who has been a massive twat of a boyfriend for over a month, I highly doubt it’s your fault.” With that, you continued walking again.

“No, and no. You’re right, I guess.”

“I am.”

Sirius gave you a look and tried again. “Look, he was just all over you. And maybe I had to get used to Prongs being a taken guy, all mushy, but we all missed him. So I teased him a little,” he explained but hesitated at the end.

“You teased him a little,” you flatly repeated. “You teased him and it turned him into an asshole?”

“It was just a bunch of guys laughing about our whipped friend,” he paused. “Okay and some complaining,” he admitted. “I didn’t know he would straight up go to avoiding you because he was embarrassed to show affection in front of us though.”

You massaged your temples. “Okay first of all, you suck and you’re a shitty friend.” Sirius pulled a face. “Eh, deserved,” he scratched the back of his head.

“But my point still stands. James chose to lie to me by making up excuses to not have to be around me.” You huffed in frustration. “I’m not... I’ve never been in a relationship before, but I’m pretty sure that’s like, rule number one of things not to do.” You kicked against a pebble on the road.

“And then he goes and says horrible stuff about me behind my back. That’s probably rule number two,” you added, a frown on your face at the recollection of events.

“But if that wasn’t enough, he didn’t listen to me when I told him how I felt about it and instead yelled at me, trying to shift the blame on me, as if it’s my fault that I overheard you guys. Oh and also, he insulted me again! Though, in my face this time, I’ve got to give him that.” You mumbled the last part bitterly and looked back up at Sirius who awkwardly looked at his feet while listening to you rant.

“So no, Sirius. You were a shitty friend, but by no means the cause of our break up. That’s on James.”

“Please, you don’t understand,” Sirius pleaded again. “James is miserable alright? As in he’s kind of being pathetic right now, he refuses to believe you guys broke up. He keeps insisting that you’re still together, that he still has a chance to make up to you.”

It was your turn to look at your feet. Sirius continued. It was his turn to talk now and he felt he needed to help his friend. “He loves you so much. He really misses you.”

You wryly smiled at Sirius. “He tell you to say that?”

“No. Well, not explicitly.” Sirius patted his back pockets and fished a crumpled envelope out of it. He handed it over. When you opened it, you found a folded piece of paper that simply said ‘I am so sorry. I miss you and I love you so much.’ In James’ handwriting. You sighed.

“Look, I’m just trying to help my git of a friend who is madly, hopelessly in love with you. And I’m trying to make things right between you two because I am partially at fault. And I know you love him. He’s just being an big idiot.”

“Try ginormous.”

Sirius now openly grinned. Okay maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

“Will you please talk to him? I’m sure he will apologize because he regrets everything. I know he does. And if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore, you tell him. Just not by sending an owl right now before talking one more time, please.”

A car sounded its horns behind you and you turned around to see your mother and father. The car stopped next to you and the door opened. You turned to look at Sirius again. “Will you see James before I do?” You asked. Sirius nodded.

You handed him the envelope back. He hesitated to accept it. “Give him this. Don’t worry, I’m not breaking up with my boyfriend. I’ll talk to him at Hogwarts.” You reassured him.

Relieved at your words, Sirius took the envelope and you gave him a thumbs up. “You’re not so bad, Black,” you said as you got in the car.

“Back at you!” He called after you. He watched your car drive off.

He checked inside the envelope and found the folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, he found a uno reverse card stuck in between.

James was nervous. He impatiently paced around on platform 9¾, having arrived there way too early. Sirius had moved in with him over the holidays, running away from home and had brought a certain envelope with him. James heart had leaped when he found your card, putting it carefully under his pillow at night, carrying it in his pocket during the day.

“Merlin, Prongs would you just stand still,” Sirius commented from where he sat, leaning against a wall, cigarette twirling between his fingers.

“I can’t, Padfoot. This is literally the moment that will define the rest of my life!” James exclaimed dramatically, but walked over to Sirius and plopped down next to him anyways, mimicking Sirius’ action by twirling the game card around.

“Mate, you’ll be fine. She literally let you know she loved you too.” He nodded at the object James’ hands.

“But what if she loves me, but realised that she wants to be with someone who hasn’t acted like a stupid idiot?” James’ heart was racing at the thought. He’d spent the entire first week wallowing misery.

Other students started to arrive at the platform and James got back up to start pacing around again.

You softly pushed him away and immediately, the stream of self-deprecating words, apologies and other rambles flowed out of James’ mouth. You pecked his lips again to shush him.

You spotted each other at the same time. You offered him a hesitant smile but it was enough for James to take off in a sprint towards you.

He stopped in in front of you, unsure and apologies ready on the tip of his tongue. Someone called your name behind you and you looked back to see Wylan.

Turning to face James again, you offered him a fond expression and tiptoed to press a peck to his lips. James immediately responded to the kiss and he sighed in relief, shoulders less tense.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

No, not okay, he wanted to say but you cut him to it.

“I’ve got a friend waiting for me,” you beamed up at him in pride and he melted at the sight. “Okay,” he relented, making a mental note to tell Remus and Peter to apologize to you too.

“You’ll let me know when you have time?” He asked.

“I’ll make time for you,” you assured him. “We’ll talk after supper, if you don’t have any plans of course,” you teased.

James shook his head laughing. “I won’t,” He replied earnestly.

“You don’t know that! Like what if a famous Quidditch player wants to meet you after supper, huh? Then what?” You challenged him. He shrugged.

“I’ll reschedule.” He grinned.

You shake your head and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. He watched you head in the direction of your Ravenclaw friend who had his back turned to you and walked back to Sirius.

“Wylan!” You skipped over and slung an arm around him, ruffling his already messy hair. He looked up as if he’d been caught doing something wrong and relaxed with a smile when he saw it was just you. You laughed at his skittish behaviour. “So how was your holiday?”

“I actually got a book on alchemy for Christmas. I brought it with me, thought maybe you’d help me?” He asked nervously, a bit embarrassed at his request.

“Oh none of that,” you waved your hand at his antics. “I’ve been helping you with dyslexia for a while now, of course I’ll help!” He offered you a grateful smile.

“You have it with you now?”

Wylan nodded and pulled out a ridiculously heavy book. You whistled. “Better get started on that right away, huh. We should find a seat.”

You two moved to get on the Hogwarts Express, but before you disappeared inside, you looked back at James to see he did the same thing. You exchanged smiles, he dramatically made a deep bow and mouthed ‘milady’. Then he turned around and pumped his fist in the air, grinning from ear to ear.

Sirius patted James on the back when he returned. “See, nothing to worry about. Right back to snogging your girl,” he laughed out loud, but no malicious intent this time.

“Still a long way to go, though,” James admitted, but he wore a fond smile on his face at the thought of you, all giddy inside. “But we’ll be alright, I think. I’ll be the best bloody boyfriend out there you know. You better get used to the snogging. And be nice to her, she really means a lot to me.”

Sirius pushed him. “I’ll have you know that we’re on extremely good terms now,” he exaggerated.

James snorted. “No, you’re not,” he immediately said.

Sirius grinned, having fun riling him up. “Why don’t you go ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

James and Sirius walked towards their own compartment where they waited for Peter and Remus, arguing about it.

About two months later, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You ran down the stands and up to James, jumping in his arms. He fiercely kissed you, his friends and teammates hollering at him.

“Good luck charm,” he cheekily mumbled against your lips while flipping the others off, earning laughter. When the celebratory party was finally over, and the marauders and you retreated to their dorm, James instantly pulled you onto his lap, locking you in with his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you wriggled to get some air. Jokingly, you tapped out three times in mock surrender.

“And the winner is...”, Sirius drumrolled. “James Potter!” Remus and Peter jokingly clapped and cheered.

“Means you can let her breathe now, Prongs.” You mouthed a thank you at Sirius.

James pouted, offended. “Since when are you two such good buddies,” He complained.

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy. I told you, Y/N and I are on extremely good terms now.” He winked at you.

“Thought you’d be more happy that your girlfriend and brother could get along. I mean, figured it won’t be long until she becomes my sister-in-law.”

@moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @fanboyluvr @spiderman-stilinski @magical-spit @livelaughlivedilfs @nyenye @fluffybunnyu @prongs-moon @xcinnamonmalfoyx @akila-twt @treestarrrrrrrr @mrsmaybank13 @ireallywannasleep127 @imarimon @targaryenmoony @jessicamellarky @scriptsofthorns @lynbubble @variant-lokitty @elsie-bells @chichi3095 @my-beloved-fandoms @quackitysdrugdealer @pleasingregulus @mindflay3r @littlenerdybee

[bigfan-fanfic]

My Blooming Rose (Enchantress' Child!Reader x Ben Florian)

@iliumheightnights Hi friend! May I please request a little story? I'd love to read a story about Ben Florian dating a son of the enchantress reader. Reader still is learning magic and Ben helps him when he can and encourages him? All the fluff please?

In some respects, no one would necessarily blame your boyfriend's father for wanting to imprison your mother on the Isle of the Lost.

She did, after all, enchant a young, albeit spoiled, prince and condemn him (an eleven-year-old, mind you) to ten years of suffering and self-loathing in a body not his own.

But no. King Adam and his Queen would never have met if not for the Enchantress.

Besides, they learned well from the example of Queen Leah and King Stefan - don't piss off the magical entity in close proximity.

And so the Enchantress lived within Auradon, and you, her child, were born.

You're not sure you quite approve of the whole Isle of the Lost thing - your mother's punishments tended to get to people before they became irredeemable, so the idea of endless incarceration seems harsh, even by her standards.

But all the same, you are invited to Auradon Prep, mainly to study with the Fairy Godmother to hone your talents in magic. And since you aren't expected to enter a royal line, you don't even have to do some of the more inane Auradon courses.

But who would have thought that without any magic at all, you'd have ensorcelled the heart of Prince Ben.

Ben is just a spot of sunshine in your world, he's so affectionate and lovely.

And supportive!

He's figured out the loophole in the rule that he can't spend all his free time with you by organizing "study dates" in addition to normal dates.

But since magical homework and study is pretty involved, that just means he hangs around in your dorm with you more often than not.

Not that either of you mind.

Except this can sometimes lead to minor mishaps.

You're practicing a spell in the mirror, meant to help disguise someone by changing their appearance.

Focusing on your hair, trying to lengthen it just a little. Just a small test.

But then Ben leaps up to kiss you on the cheek and you wave the training wand just a little haphazardly-

And Ben gets a face-full of your magic.

"Oh my gosh, Ben! Are you okay?"

"Yup!" Ben groans from the floor. "Nothing broken. I think."

He hops back up to his feet, and you gasp.

Your boyfriend's smooth jaw has sprouted patchy growths of hair that are still thickening until they make a rather nice beard and mustache. "Ben... I..."

Ben sees himself in the mirror and grins. "Oh, this is nice!"

"It was an accident."

"If even your accidents are this great, you're gonna be a better wizard than Merlin!" Ben pats your shoulder before stroking his new beard. "It's not even scratchy!"

You blush. "You look really good with a beard."

"Do I look kingly?" Ben asks eagerly, striking a pose.

"You do, but let's try and find a counterspell quickly. Accidental magic tends to corrupt pretty fast. You might end up with the hair changing colors like a chameleon or something."

"That actually sounds kinda-"

"And then I wouldn't be able to see where to kiss you."

Ben instantly gets serious. "Let's hit the books."

"But uh... when you do reverse the spell... Maybe try it on purpose? I wanna see what kissing with a beard is like."

You grin. "Oh really? Why?"

"Cause when you're my Royal Consort, I'll probably grow out a beard and kiss you all the time, so... I wanna see what I'm working toward."

You laugh and then squeeze his hand. "In that case, let's get this thing reversed as soon as we can."

"Love you. My blooming rose."

"Love you. My noble king."

[boom-bada-boom]

of the old religion

there are consequences to being a creature of magic, of the old religion, of power and energy given form.

merlin is not human, no matter what he thinks. the body he has is just a second skin, a coat over the tumultuous magic beneath, so that it had shape, form. he looks human, he thinks human, he feels human. but he is not truly human.

it’s why shapeshifting spells work so well upon him. he’s not changing himself, just the look of the skin he’s wearing. the magic beneath has no true form, and thus cannot be changed when it is everything everywhere all at once.

(the magic that makes merlin is the magic that makes the world, so it has no shape and to look upon it with mortal eyes would be a headache inducing, nauseating ever-shifting thing, that moves through different features of different magical beings like the water of a lake rippling.)

OR

someone with a deep connection to the old religion can see that emrys is no true human. just a creature of magic wearing a human skin, a shapeshifter that refuses to show its true form. (because people say emrys is magic, but no one truly understands the roiling thing living and breathing inside his skin. so obviously there has to be a true form of emrys underneath the image of merlin.)

so they decide to rip that human skin off. force the shape beneath to show itself. tear away the visage of merlin to leave behind only emrys, the creature that will bring magic back to the land or so help them.

it takes a lot of energy and power, and the use of ancient artifacts of the old religion that have been slowly gathering magic for centuries. but they manage it, they bind the human skin to an object, and tear the object away, to leave behind only emrys.

…

except emrys is not made for mortal eyes. especially not the eyes of someone who had hurt them and tore away their shape, their form. (because emrys, as a creature of magic, is still heartbreakingly young. a child, really. maybe that’s why merlin is still so wide-eyed all the time. still young at heart, even as his body looks older.)

so they look upon emrys and burn.

and emrys, lost and confused and hurt and not understanding— where is their body why do they hurt what is wrong with them they are constantly changing shapes and cannot control it and theyre so scared— flees to the only thing they know for sure. and behind them, amongst the mess of ash and scorched earth that once was alive, the object holding their skin lies abandoned, forgotten.

OR

arthur finds the embodiment of magic huddled up against his bedroom window. he doesn’t recognize it immediately as such, but it glows golden and cannot seem to stop subtlety changing shape and growing features that were not there before while losing others. and really, he picks up on the fact eventually.

to reiterate, arthur pendragon, son of the magic-hating king, a young man who had not yet decided if he would hate it the same, has the embodiment of magic hiding outside his window.

he shouldn’t open it. shouldn’t let the pathetic, forcing-itself-to-be-small thing inside.

it howls and cries without words, a sad and fearful air pressing down on him, begging begging helphelphelphelpsomethingswrongsomethingswrongtheytookawaymybodyarthurarthurarthurhelphelphelphelphe—

arthur opens the window.

as the magic flies in, it takes a more solid, in the loosest form of the word, form, dragon-like and small. young. it hides in the crook of his neck, tucks its head in close and shivers.

arthur feels almost like he has let in a frightened bird, it is so small and fluttery.

merlin’s gone missing and there is something small and magical and highly illegal hiding against the small hollow between his neck and shoulders.

he leaves it there.

OR

arthur holds a power he does not quite understand in his hands. he knows it is greater than its form, can feel the pressing weight of something that belies the tiny body.

he knows it is magic. perhaps that is all he really needs to know.

and then he does something that feels exceedingly foolish.

“i’m looking for merlin, my… manservant,” he begins, and the golden thing ripples like a lake in the wind, “can you find where he was taken?”

at least seven eyes blink into existence upon the roiling magical creature, all of them looking up at arthur. another blink, and then they vanish. in their place, wings sprout, some of them draconian in shape, others more bird-like and feathery.

a tail, tiny and yet impossibly strong, wraps around his wrist, and the thing takes flight, pulling him along.

the knights startle, when arthur appears, being seemingly dragged behind a creature no bigger than a songbird, and so breathtakingly magical in spite of it.

“well?” arthur asks, acerbic. “prepare your steeds. we’ve finally gotten a lead on merlin.”

OR

they find a wasteland.

there is nothing left alive in a large circle, all of it surrounding an ancient building now nothing but rubble. the life is not burned away, or diseased into nothing, or anything that could be argued as natural.

instead, it is a wasteland that magic had abandoned. that intrinsic thing within all things, alive and not, had fled this place, ushered out by a fearful and terrified little godling ripped away from the only skin-home it had ever known.

nothing lives here and nothing will ever live here.

it is an ill omen indeed.

and then they discover the sorcerer’s bones, and the fact that said sorcerer was not in fact working alone.

“you,” the only other living being in about a mile spits out like a curse, upon sighting the king, “what have you done with them? where is the being below the skin?”

none of the knights nor the king understand. the little creature of magic had hidden itself in the folds of arthur’s cape, another golden draconian insignia among the rest.

“the what?” arthur asks.

“where is emrys?” the sorcerer spits, summoning a stream of fire heading directly for the king.

magic itself, given form, bursts from the camelot red cape, all golden edges and vengeful anger, the tiny thing no larger than an arm suddenly expanding rapidly. it forms a gigantic serpent, or something like it, lithe and long, but with the beak of a bird of prey, eyes like a feline, a unicorn’s horn on its head. it eats the fire whole, and the giant form bears down on the suddenly cowering sorcerer.

“but—but we freed you,” they mutter, afraid, “we released you from the human shell containing you. how else… how else could you bring back magic…?”

the thing cannot speak, it has no way to do so. what it can do is press feeling into your head. whatever this is, it is so powerful everyone there can feel it, and perhaps even some that are much further away.

G I V E I T B A C K.

it feels nothing like the helpless pained crying that arthur had heard from outside his window, like a yowling alley cat. this monster is nothing like the little bird-like afraid thing that had hidden in his collar, tucked against his throat. this beast of dripping fangs and deadly edges is almost completely separate from the creature of fluttery wings and wide eyes.

and yet he can hear something distinctly afraid in the wailing howl.

it is still desperate and afraid. it’s just angry enough now to cover it up.

[crimsntwlip]

seeker | theodore nott.

pairing: theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader

warnings: short, readers status not mentioned, nothing really!!!

summary: based on this request <3

a/n: this is my first request so i hope this is what you wanted !! <3

| posted: 02/07/24 | masterlist |

“merlin ‘enzo, can’t believe you dragged me to this game” theodore complained as he and lorenzo sat down in the benches of the slytherin stand.

“just because you aren’t on the team anymore doesn’t mean we can’t support mattheo, arse!” lorenzo slapped the back of theodore’s back.

“plus i heard they replaced you.” enzo snickered as theodore sent enzo a glare before turning his attention back down where the team was located.

the grandstands were bathed in a warm, golden warmth as the sun fell over the quidditch field. there was a nervous air of anticipation as the slytherin team prepared for their match versus ravenclaw.

as the teams shot into the air, y/n caught theodore's eye as the slytherin’s new seeker. he didn’t know much of her despite being in the same house. he had bumped into her here and there and maybe exchange a couple of words but merlin he didn’t even think she was into quidditch.

y/n darted through the air, agile and swift, eyes focused on the golden snitch. her quidditch robes billowed behind her as she flew, the green and silver colors of slytherin contrasting beautifully against the darkening sky. theodore couldn't tear his gaze away, mesmerized by the grace with which y/n maneuvered her broom.

as the game progressed, y/n's skill on the field was clear as the game went on. she soared through the air, dodging bludgers and racing after the snitch with a fierce determination that left theodore breathless. the way she moved, the way she commanded her broom with such confidence and precision - it was nothing short of captivating.

“y/n l/n has caught the snitch! slytherin wins!”

the crowd erupted in cheers, celebrating slytherin's victory. theodore's heart raced with adrenaline as he watched y/n land gracefully on the pitch, a triumphant smile on their face. it was then that y/n caught sight of theodore in the stands, her eyes meeting for a brief moment before y/n’s teammates swooped in to congratulate her.

after the match, theodore and lorenzo made their way down to the pitch, his heart still pounding with excitement. they made their way towards mattheo,

“bloody hell mate, good job out there!” enzo congratulated mattheo, pulling him into a bro hug as theodore stood next to them, except his attention was fixated towards the slytherin girl surrounded by her friends.

y/n and her friends noticed theodore’s staring. she gave him a small smile while her friends giggled, teasing y/n as they nudged her as he felt embarrassed as he was caught staring. he approached y/n, a hint of awe in his gaze as he spoke, "you were incredible out there. i’ve never seen anyone fly like that before."

y/n smiled, a blush creeping onto her cheeks at theodore's praise. "thank you," she said, a shy smile playing on her lips. "i'm glad you enjoyed the game."

as they talked, a new relationship started to blossom between theodore and y/n. theodore couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration for y/n- not just for her incredible quidditch skills, but for the passion and determination that radiated from her.

it was clear to him that y/n was someone truly special, someone who he wanted to get to know better and spend more time with. and as they continued to bond over shared interests and experiences, theodore found himself falling deeper and deeper for y/n, grateful for the unexpected connection that had brought them together.

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace Thank you for your beautiful comments! And for the ones that gave me ideas, trust me, I'm taking them into account ;)

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 (You're here) , PART 9

A little more of "The Dragon's Call"

Arthur: (at the feast waiting anxiously because Merlin is supposed to save him from "Lady Helen" to become his servant today and he isn't there yet)

Uther: Are you alright, Arthur?

Arthur: (too quickly) Yeah, right, excelent, never better.

Uther: You've been acting strange lately.

Arthur: (thinking) Well it's not easy to act normal around your dead father and your dead sister who wanted you dead. (says) I just haven't been sleeping well. I had... nightmares. Very long nightmares.

Uther: I see... (Thinking) I hope Morgana's condition isn't contagious.

Merlin: (Finally arrives with Gaius at the feast)

Arthur: (turns and his eyes find Merlin's almost immediately)

Merlin: (Thinking, while he looks at Arthur in the distance) Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?

Arthur: (Noticing Merlin is without his neckerchief, and he is so young and so beautiful, and he doesn't have his neckerchief on!) Gods have mercy!

Morgana: (enters in her breathtaking dress)

Merlin: (stares at her, but with a mix of longing and guilt)

Gwen: She looks great, doesn't she?

Merlin: (smiling sadly) Yeah...

Gwen: Some people are just born to be queen.

Merlin: (almost shouting) NO!

Gwen: There's no need to sound so disturbed.

Merlin: (composing himself) I'm sorry just... I think she could do better than Arthur that's all. (Thinking) And with someone that is not her brother.

Gwen: He's not so bad.

Merlin: (confused cause Gwen was supposed to agree with him) What do you mean? He was bullying a servant only a few days ago!

Gwen: I remmember. You confronted him about it.

Merlin: See? A total prat.

Gwen: And he also recognised his mistake and apologised. And he didn't arrest you for insulting him in front of his knights though that's technically treason.

Merlin: Okay, maybe not a total prat, but still a prat. (Thinking, worried) He was too nice indeed. Perhaps I was too harsh on him this time?

Morgana: (seeing Arthur is watching in Merlin and Gwen's direction) Have your eye on someone?

Arthur: (Cold) No.

Morgana: (playfully) Is it Gwen? or perhaps-

Arthur: Let's sit. Lady Helen will arrive at any moment (goes to his sit)

Morgana: ... Sure (thinking, while she goes to her sit) What's wrong with him?

Uther: (making an announcement) We have enjoyed 20 years of piece and prosperity....

Arthur: (thinking, resentfully) 20 years of genocide and lies.

Uther: ...It has brought to the kingdom and myself many pleasures but few can compare to the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.

Lady Helen: (enters while people clap)

Arthur: (looks at Merlin in the distance)

Merlin: (very concentrated with his eyes on the chandelier, waiting for lady Helen to stand under it)

Arthur: (smiling to himself, thinking) So that's how you did it.

Everyone falls asleep, except for Arthur who does feel sleepy but is still slightly awake for some reason, so he gets to witness when all the room is filled with spiderwebs and Merlin uses his magic to make the chandelier fall over Helen, who is soon reveal to be Mary Collins.

Arthur: (confused) What... (thinking) Why didn't I fall completely asleep?

Merlin: (whose magic hasn't been able to freeze time since he traveled back in time, but he doesn't know why) Come on, come on! (Tries again to stop time but doesn't work) Damn it! (Shouts and runs to Arthur) ARTHUR!

Mary Collins: (throws the knife at Arthur)

Merlin: (covers Arthur with his body on time and the knife stabs his back)

Arthur: (horrified) NO! (Holding Merlin as they fall to the floor) No, no, no, no! You idiot, what were you thinking?!

Gaius: (running to Merlin) Merlin!

Uther: Who is this?

Gaius: My ward. (checks Merlin) We need to move him to my tower as carefully and quickly as possible. I can't pull the knife out here, he'll bleed to death.

Merlin: (smiling weakely at Arthur) I did it. (Tears of happiness) I did... (Starts closing his eyes).

Arthur: (panic mode) No! don't you dare die on me! (carries him as Gaius instructed) You're going to be okay, you're going to be okay. Stay with me (thinking) Please, don't leave me again. I just got you back. I can't lose you again.

Time skip. Merlin wakes up in Gaius's tower and with his wound bandaged. The knife didn't puncture anything important, but apparently the blade was poisoned. Fortunately, it was a pretty common one and Gaius took care of it rather quickly. Gaius scolds him for scaring him as expected but then hugs him gently and tells him he must not do any effort for at least 2 weeks and rest. Just as Gaius leaves for some herbs, Arthur enters to check on him.

Arthur: Better do as he says. I can't have my personal manservant injuring himself.

Merlin: Personal manservant?

Arthur: My father, the king, decided to reward you for saving my life by granting you a place at the royal household.

Merlin: (happy inside, but pretending to be annoyed) As your personal manservant? Couldn't he just give me gold or something?

Arthur: (playing along) Most would consider it a great honor.

Merlin: Well, I'm not like most people.

Arthur: (laughs a little) You certainly aren't. (Gets close and checks him out little, cause he's never seen Merlin without a shirt before and damn it! is hard not to stare, but as soon as his eyes land on the bandage, he turns serious) What you did was very brave... and stupid. You shouldn't have done that.

Merlin: (still mocking) If that's your way to say "Thank you for saving my life", well, yeah, I'm starting to regret saving your royal ass.

Arthur: I'm serious. Now you're my manservant, therefore my responsability and my concern. You're not allowed to put yourself in harms way, ever, not even for me. (Thinking) specially for me.

Merlin: (bewildered at the sudden concern) Is that a rule?

Arthur: It is now. Do I make myself clear?

Merlin: (touched, he smiles) Yes, my lord. (Thinking) I would die for you a hundred times over.

Arthur: (Thinking, a wave of nostalgia invading him) "My lord"... how much I missed that. (says) Good. Now get some rest (starts leaving, but stops and turns) And Merlin.

Merlin: Yes?

Arthur: Thank you for saving my life. (Makes a small bow, smiles and leaves)

Merlin: ...

Merlin: Did he just bow to me?!! 😨

...

Some explanation: Arthur is now, not immune, but a little more resistant to some mind spells since his mind is from the future and has already passed for all those spells before. Merlin's magic is kind of weak, because the ritual Arthur did used the magic from the tree, therefore Merlin's magic to do the time travel thing, so lets say his magic is a little exhausted and needs recovering, but it just last a few days.

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

FIRST ROUND: 24th Tilt

King Vortigern, King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017) VS. William Thatcher, A Knight’s Tale (2001)

Propaganda

King Vortigern, King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017) Portrayed by: Jude Law Defeated Opponents: - Uther Pendragon [Anthony Stewart Head], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

It's Jude Law having the time of his life as a sneering pantomime villain draped in black leather and furs, what more could you ask for???”

William Thatcher, A Knight’s Tale (2001) Portrayed by: Heath Ledger Defeated Opponents: - King Arthur [Charlie Hunnam], King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)

“13-year-old me had such a HUGE crush on Will Thatcher / Ulrich von Liechtenstein, and you know what? 13-year-old me was RIGHT (and had much healthier taste in men). He's a dreamer, he's sweet (except maybe when you're dismissive about jousting...), he gives to others despite having little himself, he has the most charming, contagious smile. And to play us out... he's blonde! He's pissed! He'll see you in the lists! Lichtenstein! Lichtenstein!”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For King Vortigern:

For William Thatcher:

“HE'S SO CUTE AND BRAVE AND STUPID AND DETERMINED AND FUNNY AND POETIC AND HE HAS BIG BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES AND FRECKLES AND HE'S BISEXUAL-CODED HE'S MY BOY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH”

“The only man that could have pulled off a David Bowie dance scene within a medieval ballroom.”

[thebabygronckle]

merlin au where everyone finds out merlin is a sorcerer and theyre all covering for him from arthur

except arthur already knows??? hes known like. pretty much the whole time. hes been waiting for merlin to tell him himself.

but the longer it goes on the more arthur wonders if its something hes doing? he and merlin are close, arthur considers merlin his closest friend, but maybe arthur has done something to dissuade merlin from trusting him? maybe merlin cant forgive arthur for being uthers son? because arthur has noticed the increasing amount of people covering for his manservant, hes aware everybody ELSE knows

[theemporium]

[REQUESTS OPEN]

[4.7k] remus is dragged out to a rock pub after being influenced by sirius, but maybe the pretty punk girl talking to him makes it worth the sacrifice. even if she makes him unreasonably flustered. (smut)

based off the prompt: “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly”

.

Remus Lupin was never one to let peer pressure get to him, especially done by the likes of Sirius Black. 

His resolve was always pretty strong and despite his friend’s annoying persistency, he always did a pretty damn good job of telling him to fuck off before he finally caught the hint. It had been the practice over the many years of friendship the boys had shared and would most likely continue into their many years spent together into the future. 

Except for tonight. 

For some reason that was beyond him, he had broken his own tradition and found himself agreeing to whatever nonsense Sirius was rambling on about when he walked into the common room, dramatically sighing and pouting when he mentioned James bailed on him at the last minute for a date with Lily. 

“C’mon, Moony, it’s just one night,” Sirius had pleaded, half lying on the boy’s lap so he could grab the book out of his hands and gain the werewolf’s full attention. “Prongs is off with Evans and Peter has detention with Minnie. Come on! You’re my only hope!” 

“What about Mary?” 

“It’s not her scene.” 

“And Marlene?” 

“She slammed the door in my face before I could even ask.” 

Remus closed his eyes, letting out a sigh that told the boy his resolve was wearing thin. “And you can’t take Lily and James?” 

“I’m not being the fucking third wheel again,” Sirius scoffed, nose scrunched up as memories flashed through his mind. “Not after New Years. I don’t think I’ll ever get my innocence back.” 

Remus snorted. “Like you ever had it in the first place.” 

Sirius waved him off, eyes wide and hopeful as he flashed his friend a grin. “So you’ll come with?” 

“I–” 

“Brilliant, see you at six, Moony!” 

“I didn’t even say yes yet!” Remus called out after him but the boy was already running towards the common room door, not giving the boy a chance to even wiggle his way out of whatever Sirius had been begging him to attend. 

And maybe that was his mistake. He never asked Sirius what this event was, mostly because it was usually easier to not be an accomplice in his crimes—even by knowledge. But that was clearly the regrettable choice when Sirius dragged him away from the school, using the map to guide them through the secret passages until they were beyond the wards before apparating to merlin-knows-where. 

Because of fucking course Sirius Black would drag him to a punk rock grunge bar in a part of London he wasn’t familiar with.

“Pads,” he murmured in a warning voice, hands tucked into the pocket on his jacket as he followed his friend towards the door. 

“Just chill, Moony,” Sirius called out as the sound of music thumped beyond the closed doors. “Who knows, maybe you’ll have fun.” 

“In a muggle bar?” 

Sirius turned to look at him over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Who said it was a muggle bar?”

Remus held back his own wince the second the atmosphere of the bar hit him: the loud music, the throng of dancing bodies, the smell of alcohol and sweat and the taste of tobacco and marijuana thick in the clouded air. 

No wonder the little prick ran out before Remus could interrogate him on where they were going. 

To his credit, Sirius had stuck to his side for a total twenty minutes before the boy disappeared into the crowd of dancing partygoers, drink in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. Remus could only laugh and shake his head as he watched his friend go. 

He knew there was nothing stopping him from walking out the pub and heading back. Despite his dramatics, Sirius would understand and wouldn’t hold it against him. But he knew the kind of mood his friend was in, and nine times out of ten, Remus would be needed to intervene before Sirius got his ass kicked. 

Might as well sit around until that moment inevitably came. 

He had tucked himself at the back of the pub where the bar was situated, taking a stool at the very end of the bar where he could sip on his drink and observe. He recognised most of the songs considering Sirius had played them in the dorm more times than he could remember, and he couldn’t deny he enjoyed some of them. But it was difficult to fit in when everybody there was in various pieces of leather clothing, chunky boots and more pieces of jewellry than he could ever imagine.

It was a pub full of Sirius Black’s and that thought was concerning enough for him to order another drink soon after.

He was fiddling with a napkin when a body slid between his stool and the one next to him, arms pressed against the sticky counter and the scent of vanilla overbearing his senses from the smell of the pub. It felt almost instinctive to keep his eyes on the napkin, watching the way the paper shredded with each piece he ripped off until he had a small pile lying beside his glass. It felt instinctive to keep his eyes anywhere but on the pair of eyes he could feel burning into his side. 

“You look like you’ve just been dropped here after your shift at the library.”

But something about the voice was magnetic and he couldn’t help himself from turning his head to peek at you through the mess of brown curls on his head and—fuck, it felt like someone had hit him right in the centre of his chest.

Remus had met many attractive people in his life. Pretty ones and handsome ones and gorgeous ones and ones that took your breath. Everyone had a side of beauty in them that could make them shine and stand out in a crowd, but fuck had he ever seen someone like you. 

His mind went completely blank when he looked at you, almost as though his brain was trying to process the fact you existed and were not just a perfect figment of his imagination. Your skin was covered with a thin layer of sweat, your hair was messy and wild from dancing and the makeup around your eyes looked a little more smudged than usual—but it was fucking mesmirising and he couldn’t find it within himself to look away.  

He opened his mouth to say something—anything—to you. Hell, even just to say hello but the boy found himself speechless as he openly gaped at you. 

“It’s cute though,” you reassured him, painted lips curving up in a smirk and it took him a few seconds to tear his eyes away from them. “Hot librarian is really in these days.” 

“I’m not a librarian!” he blurted out, his cheeks instantly heating up when he realised how loud he had him.

But you laughed and the embarrassment swelling in his chest eased up a little at the sound. 

“Of course not, silly,” you said with an amused tone in your voice. “You’re missing the glasses.” 

Remus could only let out a shaky breath, hand clenching around his glass a little too hard that he was honestly surprised it didn’t shatter in his hold but he couldn’t quite find the words to reply just yet. 

“So, how did you find yourself dragged out here?” you asked, seeming to take it upon yourself to continue the conversation even when the bartender dropped your drink in front of you. But you remained in your spot, tucked between the stools as you took a leisurely sip from the bottle you had just ordered. “Got a girlfriend who dragged you out?” 

His eyes widened a little. “No!” 

“No?” you questioned, not even bothering to bite back your smile. “Boyfriend then?” 

“No, no, I–” Remus paused for a moment, clearing his throat as he tried to string together a coherent sentence. “I came with my friend, Sirius. He didn’t have anyone to go with so…I came.”

You raised your brows. “Do I get to know your name or do I have to keep referring to you as Sirius’ cute friend?”

Remus only hoped the lights of the pub didn’t pick up on his burning cheeks, or the way the tips of his ears matched his blush. “I, uh, Remus. My name is Remus.” 

“Well, Remus, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said as you introduced yourself, extending your hand to the boy. You watched the way his eyes dropped to your hand, eyeing it carefully and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I promise I don’t bite.” 

His eyes widened. “No, I–” 

 “Unless you want me to,” you added and watched in delight the way his lips parted in surprise. 

Remus was different from every other witch and wizard in this establishment. From the tattered jeans and knitted sweater he wore to the worn trainers and dishevelled hair, he stood out like a sore thumb in a place like this. And yet, you loved it. 

You loved it when you spotted him from across the pub. You loved it when you pushed your way through the crowd and made your way to the bar to get closer to him. You loved it when you could see the way his eyes fought to not glance over as you settled beside him. 

You fucking loved how flustered he got around you. It wasn’t the first time you made a man feel that way and you doubt it would be the last, but there was something different—something more satisfying—when it came to Remus.

“I mean, I just—” he gulped a little when you stepped closer to him, his body seeming to have a mind of its own as his legs parted to accommodate you standing between them. “Yeah…” 

“Yeah? You’d like that?” you teased, head tilted to the side as you raised a hand to his face. Your finger traced down the line of his jaw, watching the way it clenched under your touch before he let out a shaky breath. “Maybe I can add to those wicked scars you have.” 

His heart was thundering in his chest. “Wicked?” 

“Wicked hot,” you murmured absentmindedly as you traced along the scars slashed across his face. They weren’t obvious, the pale marks almost invisible against his skin in the pub lighting but you noticed them the second you stepped between his legs. And fuck, you loved the way they looked. 

“T-Thanks,” he stuttered out, hooded eyes focused on how close you were to him. How fucking easy it would be for him to just lean down and—

“Do I make you nervous, Remus?” you asked innocently. 

His eyes snapped back up to meet yours, a small crease forming between his brows. “I–no, why would you think that?”

“You’re really hot and you’re breathing funny,” you told him, though the gleam in your eyes told him this was beyond concern. You knew you made him nervous and he knew you loved. Fuck, he loved it. You were the kind of girl people would tell him to run for the hills if he ever came across you, but he didn’t want to run. He wanted to stay right where he was even if it was his own ruination. 

“Crowds make me nervous,” he blurted out, smart enough to know you were teasing him but not quite brave enough to admit it. It seems like the Gryffindor within him couldn’t compete with the pretty girl standing between his legs.

Your smile made his breath catch in his throat. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he rasped as your hand fell to his chest, feeling his pounding heart beneath your palm before your hand slid down to intertwine with his.

“You wanna go somewhere a little more quiet?” 

And before he could even process the question, the words left his lips.

“Lead the way.” 

His drink was left abandoned on the bar counter as he let you pull him through the crowd of dancing witches and wizards. His eyes never strayed away from you, his attention completely locked on you as you led him down a dimly lit corridor before you reached a fire exit door and quickly pushed it open, leading him outside before the door closed behind you. 

He glanced around, picking up on the small space as the light chill brushed against his heated cheeks. It seemed like it was a back alley, blocked off from the main street. The space was decorated with some old, battered sofas and chairs but there was an odd sense of comradery in the air.

“Are we allowed to be back here?” he asked, taking a few steps deeper into the back alley. 

“Legally? No,” you stated simply, grinning at the way his head swivelled around to meet your gaze. “But that’s why it’s so fun.” 

“You’re confident we won’t get caught?” 

“Also no.” 

Remus huffed out a little laugh. It was almost like you were reading out the marauders motto and he found his chest tightening a little at the idea. 

He watched as you sauntered across the space, falling back onto one of the cracked leather sofas and grinned up at him. You patted the spot next to you, eyebrows raising a little in your offer and he couldn’t find it within himself to deny you. 

Remus settled into the spot next to you, his thigh pressed against your thigh and his shoulder pressed against your shoulder. He could feel his body tensing at the touch, his hands laying on his lap in tight fists as he cleared his throat a little to distract him from the way his stomach twisted in delight at the lack of space between you. 

“Relax, Remus,” you spoke softly, arm stretching out along the back of the sofa as your hand rested on his shoulder.

“You got something to help me relax?” he joked, though it came off a little flat with his shaky voice but you laughed regardless.

“Is that all you need to let me see the real Remus?” you questioned, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. 

His eyes caught the movement, body working on autopilot when his brain went blank with an array of thoughts that made him want to squirm in his seat. “Maybe so.”

“You should’ve told me earlier,” you grinned at him, watching as his eyes went comically wide as you reached into your bra, only to pull out a joint a few seconds later. “Got a light?” 

“Uh, no,” he murmured as he watched you place the joint between your lips. You raised your brows and Remus leaned forwards slightly, whispering a charm under his breath until the end of the joint lit up in a soft orange.

“Guess the nerd aesthetic isn’t for show,” you teased, taking a deep inhale before softly blowing out the smoke. “Good to see you got the looks and the brains, Remus.” 

But the boy could barely reply, just simply content to lay his head back on the back of the sofa and watch you. The way your body was twisted, turned towards him with your legs tucked underneath you. The way your painted lips wrapped around the joint, staining the rolling paper with the colour of your lipstick but it drove him even more mad to see the marks. Even the way your hair fell across your face, a mind of his own as the light breeze softly grazed your skin, goosebumps raised on your arms but you only grinned when he offered to charm a heating spell over you.

He was completely and utterly enamoured about you, and he couldn’t bring himself to even care or bother hiding it.

“You think you can handle a hit, big boy?” you asked, a dangerous look on your face that told Remus you could’ve asked him anything and he would’ve agreed to it. 

He nodded his head, eyes dipping down to your lipstick-stained joint before he lifted his hand to take it from you, but you acted quicker than the werewolf. 

Before he could even process it, you had swung your legs over him and planted yourself on his lap. Your smile widened when you saw the way his cheeks flushed, his hands instantly dropping to your waist and holding onto you, almost like he was scared you were going to jump off his lap. 

“Be a good boy f’me, okay?” you murmured before bringing the joint to your lips, taking a deep inhale and keeping the smoke in your mouth. 

Your eyes never looked away from him as you gripped his chin, watching his lips part just enough for you to lean down and slowly blow the smoke into his mouth. 

The boy beneath you let out a soft groan, your lips brushing against his and his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you a little closer. 

“Keep it there,” you ordered him softly, nose nudging against his as you watched his face. As you watched the way his eyes started to water slightly and his lips trembled and only then did you whisper again. “Let it out.”

His breaths were a little shaky as he stared up at you, eyes a little hooded and hazy as your hand still gripped his chin. You murmured a soft praise under your breath, thumb fanning over his pouty lips but it wasn’t enough. 

“Please,” he let out, his voice low and guttural and fuck, you couldn’t lie at the way your stomach clenched a little at the sound. 

“Such a gentleman, Remus,” you murmured before you threw the joint somewhere behind you on the ground, both hands grabbing his face before you pressed your lips against his. 

The boy shamelessly moaned against your lips, squeezing your hips as his lips began to move against yours. It was slow and lazy at first, no rush as your tongue teased him before you deepened the kiss. And then the pace started picking up and your hands were running up and down his chest, along his neck and through his hair and Remus felt like he was going to fucking explode. 

The way your fingers tangled in his messy brown hair, tugging his head to the side before your head dipped down to kiss along the expanse of his neck and jaw, nibbling on the skin softly just to hear the way he whimpered into your ear when your teeth bit down on the spot just below his ear. 

But no matter how passionately you kissed him and no matter how much he moaned, his hands never swayed away your hips. They stayed firmly planted at your sides, squeezing whenever you did anything that made his head fucking spin but they never moved. 

He didn’t want to push your boundaries or cross a line you didn’t want. The boy could barely comprehend the super hot witch grinding against his lap and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe, he wasn’t about to ruin it with wandering hands. 

But then you pulled away, lips red and swollen, and gave him a look that made his jeans feel tight around his cock. 

“Do you want to fuck or not?” you asked bluntly, eyes darkened by desire and lust for the werewolf beneath you. 

“I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” he blurted out, cheeks tinted pink by his confession but it was the least of his problem when a smirk split across your face. 

“Then touch me like you mean it,” you said as you slid your hands over his, guiding them along your sides and up your stomach until both hands rested over your tits. “Get it?” 

“Got it,” he confirmed with a nod of his head, hooded eyes stuck on your chest as he gave your tits an experimental squeeze. 

“C’mon, Remus,” you murmured as you leaned down to kiss along his jaw and towards his ear, lips brushing against him as your warm breath fanned over his skin. “Show me your wild side.”

Remus couldn’t get enough of you from that point on. Maybe it was the liquid courage. Maybe it was the weed that finally relaxed him. Or maybe it was that Gryffindor courage that finally made him get his head out of his ass and take what he wanted. 

Because he wanted you. Fuck, he wanted you badly. He wanted you the second he first laid his eyes on you and now here you were, sitting on his lap and practically ordering him to touch you, and he honestly thought he was seconds away from waking up from the best dream in his life but this was real. 

You were real. 

And Merlin, did Remus want to bask in every fucking moment of attention you gave him.

“Fuck,” you whispered between kisses, your fingers tugging the fabric of his knitted sweater over his head. “You taste like chocolate.” 

He lifted his hands, letting you chuck the sweater to the side before his hands were all over you again. The way he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you closer to him as your head dipped down to press kisses along his scars. The way his hands grabbed your ass, groaning at the way your jeans fitted you because it was just another thing added to your list of many perfections. 

“Are you particularly attached to this top?” he asked breathlessly, fingers digging into your thighs as he impatiently tugged on the denim fabric. 

Your hands moved to the button of your jeans, your belt already long gone and your jeans soon following. “Not really—” 

You hadn’t even finished talking before the sound of fabric ripping echoed against the brick walls of the back alley, your top now in shred and abandoned to the side before Remus’ face was nuzzled between your tits, his hands groping any inch of skin his lips couldn’t kiss. 

“Fucking knew it,” you moaned as your head fell back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to leave pretty purple marks along the swells of your tits. “Wild side.” 

“Just wanna make you feel good,” he muttered as a pathetic defence, but defending his honour was the last thing on his mind when he could feel the fabric of your soaked panties pressed against the bulge of his jeans. 

Remus whined when you pulled away, even if it was for a short few moments to shed the remainder of the pieces of clothing keeping you away from each other. But then you were grabbing his face once again, fingers pressing into his cheeks as he stared up at you with wide eyes. 

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” 

He nodded. 

“You gonna make me feel good?” 

He nodded again. 

“Good,” you murmured before kissing him senseless, letting your moans be muffled by his lips against yours as you reached down to stroke his cock. He whined and bucked against your touch, letting out a pathetic whimper when you squeezed his tip before you slowly sunk down on him, eyes falling shut and curse words leaving your parted lips. 

“Shit,” he hissed, squeezing your hips as he watched himself disappear inside you. “You feel…so fucking good, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, Remus,” you breathed out, nails digging into his shoulders but he couldn’t even bring himself to care about the sting of pain. Not when you were squeezing around his cock, making the werewolf whine in response. “That’s it, baby, let me hear it.”

The idea of silencing charms and spells were the last thing on either of your minds. It wouldn’t take long to do, maybe less than thirty seconds. But you would be lying if he didn’t fucking love the idea that anybody could walk through that fire door and catch you both. That anybody could come out here and see the flustered, needy boy beneath you. That anybody could see the way he begged for your touch, your kisses, your filthy words whispered in his ear.

“Remus,” you moaned, your words seeming to get choked up in your throat as you bounced up and down on his cock, as you listened to the way he whined about how good you felt. “Fuck, that’s it, baby, just like that.” 

He could feel the way you were clenching around him. He could see the way your eyes were fluttering shut, breathless remarks made as you tried to catch your breath but he knew you were struggling. Your legs starting to shake and your nails digging further into skin and you were close, so fucking close but you just—” 

“Shit!”

You could barely comprehend the wizard below you as he lifted you, his hips bucking up into you at a relentless speed that made it difficult to fight the orgasm washing over you. You whined as he kept going, kept fucking you as stars started to dance in your vision and your muscles tensed but he never stopped. Never stopped fucking you until you were whining his name. 

Your hands laid on his chest, your own lungs heaving for air as you rolled your hips against his, biting back the whimpers of pleasure that wanted to escape. “You didn’t—”

“Wanted to make you feel good,” he whispered as he kissed you, soft and chaste kisses that were pressed along your neck and chest as he continued to speak. “Wanna see you come again. You look so pretty when you come.” 

“Fuck,” you murmured as his hands on your hips started to move you on his cock again. “Remus, I can’t—”

“Shhh, relax,” he whispered between kisses. “Let me make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart.” 

And you didn’t have it within you to argue when he shifted you with unreasonably ease, picking you up like you weighed nothing until your back was pressed against the tattered leather sofa and he was crawling above you, kissing up your stomach and between your tits before he met your lips once again. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist like instinct, ankles locked behind his back as he slowly guided his cock back inside you with a guttural groan, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he slowly began to thrust. 

“Right there, baby, right there,” the words left your lips in breathless praises, seeming to spur the boy on as he gripped your hips, his tempo speeding up shit. “Shit, yes!” 

“Fuck,” Remus whined, his cock hard and desperate for release. He didn’t know how much longer he could last inside you, last with your nails raking down his back and face scrunched up as your second orgasm was so close. He couldn’t help himself as a hand disappeared between your bodies, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit and watching as your lips parted in a silent scream as you came, him following you seconds after. 

It took you a few minutes to ground yourself. To catch your breath and open your eyes, taking in your surroundings before you glanced down at the boy laying on your chest, his arms wrapped around you and soft kisses pressed on your skin that made your heart swell. 

“Did you really throw your joint on the floor?” 

The question caught you off guard before you laughed, your fingers running through his hair before he lifted his head up to look at you. “Want another hit?” 

“No, I just—” Remus flashed you a sheepish smile. “I felt bad, don’t want you to waste it.” 

“You’re quite adorable, aren’t you?” you commented casually, and despite the fact this boy had just given you two of the best orgasms of your life, he still had the audacity to blush at the simple compliment. 

“Thank you,” he murmured before pausing. “I think.”

“It was a compliment, Remus,” you hummed as you pushed some of his hair away from his face, eyes scanning the small details you hadn’t noticed before. The small scars you couldn’t see unless you were up close, or the freckles sprinkled along the bridge of his nose or apples of his cheeks. “More people oughta tell you how pretty you are.” 

He let out a slightly nervous laugh. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty before.” 

“Tragic,” you muttered before smiling at him. “I guess I gotta change that.” 

His mood seemed to perk up a little. “You mean like…you’d wanna do this again?” 

“You don’t?” you teased.

“No, I do!” he blurted out before clearing his throat. “I-I would love to see you again.” 

“Good, because I wanna see how many other pretty ways I can make you blush, baby.”

And fuck, there were many ways a girl as pretty as you could make Remus Lupin blush.

.

[closetsof-backlogged-dreams]

merthur fic recs: sof's masterlist

(inspired and encouraged by the ever-lovely @dreamingthroughtokyoskies <33 ilysm babes)

hello, there! these are fifteen fics that i've collected over the years as my favorite merthur fics of all time. they come in all sorts of genres and lengths and vibes, so buckle up!!

Sorcerers & Knights, and their long-lost Prince by DracoWillHearAboutThis [30k, 9/9]

"Can't you watch where you're going?!" Arthur snapped. 

"You ran into me!" the other man exclaimed, incredulous, and Arthur stilled because he knew that voice. And that accent.

He looked up and found himself face to face with a flushed, indignant Merlin Emrys, tour shirt drenched with coffee. Bloody hell.

"That shirt is Dior," was all that came out of Arthur's mouth, without his permission, and the singer's face hardened.

"Well, bugger for you," Merlin snapped. "Might have to wear off the rack, for a change, like the rest of us. Maybe the money you saved with that could go to your precious charity."

Arthur blinked, the blow of the other man's words not even hitting him before he heard Gwen Smith shriek from down the corridor.

"Merlin! You can't say that to the Prince of Wales, oh my God!"

Merlin is the lead singer of the popular British band called Sorcerers & Knights. Arthur is the Prince of Wales. Their paths cross and destiny unfolds.

fellow merthur/rwrb fans rejoice, this is practically a rwrb AU! except Merlin is the lead singer of a rock band, Sorcerers & Knights, and Arthur is the prince of Wales. the romance between the two of them is so insanely sweet, and i love all the outside commentary from the rest of the cast:)) i also recommend literally anything else by DracoWillHearAboutThis !!

Caesura by StormDancer [52k, 1/1]

Merlin is a writing prodigy with the world's most angsty case of writer's block; Arthur is an overachieving Econ major struggling to escape his father's shadow. Together, they fight crime!

Well, no, they don't. But they do fall in love.

College AU where Merlin is an undiagnosed unmedicated ADHD anonymous prodigy author who takes a course on his own work, meets Arthur, a fan, and they fall in love?? omg. on another note, Merlin's characterization in this fic is INSANE! he's giving deranged thought daughter and im obsessed

all ye faithful by schweet_heart [26k, 1/1]

After an eight and a half year absence, Arthur returns to his father’s house for Christmas, determined to find some closure and finally let go of the past. Merlin, as ever, gives him a reason to hold on.

wow. this fic. there's just so many good things to say about it, but i'll start with the beautiful depiction of parental abuse. Uther isn't physical, and he never does anything too obviously harmful, but it's the little things he says and the overall toxicity of his presence. and then the way he acts with Mordred, Morgana's son, while Arthur watches and wonders why his father never treated him like that?? it's brilliant. absolutely brilliant. the whole fic is a small town AU where Merlin and Arthur were together in secret and broke up as teenagers, and meet again when Arthur comes home. everything about this fic, from the breaking-up-and-making-up to the beautiful depiction of abuse, is so amazing.

Of Lemon Drops and Lizard-Cats by supercalvin [26k, 2/2]

When Inspector Arthur Pendragon went into work that morning he didn’t expect to get on the bad side of an attractive paramedic whose dessert-related insults were surprisingly scathing. Then the same man turned up at the police station, with a clever glint in his eye and his daughter in his arms.

When Merlin Emrys became a single father he made one simple rule: he wouldn’t date until Aithusa was old enough to understand. Merlin had always had his hands full with his daughter and never had a problem with this rule until Arthur stepped into his life. Then everyone he knew started conspiring against him.

single dad paramedic Merlin?? smitten detective Arthur?? mutual pining but self-forbidden romance?? it's amazing. and the domesticity of this fic... let's just say i finished it and couldn't stop thinking about families for the next week. the outside commentary from the rest of the cast in the department is top tier, and Aithusa as Merlin's daughter is the absolute cutest thing

wanna be your end game (my youth is yours) by ladililn [63k, series]

Merlin grows up in Buckingham Palace. Unfortunately, so does Arthur.

this fic is actually a series, and it's genuinely so adorable i have no words. them?? growing up together?? badgering and arguing and teasing?? but truly being there for one another, always, when it came down to it?? elite. the absolute greatest. and their completely oblivious mutual pining never fails to make me giggle <3

after the storm (are you leaving) by Imagined, Scarlet_Ribbons [60k, 6/6]

“Gorwin is my King,” Merlin says, golden eyes fixed flatly on Arthur. “And I work for him. That’s what it says.”

“That’s what what says?” Arthur all but roars, wishing he had a sword just so that he could swing it at something. He needs to let all of this anger at something, anything, he’s just not sure at what and he doesn’t really care anymore.

“The treaty you signed."

Or:

Arthur lends Merlin's aid as a sorcerer to an allied kingdom. He doesn't expect to find Merlin, two years later, in shackles, and only a mere echo of the person he used to be.

this fic is beyond devastating. a warning that it is extremely dark, with a lot of addiction and (non-sexual) slavery. overall, though, it's so beautiful. the way that Arthur forces himself to allow Merlin to leave, and then finds him absolutely destroyed?? then stands by his side through all of it and never gives up on him?? such a beautiful fic, as well as everything else written by these two authors

secrets i have held in my heart by arthur_pendragon [20k, 8/8]

Merlin carves himself into Arthur’s soul while the song of summer trails behind them in the sultry air; while the trees haggle with the sun over the price of autumn — separation. Arthur will forever remember this week in which he obtained his heart’s desire and had it ripped away from him.

wow ok so i'm really not exaggerating when i say this is the best fic i've ever read in my life—it's so heart-stoppingly beautiful and painful and the writing is gorgeous and genuinely i don't even know how to communicate how good this fic is. it's friends-with-benefits but also secret-mutual-pining and angsty and hurtful and ahhhh. so so so good.

Next to You (It's the Rule) by LunaMyLove [62k, 8/8]

Arthur and Merlin have a special relationship. They always have, even when they were prince and servant. While many question it when first noticing, eventually it becomes an understanding in Camelot—and even among some other countries—that where there is Arthur, there is Merlin. And, where there is Merlin, there is Arthur.

Or

Arthur and Merlin's relationship as witnessed and explained by others.

Also, or

Five times someone realizes that Merlin is the Queen, one time Merlin realizes it himself, and one time he owns it.

this is one of the funniest fics i've ever read! if you're familiar, it's very reminiscent of CaffeinatedFlumadiddle's writing. Merlin and Arthur's relationship is hilarious, very mischievous-cat and cat-owner. i also adore Mordred in this fic—he's so squishy and adorable idkidk

since we're alone, you can show me your heart by isolationqueen [7k, 1/1]

Going on a month long road trip though Europe with Arthur is probably a terrible idea. Only, Merlin has never been able to say no to Arthur.

modern road trip AU my beloved!! ughh i love the bitchy pining in this fic, and how protective and jealous Arthur gets. just them going from club to club in all these different places.... so good!! always recommend <3

More than I bargained for by follow_your_fire [27k, 3/3]

Arthur's had enough of hearing about Merlin's unsurpassed bedroom skills from his friends.

There's no way Merlin is better than him, is there?

Well, only one way to find out.

this one is for my porn-with-plot girlies!! Arthur being gay for Merlin is the funniest thing ever, and watching him be so bewildered and confused the entire fic but covering it up so that Merlin doesn't suspect a thing is top tier. and then Merlin being soft?? and loving?? and fluffy?? and then Arthur just doesn't know what to do..... SO GOOD!!

A Collapsing Star With Tunnel Vision by objectlesson [8k, 1/1]

“Perhaps we are doing her a favor then,” he says, pausing to chew the inside of his cheek before adding in a measured, careful voice. “I wouldn’t want to live without my love, either.”

Arthur whips around in the saddle to stare at him, eyes hard and dark, like the storm clouds building on the distant horizon. “What love? You haven’t got a love,” he snaps, like he’s the sole keeper of all Merlin’s secrets.

'Arthur acting different with Merlin alone than he does with the knights' my beloved!! this fic is so poetic and beautiful, with Arthur being ugly and mean but so in love and Merlin is equally so ahhhhh. so insanely good. lots of monster hunting and metaphorical discussions. im obsessed with this fic you don't even understand

Nicest Thing by idlestories [19k, 1/1]

Arthur has been best friends with Merlin since they were eleven, and in love with him since they were sixteen and he realised what that was. Too afraid to risk the friendship, he's resigned himself to never telling him how he feels.

Now, high school has just ended, it's their last summer together before university, and Arthur? Arthur is just trying not to think about it.

Featuring: loneliness, pining, drunk Merlin, driving lessons, and more than a few poorly-executed teen movie clichés. Covers June-December the year they start university.

this fic is so criminally underrated it makes me homicidal. one of my top three favorite fics of all time, do you understand me? it's so. it's so good. the pining?? the yearning?? the split as they go to different unis?? the summery poeticism of the writing?? i'll never get over this fic. i think about it every day. amazing.

time, mystical time by andiwriteordie [17k, 1/1]

Finally, the man tears his gaze away and meets Arthur’s eyes once more. “I seek the aid of your Camelot,” he says, but his voice sounds more hesitant now, as if he’s had to change his response for some strange reason.

Merlin can’t help but believe that reason is him.

“As for who I am,” the man says with a bit of a chuckle, and he glances around the room again at familiar faces, at his friends. “I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.”

Or:

When a mysterious stranger shows up to Camelot claiming to be Arthur from the future and seeking help for his sick consort, Merlin learns some things about himself, about Arthur, and about a future he never dreamed was possible.

Arthur from the future time travels back in time to find Merlin, the only person powerful enough to save his cursed consort, an older Merlin?? i physically cannot. this fic is so good. shows two sides of the same coin (ha): Merlin and Arthur, established with Merlin's magic out and proud, and then Merlin and Arthur, unestablished and Merlin's magic still a careful secret. and Morgana in this fic is elite!! she's absolutely hilarious and completely done with merthur's bullshit

For Want of a Nail by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf [235k, 44/44]

Fleeing from Essetir in the bloody beginnings of the Purge, Hunith finds herself on the doorstep of old friends. That's all it takes to untangle the skeins of destiny and weave a new tapestry.

long fic alert!! but oh my god i love this fic. Leon being Merlin's older brother?? elite. Arthur and Merlin going through angsty mutual pining?? top tier. and then later on, this fic features probably my favorite OC of all time: Bellegere, Arthur's cousin and Agravaine's daughter. i love her so much and you can pry her out of my cold dead fingers. just such a good fic!!

what is this feeling by redkay [13k, 1/1]

“Get out of my sight, and don’t come back until you can prove to me why I should allow you to remain in my service.”

Merlin stares at Arthur, confused. His tone was ominous, and it certainly sounded like a threat, but Merlin can’t quite work out what part is supposed to have him shaking in his boots. He’s halfway back to Gauis’ chambers when it dawns on him: Arthur actually thinks this stupid, degrading job is something he would be willing to fight for - as though Merlin’s life wouldn’t be complete without the honor of scrubbing the sheets Arthur manages to soil on a disturbingly regular basis.

In which it takes Merlin a bit longer to warm up to Arthur than it does in canon, but he gets there in the end.

we deserve more of Merlin being genuinely bitchy and pissy at Arthur!! the show really did make him Arthur's #1 fangirl wayyy too quickly, but this fic fixes that right up. it's so funny, but so heart-touching at the same time. a classic <3

wow, this list is so long overdue it's insane, but i think this was the right time to finally put it out there. i hope you like these fics!!

[siriuslylu]

𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 - 𝗷𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗹𝘂𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗶𝗰 - word count: 746

Regulus is not used to sharing his feelings outloud, is not that he doesn’t feel things, it’s just that he was raised in a very closed household, never getting kind words from his parents, not being able to tell Sirius because that was a sign of weakness.

So is not that he doesn’t feel love, is just he’s not used to expressing it loud and proud like James does.

But he’s been wanting to say this for a long time, he’s been holding onto this for far too long, James deserves to know, and he deserves to be able to say it without feeling like he’s doing something wrong.

He knows it’s mutual, but James won’t say it first, because he doesn’t want Regulus to feel pressured, into either feeling it or reciprocating. What James doesn’t know is that he’s very much reciprocated, and Regulus has been biting his tongue for a long time already, fighting his inner demons, trying to push his mother’s voice out of his head making him backtrack every time.

The thing with Regulus is that, when he does show his emotions, he gets all flustered and awkward, and so he’s mistaken for being angry or upset. So it’s quite funny to Evan and Barty when they find him in front of a mirror practicing saying those three words, with a deep frown and a little bit meaner than it should be. In return, they get hexed, but it was worth it since it’ll never happen again in their lifetimes.

So now, here he is, laying on the grass with his boyfriend, late at night, watching the stars. James is asking him about constellations, and Reg decides this is it.

”James”

”Yeah?”

”I-“

But words won’t come out

”I want… I feel…”

”Yes?”

James turns his head, looking at him softly, and the moment he stares back, he feels suddenly calm, because this is what loving James Potter feels like, is tranquility, is feeling safe, and loved, and cared, is feeling like you could do anything in the world. Still, he looks back at the sky and points to his star.

”Regulus, right there, it’s the brightest star in the Leo constellation. It’s also known as “the heart of the lion”, and every year, the sun meets up with it, and we kind of rise and fall together”

He looks at James for a minute, finding nothing but pure love in his eyes.

”You and me, we are not only meant to be together on Earth, but also in the sky, forever, and I’ll always be your heart, and will shine brighter than anyone, to make you feel cared” he looks up again, swallowing a lump because he can’t say it looking right at him, what if he laughs at him?

”Reg…” James says breathless

”I love… you… James”

”Reg” gasps again

“If you don’t…”

”I do! Oh Merlin, I so do!”

”Well then?” getting all nervous and frowning now “say it back”

He hears James laughing at his side, oh he knew this was bound to happen, he-

“Regulus.”

He stops, because he was gonna flee, fight or flight they say, but he could never fight James.

”Look at me”

He does

”Regulus Arcturus Black, don’t you dare tell me you love me and escape from me”

He says grabbing his hand, turning to his side and caressing his cheek as if it’s the most precious thing to exist

”I love you Reg, you’ll always be my entire heart, my brightest star, and I want to rise and fall with you every day for the rest of my life, not just for a while.”

”Really?”

”Really. Would you say it again?”

”No” looking up flustered, James only exhales a laugh, but then “Yes, I love you”

”I love you”

Silence, the comfortable one, the one you enjoy because it’s filled with everything he can’t say just yet, but they both know already, he might not be able to fully express how he feels, but he’s trying, because his boyfriend deserves it and he does too, and he’s allowed to feel, so he turns and leans in, and places the softest kiss, because there’s nothing he loves more than kissing James Potter, except maybe James Potter himself

”I’m so telling Sirius you said I’m your brightest star, he’s gonna lose it”

”Reg! No! Please!”

He laughs before being trapped in his lover’s arms, and he’s shinning when they conjunct, they both are.

[kissme-withyour-cherrylipstick]

Merry Kissmas, Day 24—Christmas Eve

Arthur is pretty sure now. The events of the last three days have been enlightening.

Merlin feels it too.

He wanted nothing more than to tell Merlin that it was okay, that he had nothing to be sorry for, that Arthur wanted the second kiss too. And a third and a fourth and—

He heaves a sigh as he stands in his kitchen on Christmas Eve morning, waiting for his coffee to brew. There is no work today, but he’s going to Morgana’s Christmas Eve party tonight, which will be in the office, and Merlin will be there.

He didn’t get a chance to tell Merlin anything yesterday. It seemed far too private to say in front of anyone else, and he worried Merlin would be too afraid to meet him in his office again. He considered texting and that was how he realized he didn’t know what to say. Well. He knew what to say, but every way he could think to say it sounded weirdly pathetic. Then he started to doubt if it was the right thing to do at all.

Maybe this is just what it's like when you kiss someone every single day for twenty-three days. Maybe he would have fallen in love with anyone if he did this with them. He certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with Merlin of all people.

This is the doubt he’s been wrestling with, but somehow he knows it’s not true. Somehow he knows this is real.

He knows because of how he always looks forward to Merlin’s kiss. How he always finds himself smiling when he thinks about Merlin, which he does a lot now. The warmth that spreads through him whenever he looks at Merlin, his tousled hair, his ears, the line of his neck, his dirty shoes that are completely inappropriate for an office setting.

He supposes he’s always been a little bit in love with Merlin. But this past month has really brought it to his attention.

At a loss for what else to do, Arthur calls Morgana.

“Hey, Morgana,” he greets, “I was just wondering... is Merlin coming to your party tonight?”

“Yes, as far as I know,” she answers.

“So he hasn’t told you that he won’t be coming after all?”

“Why, is there some reason you don’t want him to come?”

“No, I want him to come. I really want him to come.”

“Is there some reason you think he won’t?” When he doesn’t respond, she continues, “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Er....”

Morgana sighs. “Does this have anything to do with the weird game you two have been playing?”

“How do you know about that?

“Gwen.”

“She told you?”

“I have a right to know when you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“I should never have done any of that stuff in front of her.”

“Oh, she told me about the ones you didn’t do in front of her.”

“Ugh. Merlin. Is there no such thing as privacy?”

“So what’s the problem? Have you fallen in love?”

Arthur is silent.

“Oh my god, you have. Oh, Arthur,” and a hint of humanity slides into her voice, underneath a thousand layers of irony and condescension. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, that’s why you called, you want advice.”

“No, no I don’t want your advice.”

“My advice is simple: follow your heart. Do what it is that you want to do.”

“That’s your advice? Why?”

“Because, I’m pretty sure Merlin wants you as much as you want him and I want him to be happy.”

“You really think that?”

“Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. God only knows why.”

“Thanks, Morgana,” Arthur says, then his sincerity runs dry. “I still think this is a trap.”

She laughs.

He hangs up.

In his own shitty flat that gets shittier the longer he stays at Arthur’s flat, Merlin is also thinking about the last three days and dreading the party tonight. The difference is, he’s still thinking about it in terms of the game. There’s no way he can win, and he doesn’t want to anyway. He thinks a tie would be the most preferable outcome, but at this point, it doesn’t really matter.

Except that Arthur will be insufferable if he wins. And he’ll remind Merlin about it at every opportunity, driving the knife deeper each time. But still, he can’t seem to bring himself to care.

Let him kiss me , he thinks, brooding into his morning tea. I want him to kiss me .

He spends the day dreaming about what it will be like and planning his reaction to it. He has every intention of kissing Arthur back. He’s done that several times and nothing has come of it.

As he’s sitting there, spiraling inside his own mind, he gets a phone call from Gwen and immediately answers it, desperate for anything. “Hello.”

“Hi, Merlin, are you busy?”

“No.”

“Would you like something to do?”

“Yes, please. God, yes.”

“Wow. Okay. I’m helping Morgana decorate for the party tonight and we could use an extra set of hands. And someone taller.”

“I’ll be right there.” He hangs up, leaps off of his chair, and gets ready in minutes flat. He already has his outfit picked out: black jeans that he thinks make his arse look good and an “ugly” Lord of the Rings Christmas jumper with all four hobbits on it.

“That was fast,” Gwen greets him at the door. She’s wearing a red velvet off-the-shoulder dress with her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck except for a couple ringlets that frame her face.

“You look amazing,” Merlin says, taking her in.

“Thank you.” She looks down. “I like your jumper.”

“Thanks.” They hug, and her embrace fills him with a sense that maybe everything will be okay.

“We’re in here.” She leads him further into the building where the party will take place, in the employee break room on the first floor and the wide open space in front of it. It’s a mirror of the second floor where Merlin works and he can’t help but look at and notice all the places that look like the places where he and Arthur have kissed. The front door. The desk that looks just like his. The boss’s office to the side. The table. Against the wall. He tingles at the memories and it makes his heart hurt.

“Lance!” Merlin cries when he sees Gwen’s boyfriend helping Morgana with decorations.

“Merlin!” Lance cries, then comes over and gives Merlin a hug.

“Long time no see,” Merlin grins.

“Yes, too long.”

“Hi, Merlin,” greets Morgana, who is stunning as usual in a green dress, her glossy black hair cascading over one shoulder. She wraps her arms around him and he feels blessed by her presence.

“Wait, I thought you said you needed someone tall,” Merlin says to Gwen, glancing at Lance who is roughly the same height as Merlin.

“We could use two tall people,” she says.

“I can give you a boost and you can help me with these,” Lance says, holding up some artificial mistletoe sprigs.

Merlin looks annoyed at Gwen. “Seriously?”

“Sorry,” she winces.

Merlin shakes his head and turns to help Lance. After Lance gives him a boost and he hangs the mistletoe, he slides down in his arms and they’re left standing together underneath it, looking into each other’s eyes. Merlin blushes, then lets go of Lance, pulls away, grabs Gwen, and throws her into Lance’s arms.

“Hi,” she blinks, grabbing his shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiles, looking at her with the most loving expression.

Merlin watches as they kiss, his smile fading after a moment, wishing he could have the same thing with Arthur.

He feels Morgana’s hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Merlin. I have a good feeling about tonight.”

“Oh yeah? What do you know about it?”

“I know.” And there is a strange twinkle in her eye that gives him an unfathomable sense of hope.

Arthur always arrives fashionably late to Morgana’s Christmas Eve party, but tonight he finds himself impatient and eager to get there, so, after delaying his arrival as long as he can stand, he shows up less than an hour after it ostensibly started.

It appears to be in full swing; there are many people there, most of whom he knows, but there’s really only one person he wants to see.

“Hello, dear brother,” Morgana greets in her sarcastically sweet tone, coming at him from the left and putting her arm around him, a glass of what is probably champagne in her other hand.

“Hello, Morgana,” he sighs, slipping his arm around her waist halfheartedly.

“Merlin’s over there.” She points with her glass and Arthur sees Merlin’s dark hair just poking out above the heads of some other people whose faces he tunes out as he hones in on Merlin.

His palms sweat and his breathing is shallow as he makes his way into the breakroom where Merlin is standing beside a spread of Christmas desserts and, to Arthur’s dismay, is talking to Gwaine, looking very excited to be doing so.

Merlin turns when Arthur comes close and immediately looks annoyed. “Oh, of course you’re wearing a Lord of the Rings jumper. And of course it’s that one.”

Arthur looks down at Merlin’s chest and notices he is also wearing a Lord of the Rings jumper. “What’s wrong with this?” he asks, indicating his own jumper, with the White Tree of Gondor on it.

“You’re wearing that because you fancy yourself Aragorn.”

“And you fancy yourself Frodo.”

“Frodo is the main character.”

“And Aragorn is the rightful king of Gondor.”

They stare at each other in hostility for a moment, before Merlin breaks it with a smile, and Arthur has to smile back. “It is a pretty cool jumper.”

“Thanks. I like yours too.”

“Thanks. Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hi, Arthur,” says Gwaine as Merlin turns to fill a champagne flute for Arthur.

“Oh. Hi, Gwaine.”

“Looking forward to tonight?”

“Yeah, it should be fun.”

“I’ll meet you under the mistletoe.” He winks.

“No, you won’t.”

“I’m sure someone will.”

Just then, Merlin hands him his champagne. “Morgana always has the best drinks,” Merlin says. “She has some new purple... punch or something over there.”

“What’s in it?” Arthur asks.

“I dunno.”

“Is it good?”

“I dunno, is it, Gwaine?”

Gwaine takes a drink from his cup. “Very.”

“A bit of advice, for both of you,” Arthur says. “Don’t trust Morgana.”

“I trust her more than I trust you,” Merlin says.

“Oh yeah?” Arthur says, and steps closer to Merlin, who shrinks away just visibly, and Arthur fights the need to back off because Merlin is being ridiculous. “What do you think I’m gonna do to you?”

Arthur sees Merlin’s Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “I dunno. What are you gonna do to me?” He stands up straighter, practically daring Arthur to kiss him.

Arthur barely manages to tear his eyes away from Merlin’s lips. “Nothing.” He steps back and turns toward the table full of Christmas treats. He picks something up without even knowing what it is and puts it in his mouth. A biscuit.

“Well,” says Gwaine. “I guess I’ll see who else I can trap under the mistletoe.”

Merlin is surprised by how normal his and Arthur’s interactions are that night. All his anxiety melted away when he saw Arthur and they fell into their usual banter. They are inseparable all night. They eat. They dance. They drink. But still, Arthur doesn’t try to kiss him.

Merlin can’t understand why. Arthur would win. He’s got nothing to lose and everything to gain. It’s like he doesn’t want to win. It drives Merlin mad, and he’s torn between drinking as much as he can and staying sober so he can enjoy Arthur’s kiss when it does come.

The night creeps by and still it doesn’t come.

Finally, a slow song comes on and people are actually slow dancing to it. Lance is of course a great dancer and Merlin watches him and Gwen for a moment before Arthur approaches.

“Are you going to dance with me on this one?” he asks, slipping his arms around Merlin’s waist.

A spark crackles through Merlin’s body at the touch and his arms are circling Arthur’s shoulders before he can stop them. “Yes,” he hears himself say.

Arthur smiles at him as they begin to sway and Merlin can’t help but smile back as it goes on. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Arthur’s. They are the only two people in the world and it feels so strange but so right, moving like this.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Arthur asks after long moments stretch out before them.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t tried to kiss me at all. You could tie, you know.”

“I don’t want to tie.”

“Why not?”

This is the moment. Arthur is so close and Merlin could tell him everything, but as he stands on the precipice, he finds he is too cowardly.

Merlin is driving Arthur insane . They are together the whole night, so close they are almost touching, then when they do eventually touch, Merlin won’t tell him what he wants. Maybe it’s all the other people around.

He steps away from Merlin before the song is over and gives him a hard look. Merlin looks surprised, apprehensive even. Arthur looks around for an escape route, sees a broom closet, takes Merlin’s hand, and drags him in there, closing the door behind them.

“A closet? Really?” comes Merlin’s voice in the dark.

“Hang on, I think there’s a light in here.” Merlin is leaning against the wall and Arthur has to reach behind him to find the switch. When the light turns on, he’s crowding Merlin up against the wall.

“What are you doing, Arthur?”

“You have not tried to kiss me all night. Why?”

Merlin’s look of indignation fades into something far sadder until he looks so completely miserable it makes Arthur feel like a terrible person for having done this to him. His arms are crossed, protecting himself from Arthur, but he goes slack, leaning against the wall, all possible traces of anger gone. “You know why.”

All Arthur can hear is his own breathing as he takes it in. He does know why. He’s known it for days. He feels it himself. Neither of them care about this stupid game anymore. It’s gone so far beyond that, it’s impossible to even remember what that was like.

Arthur closes his eyes, then opens them. “Let’s tie.”

“Hm?” Merlin’s brow quirks hopefully.

Arthur takes Merlin’s shoulders in his hands and leans even closer. “I don’t care about the game,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “I just want you. Let’s tie.”

Then Merlin is leaning forward and Arthur has felt his kiss before, in fact, he’s felt this exact fervor behind it, but this time it is unbound by any pretense and Merlin tilts fully into it, grabbing Arthur and holding him close, so close it’s as if he can’t get close enough, their entire bodies pressed together in the closet, and Arthur finally lets himself go too, exploring Merlin’s mouth like he’s always wanted to and it’s warm, heat spreading like fire throughout his body at every contact point between him and Merlin. He pushes forward, crushing Merlin against the wall because he really can’t get close enough.

He has to pull away for breath and to look at Merlin, flushed and disheveled and beautiful in the harsh lighting.

It is far more than Merlin ever hoped for. Even with all the assurances from his friends and his decision to just let it happen and how seemingly romantic Arthur is being, his heart soars like he can’t believe when Arthur says, “I just want you.”

It is like a dream and despite how dirty it probably is in that closet, Arthur’s kiss is pure and right and sets Merlin alight his entire body over and there is nowhere he’d rather be than between Arthur and that wall. He tastes like biscuits and peppermint and champagne and love.

When Arthur finally breaks away, he is glowing. Even the fluorescent lighting loves him.

Arthur strokes Merlin’s face with his thumb. “You are so beautiful, Merlin,” he says breathlessly. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Merlin swallows. “Me too.”

“Now that it’s finally over,” he says, nosing Merlin’s cheek, “I wanna take you home,” a kiss to his jaw, “and I won’t stop until there isn’t an inch of you I haven’t kissed.”

“What? You don’t just say things like that.”

“I do now.” He presses closer to Merlin and a surge of arousal flows through his body like never before.

“Oh god, yes,” Merlin breathes. “Arthur. I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“You’ve waited this long, what’s a few more minutes?”

“An eternity.”

Arthur kisses him again and it’s the first kiss that is free from the confines of the game. It’s strong and it’s sweet and so quintessentially Arthur. Merlin is thrilled yet not surprised at all that he knows it so well.

As they duck out of the closet, saying a rushed goodbye to the party in general, Gwaine can be heard saying to Gwen, “Finally.”

[pigfacedbitch]

Are You That Dense?

summary : what do they do when their crush is oblivious of their feelings.

word count : 0.5k

type : headcanons

pairing/s involved : Arthur / Merlin / Morgana x Reader

warning/s : it's kinda sad on Merlin's part (at least for me)

here is my masterlist!

Arthur

Arthur would be clueless as you are, maybe even worse.

The prince of Camelot wasn't raised to process his feelings properly (no thanks to dear old daddy), so he thinks his infatuation is under the pretense of friendship.

Many find it hilarious. Everyone knows how much Arthur loves you... except the two of you.

He just doesn't understand why he's always wanting more than the platonic affections you give him, yearning for you when you're not around, or thinking about you all the time.

Don't get me wrong, he knows he enjoys your company. Both his whole world and time stops when he's with you; the heavy responsibilities of the crown and endless problems are temporarily forgotten.

Arthur also feels the need to impress you, sometimes more than Uther. He already likes showing off to a crowd but when you're watching him? There will be 1000x more effort.

"Why do I feel this way, Merlin?"

"You are in love with (Y/N), clotpole."

"Oh. I suppose you're right."

"Is this the moment where you order me to get her flowers?"

"...Yes."

Merlin

I'm sorry but Merlin prefers it that way.

As much as he desperately wants to to straight up confess to you— to be able to touch you, kiss you, and love you openly, he doesn't want to put you in danger.

Apart from a secret that will get him executed, he deals with dark entities all the time and those will eventually catch up to him. He can't risk it, especially if it's you.

There will be a lifetime of labor and hardships if you choose to be with a manservant. Being with a druid will likely get you hurt or killed too. You deserve better than what he can offer. You deserve better than him.

His feelings for you may not be obvious as Arthur's but for people who are perceptive (ehem Gwen maybe?), they will encourage him to court you. He'll only reply that there's no use and you'll never see him as something more than a friend, especially if you're a noble or royalty.

However, Merlin is only human. There will be times when he can't help himself, giving you small gifts or favors he won't do for anyone (even Arthur).

"Thanks for the help, Merlin."

"I would do anything for you, (Y/N)."

"Why?"

"Uhh... Cause we're friends, right?"

Morgana

Morgana will make you her own amusement.

Best believe she will test you, to see how long can you remain unaware of her feelings. It entertains her to no end, better than the performers Uther hires in banquets.

She will go all out— giving you all sorts of touches that's reserved for lovers, bringing you expensive presents, always spending time with you, and even kissing you in both public and in private.

Morgana will search for any reaction on your face every time. But you just continue to innocently smile and thank her for being a 'good friend'.

Everyone thinks you two are dating because of her public display of affection but you shrug it off whenever someone asks you about it. Morgana, on the hand, just smirks and winks.

If it takes too long and she begins to get impatient, she will just knock on your door and confess her love.

"I am in love with you, (Y/N)."

"You are?"

"YES! How can you be so blind—"

"I thought we're just friends?"

"HOW IS MAKING OUT WITH YOU, PLATONIC?"

Until then, she and Gwen will be laughing at your obliviousness as they enjoy their afternoon tea.

[cuffmeinblack]

Smile In Your Sleep

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC (she/her)

Tags: explicit | non-con | somnophilia | dark!Sebastian | delusional thoughts

3.1k words

Summary: Sebastian watches her when she sleeps, safe in his arms as she seeks comfort from her nightmares. Beautiful, perfect, and utterly irresistible; who could blame him for indulging?

A/n: *sweats* I'm so sorry, Seb. I made him completely delulu and predatory, this boy is fucked up.

When had merely watching her sleep become not enough? Sebastian pondered the question as he lay in bed, willing her to crawl in with him through some hitherto unheard of telepathy; a cruel thought, as she only ever did so when suffering from particularly horrendous nightmares. He missed her warmth, particularly on these cold Winter nights, though he was restless when she did make an appearance.

He closed his eyes, picturing her laying next to him—eyes shut, her dark eyelashes fluttering as she dreamed, cheeks flushed from the heat under the heavy duvet and those kissable lips just barely parted to aid soft breaths. His memory conjured images of the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath those gorgeous breasts that regularly featured in his own dreams. Sebastian gripped his aching length, his clothes long banished as he lay in the confines of his bed. He lingered on the thought of pushing himself into her mouth, parting those lips further as he slid down her throat. In his fantasies, she didn't react; merely lay still, statuesque, perfect as he violated her.

"F-fuck…," he stuttered as he came hard, spilling over his hand and stomach.

The shame that so usually flooded his mind had gradually dulled over the weeks, making way for a resignation that this was no passing phase. What bothered Sebastian now wasn't the activities he conducted in private—that was his own business, after all—it was the desire to act out his fantasies, growing ever stronger each time she made his way to him during those hard nights. That spurred his guilt, more so because she was particularly vulnerable in those moments, being subjected to horrors she begged him to be able to forget.

He cleaned himself up with a sigh before heading to the shower for a more thorough cleanse, though it did nothing to wash away the unease settling in his stomach. Once dressed, he walked down to the common room with Ominis, spotting her leaning casually by the window and prompting his insides to squirm. She greeted them cheerily as they approached, running her fingers through her hair to sweep it out of her face, like some sort of temptress meant only to torture Sebastian. It was no secret that he found her attractive, except maybe to the woman herself, but not a living soul knew the depths of his depravity when it came to his lustful thoughts.

As she sat across the table from him at breakfast, he felt as if she could read his mind the way her eyes seemed to scrutinise everything he did, and he silently prayed to Merlin that she wasn't a secret legilimens.

"You okay, Seb?" she asked.

Sebastian smiled and nodded, heaping porridge into his bowl and shovelling it into his mouth to avoid speaking. He was far too distracted for small talk, and besides that, he could barely look at her these days without imagining his cock in her mouth.

"How did you sleep?" Ominis asked.

"Better," she smiled with a sigh of relief. "Maybe my nightmares have stopped."

Well, that wouldn't do.

Sebastian peered over his bowl and caught her watching him, her piercing eyes seeming to want to communicate something. Would she be disappointed, too? Would she lament the fact that she no longer had an excuse to sleep next to him?

"That’s good," Sebastian remarked whilst idly stirring more honey into his breakfast.

She hummed in assent, never taking her eyes off him.

-

Not three days later, her presumption was proven false—her nightmares were far from finished tormenting her. She slid into his bed once again, shaking slightly, whether from the cold, shock or fear he couldn't tell. He bundled her into his arms as soon as she hit the mattress, curling into a fetal position as he enveloped her back in a blanket of warmth and calm.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"Yes, I'll be alright. It wasn't as bad as…"

She couldn't finish her sentence, instead lapsing into silence as Sebastian stroked her hair and the last of her sobs subsided. He knew the nightmares she had alluded to; he had them too, sometimes.

She drifted off to sleep quickly, leaving Sebastian once again in an internal struggle between giving into the temptation that roared behind his ribcage, a beast waiting to be sated, and the simple duty of respecting his dearest friend. He told himself that he was disgusting, depraved, a monster, but the words meant nothing as he gazed down at her sleeping form in the dim light, noticing the gentle swell of her breasts underneath her cotton chemise. Her nipple had slipped, tantalisingly close to being exposed by the smallest of shuffles. Once again, Sebastian rationalised his actions, downplaying their gravity—he simply wanted to hasten the inevitable.

Propped on his elbow as he leaned over her, he delicately peeled the fabric down, revealing her soft, pink nipple. Saliva pooled in the well of his mouth as his cock twitched against her perky cheeks, and Sebastian suppressed a groan that would surely wake her. Just a quick touch, then he'd stop. His thumb brushed her nipple, her body responding even in unconsciousness as it formed a stiff peak at his touch. Fuck, he wanted to take it into his mouth, swirl his tongue over that perfect little mound. The thought sent blood rushing away from his head—and whatever part of his brain that was responsible for his self restraint—and straight to his cock.

Sebastian slid a hand under the chemise to gently cup her breast, her flesh perfectly filling his palm. His dark eyes flickered shut as he felt the weight, brushed the silken skin and gently pinched her nipple. Perfect. He was impossibly aroused now, his cock swelling at an alarming rate in his pyjama trousers. The only relief lay in her warm body nestled against him, and the temptation was simply too strong. His eyes opened again to watch her face, for any indication that she was waking as he rolled his hips into her backside.

She was so fucking soft. Her perfect arse moulding around his erection like it was meant for him. Still she slept as he palmed her breast, growing bolder every second with a firmer grip and a harder push of his hips. He wanted to moan into her ear, tell her she was such a good girl, but of course he couldn't; his game was one of stealth and silence. He couldn't stop his heavy breath or involuntary hitches as he grinded gently against her, but it soon became apparent that this gentle caress wouldn't be enough to rid him of his painfully throbbing desire.

Sebastian shuffled back slightly, taking the arm trapped under his body and wrapping his hand around his length with a shudder, whilst his other stayed firmly glued to her breast. He massaged her in rhythm to the strokes he gave his cock, his orgasm building so quickly from just how fucking wrong this was. Still he pumped himself, smearing the slick that dribbled from the tip down his entire length, filling the canopy with wet slapping sounds that were far too loud—but he couldn't stop, he was so close. He looked down at her face once more, eyes fixed on those plump lips so ready for the taking, and she moaned. A gentle sound, almost a breath, as she shuffled on the mattress slightly, bringing her knee higher and face pressed into the pillow.

No, Sebastian couldn't stop the inevitable, not even if he'd tried, which he didn't. He shot his load all over her clothed back, fucking his hand furiously as cum spurted in thick ropes across her pretty cotton chemise. His head was spinning, barely able to breathe from the intensity of his release. It was fucking incredible. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours as he gasped quietly through the pleasure, but eventually he was empty, oversensitive and completely spent. He slumped back on the pillow, looking down at the mess he'd made of his hand and the sheet beneath them, his post-orgasm clarity ruining the perfect moment.

Shit. He removed his hand gently from her breast, pulling the top up to cover her still stiff nipple and groped around outside of the curtain for his wand, trying not to move too much. After an agonising few seconds of patting his nightstand, he finally found it, casting a non-verbal cleaning charm to vanish the soaking mess. It wasn't quite perfect, but he daren't utter the incantation aloud. This was his bed, as such, the slightly crusted layer on his sheet wasn't too much of a problem, but the same couldn't be said of her pyjamas. As she started to stir and the light began filtering through the gap she'd made in the curtain, Sebastian hoped against all odds that she wouldn't notice his shame smeared across her back.

-

Sebastian watched her over breakfast for any indication that she knew what he'd done, but she was apparently none the wiser, her usual self. He thought she may have lingered a little longer on his eyes as she looked at him that morning, her face a tad more flushed than usual, but she said nothing. If she had known, she had decided to allow it, which made Sebastian all the more bolder.

Night after night, she told him her nightmares had returned, though he noted the absence of any tears after a while. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, or a desperate need to justify his actions by telling himself that she wanted this, but he had almost convinced himself that it was true. He'd held back from doing what he really wanted, from truly claiming her whilst she slept, but his apprehension was melting away with every night she willingly found herself in his bed.

"Are you okay?" he asked once again as she lay curled up in his arms.

"Yeah. I'm better now."

Better with me.

She offered herself so willingly, such that the flickering flame of guilt was extinguished the moment her soft snores met his ears. Too beautiful to resist, and so responsive to his touch. His breath ghosted her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps prickling her flesh. Over her shoulder his gaze roamed and his fingers followed, the featherlight touch he employed barely registering to her nerves.

Sebastian’s ear was pricked for any variation in her breathing as he delved under her top, this time a less attractive buttoned shirt; but no matter, it was what lay underneath that counted. His hands provided and her body responded just as he’d hoped. This, he was used to now. This, was safe. He could caress her breasts and barely satisfy himself with his hand, but the allure of what lay next to his throbbing length was what kept him awake even on the nights he spent alone.

He dared to go further even as the bile rose in his throat, planting a kiss on her neck whilst his eyes stayed fixed on her peacefully resting visage. Illuminated by the strip of moonlight cascading through the gently rippling waters, she looked almost ethereal. There could be no snarky comments or irritating little habits; in stillness and silence she was captivating, absolutely perfect.

Another kiss, and another, until his brain was no longer capable of rational thought amongst the onslaught of hormones, and he licked the skin at the crook of her neck. Not a tentative dab with the tip of his tongue but a thick, wet stripe. She tasted of the tang of her perfume and partially of the sweat brought on by her night terrors; so enticingly forbidden. There was no stopping now—he was bordering on crazed, his mind addled with lust and a reckless disregard for any consequences.

His hand slid down her clothed back as he ignored his straining erection; there would be time for that soon. With gentle tugs, he worked on shimmying her pyjama trousers down, the soft skin of her cheeks that brushed his knuckles sending his head spinning. Faster he moved until she was exposed to him, and he took a moment to drink in the soft curves before cupping her behind with both hands.

What he wouldn’t give to dig his fingertips into her flesh, to leave bruises and indents along her hips. His fingers flexed involuntarily at the thought, barely pulling himself back before he acted on the impulse. He needed to be gentle, just like the steady breaths she continued to exhale. His hand glided down, slipping between her thighs where he was greeted by her slick entrance.

Sebastian could have spilled just then, messing his pyjamas from simply feeling her arousal. He took a deep breath as his middle finger gently stroked his prize before slowly pressing inside her. She had no reaction, none whatsoever—both reassuring and deeply disappointing. He was up to his knuckle, teasing her open with strokes of his finger. In the near-silence every squelch was audible, and deliciously obscene.

"So fucking wet for me," he whispered, barely audibly.

She shuddered, and Sebastian flinched and stilled his hand as his heart almost leapt out of his chest. That had been a sudden reaction to his words, not his slow and steady movements. He waited, but her eyes stayed shut and breath remained steady as she appeared to sleep on. Resuming his rhythm, he had the sneaking suspicion that she was at least partially lucid. She was letting this happen.

He slipped another finger inside her, growing steadily more reckless as he felt himself lose control over his desire. The minutes spent preparing her felt like an eternity, but once he was finally satisfied she could handle him, Sebastian was barely holding it together. As his hand wrapped around his cock to guide his way, a tiny moan fell from his lips before he could stop himself. Still she didn't stir, an invitation to continue.

He pressed his head against her dripping entrance and pushed, stopping as just the tip was enveloped in her warmth. So fucking perfect. All Sebastian could think of was filling her up completely, letting her drip his seed onto the sheets as she slept on, completely oblivious. The thought was almost enough to end him, and he willed himself to move, screwing his eyes shut in some pathetic attempt to delay his release.

He was doomed as soon as she began to stir at the first thrust. He moved slowly, gently, but he hit her deep, and those soft, rhythmic breaths became quicker and uneven. And then she moaned. Not a breathy sigh but an exclamation of pleasure that his roommates would no doubt have heard. He wished then that he could delve into her thoughts, to see what her unconscious mind had conjured in response to his intrusion. He was sure that he would see himself, pleasuring her as he did now.

"I'm so fucking close, please let me come," Sebastian whispered in her ear.

He didn't expect a response, at least not a lucid one—even if she'd given him one, he was too far gone to have processed it. The flutter of her walls around his cock was almost too much, and a confirmation that she was enjoying this just as much as he was. Every heavy breath against her neck and every shunt across the mattress brought her further out of her deep sleep. At that point, Sebastian cared very little about what might happen if she did wake, clinging to the belief that she would welcome his advances with open arms.

"Oh…wha-…?"

A confused and hoarse whisper escaped her throat, her eyes still glued shut.

Fuck.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Please say no.

"Don't…don't stop…"

Sebastian willed himself to last just a little longer, not merely seeking his own gratification but determined to have her fall apart by his touch.

"Come on, beautiful…," he encouraged with the smallest whispers.

She was so tight, her muscles gripping his cock as her abdomen clenched under his palm before she reached her climax. She writhed against him with heavy breaths and involuntary moans, the pulsing around his length enough to tip him over the edge with her. Sebastian groaned as he stilled, allowing the grip of her slick cunt to tease every drop of cum from him. The light was too dim to see clearly, but his finger found where they joined and his vision faded to black at the utter euphoria of the feel of his seed dripping from her.

Once the ringing in his ears subsided and he propped himself up on his elbow, he'd half expected her to greet him with a dozy smile, but her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Her body still twitched against him, but her breath was slowing once again, her limbs limp against the mattress. She was still asleep, and whatever words she'd uttered had been a product of her unconcious mind.

Shame washed over him once more, tempered by the knowledge that she'd been dreaming of him. He'd told himself this was the last time, now he'd been satisfied, though she looked even more angelic now that he'd had his way with her—she had a slight sheen of sweat across her deeply blushing skin that glistened tantalisingly in the light from the celestial bodies. Reining in the desire to taste her again, he let her rest, performing his cleanup ritual in silence. His spells were much more effective now, though he hesitated when he pointed his wand at the pool of cum dripping from her violated cunt. He rubbed his fingers into the damp fabric, carving the memory into his brain before it vanished.

Sebastian slept soundly that night, holding her tightly as he waited eagerly for morning.

-

She looked positively elated, if slightly abashed, and Sebastian knew why. She must remember the dream, the mind-blowing orgasm he'd given her—he could practically feel the heat coming off of her.

"What's got you smiling this morning?" Sebastian asked over the breakfast table.

"I had a strange dream, that's all," she said, barely suppressing a smirk as a blush crossed her cheeks.

"Oh? What about?"

She lowered her voice to barely a whisper, casting furtive glances around the table for anyone listening in.

"It was quite scandalous..."

Sebastian looked up at her from his dipped head with a knowing smirk, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Yeah? And who, pray tell, did this dream involve?"

"Garreth Weasley," she giggled.

The colour drained from Sebastian's face and a burning rage coursed through his veins. His mouth formed a hard line as he looked back down at the table and hoped she hadn't noticed his reaction. Oh, last night wouldn't be the last time, not by a fucking long shot—Sebastian's pride wouldn't allow it. He would have her dreams reflecting reality, until she moaned his name in her slumber.

[wslydoxy]

ink-stained hands.

fred weasley x fem!reader

warnings: the readers house isn't specified, and the term princess is used once.

Fred Weasley the ever-charming never-flailing flirt. Always popular around the girls, always having that annoyingly cocky smirk on his face, him and his infuriatingly pretty smile and knee-shaking height. you on the other hand were the girl always writing, always a roll of parchment and ink bottle evident in your hands.

Unbeknownst to you the redhead had a tiny crush on you, "it's microscopical George!" he would defend himself, he just wanted to know why your hands were always filled with books or parchment and as if evidence of them being in your hands prior, ink stains. Whether you acknowledged it or not, when you were in the room the older twin's eyes were always set on you, If it was in curiosity or admiration was unknown to him as well. You just had an aura to you, one that drew him in a way he couldn't explain.

You of course always had seen the redhead and his twin around the school, you saw them yelling in joy after a quidditch game or just after a good prank. A small attraction may have sparked towards the boy but you always swept it under the rug knowing it wouldn't lead anywhere anyway, If only you knew how wrong you were.

No matter how many teasing looks from his friends when you were in the room, it was not enough for the boy to get over his initial nerves to talk to you. but after one extraordinarily good game of quidditch here he was, adrenaline rushing through his veins, in front of your dorm room waiting for you to open the door.

You open the door perplexed, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape “Uh- Fred Weasley, right?” you ask. “Uh yeah, look- listen I see how weird this probably is and I honestly Merlin don't know how else to put this except that you're really pretty and for some reason, you're always distracted writing something or another and it's so infuriatingly attractive how you don't notice anything I do, no matter how I hard I try to get your attention and I think it's adorable how your hands are always stained with the ink you use and how you always have something smart to say in class and how absolutely funny your sarcastic replies are and honestly? I just reallyreallyfancyyou” he spits, chest heaving from the whirlwind of words, saying the last part all in one go.

You look at him eyes fully open, you haven't quite fully processed what the redhead said, after a moment you slowly, quietly question “You fancy..me?” you say your left hand pointing to him then yourself. “Um yeah? is that okay?” he questions his resolve melting slightly with your extended reaction time. “That is more than okay, that is great if u ask me, I would totally love to be liked by you because I totally maybe kinda fancy you too?” you say voice going quiet by the end of the sentence.

By the end of your sentence, you look up to see Fred with a completely cocky smile and his usual confident front back “You fancy me too? How perfect, care to tell me how exactly I caught your eye over a cup of butterbeer this weekend?” the boy is full on leaning on your door frame at this point, quidditch robes still on and quite honestly looked hot right now. “How can I say no to that,” you said smiling up at him. “I'll see you this weekend for the date. and tomorrow for breakfast too? Or will I see you at the after-game party tonight?” he asked joy glazing his features due to your acceptance of the date.

You gave yourself a once over in your pyjamas and messy hair and then shifted your eyes up at him eyes squinted and mouth in a straight line, “Yeah about that, I don't think I'm in the prettiest state right now.” humour evident in your voice, “I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow and definitely for that cup of butterbeer” “Yeah I'll see you tomorrow y/n” he says smiling and looking at you head to toe, checking you out quite openly.

A voice hauntingly similar to Fred's twin is heard calling for Fred to come to the common room, and party full-on rage as the loud music is deafening. “You better get going then yeah? people are waiting for you” you smile beckoning him to go, “yeah I should,” he pauses looking you in the eye “I think you look pretty damn cute, even in your pj's princess” the endearing term whispered leaving you with a slight blush dusting your features, and he was gone before you could reply.

With a shake of your head and an airy laugh, you close the door and go to bed with an ever-present smile just to not sleep most of the night, going over the earlier events that had unfolded seemed to keep you up. Smile still gracing your features as you went to breakfast the next morning, and if you put a little extra effort into your hair and makeup just to have it all messed up in the room of requirement by a certain redhead, no one had to know.

[lowkeyrobin]

Hi! Sorry to annoy you, but can you maybe write a story about Maleficent and Hades's other child? She ( or whatever gender ) is Mal's sister, and they genuinely have a good relationship, but she grew up with Hades. She and Hades were like best friends. She had black and blue hair to match him and her mom. She was neglected by Maleficent, because Maleficent always paid more attention to Mal and in turn it caused a lot of arguments between her and Hades, causing their split up. Fast Forward, the reader, Chloe, and Red go back in time, and the reader sees her parents so in love and happy. She is filled with bitterness seeing them, but also longing, cause she never really got to know her mom. She tried keeping her distance and helping Chloe and Red. Little did she know, she caught her parents attention, who were trying to figure out the confusing person with dark black and blue hair. But the reader mostly got the attention of Maleficent. I don't know what else, except maybe make it angsty, but in the end make it sweet. Again, I kept saying 'she' but it could be gender neutral, if you want of course! I've never requested a story before, so this feels weird. But thank you! :)

this is definitely a long one but it's okay lol ; also dw about sending long reqs (that goes to everyone) but maybe use the small font cause I do go back and look over when I'm writing / it's a bit of a scroll for others but it's totally okay!! ; but I can definitely try to do this, this seems really cool! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; this is kinda one run-on sentence but I really don't care 😔🙏

HADES & MALEFICENT ; a sense of belonging

summary ; as you go back in time to stop qoh's coup, you see your parents at merlins academy and catch attention of them, though they don't know who you are

warnings ; language, mentions/talk of parental neglect / arguing / stuff like that

track ; lonely is the muse, halsey

word count ; 1.2k

masterlist

You didn't go a day without blaming yourself for your parent's breakup. You were never enough for your mom. Never evil enough. You never listened. You were your father's kid, you guessed. Thankfully, you and your sister were still close, your parents never having put a hole in your relationship.

Though, seeing them here, like this, before you and Mal, it made your heart shatter. They were highschool sweethearts. You never knew that.

They seemed so in love, they seemed happy. It was like your entire existence ruined them entirely. Forget the underlying issues between them, you were the problem. You'd always be the problem.

You shouldn't have come. You couldn't fix history. You didn't even know why you lunged at Red while she tried to disarm Chloe. You saw that pocketwatch, you should've assumed it would do something. Though, you wouldn't blame Red, she had good intentions to stop her mother from becoming a tyrant. Messing with time and history would come with consequences, though, you just didn't know how yet.

But it didn't matter in this moment.

As you stand before Maleficent and Hades next to Red and Chloe, all you can feel is the numbness inside your heart. You could feel your heart constricting inside your body, like it was actively shattering here and now. They stand behind Uliana, her hand held in his.

It didn't matter to you that you were one of the first VK's to attend Auradon Prep, or that you helped outsmart Uma and save the king, or that you helped Mal's final decision to open up the Isle for good, you'd forever be a windchime in the window, catching mean, snarky comment that was thrown your way. You would always reassemble yourself to fit the perfect view of how your parents saw you. To Maleficent, a gift from Hades himself, sadly. To Hades, the best kid he could've ever asked for, even if he didn't agree with every decision you'd made in life.

You would just exist to decorate every miserable moment of their lives, including the past now, apparently. You were the muse to their world-renowned painter, the lonely muse who would forever be forgotten after being discarded, ar least to your mother. You couldn't begin to process what awful time paradox you were creating here.

As you walk away, following Chloe and Red back to the dorms to plan, your head hangs low. The past few minutes of actions had been erased from your kind as you blacked out, trapped in your thoughts. Your eyes has glazed over entirely, blindly following the duo you'd been dragged to the past with.

Your mother hissed at the audience who'd witnessed Uliana's fall into the enchanted fountain, something she did to scare you. Thank God she was a lizard now. Hades held his ember tight, his eyes fixed on you as you walked away.

Lonely is the muse.

You didn't know how or why, but you'd caught the attention of your parents.

The following afternoon, you decided to separate from Red and Chloe while they went to visit Bridget in her dorm, needing to borrow some powerful cookbook. You needed some air. You felt so heavy and held down here.

You run a hand over your navy blue and black hair, sitting in front of the fountain alone. You wanted to cry but there was no effort, no amount of emotion, left to do so.

You hated your mother because of how she treated you. You hated because you grieved the fact that you never knew her. She didn't tell you bedtime stories of her wicked past, she didn't teach you spells or how to be evil, you didn't know the damndest thing about her. You were always just a figment of her life to be tossed aside for her golden child, Mal. You spent years trying to become everything she'd ever wanted, and failed. Over and over. You were never enough for her.

You'd caught her attention here though. You were perfectly out of place for her to finally bat an eye to your presence. How ironic.

She slowly approaches from behind, her head slightly tilted, one arm crossed over her chest, her other hand held close to her face. She didn't know what to say, she just wanted to know who you were. You seemed so distantly familiar.

You quickly look over your shoulder, sensing her presence. She always felt like that, she always gave you that sixth sense. You walked on eggshells your whole life because of her. Her presence alone sent shivers up your spine.

"May I ask who you are?" she asks. "Where are you from, exactly?"

You blink, knowing you can't answer wholeheartedly. You couldn't tell her you were her kid, Y/n, one of two that she had with Hades on the Isle of the Lost.

"My name's Y/n. I'm... a transfer student. Far away place" you nod, quickly finding an excuse to give her, hoping she wouldn't see through you.

She slowly nods. "Your hair... I've never seen one of you with such a unique color. It doesn't look very... hero-like"

You glance back at Hades, who leans against a wall out of earshot, tossing his ember about. "Uh, yeah," you awkwardly chuckle. "I wouldn't say I'm a hero."

"Oh?" she smirks, quickly thinking to recruit you for whatever reason.

"I'm not staying for long," you quickly reply.

She nods, her smirk fading away. "Nice meeting you, I guess"

You nod, watching as she spins on her heels, returning to Hades, their hands intertwined as they depart, leaving you at the fountain alone again. You watch as they walk away, feeling the last fragments of your taped-together heart ripping apart.

All you wanted was to save that picture in your mind forever. To see them so content, to see them so proud of themselves. You really did ruin them. You'd ruin them in every timeline, and you couldn't fix it. You'd forever live knowing you broke them apart.

You did that to them.

And all you did was watch.

You knew you belonged with them, you knew you were supposed to be evil and follow in their footsteps. But you failed the moment you were born. Something just threw you off to her.

She couldn't ever love you.

At least she could pretend for Mal.

But what did you get? Nothing. Not even a thank you for trying to give her a second chance in that coronation hall. Not even a glance. You were invisible to her.

But here, you weren't invisible.

She wanted to know your name.

That was the most you'd ever gotten from her in your twenty years of life.

But you couldn't do anything. You couldn't ruin this for them so early on. You couldn't change their story to try and fix yourself. It doesn't work like that, you knew that. But something deep down inside wanted you to just reach out and make the most of it while you could.

You just wanted to know her. You just wanted to feel the warmth of her cold voice congratulating you for stealing candy from a baby or for scaring someone away, or lighting them on fire. It didn't matter. You wanted to make her proud. You watched on for years as Mal was her center of attention. Nothing you did was worthy for her to be proud of.

But here? You could make a difference.

A difference that wasn't worth making.