#how are they a rarepair btw

[lamb-writes]

the rumble where you lay.

pairing. guero x bottles

content. drug mention, police mention, forced proximity, slight d/s dynamics, finger sucking, frottage, marking kink, slight possession

word count. 3.4k

a/n. omg smut for once??? somehow there is no content of them on their own and i think that’s unfair. they should’ve kissed at least once on the show too. for the plot

“Fuck, I’m tired,” Guero groaned, already heading to the driver’s seat of the van. “Prospect, finish up the rest.” 

Bottles, already holding an arms’ full of heroin packages from the truck, stood up. “What? No, man. EZ said we both had to do this.”

“I’m the one who drove here, I practically did most of the work already.”

“It’s going to be morning soon, dude. We literally need two sets of hands to do this—” He was cut off by the van for slamming shut. “Motherfucker.” He cursed under his breath before setting the rest of the packages in his arms in the trunk.

Bottles knocked on the window. “EZ’s gonna be pissed if this doesn’t get finished and you know it.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of work ahead of you, then,” Guero said with a grin, already turning up the radio. Bottles couldn’t hear it that well, but it was definitely too loud for the job they were there to do.  Especially with the backdoors open. 

Begrudgingly, Bottles went back to work. Despite how much work was ahead of him, he was a prospect. It’s what he was here for, as unfair as it seemed sometimes. Regardless of how much friendly conversation Guero allowed him at times, there was always a clear barrier between them. It stared at Bottles every time he looked at the other man’s kutte. 

Half an hour in, his eyes had adjusted to the dark. His sweater sleeves were rolled up over his elbows. The night chill tinged his skin until his hair was standing on end, but not enough to properly cool him down from the work he was doing. His gloves were shoved into his pocket. Not the best idea if something went wrong, he did realize, but at that point, he just needed it to be over with. Every few minutes, Guero would roll down the window to update him about whatever police chatter he heard on the radio.

“Do you think you could be any quicker with that?” he said one time.

“Not unless you wanna lend a hand.”

“Fuck no.”

—

Another half an hour passed. He was almost done moving everything, but fuck, was it taking a toll on him. He took the last four packages in a stack and slowly trudged them into the van.

He knocked on the driver’s seat window again to get Guero’s attention, probably harder than he intended to, but he was too tired to care at that point. Clearly it was evident, too, with Guero already preparing to yell at him but stopping once he got a look at his face. 

“I got everything transferred. Can you put the tarp over it? My legs are about to give out.” Bottles walked over to the passenger seat without waiting for a response. Again, bold but he hoped Guero would grant him at least a break. Which surprisingly, he did, tucking the corners of the tarp into the stack Bottles made so nothing was showing. Bottles made a note to thank him on the ride back. 

He was about to fall asleep when he saw a car in the distance, the headlights illuminating its black and white coloring. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Shit, cops. Stay back there,” he said, hopefully loud enough for Guero to hear.  All Bottles was able to do was turn off the interior lights before he was pulled into the back of the van.

“Asshole, are you trying to get us caught?” Bottles tried to respond, but was interrupted by Guero scrambling to pull the tarp over both of them.

They were dead silent, trying to hear the cop car drive by or God forbid someone peering into the van windows. As he caught his breath, Bottles noticed their closeness. With the amount of product beside them, there wasn’t much room for them to hide. Somehow, they ended up facing each other. Bottles' back was pressed against the backs of the seats while Guero was almost knocking over the pile of heroin packages. Though, even with that, their chests were just about touching. Legs unintentionally tangled together in the chaos. He could practically feel the adrenaline running through the both of them.

Miraculously, his glasses were still on and his eyes were still adjusted to the dark. Faintly, he could see Guero—probably much clearer than Guero could see him. The first beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, if they weren’t already swept away by his bangs which were strewn over his forehead. Though, Bottles assumed he looked something similar. Guero’s eyes were darting around despite there not being much to see. Maybe the peak through of a flashlight or a shadow passing by.  

“I thought you were checking the police radio?”

“I was, I didn’t hear anything close to us. Guess the dumb fuck was just going on a nighttime drive or something. Just be quiet—let me listen.”

Still nothing. Whatever car was driving by, it was probably long gone by now. Probably. But, he probably shouldn’t say that.

There are often times when Bottles has to remind himself to not get too comfortable. To remind himself that he’s just a prospect. Maybe he was too trusting, too gullible, or got caught up in everything too quickly. Whatever it was, that reminder was flaring red at that moment. Something about how they were right now felt off. They were talking too comfortably. Like they were in this mess together rather than this just being one of Bottles’ fuckups like usual. 

Not to mention how close they were right now. He shouldn’t be thinking so hard about this, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this close to any of the members before. He probably should’ve been scanning as best as he could through the tarp, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the rise and fall of Guero’s chest as his breath evened out. Their legs were still slotted together, too. Just stopping at the middle of their thighs. The fabric in his pants felt so much thinner than they should be suddenly. It felt like he was feeling so much more than he should. 

They stayed there without saying anything, without moving for probably too long. The air around them was already thick with condensation. Bottles felt lightheaded. 

“We’re—probably good now,” Guero said hesitantly, throwing off the tarp over them, suddenly feeling how isolated they were. Alone at the border with just a couple guns in the backseat to protect themselves. With a prospect member no less. Meaning, Guero had to make all the calls. He shifted himself onto his knees so he could sit up to the best of his ability to peer through the windows as Bottles sat up as well. In doing so, Guero’s legs were pressed even closer into the prospect’s. 

No one was there. Aside from the much-welcomed “fresh” air, everything seemed the same. The only thing he could see through the windows was a dark night painted with much more stars than there were in Santo Padre. He shifted to survey the front of the van. Nothing through the windshield. Their weapons and supplies were still cluttered in the backseat. Thank fucking god. 

“Alright. Coast is clear, we can finally get back home now—” Whatever Guero was about to say next trailed off after he got another look at Bottles, whose face was a bright red and had a hand pressed tightly against his mouth. His eyes were wide and looking up at Guero from over his glasses. 

Guero thought for a moment, why Bottles was acting like that, now of all times. Then, he realized the position they were just in; one of Guero’s knees pressing between Bottles’ legs, sometimes digging farther in as he scanned out the windows. They were undeniably close the entire time. That was one of the last things on Guero’s mind during the moment, but it clearly affected Bottles.

“Seriously, prospect? That’s what you’re going to freak out about?” Guero sat back down, hopefully giving Bottles enough space to calm down. He needed a second to relax, too. 

Bottles didn’t respond. His hand was still over his mouth, though now, not as tight as before. Just enough to keep himself from letting any unnecessary sounds slip out. And they just about did before. He really shouldn’t have acted like that. He shouldn’t be acting like this now. There was still a chance they could be in danger, and he’s blushing and sweating like a goddamn teenager. 

Guero took a few deep breaths as he sat down, letting the adrenaline run off him. But as he did, he was able to get a better look at Bottles. Still shaking, still bright red. Guero continued to eye him, something habitual from his family somehow always being caught in the line of fire. As his eyes followed Bottles’ frame down, Guero took in his hair, his fogged-up glasses, his rolled-up sleeves, the bottom hemming of his shirt that was definitely tucked in when they were assigned this job, down to his waist, and—

Guero’s eyes snapped back to Bottles’; shocked ones meeting shocked turned to humiliated. Just as soon as their eye contact was made, it was broken by Bottles scrambling to the driver’s seat.

“Fuck, I’m sorry! You-I’ll just drive back. You don’t have to look at me, or-or think about this, and we can just get back home.” Bottles’ words came out poorly and fast, maybe as a way to clutter his brain away from any more recollection on what just happened, or maybe the blood still hasn’t gotten back to his head yet. 

“Prospect,” Guero said firmly before Bottles could get over the passenger seats, “sit back down.”

Bottles immediately did as he was told, force of habit, maybe. They were sitting like they were before, facing each other with nothing to avoid each other. Bottles kept his thighs tightly together as he sat down, uncomfortable, but much better than the alternative. Aside from kicking him out of the club entirely, this was one of the worst punishments Guero could’ve come up with. Him, sitting there, unconsciously bracing, waiting for the silence thick in the air, to be broken as Guero looks him up and down for what felt like the 20th time. Bottles hated how unreadable Guero was when he wanted to be. 

“You said you were scared of me before,” Guero began after a while, now leaning closer to him. A part of Bottles wanted to back up, put more distance between them, but another part of him didn’t. Besides, he was already against the back of the seats. “Why’s that? I think it’s smart, I just wanna know the reason.”

Bottles forgot he said that if he was being honest. It wasn’t that long ago, but a lot had happened in the past few months. “I-uh, you were, um, such a—I mean at the time, maybe it was because of what I knew about—”

“How ‘bout I make it easier for you?” He was over him now. Their faces were close, but not as close as they were under the tarp. Guero continued, but not before making a show of his very intentional look down at the increasingly obvious tent in Bottles’ pants. “Do I scare you now?”

“Y-yes.”

“Right, so you wanna listen to me now, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Guero took the hand Bottles didn’t notice he put under his chin and tilted it up, forcing their eye contact one again. “Getting a hard-on from your superior digging his knee into you, kinda masochistic, don’t you think?”

Something about how he said it made Bottles’ hair stand on end. It was such crude, accurate wording that somehow made it sound much more vulgar. 

He was still sitting, now slightly leaning back to make room for the man now over him. His arms were still there uselessly at his sides. His head was taking too much comfort in the hand holding it. And unfortunately, his erection was still pulsing uncomfortably in his boxers. 

He didn’t know if Guero wanted an answer, didn’t know what answer he’d want. So he warily decided on just looking back at him helplessly. 

Then, he gave Bottles that look. The one Bottles had gotten to know over his few months at the club. The one that Guero made when he was about to do something without care for the consequences. The one that said let’s fuck around and find out. 

Guero took one of his legs and put it on the other side of Bottles’ lap. If he was being honest, he wasn’t that sure what he was doing. He didn’t know how far he planned to go with this, either. But, he did know he wanted to have some fun.

He started by fumbling with Bottles’ belt, planning to leave him hanging with a little stimulation before undoing his own. He could feel Bottles’ jolt of panic under him, but he didn’t protest further. 

Guero slipped down Bottles’ pants and boxers to pull out his cock. As he did so, he heard Bottles try to stifle something close to a gasp or a moan—he couldn’t tell which. Whatever it was, Guero did find it charming how awkward-yet-honest the other man was. He was just willing to let Guero do whatever he pleased, and he appreciated that. 

Bottles’ cock was thick and heavy, Guero realized as he first wrapped his fingers around it. It wasn’t too long, though, its length only passing Guero’s fist by an inch or two. Before starting work on his own belt, Guero swiped his thumb over the already damp head, reveling in Bottles’ unsuccessful attempts to stay quiet. 

“Sensitive,” Guero murmured. Bottles could tell it was pointed at him, but again, he decided to let the comment stay in the air. His mind was still spinning, in his defense. He knew it would make sense for him to participate or something, but he didn’t know what Guero was planning yet.  

Bottles took hold of his cock in replacement of Guero, still too shaky to start moving, preferring to watch Guero instead. Which was definitely a mistake, as his cock very clearly twitched in his hand as Guero took out his own. It was a bit skinnier than Bottles’ with a slight curve, it wasn’t fully hard yet, which Guero fixed with a few quick strokes. 

“Open up,” Guero said like it was a casual request, already resting his index and middle finger on Bottles lips. He continued, already feeling wide, unsure eyes boring into him without needing to look himself.  “Relax, nothing too crazy. I’m just trying to make it feel better for the both of us.” 

He gave another look at Bottles. One that said, we’re already gone this far, what’s a little more?

At that, Bottles complied, taking Guero’s fingers into his mouth. He clumsily maneuvered them around his mouth, trying his best to wet them without scraping them with his teeth. Are teeth bad in this situation? Does it matter? It wasn’t like he was sucking him off. Was that next? It wasn’t like he was a virgin, but this kind of sex was completely new to him. Though, he’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about it before. 

“Fuck,” Bottles swore he heard the other man whisper. Somewhere between amusement and arousal. But, his eyes were much too out of focus, much like a lot of his senses, for him to be sure. 

Satisfied, Guero removed his fingers and lazily wet both of their cocks in saliva. He leaned in, keeping his dry hand on Bottles’ shoulder and resting their sweat-damp foreheads together before working them both in his hand. He kept the pace slow at first, appreciating how sensitive Bottles was at the smallest bit of gratification—all of his weak moans and whines. Guero wondered how little he’d have to give to still turn the other man into a mess. 

He stilled his hand, grinning at Bottles continuing to buck into him, but not mentioning it further. He dipped his head into the crook of the prospect’s neck and began to bite and suck with the intention to leave a mark. 

As Guero expected, Bottles already let out a moan much louder than any he probably thought he could produce. Bottles tried to cover his mouth with his hand like before to suppress any more noise, but a hand caught his wrist before he could. 

“Nope,” Guero said, breathy and light, barely removing himself from Bottles’ neck. He could feel the man’s heartbeat from where was. It was enough to make him dizzy. “I wanna hear all the sounds I’m getting out of you.”

To his delight, Bottles complied. Though hesitantly, he relaxed more into Guero’s touch, letting his moans escape from his mouth much more freely. He was thrusting into Guero’s hand so shamelessly, he wasn’t sure if he knew he was doing it. 

Fuck, a part of Guero really wanted to finish him off like this; needy and desperate and loud. What he would give to cover him in enough bruises and bites for them to be permanent. Enough to permanently mark him as part of the club. As Guero’s. 

Another part of Guero wanted him to rough him up until he was bleeding and begging. 

He looked back at Bottles, who’s glasses somehow got lost in everything. If he wasn’t red before, he sure as hell was now. Eyes darting everywhere except at the man over him. Some hickeys were already blooming on his neck and jaw—reddish pink setting fondly into his skin. 

Guero let a few beads of saliva fall out of his mouth and onto his hand, hastily re-wetting their cocks, stroking them much faster than before. He did originally want to draw this out further, but damn, if he was here any longer, neither of them would ever get back to Santo Padre. 

He set his forehead back against Bottles’, their moans hungry and low as they tried to reach the high together. At least, that was Guero’s intention. Bottles, on the other hand, was inexplicably fixated on Guero’s lips. 

They were pink and bruised and painfully close to Bottles’ face. He wanted to kiss him so badly. He wasn’t sure why, it just felt right. Maybe he was just a romantic like that. Though, he wasn’t sure any of this could be considered romantic. He decided against it, figuring if Guero wanted to, he would’ve done it already. 

Rather than cluttering his mind with all the things he’d like to do, conceded to what he could do—get lost in all the senses overtaking him. His heartbeat pounding back into his ears. The sound of skin hitting slick skin echoing through the van. Guero’s hot breath and giggly moans hitting his face. The hand around his and Guero's cock that was moving like he’d done this hundreds of times over. 

His wrist was still caught in Guero’s free hand. Light enough that it wouldn’t take much effort to break free, but Bottles didn’t move.

Bottles came first with a much too loud whimper, his orgasm washing over him in waves. Cum spilt over Guero’s fingers as he continued to stroke their cocks together. Overstimulation buzzed through Bottles as Guero reached his climax as well, both of them groaning and gasping into each other as they came down from their high. 

Eventually, Guero sat back up, as much as he would’ve liked to pass out in the crook of Bottles’ neck. He licked some of the mess of cum off his hand before he noticed Bottles staring. “Did you want some?” 

“Fuck off,” Bottles said, rolling his eyes.

After tucking his dick back into his pants, Guero removed himself from Bottles' lap, sitting beside him as they caught their breath—stretching his back as he settled down. It was probably a bad idea to stay hunched over like that for so long. He could notice Bottles stretching out his legs, too. Though, he couldn't say he regretted it. 

The windows were fogged up, as well. Guero couldn’t say he was surprised. 

They sat like that for some time, staring forward at the trunk door of the van, both of them trying to come up with something to say that wouldn’t make it too awkward. Or, at least more awkward than they assumed the other person thought it was. Neither of them could find anything they liked. 

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” Guero started after a while, turning over to face Bottles, who was putting on his slightly foggy glasses. Its casualness cut through the silence like a knife. 

“Yeah?—” Bottles attempted to respond before being cut off with an oddly tender kiss. 

“Could you drive us back?”

[fuumiku]

Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.

[two-ii-tango]

shared custody

@serialpublicpisserr

[ukuslip]

i know im an icebooker but i'll always be a multishipper deep down. anyways this one's specifically kind of funny to me because it's just book having a one-sided crush on another water-based contestant so it's sort of icebook coded if you don't think about ti that much

[mittenlady]

athena cykes: best wingwoman

[thek1ngtalks]

If I get a good score on my SAT ill write a dating Sim fic

[mutedeclipse]

Sharktuna posting

They called him delicious he wants to leave :(

Had to revisit last year's designs for my classic verse dastardlies and will continue to do so ontill i dont.

[fumifooms]

What do you think of Lamari (Laios and Namari)? Both as a ship and the relationship between the two.

I don’t like it sorry broski 😔 Seeing them interacting in ep 9 again made me see the appeal more, it’s cute how they interact, how they trust each other’s abilities and judgement! But ship wise…… I can’t. I’ve been seeing cute fanart of them around though, and I know a few people on discord that like them too. Like hmmm I guess I can see the appeal in the dynamic even if it doesn’t grab me but I can’t form a narrative for them… Usually I need both to truly get into a ship, a dynamic I find fun or interesting + some sort of progression and impact it’d leave on the characters, I don’t really see the character/relationship arc that’d happen, or at least not one eventful enough for me. When it comes to how I think their relationship is during canon, I see it as being professional and hinting at maybe friends, a neutral rather than negative thing mind you.

With Laios, well I’ve spoken about his character and arc before a bunch, but with Namari the part that interests me most is the whole exile thing, how she works hard to fit in both with keeping a good work reputation and shaving, for example, and how she’s not all that good with it because of presumably her bold personality... Because of this and more, and spoilers but I’ve planning on making a rarepair post about it for a while, I like shipping her with Toshiro mainly. I think that she balances out his doormat tendency but his cool attitude would be soothing and grounding and- Well gdbdgdg you see how it is. And to a certain extent I can see why people would want to apply the same logic to lamari, but… I don’t even think Namari and Laios would be able to bond over both being foreigners much tbh, I feel like Laios would sort of remain an odd mystery to her and though they could connect in a weird roundabout way I don’t think they’d exactly understand each other— and see this is the part of lamari appeal I get, the sort of tentative tension of "oh you actually respect me. That feels… Rare. And nice." Thouuugh like I was saying to be fair, it’s true Laios also tries and fails to fit in so that could be an interesting angle to go at it with. I think Namari wants stability and I just don’t really think it complements Laios well. I think trust’s the most important thing with Laios so on his side him liking her enough to be interested or open to a relationship I could see, though in a kinda mild and dry way imo… Like with Laios especially when defining how he and someone fall in love, there are sort of two modes right, and of course these coexist to some degree, but there’s Laios being his partner’s silly goober, and there’s Laios being very mature, more of his subdued stoic but composed self, all king-like, the more like connecting through meaningful conversations side. And idk how to put it into words but with lamari, I feel like Namari being paired with him doesn’t give a fresh spin on the former, and with the latter I feel like they’d always keep missing each other halfway communication wise, I don’t see them ever getting to that level where they deeply intuitively know and understand each other and how they work, maybe Laios -> Namari yes but Namari -> Laios I don’t see it, like I said I think it’d remain like, a mystery that nags at her and she might feel attracted if anything, but I can’t see them as more than casually dating idkk idk.

Namari has that fun ‘gets fired up about what odd things Laios is doing and reigns him back in’ dynamic but it’s something that literally so many other characters have too. I’m not knee deep into Namari yet so who knows maybe I have a wrong angle, but I did start giving her some thoughts bc I have a fic I have in mind for toshimari I wanna do. But yes it’s cute how protective she can get even if it’s shouty or tough love, like how she looks out for Laios’ equipment and for him not to get scammed, or brings in Toshiro here in the convo because she doesn’t want Toshiro to do his conflict avoidance thing and not stand up for himself & stay in the party even if it sucks hah. That bold borderline rude protective personality of hers with that awkwardness with intimacy/non-professional relationships is what’s unique to her I think, but yeah the laios & namari duo strikes me as strangely distant yet strangely interested coworkers who exhange glances over the cashier desk but personally I can’t see myself doing anything with that.

I’m not here to say it’s a bad ship or anything obviously! It just really doesn’t call to me personally and I don’t see stuff with them that I’d find interesting to analyze, if anything it’d involve the wider party a lot. I do want to make a masterpost on Laios’ career history and the old members of his party so I might analyze how Namari and he interact in those pre-canon comics idk. But yeahh like I find nothing to dig deeper at personally, you could make cute fics of them hinting at interest between the two, if Laios went to get drinks with her at a tavern etc etc, but all I see with them is just what canon straightforwardly showed us and I don’t get the urge to explore the possibility of them at all.

Sorry to disappoint, but yeah I won’t be a good source of lamari content or thoughts. I have wayy too many drafts I actually want to get out so I’ll be storing further Laios & Namari analysis for a big maybe, one day. I feel so bad I really hate to be negative at all and as a fellow rareshipper I send u my best wishes truly, good luck y’all deserve fellow stans and content. Feel free to leave pro-lamari arguments in the comments or reblogs if you want idm but preferably not asks (and just don’t be aggressive & don’t expect me to respond/react 🫶) like truly this post isn’t meant as a diss but anon asked me about my personal thoughts so… I love youuu lamaris hope y’all thrive 🙇🙇

Trying to think of crumbs and it’s true she blushed when she saw him in his cape at the end so y’all got that W. Namari having a thing for tallmen is so real

Edit: oh she went with him for equipment shopping… Ok that’s cute

[livelaughlovelams]

"Aren't you a historical lams account" w-well yeah but right now I'm focusing on my stupid slightly inaccurate ship with an actual scary age difference and an unhealthy power dynamic so be quiet >:C

[adhd-merlin]

Rarepair fave is def Merdred, those mfs had Vibes™ that were just.... Something else. Like, they needed to be locked in a room so they could either talk it out, fight it out, or fuck it out. Something. Anything. Because I really think if not for that goddamn prophecy, Merlin would like Mordred! A lot! Another sorcerer that's actually on his side, actively helping him! Tbh, I think he liked him in canon, even though he didn't want to, which just adds to the Angst of them.

Fave scenes of them are in "With All My Heart" when Mordred says he hopes he and Merlin can be friends and you can just see Merlin internally screaming at a volume to break glass, and in "The Drawing of the Dark" when Mordred asks why Merlin always thinks the worst of him, and again, you can see that moment of Merlin just being weighted by what he knows and being unable to say it.

And for a fic rec: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25627360 (it is smut, but there are also feels, and it's Mordred POV)

FINALLY! THANK YOU!

I really think if not for that goddamn prophecy, Merlin would like Mordred! A lot!

He did like him! He said it himself!

GAIUS: If Mordred wished Arthur ill, he has had ample opportunity to do so. He's a likeable boy, Merlin. MERLIN: I know. I like him myself, but I can't ignore what I saw. — From The Disir, Ep 5x05

That's what makes it tragic, they could get on, they could be friends, they actually have much in common — but Merlin can't afford to get close to Mordred because of what he knows/thinks Mordred's going to do.

Here's my thoughts about this ship:

Arguments in favour:

• ENEMIES TO LOVERS

• the delicate balance of power: Alex and Colin go on quite a bit about Mordred and Merlin's relationship in the commentary to ep 5x02. Mordred technically outranks Merlin, given he's a knight and Merlin is just a servant, but also Merlin is Emrys and, as a Druid, Mordred is aware (and likely in awe) of his role and power. And they are both the unwilling keeper of the other's secret, as they both have to hide their magic in Camelot. It makes for an interesting dynamic.

• Like I said, it's tragic that Merlin had to keep Mordred at arm's length (emotionally) because they had some common ground: they both loved Arthur — I mean they both cared about him, and they both had faith in him. Mordred believed that Arthur would bring about a golden age just as much as Merlin did! They both yearned for peace, and they both had to stain their hands with blood to survive. They both had to go through so much trauma.

KARA: You're a knight. MORDRED: That doesn't matter. KARA: Of Camelot. Why, Mordred? MORDRED: Arthur is a good man. KARA: I can't believe you'd say that. MORDRED: You don't know him. — From The Drawing of the Dark, Ep 5x11

• As with Sefa, I think Merlin could benefit from having a Druid partner.

• Merlin glaring at Mordred is pretty hot. He also gets slammed into a wall by him which, again. Pretty hot.

• They could literally mind-fuck each oth— [gunshot sound]

Fave scenes of them are in "With All My Heart" when Mordred says he hopes he and Merlin can be friends and you can just see Merlin internally screaming at a volume to break glass, and in "The Drawing of the Dark" when Mordred asks why Merlin always thinks the worst of him, and again, you can see that moment of Merlin just being weighted by what he knows and being unable to say it.

Both great scenes! I love all the scenes they have together, I think. The way Mordred always looks and sounds vaguely menacing without doing or saying anything outright evil. They way he is desperate for Merlin's approval :(

My favourite Merlin & Mordred scene has to be the one from episode 5x05 (The Disir).

MERLIN: It won't always be like this. One day we will live in freedom again. MORDRED: You really believe that? MERLIN: I do. Beat. They both look down at the grave. MORDRED: Until then, we go unmarked in death as in life. — From The Disir, Ep 5x05

It's a rare moment of bonding between them. Mordred appeals to their shared nature ("he was one of us") and, for once, Merlin puts down his defences. He offers Mordred a few words of comfort ("It won't always be like this"). And then Mordred hits him with that fucking PROFOUND line and Merlin doesn't know what to do with it.

This is not the horrible future-murderer he's made Mordred up to be in his head. This is a boy with hope in his eyes and kindness in his heart (still). It speaks so much of what they could have been if destiny hadn't got in the way. (I've also gone on about Merlin's complicated relationship with other magic folks in another post. Yes, I have many feelings about it).

I love that scene from ep 5x11, too, ("Everything I do, you think the worst") — probably my second favourite scene with these two.

It starts out with Merlin being so confrontational and aggressive, but it ends with Merlin deciding to trust Mordred, for once. Perhaps reluctantly, but he does.

It's tragic that he seems to open up to Mordred when it's too late. I've touched on before on why I think it is that it happens at this moment. Merlin has literally been in Mordred's position. In fact, some of the dialogue in this scene echoes Merlin and Gaius's confrontation in ep 2x09, when Merlin was ready to run away with Freya.

If that wasn't clear enough, we also have Mordred asking Merlin directly:

Tell me you wouldn't do the same for the woman you love.

But of course Merlin would. He has. Well, he's tried to.

But again, because of what he knows about Mordred, Merlin can't let Mordred escape, even though he gets what he's trying to do, and doesn't blame him for trying.

I also like when Mordred angrily confronts Merlin later in the same episode. His outburst shows how he is well aware of how unfairly Merlin has been treating him, and although he's been remarkably chill about it up until now, it doesn't mean he's not angry and resentful about it. He may not show his emotions much, but he's not unfeeling.

"You did it because you hate me", he says, and "This time you've gone too far!"

THIS IS A MAN WHO'S HAD ENOUGH. It's also a reminder of how much Mordred has been putting up with — for all he knows, Merlin hates him for no good reason. I think it says something about Mordred's nature that he only truly snaps when Merlin's meddling threatens the person he loves. MY STABBY CHILD IS FULL OF LOVE OKAY

I just think they have such an interesting dynamic!

I can see why they wouldn't be a super popular pairing, given Merlin's attitude to Mordred in the show and what Mordred ends up doing. And also the age gap, I guess (I personally don't find it too weird because the actors are so clearly close in age that it can be easily brushed off, but I can see why other people might find it off-putting).

Fanfics

THANK YOU for the fic rec anon, I've skim-read it and it looks very much up my alley ♡

I actually haven't gone looking for many Merlin/Mordred fics. I've a read a few ages ago, most of them just short ficlets, but I only have one bookmarked. It's the fic that put Merlin/Mordred on my radar:

Set in Stone by EachPeachPearPlum (on AO3).

It's a relatively long fic (almost 50k words), so there is space to explore Merlin and Mordred's relationship.

I actually read it before watching the show properly (I basically watched a bunch on scenes from the show and dipped my toes in fanfiction before deciding to watch all of the series).

I haven't re-read it since, and I don't even remember how it ultimately deals with the whole prophecy thing, if it even gets to that point (I think the author meant for this to be part of a series but they didn't continue, although this story is complete). But the prophecy was addressed, with what I thought was an interesting twist.

(I won't say anything too spoiler-y in case anyone wants to check it out, but Mordred is actually aware of the prophecy and he even knows an extra bit about Merlin which Merlin himself doesn't know about. It's revealed pretty early in the story, so it's not really a spoiler).

It touches on some aspects of Merlin and Mordred's relationship that I find fascinating, so I think it's worth a read if you're interested in this pair.

Random lil' excerpt:

"I am not a child, Emrys," Mordred hisses, leaning in close; Merlin suspects he's going for menacing, but all it really comes off as is petulant, which sort of proves his point. "I was the last time you tried to kill me, but not now." And then there are words in Merlin's head, words he is powerless to stop, filled with a rage that is everything and nothing all at once. Keep your reasons to yourself, Emrys, but do not try to placate me with what we both know are lies. Mordred stands then, the expression on his face one of youthful rage, burning bright and burning quickly, and Merlin wishes he was right. If Mordred wasn't so young, Merlin could kill him without hesitation, could dream about him without hating himself (or without hating himself quite so much, since the fact that Mordred is destined to destroy everything Merlin is destined to protect is at least as much of a concern as Mordred's age). This could all be over and done with, one way or another. "Get out of here, Mordred," Merlin snarls. "You live because I let you, and you live for as long as I let you. Do not tempt me."

I JUST THINK IT'S HOT WHEN HE THREATENS TO MURDER PEOPLE OKAY

I'm just going to bring this post back to your attention. There are dozens of us! (people who find mean Merlin sexy). DOZENS

As a final note — my Italian brain refuses to call this ship Merdred. There's got to be a better name for it 😭

[wings-of-waffles]

character design is funny! so i gave nightwings fur under their scales that you can see on their underbelly, and then i decided to give farsight curly fur, and oops now nightwings have a rex gene like rats and cats do! and how the rex gene works (i think) is it's a dominant gene but if an animal gets two copies they're bald instead... and oops my hand slipped now morrowseer is bald and he's torturing people who have hair what did i do!?

[noddynods]

The amount of self indulgence in this drawing is so high no human brain can visualize the written number it equals

+ eepy dreambert

[head-empty404]

I think it's time to explain ChainedSoul cause I'm assuming most of you are confused why you're seeing posts of them randomly!

if you're too lazy to read a wall of text, then here's the TLDR:

ChainedSoul is the ship name for Al Simmons and Johnny Blaze, aka Spawn and Ghost Rider respectively and they should kiss.

now hear me out on them -

they are both men who have made deals with rulers of Hell (or a circle of Hell in Malebolgia's case), they both in turn became somewhat immortal beings that should not be messed with, and they have similar abilities.

the best part is the ANGST.

since Zarathos is bound to Johnny, he will find ways to absolutely torture Spawn during nighttime. Spawn knows he's not a good person and Zarathos will make sure of it. I just know Zarathos relishes in the fact that he's destroying someone Johnny loves, almost as much as Mephisto would maybe.

but if you don't want to think about the angst, then look no further than the FLUFF !!

the height difference is very cute because Spawn is around 6'11" and Johnny is about 5'10" normally and gains a few inches when becoming Ghost Rider at 6'2"; to put that into perspective Johnny goes up to Spawn's shoulders!

Spawn would either crouch for Johnny or just stand there and watch him struggle to kiss him, no in-between. I also feel like that Spawn would get flustered easily when flirted with since it's been so long since he's even been in a romantic relationship that he had almost forgotten what it was like.

I need all of you to note that I've written out Spawn's pursuit for Wanda; this is because I want that man to stop being miserable over his ex-wife. I didn't leave it out completely of course. I've had it to where he's stopped trying to pursue her when he saw her happy with Terry. all that Spawn cared about was Wanda's happiness, me thinks; as long she's happy then he's happy. he would still protect her family if they're in any major danger.

anyways thanks for reading and I hope you see my vision for my rarepair !!

[silviaflowers]

wow, yall will ship ANYTHING huh?

[soopsiedaisies]

listen i myself am a hater and i respect the business but if it gets personal and shippy you gotta keep that shit restricted to your own home. some of it may leak out into daily life and that’s fine like tear holes in the echo chamber go off ig!! but the bulk of it should be between you, god(s), and your disciples (the homies on the private discord server) like mother nature intended

[m00ngbin]

I need to find someone who makes animatics and beg them to tell me what program they use and how they match the drawings up with the songs they're using