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eddiesxangel · 7 months ago

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That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

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#eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x you #rockstar!eddiemunson #rockstar!eddie Munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x popstar!reader #wildflower #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie Munson #Spotify

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daryldixonswoman · 5 months ago

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MDNI

Warnings: Smut

Era: Alexandria, established relationship

Taking a moment to close your eyes (which was a miracle in it's self) you take in the noises and smells surrounding you. The sounds of birds chirping and the odd buzzing bee with faint sounds of chatter and children laughing in the background. You could smell the flowers you had planted earlier that season, the faint smell of a bbq the quiet town had been preparing that day. You smile to yourself, being able to close your eyes and take it all in really was priceless. You stand from your kneeling position, wiping the dirt from your knees careful not to spoil the little white sundress Daryl had brought back some time ago on one of his runs. You walk back through your back door, into the kitchen of the small home you shared with Daryl. It was humble and cozy, perfect for you both. You decided to make some Ice Tea as Daryl would be back from helping repair one of the townfolks garden gates. Ever the carpenter, there was no end to his skills. The mere thought of him working with his hands, with that look of concentration on his face had you biting your bottom lip and squeezing your thighs together before you were brought back to reality and facing the ewer of Ice Tea you had made as you heard the door open and shut and the familiar sound of boots being shuffled off.

"Y/N? M'home" Daryl gruffed out with a slight breathlessness to his voice. He definitely doubled his pace to get back to you, to home.

"In here honey" you call out from the kitchen as you give the Ice Tea one last stir waiting to surprise your man.

Daryl made his way to the archway that joined the kitchen and living room together, he stood still in his tracks. Seeing your bright smile welcoming him. Seeing that pretty dress that barely covered your upper thighs. The one you wore just for him. He hummed a low growl as his demeanor changed. A look of possessiveness and hunger in his eyes as he stalked over to you.

"Made us some Ice Tea" you beamed proudly, knowing it wasn't anything spectacular but it was so rare these days.

Daryl hummed again, a low growl from the back of his throat as his fingers found there way to the frilly hem of the dress. Grazing ever so slightly on your thigh. So dangerously close to the place you needed him most. "Hmm..I see that doll" Daryl acknowledged unable to tear his eyes away from how the lace danced across your thighs. Like a pretty little present just for him.

"Ain't you thirsty?" you ask already knowing he was, the beads of sweat giving it away yet he never looked at the pitcher, never tore his eyes away from the hem of your dress.

Daryl nods chewing on his bottom lip "mhm, f'somethin' else" he hums with a soft gruff, the kind that made you weak at the knees as you felt his hand travel up further, his thumb tracing softly over the wet patch that had already appeared. He looks you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. You've never said no to him but he always wanted confirmation, he needed it. You bite your lip, holding back a moan slightly embarrassed he had this effect on you already. A small smirk grew on Daryl's face as he slipped his fingers into your underwear, his expert fingers finding the oh so sweet button that if pressed correctly made you sing like a bird. The prettiest noises Daryl ever did hear. Gliding his middle finger through your slick folds he used his pointer and ring finger to open up the folds, exposing that magic bundle of nerves. He stroked it slightly, gauging your reaction. You grew misty eyed, placing your hands on the counter behind you, you gave yourself to him completely.

"Tha's m'good girl" Daryl cooed into your ear, speaking so softly and sweetly as he slid his thick digit into you. Sinking into you until it reached his knuckle.

You squeeze your legs tight trapping his hand in place. You were so close already, feeling your juices run down your inner thighs you just needed a little more.

"Hmm I gotcha sweetheart" Daryl soothes into your ear as he slides another finger in. Feeling your sweet pussy start to contract around his fingers he thumbs at your sensitive clit. "Cum 'round my fingers Y/N" he growled getting aroused. Feeling how your fingers contracted and pulsed around his fingers had his dick stirring. He wanted to slide into you so badly, feel your pretty pussy clutch as he drove deeper into you.

You pant feeling a little unsteady on your feet as you return back to earth feeling Daryl grip your hips keeping you close to him. Lifting his fingers to his mouth, he sucks them dry. Thirsty for every drop of nectar you had for him. He lifts the hem of your dress up and over before pressing himself into you. You could feel his poor cock being strangled behind his jeans and Daryl's heavy panting in your ear "turn aroun' f'me" he pants almost impatiently as he turns you. Tracing his large had up along your bare spine he pushes you gently so your bent over onto the counter. The cold marble pressed against your hard nipples you waited, biting your bottom lip and adjusting yourself so you were on your tiptoes.

"Wore tha' pretty lil dress f'me? Hmm?" Daryl teased knowing the answer already pressing his clothed cock against your bare entrance.

"Mm..maybe" you tease back, knowing it was futile. Daryl could read you like a book. The way your body responded to his. He'd have to be deaf and blind not to notice. The sound of a belt being unbuckled was so familiar. You and Daryl had been together for years and had a pretty healthy sex life. Any chance you got you were looking at eachother hungrily. It was one of your favourite sounds, Daryl with one hand placed firmly on your lower back to keep you in place, the other undoing his buckle and button. Freeing his dripping cock just enough out of his boxers

"Gonna be a good girl an' lemme stretch ya over this counter?" He panted tracing his swollen head against your welcoming entrance

You managed a faint moan, a moan of agreement. His words alone had you soaking, greedy for his length. His girth. Your hands palms down on the marble you breath a sigh of relief as you felt his tip enter you slowly. Just the tip. Daryl could be such a tease at times. Daryl chucked gruffly at your response, feeling your needy cunt adjust to his tip. You were always so tight, always so perfect for him. Knowing you were gonna need some help to allow him fully in he gripped one of your thighs with his strong hand, bending your leg up as to allow him to sink all the way inside you. Into home. You both moan loudly in unison. Feeling that familiar feeling. Your pussy desperately fluttering around his delicious girth. Daryl places his hand firmer on your lower back. There was no way he was gonna be able to take you gentle. Not when you were always so desperate for him, so desperate to please him. He pulled almost all the way out just to slam back into you. Your body slides harshly against the marble counter as he fills you completely. His pace becoming fast and relentless. Claiming you like he has countless time before. Daryl growls lowly as he takes you hard against the kitchen counter in the kitchen you shared. It felt dirty, needy, desperate. You were his completely and he was yours. His grip on your thigh becomes harsher, feeling his thick fingers digging into your warm, plush flesh sure to leave bruises. His other hand gripping your hip, keeping you in place determined to send you to another dimension. Away from this cruel world. You both were never big believers in god but whenever you were alone together you were in pure bliss, you were almost certain heaven existed and it existed in Daryl. Daryl's moans becoming louder, sounding like a starved animal and your sweet pussy was just the welcome meal he needed. His growls sent shivers down your back, filled you with a hot need to be speared on his impressive cock. You managed strangled moans as your cunt desperately clutches around him, never wanting him to leave, leaving you empty. Daryl bends over you breathing heavily into your ear as he pins you against the counter fully with his pelvis "y'mine Y/N, always" Daryl growls possessively his thrusts becoming relentless. "Always..yours..D" you barely managed to reply between sinful moans. Daryl's cock twitches inside you, brushing against your cervix. He lived to be strangled by your sweet pussy, never wanting to leave. His mind went foggy and his instinct took over. Biting down on your neck he cums hard inside you. Thick ropes of cum shooting deep into your contracting pussy, milking everything he had for you. All his love, all his frustration, all of him. You'd take it gladly. Calming down from your climaxes Daryl sucks a hickey into your neck before gently placing your leg back down and holding you around the waist as he brings your back flush against his chest. You both stay like that for a moment. You secretly thankful as if he let go you fear you may buckle to the floor but Daryl never let you go, he never would.

"Fuck Y/N, gonna be the death o' me" Daryl pants into your ear slowly turning you around to face him

You bite your lip, cheeks flushed, eyes tear stained, completely fucked and satisfied. "I..uh made Ice Tea" was all you could manage before giggling softly as Daryl helped you back into your dress

"Wha' did I do ta deserve a girl like you huh?" Daryl smiles almost shyly tracing his fingers along your flushed cheeks

"I'm your good karma..and you're mine" you reply brightly. You couldn't predict the future but in this moment everything was perfect and that was enough

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #norman reedus #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut

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futurepastme · 17 days ago

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Unmatched II

[Soulmate Au] [Act.I]

I hope I remembered to tag everyone who asked: @luflorysblog @valewright67 @schweetheart @funkiemoon @xs-crit-hit @dancingpieces @jellytamalies @shana-rosee @purpuraffe @saladscream @princess-of-morkva @orliththedragon @clairebonnefoy @enjaami @hakka84 @evedaser @tabbycat105 @guiltyscarlet @just-wandering-in-my-mind @percyspencer @tonystarkdeservesthewholeworld @thedollopheadofcamelot @amostunpleasantpeasant @toomanyfanficsbruh @braziiis @lottelorelei @acey-lacey @leana316 @the-sun-is-also-a-star @styxhuntress @rem-the-moth @caraspud @kintsugikid-moonysversion @beebsnas @221b-bitch-st @eat-a-handful-of-bees @highest-brightness @generouswolfdetective @read-write-thrive @0happyeverafter0 @lab-trash @faithiikins @musichooman

Act.II: Arthur Pendragon

Time seemed to pass very quickly for those who were part of the Royal Household. From feasts to meetings, from knights’ training and patrols to simple everyday tasks, everyone seemed to always have their hands full with their daily duties.

No one, though, had their hands fuller than Prince Arthur himself, who had recently risen to the position of Prince Regent after his father's sudden illness, which followed the unexpected reappearance of the now Princess Morgana Pendragon.

While the Prince was not yet King, Camelot already showed small but significant differences from King Uther's reign. Not only had he completely ceased public executions, but he had also stopped actively hunting magic users. And the most shocking and scandalous decision of all: Prince Regent Arthur Pendragon had started to knight commoners.

That brought new faces to Camelot, such as Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine to name a few, but also many others that came not only for the possibility of becoming a knight, but for the curiosity of what Camelot had to offer under the hands of a younger almost-King.

The new influx of people came with the additional benefit of bringing soulmates together. Wherever you went you could hear the stories of couples finding each other, and if you were lucky you could stumble upon a wedding celebration or two.

The newly soulmatched also contributed to the changes in Camelot. A lot of them stayed, choosing to continue their lives in the Kingdom, but a good few decided to leave, following their soulmates to whatever kingdom they called home.

As a consequence, many shops were closed and houses were abandoned, however, new ones appeared in their place with brand new couples and families. The old tailor shop became a bakery, the lower town butcher became a smithy, and young Gillis’ house turned into a carpenter shop accompanied by the carpenter's whole family.

Camelot was thriving under Arthur's Regency, and all that the people could think about was what would the Kingdom look like when he took the throne for good, knowing that no matter what the future brought, they would be safe in the good hands of their future King.

“I don't know what I’m doing.” A loud ‘clank’ resonated through the chambers when Arthur's head hit the table, hard enough to make the ink pot jump and to ruffle some sheets.

“Have you ever, though?”

“Shut up, Merlin!” Came the muffled response from the Prince, who still had his head pressed against the table top.

“C'mon, share with the room. What's wrong this time?” Merlin made his way across the room and sat himself on top of the table, next to Arthur's head. He had to resist the urge to run his fingers through Arthur's hair, which looked particularly soft today.

Arthur turned his head enough to lay it sideways on the table — his cheek squished against the wood — and raised his eyes to Merlin's.

“You are sitting on the prince's table.”

“I don't know, he doesn't look very princely from here.” Merlin smiled. Arthur looked very cute when he was pouting.

“Why are we friends again? I don't seem to remember.”

“You're deflecting.”

Arthur sighed and straightened up, only to sag back on his seat. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it a little bit. The gesture, somehow, soothing his nerves.

He let his hand fall on the arms of his chair and looked through his window. It was a sunny day and he could almost feel the kingdom buzzing with activity.

He looked back at Merlin and his watchful eyes.

Since the day, many moons ago, when Merlin opened up about his soulmate and completely broke down in front of the prince, Arthur had made a conscious effort to be more vulnerable around Merlin and let him see his emotions as they were — just like Merlin did then.

While this would never replace the connection and unity one finds in their soulmate, Arthur hoped that Merlin could find some comfort in having a friend who trusted him like that. Besides, to Arthur, it seemed only fair to repay Merlin with the same amount of trust he’d placed in Arthur that day.

Eventually, though, Arthur found out that he liked to share his feelings with Merlin. More than once he was overcome with the sudden need of telling him everything.

At some point, before that night but after they became friends, Arthur had learned to share with him the more worrisome matters and to trust Merlin's advice.

But now Arthur found it so easy to just open up to him. His fears and torments, his insecurities and moments of self doubt, his frustrations. As well as his hopes and dreams, and tiny moments of joy he felt during the day.

Feelings were not something that existed in Uther's Princely agenda, so Arthur grew up crushing them and putting them aside, treating them as a weakness. But Merlin had found his feelings and hugged them with his words, he held them with care and encouraged Arthur to nurture them.

He showed Arthur that he didn't have to be ashamed about them, at least, not with him.

So Arthur told him everything that troubled his heart.

“I’m…” he paused to breathe in, “I'm concerned, Merlin. I fear the choices I'm making are for my personal interest instead of for the good of the kingdom.”

“And what choices did you make that were for your personal interest? Please enlighten me.”

“Morgana, for one.”

“Ah, yes,” Merlin nodded and leaned forward. “The very selfish decision of supporting your sister when she was afraid your father was going to kill her. How could you?” He smirked, Arthur frowned.

“People have been leaving. More than 10 shops closed down just this last season.” Arthur tried again.

“And twelve more opened in their place.”

“The lack of public executions display a weak front to our kingdom, one with a lenient ruler that is too inexperienced to do what’s necessary. My way of ruling welcomes enemies to our doorsteps and might just be Camelot’s downfall.”

“Ah! So that’s what this is about.”

Arthur crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.

“That’s not what you really think, you’re just quoting Lords Weird Moustache, Crooked Nose and Hairy Ears.” He numbered them on his fingers and finished with a smirk.

Arthur's frown deepened. “Lord Randall, Lord Belemy and Lord Tirswell have always been great assets to my father and have proven to be loyal men throughout his entire reign.”

Merlin huffed in annoyance. “Hairy, Nose and Moustache are your father's biggest old farts!”

“Merlin!”

Merlin crossed his arms. “You are so concerned about the good of the kingdom, when was the last time you've seen your people?”

“The last public hearing was—”

“No, no, no. No!” Merlin interrupted. “Public hearings are great to hear your people's problems, but when was the last time you've been with them? Like, among them?”

“Well, I…” Arthur opened his mouth but no words came out. He looked through the window again, the kingdom still buzzing.

It was true, since he became Regent he had been so focused on not disappointing anyone, that he hadn't had the time to walk through his kingdom.

It's not that he didn't want to, but with the whole Morgana-has-magic-and-is-his-blood-sister and his father falling in his unresponsive state, he had his hands full since before the council even agreed on his regency.

He was pulled out of his thoughts with the sharp sound of a clap coming from Merlin's direction.

“That settles it, then.” He jumped out of the table, filled with excitement. “Today we're having a stroll down the lower town.”

“We have a council meeting in two hours.”

“Which gives us over an hour, c'mon! Move your fat ass out of this chair.” Merlin started pulling him.

Arthur fought him, letting his body weigh him down on the chair.

It's not like he wouldn't follow Merlin, but he had to show some resistance. Imagine if Merlin knew how easily ready Arthur was to follow him anywhere. Unacceptable.

Besides, he liked this dance of theirs. Where Arthur weakly tried to stop him, and Merlin manhandled him into doing his bidding. It was fun.

That's how Prince Arthur spent his early evening walking around the lower town in the company of his servant.

They visited the new shops and spoke with the people about the old ones. They saw busy people running to do their duties and children playing, and at some point they walked past a rather loud door, full with cheers, laughter and music.

“Excuse me,” Merlin stopped a flushed lady that came out of the noisy building. “What's the occasion?”

“Oh, it's wonderful!” She started with a big smile. “The tailor's daughter found her soulmate last week, they just split the coin! The whole street was invited for the celebration.”

“That is wonderful, indeed!” Merlin smiled at her.

“Oh, they should be leaving any minute now.”

Just as the woman said, two young women walked out of the door holding hands, with a cheering crowd following after. One of them Merlin recognized as the tailor's daughter, Marigold. The other had auburn curls and crooked teeth, and Merlin had never seen her around before.

They smiled and waved to the crowd, hands always interlocked, and everytime their eyes met, the absolute happiness and overwhelming love they felt for each other was clear for everyone to see.

While everybody watched as the couple left on a horse, Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin.

He saw that the small corner smile he had on when the girls left the building, slowly faded as the horse rode away. His soft, gleaming eyes turned sad, and Arthur recognized the longing in them.

He wondered how many times Merlin would have to watch other people's happy ending, knowing he would never get his.

Arthur brought his hand to Merlin's shoulder in a friendly manner, “that was lovely, but we do have a room filled with old farts to get to.”

That made Merlin smile again, his eyes crinkling “So you admit they are old farts, then.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

The meeting proceeded as usual, so did the week. Uther's council was still skeptical of Morgana's presence and of Arthur's leadership, postponing his ascension as King for another season — even though Uther continued in his unresponsive state, his mind completely gone from this world.

Then there was Agravaine, who allegedly came to help Arthur, but whom Merlin couldn't really trust. The man seemed to be loyal enough, but too on the fence about most things for Merlin's taste.

Either way, life moved on. Knights trained, servants worked, meetings were had, and public hearings continued to open the court to the people's problems.

It was one of those hearings that brought Prince Arthur, Merlin, and three of Uther's knights on patrol close to the border of Mercia. Rumours of mysterious disappearances and shadow men that came out of nowhere, putting fear on the hearts of the nearby villagers.

Somewhere along the way, between Merlin and Arthur's banter and Uther's Knights' chatting, they found themselves caught in an ambush.

At first they all thought it was a normal bandit attack. Merlin himself even went as far as thinking it as the ‘annoying weekly bandit encounter’ before going to ‘hide to safety’ and start dropping branches on their heads.

One after the other, the knights of Camelot fought their way through the seemingly endless group.

It seemed, though, as if while their numbers got smaller, the bandits’ skill increased. The fight kept getting harder in a way it hadn't been in a long while, but eventually it ended.

Arthur looked around, taking in his men and then the defeated bandits that lay on the ground. He listened for a second, and once he deemed the area safe, sheathed his sword. “Is everyone alright?”

He did a quick once over of his knights, checking them for injuries. When he was satisfied, he turned to where he last saw their horses, hoping they would be close by.

Arthur was mid step when he realized how quiet it was. No rustling of leaves, no loud footsteps, and the worst of all, no complaints followed by a thousand ‘I told you so.’

He turned around, “Merlin, you can come out now.”

The knights stopped what they were doing, and listened. As the seconds passed without an answer, the quietness of the place got louder.

Arthur's heartbeat resonated in his head.

“Merlin!” He marched to where he last saw him hiding, making his way through bushes and thick tree trunks.

Ba-dump

Merlin wasn't there. Instead, Arthur found tracks.

Ba-dump

The tracks showed that someone was dragged away, but there were no signs of struggle, the person didn't seem to have fought their capturers.

Ba-dump

Arthur signed for his knights to follow him, his eyes focused on where the track would lead them.

Ba-dump.

They followed the tracks for a while, until they got to what looked like the entrance of a glade. Arthur signed to his knights again, sending them in opposite directions around the edge of the glade.

He focused on calming his heart while waiting for them to be ready.

Merlin would be alright. Arthur would know if he wasn't.

Once the knights were positioned, Arthur prepared himself before giving the signal for them to move, following the last of the tracks.

Ba-dump

Once they got there, Arthur was astounded with the horrific vision that greeted them at the end of the trail.

Nothing.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump

He got closer to where the track ended to make sure — legs marching quickly and feet crunching leaves, — but the trail ended right there in the middle of nowhere. It was like whatever left those dragging marks had completely vanished in thin air.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump

He went back and forth a few times to be absolutely certain he hadn't missed anything. To make sure he had followed the right track.

“Sire?” His knights waited for orders.

He shouldn't have to order, it should be obvious.

“Find me that dollophead.”

The knights looked at each other in doubt.

“Find him!” Arthur shouted, making the knights nod and move away in separate directions.

Arthur went back to where the trail ended, but the sight was the same. Someone was dragged away to where he stood now by two other people, and then they all vanished. There were no signs of horses or carriages, no more footsteps and no more signs of bodies being dragged.

The only option left was magic, but why would a sorcerer choose to kidnap a servant instead of attack the prince? It didn't make sense.

The trees closed in around him, his chest tightened and his breathing came in short, shallow gasps. The weight of the scene finally sinking in.

Merlin was gone.

Arthur didn't know what had happened to him, and he had no trail left to follow nor any sign that he was still alive.

His breaths seemed to be racing against his heart, both going faster and faster. Arthur dropped to a crouch, squeezed his eyes shut and raked both his hands through his hair, gripping tightly.

°•°§°•°

Merlin woke up cold and in pain. It took him a few minutes to fully come to his senses — his head had a sharp pain and he felt dizzy. His arms hurt from holding his own weight up, and his whole body seemed to weigh twenty times more than what it was supposed to.

He couldn't see anything when he managed to open his eyes; wherever he was didn't have any windows, and no torches were lit.

He was hanging from his wrists.

He felt the bite of the chains on them and straightened up to try to put some of his weight on his feet, even if they barely reached the ground.

Next, Merlin tried to remember what had happened — the weird sluggishness he felt, clouding his mind.

They were attacked and Merlin secretly helped the knights with his magic from behind some trees, as he usually does. Then there was nothing.

Did somebody hit his head from behind? That would explain the ringing in his ear and the pounding in his head. Was that what fallen branches felt like when he made them drop on bandits' heads?

He needed to get out of there and go back to Arthur.

Just when he was about to reach for his magic to try and get out, he heard the familiar sound of a door opening, followed by echoing footsteps.

When the footsteps stopped, a second door opened — this time in front of him, — and the brightness that suddenly flooded the room blinded him for a second, forcing him to close his eyes.

He heard them come in closer and cracked his eyes slightly open.

There were two of them, one walked around the room lighting the wall’s torches with his own. The other made his way straight to Merlin, lifting his torch close to Merlin’s face. “Well, well, look who finally woke up.”

He fought to keep his eyes open — the usually kind caress of torchlight, burning like a thousand suns before Merlin’s eyes.

The man had a scar across his face and was missing a tooth, and Merlin couldn’t escape his sour breath when the man laughed. “When we were told that the closest person to the Regent was his servant, we thought this would be the easiest job we ever took.”

He paced away. The other man stood by the wall next to the door with his arms crossed, he had longer hair that went to his shoulders. Both men were wearing dark clothes, but Hairy had a black cape where Scarface didn't.

“However!” Scarface turned around suddenly, “we were both very surprised to notice that the skinny little weak servant of the prince’s eyes turned gold.

Merlin froze, the scowl he had managed to put on during Scarface’s rambling weakened as the surprise hit his eyes. They had seen him.

He decided to act and reached for his magic to throw them away from him — maybe make them pass out — but his magic didn’t surface, and nothing happened. His head snapped up to where his wrists were chained up, and his eyes goggled.

That the chains were made of cold iron was an educated guess, and an expected one, but what brought true horror to his face was the thinner bracelet below those chains on both his hands. They weren't connected and didn’t seem designed to physically restrain him — the ring wasn’t skin-tight and even slipped down Merlin’s arms. Despite being thinner, they were heavier, and while the chains cut up his wrists raw, the marks carved into the bracelets were the ones that concerned him most.

He felt a chill run down his spine while the laughter from Scarface resonated through the walls. Cold iron — while very effective in neutralizing usual magic users — didn’t completely stop him from using his magic. He would be weaker, but not helpless.

This thing, though. This was different.

“I see you’ve found our toys. Aren’t they pretty? I doubt a peasant like you has ever worn something so fancy before.” Merlin didn’t look at him, he was focused on the carvings. The ringing in his ears got louder, and his head didn’t seem to pound as much when compared to the beating of his heart.

“It was a witch who kindly shared the secret for successfully binding someone's magic, you’d think it’d be common knowledge with how often magic users are hunted down, but to our surprise it turns out most people don’t know anything stronger than the good old cold iron.”

Binding someone's magic. It echoed in Merlin’s head as the man kept talking.

“Good for us, I say. Magic users are surprisingly more open to talk once they realize there’s really nothing they can do.” He laughed again.

Merlin snapped back at him with a scowl on his face, anger suddenly burning through his body. “What do you want?”

“How kind of you to ask, so polite.” He turned his head to his friend, “they are never this polite, are they?”

Hairy didn't answer, he didn’t move at all. In fact, he looked bored by his mate’s talking.

Scar turned back with a smile, “here’s the deal, scrawny, you will tell us what we want to know and my buddy will stay back there, bored out of his mind.”

“And when I don’t?”

Scarface’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, his already deformed face twisted with something evil and an interested smirk grew ominously. “Trust me, darling, you don’t want to give him a reason to leave that wall.”

Merlin looked back at Hairy. He was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and didn't seem to be paying any attention to them.

“Now,” Scarface smiled, “why don't we begin?”

Merlin's cold gaze was still fired by his anger. It wasn't the first time he was kidnapped, he knew the drill. They would ask, he wouldn't answer, and then they would beat him up.

It was nothing he couldn't handle.

Still, the cold of the bracelets made for an eerie reminder that this time, he was really on his own. Not a single spark of magic would rise for his aid, and he wouldn't be able to save himself.

A chill ran down his spine when Scarface stepped closer.

°•°§°•°

The knights of Camelot rode after their Prince with quick strides. They had looked for Merlin throughout the night and part of the morning before the prince decided they needed backup. Their horses galloped through the gates of Camelot’s castle bringing with them an overwhelming sense of urgency.

Leon rushed to Arthur’s side before the man’s feet had the chance to hit the ground. “Sire?”

“Gather the knights in the war room,” Arthur didn’t stop, marching quickly through the courtyard straight to the castle’s doors. “We are separating into groups, our goal is to cover the largest amount of land in the quickest time.”

“What is going on, Sire?”

“Merlin is gone!” Arthur said, not looking back and not stopping, and that was all Leon needed to know before turning away, ready to gather as many knights as he could find.

Before the hour was over, the war room was filled and ready for action. Unfortunately, the plans were being delayed by Uther’s council who protested against the amount of knights the prince wanted to send for one servant.

“Unacceptable! The amount of resources, and time!” Said one of them.

“Not to mention the way this would weaken our defenses.” Another nodded in agreement.

“King Uther would never…” A third one started, but was interrupted by Arthur himself. “My father is not here to make a decision.”

He met the eyes of each lord with a stern gaze, before continuing:

“We will send search parties for Merlin. That is not up for debate and trying to change my mind about this will only be a waste of everyone's time.”

Arthur rose to his feet and leaned on the table, his eyes fixed on the map spread before him. “Whoever — or whatever — took Merlin must be tied to the disappearances along Mercia's borders. That was why we went there in the first place. I’m sure that finding him will uncover the truth behind those events and allow us to put an end to the threat once and for all.”

When no more protests came forth, he continued:

“The parties will be separated into the usual groups of five and six,” Arthur started to separate them, pointing on the map where each group should go. Elyan, Percival, Leon and Gwaine were each assigned party leaders and a region where they should start.

Before he could assign Lancelot his region, Gwaine asked: “What about Mercia itself, sire? If he disappeared near the border there's a chance he’s no longer in Camelot.”

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, “I plan to lead a party through Mercia myself.”

The room exploded in a cacophony of voices, the lords rising to their feet to loudly protest their disagreement. There were so many complaints that Arthur couldn't really make out what exactly they were, though he had a good idea.

“Sire, if I may.” Agravaine stepped closer, and when Arthur nodded the room quieted to hear him.“Perhaps our lordships would feel more at ease if they knew Camelot’s Regent and only legitimate heir to the throne, was staying safely inside the castle's walls.”

He paced around the room, meeting the lord’s eyes and gesturing to their direction slightly. “We are all, of course, deeply concerned with Merlin’s well being and want him home as quickly as possible. But since Your Highness is already assigning so many of our bravest knights to this noble quest, perhaps it would be for the best to stay behind and wait for your men to report back with their findings.”

The lords behind Agravaine started to nod their agreement.

“Not to mention, Sire,” he continued. “The implications of going over the border yourself without notice.”

Arthur felt trapped, he wanted to go himself — it wasn't that he didn't trusted his men, he had trained them himself, but Merlin was his responsibility, his problem, his friend, his — but with the many protests and arguments that he couldn't rebut properly, he found he didn't have a choice but stay behind.

"Very well then, Lancelot shall lead a party through Mercia's border from their side. I'll stay behind and make sure King Bayard is properly informed of the situation.

Another round of murmured protests came from the Lords, but none dared to push their luck any further by speaking up, their prince would stay behind and they knew that was the only change of plans Arthur would allow.

"You are all dismissed." Arthur said to the rest of his court, before addressing his knights "I wish you all good luck, and I hope to hear from each of you soon enough."

He looked each of them in the eye, and found nothing but unwavering determination. "bring Merlin home."

And with this final words, the knights took off hurriedly, their steps echoing through the walls as they made their way to the courtyard. Their friend was missing, and every single one of them was willing to stay in the forest until they got him back.

°•°§°•°

Merlin didn't know how long he had been in that room.

He had been starved, beaten, nearly drowned, and he was sure he had something broken somewhere. Without the aid of his magic to soften the blows, the pain he had been put through so far had been ten times worse then what it usually was when he did have his magic.

If he were a weaker man, he know he would've cracked by now.

He heard the echoing footsteps that signified his captors approach and mentally prepared himself for another round.

Scarface came in, slamming the door strong enough to make it hit the wall — he liked to make a big entrance everytime, and if the sound of it hitting the wall worsen Merlin's headache, well, that was a bonus.

"Good morning, darling!" He came towards Merlin with excited steps, and posted himself right on Merlin's face, grabbing it with his dirty hands.

"I'm very disappointed in you, darling. I thought we had something between us, especially after all this time we spend together." He mocked being sad, before giving a full belly laugh. He did that a lot.

"But, it has become clear to us that you're not much of a chatter-mouth, unfortunately." He pouted. "That's why, darling, I'm sad to inform that our time together has come to an end."

Merlin froze, panic rising through his chest.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll still see each other. I wouldn't want to miss the show, now, would I?" He laughed again.

Just then, Merlin noticed Hairy moving around the room on the background. That raised more alarms to his head. Hairy had, so far, stick to his spot on the wall. Merlin couldn't see what exactly he was doing — Scarface seemed to be purposefully blocking his view — but the fact that he was actually inside the room at all and not just standing by the door, was concerning enough.

"Most people would say that I'm the good guy, you know?" Scarface brought his attention back to him, his voice was quieter than it had ever been. "Don't get me wrong, I do like the bit that I do. It's interesting work, but honestly? Watching my friend there do his thing is quite entertaining, he's almost an artist."

He glanced back and Merlin saw Hairy approaching. "You should have answered my questions, boy." Was the last thing Scarface said before Hairy reached them. He took a step back so they could stand side by side, both staring at Merlin.

He still couldn't see why Hairy was walking around the room — both him and Scarface blocked his vision of the room like a human wall — and the uncertainty of what would happen made him anxious.

"How do you want to start?" Scarface asked Hairy.

Suddenly, Hairy pulled a dagger out of nowhere and aimed it in Merlin's direction, his hand moving quickly.

Merlin braced himself for the pain of being stabbed, closing his eyes tightly.

He didn't have to, though, instead of pain he was suddenly hit by cold air that made goosebumps run across his body. He kept his eyes closed still, waiting for what was next on Hairy's agenda now that he had his chest bare and at their mercy.

"Now what do we have here? You are full of surprises, aren't you, darling?" Scarface said before — once again — laughing loudly.

Merlin opened his eyes and looked at them with confusion. Why had they stopped?

He kept looking from one to the other, looking for the answer. It wasn't until he paid closer attention to Hairy that he figured it out. Hairy had frozen in place, dagger still in his hands, and eyes staring at the same spot on Merlin's torso.

He felt his body go tense as realization struck him like a sudden slap. He didn't need to look down to know what they were seeing, and why they had stopped. And if he hadn't figured out by himself, Scarface would have clarified things when he excitedly asked: "But why didn't you tell us you were soulmates with the prince? Now, this changes things!"

He flung an arm around Hairy's shoulder, a sick smile on his face. "What do you think?"

Hairy stared at his soulmark a while longer before snapping his eyes to meet Merlin's. And if Scarface's smiles creeped him out, it was nothing compared to how Hairy's made him feel.

With the wicked grin still on his face, Hairy raised his dagger once more. Merlin tried to struggle away, but was held tightly in place by scarface. It didn't matter much, after so many days locked inside that place, Merlin didn't really had any strength left to physically fight them back.

The last thing Merlin remembered before passing out, were the coldness of the knife when it first touched the skin near his soulmark and the distant sound of someone screaming in pain.

°•°§°•°

Arthur paced around his room, constantly running a hand through his hair. A month.

Merlin had been gone for a month and still there were no news about him or any leads of where he could have been taken to.

"Check again."

Morgana sat at Arthur's table with a bowl of water. Everyday since Merlin's disappearance Arthur would knock on her door and ask her to try to find him with magic. "I've checked three times, Arthur, and the result is always the same. Wherever he is, my magic can't reach him."

"He's not dead, Morgana! I would know if he was, I would feel it."

"Nobody said that he was."

"They didn't have to! You think I don't known? Everybody thinks he's dead by now, that I'm crazy for wasting resources on a lunatic quest for a corpse they won't even find!" Arthur kept pacing.

"Arthur!" She placed herself in his way, resting her hands on his shoulders and trying to calm him with her eyes. "We are not going to give up on him, alright? Me, Gwen, our knights, we are all worried and we won't stop looking until we figure it out where he is , and when we do we will bring him home. Alive."

Arthur untangled himself from Morgana's grip and sagged down on his chair, face hidden in his hands. "It's my fault," he whispered, "I shouldn't have left him alone."

Morgana watched the messy state of her brother. While in court, Arthur presented himself as the proper Regent the lords expected him to be, but once he was around his friends — not that he knew they were his friends — Arthur's facade crumbled, and they could all see the worry and fear he felt for Merlin.

Day after day, his knights sent him reports about their findings — or rather, the lack of them — and Morgana watched the hope slowly disappear from his face everytime a new parchment came back with nothing new to report.

"It's not your fault, your idiot." She sat on the chair next to him. "If you want to blame anyone about this, you should blame me. I'm the seer, remember? I should have seen that it would happen."

"You aren't the one who kidnapped him, Morgana, of course it's not your fault." He lifted his face to reassure her.

Morgana had a small smile and looked at him like he had just stated the obvious.

When Arthur realized why, he frowned. "That's different, I was there."

"It's not, Arthur. You've been attacked a million times before and Merlin knows how to take care of himself on ambushes. It was unfortunate, but it wasn't your fault."

Arthur looked a her with tiredness in his eyes, "I'm glad we could put our differences behind us, Morgana," he smiled to her before pressing his fingers against his eyes, "I don't know what I would have done without your help."

"Probably stumble around the castle like a headless chicken." She smirked.

Arthur was startled by the sudden laugh that came out of him. "Yeah, probably."

The whole blood-related thing with magic on the side had been a mess, they fought a lot at the beginning until Morgana realized that Arthur wasn't like Uther. Still, even with Arthur's secret support of her magic and the promise of a safer Camelot in the future, their relationship hadn't been quite stable.

If this whole thing ended in tragedy — it wouldn't. He knew it wouldn't — then at least he was glad he would come out of it with a sister he was close with.

They were suddenly interrupted by loud knocks on his door, Arthur had barely managed to recompose himself before George barged in. "Sire!"

"George? what is going on?" Arthur jumped from his seat and reached for his sword, adrenaline suddenly pumping in his veins.

"It was the strangest thing, my lord." George was out of breath and dishevelled, sweat clung to his forehead and he spoke hurriedly, barely comprehensively. "The boy came out of nowhere, then I tried to see where he would go, I did! But he was just gone!"

"Hold on, George I can barely understand. A boy?"

"He had a message. A message for you, my lord. Said it was urgent."

Just then he notice the package in George's hand. He reached for it and while Morgana tried to calm the man down he inspected it.

It wasn't much anything, just a simple leather bag that could have belonged to anyone. He opened it up and inside he found a parchment and some type of fur or animal skin rolled up to fit inside the bag.

He went for the parchment first, if they went through all this trouble to send him a message, then he would hear it.

To his royal Highness, Prince Regent Arthur Pendragon of Camelot I believe this belongs to you.

Arthur frowned to the paper and looked back inside the bag. He hadn't lost any animal fur, he hadn't even had time for hunts since he became the regent.

Reaching inside the bag with a frown, Arthur retrieved the animal fur from it and tried to see if there was anything special to it. It seemed normal enough, the skin had been rolled up like a sleeping bag and holding it closed was a small belt. He reached for the buckle and opened it, letting the fur unravel towards the ground.

When the fur unfolded, he heard the sound of something else hitting the ground. He looked down and saw what it appeared to be a piece of leather, or maybe more animal skin.

He placed the animal fur on the back of his chair and crouched down to pick up whatever it was. His eyebrows furred and his nose scrunched up while he examined the weird thing. It did look like leather, but it felt wrong on the hand and the colour didn't seem right. He stood up still examining it, confused on what it could be.

He flipped it over to look at the other side.

'Arthur Pendragon'

His breathing suddenly hitched, his heart beat faster in his chest and goosebumps run across his entire body, raising the hairs from his arms and nape. He stumbled back, managing to take three steps before he hit the table and toppled it over to the ground with him.

"Arthur!?" Morgana ran to his side.

Arthur felt nauseated, he kept his eyes at the black swirly curls hoping they would disappear, that it was a lie. He heard Morgana gasp once she saw what he had in his hands.

His eyes met hers, they were wide open and teared, his face was pale, and a whirlwind of emotions fought for control. "Tell me it's fake," he begged.

Morgana wasn't faring much better, shock froze her in place. "Tell me it's fake!" Arthur screamed, shaking her back to life. She dropped down to her knees next to where Arthur had fallen and gently hovered her hands over the words. With her eyes closed she reached for them with her magic.

When she opened them again, tears ran down her face and she met Arthur's eyes with an apologetic look. "It's real."

Arthur broke eye contact and hunched over it, "leave me."

"Arthur…"

"Leave me!"

Morgana hesitated, but decided to do his bidding. She stood up, and noticed that George was still in the room, his face paler than Arthur's nightclothes. She signed for him to follow and together they left Arthur's chambers, worried about their prince's reaction.

Arthur stayed on the ground, thick tears fell down his face and he sobbed over his soulmate's skin. Losing Merlin had taken it's toll on him, leaving him emotionally unstable as he fought to ignore his feelings and focus on his kingdom and on planning the next strategy to find him; now, beside losing Merlin, someone had found his soulmate and hurt them.

He tried to focus his vision through the blurring tears, his eyes going over the fancy loops that formed his soulmate's mark. His name. His stupid name that had gotten them kidnapped and hurt.

His eyes began to dry as sudden rage filled his heart. Someone out there had found his soulmate and decided to use them to reach him. His head snapped back to where he has left the note, heart pumping his anger through his body, giving him purpose.

When he reached the note, he was surprised to see new words appearing on the parchment. They asked for a ransom and provided a location and time, as well as instructions that Arthur wouldn't bother to follow.

He marched out of his chambers, straight to the war room. He needed to strategize and he needed maps. He would also need his knights.

The realization almost made him stop on his track. Sirs Leon, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan and Percival were, of course, looking for Merlin. But if he was to go after his soulmate —because this time he would go, not going after Merlin had almost killed him, he wouldn't be stopped a second time — he would need people he trusted.

Arthur mulled over the last reports he received in his head. He knew Leon would be back by tomorrow — originally to restock and regroup before leaving once more — and Elyan and Percival were closer by than the others.

Once he reached the war room he went straight to the map, leaning over it. He would have to be careful. And no matter what, he would not stop the search for Merlin. Soulmate or not, Merlin was still a priority.

He focused on the map and on the information he had so far, and started to work on a plan.

°•°§°•°

Merlin kept going in and out of consciousness, the pain he felt was too much to bare, every second he spent awake was painfully torturous and he would pass out before he could be aware of his surroundings.

He didn't see his captors again, or at least not that he noticed. Darkness seemed to surround him in every direction and he couldn't tell the difference between reality and delusion anymore.

His mind spiralled with images both from his friends and from his captors. Gwen's smile turned into Scarface's laugh which echoed for painful instants before changing into Gwaine's. He heard Leon's voice saying his name and saw Elyan and Percival standing in front of him before their figures morphed into Hairy and Scarface.

He felt Arthur's arms around him. That one he knew was an illusion, just his mind giving him something good to hang on to. He didn't care. He let his mind wrap him up in Arthur's warmth and begged for the gods that they would let him stay there. And if he were to die, to let him die in the illusion of having Arthur's arms hugging him and lulling him to sleep.

Arthur's arms didn't stay, though. After what it seemed both forever and mere seconds, he felt them letting go of him, and he felt cold.

Suddenly a new feeling emerged from somewhere withing himself, overflowing him with familiar warmth that he hadn't felt in a long while. It spread through him like a raging sea, reaching for every corner of his body and mind, not settling until it had consumed him entirely. He revelled at the feeling.

He felt himself waddle through the fog of his mind, following the sound of muttered words that he couldn't really hear.

It was like he was under a thick blanket, the thickest he has ever seen, and couldn't really get out from under it.

He kept trying, though. He pushed and pushed and pushed until he finally could get through.

He was blinded by sudden light and his heart beat faster.

Light.

How long had he stayed in the darkness that just the small hint of light brought tears to his eyes?

"Merlin? Are you awake, my boy?"

°•°§°•°

It took Merlin a week to wake up.

A week since Arthur left the castle to find his soulmate, only to find Merlin in their place.

Merlin who hanged from his wrists covered in wounds and dried blood, passed out cold.

Arthur thought he was dead when he first saw him. He ran to his side and took him down into his arms, frantically looking for his pulse. When he found it — weak but still beating — he cradled his face and cried over him, filled with relief, concern and guilt. It wasn't until Leon entered the room, surprised to see Merlin on his arms, that Arthur remembered he was supposed to be there for his soulmate.

He spent the ride home — quick gallops flying with the wind, trying to reach Gaius as fast as possible — trying to figure out what had happened.

Only after he was alone in his room — Gaius tossing him out from his tower — that he remembered that Merlin had already told him.

'I'm not a match with my soulmate.'

Arthur felt his knees weaken and his breath caught in his throat as the conversation from that night flooded his brain.

'I could never make them choose.'

'If I have to watch them be happy from a distance then that's what I'm going to do, all it matters to me is that they are happy.'

'I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt, because it does.'

'I love my soulmate, Arthur'

'I love my soulmate. Arthur.'

'I love you'

Arthur didn't sleep that night and spend the week waiting for Merlin to wake up. He needed an explanation. He needed to know why.

He gave Merlin an extra day to rest before going to see him. He had every intention to let him talk, to be calm and try to comprehend.

He entered Merlin's chambers and for a second he forgot about the whole thing.

His heart swelled at the sight of his smile. He still looked weak, but much better than he had been before. Arthur took a step in, wanting to hug him, to be next to him, to call him an idiot for have worried him so much. To cry in relief that he was awake and alive.

Then his eyes fell to Merlin's shoulder, where his name was peaking out off the bandages, and he felt himself tense up.

Soulmarks couldn't be erased, even if someone tried to remove them —like those monsters did to Merlin — they would eventually show up someplace else.

Merlin looked confused for a second before following his gaze and tensing up himself. He didn't look back up. They stayed in silence for long minutes, Arthur staring at him and Merlin looking down at his hands, unwilling to speak up.

"Say something, Merlin"

Merlin shrugged, "there's nothing much to say."

Arthur felt a sharp pain through his heart, Merlin's dismissal clashed against his already messed up feelings and he felt sudden anger start to bloom.

"How can you say that? Nothing much to say?"

"It's not important."

"Not..? I had the right to know!"

"And I had the right to not tell you!" Merlin's head sprang up, his voice raising to match Arthur's.

They snapped at each other.

"God dammit, Merlin! You didn't give me a choice, I had the right to choose and you took that away from me!"

"The right to choose? And what choice would that have been, Arthur? Are you saying you could've just let go of your soulmate? Forsaken that name you spent your whole bloody life thinking about?" Merlin shook his head "And for what? For the clumsy idiot of a servant that you barely ever have the balls to call friend?"

That was a low blow, Merlin knew that, and despite Arthur's hardest efforts to hide, Merlin could see its effect showing in his eyes.

He continued his desperate rant, not giving Arthur any chances to talk.

"What would happen later, then? When your actual soulmate shows up on your doorstep? Was I supposed to just pretend to not be hurt? Should I thank you for the time you gave me, for the generous, generous act of staying with me while you waited for your true match to show up?"

He spat the words with a sarcastic tone.

"I wouldn't have gone back on my word if..."

"I don't want your fucking word, Arthur!" He screamed, interrupting.

Arthur surrendered himself to his hurt, he felt hot anger burning through his body and he lashed out, blinded by rage he didn't know he had.

"What do you want, then, Merlin?!? A marriage proposal?! Should I shower you with expensive gifts, crawl on my knees and beg you to wed me?"

Those could have been warm, intense and passionate words, a confession even, but the sarcasm and the anger that dripped from every word, revealed the poisonous malice in them.

Arthur's sky-blue eyes were so dark with anger that they almost seemed black.

"Is that what you want? For me to beg? Should I make it public, then? Give you and Camelot the whole spectacle of having me before you on my knees!"

Merlin's heart crumbled, he felt the fight leave his body and a sudden cold that began in his stomach went through him like lightning. He was exhausted and hurt, he had been for weeks, but somehow he hadn't felt defeated.

Scarface and Hairy might have gotten to his body, maybe a little to his mind, but Merlin still had his spirit, his heart. No matter what, that part of him still shone bright and alive, always able to get him through the ugliest of the storms. Until now.

Merlin sagged down looking back at his hands, and with teary eyes, he gave up.

"Let it go, Arthur."

"You can't just expect me.."

His head snapped back at Arthur, anger growing in his chest.

"I'm not expecting shit. That was the cruellest fucking thing you ever said to me.”

Thick tears went down his face, he didn't care.

Arthur felt like he was suddenly slapped. The anger he felt had blinded him and he spoke without thinking, forgetting who he was talking to. His heart crushed at the realization of what he had said and how he had said it. He wanted to take it back, but didn't know how.

"I never wanted you to give up anything; never wanted any promises that I knew you couldn't keep." Merlin started.

He had never looked at Arthur like that, not even on those first days at Camelot, when he thought he hated Arthur. His eyes were hurt, angry, and cold.

"You're going to walk out of this room and forget you know anything about my soulmark. You will pretend nothing happened and we won't ever talk about this again." He spoke in a whispered tone; his voice was raspy but firm, despite the lump in his throat

Arthur's mouth was shut tightly, a small twitch could be seen on his jaw. He was still angry, but the guilt and regret he felt kept him from lashing out again.

Merlin's eyes weren't as dark as before, but they were intense and the tears still rained down his cheeks as he spoke.

"Now get the fuck out of my chambers."

Arthur stared at Merlin's eyes for a while longer before turning around, opening Merlin's door, and walking away, slamming the door with all his frustration and anger.

He walked past Gaius, who was pretending to not have heard the discussion, and marched out of the physician's tower without looking back.

He walked through the hallways blinded by rage, frustration and guilt; servants and guards quickly got out of his way as he passed, noticing the storm that followed him.

He entered his chambers and slammed his door as well, walking straight to his desk. He rested both his hands on the back of his chair and leaned there for a while, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.

He felt wetness on his face and a burning pain on his heart.

The chair flew through the room and hit a wall, where it broke in three separate parts, an agonizing scream following its demise.

Arthur paced and threw things, his vision blurred, and when he couldn't walk anymore he fell to the floor, leaning against his bed.

He brought his knees closer to his chest where he rested his elbows, and buried his face in his hands. One single word danced around his head.

Why?

It was so unfair.

He felt weak, so tired of this month and everything that had happened. Hating himself for what he had said.

After a while, anger started to resurface: anger about Merlin, who had lied and given him no choice; anger about himself, who had hurt Merlin; anger about the people who had kidnapped him and started this whole mess; but most of all, anger about the Fates, who had denied him the chance to match with his best friend.

He jumped up, grabbed his sword, and marched down to the training grounds.

°•°§°•°

The days passed with Merlin still bedridden. The aftereffects of the magic-binding bracelets made his magic weak and unstable, unable to help him heal as fast as it usually would.

Arthur didn't come back to visit, and Merlin didn't know how he felt about it. He was still hurt and somewhat angry, but he couldn't help but miss his Prince.

When the day came where Merlin could, at last, return to his duties as Arthur’s servant, he hadn’t seen him in over two weeks. Time seemed to slow down as he entered the prince’s chambers. Arthur was already dressed and sat at his desk, reading over some papers.

Merlin saw Arthur’s shoulders tense right as he entered. Neither of them said anything, and Merlin proceeded to do his tasks feeling the heaviness of the room.

Arthur didn’t look at him, didn’t give him any absurd chores, didn’t ask for his help or his advice with any of his documents. When Merlin had to help him put on his armour, he did so with the utmost care not to touch him, not to meet his eyes.

Merlin cried himself to sleep that night, quietly sobbing on his pillow the ache off his heart.

The days went by once more, Merlin no longer followed Arthur everywhere. He polished his armour and sharpened his sword in the armoury; he folded and mended his clothes in the laundry room; he cleaned Arthur’s chambers when he was busy with either knight’s training or council meetings, which Merlin no longer took part in.

He only saw Arthur in the mornings when he had to wake him up — always on time and with a polite knock on the door — when he had to bring his meals — still hot and untouched — or when he had to prepare his baths and dress him up — careful not to touch him more than necessary.

Merlin had become the perfect servant, he didn’t speak unless spoken to — and on the extremely rare occasions where he did, it was always with the appropriate title — he didn’t make eye contact, and bowed to the Prince Regent both in acknowledgement and before leaving his presence. He had successfully become part of the decoration, invisible to everyone unless needed, as a servant was supposed to.

He had never been so miserable in his life.

The pain he felt had long subsided into something less, but somehow mutated into something more. He was just so tired. Longing had shifted into mourning, and the dull ache he felt — that weird mix of nothingness and heaviness that clung into him, making him wish he could just lay there on his bed forever — had become his most loyal companion.

His magic was inconsolable, it still longed for Arthur’s presence every single day, sneakily it tried to reach him, to just for a second revel in the warm light that was Arthur. Having to reel it in every day before it did something stupid, was one of the hardest things Merlin had to do, especially when he wanted to do the same thing himself.

His friends had tried to help, they really did. But there was nothing they could say to help, not really.

The one month mark came and went by, and if Merlin had had any hopes that they could still talk this off, he couldn't find it anymore. He hadn’t reached out to Arthur, at first out of anger, then out of hurt. Now he simply hadn’t the strength anymore. And if Arthur wanted to fix things, he would have said, or more likely, done something — something stupid, and with all the tact of someone with zero emotional intelligence — by now.

Arthur didn’t want to fix things.

He had once learned how to be content with the idea of not being Arthur’s soulmate. Now, he simply had to learn to accept he would never be nothing more than a bystander, watching as his heart lived his own life away from him.

He had to relearn how to live without Arthur.

With his mind made up, he walked from his chambers to Arthur’s in a daze. It seemed like he had just left the physician’s tower when he found himself facing the prince’s door, a fist raised up, ready to knock just like he had been doing these past weeks.

He stared at his fist and was suddenly overwhelmed with his feelings. His ears started to ring, tears surged in his eyes and he felt breathless, panting more as the ringing seemed to grow louder.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to push his feelings as well as the traitorous tears, back down to where they should have stayed. He stayed there for a long while, breathing and just listening to his heartbeat calming him down.

Once he opened his eyes again, he felt more himself then he had in goddess knows how long. He felt resolute, and calm. His heart ached still, but that had been there since before the ambush.

With a certainty he hadn’t had in a while, he reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open without knocking.

Arthur sat at his desk going over some documents. Merlin noticed how his shoulders tensed upon hearing him walk in, and he turned his head slightly to the right, looking in Merlin’s direction with a brief side glance before facing forward again.

“My lord,” Merlin started and he watched as Arthur stopped moving completely, his back tensing even more. Merlin understood, he hadn’t started an interaction with Arthur in who knows how long. “I have received news from Ealdor.”

That made Arthur turn and face Merlin. And for the first time in what it felt like forever, Merlin met Arthur’s sky-blue eyes — the ones that he loved with all his might — with his own, and stayed there, planning on maintaining eye contact the whole time he spoke.

Arthur’s eyes were guarded, but Merlin knew him — by the gods, did Merlin know him — and was relieved when he didn’t find any anger there. The only thing he saw was mild concern.

Merlin’s heart beat on his chest, alive once more. Arthur’s gaze, testing his decision.

“Good news.” He said, intended to reassure the prince, but just like that — after a small glimpse of relief crossed his eyes — Arthur shut himself up and presented his court face. His emotions now secure away from Merlin’s eyes.

“Apparently Ealdor has been graced with what is looking like a very fortunate season, crops have reportedly grown in such abundance as not seen in decades.” Merlin didn’t leave his place by the door. Arthur’s eyes watched him, waiting.

“With blessing of this nature, the village has come together to seek help with this next harvest season.” Understanding gleamed in Arthur’s eyes, but he remained silent, waiting for Merlin’s request that he knew was coming.

“If it would be agreeable with your highness, I would like to formally request permission to—” He cut himself short, it felt wrong, the formality in which he spoke — even if that’s what he had been doing lately. He cleared his throat trying to restart. He didn’t have to, though.

“You want to go home.” Arthur spoke — for the first time since their fight, something that wasn’t an order.

“Yes.”

“To help with the harvest season.”

Merlin’s eyes flickered away and back for a second. “That’s the plan, yes.”

Arthur nodded and looked away himself. “You have my permission, Merlin.”

For a moment there, Merlin thought he sounded resigned. He dismissed it as wishful thinking.

“Harvest is upon us, I assume you will be leaving soon.” He turned away, going back to his papers. “Take as many provisions as you deem necessary.”

Merlin nodded to Arthur’s back, grieving the loss of eye contact. “I will be leaving as soon as I finish packing, if that’s alright with you.

Arthur grunted his agreement and added: “take one of the knights with you.”

Surprise surged in Merlin’s face. “I don’t—”

“That’s the condition if you want to go”

Merlin lowered his head — was Arthur… concerned about him? — before shaking his thoughts away. “As you wish, my lord.”

He waited a few seconds. A heartbeat, two, when it was clear they were both done with talking, he prepared himself to leave the room. “By your leave?”

Once again Arthur turned his head slightly to the right, and without looking at him, nodded his dismissal.

He turned around and reached for the doorknob, he stopped. This moment felt final, and he realized that once he walked through that door, he wouldn’t be seeing Arthur again. At least, not for a long while.

He felt his magic protesting again, wanting to go to Arthur. Merlin couldn’t deny it a goodbye, so he let it free.

Slowly it floated towards the prince, hesitantly, as if it was scared to do something wrong. Once it reached him, though, it embraced Arthur completely, softly caressing his skin.

Merlin had never hugged Arthur himself, but if it was anything like what he felt through his magic, he lamented the fact.

“Goodbye, Arthur.” Merlin whispered to the room, and he saw when Arthur stopped moving.

His magic retreated, and just when Merlin was about to leave, Arthur turned around again.

His eyes were soft and he carried an hesitant, sad, smile. “Send Hunith my regards.”

They nodded to each other.

Seconds passed, and when Merlin couldn’t bear to stay there any longer, he turned away, closing the door behind him with a quiet shut.

Within the hour, two horses could be seen leaving the gates of Camelot.

Merlin rode away without looking back, with unshed tears in his eyes and a heaviness in his heart that weighed him down completely, burying with each step his last hopes of recovering the bond he used to have with Arthur.

He made his way home, not knowing what his future would look like. He knew Arthur would still need him in Camelot — the prophecy that bound them together still had to be fulfilled — but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t know what his role would be.

All he knew was that he had lost, permanently, the trust and friendship of the only man he would ever be able to love with every drop of his being.

He hoped that with time, the pain that crushed his heart would be bearable enough, and that his heart would learn to accept that he and Arthur were simply not meant to be close in any way known to men.

°•°§°•°

Leaning against the wall, Arthur watched from his window as Merlin rode away, Lancelot following him close by.

He noticed Merlin didn't spare a single glance to the place he had called home for so many years — he didn't blame him.

He stayed there, following Merlin with his eyes as he disappeared into the horizon — his heart wearing thinner and thinner as Merlin inched away from him — until long after he had disappeared from his sight.

He had done the right thing. He must have.

The past weeks had been the hardest of his entire life. He had never been so miserable; never had a task so arduously difficult as this one. Watching Merlin distance himself, seeing him slip through his fingers straight into the role of a simple servant, as if he was just another passerby in Arthur's life. It had been too much for him to bear.

He stared blankly at the place Merlin had disappeared, lost in his thoughts.

He cursed the Fates for the choices they had made. If Merlin wasn't meant to be his soulmate, then why make him Merlin's? Why make Merlin the most important person in his life, but not THE most important person in his life?

If he wasn't supposed to love Merlin back, then why did his heart seem to wear thin when he vanished beyond the horizon?

A part of him hoped Merlin would come back, that he would scream at him, curse him, call him names once more. It was a foolish wish, a selfish wanting that he had bravely fought against, and won.

The prize for his battle had been Merlin's freedom.

Arthur knew he had hurt Merlin — he had destroyed their friendship and crushed any chance of it ever being something else. But he hoped that with that, with the absolute certainty that Arthur didn't want him, Merlin would move on. Maybe someday Arthur would hear whispers about how an old servant — the one that used to follow the prince around — had just had his third child, with his lovely wife whom he loved so dearly and who loved him back.

Time passed, the room grew colder, and after the sun had set and the moon shone through the night sky, he was snatched away from his daze by the sound of knocks on his door. George's familiar voice came through, reminding him that, even though it shouldn't, the world kept moving on with or without Merlin's presence.

He tried to shake away the gruesome realization that he had purposefully lost not only his best friend, but the only person Arthur had learned to love. If it was in a romantic way or not, it didn't matter anymore. And if the Fates were to be trusted, it never did.

Princes didn't cry, it simply wasn't done. But if his fingers brushed his skin to wipe away sudden wetness, no one would be the wiser.

"Come in." He said to the door, and turned away from his window, trying to continue his life as if nothing important was missing.

End of Act.II

Hello everyone! (waves from behind a safety wall) I'm sorry it took so long to update this, work got really busy this past month but I'm officially on vacation! (yay!) I want to thank everybody for the love I got on Act.I, I know I didn't answer any comments but I hope you know how much every note I got there meant to me. You guys got me through this month. Thank you with all my heart.💖 Also, I think I should say: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! I spend the past two days trying to finish this in time for the 24th but wasn't fast enough. The 25th will do, though. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that it could make you happy ☺️ (Smiles in Alex Vlahos' Mordredmas) And I'm sorry this post was so big, I don't know how that happened. (it's 11k words, guys) I left out so much background plot that was trying to sneak in — if you see something you think seems random it's because I had to get rid of plot or I wouldn't finish this ever — but even with all my getting rid of things it still ended up this big. I feel weird making it just the one post but the original idea was that all of this happened on Act II so I'm keeping it like that. I still have some figuring out to do for Act III, but I'm already writing it. I do want to try to finish it this year, but since I have never finished any story that I wrote in my life, I will give myself time to do it without pressure. So no promises as to when I'll be posting it. I will post it, though, and happy ending is still a promise. If you'd like to be added or removed from my "people to tag" list, please let me know ( I hate assuming, makes my anxiety go wild) Quick and usual reminder that english is not my first language, and that I barely edited this at all, so forgive me for any mistakes and weird formatting. I hope you guys have a great season and fantastic new year. Don't forget to keep warm if you are somewhere cold, to drink lots of water, and remember to take your medicine if you have any. 💜

#merlinfic #merthur #soulmates au #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #angst #angst with a happy ending #eventual happy ending #yes it is emrys

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livelovelaughgeto · 12 days ago

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The worst trend ever. Well at least that’s what Atsumu Miya thinks.

Giddy giggles that meant no good escaped your lips as you tried to compose yourself, gnawing on your bottom lip and actively jumping on your heels. Oh, this was gonna be so fun.

The store-bought cake sat in front of you two, Atsumu eyeing you warily from the corner of his eye, running a hand through his overgrown roots with a purse of his lips.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Tikok. He’s not better than his brain-rotted friends, Suna and Bokuto. Let’s please put emphasis on Suna. He’s the worst.

But he more so likes the cute trends you two actively participate in. Like the recent one, from last week. Atsumu lifting you up and placing your body up on his shoulder, all neat and impressive. Yeah, with that one audio from the iconic diva, Sabrina Carpenter that scored ultimately high on his Spotify wrap? And he is NOT ashamed. He’s a proud boyfriend who likes to show how cute and amazing of a boyfriend he can be for you. So what? But this? This is just degrading.

“WHAT?” He exclaims, getting up from his chair and profusely shaking his head in utter disbelief. He is utterly gagged.

“Were you silenced or were you silent?” You shot back, throwing your head back and clasping a hand on your mouth.

“Yer joking right?! The goddamn bee from the BEE movie?!” He howls out, dragging a hand down his face as you utterly lose it. A string of boisterous laughter erupts from your shaking figure.

“What does that ugly ass bee have that I don’t?” He sputters out, with furrowed brows and crossed arms, glaring down at you as if this bee (Barry, get it right.) from the Bee movie was competing with an MSBY pro volleyball player. This was serious business to Miya Atsumu.

“He—looks like you.” You wheeze out, slamming a fist on the counter, a hand wrapped around your stomach at the expense of Atsumu losing his mind.

Atsumu’s eyes widen three times the normal size, mouth agape accompanied by furrowed brows.

“I LOOK LIKE HIM?! Baby please yer hurting my soul!” Atsumu whines, completely devastated and wounded, turning around and pacing the kitchen area.

“If I’m ugly just say it! Is it my dye job? Do you want me to be more natural, go back to brunette? Do I need to ‘lock in’ and ‘rizz’ you up like Suna said I should?” He rambled, hands thrown in the air, shaking his head as if he had just received altering and life-changing news.

While you continued to cackle out ugly laughs and gasp for air, fumbling for your partner's hand to ground yourself from shitting yourself and calm Atsumu’s crash out.

“B-baby, baby, no your perfect. Perfect, mhm I promise.” You choked out, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away, small broken laughs slipping through the cracks of your lips.

He huffed like a reluctant child, all he needed to do now was a stomp of his legs and a pout. Atsumu scoffed, looking down at his nails and rolling his eyes.

The sassy man apocalypse started when he graced the world with his presence.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you twirled another paper cut-out character from underneath the table. You swallowed your bottom lip, eyes gazing up at his slowly before neatly sliding it into the frosted-up cake.

“IS THAT MEGA MIND?”

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #fluff #hear me out #viral trends #my fic #brain rot #i felt silly #I have an UGLY crush on this loser #miya atsumu x you #hakiyuu #timeskip

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herpsandbirds · 1 year ago

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Small Carpenter Bee (Ceratina bifida), female, family Apidae, Mount Carmel, Israel

photograph by Gideon Pisanty

#small carpenter bee #ceratina #bee #apidae #hymenoptera #insect #entomology #animals #nature #middle east

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thechillsquid · 2 months ago

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Giant Arthropods

Silverfish, Endermite, Bees, and more!

Shown above are some of the most well known and studied of the giant arthropods;

The Dungeon Silverfish (often just called a ‘silverfish’ despite the fact it is neither a true silverfish or a silver fish): A large predatory insect notable for their elongated bodies, habit to dwell in underground End dungeon locations, and their recorded habit of attacking in swarms. These insects are actually a kind of beetle, though living underground and growing to such massive sizes has reduced the need for wings and they’re secondarily wingless. While a single silverfish often will prey on smaller insects or mammals like rodents, they will attempt to hunt larger prey and in swarms can overwhelm a player.

The Endermite (also sometimes called an End Mite or Enderman Mite): While this species of massive mite (a type of arachnid related to scorpions, spiders, and ticks) is much rarer to actually encounter, as they are native to the End rather than the Overworld or Nether, they occasionally manage to fall through dimensional tears crated by enderpearl usage into the Overworld. While they are not venomous or known to swarm, they are highly aggressive and will attack if they feel their space is being threatened. They are more so scavengers/opportunistic feeders.

The Titan Bee (the largest species of bee that can currently be found in the Overworld): A generally peaceful species of massive bee similar in appearance to the more common and smaller carpenter bee. This species can often be found in large, open habitats, traveling from flower to flower as they collect food for their hives, which often are settled within oak or birch trees growing along the edge of forests. They are very fuzzy and will aggressively defend their hives from perceived threats, their massive size and subsquentially large venom sacs can cause nausea, dizziness, and sometimes fatal allergic reactions. In massive swarms they can kill even kill a player, though because of their massive size, they thankfully aren’t the fastest flyers and usually can be avoided. This being said, they are a high interest to those that enjoy honey and bee-keeping, and with the proper methods in place, keeping them is not difficult.

The Giant Bee (the second largest bee species in the overworld, much less common than their larger relative): Having a body plan similar to that of a bumble bee, this large species is commonly mistaken for young workers of the Titan Bee, however, unlike its larger relative, this species is almost exclusive found in forested biomes. Their smaller size helps them better maneuver in such areas but while much smaller, these bees are more prone to an aggressive response to disturbance of their hive. They often cause painful stings that can cause burning/itchy sensations or possibly more life threatening allergic reactions. Despite this, they are likewise prized for their honey and the fact that they are a lot easier for beginner or novice bee-keepers to manage than the larger Titan Bee, which can be more picky or selective in the hives they will accept.

While much more rarely talked about, there are a lot more giant species of arthropod, these are some of the more commonly discussed or encountered. Note this covers only a small proportion of the expansive types of arthropods one may find out in the world.

The Titan-Killer (this parasitoid wasp preys on the larva of the Titan bee, thus the name): This wasp will sneak into the hives of the Titan bee, piercing either cocooned bees and/or larva with its elongated ovipositor, laying its eggs on the unlucky individual. When the wasp’s eggs hatch, they will eat the developing bee/bee larva alive, pupating in the hive cell its host was inside, and emerge as new adults after a period of development. They share a striped pattern with the bees and will even mimic the bees scent pheromones to deceive any workers that do come across them while inside the hive. They can be an issue for developing hives but otherwise are of no threat to players or most other mobs.

The Giant-Killer (this related parasitoid wasp specializes in preying upon the Giant Bee rather than the Titan Bee): With a similar lifestyle to the Titan-Killer, this wasp is much smaller and mostly relies on avoiding the adult bees and sneaking into the hive in order to similar inject vulnerable developing bees/bee larva with its eggs. The eggs hatch, consume the bee, pupate in the cell, and leave the hive. They can be a bit more tricky to deal with due to their more skittish nature though they are likewise harmless to players and other mobs.

The Goliath Firefly (a very rarely seen species, they once were rumored to be found in the swamps and mangrove forests, but their numbers have been greatly reduced to near mythical status): These fireflies are massive beetles with very distinct sexual dimorphism, the females being nearly twice the size of the smaller males with underdeveloped wings incapable of flight. The females elytra (the hardened forewings of beetles) are visible in adulthood but completely vestigial. The males can be spotted in flight looking for the light signals produced by the ground dwelling female, their smaller size and functional wings giving them better mobility than the usually stationary female.

The Enderian Firefly (A species from the End, one of the few large arthropods found there besides the Endermite, a couple ground beetles, and several large crickets): These fireflies act behaviorally very familiarly to their Overworld cousin, however rather than spending their time in leaf litter, they live along the chorus fruit forests. The females, which are notable for their armored appearance and complete lack of wings (vestigial or functional) are adapt climbers that will work their way up the chorus fruit trees to better signal to the smaller, flying males. The males of this species are notable for having a design like that of an eye of ender along their elytra, though whether this may indicate selective breeding for this feature by the ancient ender societies that used to exist within the End pre-societal collapse, or is merely coincidental, this is not well known. These fireflies, while more populous than their Overworld relative are still very rarely encountered.

The Harvest Termite (there are several more castes not shown in the image, however the solider and worker are the mostly commonly seen of this species and thus the selected representatives for the species): A semi-arid dwelling termite species notable for their large size and curious ‘moon’ like head coloration along the head. They act and behave much like their smaller cousins, though their size can make them a pesky species to deal with, particularly when they bite. While their bites are generally more irritating and painful than deadly, a group of them can cause significant injury.

The Shear-Jawed Ant (Similarly to the Harvest Termite, this ant species has several castes but the main ones showcased here are of the solider and worker castes): One of several massive ant species, this desert species is notable for the mandibles found on the solider caste as well as the spines ridge along the back of its exoskeleton. The jaws in particular appear similar to shears with a more hooked and serrated edge, made for cutting off flesh from carcasses or unfortunate prey, they can also cause severe bites. These ants are mainly nocturnal and can come in conflict with players when unknowingly setting up camp near one of their nests, the workers and soldiers travel long distances for food and resources. It is thought that many of those lost in the desert and never seen again were dealt with by a hungry swarm of these ants. Though recorded deaths caused by these ants have yet to be confirmed.

The Eyed Roach (one of several large roaches, they are one of the most recognizable for the pattern on their pronotum, the shield-like structure that often hides the head from overview): A peridomestic species often found near or in villages along the Savannah plains or semi-arid habitat, they feed on anything and everything though are mostly harmless save for the possibility of mechanical transmission of disease. Elsewise they very rarely will be out during the day and are incredibly skittish and quick despite their wingless nature and size.

The above image showcases the largest known arthropods in both the overworld and nether dimension, those of the massive spiders and centipedes.

The Common Wolf-Eater Spider (also known simply as ‘spiders’ by most players due to their reputation): These massive spiders are known ravenous predators that have been recorded catching and killing anything from wolves, sheep, cattle, players, etc. They can be found almost anywhere above ground across differing climates and habitat types, though thankfully, they are restricted to the Overworld. They are nonvenomous, but their massive fangs can still cause great damage. They are best dealt with in well-lit areas or during the day as they almost become ‘docile’ in well lighted conditions, most likely because their prey can better sense and spot them and thus its easier to save their energy for when they have a greater advantage. They are thankfully mostly solitary though if a group senses blood or an injured entity, they will gather together to tackle the possible prey.

The Cave-Dwelling Wolf-Eater Spider (also known simply as ‘cave spiders’ by players due to their reputation): These large spiders are nearly two times smaller than their larger above ground relative, though this does not make them less dangerous. Infact, these vigorous spiders are known to active live in massive groups/colonies and hunt coordinately. They also are notable for having massive fangs that inject a venom that causes illness, vertigo, drop in blood pressure, etc. Some players have even been shown to go into cardiac arrest or organ failure if struck by a large enough group. While they are rarer to encounter, they can be highly deadly and persistent, particularly considering the fact that with their somewhat smaller size, places and holes that might keep one safe from a ‘common spider’ will not keep you save from this species.

The Birch Spider (also known as the Forested Spider or the ‘knuckle-head spider’ due to the habit of them accidentally dropping on player’s heads from above): Exclusively found in the birch forests in the Overworld, this spider is the much smaller and less deadly relative of the ‘cave’ and ‘common’ spiders. They also, unlike the fore-mentioned two, are web-builders rather than pursuit predators. They often prey upon large and small flying insects that get stuck in their webs along with small rodents and reptiles. Their venom can cause irritation but rarely triggers much else than a sore spot where bitten.

The ‘Cave-Crawler’ (aka Hell’s Centipede, one of the very rare, yet highly adapted, giant Nether arthopods): This massive ambush predators mostly feeds on unfortunate striders, lone pigmen, and young hoglins that come across their hidden burrows carved into netherrack walls. They usually keep themselves hidden away in these burrows until they sense approaching entities and struck, inflicting a venomous bite before retreating into their burrow. The bite will often start to feel itchy and irritated before growing numb as a paralysis agent works through the body, eventually leading to organ failure, coma, and eventually death. These giant centipedes will then follow the scent trail of their injured prey and drag the body back to feed on in their burrows. They have a heavy armor that is nearly impossible to pierce with even the toughest of swords though their softer underbellies are more vulnerable. They can however be scared off with bright lights and strong scents like mint or citrus as the strong smells disorientate them. They are rarely encountered or rarely discussed because of the dangers in study them. The Oakworm (aka the Overworld Mega-Centipede due to its unusual size): This centipede species is larger a scavenger and opportunistic hunter, wandering about and eating what it comes across. They, unlike the Hell’s Centipede, a distant relative, will not attack organism larger than themselves, preferring to stay hidden under moist, cool logs in dense forests during the day and emerging at night to feed. They were originally mistaken for a massive species of worm, thus their odd name in reference.

The Hero’s Stickbug (aka the walking sword): A highly camouflaged, elusive herbivore from the Overworld, this species while massive, often stays out of sight as much as possible. They usually live in dense forest canopies, feeding on fresh growth.

And there we have some of our many Giant Arthopods! Due to the high oxygen levels in the atmospheres of the differing dimensions, the restriction of size caused by capability to carry oxygen throughout the body is little concern. However, this wasn’t always the case as it can be noted via recent research that many of these massive arthropods are technically much younger species than their smaller counterparts.

Infact, I think the rise of these massive arthropods is linked with the post End-exodus event (also called the post-End disaster event) whereas some unknown event caused the near complete destruction of Enderman society, the vanishing of the great unknown ancient society responsible for crafting the Warden and Exodus portals these entities guard, and possibly the rise of The Infections (the main terrible diseases of the pigmen plague, the death-curse illness, and The Corruption).

I think that when one of the ancient civilizations attempted to escape from some horror (be it war, famine, or sickness) after failing to find salvation in first the Nether and then the End, they returned to the Overworld and created the Exodus portals found in the Deep Dark, punching their way through to a currently unknown, theoretical fourth dimension. This dimension’s introduction to the known three caused shifts in magical systems, the atmosphere, etc. and either assisted in or caused the massive extinction event that occurred some millennia ago.

It was as the surviving organisms of this incident managed to adapt and thrive that diversification was able to take hold. There is still much to piece together and figure out, particarly when trying to craft a timeline or estimation of species origin can be so difficult and time consuming.

Either way, I thank you for viewing my admittedly limited showcasing of some of the many impressive Giant Arthopods of the known three dimensions.

#my art #traditional art #speculative biology #minecraft biology #Minecraft mobs #Minecraft speculative biology #minecraft spider #minecraft silverfish #minecraft endermite #minecraft bee

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Musical Milestone Masterlist 🎶

Thank you to everyone who participated in my small weekend challenge! It was a lot of fun writing these small drabbles! Like I said in the announcement post, in the New Year, I'll be doing some more Song Fics with reader interactions, so if you didn't get to request this time, don't fret! ❤️

Fluff ♡ || Smut ◇ || Angst ♤

More Than A Woman by Bee Gees ◇

Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Ray ♡♧

Kill Bill by SZA ◇

What It Is (Block Boy)(feat. Kodak Black) by Doechii ◇

Marry You by SHINee ◇

Time Lapse by NCT 127 ◇

Back 2 U (AM 01:27) by NCT 127 ♧

Good Boy Gone Bad by TXT ◇

Only One For Me by BTOB ◇

Cupid (Twin ver.) by Fifty-Fifty ♡

Anti Romantic by TXT ♧◇

Try Again by Jaehyun and D.ear ◇

Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift ◇

Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter ◇

Movie Star by CIX ◇

As It Was by Harry Styles (covered by Seungkwan of Seventeen) ◇

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic cover by Sleeping At Last ♡

Blooming Day by EXO CBX ♡

I hope you liked all the fics ❤️ Happy Reading! ✨️

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #reidingmusic #3k follower celebration #masterlist #completed series #spencer reid masterlist

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huramuna · 1 year ago

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a maid's folly - chapter 6.

dark aemond x maid ofc minor aemond x floris baratheon work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

previous | next

summary: a new maid from the Vale arrives at the Red Keep during a tumultuous time and becomes ensnared in the One-Eyed prince's web.

word count: 3.7k

girl.... it took a bit to get here but i hope its worth it - please let me know what you think

warnings: smut (details below cut), power imbalance, religious guilt, dark Aemond, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, Aemond being a touch starved weirdo, possessiveness, jealousy, this is going to be ANGSTY

oh to be in love - kate bush • mary on a cross - ghost

chapter specific warnings: violence, blood, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, virginity loss, biting

The next few weeks were good ones for Rosemary– the best ones since her mother passed. She fell into a quick companionship with Helaena, accepting her oddities as fun quirks, rather than bits of madness that everyone else seemed to discount them as.

Helaena was smarter than people gave her credit for. She was witty with a great sense of humor, often poking fun at courtiers and other denizens of the castle. She had a lot of inside knowledge on the gossip and going-ons of the Keep, as people weren't afraid to speak openly while she was in earshot, citing her as daft and not paying attention.

Rosemary and Helaena sat shoulder to shoulder on the settee near the window. It was open, a crisp breeze tousling their hair.

The princess had promoted Rosemary to her handmaiden, thus upgrading her wardrobe significantly. They matched now, as Rosemary wore light blue dresses, her hair down in a braid. Helaena usually leaned towards cooler colors, like flushed blues and light purples.

“I've heard that Floris is pitching a fit over the flowers chosen for the wedding,” Helaena chattered, pricking a needle into the fabric stretched over an embroidery hoop-- she was working on a depiction of a blue carpenter bee, “Mother told me she cried when the florist brought in white tulips instead of yellow.”

Rosemary snorted a small giggle, her hands tangled in Helaena's hair, defting the tresses into intricate braids, “And how has your brother taken all of this?”

Helaena was privy to Aemond and Rosemary's 'situation', whatever it may be– it was ill-defined at the moment. The corners of her eyes crinkled into a grin, “He is running Vhagar ragged with how much he flies her. Mother said that when Floris began to weep, he slipped out of the hall and was gone for four hours.”

“Yes, that sounds about right.” the maid hummed.

The weeks with Helaena had also proven fruitful for Aemond and Rosemary’s interactions– they were still few and far between, with Aemond expressing more restraint than he had before, but he visited Helaena’s chambers more often, citing brotherly love as his reasoning for his frequent social calls.

He entered that day as usual, his arms behind his back. His eye zeroed in on Rosemary, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. She wasn’t wearing her formless maid’s dresses any longer, as Helaena had her tailored for a few higher end pieces for her. They hugged her curves in the right places with a sweeping décolletage, exposing just the hinting swell of her chest, the light blue complimenting her complexion.

He had been visiting more lately, but the past few days had been taken up with frivolous wedding planning, and half a dozen flights on Vhagar.

“Brother, you’re staring.” Helaena murmured.

He became all too aware of his surroundings, his mouth slightly dry and his clothes all too tight. It took him a moment to regain his stoic self, “I am merely trying to see what you’re embroidering, dear sister,” he walked forward, nodding his head to Rosemary, “My lady.” he mustered a greeting.

“Your grace,” she hummed in response, tying off Helaena’s braids with a small leather cord, “Would you like for me to braid yours as well?” she said it ever so innocently, but she was goading him. They were in each other’s proximity more often than not lately, with Rosemary often watching him spar in the courtyard from the spectator’s eaves They had developed a back and forth banter— he tested her limits with his witty remarks, and she teased him endlessly until she was all but sure that he would need to relieve himself later. It was a fun game, their little verbal spars, but Rosemary wondered when it would become reality. A man could only be teased so long.

Aemond cleared his throat, “That won’t be necessary,” he glanced at her for a moment, his pupil blown wide. She knew she had him, hook, line and sinker.

“Rosemary, weren’t you going to go to the market today?” Helaena redirected the conversation, “I know you had a few things to pick up.”

The maid perked up, “Oh, yes— hm, I should get started now so mayhaps I’ll make it home before dark,” she squeezed Helaena’s shoulder affectionately, the princess leaning into her touch, “I will see you this evening, my lady,” she got up, smoothing out her dress, curtsying before Aemond, “My prince.”

“Hm.” he grunted, letting her walk past him.

She made a quick stop to her room, donning a cape jacket, her hands tying a ribboned, wide-brimmed sun hat to her head. Looping a bag around her shoulder, she set out to the corridors.

Rosemary walked with purpose, reciting her list, “Lavender oil, honey cakes, lilac and blue thread, rock salt, goat’s milk…” she had her head down, navigating the halls absentmindedly. She brushed shoulders with someone, caught off guard by an anguished gasp.

Stopping, she looked to see who she bumped, “My apologies,” Rosemary murmured, seeing that it was… Floris Baratheon. She recognized her from passing through Maegor’s Holdfast going to and from Helaena’s chambers, “My lady.”

Floris scoffed, “Yes, well, watch where you are going,” she looked Rosemary up and down, a flicker of something akin to recognition passing through her eye, “Ah, you’re the princess’ handmaiden, are you not?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I see,” she clicked her tongue, seemingly mulling over something in her head, “Where are you heading in such a hurry, then?”

“I have to pick up a few things from the markets, my lady— I wish to get back before it gets dark.”

Floris blinked slowly, her hands coming together, “Ah. The markets,” she repeated, “Enjoy your errands.”

Rosemary curtsied hurriedly, walking away. She had already wasted enough time dawdling.

The trip down to the market square was fairly uneventful— she managed to get lost once or thrice, still unfamiliar with the layout of the city; she had only visited through it once before arriving at the Keep.

She haggled with her fair share of merchants and most definitely overpaid for most things. It was a wonder that she managed to somehow haggle up the price.

The last thing she retrieved was the goat’s milk— it wasn’t to be drinken, but to be added to her and Helaena’s baths. Rosemary had fond memories of her mother drawing her a hot bath and pouring flower oils and goat or sheep’s milk into it, along with the chipped pieces of rock salt. It left her feeling soft and fresh and she wished to experience it once again.

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Helaena warned Rosemary to not be in King’s Landing at night and to always come back before the sun set.

Rosemary gnawed at her bottom lip as she tried to retrace her steps. She could see the Red Keep up on the hill, but when she tried to navigate there, she ended up being cut off by dead ends, empty alleys, and paths looming with unsavory characters.

She felt the bubble of panic rising in her chest, her thumb nail sinking into the soft of her palm. Her lip began to bleed from her incessant biting upon it in her anxiety driven state.

Turning down another alley, she was met with a dead end again. Tears pricked at her eyes, feeling frustrated and helpless— how idiotic could she be to get lost? She could see the Keep but couldn’t reach it.

Moving to retreat from the alley, she saw a hooded figure at the end of it, awaiting her. Her heart instantly jumped into her stomach and she froze. The dying light of the sun glinted off of something in its hand— a weapon.

The tears came in full force now as she dropped her bag, backing up further against the wall. The figure descended upon her, brandishing a knife. It was a man, stocky and older. His breath smelled of decay and rot— he was hissing at her, like some kind of animal.

Rosemary put her arms up to shield against the first swing, she had seen Aemond do something similar in his training sessions with Ser Criston– of course, he was a seasoned swordsman and usually swathed off an attack with a weapon, so this method was nowhere near as effective as he made it look— it ripped through the fabric of her dress, slicing against her arms. She whimpered in pain but shoved forward against him, knocking him off his balance. He kept up his garbled hissing, as if he was trying to say something.

“Take my bag— the money is in there, just l-leave me be!” Rosemary cried, kicking the bag towards him.

The man couldn’t look less interested as he regained his footing, coming in again for the second time. This attempt was fruitful as he knocked Rosemary to the ground— he was on top of her, slicing wildly, his mouth agape. He had no tongue. She tried to keep her arms up to stop him from hitting anything vital, the blade cutting through her skin like ribbons. She cried in pain, kicking and screaming, her blood trickling down onto her face, her dress.

Her life flashed before her eyes— her mother, Jeyne, Helaena, the children— Aemond.

Suddenly, the man was dead weight against her and the dangerous edge of a sword poked through the front of his skull, mere inches from Rosemary’s face.

It all felt like a haze, a blur. Was she already dead? She felt so cold, the rivulets of blood flowing across her skin feeling like shards of ice. Her vision closed and blackened around her.

The weight of the man was kicked off of her and then she was scooped up— she was no longer cold, but warm. She was warm, like in a goat’s milk and lavender oil bath, the steamy water enveloping her like a second skin. She had to be dead, surely.

“Rosemary,” a voice, familiar, murmured, “Stay awake. Fucking hell, I shouldn’t of let you go alone.”

She glanced up, her vision still muddied and red— her own blood had dripped into her eyes, stinging. But she realized who was holding her, the flash of a single violet eye burning through her. Aemond.

“Ae… mond,” she whispered.

“Don’t speak,” he grunted, “Just… stay awake, okay?”

She didn’t know how long it was until the air around her turned from the flowing outdoor air, to a dank and almost tepid air. It was dark now, flashes of torches dancing in her eyes.

Then she was set down— on something soft. It smelled like sandalwood and smoke. A bed. Aemond’s bed.

He sat next to her, bandaging her arms, “You did good putting your arms up,” he said, wrapping the soft, spongy cloth material taut around the worst of her wounds, “Where did you learn that?”

Rosemary blinked, “… been watching you spar… recently,” she responded softly, “I might’ve… picked up a thing or two.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. It made her chest feel aflutter. “Hm,” he mused, “I never saw you there but once.”

“I was hiding… didn’t wish to distract you.”

Aemond snorted then, rolling his eye, “Chin up,” his hand softly lifted up her head as he wiped a damp, lukewarm cloth over her face, cleansing the blood from her skin.

“How did you know?”

He made a small noise of discontentment, “You were bound to find yourself in trouble. I saw you overpay for all of your items today, far above market price,” he looked away for a moment, “I can’t say I expected this to happen. But it… was good I was there, I suppose.” the cloth eased over her eyes, helping her sight come back into focus.

She blinked profusely a few times, tears gathering at her waterline– not just from the irritation, but emotion. “... I don’t know what to say…”

Aemond put the cloth aside, “Usually, this is where one says ‘thank you’,” he chided, citing her taunt at him from a few weeks earlier, “How is the pain?”

Twisting her arms, she sucked in a breath of pain, “... hurts.”

“It will for a while and will likely scar. But, better a scar than your life,” he hummed, his hand flexing and relaxing absentmindedly, “I’ll bring you a salve for them so they won’t mar your skin as terribly.” his hand reached for hers, turning her palm up. He was gentle, his skin warm.

“... thank you,” she murmured, closing his hand between both of hers, wincing at bit at the movement. “I don’t understand… he didn’t want my money or items– he was actively trying to kill me. To just kill me.”

Aemond looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, his mouth wrought into a thin line, “King’s Landing is a dangerous place– the Red Keep even more so. I… will try to figure out what it was– mayhaps a purposeful attack.”

“Purposeful? Why would anyone want to kill me?”

“You are the princess’ handmaiden– you have eyes and ears into a lot of affairs in the Keep and perhaps you overheard something you shouldn’t have,” he let go of her hands for a moment, but not before rasping his thumb over her knuckles. He then began to pace. “Have you heard anything odd lately? Some conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to?”

Rosemary only now just saw how distraught Aemond looked– his hair was down completely, the leather tie used to pull it back to the nape of his neck gone, likely broken off. His hands were stained with blood, her blood, and the blood of her would-be killer. He looked a bit flushed, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, his footfalls heavy and filled with emotion– not like his usual silent, detached movements.

“Aemond,” she murmured. He didn’t stop his pacing, muttering to himself, “Aemond. Aemond!” she raised her voice slightly, causing his head to snap towards her. “Please– we can worry about it all later, just… come here.”

He looked perplexed by her tone and loudness, but walked over anyway.

In turn, she reached over and took an extra dampened cloth, holding out her hand, “Let me help.” she asked.

He sat down next to her on the bed, the mattress dipping under him. He bobbed his knee incessantly as Rosemary took his hands and washed them of the grime and blood. His jaw was clenched, his muscles taut as if he wanted to spring into action or mayhaps run out of the room.

“Relax,” she grumbled, “I should be the one nervous, not you.”

“I am nervous– you… you were almost killed. I was almost too late, Rosemary,” he spoke, his voice breaking from its usual even tone into something soft and more raw, “What the fuck would we have done if you were… slaughtered by some ingrate? Helaena and the children– they would be heartbroken,” he took in a sharp breath, “... I would be… devastated as well.”

Rosemary stowed away the cloth, her hands not once leaving his. Slowly and cautiously, she intertwined their fingers. It was an intimate gesture, something soft and soothing. She could feel her heart catch in her throat, her ears burning. “Well, you weren’t too late, were you?” she whispered, her voice almost silent. She glanced up at him, those big brown eyes of hers piercing a hole right through him, right into his soul.

Untangling one hand from hers, his hand came beneath her chin, tilting it upward. “I might’ve burned this whole fucking city down if I was,” he murmured, leaning forward. They were so close, their lips ghosting over one another.

She felt the heat rise in her stomach, feelings jittering around against her ribcage like some of Helaena’s butterflies. Her eyes flicked to his lips, then back to his eye– she inhaled as she leaned in– and in turn, he did as well.

Their lips met– it was soft but intense all at once, the butterflies in her chest breaking free in a cacophony of emotion. It was chaste at first, their lips melding together like two puzzle pieces– before her lips parted slightly and she tilted forward more, her free hand coming up to his chest, but wavering. “C-can I touch you?” she asked, her words pressed against his mouth.

“Please– please touch me,” he practically pleaded, “I’ve waited so long.”

Her hand slid up his chest slowly, her brow knitting in discomfort as her wounds pressed against the bandages.

He took note of this, placing her hands on his hips and a likely more comfortable position for her.

She hummed contentedly as she leaned farther into him, her lips parting once more to accommodate his tongue slipping into her mouth. She needed more of him, pressing as close as she could. She wanted to crawl inside of his ribcage and live there. It was something of comfort.

“Lay down,” he said, breaking their intimate closeness for just a moment, earning a disappointed whimper from her. “I need to taste you.”

Rosemary swallowed heavily, nodding slowly. “I’ve– I’ve never… done this before,” she breathed, “I’m still a maiden.” she scooted back to lay on the soft pillows, looking down. Her dress was a torn mess.

“All the reason to go slow, little lamb,” he responded in turn, edging up the skirt of her dress, “Tell me to stop if you need to.”

Biting her lip, she nodded. The feather light touch of his hand on her leg made her shiver, a coil of warm settling in her core.

His hands, calloused and rough as they were, felt like smooth silk as they glided up her leg, bunching up her dress at her stomach. His fingers traced the stretch marks on her hips and thighs as if to commit them to memory. Aemond’s fingers hooked under her undergarments and slid them off– a wet strip of arousal prominently painted down the center of them. Grinning, he stowed them away in his pocket, “Hmm,” he hummed, using both hands to part her legs as if it were some great feat, like mounting a dragon or swinging a sword for the first time. “Beautiful.”

Rosemary felt her face go red as she looked down at him, his head between her legs. “Please.” she murmured, almost too quiet to hear.

She didn’t need to beg, not this time at least– he fulfilled her wish, licking a strip from the bottom of her parted folds up to her aching pearl, causing her to whimper. He was slow at first, eeking out every little sound he could out of her before beginning to feast, his tongue ringing circles around her sensitive bud, his hands gripping her thighs like he was a man staved, and she was his last meal before death.

Rosemary clutched the sheets, wanting to snap her legs close, but his strong grip kept them open– thank the Gods for that– the warmed coil inside of her slowly eking into a smolder. ‘A-Aemond, ah–” her first orgasm ripped through her like a bolt of lightning, her toes curling. Her legs wrapped around him as she clenched around nothing, whimpering his name like it was a prayer.

“That’s it,” he purred, “Bleating like a lamb for me– so soft, like I knew you’d be.”

She panted heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her death grip on his head weakened slightly, allowing him to slip from between her legs for just a moment.

“Let's get this dress off, hm? I want to see all of you.”

“If you undress, too– I won’t be the only one naked,” she grumbled.

He happily obliged, stripping his doublet and trousers and kicking them away, all too eager to get her out of her dress. His fingers deftly undid the buttons, slipping it off of her. A hand palmed one of her heavy breasts, rubbing a nipple between his fore and middle finger.

“Eyepatch,” she mewled between tiny moans, “Take it off.”

He was a bit more hesitant here– his thumb hooking under the strap. Pausing for a moment, he looked to Rosemary once more.

She was disheveled, her face flushed red, her hair coming out of her braid and flowing behind her in pale blonde tresses. Her eyes were half-lidded, lips parted ever so slightly. She wanted him, she wanted all of him– it was evident.

Foregoing any more doubt, he discarded the eyepatch, revealing his sapphire implant.

Her half lidded eyes grew into large saucers, her breath hitching in her throat. Rosemary didn’t say anything else, giving a hum of contentment before pulling him back onto the bed for another kiss.

“Beautiful,” she cooed between kisses.

It was enough to make Aemond blush– hiding his bashfulness by slipping his tongue back into her mouth, palming his cock in his fist. He swiped the head against her folds, gathering the slick and slowly sliding it in.

“Gods above,” he grit his teeth, “Fucking tight.” his lips pressed against her neck, he buried himself to the hilt in her, waiting for her approval.

“F-full,” she whimpered, needing a moment to adjust to his size and the overall new sensation, before she nodded for him to proceed.

He moved slowly again, starting at a measured, deliberate pace, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.

Soon enough, she relaxed into his rocking motions, beginning to enjoy it. His pace increased as he left red marks on her neck, sucking and bruising the delicate skin there. He wanted to be gentle– but he was still a dragon, and dragons were wholly possessive.

The room was filled with the sounds of her soft whimpering moans and his grunts– the symphony of skin slapping against skin.

Aemond clenched, feeling the tell-tale sensation that he was close, “F-fuck,” he groaned against her skin, teeth biting into her now, “My lamb– my pretty lamb– you should be my fucking wife. You’re mine, mine, m– fuck–” he stilled his movements as he spilled inside of her, his fingers gripping her hips like soft putty.

She clenched around him, feeling the warmth of his exertions spread through her. Sweat beaded at her forehead and chest as her hummingbird heart slowed down finally.

He didn’t pull out yet– rather, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest, laying on his back now.

“Stay with me tonight– please. I wish to wake up next to you, if only this once.” he murmured, holding her close against his chest in his all encompassing hold.

“Of course, my dragon.”

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