One man's arson is another man's art.

A meme about characters

flammablehat — Wed, 09 Oct 2013 02:17:25 GMT

1. Comment on this post with "This is Halloween!"
2. I will give you a letter.
3. Think of 5 fictional characters and post their names and your comments on these characters in your LJ/DW.

My dear teprometo gave me G.

1. Gwen

Ahhhhh I have too many things to say about Gwen. So I'm gonna skip my fandom thoughts re: Gwen and just focus on my own personal thoughts. I admit I overlooked Gwen when I first started watching Merlin. I never disliked her, not for a moment, but I kind of took it as a given that she'd eventually be introduced to the romance and we probably wouldn't see much of her up until that point and so she actually functioned like the plot device she was kind of earmarked as in my own mind. Which makes me sad, cause I could've been enjoying her sooner if I'd been paying attention.

Gwen, to me, is not a character who's written to be...I'm going to say liked though it's the wrong word, because she's certainly likable. She's written the way you'd expect a freshman in high school to write a character if their assignment was to write someone likable. And Arthur is a great contrast to that, especially around S1, because he wasn't written to be likable and yet I liked him very much. I am deliberately avoiding using concepts like 'flawed' or 'not flawed' to describe them because 1. I don't think S1 Arthur would have self-identified as flawed and 2. Gwen never struck me as a Mary Sue even though the narrative began to treat her like a Mary Sue in some ways (what with her being the only 'good' named female character around for any length of time, the way her relationships with Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine and Lancelot were all touched by varying degrees of romance at one point or another, etc.). So what I mean when I say she wasn't a character who was written to be liked is that I think the writers maybe thought of her more as a bucket for Goodness than as a human being, and so they made her just and they made her moral and they made her loving and kind and a little ~awkward because characterization. And while those are all good things, they don't automatically reveal anything about her motivations or thoughts or habits. It's very static and uninteresting to just be something; characters need to do things. But in a land of myth and a time of white men there wasn't a lot of screen time available to devote to Gwen's characterization, so at first I found her inoffensive but also not really attention-worthy.

And then Gwen's romantic plotline started, and alright, I will admit I love romance. I love it. I am totally an easy sell with romance. Merlin didn't have to do much to get me on board the A/G train simultaneously with the A/M train. And I can't exactly remember the timeline for it now, but around about the time I started actively shipping Arthur and Gwen together I was also talking with long-time Gwen fans like sophinisba more about her character and how great she was, not only with Arthur but also independent of him. And it was like reading an old and well loved story over again and only just noticing a paragraph or a sentence you'd somehow managed to miss in every previous reading. I started paying attention to the choices Angel would make for Gwen, and thinking about Gwen's morality and what it might feel like to do the things she did or say the things she said (like every time she called Arthur's stupid ass out) when the show made it so easy to overlook her perspective because she was just the moral center, she was just the person talking sense to Merlin and Arthur, who were the ones we were really set up to pay attention to. Which there's nothing wrong with! The story was about them, and if we're talking about Merlin in a vacuum and not critiquing media as a whole for only focusing on straight white men, then it's fine to recognize that this particular story mostly wasn't about Gwen. But that didn't mean she only had to be a plot device to me, and that's one of the reasons Gwen will live for a long time as one of my favorite characters. Because Gwen was the first character who helped me realize that I could like and enjoy and interpret characters for reasons beyond what I'd been spoonfed by tptb. The show told me Gwen was the Moral Center, and when I really looked at her I realized Gwen was a moral person in a crowd of people who couldn't get their shit together, and that was interesting. The show told me Gwen was the Romantic Interest, and when I really looked at her I saw that she struggled with her own feelings and that love wasn't just an easy, two-piece-puzzle fantasy she never had to question, but that she still made decisive choices anyway and knew her own mind (that is, when it wasn't being manipulated or taken over for plot purposes, god damn you show!). Gwen was funny and longsuffering, and she was brave and said what she thought and she trusted herself. She stood up to Arthur (who often needed to have his bullshit pointed out to him) more than any other character on the show. Yes, including Merlin. Merlin did a lot of enabling and lying and creative interpreting, but he didn't do a lot of real talk, which is why Merlin was also longsuffering and probably should've spent more time talking to his bff Gwen. Anyway. Gwen is fandom to me. That we not only have the ability to expand off of canon's raw material in fandom, but that it's expected and encouraged? More than slash and more than porn and more than AU, Gwen represents that little seedling of possibility for me and I love her for it. She is unquestionably my favorite character from the show. Because she's great. Seriously, just look at her:

She makes technology happen in ye olden times. Too wonderful.

2. George

Geooooooorrrrggeeee. I laughed and laughed and laughed for the cumulative 5 minutes of screen time he had. George was minor character perfection. I loved that they made him a kind of doppelganger for Merlin with the scarf and the coat and the way they vaguely resemble each other (ears, lips, ridiculous hair). He's so unabashedly enthusiastic and he takes his shit seriously and bless the actor who played him for not judging him for that and turning him into a caricature. I know he was played for laughs but I would've loved to have seen more of him. I would've loved to see him torment Merlin by teaching him proper servanting technique, oh my god. Missed an opportunity there, BBC.

3. Giles

Giles is my sex fantasy, full stop. He is the best personification of the bookish, reserved, sarcastic professor archetype that was my very first model of (for?) male attractiveness. Everything from the glasses to the English accent to the fact that he's a little older and wears fucking suspenders, what the hell Giles. I wasn't in Buffy fandom, but if I had been I probably would've shipped him and Buffy hard. I know that's a thing because the internet told me. I still haven't completely finished the show (I think I made it to like...season 5?) so I don't know what happens to all of the characters, I just know that Giles was definitely my favorite from the core cast.

4. Geordi La Forge

With bonus Worf! My thoughts are getting progressively less and less exhaustive the later it gets and the longer this post gets, but Geordi! If you don't like Geordi you can get the hell out. Geordi is smart and kind and funny and he's played by LeVar Burton. LEVAR BURTON. Geordi is an independent reason for me to watch more TNG, especially in the case of episodes like this one. Which is coincidentally the episode with one of the best lines of dialogue in any show ever, though it's Worf's line and not actually Geordi's. Anyway. ~~"Sir, I protest, I am not a merry man!"~~ I also love Geordi's relationship with Data. They are my Star Trek brotp.

5. Gretchen Wieners

She had some of the very best lines in Mean Girls. And she has produced some of the best memes. I don't really have any thoughts on her character aside from the fact that I love her. Mean Girls is an American classic.

Everyone is born in September

flammablehat — Thu, 26 Sep 2013 17:58:47 GMT

I am home with a cold or something (crossing my fingers it's not the flu, though I feel like I'd probably be prone and groaning pitifully if it was, so...looking good so far!). Obviously that means it's time to finally catch up on some LJ!

First things first - thank you so much for all the birthday wishes and notes. #^_^# You all make a lady feel special. And while we're on the subject of my birthday and how lucky I am to have all of you as friends, please direct your attention over here so I can rec you some amazing things:

A fucking incredible podfic by teprometo of Night Sky Changing Overhead. I'm pretty damn fond of this fic, and when I say Te takes it and makes it better, fleshes it out and gives it solidity in her performance where I stumbled in writing, I'm still not doing it enough justice. Even if you've not read the fic, you really don't have to. I'd recommend this before I'd recommend the story.

Home Is Wherever I'm With You by lady_ragnell is ~1600 words of solid gold tiny-ship of my heart. Bronwyn/George curtain-fic? YES PLEASE. (For those of you who might not remember, Bronwyn was the adorable maid from S1E1 of Merlin who ~~Eve Myles~~ Lady Helen sang to death.) Nell was the one to introduce me to the good ship Bronwyn/George and I requested happily ever after fic for them during pornathon, and Nell wrote this adorable fic for my birthday because she's wonderful and indulges me in my sappy cravings. ^_^

The lovely samyazaz wrote Brighten Up The Darkest Place when I prompted her for Gwen and Merlin and Arthur and PUPPIEEESSS because apparently fluff is a thing I'm mainlining like a champ, now? ANYWAY IT'S THE MOST ADORABLE THING. If you like Gwen and Merlin and Arthur and most of all puppies, you need to go read this right now. It is precious and lovely and fun.

And I got a phone call from kaizoku, which was a wonderful surprise! So great to hear your voice, bb, even if my reception is utter shit in the house. It was a wonderful birthday and I love you all! &hearts;&hearts;&hearts;

But seriously there are so many September birthdays both here and irl that if I missed saying hey to you or sending you a squeeze, I'm terribly sorry! I will get better at it, promise! This year was not great for my organization but next year I should be much more organized and hopefully no longer in flux. XD

Flist cut completed

flammablehat — Mon, 26 Aug 2013 13:57:17 GMT

Hello again! This marks the official flist cut. If I have removed you in error, please just let me know! Otherwise, happy trails! :D You are all fabulous and may your future adventures only bring you health, wealth, and happiness!

Shady's back

flammablehat — Mon, 19 Aug 2013 21:48:44 GMT

Hey kids, how's life?

It's been awhile! The fifth and final year of pthon has just come to a close, and if there's anything that can bring me back to LJ after a long hiatus, it's pthon.

That being said, a lot has changed since we were all here last, so it's time for some journal cleanup! I know there's supposed to be some kind of amnesty for defriending when it comes to general organization of one's flist, but it always feels weird to me. I've gone and unfriended a couple of journals I'm fairly certain are dead now, but for the ones with folks still hanging about I feel better if it's less a unilateral decision to cease-follow.

So this is a heads up that I will be clearing out a lot of names in about a week just for the sake of my own sanity. Folks who are up for friendly removal will fit any one or more of the following criteria:

We have not spoken in a long, long while, even since before le hiatus on my end.

We no longer share a fandom - this pretty much means anything other than Merlin fandom because I don't know how to let go, apparently.

This kind of relates to 2, but you are almost exclusively into Teen Wolf. Noooo offense meant, promise. I just really don't care about Teen Wolf. I can deal if it's just part of the mix or if we have other things in common, but if it's all TW all the time on your journal I'll be honest - I'm probably gonna skip it anyway. Might as well save us both the flist space!

Things that might influence your desire to no longer include me on your flist!

I am still in Merlin fandom lolololol.

I'm not sure what the ratio of personal to fannish related posts I'll be making here in the future, but I'm leaning toward moving this to a more fanwork exclusive kind of space. Who knows, I might not change a thing, but my general intention is to produce more fics and less personal wangst. Let that be either the enticement or dissuasion that it is.

You've been meaning to remove me or had forgotten I existed and now is the perfect opportunity to clear up some space of your own!

If you do meet any or even all of the first three criteria but you still want to be friends, just let me know! These are more like ~guidelines for me anyway, and maybe we've not had the chance to really talk before or something. If this is your moment to peace out, feel free to mention it (or not, if you don't want to). Comments are screened for purposes of not broadcasting the mechanics of this journal, so whatever you wanna do is copacetic. I'd prefer not to get flamed but I suppose if the spirit moves you, you can do that too.

Whatever the case may be, I hope you are well and have been well, and that you will continue to be well whether we carry on or shake hands and part ways here.

[Fic]: Chokepoint | NC-17 | Podfic read by Sophinisba

flammablehat — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 12:00:44 GMT

Title: Chokepoint
Author: flammablehat
Reader: sophinisba
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen
Rating: NC-17
Contains: Breathplay
Summary: It goes through several iterations of mistake before it becomes a choice.
Writer's notes: This combined fic/podfic project is a joint effort between sophinisba and myself (or myself and sophinisba, as Bradley would say, though now I'm not sure if either is even correct, bother) for this year's pod_together as well as the "breathplay" square on our team card for kink_bingo. I struggled with writing this story due to a combination of unrelated things and am independently responsible for all of our missed deadlines, but sophinisba is a superhero and she made everything work in spite of my fail. I can't thank her or the mods enough for their patience and support in finishing this fic. Many thanks also to samyazaz for her encouragement and sage writing advice in the face of my flailing. This was my first experience writing a fic knowing it would be read aloud, and it was totally cool collaborating to construct the story with a mind toward a listening audience as well.
File info: mp3 and m4b versions, 10.5/21.3 MB, 3408 words/21:52 minutes
Links: Read, download, and/or stream at the AO3.

Avengers is the fandom gateway drug

flammablehat — Fri, 22 Jun 2012 14:05:56 GMT

From my RL frand:

[Podfic]: Drink His Kiss Down Dry (Written by Sophinisba) | Merlin/Nimueh | NC-17

flammablehat — Mon, 14 May 2012 20:29:02 GMT

Hello hellooo. This is my first podfic, omg. I don't really know what to do with it! But the story is awesome and you should really go and read it and maybe skip out on the part where you listen to me because I'm pretty sure there is nothing more derp than my voice. Podficcing is scary in a nice way. It's like performance anxiety. IDEK. I am strangely full of wriggly embarrassment. But yes... this is it. My first podfic. Eee.

Title: Drink His Kiss Down Dry
Author: sophinisba
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Nimueh/Merlin
Summary: Nimueh likes Merlin's mouth.
Download: .mp3 link here at Mediafire

Did I do that right? I am the ultimate n00b.

I got back from the wintry north Saturday afternoon/evening and spent most of yesterday doing mother's day stuff for mi madre. Happy belated mothers day to all the lovely moms on my flist! I have a stupid number of things I seem to have missed in the land of new apartments and zero internet. It's a little overwhelming. I'm going to try to catch up with as much as I can, but that probably doesn't mean much considering my track record. :/

<333 Hi flist, I've missed you.

Hitcount meme!

flammablehat — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 23:18:53 GMT

I thought this looked really cool and I've seen a couple of people doing it now so I figured hey, why not find a ~seemingly productive way to procrastinate from the stuff I should be writing? XD

1. Cave In - 1909 hits
2. Best of Both Worlds - 1379 hits
3. Uncommon Side Effects May Include - 1044 hits
4. Corporal Reward - 989 hits
5. The One Where Merlin Has a Shady Work History - 917 hits
6. Rescue - 812 hits
7. Playing Dirty - 615 hits
8. My Coin is Three-Sided, and It's Still Money, Baby - 578 hits
9. Web - 450 hits
10. Murder on the Ice Rink - 321 hits

So I only have 18 fics on the AO3 to even choose from for this exercise, which I find kind of amusing. I do enjoy the gentle slope in the numbers!

1 and 5 are the most perplexing to me, for different reasons. I actually hovered online and took a screen cap the minute Cave In first reached 1000 hits. It was my first fic to do so and it was a significant moment for me! :D The One Where Merlin Has a Shady Work History was just one of those random kinkmeme fills and I think one of the first fics I put up on the AO3 because initially I thought it would be a good idea to have an archive account just to keep everything in one place. Aside from Rescue it is also the only fic on this list that is not explicit, which is another reason why its hit count surprises me a little bit.

I'm rather proud of Corporal Reward, because for being my most recent fic I think it's pretty sweet that it made it as high as number 4 on the list. This is my first year doing this meme, so I wonder what it will end up looking like next year? Hopefully I will have a few more fics to work with by then. XD

Brainstorm avec moi

flammablehat — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 22:53:46 GMT

How do you go about naming your totally sweet blog, friends? General tips are welcome, but if you're looking for specifics - let's say it's a totally sweet blog about sci-fi and fantasy, writing meta, and other awesome things?

And speaking of totally sweet things, check this awesome video ouuuuuut:

A Fascinatingly Disturbing Thought - Watch More Funny Videos

Hey authors! + a hot Merlin/Arthur rec

flammablehat — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 23:22:36 GMT

Hey there author friends on my flist! Come check out this awesome post by sophinisba concerning podfic! Even if podfic largely flies outside of your radar, it's a great post that can offer some insight into a different avenue of fanworks and how to be an awesome friend and supporter of the medium even if you don't listen, don't record, and never intend to do either.

I have just finished recording my first ever podfic, which I will be posting as soon as I finish having fun editing the file, so if you can't think of any other reason to go read - do it for my sake so that I can pester you more easily in the future about podficcing your stuff. Yeah? :D

You can also find this post here at Dreamwidth if that's your preference!

Also, have a delicious Merlin/Arthur fic: That Thing by teprometo

Let me tell y'all about this hotass fic. It's insightful, it's funny, it's beautifully written and characterized. There's crossdressing that doesn't quite go the way you'd expect, there's realistic, intense, hot-as-fuck first time sex. This is everything you want to read tonight. Go-- go now and thank me later.

Brief thoughts on the Games which are Hungry (movie)

flammablehat — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 15:04:36 GMT

I should probably say I didn't finish reading the book before I saw the movie. I mean, I got a couple chapters in, maybe? Now that I have seen the movie I'm getting mixed up about what exactly was the last thing I remember reading. Anyway, irrelevant, except to say that I pretty much had zero pre-existing thoughts about the film adaptation! Which was actually kind of nice! I get all kinds of butthurt when I read a book and the movie differs, which yes, I recognize is irrational but what of it? Anywhoodles, here are my sleep-starved take aways the morning after:

So I definitely saw a lot of people talking about the casting choice for Peeta, and I have to say I definitely thought his face was a little derperific at the beginning. But then he totally grew on me by the end. THIS LATENT SUSCEPTIBILITY TO BLONDE BOYS IS REALLY STICKING IN MY CRAW.
Gale, however, did nothing for me. Probably because one of my buddies made the mistake of telling me he's Miley Cyrus' boyfriend before I even saw him. Sorry bro, I judge. Also he looks a little cro-magnon. Sad panda was sad when he saw his girrrrfriend making out with irrelevant District 12 contribution. Womp womp.
Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuueeeee noooooooo. Omg that little girl was so cute and sweet and lolol she wins all the points for suggesting operation: NOT THE BEEEEES
Jennifer Lawrence (is that her name?) is pretty much a total badass.
Oh hai thar Lenny Kravitz
Omg wtf totally awesome ~~flaming~~ clothes hello self-insertion fanfic trope number 18
Favorite moment of the night was probably the goofy little girl wearing the 'Team Peeniss' t-shirt. I laughed. A lot. But really I thought the movie was awesome, even if shaky cam has become the new lens flare.

Your thoughts?

[Fic]: Corporal Reward | NC-17 | 2/2

flammablehat — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 20:51:17 GMT

(Part 1)

“Well?” Arthur says, leaning back on Merlin’s heavy door until it closes, leaving him canted at a casual angle like he thinks he’s James Dean. Merlin’s blood thumps. “What did you think?”

“About what?” Merlin says.

He has spent so much time watching Arthur by now that it’s become easy to see past his affectations. Like his smug expression, decaying into something fixed and uncertain the longer Merlin stares at him, letting the moment stretch. Or his costly weekend wear, which gives away more than he knows; he’s young enough to forget (or perhaps not even realize) that the slim cut of his jeans and artful dishevelment of his shirt broadcast his effort to change out of his uniform and into something calculated for display.

And there’s the fact that he came to Merlin at all, when a more seasoned man would have known his moment to wait.

Merlin is more seasoned. This is his moment to wait.

“I did what you told me,” Arthur says, visibly retreating behind his straightforward, linear thought. Merlin isn’t playing by the rules, and rules are what Arthur understands. “Did you not...watch? I was showing you—you said to come back when I knew what I wanted.”

“Is that what you were doing?” Merlin asks. “Showing me what you wanted?”

Arthur pauses for a second, as if he’s trying to decide if he wants to commit to his answer. “Yes.”

“Let’s say I didn’t watch,” Merlin says, folding his hands in his lap. Arthur opens his mouth but Merlin gives him a look and he closes it again. “What would I have seen?” He gets to a count of two in his head before Arthur goes scarlet.

“You want me to tell you?”

“Wasn’t that the point, Arthur?” Merlin stands, making his way around his desk. “Or did you really think you could get away with your own...unique and stupidly elaborate take on some obscene hand gestures and hope I would get the picture?”

Arthur goes defensive immediately, sputtering “I wasn’t—” when Merlin crowds into his space and says, “You were. You don’t fuck those boys because you think it’s the best way to get what you want, you fuck them because they’re safe and don’t ask questions if you want to be slapped around a bit. ‘Our Arthur, just likes it a little rough, doesn’t he?’” Merlin mocks, fascinated by the way Arthur starts to change right before his eyes, like Merlin’s found a loose thread that’s threatening to unravel him. “Do they even know what they’re doing to you?”

“They’re not,” Arthur shakes his head, avoiding Merlin’s eyes, breath uneven, “they’re not doing anything to me.”

“On the contrary,” Merlin says, forceful like a shove to Arthur’s chest. “They use you like a whore. They stick their fingers and cocks in you, they come all over your pretty mouth and face and you don’t just tolerate it, Arthur,” Merlin hisses, speaking right into Arthur’s hot red ear, “you’re not just being a good sport, are you?”

“Fuck you,” Arthur bites out. “They’re my friends.”

“I never said they weren’t.”

“It’s not— I want them to,” he insists, ardent, “I tell them to—”

“Then why can’t you tell me?” Merlin says, and at some point he put his hands to either side of Arthur’s head on the door. “Tell me.”

“I—” Arthur falters.

“Do you like it when it hurts?” Merlin prompts, gentle, drowning in warm grass and green apples.

“...Yes,” Arthur whispers. He’s shaking, speaking to his shoes.

“Say it.”

“I like it when it hurts.”

“You like being told what to do.”

“I like being told what to do.”

“You like having dick shoved down your throat,” Merlin says, letting his fingers just touch the silky strands of golden hair at Arthur’s temple. “You like having your ass spread, it makes you squirm inside to imagine some man staring at your hole.”

“I,” Arthur swallows, pupils blown out wide and dark. “Sir...”

“What does he think, seeing you so desperate for it? Does he call you a whore? An easy little cockslut?”

“God,” Arthur trembles, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “Please—”

“Does he make you beg, Arthur? Does he make you crawl?” Merlin asks, voice gone harsh.

“Merlin, please, s-sto—”

“Tell me,” Merlin demands, shaking the door in its casing with his palms shoving at the wood. “Just tell me, tell me what you want.”

“No, no—ohgod,” Arthur whines, body going tight for a long second before he loosens like his strings have been cut, chest heaving. Merlin stares at him; it feels like all the air in the room has burned away to nothing.

“Did you just...?” he starts, and Arthur’s face crumples. “Oh, fuck,” he says, grabbing Arthur by his shoulders when he tries to turn away. “No, don’t you fucking dare,” he cups Arthur’s face in his hands, thumbing at the wetness collecting on his lashes. “God, you beautiful creature, don’t you dare,” he says, fingers tightening on Arthur’s jaw, holding him still for a savage, desperate kiss.

Arthur quivers under him, shaking hands coming up to fist at Merlin’s collar, making short, hurt little noises in the back of his throat while Merlin tongue-fucks his mouth like there is nothing and no one else in the world.

Arthur breaks away, gasping for breath. His throat is thick with tears when he says, “I came in—in my pants,” making Merlin’s core go hot and ferocious. “I feel so s-stupid.”

“Don’t,” Merlin says. He has to close his eyes, give himself a moment of space from Arthur’s cringing, humiliated expression and uncomfortable stance before the sucking undertow of lust takes him down and he wrestles Arthur over his desk. “That is the sexiest thing I’ve seen you do yet.”

Arthur laughs a little, wetly, giving Merlin a sideways look. Almost shy, he leans forward and takes his first kiss from Merlin, soft at the side of his mouth. Merlin breathes, burying his fingers in the smooth hair at Arthur’s nape.

“Come home with me,” he says. Arthur nods.

-----
Merlin takes off his jacket when they get inside, hanging it on the coat rack before sitting on the little entryway bench to take off his shoes. Arthur follows his example and toes off his own sneakers, eager for something to do that doesn’t leave him standing there looking out of place. But then he’s in Merlin’s foyer in his socks and he’s obviously back to feeling nervous; his eyes flicker around absorbing all the details of Merlin’s small home without settling on any one thing for too long.

Merlin considers him, wondering if he’s ever gone home with one of his friends. He imagines Arthur riding Percy’s cock in some squeaky little twin bed. Probably not, Merlin finally decides, letting the thought dissolve. Why stick around at school to have sex if there had been beds to abuse that were equally free of the risk of interruption by siblings and parents? In the flawed reality in which the cameras at the school were just for show, it would make sense to think the gym or empty classrooms allowed for a modicum of privacy that their homes wouldn’t. Especially Arthur’s home, Merlin figures, where he assumes the Colonel has his own terrifyingly sophisticated surveillance system in place.

Merlin’s home is quiet and, but for being completely unfamiliar to Arthur, safe. Merlin slides his shoes out of the way under the bench before standing and drawing Arthur close by the back of the neck for a kiss. Arthur relaxes, curling into the touch like it reassures him. Merlin marvels at the unpracticed press of his lips and soft hesitance of his tongue, groaning a little at the reminder that Arthur is still so young. He’s had no one to seduce him, no one to take advantage of his body’s newness beyond the figurative and literal scatter-shot of some group fucking with his equally inexperienced friends. Arthur isn’t afraid of sex, and he’s not exactly new to it, but for Merlin’s intents and purposes he’s a virgin.

The thought has Merlin pressing Arthur against the wall, licking Arthur’s mouth wider and making the kiss slick and filthy. “Listen to me,” he says, pulling away only when Arthur starts to whimper. “If I do anything, anything tonight that you don’t want, say ‘red.’ Do you understand?”

Arthur’s eyes go wide. “A safeword?”

“Just in case,” Merlin says, letting his thumb ride the bob of Arthur’s adam’s apple. He pauses for a moment, wondering if his plans might be better left a surprise, but then he thinks Arthur will likely be surprised enough even if he shares his intentions in advance. “I’m going to tie you down,” he says gently, closing his fingers around Arthur’s wrists. “I’m going to suck your cock, and then I’m going to fuck you very, very slowly.”

“That sounds...really good,” Arthur whispers, looking seconds from coming in his pants again. Merlin grins.

“Get on the bed and get undressed. I’ll be there in a moment.”

He collects a length of nylon rope from his closet and a plain ring of stretchy silicone from his bathroom. Arthur has followed his instructions to the letter when Merlin kicks his bedroom door shut behind him, naked and spread over the deep red coverlet, already pumping eagerly at his cock. Merlin laughs, climbing on top of him and batting his hands away, peppering kisses along his cheek.

“I didn’t say to get started without me,” he says, nipping at Arthur’s earlobe.

“Sorry,” Arthur says, hands making their way to the new territory of Merlin’s ass. Merlin laughs again, twining their fingers together and using them to press Arthur’s arms over his head. They kiss more; Merlin thrills a little inside every time Arthur’s hands try to wander and Merlin gets to hold him down, keep him still, swallow Arthur’s surprised little moans. Arthur rubs up against him like an especially affectionate cat, going so far as to try to clamp their hips together by wrapping his lean thighs and calves around Merlin’s middle.

“Impatient beast,” Merlin murmurs, biting into the tender skin at the join of Arthur’s jaw and neck. He leans away, waiting until Arthur stops trying to follow him with his mouth and meets his eyes before he says very firmly, “Stay.”

Arthur swallows and settles back, not even dropping his arms to his sides when Merlin climbs up his body and straddles his chest. Merlin lets his approval show in his sharp smile and the press of his fingers when he takes the rope and begins to wind it around Arthur’s wrists. It’s a simple knot design that cuffs Arthur’s arms in a prayer-like pose, loose enough to allow his fingers to curl against his palms but tight enough that he can’t quite bring his elbows down around the width of his ribcage. Arthur’s eyes are dark as Merlin runs his hands over the layered bracelets of nylon, slipping his pinky finger just between the rope and Arthur’s skin. “Good?” Merlin asks, serious, and Arthur nods. Merlin takes the loose tails of the rope and tugs Arthur’s arms back over his head, tying the loop off around one of the middle iron rails of his headboard. He sits back, watching Arthur test the knots for give. He can feel Arthur’s heartbeat kick up under his legs when the rope doesn’t so much as budge.

Merlin carefully rolls off the bed and stands, loosening his tie and undoing his cuffs like he would any other evening, as if he has all the time in the world. Arthur follows Merlin with his eyes while he undresses. His hands curl and twitch a little against their bonds, nervous. The clink of Merlin’s belt and fly as he steps out of his slacks and boxers sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. He feels conscious of his body with Arthur staring, trying to imagine what he must look like through Arthur’s eyes as he comes back to the bed and kneels up on the mattress between his legs.

Merlin is comfortable in his skin — he’s just curious what it feels like from the other side, measuring the breadth of a grown man’s shoulders and the long muscles down his sides and not quite knowing how they’ll be applied to your own body but yearning for it all the same. He puts a hand to the thin skin at Arthur’s hip and rubs, enjoying its texture and the way Arthur’s eyes flutter a bit at the touch.

“I’m alright,” Arthur says, like he’s trying to convince himself more than reassure Merlin. “I’m actually, uh...used to feeling a little more held down than this,” he admits.

“You find it comforting,” Merlin says, leaning over Arthur’s body to nose against his neck, behind his ear. Arthur shudders.

“I s’pose, yeah.”

“You know you’d have better luck shaking off all five of your friends than you do of getting out of this rope without my help.”

“Oh,” Arthur bites his lip, the muscles in his arms standing out faintly when he tugs again, as if he just can’t help himself. “Yeah, I know. It’s only that it feels different.”

Merlin looks at Arthur, their faces so close together their noses almost touch. He brushes his thumb over the silky line of Arthur’s eyebrow, studying the colors in his irises. “The rope is a symbol,” he says quietly. “It has its practical uses, but it’s a symbol. Just as five young men holding you down are their own symbol. There’s a kind of freedom in immobility, and in succumbing to overwhelming force.”

“I’ve told you,” Arthur frowns. “They never forced me.”

“I know, I know there was no violence in the things you’ve done with your friends, Arthur. It was just an illusion of force. They provided you with everything you needed to let go, and then some. But what was lost in that illusion was the moment that you gave in, because it was already a foregone conclusion,” Merlin says, letting his mouth skip over the sharp line of Arthur’s cheek. “Do you understand?”

“I — I don’t know,” Arthur says.

“The rope puts you in my hands. It says you’re at my mercy, and it takes away your power, but there is no illusion of force. I don’t need to strap you to my bed to make you take what I’m going to do to you, because the rope says you trust me and that you are giving in willingly.” Merlin slides down to press a kiss to Arthur’s sternum, digging his thumbs into Arthur’s hips until he releases his held breath and starts to pant.

Arthur jumps when Merlin bites at his ribs, looking almost surprised that it gets him nowhere. And again when Merlin presses his tongue to Arthur’s navel, curious and slow. He makes little hiccuppy laughs when Merlin sits back and nibbles at the arch of his foot, the sound settling into a hum when Merlin puts his teeth to the knob of his ankle, growing into a low, urgent whine when Merlin kisses down his leg in pursuit of the soft, untouched skin of Arthur’s inner thighs and sucks until blood blooms to the surface beneath his lips.

Merlin glances up Arthur’s body, impish as he tilts Arthur’s cock out of his eye-line with two impersonal fingers. He makes sure Arthur is watching before placing a small kiss at the root of his dick, and then carefully licks Arthur’s balls into his mouth. Arthur grunts, dropping his head back against the pillows.

Merlin sucks slow and tidal, holding Arthur’s narrow hips down to the mattress. His hands look long and pale against Arthur’s sunny complexion. As Merlin hollows his cheeks, the muffled noises issuing from the head of the bed suggest Arthur’s biting down on either an unlucky pillow or his own arm. Merlin enjoys himself for several long, thorough minutes before he finally pulls away with a series of indulgent, fond licks. Arthur shudders, both relieved and devastated until Merlin promptly captures his cockhead with his tongue and lets it skid over his lips.

They’ve been kissing and playing for long enough that Merlin knows what his mouth looks like. Arthur’s staring at it desperately, and while Merlin enjoys teasing in general, right now he’d rather hunt for all of the little secrets to making Arthur come apart.

He wraps his lips just over the wide, fat head and suckles, flicking his tongue against Arthur’s slit. Precome floods his mouth and Arthur clenches his eyes shut, jaw dropping open while Merlin laps at him. He takes Arthur deep at an irregular rhythm just to come back up and curl every little salty dribble away with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” Arthur rasps, abs tensing. Merlin quickly settles back, licking off the excess slickness on his lips while he watches Arthur struggle, groin twitching with the effort not to come. Eyeing Arthur’s tense sprawl across his sheets with a satisfied hum, Merlin fishes for the little circle of silicone in the churned up folds of the coverlet.

Arthur’s eyes snap open when he feels Merlin rolling the ring around the root of his prick and balls, laying tiny kisses up and down his shaft before pulling away completely.

“Wha— why are you—?” Arthur blurts, wiggling his hips.

Merlin shushes him, shifting up and patting Arthur’s flank so he rolls over onto his belly, his confusion taking on an alarmed edge. “It’s okay,” Merlin says, rubbing at his lower back, nudging and pushing until he’s pulled his knees in so his ass is up and he’s leaning forward on his elbows. Merlin can’t see him blush, but the way Arthur buries his face between his arms is telling enough. He must think they’re going to fuck now, that Merlin’s just going to set him up like a prop and push his cock inside. Merlin suffers conflicting bolts of arousal and dismay at the idea. To think that Arthur would bend over for such a thing without understanding what it means to do so sends a dangerous lash of heat through Merlin.

He jerks Arthur’s cheeks wide with both palms. Arthur makes a shocked little noise, but it’s nothing compared to the way he shouts, flailing, when Merlin licks a wide stripe right over his hole.

“You can’t do that!” he says, so obviously scandalized Merlin has to set his teeth in the meat of Arthur’s thigh for a second to keep himself from laughing.

“Are you going to stop me?” he asks, amused.

“N-no,” Arthur says, not in response to the question; he lurches sideways when Merlin makes to lean in again. Merlin wrenches him back in place, pulling his knees wide and holding them there so he can’t get any purchase except to squirm against the bed. Merlin presses his tongue to Arthur’s perineum and up, then in, shoving with the tip until he slips just inside Arthur’s hole. With nothing to ground his struggling Arthur can’t do much more than shake as Merlin worms his way deeper, jaw already twinging with the strain. “No, no Merlin,” Arthur begs, voice going thready and high, writhing with mortification. “Oh god, Merlin stop, stop,” he whines, a cascade of jagged sounds burbling out of him as Merlin begins to pump his tongue. Merlin groans and sucks, licking and pushing his way past the helpless resistance of that tight little clench of muscle. “I’m gonna,” Arthur gasps, going taut like a strung wire. “I’m, I’m gonna come, Merlin, I-I’m—” And he stills, for one second, two, while Merlin keeps brutally working at him until he starts to struggle again, uttering a betrayed, strangled cry.

“I forgot to mention,” Merlin gulps wetly, and Arthur wails into his arm, hips rocking.

“Merlin,” he whimpers, “Merlin I can’t, please, let me—”

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Merlin hushes, kissing over the small of his back and his spine. “You’re doing so well, shhh, just breathe.” It takes several minutes for Arthur to calm down, during which Merlin stretches him with two gentle, cautious fingers. “Are you ready?” Merlin murmurs into his shoulder, grabbing a condom and his little bottle of lube from the drawer of his bedside dresser. Arthur nods. There is already a tremble in his arms and thighs, a fine layer of sweat down his back. Merlin is almost surprised by his own arousal when he finally starts to roll on the condom; even that basic clinical touch is enough to have him biting his lip. He squeezes some lube onto his cockhead and sets the bottle back on the dresser, impatient but loving the wait, slowly coating his shaft and thumbing a smear of the excess over Arthur’s hole. “Gorgeous,” Merlin praises, helping Arthur shift his hips to a better angle. He fits his cock against Arthur’s ass and circles it there, pressing until the head finally pops inside. After that it’s easy to sink down into him, even as tightly as Arthur’s body wrings and clutches at the intrusion.

Merlin swallows air and thrusts deep, the sensation so overwhelming he doesn’t give them much time to adjust before a driving rhythm establishes itself and he is helpless to it, gritting his teeth in a snarl at just how fucking good the physical reality of Arthur actually feels. For his part, Arthur is breathing out a long, tremulous ‘oh’ that’s punctuated with every bump of Merlin’s hips against him. Merlin forces himself to slow, stroking down Arthur’s back with both hands in a soothing gesture, sweeping them back up again and around Arthur’s chest until he has both nipples in his fingers and he twists, hard.

Arthur jolts, throat working silently. Merlin groans “Fuck, yes,” at the spasmodic clenching around his dick and just lays into Arthur’s ass, fucking the most beautiful, broken animal noises the likes of which he’s never heard out of Arthur’s mouth. “God, yes, come on,” Merlin bites out, tucking his chin over Arthur’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his chest. “Fuck, Arthur,” he says, breathing into Arthur’s ear. “Arthur you have no idea, no idea the things I want to do to you, you beautiful, innocent thing.” He slows his manic pace again, hooking himself into Arthur’s body instead with heavy, languid rolls of his hips. Arthur is shaking everywhere, even his fisted hands above the ropes. Merlin palms his face, the sweaty mop of his lovely hair; Merlin’s entire body crests with an incredible nameless feeling. “I’m so close,” he whispers, closing his eyes against Arthur’s neck. “I wish I could come inside you,” he confesses desperately. “I want you to feel it, what you do to me, I need you to know — oh! Arthur,” he swears, biting down at the join of Arthur’s neck and shoulder. His balls tighten, like a sudden, full-body switch being flipped — and he’s coming, clutching Arthur like a mooring as the wave hits. The momentum of his orgasm dizzies him, leaving him disoriented, turned inside out, feeling like one giant rhythmic throb of pleasure.

He slumps to the side, taking Arthur with him so they spoon messily. He lays reverent kisses all over Arthur’s neck and shoulders, in his damp, fragrant hair, getting his breath back. When he hitches up on his elbow Arthur looks at him slowly, his eyes glassy and dazed, like he’s not exactly present. Merlin doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more striking; it steals his wind again.

He rubs low at Arthur’s belly, fingers trailing in sweat as he dips them into the hair around Arthur’s groin. He is very, very careful stretching the cock ring off over Arthur’s balls and prick, tossing it away over the side of the bed.

Arthur doesn’t come instantly. There is a long moment like a held breath. Merlin runs his fingers lightly over the head of Arthur’s cock, touching him with incredible gentleness. “It’s okay,” he says softly into the skin behind Arthur’s ear. “Come for me, Arthur. Show me. Let it go.” Merlin is hardly even cradling Arthur’s cock in his hands when it begins to leak, and then spit, twitching in Merlin’s fingers while Arthur quakes against him silently. Merlin strokes him through the end of it, making it tight and fast, making it hurt just a little so that Arthur finally unclenches in Merlin’s arms and starts to cry.

He’s still crying quietly when Merlin unties the knot tethering him to the bed. Merlin leaves the wrist restraints as they are, turning Arthur towards him and looping his stiff arms around his neck. He tugs the comforter up around them both, creating a warm little cocoon for Arthur to curl into, holding him and petting him as he comes down, his face buried against Merlin’s chest.

-----
Merlin wakes to Arthur’s eyes on him. He’s backlit by the pale yellow sunlight filtering through the blinds; it makes the sleep-ruffled haystack of his hair glow.

“You snore,” Arthur says. His arms are curled up between them, still bound, fingers playing absently with the hair on Merlin’s chest.

Merlin blinks, yawning. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Arthur snorts. “I have to pee. Can you...?” He lifts his arms. Merlin reaches for the knots, kissing over Arthur’s knuckles in a warm, sleepy doze while he picks at them. Arthur is very quiet. He rolls his wrists when they’re free, sits up and pulls his arms behind his back to stretch his shoulders. Aside from some red criss-crossing over his skin the nylon hasn’t left a mark on him. In a few moments even the little pink and white depressions will fade, probably while Arthur is still in the bathroom.

Merlin rolls over onto his back, staring at the ceiling and listening to the toilet flush, the water run. He gets out of bed, pulls on some shorts and heads to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Arthur meets him there, hair smoothed down so it’s nearer to presentable, wearing his clothes from the night before. It’s like watching themselves move in rewind, the layers and the distance being pieced back together, leaving Merlin’s stomach to its own rebellious devices.

Arthur wrinkles his nose at the offer of coffee and Merlin’s conscience heaves. No matter that Arthur bends to Merlin’s hands like he was born to do it, he is still so young.

“Is it a problem that you stayed out last night?” Merlin asks, neutral. Arthur lifts a shoulder.

“Dad will assume I’m with one of the guys. He doesn’t really care.”

Merlin sets his mug down sharply, and that’s going to pose a problem for his already conflicted ethics. He has neither the room for nor the right to jealousy. “I’ll drive you home.”

“I’m not ready to leave yet,” Arthur says. Merlin looks at him. Arthur’s gaze is very frank and level and clear, and Merlin is not prepared to have this conversation. His expression betrays him. “You regret doing this,” Arthur realizes, which is not quite right but close enough to the mark for it not to matter much.

“No,” Merlin says. “No, I don’t,” he repeats firmly when Arthur still looks uncertain. He can’t make an excuse about his job or the fact that Arthur is a student. Partially because Arthur is both smart and direct enough to throw the DVDs locked in Merlin’s filing cabinet right in his face, but mostly because Merlin couldn’t care less about the job. He certainly doesn’t want to lose his job, but he figures Arthur is of a perfectly legal age to decide with whom he will or won’t share his body. In a practical world Merlin also understands if word ever got out that he tied Arthur to his bed and fucked him until he cried, he wouldn’t have a lot of free time to get fired before Uther Pendragon murdered him with his bare hands.

No, the real problem is that he looks at Arthur and all he wants to do is touch him — the insides of his elbows, the shallow dip of his spine, his ankles. He wants to pull on his hair and shove him into walls and across table-tops. He doesn’t want anyone else to flog welts into Arthur’s beautiful back for the first time. He doesn’t want anyone else to hold Arthur when he’s shaking from an endorphin crash, or wipe the come and lube from his thighs when he can hardly hold his head up anymore. He can’t understand how Arthur can be a boy with big feet and the long muscles of an adolescent and at the same time something as untouchable and hard to look at directly as the sun.

Arthur peers at him, like he’s searching for a button to push. “I want this,” he says. He puts himself right in front of Merlin, until their chests are almost touching. “You told me to come back when I knew what I want,” he says slowly — not with hesitance this time, but significance. “I want this. I want you.”

“God, Arthur, you’re eighteen,” Merlin says, brushing the tufty blonde hair at his temples down flat.

“Don’t be stupid,” Arthur says, a little impatient. Merlin cocks an eyebrow at him, but Arthur only shrugs.

“I don’t...do this lightly,” Merlin says, voice going tight. “This is not a distraction, or a game, or a way to pass the time. If you want me,” he pauses, wetting his lips, “then no more of the others. No more Gwaine or Percy or Lance.” He touches his fingers to the line of Arthur’s collarbones, knowing he has no right to demand such a thing. Unable to do anything but. It would be better to have had Arthur once than to share him.

Arthur leans in to Merlin’s neck, nosing his chin up in a surprisingly sensual gesture. “Why go back to the buffet,” he murmurs, “when I have all the chateubriand I could ever want right here?”

Merlin smiles, closing his eyes. “You’re such a little shit.”

“You think I’m charming. You find me irresistible,” Arthur says, smug. He closes his teeth on Merlin’s ear.

Merlin fists his hands in Arthur’s hair and his stupidly preppy shirt. Arthur kisses like he means it, and Merlin bites back because he believes him.

[Fic]: Corporal Reward | NC-17 | 1/2

flammablehat — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 20:46:42 GMT

Title: Corporal Reward
Rating: NC-17 to the max
Word Count: ~10,500
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Knights (and the various permutations thereof)
Warning(s): Gangbang, consensual restraint, teeny tiny touches of dub-con and a dash of humiliation to round things out.
Summary: Merlin likes to watch Arthur getting fucked by his classmates on the school surveillance system. Until Arthur turns eighteen, and Merlin wishes he could take their place instead.
Notes: Originally written for this kinkme_merlin prompt. I have since cleaned it up a bit! Thanks are due to everyone over at the kink meme who provided such awesome support. ♥

The video quality is shit because most people assume that surveillance cameras in a school are meant more as a deterrent than a viable method of identifying the wayward. Which is true. That’s not what Merlin is using his surveillance system for, not at the moment.

He plugs his headphones into the handheld player and cranks the volume up on the recording as high as it will go. It’s still muffled, and the tinny, staticky distortion almost drowns the true sound out anyway. But there’s enough, just enough, that Merlin can watch and fill in the blanks.

Arthur’s blonde hair is distinctive. Gwaine’s long hair is also distinctive. What they’re doing together, with Arthur on his knees before Gwaine, is explicit. It really doesn’t take a genius to put it together that Gwaine is riding Arthur’s face. Merlin approves of his enthusiasm, if not his garrulous encouragement. He can’t hear the way Arthur chokes and slurps around the dick in his throat over Gwaine’s nonsensical train of expletives.

It’s enough to watch him, though. Watch his hips hump at the air uselessly while Gwaine holds him steady by a fistful of his coin-bright hair. Someone tied Arthur’s hands behind his back with his own regulation tie. Someone is really good at knots, and it’s not Gwaine, with his eternally dishevelled sense of fashion. Someone else is in the room, waiting to take his turn at Arthur’s fucked out mouth. It’s a Monday. There’s a pattern to these things. Merlin has been watching long enough to know.

Merlin crosses his legs when Gwaine jerks away from Arthur just in time to come all over his face, poking his dick against Arthur’s cheeks and laughing breathlessly. He shoves Arthur away from him by that same handful of hair, but in a friendly way, unbalancing him a bit like one of those weighted clown punching bags. The screen goes dark for a second as someone steps in front of it, and Merlin sits forward a little when the too-close blur resolves itself into Percy’s broad back. This is what he’s been waiting for, truth be told. Percival Jones has a massive, pornographic cock, and he likes to take his time with it.

Merlin glances at the time stamp on the video, and then at the clock on his computer. Outside his office window, it’s dark. But less than five hours ago, Arthur Pendragon was having his throat fucked raw by a train of his peers.

-----
Merlin stops Arthur in the hall the following morning. He offers a kind smile, thinking briefly on the way he spent the previous evening, mentally editing out Arthur’s young hooligan friends’ unschooled humping, fitting himself in their place. The things he would do to Arthur. The boy, always so severe and solemn and upright when on his feet, had no idea what he was missing.

“Morning, Mr. Pendragon,” he says.

“Good morning, sir,” Arthur responds promptly, meeting Merlin’s eyes. Always so polite. There’s a military influence there, Merlin knows.

“Did you enjoy your weekend?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Arthur shifts, pressing his lips together. Merlin focuses on them. Arthur is wearing chapstick; the corners of his mouth are red, sore looking.

“Excellent,” Merlin says, nodding him on his way.

Merlin goes to his office and shucks his jacket, hanging it on its hook by the door. He sits at his desk and strokes his fingers over his media player. It’s Tuesday, so with any luck he’ll have some pretty bukkake to entertain himself with after lunch.

-----
Friday. Friday is Merlin’s favorite day of the week. Friday is after school football practice, when parents don’t expect their children to come home quite so promptly after classes let out. The boys have learned to take advantage of Fridays, and Merlin has learned to keep his schedule clear.

Friday is the only day of the week he’ll allow himself to watch the live feed from his computer. Everyone in the office is eager to leave on time on Fridays, and they throw him mildly pitying looks when they see him still calmly seated at his desk as they’re rushing to collect their things to leave. He smiles and waves at them all easily as they pass, and then he goes to his door and locks it and draws the blinds. He still uses the headphones; there’s something more intimate, more close about having Arthur and his friends funnelled directly into his ears. It’s also a reasonable safeguard in the event someone ever did decide to stay late, which he doesn’t anticipate but is a risk he isn’t willing to take.

He spreads his legs in his seat and maximizes his screen. The usual gang is already there, playfully wrestling and mussing Arthur’s hair while he grins. They’re all taut with excitement, with energy, with young tight sacks so full of jizz they hardly know what to do with themselves.

Arthur stumbles free of his adoring crowd and puts a contemplative hand to his chin. “Percy,” he says, and a chorus of whoops go up from his boys. Merlin breathes sharply through his nose, running his fingers lightly over his trouser placket. A Percy-first day. It’s been awhile. Agonizing as it is to wait for Percy’s turn on normal Fridays, when Arthur’s had at least three cocks to warm him up, Percy-first days are a unique brand of torture. Arthur’s only rarely made it through a round with Percy without coming his head off at least twice, and by that point he’s limp and beautiful and just lets the others fuck him like an especially accommodating rag doll. It always feels like it’s over too soon to Merlin, who prefers Arthur sobbing by the end of his Friday, lovely as he is when he’s spent and loose.

Merlin surfaces from his musings in time to see Gwaine snap a party hat on Arthur’s head, and he blinks. This is new.

“Happy birthday, princess,” Gwaine says, stealing a messy, dog-like kiss from Arthur’s mouth. Merlin stares at the screen and pieces together exactly what that means while the boys strip Arthur of everything but his hat and lay him out on the padded workout bench they’ve confiscated for this very purpose. Merlin is combing through Arthur’s personal file for his date of birth while they all work to fit their fingers inside him at once, and when he finally comes back to the screen Arthur is whining desperately, trying to twitch his ass up towards Percy’s cock while Percy cups himself just out of reach, only letting his cockhead kiss Arthur’s spread cheeks while the boys hold him down.

“You want it?” Percy grunts, tagging Arthur’s twitching hole again and again until Arthur’s chest begins to heave.

“Please,” Arthur chokes, and he’s already a sweating, beautiful mess.

February eighteenth, 1994, Merlin thinks.

Percival huffs the whole way down as he sinks into Arthur’s body, grimacing at how insanely fucking tight it must feel, and Merlin finds he is suddenly incredibly short of breath. He fumbles at his zip, rushing to push down his slacks and boxers while the noises Arthur is making start to blend together into one long, rhythmic scream.

Merlin squeezes the root of his prick for a solid moment, watching Percival pop his big fat dick into Arthur’s desperate little hole, but it’s no use. Arthur is eighteen now, and Merlin’s eyes roll back as he comes to the sound of Arthur keeping Percy’s tempo with his cries.

-----
Merlin has a note sent down to Arthur’s final class of the day that he’s to report to the Principal’s office.

Arthur’s known for being a bright student and a remarkable athlete, so he’s not the sort to make himself a fixture on Merlin’s side of the building. Not the way his friend Gwaine does, that’s for certain. He’s wearing evidence of that unfamiliarity with his surroundings when he knocks on Merlin’s door and waits to be invited inside. Arthur is not a tentative boy, nor a fearful boy. He takes a seat in front of Merlin’s desk with the calm deference of a young man who knows he’s done nothing wrong, and therefore must be talking to the principal for some other, benign reason.

He’s half right, anyway.

Merlin squares the edges of the short stack of unmarked DVDs sitting on his blotter. “I have something to tell you, Arthur.” He stops, leans forward on his elbows in a semi-conspiratorial sprawl that doesn’t seem to have much effect on Arthur beyond prompting the mild lift of a pale eyebrow. “I’m going to need you to listen to me, and I want you to stay calm.”

“Sir?” Arthur looks at him like he’s a little crazy, but there’s concern there, layered in his tone. Even when Merlin’s trying to be disarming, the boy can’t stop himself from responding to authority. Merlin’s spine tingles; he has to wet his mouth a little before he glances at the DVDs. Arthur follows his eyes.

“Surveillance video,” he explains, watching Arthur’s face. “Of the school. These are from the past eight weeks,” Merlin says, noting the way Arthur grows progressively more still, his attention fixed on the DVDs though his eyes are steady on Merlin’s. “You feature quite prominently,” Merlin adds quietly. Arthur jerks back in his seat.

“I have football,” he says. “And track. I’m at practice most days after school. That’s all.”

Merlin says, “That’s not all,” and watches the terror bloom in Arthur’s eyes.

“Why do you have those?” Arthur says, voice cracking. He makes to reach for the DVDs, but Merlin places his hand over the pile and Arthur won’t dare to touch him, not in this precarious moment. “The cameras don’t record — everyone knows that!”

It’s a last, desperate veil of denial. Merlin stares through it into Arthur’s ashen face for a long second, and then he incinerates it with the drag of his gaze over Arthur’s trembling, red mouth.

Arthur chokes, stumbling to his feet and knocking his chair over in the process.

“Wait,” Merlin says, surprised at the severity of this reaction. “Arthur!”

The door to his office snaps shut, Arthur already long gone behind it.

-----
It takes two days for Arthur to come back. Merlin doesn’t send for him, feeling as though he’s a breath away from falling off the wrong side of a tightrope. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, exactly. Accusations, blackmail, anger?

Not embarrassment or shame. Not fear, directed squarely at himself.

He understood belatedly that Arthur couldn’t know how Merlin felt with nothing more to go on than a closed door meeting furnished with some extremely incriminating footage of his extracurricular activities. For all Arthur knew, Merlin could have already called his parents, or the police. For all Arthur knew, Merlin was disgusted by what he’d seen, disturbed and, at best, concerned for Arthur’s health and welfare. This was how Adults operated, because, to a boy like Arthur, Adults were the seat of control and order and it was simply their job to make decisions that were right, even if those decisions diametrically opposed what Arthur really wanted.

It certainly explained why Arthur cared that Merlin knew, because there was never hesitation in him when the boys had him on his back or his knees or his belly. Arthur trusted his friends, possibly even loved them, but Merlin. Merlin was not only an Adult, but the height of authority in the very place Arthur liked to crawl the lowest.

Which is why Merlin’s heart pauses for a moment when the knock on his door turns out to be Arthur. A seed of pride takes root in his gut as he cautiously watches the stiff way Arthur stands with his back almost pressed to the door, his lips thin and his face very white but for the slight, sharp burn over his cheeks. Arthur is mortified, and yet, there he stands.

“Sir,” he says, straightening his posture, clasping his hands behind his back. Military, Merlin thinks again. “I’m sorry I ran away on Monday. You asked me to stay calm.”

“It’s alright, Arthur,” Merlin says, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. Arthur looks at it, wavering, as if he had expected things to go a different way and Merlin isn’t performing to script. He shakes his head slightly, and Merlin smiles small and kind to let him know that it’s okay to refuse.

“I need to talk to you about...” Arthur pauses. He looks like he’s trying to control an impulse to vomit.

“The tapes?” Merlin says gently. Arthur nods.

“I’ll buy them from you,” he blurts. Merlin feels his brow crease.

“What?”

“How much do you want for them? For all of them?”

“I’m not— I don’t intend to sell them,” Merlin says, reassuring.

“Just...name your price!” Arthur hisses, losing his perfect posture to desperate fidgeting. “There are other people in those videos. You’d destroy our whole defensive line if anyone—” he doubles up a bit, breathless with panic, “if anyone knew, if they saw...”

Alarmed, Merlin stands up from his desk and approaches Arthur carefully. “Listen to me now,” he says, keeping his voice low but very firm. He stands close, not touching Arthur, but using his advantage in height to loom, and the effect is beautiful — instantaneous. Arthur stills, calming, not backing away from the intimacy of their pose but rather looking up to meet Merlin’s eyes so Merlin nearly forgets himself and kisses the stupid, noble boy right there in his office. “Those tapes I showed you,” he says, “were copies. The originals have been destroyed. I promise you, no one has ever seen them, and no one ever will. I promise you.” He feels the tightrope again, walking it with a pounding heart while he watches Arthur process the implications of copies and ‘no one ever will.’ When it clicks, Arthur’s fine skin goes livid with blood.

“No one but you?” he asks, and there’s the shred of defiance Merlin has been waiting for. He walks away, retreats behind his desk before he does something stupid.

“Can’t un-spill the milk,” he says, wry.

“Why did you show me if you never meant to do anything about it?” Arthur asks.

“I wanted you to know,” Merlin says, settling with a partial truth for the time being. As a matter of demonstration, he takes the DVDs from his desk drawer, makes sure Arthur can see him replace them in a short file cabinet and lock it. “Do you like what your friends do to you?” he asks suddenly, casual. Arthur fixes him with a flat stare. Merlin grins, amused to be thought of as an idiot. It’s much better than being feared.

There’s a long pause. They both know that Arthur didn’t get what he came for, and yet they’ve reached a fragile truce. Arthur turns to leave, but hesitates with his back to Merlin. “You’re not going to stop watching, are you?”

“No,” Merlin says. There’s no point in lying. “See you on Friday,” he adds, pushing a dangerous line. Arthur doesn’t respond.

-----
Elyan has beautiful forearms. They’re not perfectly visible on the video, but Merlin has seen him walk the hallways with his sleeves rolled up, and has watched him play his cello at the annual State and National orchestral competitions.

Merlin appreciates Elyan’s forearms, because that’s about all of Elyan he can see, seated as he is in a high-backed teacher’s chair. They’ve made use of one of the empty classrooms today. Arthur is working himself over Elyan’s lap, Elyan supporting him by his hips and thighs. Leon, who’s been waiting patiently for his turn, finally knees up on a short stool behind Arthur and begins to nuzzle at his neck.

Arthur twitches and tries to mask it by bouncing even more frantically in Elyan’s lap. Elyan has to hold him steady with his strong arms while Leon pets at Arthur’s chest and whispers in his ear. Arthur has been acting strange from the moment they all shuffled sneakily into the classroom, his reactions stiff and self-conscious where they had only ever been uninhibited before. His friends are obviously worried, working him over slow and easy with a lot of the stroking and licking and touching they’re usually too horny to have much patience for.

Merlin watches, half fascinated and half uneasy. They’ve been going at it long enough now for him to have fished his cock out of his boxers. He pulls at his foreskin, distracted when Lance kneels in the frame and leans over Arthur’s lap to— oh. Arthur’s whole body writhes, and Merlin curses the camera’s perspective because Elyan’s chair cuts Arthur off at the chest, which means he can only imagine what Lance’s mouth looks like wrapped around Arthur’s pretty cock.

Leon, in the meantime, has taken the opportunity to resume his maneuvering behind Arthur, and Merlin realizes what he’s doing only when Arthur swallows back a sharp cry and lifts his arms to grip at Leon’s shoulder and nape. Merlin’s dick throbs and dribbles; he bites his lip and fists himself tight and fast, picturing the slick red ring of Arthur’s hole clutched obscenely around two cockheads.

He’s panting and so lost in his own pleasure that he almost misses it, the moment Leon clumsily pushes deep and Lance stumbles back off Arthur’s lap. Arthur’s whole body jerks like he’s being fed an electrical current, and he’s desperately trying to bite back his noises, but it’s obvious he’s coming anyway from the way the other boys groan and rut at him helplessly.

“Oh god,” Merlin breathes, pumping his hand and rolling his hips and thumbing over his cockhead as his vision begins to dim at the edges. He balances there on the brink for one second, two, until Arthur fixes his gaze unerringly on the camera he’s been avoiding the whole night. Merlin shoots so hard he can hear his come hit the far panel of the underside of his desk.

-----
The next few encounters over video are awkward. It takes at least two more recordings’ worth of debauchery for Arthur to stop flinching every time there’s an unexpected noise, and his uneasiness is almost enough to make Merlin turn off the cameras. Almost. But by the fifth recording after their minor impasse, Arthur settles back into the easy self-confidence he’d possessed before he was aware he and his friends were being silently observed. In a universal demonstration of their relief to see their leader back in top form, the boys fall on him like wild dogs over a fresh kill. They are vigorous, enthusiastic, relentless, and Arthur gives them everything.

There is only one minor, easy-to-overlook change: he’s begun to coordinate every scene so that he is always facing the camera.

Merlin can barely tear his eyes from the videos now, feeling a sparking connection to the boy on the screen. Arthur hasn’t told his friends. This, whatever he’s doing, is known only to the two of them. Merlin could almost convince himself that Arthur is a normal, egotistical young boy who’s come around to the idea that people should like to watch him, whether he’s on the field scoring touchdowns or having his brains fucked out. But there’s something about the way he looks at the camera, in the tremulous moments right before he comes, that reads as inquisitive to Merlin. With every new video he plays, and with Arthur’s increasingly frank stares through the lens, Merlin can almost imagine Arthur standing over his shoulder and watching with him, asking in his ear, “What are you looking at?”

Arthur has been keeping himself busy confirming all of Merlin’s suspicions, and yet the question is only becoming an increasingly difficult one to answer.

-----
“You know,” Merlin sighs, tapping his pen on his desk. “There are easier ways to come and speak to me than smuggling your father’s very nice bottle of Rémy into school.”

Arthur shrugs, grinning quietly, and Merlin has to check his impulse to smile back. With teeth. “I left the Louis the Thirteenth in its case. The one I brought is father’s party bottle, for guests and other indiscriminate company. He won’t actually miss it. But I understand if you need to confiscate it, sir. I was irresponsible to bring alcohol onto campus.”

Merlin looks at Arthur, unimpressed but not all that upset. It’s still a ridiculously nice bottle of cognac. His eyes narrow the slightest bit. “What do you want, Arthur?”

Arthur licks his lips, saying nothing. Merlin raises his eyebrows. It’s only when he makes to fill out Arthur’s detention slip that Arthur scrubs his hands over his legs and opens his mouth. “You asked me if I like what they do to me, last time.”

“And?”

“I do. But,” Arthur says slowly, eyeing Merlin as if he’s looking for some kind of confirmation before he continues, “you already knew that. So I’ve been thinking. About why you asked.”

“You have a theory?” Merlin prods him, secretly delighted.

“Not...really.” Arthur lifts his shoulders. “But I keep remembering the way you said it. I think you asked for a reason. Not my health or safety, because as an administrator you would have already called someone on my behalf if you thought I didn’t want to be...doing what I’ve been doing,” he finishes awkwardly.

“Getting fucked,” Merlin enunciates very clearly, and watches the flush bloom up Arthur’s neck and face. Adrenaline kicks his heart into a drumbeat, because this is it, this is the answer to the unspoken question. “You like it, but you don’t understand it, or you’d call it what it is.”

“I understand!” Arthur says, huffy and indignant and so obviously curious Merlin’s cock fattens in his slacks.

“Arthur,” he says, fond, “you’re a boy who gorges regularly on a buffet when you’ve been raised to understand the value of a perfectly prepared chateaubriand.”

“We’re talking about sex, not gourmet cooking,” Arthur shoots back.

“There is an art to all exquisite things,” Merlin says, elbows to desk once again in his conspiratorial pose. “Chateaubriand doesn’t happen to be my personal specialty.”

“But getting fucked is?” Arthur smirks.

“Fucking,” Merlin corrects, taking Arthur’s slow, careful measure with indulgent eyes. Arthur’s blush burns hotter in his cheeks. Merlin stands, gesturing Arthur to the door. “I’ll give you a warning this time, Mr. Pendragon. Please don’t do it again; I’d really rather not have to call your father.”

“But—” Arthur starts, pausing at the door.

Merlin catches his wrist, presses his thumb in between the tendons until Arthur’s breathing goes shallow. Merlin’s voice is firm and allows for no argument when he says, “Come back when you know what you want.”

-----
When Merlin opens his office door the following week to a man who introduces himself as Colonel Uther Pendragon, Merlin is surprised by how quickly he makes peace with his own death. Arthur’s father is a large man, dressed so crisply and possessed of such natural authoritative presence that Merlin would be intimidated even if he were holding a basketful of squirming kittens. But Uther just smiles at him, tolerant, and pushes past Merlin’s shoulder into his office in a way that seems completely natural and not at all rude. Arthur trails right behind him, and Merlin has only the briefest moment to catch the boy’s eye with a look that he hopes translates accurately as ‘What the hell are you doing?’ before Arthur ducks his head and Merlin’s left to close the door behind them.

He collects himself admirably, taking a seat at his desk and trying not to think that it might afford him at least a couple of seconds head start if Uther jumps for him.

“Mister Emrys,” Uther begins smoothly, “my son tells me you’re having some problems with your surveillance system.”

Merlin is legitimately speechless for almost ten whole seconds before he turns to Arthur and asks, as evenly as he can manage, “What gave you that idea?”

“I’m sorry to be the one to point it out, sir, but the equipment you’re using has been outdated since almost before I was born. And yesterday, when I overheard you mentioning to Mrs. Le Fay that the school has been having problems with vandalism, I thought you might do better identifying the perpetrators if the cameras were updated.”

“Vandalism,” Merlin says.

“Yes, uh.” Arthur coughs significantly. “The graffiti.”

“Graffiti,” Merlin repeats dumbly. He can’t speak for Mrs. Le Fay, as she’s been abroad for the past month on her honeymoon, but he certainly doesn’t remember accepting an urgent phone call from Prague about graffiti.

“Honestly, mister Emrys, you act as if this is news to you,” Uther says, and there’s a doubtful undercurrent to his voice that Merlin does not want to become any more familiar with.

“It just...hadn’t occurred to me that the cameras were that old. Or that they’d even come in use for this...issue.” Merlin smiles.

“Yes, well.” Uther smooths the crease in his trousers, his gaze steely and opaque and perfectly content to wait until Merlin crumbles under its intensity. A hundred little curiosities about Arthur instantly snap into context.

“I’m afraid new surveillance equipment just isn’t within the school’s budget right now,” Merlin starts, but Uther lifts a hand.

“Not to worry, it’s already been taken care of.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Merlin says, looking between Arthur’s half-guilty expression and Uther’s composed one.

“Mister Emrys, I’m sure you understand that I pay a lot of money to keep Arthur in this school, as do the parents of Arthur’s friends and peers. Now, it’s not the vandalism I’m so concerned with, as it’s no doubt the work of one of your more willful students. However, what I am concerned with is just what allowing this reckless disobedience to go unchecked suggests,” Uther says, very reasonably, and Merlin is nodding his chagrined agreement before he catches himself and stops.

“I appreciate your concern, mister Pendragon—”

“Colonel,” Uther corrects. The word has the snap of a whip to it; Merlin falls to quickly.

“Colonel, yes, right, I appreciate your concern. But we can’t allow the parents to arbitrarily pay for the school’s needs; there’s a bit of a process to our methods of securing funding,” Merlin trails off, somewhat helplessly.

“Call it an anonymous gift.” Uther smiles. Merlin isn’t comforted. “I’m sure it won’t be too much of a hardship to overlook, mister Emrys. Especially when you consider what the alternative might cost you, if you take my meaning.”

Of course Merlin takes his meaning. He resists the temptation to glance at Arthur, the wily little pest he finds himself curiously more reluctant to lose than the host of things he risks if he just accepts Uther’s completely unnecessary help. “Certainly, sir,” he grits out.

Capitulation secured, Uther nods and stands, prompting both Arthur and Merlin to stand with him. “In that case, I’ll have installation scheduled immediately. Thank you for your time, mister Emrys.” He heads for the door, Arthur following behind him.

“Arthur,” Merlin says suddenly. “Can I have a word?”

Uther nods his permission, saying, “Be quick,” and steps out. Arthur turns around half-reluctantly.

“Care to explain what the hell that was about?” Merlin hisses.

“My homework assignment,” Arthur says, grinning faintly. “You told me to come back when I knew what I wanted.” Merlin’s about ready to reach across his desk and throttle the idiot boy. Only the tiniest part of his mind files away the fact that Arthur wants Merlin to watch him. The thought will keep until he can examine it more closely later.

“And this phantom vandal I have to pretend to look for and apprehend, now?”

“Well,” Arthur hedges, drawing his fingers across the sleek wood of Merlin’s desk in an aimless sort of way. “If you happened to check the south wall, behind the cafeteria...”

“You spray painted the south wall?” Merlin’s voice goes uncomfortably shrill.

“No!” Arthur says, looking appalled. “I asked Gwaine to. I needed verisimilitude, and he’s handy with a can of paint.”

Merlin buries his face in his hands. “Arthur,” he groans. He starts when he feels warm breath at his ear, his senses suddenly overwhelmed with the bright scents of green apples and warm grass.

“Don’t worry.” Arthur’s smirking eyes are very blue and very close. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises.

-----
“Harder,” Arthur gasps, grasping at the thick, bunching muscles of Percy’s thighs lined up behind his own. “God, Perce, fuck me harder,” he begs, spurring Percy into a frenzy of thrusts so fast and brutal it makes his abdominal muscles look like they’re vibrating.

Merlin knows, because he can see it. Oh dear god, he can see everything. And not only that — he can hear it, all of it, every frantic slap of skin, the obscene sucking of Arthur’s clenching hole. Merlin’s biting his lip so sharply he can almost taste blood, hands clenched furiously on the arms of his chair. His dick is hard and angry against his belly, twitching with every heartbeat, but he’s not ready yet; he’s waiting, they’re so close — he knows—

Arthur leans up and back, staring down the brand new, sharp little camera lens hidden in the corner of the wall and ceiling. “Yes,” he growls, locking his hands behind Percy’s neck so his whole body is bared in one long, tempting bow. “Yes,” he says, “yes—like—that! There! God, fuck,” he whines, and Merlin gets to watch Percy nail three thick ribbons of come out of Arthur’s prick before it starts to just leak down the shaft, until his thighs are messy with it and he’s still making weak little cries into Percy’s neck when Percy pumps out his silent but seemingly endless orgasm.

Merlin’s hands are shaking. He watches Arthur pant on the screen, tugging at his softening prick and laughing at the way Percy roars out his satisfaction, loud again now that the sex is done with. Merlin’s so close. They —himself and Arthur— are so close. Merlin runs two fingers around the slippery head of his cock and struggles to breathe, letting his eyes fall closed. It won’t take much, he knows, replaying Arthur’s pleas to be fucked harder, harder, harder in his mind. Almost there, dancing just out of reach—

Merlin muffles the tip of his prick in his palm, rolling his wrist and bringing his free hand down to jack sharply at his shaft. He blows hard through his nose, bucking into both hands and using his come to slick the rest of his pleasure free.

-----
It’s just Gwaine on tonight’s video, biting and sucking where he’s told, leaving dark, livid bruises all over Arthur’s skin like litter. Merlin watches, sees the way Arthur encourages Gwaine to tighten his fingers in his hair, to fuck him rough and raw and then spank the come out of his ass after Gwaine’s finished, long before Arthur has.

-----
Elyan is the following evening, with his serene, implacable strength, holding Arthur down, not letting him move, not letting him back far enough off to even breathe very easily, let alone speak.

-----
And then it’s Leon, who cradles Arthur’s jaw gently but makes a point to come all over his face, in his hair. He brings Arthur off with four long fingers pumping ruthlessly in Arthur’s hole, forcing him to come without one touch to the desperate arch of his cock.

-----
Lance uses his knots, ties Arthur down fast on his solo night. Something ugly smolders in Merlin’s chest when he watches Lance kiss Arthur for long, leisurely minutes at a time, dragging his mouth all over Arthur’s body. He’s the only one who doesn’t use Arthur as a willing come rag, instead suckling at his dick for over a half hour until Arthur is openly begging. Lance takes him deep, then, swallowing in long, dragging pulls until Arthur grunts, straining against his bonds. Lance jacks at himself until he spills on the bench between Arthur’s thighs, and they kiss for another twenty minutes before they finally untangle enough to clean up their mess.

-----
Merlin doesn’t bother turning on the video the sixth night. It’s a Friday, and he’s seen every one of Arthur’s particular friends wander their separate ways, presumably towards home or some other entertainment. They’ve been dismissed for the evening, but not by Merlin.

He sits back in his chair and waits for the knock on the door.

(Part 2)

[Fic]: Rescue | Arthur/Merlin | PG-13

flammablehat — Sat, 10 Mar 2012 15:34:04 GMT

Title: Rescue
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,500
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin
Warning(s): Brief mention of gore in the form of surgery; angst.
Summary: If he'd had a say in the matter, Merlin would not have wanted Arthur to find out by way of Kilgharrah. But that's where an inconvenient sinkhole will get you.
Notes: This is a follow-up piece to Cave In. Written for lolafeist on the occasion of her being excellent. *hugs* Beta work done by the incomparable new_kate and ella_bane. Any and all remaining mistakes are most certainly my own.

The entire face of the granite wall quaked and Arthur didn’t notice.

He puffed raggedly over his stiff fingers; they were so numb he couldn’t feel Merlin’s heart beat in his chest. He couldn’t see a damn thing in the gloom, and between the two it felt like the world had begun to contract sharply around him.

And then snow crumbled down upon their heads in great, heavy piles, loosened under the weight of a giant reptilian snout that blew searing breath into their pit. This, Arthur noticed.

“What have you done?” the dragon said, before Arthur could do more than instinctively hug Merlin’s body against him in a less openly vulnerable position.

“But,” Arthur said, blinking up at the scaly, fierce, intelligent face, “there was only one dragon left in Camelot...”

“I can smell you all over him,” the dragon said, and this time Arthur registered the menace in the creature’s voice.

Which became a secondary concern in the face of a new and unconscionable realization.

“I slayed you,” Arthur blurted. “Merlin said—”

The dragon growled. A scorching wave of rank air knocked Arthur’s head back into the rock. The earthen walls transformed as their skin of ice liquefied in an instant. “Merlin,” it said with rumbling ferocity, “lied.”

The dragon coiled forward, serpentine in the small space.

Arthur dumped Merlin off of his lap as gently as he could manage. “Get back,” he said, hefting his sword. Gratifyingly, and to Arthur’s great surprise, it reared its head back at his challenge.

“Such arrogance,” the dragon said, flicking a claw that sent Arthur’s best and only weapon spinning from his numb hands. “It is no wonder he has kept himself from you, after all of this time.”

“What are you...saying,” Arthur began, then shook his head to clear it of the mist wending around his thoughts. He threw both hands up in a warding pose. “I won’t let you harm him.” He had enough awareness to know how absurd the gesture was in the face of such a beast, but to do anything less was impossible. If a knight lacked a castle or a moat or even a skin of steel between him and his enemy, he always had himself, the final barrier against an onslaught. And Merlin was Arthur’s to guard, even unto their last minutes.

“Pendragon, if the situation was not so dire I would find this display terrifically amusing. However, you are trying my patience. Now stand aside.”

“No.” Arthur shook his head, which was a mistake, because he was immediately overcome by an awful pendulous lightheadedness that had him staggering and almost stepping on the rigid sprawl of Merlin’s body.

The dragon snarled, crushing Arthur against the wall with one massive talon. Arthur’s mouth fell open, pain twisting the air from his lungs before he could utter a sound. He writhed, feeling like a beetle half stamped into the dirt. He could only grit his teeth and watch as the dragon bent its scaly head to Merlin’s body and— breathed on him?

Heat spilled into their small close in a damp heavy fog. Arthur felt his clothes flutter and settle, steamed to cool limpness against his skin. Just below his feet Merlin stirred, coughing. Arthur renewed his struggles, beating against the single claw holding him fully clear of the ground, grunting with the effort. The pressure against his chest suddenly increased tenfold and he sagged on a high, thin wheeze.

“He needs you alive,” the dragon said. “Whether he needs you unharmed is another matter.”

“Kilgharrah,” an almost unrecognizable voice chided weakly, prompting Arthur and the dragon both to look down between them. “Please don’t break my king.”

“What?” Arthur said.

“Don’t move, you will aggravate your injuries,” the dragon said, and the gentleness in his tone had Arthur blinking and shaking his head again.

“What?”

“Steady, young warlock,” the dragon said, blowing a different sort of faintly iridescent breath over Merlin’s chest and into his face. Merlin’s eyelids flickered and closed, but not before Arthur saw his brow tense at the address, his head tilting away from Arthur as he slipped into sleep.

“What did you do to him?” Arthur asked. He felt surprisingly calm.

“I helped him,” the dragon said, abruptly removing his claw. Arthur slid to the ground, legs useless beneath him. He dragged himself to Merlin’s side like a clumsy insect, sweeping his palm over Merlin’s chest and releasing a breath.

“Merlin has magic,” Arthur said. “Is that...what you meant by—”

“Merlin is magic, Pendragon.”

“No.” Arthur held his head. “It’s impossible. He would have told me.”

“Oh?” The dragon turned to face him. Arthur thought he could see the sculpture of one chitinous brow arching in a disturbingly human expression. “My mistake.”

“I’m the best friend he has in the world, he would have told me. And,” Arthur insisted, “and— he can’t keep a secret to save his miserable life.” This, said like a thrown trump card.

“I see.”

“He probably didn’t even know he had magic. Calling you to come...breathe on him was just an extremely latent survival instinct.”

“Then how do you explain why I listened?” The dragon said with infuriating softness.

“Well!” Arthur threw up his hands, looking the dragon up and down and weathering a sudden flash of intense annoyance. “You tell me! You’re the one who came like a bidden hound!”

“You are closer to the truth than you realize, young Pendragon,” the dragon said. “But there is no more time to waste. Merlin is not yet healed. His hurts are many, and he will need aid I cannot provide.”

Arthur snorted bitterly. The dragon could hardly even fit its forelegs inside the hole he had expected to die in, like a trapped beast. With Merlin. Merlin, who had shown himself prepared to take his secrets to the grave if Arthur hadn’t been quite so determined to follow him down. He’d been a fool.

“Take him, then,” Arthur said, going to retrieve his sword. The dragon stared at him.

“How, exactly, do you imagine I will get Merlin back inside your keep if I approach the city without its king?”

“I haven’t the faintest,” Arthur said. “You could always try the Druids.” He shook out his cloak and swung it around his shoulders, wincing when his host of injuries made themselves known all at once, having been thawed into a throbbing, aching chorus by the dragon’s furnace-like presence. Checking the sit of his sword, he approached the wall and tested a couple of gnarled roots for their stability. Unfrozen as they now were, he had better purchase for the climb to freedom. He made to start scaling the wall before the touch of one giant talon gave him pause.

“He needs the physician. You have sustained him this long. Do not be the reason he fails. Do not make your pride the price for his life.”

Arthur turned his face away, teeth clenched. He shook off the dragon’s claw. The roots in his fists creaked under the burden of his full weight.

When he reached the surface, he dropped his hands to his knees, uncomfortably breathless. Behind him, the dragon was silent and utterly still.

“Well?” Arthur snapped, not looking around. “Are you coming?”

----------------------

When he woke, Merlin felt no pain — only the not-altogether-pleasant sense that his head had been stuffed with something thick and soft through which the world filtered muzzily. As his eyes were working well enough, and he was cogent enough to correctly identify his surroundings as Gaius’ chambers, he could only conclude his haziness was the lingering effect of some potion upon his system.

And because his last waking memory was of Kilgharrah’s giant yellow eyes staring concern down upon him while he held Arthur pinned to a wall, disorientation was the last thing Merlin wanted to wake up to.

“Gaius?” he croaked, shuffling up onto his elbows. Dizziness swam over his head and he closed his eyes.

“He’s out at the moment,” said the voice Merlin had least expected to hear.

He tried to focus on the far corner of the room, the corner cast in partial shadow near the door. Arthur wasn’t hiding, of course, because Merlin could see every inch of him from his chest down to the floor. Only his face was truly obscured, his voice so deliberately mild there was nothing to be found in it except his words.

“What,” Merlin began, then carefully reconsidered what he was going to say. “How did we—?”

“We flew,” Arthur said simply. “I carried you here. Gaius cut you open and sewed you back together. Like a pheasant.”

“Oh.” Merlin looked down at his own stomach, wrapped tight with fresh bandages that climbed almost halfway up his ribs. “I don’t feel anything.”

Arthur took a step forward into the light, and then another, approaching Merlin’s side with an unusual attitude of restraint. Merlin looked into his face and felt a sensation like icy mountain water flushing through his veins. There was no recognition. Not even anger or disbelief. It drove a feeling up into the center of his chest like a stake; a sense of being unknown, alien, in his own home. “Gaius told me no other patient would have had much hope of surviving such a procedure.”

“We were...we were gone for a long time,” Merlin said, hoarse. “He had nothing to lose by trying.”

“No other patient. Not even one he had witnessed fall from such a height himself. Not even if it had been midsummer, and he had every tool of his trade at his immediate disposal. He hardly waited for me to set you down before he took a knife to you.”

“Are you mad at him?” Merlin said.

“No.”

Merlin held his breath at that, hesitant to turn the word over for its possible implications in either direction. Arthur’s expression hadn’t shifted; his voice hadn’t changed.

“Where is Kilgharrah?” Merlin said. It felt lawless to speak his name. But Arthur already knew, and if Merlin was uncertain of his own fate he would at least know Kilgharrah’s.

“See for yourself.” Arthur gestured at the courtyard facing window. Merlin lurched out of bed, his stomach protesting. He stumbled against the window frame, spying a familiar dark hide stretched like a lazy cat across the cobblestones. Arthur’s knights clustered around the dragon’s long body, and while Merlin watched, Kilgharrah flamed at the man standing closest to his mouth. It looked like hardly more than a breath of fire, but at close range in full armor Merlin could only imagine it would feel like being momentarily roasted. Faint sounds of laughter drifted up to them. Merlin grinned in spite of himself until he turned back to Arthur’s unmoving face.

“Arthur,” Merlin began, but felt his throat lock up before he could continue. Finally, Arthur’s mouth twitched, but only in the fleeting shape of a sneer.

“Nothing to say?” he asked, and Merlin felt the words like a lash. “You tamed him, right? Or, no — this is the kind, foreign cousin of the beast who slaughtered my people and almost destroyed this city.” Arthur snapped his fingers. “He’s really just an enchanted deer! This is the work of a cunning adept!”

“Stop,” Merlin pleaded, feeling acid rise in his throat. “You have no idea the things I’ve done—”

“You’re right, Merlin, you’re right,” Arthur said, his expression utterly transformed. “I know only what you told me. You should be proud — you’ve crafted an alternate reality with nothing more than your words! I’d call that a kind of artistic irony for a man of your skills, don’t you think?”

“For you!” Merlin said. “I did it all for you!”

“What difference,” Arthur shouted, “does that make? No, shut up,” he gestured sharply when Merlin made to speak. “I cannot hear another word from you. I cannot—” Arthur said, cutting himself off abruptly and turning away.

Merlin’s chest shook, hot tears spilling down his cheeks and panic leaping up around his heart. He watched Arthur place his head in his hands, walk unsteadily towards the door, and it felt as though a part of Merlin was dying, withering with every step Arthur took.

“Please,” he said, catching his breath when Arthur hesitated on the threshold. Merlin held out his hands and stared at the loose curl of his fingers over his palms. “Before. Before this. Did you...trust...in me only because you believed that I was not a sorcerer?”

Arthur said nothing. And then he stood straight, and didn’t turn, and lifted the latch on the door.

Merlin recoiled at the stab of such a clear dismissal, stumbling and half falling. There was a dizzy moment where he felt as though the air had been sucked from his body, condensing the hot, hard knot under his lungs into something tangible. His hands began to glow.

Arthur spun at the sound of Merlin’s knees hitting stone, his unthinking first instinct for concern sending a wrenching heave of emotion through Merlin’s center. And then Arthur looked up, and his face went white.

It was a sphere, a cool glowing ball hovering just above their heads. Merlin breathed harshly, swallowing his own wet noises. “Take it with you,” he said. Pain and wretched anger warred over Arthur’s face, his eyes sparkling as he lifted his hand toward the little ball before visibly restraining himself. “God, you stupid, stupid ass,” Merlin snarled, his body trying to curl around the sucking empty hole opening up in his gut. “If I had ever wanted to hurt you I would have smothered you in your sleep with a perfectly benign pillow. Just take it with you; it’ll help, I promise—”

“Merlin,” Arthur spoke over him, his voice as wrecked as his face.

“Take it with you,” Merlin insisted, closing his eyes. He found himself reduced to a very simple need to have this one request granted. He couldn’t lose Arthur, he would never lose Arthur — not completely. Some part of him, perhaps his dragon-cursed destiny, would always carry a light for his king. But Arthur could still shut him out, could send him away — could even have him killed. Arthur could make himself the guard to his own isolated prison.

He didn’t realize he had continued to repeat himself until he felt his shoulders being crushed under Arthur’s hands.

“Merlin,” Arthur grit, tugging him to his feet. Merlin struggled against the hold, biting down on a miserable sob. “Shut up,” Arthur begged, his fingers squeezing tight for a long moment before he cupped Merlin’s jaw in both warm palms and kissed him.

The little globe spun, pulsing bright, before bursting over them in a brilliant silvery corona.

Good day, my friends!

flammablehat — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 17:53:35 GMT

You guys know what will never get old for me? This:

I suppose it's not terribly safe for work but hey hey, what are you doing checking LJ during work hours anyway? Also you can always just explain that our John is a gay man now.

LOOK AT THOSE LIPS. PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH, COLIN. JUST...JUST THE TIP. FLICK YOUR TONGUE OVER IT A LITTLE. YEAH. YEAH, LIKE THAT. JUST LIKE THAT.

Drive by rec

flammablehat — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 23:04:01 GMT

Y'all, go check out this fic by sophinisba right nyow.

Nimueh/Merlin, D/s, NC-17. It's insanely hot and a wonderfully delicious little serving of some fabulous D/s. This is a rare-pair I would probably overlook under most circumstances (which is to say, if I'd just seen it floating around and it wasn't written by an author I know and already love), but if you have any inclination toward Merlin as a scrumptious little sub or Nimueh as a smokin' hot Dom, or just for tasty porns in general, give it a read.

Conundrum

flammablehat — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 01:00:07 GMT

I need dinner y'all. My french-fry binge from 4pm is failing me.

You know how grocery store sushi always looks delicious, but then you buy it, and it tastes a little like fishy sponge? WHY DOES IT NEVER DELIVER ON THE PROMISE OF TASTY FISH PIECES IN RICE?

Long overdue rec post!

flammablehat — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 08:23:00 GMT

Run, Neon Tiger by Anonymous

♦ The gift I received for merlin_holidays! It took me far too long to get around to replying to this story (ha, what's new, guys?) but if you haven't read it yet and are looking for something intense, involving, gritty, unique? All of the above? Go read this story, read it now, and give the author love. It's dystopian, it's unflinching, and it's a fantastic read. Merlin/Arthur, NC-17, AU.

The Gentleman Barber by i_claudia

♦ Listen here folks. I don't care if you don't typically care for facial hair, Merlin/Arthur, salty (er...that is, jaunty!) gentlemen, AUs for Merlin fic in general, or what have you. This story is epic. This story is brain-meltingly INCANDESCENT. First of all, it's a part of one of the most incredible Merlin AU verses that exists on the whole wide internet, so for that reason alone you should go read it. Additionally, and independently, even - you should read it because no one but i_claudia can write scorching hot Merlin/Arthur porn and leave you feeling like you've just put down a novel Peter Jackson would probably be drooling to turn into a film. My terrifically inadequate synopsis is as follows: Merlin and Arthur have a rare break together away from the rest of society, and Merlin has let his whiskers get out of hand. They explore sensation play first, followed shortly by some incredible shaving with the most delicious, insightful hints of knifeplay you have ever read in your life. TO GREAT EFFECT, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF. Needless to say, NC-17 on this one. Seriously, there are not enough words in the world for me to recommend this story highly enough. Just go read it.

Convince Me by i_claudia

♦ While you're already over at Claudia's read this too. Seriously, at this point I shouldn't even have to tell you why. Fantastic canon-era trio fic that also follows along the lines of facial hair appreciation. Merlin/Arthur/Gwaine, NC-17! Sexy and hot and delicious and just an awesome read.

Podfic of Best of Both Worlds by sophinisba

♦ Okay this one is a little weird for me because I don't quite know the etiquette for reccing podfics that have been created based on one's own work? Is there etiquette for that? WHATEVA, NO ONE CARE. Basically I don't listen to a lot of podfic because, unfortunately, I don't have a terribly convenient means to do so, living at home as I do and also having only a phone and not an mp3 player. HOWEVER. sophinisba is awesome, this we know. And I've never had a podfic of any of my stories done before, so I was excited before I even heard it. And then I listened to it, and omg. Y'all, this is the sort of podfic that makes me want to invest in an iPod so I can ~~fill it up with sophinisba podfic~~ listen to podfic all the time. I was completely ignorant to the sheer fun of listening to fic before this. There's just something about hearing the things you're more readily accustomed to reading that is a unique experience all its own, and then when you get a podficcer like Sophie, who reads with conviction and confidence and brain-singeing sexiness? It's like spontaneous sexytimes delivered right to your eardrums and is clearly the BEST IDEA EVER.

Alright y'all it's crazy late here so I'm gonna scoot to bed. Enjoy your reading/listening and give these fantastic people some well-deserved love!

Goddammit LJ why do you always have to fuck with my coding?

Merlinchu! I choose you!

flammablehat — Sun, 11 Dec 2011 06:44:11 GMT

So this is all I have for 4x10, which I watched tonight right before 4x11:

Obviously, the car has been pulled up to the cells in Camelot. That's Merlin in the front seat, there.

Such a cute episode! Mistress 'M' (how the hell do we spell her name?) was a cool chick. Not sure I'm a fan of 'HEY I'M A PART OF THE BOYS' CLUB TOO THEREFORE I AM TOTALLY RELATABLE AND AWESOME! ARTHUR, PLEASE LET ME CONTINUE TO DEFAULT TO YOUR MOST DERIVATIVE MASCULINE PARADIGM AS A MEANS OF PUTTING YOU AT EASE' route but I think the actress played it in a chill way, so meh meh whatevs. Also it was hilarious seeing Merlin as the totes unimpressed sassy gay friend this episode. And the shallow part of my brain was just GUUUURRRL YOU SHOULD'VE RETHOUGHT THOSE SHOULDER PADS CAUSE YOUR HIPS AREN'T CARRYING IT OFF. /derp

Gwen's gypsy outfit was wtf hilarious. Fabulous color on her, though. Moar purples for Gwen! And Katie's acting was surprisingly kickass in her Morgana/Gwen scenes this ep, so I call that a plus! Even if she was being a heinous baddie to sweet doe-Gwen. Awww, Gwen as a deer. *wibbles a bit*

Also Agravaine is still Pinky.

The funny thing about watching two episodes in a row is seeing fun little character patterns that might've been around for a bit but which I have not noticed until now. Like Merlin's passive aggressive, half-mad monologues and asides. LOL show, L O L. I will always take more of Merlin being a ridiculous little goober.

And this, because it made me snort laughing. itachitachi, I'm looking at you.

[Fic]: Best of Both Worlds | NC-17 | Arthur/Merlin

flammablehat — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 00:11:28 GMT

Title: Best of Both Worlds
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1,070
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin
Warning(s): Nada, and no spoilers for S4, either, while we're all here. Just smut.
Summary: Written for this kinkme_merlin prompt: Reincarnation fic where they have already found each other, gotten together, and remembered their past life. One day, Arthur is fucking Merlin, who's spurring him on with dirty talk, and in the heat of it, Merlin accidentally calls out "Sire!". Both of them are turned on and Arthur starts REALLY fucking Merlin while Merlin adds royal terms to his dirty talk.
Notes: Unbetaed. Written, without her knowledge, for lady_ragnell. All the meme fills! Just wanted to say thanks again for everything, sweetie. ^_~ ♥

ETA!!!: The lovely sophinisba created a podfic of this! Her reading is absolutely amazing! Go check it out and give her MOUNTAINS OF LOVE for being so damn awesome!

"I love lube," Arthur said. A thick wet stream of it hit the crack of Merlin's arse, plastic bottle squeaking under Arthur's hand. "Do you remember what it was like when we didn't have lube, Merlin? Just — oil and salve all over the place," he said, gripping at the rounds of Merlin's arsecheeks before screwing two fingers into his hole.

"Yeah," Merlin grunted, shifting his hips up helpfully. "And it always made such an awful mess, and the tallow smelled something terrible."

"I love lube," Arthur said again, panting over the slick popping sounds of his fingers fucking eagerly into Merlin's arse. "Come here, you sassy tart." He tugged Merlin 'round by the handles of his sharp white hips and happily sank his prick to the root with hardly a stutter. Merlin hissed a breath and made a few throaty appreciative noises, jacking at his cock.

"Yeah, come on," he said, rubbing himself back into the cradle of Arthur's groin with an impatient glance over his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Arthur grinned, shoving deep once. Merlin's mouth dropped open, hand stilling between his legs.

"Fuck yeah," Merlin said, voice pitched half an octave higher than his usual moderate tones.

"Yeah, baby?" Arthur pumped in a few more elastic thrusts, bouncing up against Merlin's pert little arse. He paused for a slow withdraw, fingering at the slick length of his cock and the lube-foamy ring of Merlin's hole, biting his lip while he played his cockhead just inside the tight circle of muscle, spreading Merlin wide with his fingers so he could feel the pads of his fingertips when he made a series of shallow digs into Merlin's body.

"For Christ's sake, Arthur, quit fucking about and fuck me, will you?" Merlin hissed, climbing his way up the headboard with his hands so Arthur's chest almost brushed up against his back.

"So bossy." Arthur danced his wet fingertips up Merlin's chest, tweaking his nipples and beginning to rut with a will. Merlin braced himself against the wall, panting out the first athletic stretch of their shag with tight shoulders and loose hips that absorbed the impact of Arthur's animalistic humping. He even laughed a bit when Arthur growled and gave him a hint of teeth at the base of his neck, hands sliding down to Merlin's belly to steady him against the lengthening roll of his thrusts.

"Yeah," Merlin said, the breath punching out of him. He desperately wished he had a hand free to rub over and around his slit; just the thought of it had him snapping his hips back and up in counterpoint to Arthur's, grunting with the effort. "Yeah," he groaned, "yeah, fuck yeah Arthur, come on, you incredible fucking prat."

"You like it?" Arthur grit, fingers tightening around Merlin's waist. "You want more of my cock in your tight little arse, Merlin?"

"God, yes," Merlin said, making sharp abrupt whines with each heavy grind of Arthur's cock inside of him, feeling like the fat-blunt-fullness in his hole was pressing the very air from his lungs. "God, yes, Arthur — yes, yes, oh!" he choked, tensing while Arthur hammered at his arse with such a perfect cadence and angle he felt like his vision was being shoved toward whiting out, “oh, fuck, yeah, fuck me sire!"

The speed with which Arthur stuttered to a stop was pretty remarkable, given their momentum. “What did you just say?”

Merlin screwed his eyes shut, untold oceans of mortification washing over him. “It doesn’t matter, please just keep going,” he said in a small voice.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, shocking an audible swallow of air out of Merlin’s mouth when he gripped Merlin tight at the back of his neck. “Answer your King.”

“Oh, f-fuck,” Merlin said, breathless, arsehole spasming down tight around the impossibly rigid heat of Arthur’s cock. “Fuck me, sire.” He followed the pressure of Arthur’s hand and buried his flaming face in the pillows.

“Say it again,” Arthur demanded.

“Sire — your highness, please, fuck me.”

“Again,” Arthur said, voice rough with it as he began to pick up the pace with his hips.

“Ride me, sire,” Merlin moaned, “Oh yes, just like that, Ah-Arth—”

Arthur brought a hand down on Merlin’s arse so hard Merlin yelped. “You’ll address me correctly, Merlin.” The headboard began to knock a sharp patter into the wall under the force of Arthur’s thrusts.

Merlin was muffled into the pillows for a long moment before Arthur hitched up behind him and hooked a hand around one pale shoulder to more easily slam him back onto his cock. “Oh my fucking god,” Merlin gasped, the muscles in his legs screaming and the sweat streaming into his eyes and Arthur growling obscenities behind him and he still couldn’t get a hand around his prick unless he wanted to be literally fucked into the pillows — could only watch it bob angrily between his legs and feel it tickle with the steady dribble of precome seeping from the tip. “Yes, oh fuck, yes, sire, please, please, p-please—”

“Who do you plead to?” Arthur snapped, fingers pressing bruises into Merlin’s flushed skin.

“My king,” Merlin sobbed, fisting his hands around the slats of the headboard.

“Who?”

“My king!”

And Arthur snarled, throwing himself on top of Merlin and screwing in, in, in, barely pulling away to pump in favor of grinding his cock as deep inside Merlin as it would go. Merlin wailed, his own cock pressed suddenly tight and brutal between his belly and the bed, rubbing the sheets slick beneath him with sticky wetness until he began to come, and come, spurting and keening and bucking in Arthur’s arms with the whiplash of sensation that singed him from his hairline to his toes.

He missed Arthur’s own rough and desperate orgasm in the haze of his aftershocks, but they caught their breath together with Arthur’s chin tucked over Merlin’s shoulder and the sheets churned into a bumpy, unrecognizable mess beneath them.

“That settles it,” Arthur said faintly. “I’m buying a throne.”

And Merlin blinked under what felt like a freight train of memories slapping through his mind before he could collect his voice enough to squeak, “Yeah, okay.”

4x06

flammablehat — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 20:21:20 GMT

Okay there aren't really any snacks.

♣ No need to get cocky, Merlin! Is it silly that I enjoy the fact that Arthur said cock and Merlin in the same sentence?

♣ So...Did Merlin get maced or something? That didn't even look like the left side of his chest - how is this a mortal wound if he's not bleeding copiously and it's unlikely that any serious damage was done to his heart? Rib puncturing a lung, perhaps? Is there a doctah in the house?

♣ Mmmmm, Colin bum

♣ The Rock Fall of Epic Love and Self-Sacrifice! Also ahahaha Morgana playing the body counting game with Agravaine. So fabulous.

♣ Aww, Gaius! All he cares about is Merlin, and Arthur just looks so guilty for having come back alone. I love how no one questions him for even a second about sending out ~~the army~~ the knights to scour the forest. It's good to be the king!

♣ Best Merlin/Morgana dialogue moment for me was when she said 'It's like you've never seen Gaius dress a wound before,' or something like that. There was just something so normal about it, like under all the anger and hate ~~and lust~~ she still has time to be like 'fucking derp, Merlin.' Loved it.

♣ Oh yikes, Merlin's bog makeup. O_o But whee, omg nuzzle-hug! ALL OF THE BUTTERFLIES ARE BELONG TO MY BELLY.

♣ Aaaahahahahahahahaahahahaha assassin!Merlin is SO TOTALLY Colin's mad-hatter impression of Benedict Cumberbatch, I'm sure of it! Just imagine for a moment that he had to shout the word 'Pink!' at some point. You there with me? Yeah.

♣ Gwen gets all my love for this episode. Such a pitcher-wielding bamf. And she has the lulziest expressions. I've missed you, Gwen! Please stay with us!

♣ GEORGE, HOW DID I FORGET GEORGE. I ADORE GEORGE. HE MAKES JOKES ABOUT BRASS. HE IS THE UBER MANSERVANT. OFFICIALLY MY NEW FAVORITE SECONDARY CHARACTER. GEEEOOOOORRRRRGE.

♣ Arthur's face wins all the awards. Oh my god, his srs bzns face with Agravaine all the way to his *PFFFTTSPORFLE* face with Merlin at the end. I just want to *chinhands* while he makes faces all day. And it would not be a wasted life.

♣ Kind of meh about the saucery show down. Loved Morgana's reaction to 'Emrys,' but was a little underwhelmed by the back and forth tossing-each-other-around thing. Like...set each other on fire or something, guys. You have magic. While I can understand Merlin maybe has some reluctance to killing Morgana or something (maybe), you'd think they'd be a little more effective at incapacitating each other. Also, is Morgana older than Arthur? Is the crown for actualfax rightfully hers? Would Arthur's claim not technically supersede hers anyway coming as it does from a legitimate heir of the king and queen? Or is Morgana basically just having nothing more than an epic tantrum as her ultimate motivation for her actions?

Such a great episode. Two thumbs up ~~Merlin's bum~~!

Workshop ahoy!

flammablehat — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 00:25:32 GMT

Friends, countrymen, lend me your ears!

Behold, a workshop approaches: The Great Porn Dissection of 2011! Come one, come all! Tell your friends - your family! **Bring the kids along for a week of fun and games at pornspiration from 10/30 through 11/5! Activities will include a read-through of an original, never-before-released erotic work, with questions, guided discussion, and more medical metaphors than you can shake a stick at! Now if that doesn't sound enticing, I don't know what does!

Epic Bill Nye banner made by lolafeist

**We do not recommend the inclusion of actual children in the Porn Dissection Workshop.

Pimp this workshop on your journal!

Hope to see you all there! :D

Whoops

flammablehat — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 02:26:48 GMT

AHAHA not time for an early release. Really hope nobody saw that. PAY NO ATTENTION TO WHAT'S HAPPENING OVER HERE, JUST TINKERING.

ETA: Anybody on the trusty flist who might be willing to help me make a couple simple pimp banners for the workshop I'm hosting on pornspiration this weekend? Seriously, I will show you my opening night banners - you'd be doing the whole community a favor. THANKS EVER SO, OH WISE AND WONDERFUL FLIST!

What I took away from Merlin 4x04

flammablehat — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 21:07:15 GMT

Elyan is a secret ninja/tracker. His skills are legion.
Rape Uncle Does Not Approve These Shenanigans
Gwen was having a spa day
With Morgana?
The knights are more prone to swallowing than King Arthur (really Arthur, too salty for you? Yeah-huh)
The 'Merlin and Arthur have graceless yet acrobatic sex' faction in fanon should all be taking a smug bow this week
Arthur was a big fat doubter/quitter for this week's quest. Not on, your highness, not on.
The knights don't tell very good jokes/play very good pranks. Hey, hey Merlin, you know what would be funny? If you kept us up all night with your growling stomach. That would be hilarious. Ahahaha j/k bro, j/k. Derrrrrp.
Dragon eggs look like massive sex toys
Dragons apparently have some kind of biological imperative to go extinct
Why waste money on booby traps, secret death castle? One mildly effective face misting should do you just fine. OH SHIT DON'T TOUCH THE SHINY ~~BUTT PLUG~~ EGG DON'T YOU KNOW IT'S THE ONLY THING HOLDING THIS FLIMSY TOWER ~~MADE OF STONE~~ TOGETHER?
Who the hell is James Callis?
Everyone has already said it, but it bears repeating: Arthur is more accustomed to Merlin clambering over him while he's (naked) in bed than he is to Merlin knocking goblets onto the floor. Obviously. Because it's not like his favorite insult for Merlin next to 'idiot' is 'clumsy' or anything.
Arthur's naked thighs.
Arthur's face going through the waterfall. Arthur's face holding Merlin back from ~danger. Arthur's face being Arthur's face. Arthur's face when he totally goes back to talking about the terrain like his manservant didn't just goose him in front of all of his advisers. Arthur's face when he's drawing random crossbolt fire. Arthur's face when he's moaning over Merlin's cooking. ARTHUR'S FACE.

Yeppp, not in order, obviously.

Completely unrelated but totally important - please go here and prompt this woman for some fic. Epic week of facial hair porn just needs to happen.

A 4x03 Reaction. Of Sorts.

flammablehat — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 04:09:21 GMT

I'd title it but it really doesn't deserve it. Gdocs is calling it 'What the Fuck is This' and I'm fairly inclined to agree.

This is how I deal with grief. Heaven help my family. Written in 20 minutes and unbeta'd like woah. You've been warned.

“Merlin.”

“Yes?”

“What did you mean by that?”

“By what?”

“What you said. At the sorcerer’s coal hut. About me...” Arthur twiddled his fingers unhelpfully. “Watching you.”

“Nothing, sire,” Merlin said reflexively, jiggling his leg in his impatience. From his position kneeling on a cushion at Merlin’s feet, Arthur shot him a Look. And Merlin caught up to the conversation “Oh. Oh that. Yeah, that? That was nothing.”

“I hope you didn’t mean to suggest—”

“Of course I didn’t!” Merlin held up both hands in a ‘perish the thought!’ gesture.

“Because I’ll have you know,” Arthur said, helping himself to the ties of Merlin’s breeches while Merlin’s hands were otherwise occupied being scandalized, “you are not the first in this, and certainly not the last—”

—Merlin caught his breath at the draw of Arthur’s calloused fingers over the soft head of his cock—

“And it’s hardly an uncommon practice in the royal household, not that you’ve ever troubled yourself with the wider intricacies of this court,”

“Arthur, please,” Merlin whined, fighting to keep his knees from shaking.

Arthur narrowed his eyes up the length of Merlin’s pink shaft and right into Merlin’s pink face. “Well go on, then.”

Merlin squeaked, unlocking the muscles in his groin and swaying for the long moment it took his bladder to catch up with his brain. His cock jerked with the force of his stream, catching Arthur sharply in the cheek and earning Merlin another tolerant glare. “Oh, thank god,” Merlin said, steadying himself on Arthur’s shoulder before his knees gave out.

“It’s not as if this is an unusual service to ask for, Merlin,” Arthur said, bowing his head under Merlin’s cock so that piss filtered in liquid golden contrast through his hair.

“And it does wonders for your complexion,” Merlin groaned, biting his lip, “I know.”

“My point,” Arthur said, combing his sopping fringe off of his forehead, “is that these unnatural desires are your burden alone to bear.”

Merlin nodded, gripping himself and wincing at the mild sting of growing stiffness in his prick so soon after such intense relief. “Of course.”

“I’m only doing this to help you out. As a friend,” Arthur said, eyes wide and very blue under the wet clumps of his lashes.

“Of course, sire,” Merlin repeated, forestalling any more conversation by the expedient of his cock in his prince’s mouth. “Your indulgence is greatly appreciated.”

Yayyy, this calls for alcohol!