1 - 20 of 65 Works by TheDragon
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“Hello,” Damianos says, voice gruff with sleep and the aftermath of panic. There is a smile playing around his lips, the barest hint of a dimple on one of his cheeks. He looks soft, sleep-mussed, and not at all alarmed.
It’s insulting.
With a single swift movement, Laurent draws his knife from the sheath at his thigh and presses the tip of it to Damianos’ bared throat—not drawing blood, but threatening it. He uses the flat of the blade to tilt his head up.
“Not another word,” Laurent whispers, leaning down so his words brush against Damianos’ lips. “And don’t even think about calling for the guards.”
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Damen's back burns with an unrelenting fury. Blood drips to the floor and pools beneath his bare feet. He's slipped more times than he can count, his hip crashing again and again into the whipping post they've bound him to.
It'll stain, he thinks blearily through the haze. It'll soak so deep into the porous concrete that nothing will ever be able to get the discoloration out. The entire warehouse will need to be renovated to hide what happened here.
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A shocking betrayal sends Arthur Pendragon to the doorstep of his enemy, Merlin Wyllt. Except they haven’t always been enemies—once, they’d been lovers. The shadows grow darker even as sparks fly. Will they be able to set aside their differences to work together once more or is the world doomed?
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Merlin learns, quickly, that it's much less painful to shove the shame deep, deep down and do as Arthur says. When commanded, he lies down at Arthur's feet, barks when told to speak, pulls his hands up to his chest and begs, even, when Arthur taunts him with a treat.
Series
- Part 1 of Pet
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"It brings me no joy to have to resort to such measures," Lord de Vere says. The wine has stained his mouth blood-red. He dabs at it with a napkin. "But the older my nephew grows, the harder it becomes to ignore his… affliction."
Damen hums in vague agreement. "You mentioned a curse in your letter."
The missive arrived not a fortnight ago at the inn he was staying at. The messenger held it in his hands with something not unlike reverence and seemed unwilling to part with the parchment as Damen went to take it from him. The elder de Vere, it would appear, is well-liked in these parts.
The same cannot be said for his nephew.
"I'm sure you're aware of the Curse of the Black Sun," Lord de Vere says, quietly. His eyes wander the room as though he's making sure no one is around to hear. "My nephew was born on that unfortunate night, twenty years past."
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"So you—what? Want me to use my magic to help you?" Merlin asks, struggling not to let his disgust show.
"Not your magic, no," the man finally says after a too-long silence, interrupted only by the clanking of Merlin's shackles as he finally pulls himself to his feet. "The ritual would be performed on you. It can be done with or without your consent, but the chance of success will be much higher if you go into this willingly."
"And the ritual is?" Merlin asks after a beat.
"It's meant to dissolve the soulbond between you and King Arthur."
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"Good boy," Arthur says, resting his hand atop Merlin's head. He cards his fingers through Merlin's hair for a moment, before tugging on it, forcing him to look up. "I'm very pleased with you," he says, smiling again as Merlin's tense muscles relax upon hearing the praise. "But you did wake me, and I believe that I deserve some sort of recompense."
Series
- Part 2 of Pet
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It was panic that drove him from the castle wearing nothing more than a torn tunic and a stained pair of trousers; that, and pain. There isn’t a part of him that doesn’t hurt in some way, that isn’t covered by blood, or bruised black and blue. With every step, agony shoots up his spine and more than once, he has to slow down to catch his breath.
He can’t go back now. He can’t. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Agravaine’s body lying against the wall, blood trickling from his cracked skull to pool beneath his head. Merlin can never go back after what happened.
Arthur will never forgive him.
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When he sees Morgana's hands coming up, Arthur doesn't react, and by the time they're pressed against his chest it's too late. One harsh, violent shove later, Arthur stumbles back, his own hands reaching out to hold onto anything and everything they can reach. Mortar crumbles beneath his fingers and stone digs into the back of his calves, and by then it's far, far too late.
Morgana's ice-cold gaze is the last thing Arthur sees before he comes crashing down to the ground, landing winded but seemingly in one piece at the feet of the most gorgeous man he's ever seen in his life.
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When Merlin sees Arthur riding into the courtyard, his cape billowing in the wind and hair glistening in the light of the setting sun, he lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He’s safe, then. He’s safe, which is nothing short of a miracle considering he couldn’t be arsed to take Merlin with him.
Series
- Part 4 of Kinkalot 2021
- Part 3 of desperate times, desperate measures
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Gods, Merlin can't remember the last time sex felt this good. Everything is so much brighter with his magic uncontained. The little bolts of pleasure shooting up his spine are stronger than what he’s used to, and Merlin wonders how much of that is down to this ill-advised experimental spell he used to conjure his partner, and how much is down to the fact that it's Arthur's double who's bedding him.
Series
- Part 3 of Kinkalot 2021
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Wherein Merlin and Arthur have sex all over the castle, and Gwaine enjoys the show.
Series
- Part 2 of Kinkalot 2021
- Part 2 of desperate times, desperate measures
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"Merlin," Arthur says, smirking down at him, any and all hints of the blush gone from his face. Merlin hates the way having that smirk directed at him makes him feel—dangerously like he'd be willing to do whatever Arthur asks of him. "What do you say we take this conversation somewhere a bit more… private."
Series
- Part 1 of Kinkalot 2021
- Part 1 of desperate times, desperate measures
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Merlin never would have done it if he'd known. He wouldn't have called forth that torrent of fire, not if he knew Arthur was still conscious and able to see it.
Series
- Part 9 of Merlin Fanart
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He sees Gwen, and then suddenly, Arthur is in his chambers, collapsed against the door and biting down on his wrist to hold back his own sobs. Merlin only stumbled into Camelot a few years ago, but he fit himself into Arthur's life so seamlessly, so perfectly, that the thought of him being gone is unreal. Impossible.
What's he meant to do now?
What's Arthur meant to do now that his only friend is dead?
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"Morgana?" Gwen asks, bringing one hand to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. She's even more beautiful now than she was when they were both back at school. "H—how…?"
"Gwen," Morgana replies, struggling to keep her voice steady. The feelings she'd tried so hard to rid herself of all those years ago rise to the fore, refusing to be held back any longer.
"I can't believe my eyes," Gwen breathes.
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Wherein Arthur falls victim to yet another love potion, except this time, it has him setting his sights on Merlin.
Cue lots of heartbreak, angst, and pining.
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Nothing So Kingly by TheDragon for Cosmo Cat (magicalmysticalmanservant)
Fandoms: Merlin (TV)
09 Feb 2021
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To the people of Camelot, Merlin is nothing more than King Arthur's pet sorcerer. To Arthur, he's everything.
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They used to be different, the dreams; they've changed over the years. The person condemning him to death used to be nothing more than an expressionless, vacant face attached to a man's body; yet when he moved to Camelot it became Uther: his face red with rage and veins throbbing at his temple and the side of his neck.
Those dreams were fine. Those, Merlin got used to.
Worse are the ones where it’s Arthur ordering his execution instead. Merlin can’t let go of those quite as easily.
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"Subject 451," Arthur says, looking down at the clipboard in his hands and clicking his pen twice.
"My name is Merlin!" the subject snarls, lunging upwards.