belgianpeasant
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When will Merlin cease this nonsense? He has mastered the impossible: dragging Arthur feet first down the stairs of Camelot’s class structure until he’d tasted the dirt his poorest people slept on, while still managing to always put Arthur first. It is a contradiction, a contrast Arthur cannot rationalize. But damn it all, he wishes Merlin might try putting himself first for once. If not for Merlin’s own happiness, or their friendship which is the most precious thing Arthur has ever been trusted with, then for the hope-cum-desire that Merlin might one day return his romantic feelings not out of obligation but out of want.
Merlin serves. Serves looks, serves dungeon time, and serves Arthur.
Series
- Part 2 of The Golden Age
Bookmarked by belgianpeasant
14 Jun 2026
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“I didn’t know!” Merlin’s voice rises in pitch now to match Arthur’s. “I didn’t know what you would do, not at first—”
“And what about after I helped you get the druid boy out of the castle? Hmm?”
Arthur has Merlin there, or at least he thinks he does. Certainly, Merlin deflates a bit, and the strange, heavy atmosphere that had settled over them seems to lighten slightly. But the next words out of Merlin’s mouth are, “So I was supposed to just let you make me leave too? I couldn’t do that, Arthur, I wouldn’t. Not then, not ever.”
“I wouldn’t have sent you away,” Arthur protests before he can think better of it. He’s struggling to hold onto the anger, the betrayal, but in the face of Merlin’s own evident pain, his overwhelming instinct is to make it go away. “I would have never sent you away, Merlin!”
“Why not?” Merlin demands.
“Don’t—” Arthur swallows hard. “Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he goes on, barely more than a whisper. “Not now.”
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In which Arthur finds discovers Merlin's magic due to Merlin's own bleeding heart, they acknowledge the bond they share, and Arthur realizes that he never had to know about Merlin's magic to truly know him anyway.
Bookmarked by belgianpeasant
13 Jun 2026
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Merlin starts a courtship, and Arthur’s fine with it. Completely fine with it.
In which Arthur discovers that he’s not fine with it, and some other things about himself.
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Bookmarked by belgianpeasant
11 Jun 2026
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“… did ye take ‘em?” came James’ voice, brown gaze lifting to bore into Sherlock.
“‘Course not,” Sherlock replied, taking offence to the question, “I had no reason to.”
“Well apparently, younger ye didn’t need a reason to.” James rose from his bed and his face was now level with the other man’s. “I’ve heard the rumours. Why would a boy of yer standin’ steal? Kleptomania, of course.”
Sherlock stared right at him, before he laughed, the sound like static. “Do you really believe those baseless claims?”
“They say that it’s the unconscious desire of every thief to be caught,” James ignored his question and took a step forward, canting his head up. “That it’s the fear of incarceration that gives freedom its currency.”
“The fundamental fault of man is to think the enemy is external, not internal. Prison is in here—” Sherlock tapped his temple with an index finger— “not out there.”
James laughed, eyes dancing with mirth. “Hark at you with yer Art of War…”
Sherlock only grins in response.
Perhaps James was looking at this mystery from an entirely wrong perspective.
or: a modern jameslock uni au where they frolic around and solve mysteries
Bookmarked by belgianpeasant
10 Jun 2026
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“I won't have that in my home-” he said firmly, as though the alternative was simply unthinkable. “Christ alive, Sherlock, it's probably got every disease known to man–and then a couple more!” He tried to reason his way out of this mess–Sherlock had liked reason, once upon a time. Apparently not anymore, though.
“I disagree–it seems to be a perfectly fine cat. And it will be useful for your rehabilitation,” Sherlock announced with utmost confidence, swaying forward on his feet with that infuriatingly selfsure look in his eyes. “You need to learn how to look after a living thing besides yourself–” James opened his mouth to speak, and was immediately cut off, “–one that isn't me.”
The cat wound itself around James’ legs, and reached up to claw at the tapestry chair he was sitting in. He glared at it; it backed off. He turned the same glare on Sherlock; Sherlock did not back off. What an utter prick.
OR:
The “James Moriarty gets a cat” fic. Well, Sherlock finds a cat, determines that it would be a delightful addition to their household, and promptly adopts it. James isn't pleased with this development... But maybe it won't be all bad.
Bookmarked by belgianpeasant
07 Jun 2026