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BBC MERLIN 4.12 ✽ The Sword in the Stone, Part 1

#OMFG just KISS already! #this is torture! #and that's coming from someone who is usually completely BLIND and oblivious to these sort of stuff #merlin #these two #I swear...

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bbc merlin - 03x07 The Castle of Fyrien

they might not be the best at small lies. but elaborate, grand plan lies? oh, they've GOT it

#these two #istg #merlin

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Just try not to think about how Arthur was probably waiting around for Merlin to join him in whatever you classify as heaven, and Merlin waiting around for Arthur to join him back on earth.

Both of them just waiting patiently, only for the other to never come.

#just one question #WHO HURT YOU?! #fuck this #*leaves to die*

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#jiří voskovec my beloved #twelve angry men #12 angry men

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MERLIN | 5.05 The Disir

#gods he’s stupidly pretty here #it’s annoying #stop!

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Arthur, walks in and falls face first onto the bed: Merlin made me feel things.

Morgana, too used to his bullshit: What things?

Arthur: Feelings.

Morgana: Merlin made you feel feelings?

Arthur: Yeah.

Morgana: Again?

Arthur: Yeah.

Morgana: How dare he.

#exactly #how dare he?!

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It was one of those nights: the peaceful ones where both King and Court Warlock could shed their titles and just exist as two friends sharing cups of wine beside a fire. Both were silent as they nursed their drinks and basked in the dim lighting the fire provided Arthur’s dark chambers.

Merlin was lying across the floor on top of countless pillows and blankets, parallel to the hearth of the fireplace. His feet were bare as he had kicked off his boots hours earlier and the cords of his tunic were pulled extremely loose. Merlin’s legs were crossed one over the other as one hand played with a lock of his own hair as the other blindly traced the engravings of his goblet.

Arthur was sat his chair above Merlin, facing the fire and looking down at the peaceful man. He was glad that Merlin’s eyes were closed because it allowed the King to openly stare. For someone who was regarded to be so aware of everything all of the time - Merlin has not once ever cottoned on to Arthur’s gaze on him. In a way, it was reassuring that Arthur didn’t have to fear being caught by the very man he was observing. But it another way it was far too frustrating: Arthur nearly wanted to be caught and then in turn be forced to admit his reasons for staring.

For the Goddess’ sake, how could Arthur not look anywhere but Merlin with the man lying so enchantingly in front of him, doused in the golden light of the flames?

How could he lay his eyes elsewhere when nothing and no one else brought him nearly as much happiness and fulfilment in his heart than Merlin?

How could he when Merlin was everything that he loved?

The nearly empty goblet rested on his lap with his hands encircling the rim, it would be stupid to say it.

“Merlin?” Arthur broke their silence.

Merlin hummed in response, he didn’t move nor open his eye, but the tone of his voice easily told Arthur that he was listening.

“I’m in love with you.” Oh, fuck.

The body in front of him stilled. Merlin’s hand retracted from his hair as he slowly sat up. Arthur couldn’t tell you when the Warlock’s eyes had opened but he could give you a thousand words at least on what it felt like to be under their unending gaze. Merlin didn’t look away from Arthur as he got to his feet and came to stand in front of his King.

Merlin might not have ever been aware of when Arthur’s eyes were on him - but Arthur was far too aware of Merlin’s piercing stare. The King averted his eyes and stared down at the lingering mouthful of wine in his cup, listening to Merlin’s few footsteps.

A hand slid underneath Arthur’s jaw and half cupped the side of his face: hesitantly, Arthur let himself be guided to look up at Merlin. Had it been anyone else, this would have been so dangerous - to willing put his heart and mind at risk by giving someone else so much control over him would have been a death wish if it were anyone else.

Yet this was Merlin, the one person in his life that he would faithfully trust the world with to the ends of time.

It was sad eyes that Arthur saw. Not angry. Not disgusted. Not hurt, or even happy. Sad, sad, eyes that Arthur would nearly say were brokenhearted.

Merlin sighed with a pained and defeated expression. “Not again.”

“What?” Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat.

Merlin smiled with a soft pain, his thumb stroked over Arthur cheek as he said, “You don’t love me, Arthur.”

“I- I do.” Arthur stammered, he hadn’t anticipated out right refusal, denial and disbelief as an outcome. “I do love you, Merlin.”

Merlin swallows and seemed to choke back tears.

“No, Arthur, you don’t.” He repeated. “This is a love enchantment, this has happened before. You aren’t in love with me.”

The words were far too rehearsed, Merlin’s expression too knowing and understanding. Arthur felt like a petulant child being gently corrected on the truth. Had this really happened before? Had Arthur been enchanted to be in love with Merlin before?

“Merlin, I know my feelings, please believe me.” Arthur begged in futile.

“I don’t think you realise how badly I want to, but I can’t.”

Arthur’s eyes widened at Merlin’s confession - even though the feelings were reciprocated, Arthur was still being rejected - but he saw it. He saw all of the held back and restrained love Merlin held in his eyes for Arthur. He finally was bearing witness to Merlin’s affection, only because the Warlock was allowing him to.

“Is it really so unbelievable that I love you that you are convinced my mind is under the control of a spell of potion?”

“I know you love me - in the way friends love one another, brothers even.” Merlin stressed, his words clearly hurting himself. “But you don’t love me the way I want you to, you never have and you never will.”

“You do want me to love you like this?” Arthur countered.

Merlin closed his eyes and shakily let out a sob, his hands ran from Arthur’s jaw and face, around the King’s neck and weakly grasped at the back of Arthur’s head. He pressed his face into Arthur’s hair, Arthur pulled Merlin in closer and strung his arms around the Warlock’s waist and back: he could feel Merlin weep.

“You won’t remember this conversation, you never have, so why not?” Merlin muttered with a bitterness that surprised the King. “I have loved you for years, Arthur, what I feel for you goes beyond the devotion of prophecy and bond of friendship. I’ve always known that you will never feel the same.”

How his heart ached on the verge of breaking: Merlin loved him. He was in love with Arthur. He felt the same as Arthur but clearly awful past experiences that Arthur cannot remember are preventing him from acting on the truth.

Arthur tried to speak but was cut off before he could even utter a syllable.

“No, Arthur, please stop.” Merlin said, slipping out of Arthur embrace. He looked so guilty.

Merlin believed Arthur not to be in control of his mind and actions, he believed Arthur to be susceptible to anything. Though Merlin was nowhere near the kind of person to take advantage of someone under the influence of something mind altering. Even though this ‘supposed potion or enchantment’ was giving him what the Warlock wanted, Merlin still held back and refused.

Even such a simple embrace, the kind of embrace that was becoming more commonly between them as the years progressed seemed to wreck so much regret through the man - Arthur wanted to shake him and scream at how wrong Merlin was: that he could and was consenting to any any hold or touch Merlin could or would give him.

Arthur stood up and met Merlin far too closely. Their faces were mere inches apart, dangerously so. The King saw how badly Merlin wanted to give in, he could see the arguments and thought process that Merlin was going through.

His hand hovered over the side of Merlin’s face as leaned in closer.

“Don’t.”

He froze.

“You’re not in the right state of mind.” Merlin breathed out, more for his own sake than Arthur’s.

Arthur hand fell to his side but he didn’t move away.

“Please tell me how I can prove my honesty.” He asked.

Merlin looked down with resignation and then turned away to the doors.

“Come, Sire, follow me.” Merlin murmured as he left.

He hadn’t called Arthur ‘Sire’ in years, not even in heated arguments did Merlin enforce that distance between them. It spoke tales to Arthur on how hurt his best friend was. He dashed after Merlin, it wasn’t hard to follow the sound of weary footsteps.

They were heading for Merlin’s laboratory. Arthur caught up with broken hearted Warlock and joined their hands together - Merlin allowed it.

Met with the smell of dodgy potions, old books, strong herbs, ash and numerous other smells that Arthur had grown familiar with associating with Merlin’s experiments, Arthur saw and felt Merlin relax slightly. They were on his ground now, they followed his rules.

Arthur let go of Merlin’s hand and took his chair that he always sat in when observing Merlin work.

“You stare a lot.” Merlin said as he leafed through shelves of bottles - no doubt searching for a cure-all potion that he had concocted in earlier years.

“I always have, you’ve just never noticed.” Arthur replied honestly.

Merlin sighed for the thousandth time that hour and stood up straight and returned to Arthur, bottle in hand. It was a small vial with opaque pink liquid filling less than a third of the bottle. He stood on the other side of the work bench and handed over the vial of anti-serum.

Wordlessly and without hesitation Arthur uncorked the bottle and drank his mouthful. Setting down the bottle, he leaned closer to Merlin, head propped up by his elbow, hand under chin, staring at Merlin patiently.

The Warlock also leaned closer, gold creeping into his eyes without a single incantation as he analysed Arthur’s reaction to the potion. The world seemed to hold its breath as it waited for the two men to get onto the same page.

“Well, am I really under an enchantment?” Arthur asked after a very long pause.

Merlin’s mouth fell open as his brow and eyes once again creased into tears.

“No… You aren’t.” Merlin managed to say, covering his face as he cried.

Arthur stood up and joined Merlin on the other side of the workbench. He pulled the shocked and relieved and sobbing Warlock into another hug. Both holding onto each other equally tight.

“I love you, Merlin.” Arthur promised his Warlock firmly.

#this #thank you #bye #merlin #these two

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Arthur: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out? Merlin: …Have you never taken a shower before?

Merlin, 10 years later: OH MY GOD HE WAS FLIRTING. Arthur, next to him in bed: Merlin, we're married.

#oh dear this would be so me #merlin #these two

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I'm watching a fanartist stream and I just-

#I mean… #both as writer and reader

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I just love your language, Iceland ♡

#everything about this #accurate post being accurate

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my favourite merlin hc of mine is that arthur will only return when merlin gives up on the idea of him doing so. That when merlin gives up on him coming back, his magic starts to fade with his hope and that the danger albion faces that requires the king to return isnt world wars or global pandemics, its when the world loses its magic.

#I mean this is THE headcanon of mine #and since Merlin holds Arthur in such a high regard #it would take SO - MUCH - TIME for him to truly loose his hope #merlin #these two

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what is the best word for death in any language and why is it the german translation

#*crying* #literal perfection

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In the beginning, when Merlin still hated Arthur (which admittedly wasn't very long), he'd write him letters. He'd put them on his desk, his pillow, anywhere. They were styled like love notes, but inside, Merlin wrote: "Fuck you" in it.

And since no one knew where they came from *cough magic cough*, no one could be arrested on the account.

When they became friends, Merlin didn't quite stop. It remained hate notes in the beginning and he'd tease Arthur about them because clearly someone agreed with Merlin (who was just a servant and couldn't write, obviously).

In time, however, the notes didn't seem funny anymore and they seemed to wear on Arthur's shoulders.

So, slowly, the messages changed. The fuck yous turned into encouraging lines. Telling Arthur that despite his obvious flaws, he was a good Prince/king. And whenever Arthur became so sad and overwhelmed with life that he'd push anyone away, the message would be something reassuring and kind.

Sometimes it would be advise. Sometimes a joke to cheer him up. Rarely, it would be a request for someone who needed Arthur's help.

And Arthur fell in love with the writer of those letters. He kept all of them. Every single one. From the first "fuck you" to the first "you're loved."

Sometimes, Arthur looks up and hopes it's Merlin.

#tell me there is a fanfic for this #or one in the making #please! #merlin #these two #this would be so them!

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Arthur: *taking a bath*

Merlin: *walks in and climbs into the tub*

Arthur, unfazed: You know, you're getting weirder.

#I love how we all agree Merlin would be fully clothed #because of course he would #headcanon accepted #merlin #these two

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Aziraphale has still some modern things to learn...

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 1 : here

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 2 : here

#they are just too adorable #good omens #too good to be true #too cute to be true

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Aziraphale being a bit of a bastard….

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 1 : here

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 2 : here

#love this #good omens #too good to be true

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Danému chlapci může být klidně přes padesát, ale pořád je to chlapec

#velice já #analogicky k tomu je každá osoba ženského pohlaví slečna #bez ohledu na věk a počet vysokoškolských titulů #čumblr