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WilsonWrites
Sometimes, I write things.
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Forever finding the will to write
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“We accept the love we think we deserve.” – Stephen Chbosk
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CW: Mentions of thoughts of suicide, w/comfort and a realization
“But– you told me– my God Merlin, all that time– you told me magic should be banned!” Arthur had to shout over the rising wind. Something warm trickled down the side of his face, and he swiped at it without looking, “Why would you do that? Don’t you know what could have happened?”
Merlin looked as wrecked as Arthur sounded, a crumpled heap of a man on what was left of the floor of Uther’s Great Hall. Around them the knights, those who had survived, stood staring. Morgana’s corpse, propped in a sitting position by the sword still buried in her torso, stared too; hate in her sneering face, even in death. Arthur looked away.
“I should be dead. Arthur, you don’t know… you don’t know what I’ve done. What I am. I wish I was dead. Things would probably be better if I were.” Merlin spoke without looking up, his face buried in his hands, but Arthur heard. In three quick steps he was at Merlin’s side, hauling the other man to his feet bodily, “Don’t say that, you damned fool, it’s not true. Don’t ever say that again. Don’t even think it.” When Merlin still didn’t look at him he shook the other man once, for emphasis, “I command it. No more.”
“It’s true, though,” Merlin whispered, but he leaned forward until his head was on Arthur’s shoulder. “Everyone would be better off if I were.”
“Not me.” Arthur replied automatically, “Not Gaius. Not Gwen. Not– what was his name? That Druid boy. You saved him.”
Merlin just laughed at that, turning his head until he found the warm skin of Arthur’s neck. He was so cold. “You have no idea.” He muttered. As he quieted, so did the unnatural wind. The bodies of Morgana’s undead army lay around them like fallen leaves, no trace of the animating magic that once made them so deadly. Magic. It made Arthur wonder…
“Morgana she– she said that you were some kind of special wizard. The Memress?”
“Emrys,” Merlin corrected quietly. “That’s what they think I am, but Arthur, it’s all wrong. Everything I try to do goes wrong. I’m rubbish. They all think I’m some fated hero, but I’m just making everything worse.”
“And so you wish you were dead.”
Merlin chuckled, but the sound was hollow and cold, “Why not? I can’t do anything right.”
“What would happen to your magic, if you died? Morgana said you have more than anyone else.” Arthur pressed, and his body was suddenly tense under Merlin.
He frowned against the prince’s– well, now king’s, he supposed– skin. “I don’t know. Magic can’t die, can it? I guess it would just… be free?”
“Maybe that’s what it wants.”
The air was suddenly still. Actually, everything was still. Arthur blinked at the dust motes frozen in the air, a tiny constellation. Merlin was ridged against him. “What did you just say?”
#I put the sad stuff mostly under the cut#IT DOES GET DARK HEED THE CW#Also there is a corpse#fiddling around with an idea#ALLL THE WORKS IN PROGRESS THERE IS NEVER ENOUGH#merlin fanfic#merthur#merthur fanfiction#mine#merlin fanfiction#arthur x merlin
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“You seduce sailors?” Arthur asked, frowning. The Merrow was beautiful, like a sculpture made from sea glass. His hair was the only part of him that looked real, like it wouldn’t break under his hand; it was wavy and damp and so black that it shone blue-green in the light. His eyes were large, fringed with inky black lashes that would have made Morgana green with envy, and the exact same blue as the waters of the cove he was swimming in. His skin was pale and flawless, his chest dotted with shimmering white scales that condensed at his collarbones and flowed up his shoulders. “Which sailors do you seduce?”
Now the Merrow threw back his head and laughed, the sound was like bells, “Any I can find,” he said, “any that are pretty.” He surged up out of the water, spilling cool water and warm, smooth flesh into Arthur’s lap. Automatically he caught the Merrow, hands coming up to steady him by the shoulders.
#merthur fanfiction#mine#merlin fanfiction#arthur x merlin#Have I posted this before? I don't thiiiink so#I'm calling it Merlmaids for the moment I think#Merlmaids#Hopefully this thing will be done by May WE SHALL SEE#Hint hint Arthur you are pretty
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“What—“ Before Arthur could finish the question something changed— Merlin’s hand in his was no longer smooth and warm. Instead, something hard and rough, like well-worn fabric, was between their palms. Arthur gripped what he realized was a hilt (was it damp?) and pulled.
The blade came forth from thin air, spraying water, of all things, as it materialized. The attacking sorcerers stopped in their tracks, and Arthur thought he heard someone scream, but he wasn’t sure if it was friend or foe.
Arthur whirled, swinging the blade. It moved like an extension of his arm, perfectly balanced and almost unnervingly light. It sang as it cut the air, and he realized he was smiling. “Come on, then!” He cried, swinging the sword and grinning like a fool. “Come and see what you make of me!”
Merlin was at his side again, and his pleasure was a small bonfire in Arthur’s chest, “Of us,” He corrected, “Come, and see what you make of the prophecies now!”
#merthur fanfiction#mine#dragonlordff#merlin fanfic#arthur x merlin#merthur#my toxic trait is being in love with prophecies and fated badasses#It might be kinda cheap but I love it fight me#BAMF Arthur#BAMF Merlin#now kiss
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Exasperation, a buzz of fond irritation sizzled along the back of his neck, then Merlin was at his back. He carried no blade, but his hands were glowing like torches, sparking and snapping with power. The shadow warriors drew back, eyes wide.
Traitor! It took Arthur a moment to realize that the harsh sound wasn’t spoken aloud— Someone, one of the attackers, shouted it in Arthur’s mind. But— how? He realized with a jolt that it was Merlin who had been accused— was he sharing the Druid’s Speaking with Arthur? How long had that been possible?
It isn’t, Merlin’s mental voice, familiar and warm, spoke softly in his mind, I’ve only heard of such sharing among the long-bonded, ancient pairings with great power.
Why are you whispering? Arthur thought back, feeling awkward and foolish as he always did when trying to think at Merlin.
Suddenly the blue-eyed sorcerer was in front of him. Only years of training kept him from accidentally disemboweling his partner on sheer reflex— “Fool!” he hissed, fear quickly warming into anger, “You can’t just—“
Merlin pressed close, oblivious of the blade, oblivious of the attackers, and slid his hand into Arthur’s— their marks sparked when they touched, a moment of static that buzzed up Arthur’s veins. The sorcerer grinned fiercely, Take up your blade, King of Albion, he sent to Arthur, Show the doubters and the fools who they have challenged.
Future snip from this fic.
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Merlin wasn’t in his line of sight, and he didn’t dare turn his head to look. The enemy was after his father, that much was clear— while they’d engaged with the guard, and harried the courtiers, slashing gleefully at the unarmed politicians and nobility as they fled, screaming, there was a concentrated attack on Uther himself. Arthur ducked, barely avoiding having his head chopped off by a silver-gray blade while on the other side of the king three knights battled against a deluge of masked sorcerers, slashing with the blades that Merlin had spelled for them just a fortnight ago.
He’d had to keep it from his father, at the time. Now, gold sparked against gold and Arthur could feel the tingle in his mark as his bonded’s power defended the kingdom that hated him.
The prince grit his teeth.
His body was tiring, but he could feel the warm swell of Merlin’s power keeping him on his feet. He was aware that he fought alone in his dinner clothes against more men than the three armored knights behind him were managing together. There was a sound behind him, the smallest dragging of a boot on the tile, and the prince whirled to meet the attack. There was a twist of fear in his gut, a strange echo that he knew wasn’t his own— Merlin was watching.
“Don’t just stand there!” The prince shouted, “Come play!”
A future snip from this fic!
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We are trending for no reason again lmao I love you so much Merlin fandom please never change 🫶🫶🫶🥹🥹🥹
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sunkissed ❤
#THE TOP OF THE TOWER#LOOKS LIKE A CROWN#AHHHHHHHH#i am extremely normal about all fandom artwork all the time thanks
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The heavy wooden door hit the wall with a thud. Arthur didn’t look up from his desk, though he itched to know if it had been kicked or shoved open.
“You!” boots stomped across the tile floor; the faint musical chime of the wards sparking to life told Arthur that the mage was coming closer.. He didn’t need the enchanted floor to tell him there was a magician in his rooms– the warm tingle of magic licked against his cheeks, neck, the backs of his exposed hands as Merlin thundered closer.
“You’re leaking.” The king said, casually. Merlin stopped, blustering. Little eddies of magic continued to flow from him, washing around the room. Arthur tilted his head, still not looking up, but enjoying the gentle heat wash over his face.
“Why are you wearing your uniform?” Merlin snapped. Arthur imagined his arms were crossed.
“The Camlann Accords.” Arthur flipped the page he was staring at, pretending to study the map printed on the other side.
“What?”
“It’s against the Camlann Accords to torture a soldier in uniform.” Arthur straightened the cuff of his red jacket. “And, you like it.”
The sorcerer sputtered, “This isn’t a battle.”
“Morgana is involved,” Arthur said, and allowed himself the treat of looking up, watching those blue eyes widen as the realization hit. His dark curls were wild, and the king could easily imagine the handsome sorcerer running his fingers through the soft strands over and over as he’d waited for the court attendants to admit him. it must have taken a while. “Everything is a battle with my sister.”
Blue eyes narrowed, “You have a spy.”
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Don't you think you owe it to readers to give them what they want?
No? What an odd take. Read my fic or don't.
#I think we owe it to readers to give what we put in the tags#don’t like don’t read babes#it’s a beautiful thing#also#you could always make a polite request someone might be willing to oblige
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“I did not do it intentionally.” The creature said, and even his speaking voice was luxurious; just listening to the words as like being wrapped in the finest velvet. Incredibly, Arthur felt some of his pain in his body fade under the soothing tones. “You have my apologies, Land Dweller.”
“I do not want your apologies. I demand you return me to my ship.”
The creature cocked its head, “Your ship is resting below the waves. You wish to see it?”
Anger was good, anger was clarifying. It pushed away all other emotion and consideration and wiped the slate clean. The prince gripped the hilt of his knife so tightly his knuckles ached, but it was only a drop in the ocean of pain. “My men. You killed them.”
#merlin fanfiction#merthur fanfiction#merthur#mine#now kiss#YES he is a mermaid I CANNOt ReSISt MErmAIDS OK#maybe this will be a mermay thing WE SHALL SEE#two chapter ish so far
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No sooner had the door closed then Merlin was there, leaning out of the shadows by the cold hearth and crawling onto his bed like a panther.
“Don’t tell me you can turn into a shadow now,” Arthur turned just his head, and hissed; His whole body groaned with pain at every motion. “If my father sees you in here–”
Merlin flashed his boyish smile, radiating easy-going cheerfulness from the dimples on his cheeks all the way up to the crinkles around eyes that were fading from gold to blue. “He won’t catch me.”
Arthur regretted taking Gaius’ draught; the familiar fog of the poppy was beginning to swirl into his mind. He tried to push it back as the now blue-eyed sorcerer slid across the coverlet until he sat nearly at Arthur’s elbow. He reached out and– as though there was not already enough shocking informality– traced a finger across the black lines marked across the back of Arthur's right hand. “You saved me." The prince said, watching the offending finger with suspicion, "From the poison. With magic.”
Merlin’s smile dimmed, but he kept his eyes on his task. “It was a flower, actually.”
“A magic flower.”
Merlin frowned at Arthur's hand, confusion coloring his voice. “Yes?” His finger traced higher, up over Arthur’s wrist and onto his arm, pushing up the edge of his sleeve.
“So you cured me with magic.”
“Is there another way to break a spell?” Merlin asked, very gently, as if he were talking to a child.
“Oh for–look, My father let you use magic.”
#merthur#merlin fanfiction#merthur fanfiction#mine#arthur x merlin#I am not dead ppl I promise#I'm just on a deadline for another fic#also#the baaaanter!
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"haunting the narrative" is one of those phrases i wanna put up on a shelf. not all characters that are dead haunt the narrative. not all characters that are dead haunt the narrative. not all characters that haunt the narrative are dead.
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How do people in epic fantasy worlds even distinguish between actual prophecies and trolly scrolls some fratboys made up for kicks and gigs 5000 years ago?
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Participating in research about the motivation of fanfiction authors
Want to take part in a study on motivations for writing fanfiction and help out a fan studies researcher? Gaille Alyssa Stanley from the University of Cyberjaya (UOC), Malaysia has received approval from their Ethics Review Board for their study and is looking for fans 18 years old and above who write and publish fanfiction online without receiving monetary profit.
The online questionnaire is 14 questions and estimated to take 1 hour. All information will remain private and confidential. The information will not be disclosed to anyone other than the researcher and supervisor. The data will be collected anonymously and no personal data (e.g., name and address) will be required, except for email address as a means of communication. The data of the study will be used solely for research purposes and will not be shared to any external parties.
You can find out more about the study and access contact information at the consent form link.
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“Do not imagine that your petty magic can harm me!” The dragon roared. Merlin stared. Petty magic … is that what it had been, all along? All the promises of destiny and untold power, and now here the truth between them laid bare. Merlin could do nothing to stop the beast once his chains were off. Had Kilgarrah known all along? The warlock shook his head, tears burning in his eyes.
What kind of fool listened to the promises of a prisoner?
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And the sub genre; “ok put these guys into the exact same situations as before but just make it end how it obviously should have ended” whoops I’m sorry did I do a Merthur??
2 genres of fanfiction:
1) put that guy into situations
2) take that guy OUT of situations for the love of GOD let them REST
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A question for fanfiction readers & lovers
please reblog for a bigger sample size, and help out a writer who's unsure on how to organize their first long fic:)
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