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#.... merlin has a thing for arthur not wearing trousers
shellyseashell · 8 months
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PRINCESS ELAINE PENDRAGON OF CAMELOT
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universe: descendants
name & meaning: elaine is the name of various arthurian characters, but she’s not based off any of them, or any other arthurian character, because this is descendants, and the existence of artie already ignores arthurian lore. so i do what i want.
age & birthday: she doesn’t know her exact birthday, but she assigned herself July 17, and she’s probably 15-16 (same age as ben)
pronouns: she/her
sexuality: haven’t figured it out yet, but she’s not straight
height: 5’7
face claim: mackenzie foy
powers & species: she’s a fay, and her powers include: teleportation, shapeshifting, spells/runes, and seeing.
mbti: enfp, the campaigner
background: she was born to two fay from avalon, but didn’t grow up there. when she four, when near the border of camelot and auradon (camelot is not part of auradon, because i refuse to believe every fairy tale land is part of it), her parents were killed by anti-magic extremists. she was later rescued by merlin who was in the area for narrative reasons, i guess, who then took her back to caerleon (where arthur holds court). originally, she was going to be sent to avalon to live and train her magic, but in that time she grew attached to arthur, and arthur grew attached to her, so she was adopted instead. however, she’s not the heir — artie, who i renamed loholt, is, because he’s related to arthur by blood, and was already born when she was adopted.
when she was 14, she was sent to auradon as a sort of peace offering? basically, if she apprentices under fairy godmother, and does well, camelot will be left alone. this is not the first, or last, time they have done this.
residence: caerleon or avalon
affiliation: camelot and the round table
weapons & fighting style: uses a sword, and also her magic
hobbies: reading, sword fighting, riding
disney song i associate with them: let me make you proud from tangled the series
miscellaneous:
- wears only tunics and trousers, mostly to spite auradon, who are far more modern than camelot
- i’m still figuring out how i want to work arthuriana into descendants so things are subject to change
- talks a lot, and talks quickly
- holds herself with a lot of confidence, but is actually anxious all the time
- she has nightmares that double as prophetic visions, and they’re often very distressing. she has no idea how to control them, so she usually just doesn’t sleep.
- technically her roommate is jordan, but jordan lives in her lamp, so she has the room to herself. in one of my aus, she rooms with claudine.
- committing treason against auradon is on her bucket list
- her and maddy would be besties if they met
- her current best friend is her cousin, gawain. i’m still figuring out how to disney-ify him, so all i’ll say is they never get away with anything ever.
- struggles to manage her temper, especially in auradon, but she does her best
- i’m not sure if this actually fits in with auradon, but given my other headcanons for how they work, i think it fits. to keep her in line, fairy godmother makes her wear iron when she gets too defiant, or is failing her lessons. which is yknow, deadly for fay. audrey and jane figured out how to remove it for her, so as long as fg never finds out, she’s fine.
- fairy godmother also tries to train her to do magic she literally cannot do, because they’re too different types of fay
- she tries to present herself as being perfect, as being less than perfect could mean war. she is failing. miserably.
- very, very competitive
- had a hard time controlling her magic growing up, but now only struggles with her visions
- she idolizes her father, which leads to a lot disappointment, and is the root of some of her perfectionism
- really likes birds, except for archimedes. she thinks he’s annoying.
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spyxfamilyanalysis · 10 months
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FACTS OF SPY x FAMILY! (7): Twilight/ Loid Forger (Part 2)
Previous post: FACTS OF SPY x FAMILY (6)
Spoiler for this post: Suits~
And now, we will continue the topic about: Things we might know/ don't know about Twilight/ Loid Forger
❗️❗️Warning❗️❗️
Spoilers ahead!
Source: Youtube (Vietnamese)
The video: VẺ BỀ NGOÀI QUAN TRỌNG THẾ SAO?? | TRANG PHỤC THANH LỊCH CỦA TWILIGHT 『SPY x FAMILY』(How important is the appearance?? | Twilight's elegant outfits 『SPY x FAMILY』)(but it's shortened a bit)
Super long post, removed some unnecessary details!
Truly sorry my English NG, and it has been a while since I paused posting anything ;-;
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This time, we are gonna talk about clothes that Twilight wears throughout the series~
Fashion has always been the clearest proof in every historical period. From kimonos, haoris (kimono and haori are Japanese traditional clothes) from Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer) (The Swordsmith Village Arc is out btw), to the modern outfits from Jujutsu no Kaisen (I haven't watched it), SPY x FAMILY with historical background of the cold war period also brings very fashionista and classic European fashion to viewers. Perhaps the most outstanding of all is suites which are seen a lot throughout the series, especially when this outfit is worn on a spy like Twilight.
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So what meaning does this outfit even have? Why do all famous spies usually wear them? LET'S FIND OUT!
In popular cultures like movies, literatures or animes specifically, gentleman characters such as spies are usually described in elegant suites to elevate the elegance and beauty, and power. Particular characters representing for this figure are mentioned such as James Bond, so famous this character has a good impression in the public, or the super spies from The Kingsman which has been famous recently, bearing codename of the noble knights of the round table known as Arthur, Galahad/Harry Hart, Lancelot, or even Merlin the Witch.
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So here's the question: "Why do all spy characters always wear suites?" Before answering, let's go over the history of the development of this outfit. (seriously, after watching the whole video, the words i can describe are "exhaustion", "long for freaking 10 mins", "old history" because I have to translate to ya)
Ever since its appearance, suites are known as the production of the ultimate perfection, the "Power suit" for gentlemen, especially businessmen. Suites are measured with high accuracy, and delicate from the shirt designs, leaf collars to wrists, which symbolize the liveliness of luxury and elegance. With a brief history and development over centuries, suites still hold the top-notch position in men's fashion.
*History~
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Suites (or the compel-veston in Vietnam) is a suit including a frock coat, trousers, a waistcoat or shirt, and they all are made with the same fabric material and color. These gentlemen's clothing are the result of over 400 years of development, along with the improvements of tailoring, materials, and accessories -> the inheritance and selection to become a formal outfit that enhances elegance, yet, show the comfort -> suitable for the operating conditions of the periods.
For example, in Episode 4, when Twilight attended the interview with the Eden's administrators, he had prepared the finest suites for any and every cases happening, and instantly changed to keep the elegance of a fine gentleman. Or in intense combats (like the fight with the mafias/robbers in Episode 1), the suit still brought the absolute comfort because of exact tailoring of the wearer.
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Suites first appeared in around the 17th century, the period of King Charles II - the UK. The standards of tailoring suites were made by King Charles II, based on the dressing of the king Louis XIV's court in France for gentlemen working in English courtroom: a frock coat, a waistcoat, a white tie around the neck, a wig, pants (~trousers), socks, leather shoes and a hat.
However, the modern and official suit first noticed in the beginning of the 19th century thanks to Beau Brummell, a noble and a person of fame of that time. He marked the changes not by eloquence or military power, but by the new changes in men's fashion. Beau Brummell was not the one to invent the elements of fashion in the beginning, but he gathered many inspirations all together and make a coherent whole. Due to being unable to compete accessories and decorations against other nobles, he focused on adjusting in making clothes. His outfits were handmade, sewed with a flat pose, which marked the milestone of the end of long trousers and vests.
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The linen cravats which were tied competently were the precursor of the modern ties, and the shirts which had his favorite structure has the same cutting style as the modern vest. As a result, suites become innovated and well-known all over Europe and the globe. It has formed a new line of thoughts of men's fashion style from now on.
Bonus~
Beau Brummell also approved the new changes of personal hygiene movement(?) at that time. For people born in the same era, showering usually meant by washing their face, arms and hands, and sweating meant removing the poison from your body. He had replaced the dependence on perfume and hair powder (what is even hair powder?) into the definition of bathing and showering every day, even though it did not have anything revolutionary. In short, the former English were very dirty, especially men. The definitions of personal hygiene of that era were still simple, leading to high rate of disease relating to basic hygiene.
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Coming back to fashion~
Around the 19th century, suites become more and more well-known for the royal with less formal design in order to become suitable for use every day. At the end of the 19th century, suites with modern designs like nowadays were officially out. Casual suites' designs are usually changed for the usage of intimate events without any ceremonious needs, like sports, picnic, family gatherings, friends.
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Parallel to the birth of casual clothes, we also have the appearance of new-style party suites used for small parties. The origin of suites with this new party coat took place from the regulation of outfits with white tie, or known as dress code white tie, used for big and fancy parties. However, these new types of outfits are getting detached to a separated dress code known as black tie. This dress code's custom is gradually introduced to America, and it continuously transferred into a tuxedo.
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According to the old custom standards, black tie was only used in small meeting parties, whereas white tie was for big luxurious parties held majestically. However, black tie started to gain popularity more and more, especially the wealthy world because of the modernity, new pace, and replacement for white tie. After many years of development, suit has become men's outfit being populous over decades, but that does not mean suites always hold the leading position in all of historical stages.
Note: In the video, the word "men" I translated was the word "phái mạnh" in Vietnamese, meaning "the strong being". In a nutshell, men are the strong beings (phái mạnh), and women are the weak ones (phái yếu). That was true, because little do you know, in most Asian countries such as Vietnam and Japan, our ancestors, the ancients, believed that men are the ones taking care of the family's business, the breadwinners, while women handle house works like taking care of the kids, cleaning and cooking duties. This is mostly true in Japanese notion.
However, this concept has been outdated, because men are not the only ones that can be breadwinners, nor women are the ones handle house chores. We are living in the modern society where women and men can be equal. Women can work as hard as men to earn money, as well as men can do house works the same as women. Gender does not matter, just because men are strong doesn't mean women are weak. That is the gender equality!
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World War I period used to usurp suites, and there came the developing period of the "Rock & Hippy" trend, which took over suites for a while. There was a time when suit was not being appreciated, the Americans brought new fashion styles which were jeans and T-shirts, represented for the free and liberal culture, opposite to fancy and royal suites.
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Until 1970, suites were returned thanks to its reappearance, and one more time, suites are emphasized more and being recognized as the symbol, the wise choice of the elegance, and standard of men. Because suites are the elegant look of gentlemen, the perfect face of the primordial rank (?), so in whichever period, suites also need designing and tailoring carefully with the exact number of each wearer. Moreover, we should not forget the details bringing the suit to its perfection: cravat (tie), buttons and socks.
Being the symbol of perfection and elegance, any combinations of suites is a work of art, along with its own combination rules. There are 2 types of suites: the one with 2 pieces, and with 3. The layer of clothing inside is called a vest/gile. So in reality, vest's definition to most Vietnamese is wrong, because it's just a part of the outfit. In conclusion, when it comes to being a gentlemen, it's suites.
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*Back to the question in the first place~
With the important elements of a suit, you may understand it partially why most famous spy characters in the public always wear a suit, right?
Suites have a strong impact on the audiences about a charming spy gentlemen being elegant and luxurious, yet exudes power of taking over control. This is also a perfect outfit helping spies easily get on with any environment in any historical periods. Even in the most dangerous combat environment, it was still neat, and tidy of a gentlemen when doing the missions. In terms of reality, in Twilight's case, his mission is to infiltrate the elite, and help his daughter, Anya, enroll in the Eden Academy, which makes the suit a wise choice.
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With strict standards of elegance, not only the academy but the parents also, suites bring valuable advantages. Suit becomes a standard uniform for spy gentlemen in the public with the convenience, and effective benefits. Not only Twilight, but even spies like James Bond, or the Kingsman, also find suit an inseparable weapon in their mission or in diplomatic environment. Agent Galahad of Kingsman has said: "Suit is the armor of a modern gentlemen, and Kingsman are the knights of the new era".
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Not only agents in Kingsman, but other agents can also be known as the knights fighting silently for the security and peace of the country. Having been the knights, they cannot forget their shinning armor in the fight, and for the knights of the modern era, suit is that armor. However, the price of a cool suit being tailored in centimeters in the present is not cheap at all, and not everyone can afford it.
If your parents/you are rich enough, you should try a day becoming a gentleman wearing a suit, because not everyone has a chance to do so. Or the economy is average to good, you can rent or borrow one to "live virtually" on social media, being cool~cool~ Or ya can wait until ya have a wife, then automatically ya can wear it! :))
That is all, thank you for reading it! Follow the original creator of the video: Anime Rewind (Vietnamese)
Their Discord server: https://discord.gg/kzhrAspDk9
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years
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Well, now I’m obviously obliged to return here to ask for your headcanons for merlin the series 😂
absolutely I will gladly share these, I've been sitting on some of them for months :)
- Gwaine never stops picking bar fights. Never. The only difference is that now he can go to much greater lengths because no matter what, there's six others who will absolutely help him, at least the second it actually looks like he could get hurt. And god, does Arthur scold him. And god, does he not care. Like he will just. Smile and move on to the next brawl.
- Gwen is a seamstress, I think? And despite not sitting on the throne just yet for me, once she does become queen, she may abandon her old servant-y duties, but she certainly keeps sewing. Sewing for Arthur. And I am not in any way a good judge of clothing but. Those shirts and coats are the best looking in all of Camelot. Arthur may not brag about a lot but hell does he brag about Gwen's skills, and he has every right to. Even the Knights look quite jealous.
- By the way, Arthur really doesn't brag a lot. He grew up like a prince, like a royal, at court, in a huge ass castle, with servants and everything, so of course sometimes he'll be pretentious and arrogant and he won't notice at all, but he never mindfully does so, he never mindfully wants to make anyone feel bad about what they have or has to feel good about what he has himself. But. This doesn't count for one thing and one thing only and that is Gwen. Like this man will talk about her for two weeks straight if you let him, he would never talk about anything or anyone else ever if he could. And he will so definitely brag about her. He also totally tells their story wrong, if anyone asks. And then she just grins and goes like "actually sweetie if I remember right I was the one who kissed you first"
- Morgana is kind of a fashion nerd and has always been. She just loves to combine different things and wear dresses and pantsuits in unconventional ways and colours and I absolutely despise the way they completely mess up this wonderful character trait by making her wear only dresses. Like, you cannot convince me that she didn’t wear leather trousers at some point, or Arthur’s loose white shirts paired with a beautifully intricate corset. 
- Leon has canonically died like seven times in this series and I don't understand, so I will literally just say that wow does he have good luck and he uses it when playing games/doing bets with the other knights. Also he braids his hair into these little Viking braids sometimes. He has a great, wholesome sense of humour too. I love him, he's precious.
- In the episode I'm currently watching, the guys find out that there's a traitor in their ranks (actually Leon's the one who finds out, he's great, did I say that already), and Arthur begins to like, go through all the Knights and people and tries to find out which of them betrayed him. And like, despite Leon I think he goes through all of them? Maybe not Gwaine, but like, maybe, idk. Anyway the others learn about this at some point and they all make sure to get back at Arthur by pretending like they're betraying him and then literally just leading him to the basement where they all met up and created a "Fuck Arthur Pendragon" club (some of them took it a bit too literally.)
- The running gag with Merlin being at a tavern is now known and being used by everyone except for Arthur, because he's always been the one it's being used on and doesn't understand why everyone laughs (well, maybe, that it's funny that Merlin's a drunkard. but in a way he's more worried) But everyone else just knows this inside joke and the second someone dares to tell it, everyone is laughing their asses off and will not calm down for an hour.
- Who's missing? I'm missing someone. Who am I missing???
- Elyan! Yeah I got nothing on him lol.
so seems like this is it-
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emrysflower · 3 years
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merlin: how my boy crush started vs how it’s going
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theweasleysredhair · 4 years
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Tease [G.W.]
Character: George Weasley
Word Count: 4110
Requested?: Yes/No
Summary: Every time George tries to get you alone, something seems to interrupt you and he can’t seem to catch a break. Maybe he just needs to get a bit more creative, or maybe teasing you under the table is enough to get you as worked up and desperate as he is.
WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. george is being a hot cheeky bastard wanting to shag his girlfriend.
Tags: @gracemayhateyou @harrysweasleys @toranyx @theweirdsideofstuff @ickle-ronniekins @levylovegood @wand3ringr0s3 @diary-of-an-onliner
Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it
A/n: idk, george makes me feel things. enjoy and thanks for requesting nonnie! ❤️
~*~
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3
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George was frustrated. In both senses of the word. He had originally thought that inviting you to the Burrow over Christmas was a wonderful idea, and whilst he loved having you around, he felt as though he’d barely even seen you since you’d arrived. And it was beginning to drive him insane.
He loved that you got along with his family so well, that they constantly wanted to be around you but, in his eyes, he’d invited you there to be with him, and the fact you’d probably had around 10 minutes alone over the last week was starting to get to him.
It didn’t help, and he was certain you were doing this on purpose, that you kept wearing his shirts around the Burrow - something you knew turned him on - or that one day you wore a jumper that fell off one shoulder, exposing the area of skin that George wanted to kiss and bite down on. Or, worse, that one day you wore a skirt and knee high socks - Merlin, George thought he felt his heart stop that day.
He’d tried multiple times to get you alone - pulled you into empty rooms in the Burrow to kiss you, locked Fred out of their bedroom and even tried snogging you outside but it had gotten too cold and started snowing. Unfortunately, each time you were alone in a room together, you’d been interrupted fairly quickly by his family coming to ask you something or other, or in the case of locking his twin out, Fred had grabbed a broom and flew up to the window and knocked on there instead, wiggling his eyebrows and wolf whistling at the both of you as he found you underneath your boyfriend (fully clothed, much to George’s dismay).
So to say he was getting desperate would be an understatement.
And as he watched you from across the living room, sat cross legged on one of the couches as you laughed with Ginny, he began thinking of new ways to spend time with you, without the rest of his family barging in.
He thought about locking Fred out again, but this time closing the curtains and the window. He thought about the shed outside, and as much as he’d like to be in those close quarters with you, he knew it was far too cold. All he wanted was to be with you, without everyone else hanging round.
He finally saw his chance when Ginny decided to go off to talk to Hermione about some work she had for the next coming school term, leaving you in the living room with just the twins.
George seized the moment, standing up and walking over to you. He leant down to your ear, his voice low and warm breath hitting the side of your face, “My room, in two minutes.” You felt a shiver down your spine as you watched him walk off towards the stairs, eyes glued to the way his back muscles were moving in the t shirt he was wearing, but not missing the warning look he shot at Fred, who was sat in front of the fire and smirking at his younger twin.
You stood up after a minute, straightening out your sweater before following in the direction of where George had just left, rolling your eyes but laughing all the same when Fred called after you, “Not on my bed, okay?”
“That was one time!” You joked, laughing harder when you heard him spluttering out a horrified, “What?!”
Reaching the top of the stairs, you made the familiar journey to the twins’ room, where George was waiting. No sooner had you pushed the twins’ door open were you suddenly pressed against it, your boyfriend’s lips on yours, kissing you desperately, as if it were the last thing he’d ever do. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to him as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, making you moan softly as he deepened the kiss, his hands resting on the skin underneath the hem of your sweater.
His fingers ran up your side to the base of your bra, gently stroking along the lace as his eyes widened, him pulling away very slightly, both to catch his breath and ask, “You’re wearing lace for me?”
You shrugged, grinning at him, “Maybe.”
He groaned, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head, “You’re killing me, love.”
He ducked his head to press open mouthed kisses across your neck, talking between each one, “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been not being as close to you as I want to be? I’ve been going insane.”
“You think you’re the only one?”
His hands ran down your body and round to your bum, giving it a squeeze as he pushed you against the wall. As he trailed up towards your mouth to kiss you properly, he tugged gently at the hem of your sweater.
Just as you had pulled it over your head - George mesmerised by the way your lace bra accentuated your breasts - you heard Molly call up the stairs that food was ready, and for everyone to come down.
George shook his head, grabbing your waist, “I can’t wait any longer, just look what you’ve done to me, love.” He pressed himself against you, and you could feel him hard against where you wanted him, making your breath hitch.
“Let’s just not go,” he mumbled, tracing kisses across your collarbone and down to the tops of your breasts.
You let out a breathy sigh as you ran your hand through his messy hair, “We have to, your mum has made food and honestly I’d love to eat it - I’m hungry and she’s an amazing cook.”
George buried his head into your shoulder,
“I’d rather eat something else to be honest.”
“George!” You playfully swatted at his arm, before pulling away and moving around him to grab the sweater you’d dropped, putting it back on.
As you passed him again, he reached out to grab your hip, “Are you sure we have to go?” You nodded, “Yes! Everyone will be waiting for us.”
“Fine...” He agreed, albeit reluctantly, running a hand through his hair to tidy it a little as he sat on his bed. You stood near the doorway for a couple of minutes, waiting for him to stand up, however he continued to sit there, making you raise an eyebrow and turn to walk out, hoping it would prompt him to follow, “Right, come on then.”
“Give me a minute,” he replied, staring at the floor.
You turned back to him with a frown. “Why- oh!” You realised, “Want me to wait or go?”
George licked his lips, his eyes looking you up and down, “Should probably go darlin’, knowing you’re right next to me looking like you do is enough to keep me hard all night.”
Scoffing out a laugh, you looked at him sympathetically, “We’ll finish this later, I promise.”
You left him in his room, heading down the stairs to where the family usually ate meals, finding most of them already there, bar Ron and Harry, who arrived a few minutes after you, pushing and shoving each other as they laughed at something one of them had said.
You were sat at the end of the table, Fred across from you, an empty seat to your left for George. Molly rushed into the room, placing plates of food down with a wave of her wand, fussing over Harry before heading over to you, “Do you know where George is, dear?”
“I think he’s in his room, Molly. Said he’d be down soon,” you replied with a smile. She placed a plate in front of you and nodded as you thanked her, “That boy is never on time for anything I swear - he’ll be late to even your wedding, just you watch dear!”
Her comment made your cheeks warm, and you ducked your head to hide your smile just as she wandered off to grab a plate for Percy, who was sat at the other end of the table beside Arthur, deep in conversation.
“So, where is my dear younger twin?” Fred asked, shooting you a knowing smirk as he began eating the food on his plate.
“Well-“
“I’m right here,” George announced as he entered the room, finally making his appearance as he took the seat beside you.
“Nice of you to finally join us,” Fred spoke with a knowing grin shot in his twin’s direction.
“Yeah well, I had something to take care of,” George grumbled, sharing a glance with you and rolling his eyes when Fred let out a mocking laugh.
The beginning of the meal went by as normal, the family laughing and joking, you joining in. You’d just placed some more food in your mouth when you felt George’s hand on your thigh, just above your knee - the place he knew got you worked up. You glanced over at him, but his focus was on the conversation going on about a new muggle artefact Arthur had discovered at work.
Thinking it was just a coincidence, you went back to eating, however you suddenly felt his hand slide up your thigh slowly, fingertips squeezing gently, and dancing across the waistband of your trousers. Noticing the small smirk on George’s face, you shook your head a little at him, gesturing discreetly at the rest of his family, but he didn’t seem to be too concerned.
His hand moved down into your underwear, his fingers finding your clit easily - both from practice and from just knowing your body so well - and he gently began tracing circles, making your hips jolt forward and causing you to almost drop your fork.
He gave you a cheeky grin, “Everything okay there, love?” You grit your teeth as you replied, “Everything is just fine.”
His applied a little more pressure, circling faster and making you bite your lip. You swallowed a content sigh so as to not egg him on, and tried to focus on the main conversation, which had moved onto Hogwarts.
“So Y/n,” Molly began, making everyone turn to you, including George, who shot you a half smirk before picking up his pace, making you swallow harshly, “How are your lessons going?”
“They’re going quite well, Molly!” You replied, though your voice was slightly shaky, “I’m enjoying Care of Magical Creatures this year, there’s some interesting-“ you let out a half gasp as George suddenly pushed a finger into you, earning a few looks of concern.
“Are you okay, dear?” Molly asked, “Do you need me to get you anything?”
“Oh no! I’m fine, thank you! I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened there! But as I was saying, there’s some interesting creatures we’re learning about this year, so I’m really excited,” you smiled, hoping no one would be suspicious (nobody seemed to be, even Fred seemed preoccupied and wasn’t paying much attention, which you were thankful for.)
Hermione began talking about her own lessons, and you shot a warning glare over at George, who smiled innocently at you, as if he wasn’t currently fingering you under the table where his family were eating their evening meal. He added a second finger casually, bringing you closer to the edge.
He moved his fingers in and out, smirking to himself as he continuing eating his meal with one hand. He carried on for a couple of minutes and your hips began thrusting slightly towards his hand.
However, just as you clenched around him, he stopped what he was doing for a moment. You glared up at him, raising an eyebrow but he just shot you a lazy half smile, waiting for you to come back down a little before moving again, purposely teasing you.
Thankfully, the food was eaten quickly, meaning George had to stop. You were both grateful for that, and annoyed as you were now even more frustrated than before, as he hadn’t actually let you finish.
Soon after the plates were cleared, Molly ushered you all into the living room to sit down and wait for her to bring you all some hot chocolate. It was a tradition you adored usually, however since you were sat near your hot boyfriend who had now made you extremely sexually frustrated, you couldn’t wait for everyone to just go to bed.
George shared a couch with you, draping a blanket across both of your legs, and making sure you were comfy. You leant your head against his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
A few minutes later, you were all sat around the roaring fire, chatting together over your mugs of hot chocolate. You brought it up to your nose and revelled in the amazing smell, before taking your first sip. You had to admit, if there was one thing you loved about Christmas at the Weasleys, it was Molly’s hot chocolate.
You rested the mug on your knee, however nearly spilled some of your drink when you felt George’s free hand creep under the blanket and across your thigh. You tensed, still on edge from his antics at the dinner table - something that made him smile to himself, knowing you were getting just as worked up as he had been all week.
Placing a hand over his, you halted his actions, trying to push him away just a little, in order to be more decent. Undeterred, George decided to wait a couple of minutes before trying again. He placed his hand on the inside of your thigh, and then left it there, unmoving and right where you wanted him, making you shift uncomfortably.
You quickly drank your hot chocolate and placed it on the side table next to you, before looking over at George and raising an eyebrow at him. He grinned innocently just as he squeezed your inner thigh, making you press you lips together and it taking everything in you not to buck your hips against his hand.
Luckily, Hermione stood up soon after she’d finished her own drink, placing the mug on the table and stretching, “Thank you for the hot chocolate, Mrs Weasley, but I think I’m going to head up to bed. I’ve got a new book that I can’t wait to start!”
And then after Hermione, one by one, you noticed everyone bidding their goodnights and heading up the stairs and further into the burrow, until you realised it was just Molly and Arthur left. And after a while, even they retreated upstairs too - Molly ensuring you knew there was more food left in the kitchen if you wanted it - meaning you and George were finally alone.
“You tease!” You scolded, “Under the bloody table and then under a blanket when your family were literally less than a metre away from us? What were you thinking?”
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy it. It excited you, knowing they were there, didn’t it?” He said in a low tone, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You opened your mouth to reply but no words came out, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong, and he knew it.
George bit his lip and gave one last glance up the stairs before bringing you into a rough kiss, pulling you onto him so you were straddling him on the couch.
It didn’t take long for you both to be breathing heavily, hot breaths hitting your face as he licked down your jaw.
He shifted under you, rolling his hips up into you, making the both of you groan, before you had to pull away a little.
“You sure you want to do it here?” You asked as you glanced up the stairs at where his family had disappeared to moments before.
“We’ve tried everywhere else, and kept being interrupted. Here, everyone is going to sleep. It’s our best chance,” George reasoned, running a finger along the waistband of your trousers.
“What if someone needs something from down here and catches us?” You asked, though you began leaning towards him to bring him into another kiss. He smirked back at you, “Isn’t that part of the fun?”
And you hated to admit it, but he was right. Something about the risk of being caught whilst being fucked by George was definitely appealing, and you looked up at him, biting your lip as you smiled, “I suppose so.”
That was all George needed to bring you back into a hot kiss, swirling his tongue around your mouth as you ground your hips down onto him, making him groan into your mouth. His hands gripped your waist pulling you against him further as one of yours ran through his hair, the other resting on his chest.
“I’ve waited too long for this,” he murmured against your lips, taking a quick breather to grab the hem of your sweater and helping you to pull it off, throwing it on the floor and leaving you in that lacy bra that George had been picturing the entire time he was sat at the table.
You reached round to unclip it but George stopped you, “Keep the bra on... and your knickers while you’re at it, I’m just gonna pull them to one side and fuck you whilst you’re wearing them.”
You moaned at the thought, grinding down onto his hard cock again, making him let out a shuddering breath. Pulling away for a moment, you stood up to take your trousers off, George doing the same. He then pulled off his underwear, his cock springing out, long and hard as he stroked himself a couple of times before sitting back down on the couch, pulling you down onto him again.
You could feel him against the lace of your underwear, and you circled your hips, making him groan against the skin of your neck, where he was pressing wet, open mouthed kisses, occasionally biting and sucking to elicit breathy moans from you.
“Look at you being all desperate for me,” George commented, watching as you kept bucking your hips against him, needy for the friction between your legs.
He reached down into your soaked underwear for the second time that evening, teasing your clit again before bringing his fingers up to his mouth to clean them off. He felt you grinding yourself down onto him and smirked to himself before deciding to move you a little to the right so you were now straddling his thigh, “Reckon you could come just from fucking my thigh, love?”
He jolted his leg a little, the skin of his muscular thigh moving against the material of your underwear and hitting you in just the right spot, making you cry out in pleasure.
“Merlin, you look so wickedly hot right now,” George breathed out, watching as you circled your hips around his thigh, eyes shut, head falling back as gasps fell from your pretty lips. At the back of his mind, he was aware that you couldn’t be much louder if you didn’t want to be caught, but Godric, did George love the sounds you were making.
“I’m close,” you gasped as he squeezed your hips, lifting his thigh a little to add more pressure. “That’s a good girl, I’m right here,” he murmured in your ear. Just a few minutes later, you felt the familiar feeling of pleasure washing over you, leaning your head onto George’s shoulders as he pressed kisses along the side of your neck.
“You looked so pretty coming for me like that, darlin’. Did you enjoy my thigh?” He murmured, sucking on a patch of skin below your ear. You nodded feebly, still seeing stars, and George smiled against your skin. He gave you a couple of minutes to bring your heart rate back to normal, however as soon as he felt your hips moving again, he leaned back with a smug expression and bit his lip, glancing from your dazed eyes to your swollen lips, “Are you ready for more, princess?”
All you could bring yourself to do was nod, finally satisfied from all the teasing he’d done to you over the course of the evening. He kissed you gently, a difference pace from a few moments previous, before thrusting his hips up to meet yours, enjoying the moan that escaped you as he hit your sensitive clit.
You felt him move your underwear to the side, and he lifted you up a little, allowing you slowly sink down onto him, making you both groan, enjoying the feeling of him being inside you again.
“You feel so bloody good, love,” he praised as you started to move up and down on his cock, circling your hips and falling into a rhythm as you rode him, “Taking me so well. My good girl.”
“George,” you breathed out, clutching his shoulders and he grabbed your hips to guide you. His head fell back, heavy breaths leaving his lips as you continued to ride him, both of you getting close - you from all the stimulation and him from his lack of.
You continued moving on him as he pushed his hips up to meet your thrusts. He sat up a little bit, causing him to go deeper, and you had to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out.
“You’re so good to me, love. I’m getting close,” he groaned, leaning forward to press kisses to the tops of your breasts, gently biting at one in order to leave a mark.
“Georgie you feel amazing, I’m-“ you finished your sentence with a groan as you felt him twitch inside of you.
“Come for me, darlin’,” he murmured into your neck, and you let your second orgasm of the night hit you, pleasure flowing through your body as your eyes closed and head fell back, clenching around him and moaning again as you felt George finish inside of you just as you began to come down from the high.
You both stayed there for a moment, the only sounds being the both of your heavy breathing as you tried to steady your heart rate.
And that’s when you heard the sound of the steps creaking and you froze, hands gripping onto George’s shoulders as your heart beat fast for a different reason this time, praying whoever it was wouldn’t find you in the position you were in currently - namely, sat on top of your boyfriend on his couch with him still inside you. You waited with bated breath, eyes shutting in anticipated embarrassment as he pulled the blanket around you in case he had to hide you.
“Will you two be a bit quieter? Some of us are trying to sleep!”
You exhaled at the sound of Fred’s voice hissing down from the top of the stairs, thanking Merlin it wasn’t Molly.
“Please just go back to the room, Fred,” George called back to his twin through gritted teeth.
“I don’t know, I kinda want a glass of water now I’m up...” Fred replied, and you heard him step down onto the next stair tauntingly.
“Fred!” George warned. “Fine, I’m going, I’m going!”
You heard him heading back up the creaky stairs and across to where you knew his room was before opening your eyes to look up at George, letting out a small giggle as he leant his forehead against your shoulder for a moment, before pulling you off of him carefully and standing up to grab a cloth for you, unable to keep himself from laughing too.
“You know he’s never going to let us forget this right?” You grinned in the dark, before grabbing the cloth from him.
“Might as well make it a night to remember then, huh?” George grinned cheekily, leaning against the nearby wall and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes wandered down the veins in his lower arms before looking up at him, “What do you mean?”
“I’m thinking, round two, you sat on the kitchen counter, with my head between your legs. What do you say?” George smirked, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth as he looked you over.
You stood up quickly, grabbing his hand, “I say let’s go.”
“Well that didn’t take much convincing,” he followed you into the kitchen with a grin.
“Yeah well,” you replied as you reached the kitchen counter, him grabbing your waist and lifting you up onto it, standing between your legs,
“Right now I’d rather you use that tongue for something other than talking.”
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nextstopparis · 3 years
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So this is a random question and I'm not sure if you or any of your followers have an answer. There is a sometimes humorous thing about Merlin dressing Arthur. By humorous I mean when Arthur stomps around acting like he literally can't dress himself and makes Gaius help him. But to what extent does Merlin dress him? Merlin seems surprised when Arthur dresses himself but surely he's not helping him into his trousers and shirt every morning? I get armor obviously.
YEAH THE DYNAMIC IS REALLY ALL OVER THE PLACE!!!
bc you have scenes like 2.03
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where merlin only hands him his sword, doesnt even help put the red thingy on (im not sure what its called im sorry skdjncsk) or help arthur take off his coat or whatever.
and scenes like 2.10
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where arthur obviously dresses himself, and all merlin does is help him put on the red thingy
and even scenes in 4.06
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where arthur manages to put on the whole ensemble (shirt, jacket, belt) all by himself while merlin stands there contemplating how he's such a shit assassin...
and 4.07 -
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where arthur is very obviously capable of wearing his own shirt?? and again, someone (🤢agravaine🤢) helps him with the red thingy (although, in this case i feel like it's common courtesy being paid to the king or whatever)....
but then. despite those. they also give you THIS, FROM THE SAME EPISODE (4.07 deleted scene):
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WHERE HE'S RUNNING AROUND THE DAMN CASTLE IN HIS NIGHT CLOTHES BECAUSE MERLINS NOT THERE
AND THIS from EARLIER THAT SAME SEASON (4.01)
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"you're dressed?" "yes merlin, im not an idiot" I MEAN WHEN IT COMES TO PUTTING ON SHIRTS, I KNOW THAT BUT DO YOU???? also the way merlin asks, holding a specific shirt for him to wear makes it sound like??? he does help with arthur's shirts at least???
AS WELL AS THESE FROM 5.08:
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where gaius and gwen are both fulfilling merlin's role, and both of them not only help with his armour, but as shown above, also help put on his shirts (or, in gaius' case.. tries to lol)???? when just a season ago he was capable of it himself??? and im not even counting the times that merlin evidently wasnt with arthur, but arthur was dressed on his own anyway????
SO LIKE ITS ALL OVER THE PLACE ANON I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE?? i think merlin helps him with his shirts, but they never really go into trouser territory (unless you count 4.04 but that was more Comedy so. idk?) for me to give an opinion abt that part. it always kinda just looks like they all wear the same trousers for everything but. what do i know. as far as the shirts are concerned though, the thing is that idk if it has always been that way, or if merlin just gradually began expanding his help?? like first it walk helping with jackets and armour and handing arthur stuff, and turned into helping him with his shirts? and over time arthur began relying on it so much that by the end he was almost incapable of handling it himself??? idk
in this post (the tags) i sort of talked about how arthur's incompetency, specifically in the 4.07 deleted scene (look at this post) & in 5.08, might mostly stem from the fact that he's panicking over merlin's disappearance than anything else but. he still very obviously like. EXPECTS merlin to be there to help put his shirt on (esp. because in 4.01 the interaction makes it feel like arthur dressing himself is something he's doing TO SHOW that he can do it? as if maybe merlin does dress him but just this ~one time~ he's like look. i can do it too im not dumb) so.
id say merlin began helping put on his shirts during the later seasons (maybe btwn s3&s4? i dont really remember any dressing scenes in s3 but i think it might make sense bc it was btwn those seasons that arthur sort of began leading camelot as regent/took on the responsibility of king, if in every way but name, so the stress of that caused him to start depending on merlin heavily/spurred merlin on to try and do little things to make it more manageable??) and arthur just sort of. really started relying on that? lol?
IDK IM SORRY THIS IS JUST A REALLY LONG WAY OF SAYING I DONT KNOW KJDNCKSN MAYBE SOMEONE ELSE KNOWS
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picture the scene: everyone who died returns gradually. it's the knights first (in order of death, so lance would be first out of all of them), then gwen, then arthur bringing up the rear for a dramatic entrance
so when he arrives leon and merlin have helped the others adjust a little to modern life. one of the first things arthur notices is that percival is wearing sleeves and makes a remark about it taking death to get him to cover his biceps
however
percival just smirks at him
arthur goes oh fuck
percival holds out his arms to his sides and gwaine and elyan (standing on either side of him) fumble a bit around his shoulders and there's a sound that seems to arthur like snakes are hissing at him and then
whoosh
with a dramatic flourish from elyan and gwaine, percival now stands sleeveless
merlin saw a pair of these
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and decided to transform it into a shirt for percival for the sole purpose of winding arthur up (because they all knew he would be returning)
percival has not changed out of that shirt for three weeks because arthur hadn't called ahead to say when he’d be arriving
but the look on his face was absolutely worth it
this is a really random ask but i was just putting away a pair of similar zip-off trousers and immediately thought of percival fucking with arthur and that being arthur's first experience of the modern world
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 CACKLING
Literally their first interaction with Arthur is to bully him? Iconic. And with fucking zIP AWAY SLEEVES 🤣 dramatic gays do not do things by halves
If I were Arthur and the first thing I was met with was Percival wearing sleeves I would turn around and walk right back into the lake RIP to him but I'm different 🙄
Ah the modern world would give them just. so many opportunities to torment Arthur :')
This is beautiful I thank you 💕💕💕
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Text
End of His Rope
Prompts: Don't know if you're in the mood to write some Merthur but if you are, being the hurt/comfort royalty that you are, may I humbly request a little "shatter my soul" misunderstanding? If not that's fine too. - alittletoo-obsessed
So, I've been rereading some of your Merlin fics, and I was wondering if you could maybe write something where Merlin's experienced some sort of trauma before he came to Camelot, and so he's always avoiding things or reacting strangely, but Arthur assumes that's just his personality, but then something seemingly innocuous happens and he just breaks down completely in front of Arthur, & Arthur can't understand why. Cue Arthur trying to help him and Merlin eventually having to explain everything. - anon
Our BOYS i did miss them
Read on Ao3
Warnings: childhood trauma, flashbacks, drowning
Pairings: merthur, platonic or romantic don't care
Word Count: 3682
It’s always the water in his dreams.
Dark. Lapping at the stone walls. Bottomless.
The chain clanks heavily against the sides.
It’s so deep.
The rope is never long enough.
—————
Arthur has no idea why he had to get assigned the weirdest servant in Camelot.
Sure, it’s not like he asked for Merlin to be his servant—and he’ll kill you if you tell him this, but he’s not changing Merlin for the world—but come on, he could’ve at least gotten someone normal.
But no, he has to get this clumsy fool of a bumpkin that insists on tripping over his own feet, stumbling into walls, spending days at a time who knows where—he’s good friends with the tavern owner so he knows Merlin’s not there—and occasionally spouting great wisdom seemingly off the top of his head. And to top it all off, he’s endearing enough that Arthur panics whenever Merlin’s not right next to him.
It’s terribly annoying.
But that—well, most of that—he can forgive. Merlin’s a clumsy fool but he’s a good distraction. He’s a forgetful sod but he’s witty enough to make up for whatever time he’s lost with some sort of solution. He’s a disrespectful clot pole but it’s a welcome relief from all this ‘yes, sire,’ ‘no, sire,’ ‘would you prefer pork or poultry, sire?’ It gets a bit grating every now and then.
And alright, maybe Merlin’s not entirely to blame for how endearing Arthur finds him. Maybe.
But the whole thing about water Arthur will never understand.
The first time he asked Merlin to draw him a bath he thought the man was about to fall over. Merlin had gone pale and stammered out that yes, he would do that, how does he do that? He’d assumed it was because Merlin was shirking from his duties or whatnot but he hadn’t asked any of the other servants to help him, instead drawing the water for Arthur all by himself. Bemused, Arthur had told him he’s allowed to get help, only for Merlin to go on one of those impressive rants about how servants were people too, and interrupting their jobs seemed rude. Which, alright fair enough but it didn’t erase the pale and shaken expression from his face.
The first time he walked in on Merlin trying to clean the floor, he stopped and stared at the bucket sitting in the farthest corner of the room.
“You know it’s more efficient to keep the bucket with you, right?”
Merlin shrugs. “You have an issue with how I clean the floor, you are more than welcome to do it yourself.”
Arthur had scoffed and turned to leave but the tension in Merlin’s shoulders had stayed.
The first time he met Merlin in the courtyard and tries to walk past the well was the first time Merlin had strayed from his side.
“And of course, you’ll need to make sure all of my armor is…” Arthur trails off, looking around for Merlin, only to notice him a few paces away. “What the hell are you doing over there?”
“Walking.”
“Get back here,” Arthur barks, “I’m not done.”
“I can hear you perfectly fine over here.”
“Merlin—hey!”
“Sorry, sire!” A carriage blows right by them, Merlin reaching out to yank Arthur closer by his sleeve as it goes by. “Didn’t see you there!”
Arthur mutters a curse and brushes himself off.
“That’s why,” Merlin says, helping him dust himself off, “don’t want you to get run over by a wagon, now.”
Arthur cuffs him half-heartedly over the head and keeps walking.
He tries again a few times but Merlin studiously avoids the well with a grace that he scarcely applies to anything else.
It hits him when they’re out hunting once that Merlin might just hate getting wet.
So he pushes him into a pond.
Merlin splutters and curses at him and purposefully dumps all the arrows into the pond with him so they’re useless for hunting but he knows how to swim and if the way he slings his sodden neckerchief at Arthur is any indication, he’s not entirely opposed to the water.
And yes, the day was hot and maybe a water fight was the best way to cool off.
It only ever happens when they’re in Camelot. Sometimes Merlin will accidentally kick one of the buckets and it looks like he’s about to jump out of his skin. Arthur chuckles at him and calls him a delicate pansy but it’s only ever that loud noise. Not when the bells are going off—they really need to get better security for the dungeons—not when Merlin drops another tray, only the bucket.
And he still won’t go near the well.
Merlin must just not like it. That’s fine.
Doesn’t mean he’s going to get out of his chores, though.
He watches Merlin go about his day, watches him change the sheets, do up the rest of the room, get the laundry, but he never goes into the courtyard. He frowns when Merlin does ask someone else—Lilian, he thinks her name is—to go get a bucket of water for him, but there’s nothing quite like the way that Merlin lingers at the very edge of the courtyard, his gaze on a constant swivel, trying to see something that isn’t there.
It’s unnerving.
But it’s Merlin, and Merlin is strange, so Arthur just shrugs and moves on.
—————
Merlin wakes up in a cold sweat.
He wraps his arms around himself and scrambles to the floor. Dust cakes itself over his shins and forearms and he heaves a sob.
The hand on his shoulder that branded him so many years ago hums with the feeling of Arthur’s glove.
—————
“Leave it,” Arthur says, patting Merlin’s shoulder as he walks by, “we’ll get the next one.”
He steers Merlin away from the well toward the castle door, the dropped bucket rolling across the stones. Behind them, Lilian lowers another bucket into the well, the soft splash-thunk of the water and the creak of the handle. Arthur shakes his head.
“Why does it have to be so bloody hot?”
“It’s summer,” Merlin mumbles, clearly feeling the heat too by the sweat beaded on his brow, “it’s supposed to be hot.”
“Not this hot.” Arthur shakes his head, dismayed when his hair sticks to his forehead. “We should be inside.”
“You’re the one that dragged us out here, sire.”
“Enough. Come on. I’m sure there’s somewhere cooler we could be sitting.”
They make their way back into the castle, Merlin immediately going to draw the curtains to block out the hideous light of the sun as Arthur flops down onto his bed and scrubs his hands over his face.
“You’ll get your sheets all sweaty.”
“Everything in this castle is already sweaty,” Arthur mumbles, “what’s a few sheets?”
“Well, when you have to sleep on them tonight, that will be your problem.”
“Please. I’ve slept in worse.”
“Mm.” Merlin swats him with a pillow. “You’ve also complained about your room being too hot more times than I can count. Move.”
“You move,” he manages as he peels himself off the bed and onto the floor. “Why is it so hot, Merlin?”
“I told you, it’s summer.”
Arthur squints. “You’re wearing so many clothes.”
“It is polite to wear clothes, Arthur.”
“But you’re wearing a jacket and long sleeves and a scarf and long trousers! How are you not hot?”
Merlin shrugs. “I run cold.”
“C’mere then.” Arthur holds out his hand. “I’m too hot. Cool me off.”
Merlin rolls his eyes. “You’d have better luck sticking your head in a casket of mead.”
“Merlin.”
“You would,” Merlin sings, “but then you’d be even stickier than you are now.”
“Fine.” His head falls back against the bed with a thud. “Maybe I’ll just jump in water next time.”
He’s too hot to notice the way that Merlin stiffens.
—————
Merlin pants and heaves and scrabbles at the floor. It’s real, he’s really dry, it’s safe, there’s nowhere to go down.
He shivers on the cold floor and reaches for a blanket, wrapping himself in it tightly and clutching the fabric to his face. It scratches horribly and he rubs his cheek into it.
Rough is safe. Dust is safe. Warm is safe.
There’s nowhere to go.
High above Camelot, dark clouds begin to swirl in the sky, carrying with them the promise of rain.
—————
Arthur sighs as he slumps under the edge of the stable. Really, a rainstorm? Right now? The air had a weight to it, hanging over the courtyard like a dirty rag, right up until the heavens burst open and decided to pour over the city. They’d barely made it to the safety of the stable in time before it looked like the storm was doing its best to wash the courtyard clean.
“Well, there goes the plan for the rest of the day.”
Merlin huddles against the stable, shying away from the gutter. “Are we going to try and make it back inside?”
“Unless you fancy a mad dash through the storm, I’d say we’re better off waiting it out.”
Merlin glares at the water like it’s personally insulted Gaius in front of him. Arthur follows his gaze to watch one of the horses finally drag its cart under an overhanging section of roof.
“Seems everyone wants to get out of this rain.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Arthur sighs before something hits him in the forehead. He glances up.
A raindrop hits him square in the eye.
Biting back a curse, he glances around and spies a bucket.
“Aha!”
“What’re you—Arthur?”
“This should show you,” he mutters, shoving the bucket under the leak, “there. Now try it.”
He looks up to reassure Merlin that he’s fine, he just got hit in the eye with a raindrop, only to see Merlin’s face.
“…Merlin?”
Merlin’s face is ash. His mouth hangs open, his lips dry despite the rain and his lower lip starts to wobble.
“Merlin!”
And Merlin is gone, tearing through the rain like a bat out of hell. Arthur mutters another curse and races after him, barely flinching at the deluge as he tries to keep his eyes on Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, as they dart into the castle and up the stairs.
“Merlin, where are you—slow down, you’re going to—Merlin!”
Merlin trips. He falls.
Arthur reaches out and wraps an arm around Merlin’s waist, just saving him from careening down a staircase.
“Merlin, shh,” he tries, only to have to grunt and struggle to keep a hold of the man as he claws at the air in front of him, “come on—Merlin!”
His room. They need to get to his room.
“Sorry, Merlin,” he mumbles, before swinging the man up—why is he so light?—and making a break for his chambers.
The door slams shut behind him and he lets Merlin go, his chest aching as he watches him fall to the floor, scrabbling madly at the stone until his fingers start to bleed.
“Merlin,” he cries again, dropping to his knees and taking Merlin’s hands in his, “Merlin, look at me!”
His…his eyes…
Arthur has never seen Merlin look like this. He’s never seen him in so much pain.
“Merlin,” he tries, softer this time, “Merlin, it’s alright. You’re safe, I’m right here.”
Finally, finally, Merlin stills. Though still is almost worse, he looks frozen. He swallows.
“…’rthur?”
“Yes, Merlin, it’s me, I’m right here, it’s alright.” He gives Merlin’s hands a gentle squeeze. “What’s—oh!”
Merlin throws himself at him, all but knocking him over as he wraps his arms tightly around his waist. Arthur catches him with a huff, letting him bury his soaking wet face in his jerkin.
“Easy, Merlin, it’s alright,” he laughs nervously, “you’re—well, alright, you idiot, if you…if you need to…”
He says as if he’s not cuddling Merlin already.
Arthur sighs, the dampness of their clothes making it more than a little uncomfortable but not caring in the slightest when Merlin starts to sob into his shoulder.
“Hey, hey, Merlin, it’s alright, I’m right here. You’ve got me, I’ve got you, we’re not going anywhere.” He rubs Merlin’s back firmly and presses his cheek to his wet hair. “I’ve got you.”
Poor Merlin is still shaking like a leaf. Arthur frowns, glaring at the storm with the intent to stare it down until it tells him why the hell it thinks it can hurt his Merlin like this.
“The rain can’t hurt you anymore,” he growls, “we’re inside. You’re safe. Everything’s alright.”
Merlin hiccups. “We’re—it’s—over?”
“The storm isn’t quite through yet, but we’re out of the rain, yes, Merlin, you’re safe.”
“Don’t—want—fall—“
“You can’t fall here, I’ve got you, we’re on the floor.”
“Rope—too short—won’t reach all the way—hurts—“
The roaring protectiveness in his gut starts to give way to confusion, what rope? Where is Merlin trying to go?
“Calm down, Merlin,” he says instead, rubbing his back, “it’s alright, there’s no rope—“
Merlin lets out a howl.
“No, no, no! That’s not—there is a rope,” Arthur tries desperately, “and it’s long enough, we can reach, it’s alright, everyone’s safe, you’re safe, shh, shh…”
The howl buries itself in some soft part of Arthur’s chest. His hands are itching for his sword, something, anything to fight what’s causing Merlin this much pain but he can’t, there’s nothing, so he wraps his arms tighter around Merlin and glares at the storm.
After a long, long time, when their tunics have done their best to meld with their skin, Merlin stills. There’s one more soft hiccup before a cold nose presses itself to Arthur’s neck.
“…Merlin?”
“‘Rthur? Arthur?”
“It’s me, Merlin, I’m right here.”
“Arthur…” Merlin tenses and before Arthur can protest, pulls away. “Sorry.”
“Don’t,” Arthur says sharply, only for Merlin to flinch. He softens his voice and reaches for him. “Don’t pull away, don’t apologize. Are you hurt?”
Merlin lets him wrap an arm around him, thank god. “No. Not hurt.”
Arthur opens his mouth to protest but thinks better of it. “Come on, let’s get you out of these wet clothes. Get dry. Yeah?”
The word ‘dry’ seems to unlock something, Merlin’s limbs flowing looser around his body. “Yeah…”
“Dry it is then,” Arthur says quietly, “come on, there are towels for us to dry off, we can get dry, we’ve got dry clothes here.”
Concern chases its tail around Arthur’s chest as he carefully tousles Merlin’s hair dry as Merlin peels himself out of his soaked clothes. They end up in a sodden heap in the corner, ready to be taken to the laundress’s as Arthur offers Merlin one of his nightshirts.
Merlin looks like a drowned puppy, blinking warily at the proffered shirt.
“Just put it on, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, “it’s dry and warm.”
There’s the magic word again. Merlin tugs on the shirt and wraps his arms around himself. Arthur glances behind him at the bed and prods Merlin’s shoulder.
“Under the covers now,” he murmurs, smiling a little at Merlin’s confusion, “come on, I want to be warm too. And if you still run cold you’re going to need more than that to warm you up.”
Merlin lets him tug them both up to the other end of the bed, under the covers, pulling the sheets up to their chins. Arthur reaches out to take Merlin’s hands and examine them.
“You’re hurt,” he murmurs, “but it shouldn’t last very long. We can go to Gaius if you really need it.”
He glances up to see Merlin’s exhausted little face.
“Hey,” he murmurs, tugging Merlin a little closer, “are you alright?”
“Tired, now,” Merlin mumbles, “and embarrassed.”
“It’s okay.” Arthur pulls him closer. “C’mere.”
“What’re you doing?”
“Warming you up.” And hugging you because you’re still looking like a drowned puppy.
“Oh.” Merlin is all elbows and knees and wet hair, scrunched up under Arthur’s chin, but he relaxes a little. “Thanks.”
“Mm.” Arthur runs a hand over his back. “Want to talk about it?”
Merlin hums. “Not really.”
Arthur bites back a curse and takes his lip between his teeth. “Can I ask what it was that set it off? So it…doesn’t happen again?”
Something warm flares against his neck. “It’s stupid.”
“You just had a breakdown in my arms, Merlin, it’s not stupid.”
“They can both be stupid.”
“Well, they aren’t.”
“You don’t even know what it is yet.”
“It makes you upset,” Arthur says firmly, “it’s not stupid.”
Merlin is quiet for a few moments. Then: “you can ask.”
Good. “Was it the storm?”
“Not really.”
“Was it the rain?”
“Not really.”
Arthur frowns. Then what could it have been? Merlin had been glaring at the storm like he wanted it to go away.
But he was the one to suggest they make a run for it.
As a matter of fact, he’d been fine up until…
Up until Arthur had moved the bucket.
“…Merlin?”
“Yeah?”
“Was it the bucket?”
Merlin stiffens. Then he lets out a long sigh and tucks his face deeper into Arthur’s chest. “Yes.”
“…can I ask why?”
“Do you have to?”
Yes. “No, I don’t, I just…” Arthur takes a deep breath. “I don’t like seeing you like this, Merlin, it…you’re upset and I can’t help and I can’t do anything. It hurts.”
He holds Merlin a little tighter.
“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he confesses in a whisper, “I want to help.”
Merlin shudders in his arms. “Well that’s not fair,” he says hoarsely, “but…thanks.”
And the story comes spilling out of him.
There is a well on the outskirts of Ealdor. It is old, built before Merlin’s mother can remember, and it has one metal bucket on the end of a long, fraying rope. When there is a drought, the bucket has to be lowered further in order to reach the water.
One year, there was a very bad drought. The well was running dry. So the people of the village decided to build a new well closer to the river with a much longer rope. The old well was not used.
Merlin’s job used to be to fetch the water for the animals at the end of the day. So he would walk to the well. One night, he forgot that the old well wasn’t being used.
He found a pack of the village boys around the old well.
They were laughing and pointing at something inside.
Merlin wandered closer to figure out what was going on.
The bucket sat useless outside the well.
There was a boy inside the well.
Merlin couldn’t see him, it was too dark.
The splashing sounds were getting weaker.
The cries were getting quieter.
The other boys laughed at him when he threw his own bucket down and raced for the other one.
One of them grabbed his arm.
“Don’t, or we’ll throw you in too.”
Merlin had to watch.
The boys left when they couldn’t hear the cries anymore.
Merlin threw down the bucket.
The rope wasn’t long enough.
His mother found him the next morning, the metal bucket by his side long forgotten, his hands all but frozen to the old crank, still peering down into the water.
Arthur’s mouth runs dry as Merlin keeps talking. Unbidden, his arms tighten around the man mumbling into his chest.
He couldn’t have known.
He couldn’t have known.
How cruel those boys must have been, how awful it must be for Merlin to keep seeing that, over and over and over…
“I’m sorry,” he says in a strangled whisper when Merlin’s finished. “I’m so sorry.”
Merlin is quiet.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he continues, “it wasn’t, Merlin, it’s—it’s not your fault.”
“The rope wasn’t long enough,” comes the mumble, “I couldn’t save him.”
“Shh, shh, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for the cruelty of others.” Arthur holds him tighter. “I’m sorry, Merlin, you don’t have to go near the well ever again, I promise, we can get someone else to do it.”
Merlin just curls further into his chest.
“You’re safe, you’re dry, everything’s alright, you’ll be fine—“ Arthur can’t stop blabbering on, trying to reassure the poor man in his arms— “I’ve got you, you’re safe.”
Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur too and holds tight. “Don’t have to go near the well?”
“No, no, Merlin, never.”
“Don’t have to use the buckets?”
“No. Only wooden buckets and only when you need to.”
“Don’t have to be wet?”
“You’re dry, I’ll keep you dry.”
“Is there still rope?”
“The ropes are long enough, they’re always long enough.”
“Good,” Merlin mumbles, the exhaustion finally bleeding into his voice, “good…good…”
When they wake up, they’ll have to talk about what else Merlin needs, how to deal with this. Arthur will have to grit his teeth and resist the urge to storm back to Ealdor and teach those boys a lesson. Merlin will curl his fingers into Arthur’s jacket every time they walk past the well.
But for now, Merlin will drift off to sleep in Arthur’s arms, Arthur will hold him, and they’ll stay safe and dry out of the rain where they don’t need a bucket to stop any leaks.
42 notes · View notes
rosedavid · 4 years
Text
the fear of knowing
Pairings: Merlin & Gwen friendship, slight Gwen/Arthur
Canon Divergence from 4x08: Lamia
Warnings: brief descriptions of violence and execution (not graphic)
Description: Gwen discovers Merlin’s magic when they are fighting the Lamia. This leads to her having to reevaluate her views on magic and Merlin himself.
Please ignore any mistakes - I wrote this very quickly with no editing because I am lazy lol. If you enjoy this, please consider reblogging :)
...
Gwen lunges toward Lamia with a sense of courage she never knew she possessed. All she registers is Merlin being dragged away before she just acts. Although not as competent with a sword as a knight, she manages to wound Lamia, who lets out a pained shriek. It’s enough to incapacitate Lamia into letting go of Merlin. Gwen stumbles to the ground along with Merlin, who immediately places himself in front of her. Lamia only takes seconds to recover before she hovers over the two of them again, ready to strike.
Gwen can’t hear anything over the pounding of her heart. She grips Merlin’s tunic sleeve tighter, looking over to him as if for the last time. She expects to see fear and guilt etched upon his face. What she sees is gold. 
Merlin’s eyes are glowing gold. One of his hands is outstretched, mouth just about to open. Gwen gapes at him, her gaze torn between him and Lamia, wondering what will happen next.
But Gwen doesn’t have to wonder long, as suddenly a sword stabs Lamia through the back, revealing a worried Arthur. Merlin’s eyes fade back to normal, as if the golden hue was never there to begin with. Shakily, Gwen chokes out his name, then surges to greet him. She clings onto him, practically leaping into his arms. A sob forces its way out as they hug, but she refuses to let herself feel weaker than she already does. 
“You carry on, don’t worry about me.”
Merlin’s voice breaks them from each other, and Gwen is brought back to the reality of everything that just happened. Arthur heads over to help Merlin up, while Gwen hangs back, still shaking. 
After a few bickering remarks, Arthur rejoins Gwen. She wraps an arm around his middle, reveling in the comfort someone familiar brings her. Because suddenly, her whole view of Merlin has been turned upside down. Merlin, the one who Arthur beckons to follow behind them to safety, is a sorcerer. 
Everything feels too overwhelming. Lamia was harrowing enough, but to have this newfound secret suddenly revealed to her? That makes her feel all the more anxious. She sticks close to Arthur as they head back to the village. If Merlin is suspicious of Gwen, then he doesn’t let anything on. She sees Merlin rubbing at his back, as if in pain, and she swallows down the immediate need to help her friend. It’s just too much right now. Besides, Merlin appears to be doing alright, if not a bit bruised, so Gwen figures it’s okay to keep her distance for the time being. 
They return to Camelot soon after the knights are all deemed well enough to travel. Things are uncomfortable with the knights, as well, after everything that occurred, so Gwen mainly just stays to herself or with Arthur. She doesn’t know what else to do. 
When the castle finally comes into view, Gwen heaves a great sigh of relief. Maybe now everything can finally get back to normal. However, as she glances at Merlin, she realizes that nothing will never be the same again. Even as she gets back to work, she can’t stop thinking about it all. Lamia. The Knights. Merlin. 
Gwen’s had a rocky past with sorcery. Obviously, she’s grown accustomed to not having any sorcerers around because of the ban on magic in Camelot. Gwen was raised to fear sorcery, to view it as something purely evil. Still, Gwen’s father always taught them never to hate anyone, that they should always be kind and true to themselves. So, despite Uther’s views on the vileness of magic, Gwen never outwardly detested magic. In fact, for a long time, Gwen was sort of indifferent on magic. She never thought of it as some terrible thing, but she also never associated it with good. What she does associate sorcery with is fear. 
She’s always feared sorcery, whether it be because of the dangerous those with sorcery pose to the kingdom or because of the horrible things that happen when sorcery gets involved. Gwen could never stand the burnings; the smell of fiery flesh and screaming is something she’ll never forget. And then, it all became unimaginably worse when her own father was executed on the crime of sorcery, a crime he didn’t even commit. And the nightmares are horrific. She had hoped they would vanish after time, but now she knows better. Still, she wakes up some nights gasping for air as she cries, fear flooding through her veins. So yes, magic scares her. 
But when she thinks of Merlin, one of her closest friends, she can’t imagine ever being fearful of him. Besides, he just saved her life. If it wasn’t for him, for his magic, Gwen may not have made it out of there alive. She knows that Merlin would never hurt her, and she trusts him with her life. He’s always there for her, no matter how tough things may get. And Merlin has always had such a kind heart and giving personality. He makes everyone around him happier, even Arthur (though he’ll never admit it). So, even though Gwen equates sorcery with fear and death, she can’t possibly equate Merlin with anything other than goodness and light.
She feels so conflicted between her views of magic and her views of Merlin that she ends up avoiding him for a good couple of days. When Arthur asks her about it, she talks it up to everything she’s been through, which technically isn’t a lie. She hates lying to Arthur, but she can’t find it in herself to tell him the truth. Similarly, she can’t find it in herself to tell Merlin that she knows. 
And the longer Gwen thinks about it, the more she understands. As the months pass by, she observes Merlin in a different perspective, and slowly but surely it all starts to come together. 
The first thing she notices is the way Merlin tenses when Arthur, or anyone else for that matter, mentions magic. Immediately, it’s as if Merlin’s on constant guard. Gwen doesn’t know how she didn’t notice Merlin’s reactions before. His expression drops to something serious, and his eyes hold a deep worry in them, traveling far beneath the surface. You can tell he’s trying his hardest not to react, but now that Gwen knows his secret, it’s like she has another view into his behavior. She can see every nervous fidget, every hand clenching into his trousers, the strained nod he sends Arthur when Arthur declares some type of lookout or attack on a sorcerer. She may not be able to understand everything that Merlin’s feeling, but she can tell it’s eating him up inside. 
And that’s just the first of it. She also begins to notice that Merlin does a lot more work than he appears to do. In addition to being Arthur’s manservant, Gwen often finds Merlin coming back to Gaius’s worse for wear. He always brushes it off if she asks, usually claiming that “Arthur worked me too hard at training, the prat,” or “I had a run in with a ditch while collecting herbs for Gaius.” But she sees the weariness behind his smile, the complete and utter exhaustion in his gait. She knows that he’s been doing a lot more for all of them than he’s ever let on. Gwen only wonders what he’s hiding behind his mask.
Through the months, Gwen’s mood shifts from fear to anger. Anger that Merlin kept this from her. She thought they were best friends, that they told each other everything. Gwen has certainly told Merlin everything. But this part of Merlin that he’s been hiding from her makes Gwen feel like she doesn’t even know him at all. 
However, after the anger passes, Gwen starts to feel a bit guilty about it all. She’s been keeping Merlin’s magic a secret for all of a few months, and already the toll of keeping it has been weighing on her constantly. She can only imagine what Merlin’s been going through if he’s had his magic for the whole time he’s been in Camelot. But the part that makes Gwen feel the most guilty it that she never noticed. She always expressed her concern for Merlin, of course, but whenever he used a typical excuse, she assumed everything was fine. Even those times when things seemed a bit more than suspicious, Gwen never thought twice. All this time, Merlin has been guarding this secret in fear for his life, and as far as Gwen knows, he’s been dealing with it alone. 
So, as conflicted as Gwen feels about everything, she comes to realize that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Merlin is a sorcerer because Merlin is her friend. And as Merlin’s friend, Gwen can’t stand to hide from him the fact that she knows about his magic. 
They’ve interacted plenty of times since that day, but to Gwen they all felt forced, like she was pretending. She wants to feel that bond of friendship again. She cares for Merlin, as she knows he cares for her, and she wants to make everything right again. 
Of course, the day that she chooses to do it ends up being the worst possible time. 
Gwen awakens that morning with one thought on her mind: Tell Merlin. So, after eating and attending to her morning duties, she immediately heads to find Merlin. She goes to Arthur’s chambers, first, as that’s where Merlin usually is in the mornings. To her surprise, she only finds Arthur in there, eating his own breakfast. 
“Good morning, Guinevere,” Arthur greets, surprised. 
“Good morning,” Gwen greets back, smiling as he stops eating to kiss her cheek. “You haven’t seen Merlin, have you?”
Arthur rolls his eyes at this statement, already confirming the answer to her question before he even responds. “That idiot didn’t even wake me this morning! He’s just lucky that I didn’t have anything pressing to attend to. When he gets back, though, he’s definitely going to pay with some time in the stocks.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Gwen asks, knowing that Arthur doesn’t truly mean his threats. “I’m sure he’s just busy with chores for Gaius. Let me know if you see him, though. I need to talk with him about something.”
“Or at the tavern,” Arthur adds under his breath, earning a stern glance from Gwen. He eases up. “Fine, I’ll let you know. But if you find him, you let him know that I’m this close to firing him!”
Gwen smiles. “Of course. I’ll see you later, Arthur.”
With one last kiss goodbye, Gwen leaves Arthur’s chambers in search of Merlin yet again. She heads down to Gaius’s next, hoping that he truly is there helping out the Physician. When she arrives, though, she only sees Gaius searching through some potions. 
“Ah, hello Gwen. What can I do for you?” Gaius asks. 
“I’m afraid I’m just searching for Merlin. You haven’t seen him, have you?”
Gaius raises an eyebrow. “No, I haven’t. He wasn’t here when I got up, so I just figured he was with Arthur. Is he not?”
“Arthur hasn’t seen him. Gave me quite the earful about it.”
A worried expression appears on Gaius’s face, and Gwen has a feeling that it’s from more than just him wondering where his missing ward may have gone. She hesitates before asking the next question.
“Gaius....could his disappearance have something to do with his....abilities?” Gwen asks gently, biting her lip. 
Gaius startles a bit, staring at her openly before putting a blank expression back on. “I can’t say I know what you’re talking about.”
“Please, Gaius, I’m really worried about Merlin. I know about everything--the magic. I found out after Lamia, and I’ve been keeping it a secret from him that I know, but now I feel like I need to tell him, but he’s missing and I’m worried that it’s something serious--”
Gaius places a hand on her arm. “Calm down, Guinevere. I have to say, I’m surprised that you know, but Merlin never has been the most careful with his magic.”
“So do you think that’s why he’s gone? Is it something to do with him protecting us again?”
Gaius sighs, rubbing his brow. “I can’t say for certain, but usually that’s what his disappearances end up being about. Usually, he tells me what’s going on before wandering off, at least.”
“He could be in danger,” Gwen realizes. “I have to go find him.”
“You must stay here, Gwen, where it is safe. I don’t know what kind of trouble my boy has gotten himself into now, but I’m certain he wouldn’t want you to risk your life on top of that. He comes out of these things.”
“But how does he come out of them?! Maybe he survives, but at what cost? He’s throwing himself at danger for our expense! I have to help him.”
Gaius relents. “I understand, but please be careful. Who knows what Merlin is up to this time. I would advise you to take a knight, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t listen.”
Gwen shakes her head. “I can’t risk them finding out about Merlin. I might not be completely comfortable with the idea of his magic yet, but I do know that Merlin is my friend, and I will not betray him. Now, do you have any idea of where I might start looking?”
Gaius thinks to himself for a moment before remembering, “Merlin did say something last night about going to the forest for more herbs. I didn’t think anything of it, after all we are running quite low on some items. We typically gather herbs down by the creek.”
“The forest creek. I’ll start there, then. Thank you, Gaius.”
“Thank you, Gwen, for being such a loyal friend to Merlin.”
Gwen smiles, nodding her farewell to the Physician. She only hopes that her loyalty proves true enough that she can find Merlin. 
...
The forest has a strange air to it. The lack of any wind makes the trees stand unnaturally still and silent. Despite the bright shining sun that morning, there’s a dark mood within the forest as she wanders through it. In one hand, she holds a sword, the same one she wounded Lamia with months ago. It seems silly, but the sword reminds her of her bravery, and it gives her strength. 
As she continues on her trek through the forest, worried thoughts play through her head about what condition she might find Merlin in. Gwen doesn’t know what she would do if she lost her closest friend.
Gwen reaches the creek bed, but Merlin is no where to be found. She isn’t surprised, as she figured that Merlin wouldn’t be out for so long merely collecting herbs. Gwen continues searching as the day wears on, only stopping to drink and eat, replenishing her energy. 
Gwen walks a long distance in search of Merlin, though she never strays into unfamiliar parts of the forest in fear that she won’t find her way back. Her feet ache horribly, and her body is weak, but she refuses to give up before nightfall. The sun rises and sets, and soon Gwen is left searching in the near dark with only the stars to guide her. She’s about ready to call it quits, as she can’t search for Merlin properly if she gets incapacitated herself, when she suddenly hears a deep, loud noise in the distance.
She chases after the noise, despite not knowing what the noise could possibly be. The noise sounds again, only softer, and Gwen continues to trace it as best she can in the dark. Brush scrapes at her hands as she hurries through the foliage, following her only lead she’s had all day. 
Finally, panting in exertion, Gwen stumbles into a clearing. Although it is dark, she can make out a familiar form kneeling on the ground next to something. Gwen shudders in relief and sprints over to him. 
“Merlin!” she calls out, hitching up her dress as she goes. The figure startles, turning toward the noise. As she gets closer, he comes into better view. 
“Gwen?!” Merlin asks in confusion, standing up to greet her. 
Gwen smacks into him, clinging on tightly to his form. He winces, but clings back to her just as tightly. An odd chirping noise interrupts their reunion. Gwen pulls away, only to find what looks like a tiny baby dragon at their feet, white as snow, and a cracked egg. She gasps in surprise. 
“I-I can explain,” Merlin stutters, grappling for some sort of excuse. Meanwhile, Gwen kneels next to the creature, cooing at it. The dragon snuffles, scooting closer to her in caution. Gwen offers a hand, allowing the dragon to come to her. It stretches out to sniff at her, obviously deeming her acceptable as he comes closer to nudge into her hand with another adorable chirp. Gwen giggles, stroking the strange feeling skin with her palm as the dragon continues to nuzzle her. 
“Adorable. What’s its name?” Gwen wonders idly as she scratches at the dragon’s neck. 
“Aithusa, her name is Aithusa,” Merlin replies, still shocked at everything that’s happening around him. “Gwen--why are you here?”
Gwen stops petting Aithusa, who continues to explore the world around her. She stands again, facing Merlin. “I was worried about you, of course! No one knew where you were, Merlin. You could have been dead!”
“Well, I’m obviously alive,” Merlin jokes. Gwen smacks his arm. 
“That’s not funny, Merlin!”
“I’m sorry, really.” He pauses, in thought. “...You don’t seem very surprised by the dragon.”
“Oh, I am a bit. I didn’t expect you to have hatched a dragon egg, but I’m not surprised that you’re getting into something magic related. That’s actually what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
Merlin plays dumb. “W-what? What are you talking about?”
“Do not think me stupid, Merlin. I have known about your magic for a while now, since the Lamia incident. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I was trying to wrap my head around everything.”
Merlin gapes at her, face paler than normal. His fingers twitch, and he looks around, as if ready to bolt from her. She takes a step forward, ignoring his flinch, and brings him into another hug. He hesitates before cautiously hugging back. 
“So, you don’t hate me?” Merlin wonders, still on edge. 
Gwen chuckles. “I don’t hate you, Merlin. I don’t think I could ever hate you. I’ll admit, I was confused and hurt at first, because I’ve been taught to fear magic my entire life. I never would have expected you to be a sorcerer. But then, it all began to make sense. You’ve been protecting us all this entire time.”
She feels the heat of Merlin’s blush against her cheek. “It’s my duty to protect my friends and Camelot.”
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest with you about knowing.”
Merlin pulls away this time, looking her in the eye. “You’re sorry?! I’m sorry, Gwen. You’re my best friend. I should have been honest with you about my magic from the beginning, but I was scared.”
“You’re my best friend too, Merlin. And you don’t need to be scared any longer, not around me.”
Merlin smiles, appearing lighter than before. The feeling of Aithusa pawing at her leg gently interrupts the moment. Gwen looks down, unable to do anything but smile at the baby dragon. 
“Don’t worry, little one. We haven’t forgotten about you,” Gwen coos, reaching down to pick her up. Aithusa trills happily at the attention. “Speaking of which, what are we going to do about her?”
Merlin scratches his head. “I hadn’t really thought any further ahead.”
Gwen rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Honestly, you men are all the same sometimes. It’s a good thing I’m here to help now. What if we find her a nice cave to reside in where no one will discover her?”
“That won’t work, at least not now. She’s a baby, she needs someone to care for her constantly. I thought Kilgharrah would naturally do that, but I guess I should do it myself.”
“Kilgharrah?” Gwen questions, then backtracks. “Not now, later. You do still have a lot to explain to me, Merlin. Don’t think you’re getting off the hook quite so easily.”
Merlin laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to bring her to Camelot for now. Only temporarily though! Maybe you can disguise her.”
“Disguise her? How?”
Gwen stares at him. “Magic?”
“Oh, oh yeah! Maybe. I’d have to consult some of my books, though. Maybe she could be disguised as a large bird, like an owl.”
“We’ll figure out the details on our way back to Camelot. Also, just so you know, Arthur is probably planning your punishment as we speak.”
Merlin groans. “Of course. That prat. You couldn’t convince him otherwise?”
“I tried! But you know Arthur. Besides, I do think you deserve a bit of reprimand after leaving to hatch a dragon egg! You could have been seriously hurt, Merlin.”
“I know, but I’m alright, I promise.” As if to confirm this, Aithusa hops from Gwen’s arms over to Merlin’s shoulder, sniffing him. Merlin chuckles, sweeping a hand over her flank. She happily chirps and curls around his shoulders, fitting perfectly. 
“You’re still going to get checked out by Gaius when we get back.”
“Fine, if that will convince you.”
Gwen glances over at Merlin, knowing now that she’s finally seeing him for who he really is. “I’m glad I know, Merlin.”
“I’m glad you know, too.”
118 notes · View notes
supercalvin · 4 years
Note
I have spent my day feeling sorry for myself with flu and reading your ficlets has made my day, thank you so much! I've loved your writing for so long and just want to say thank you for writing!! 💜 If you ever have the time and you'd want to, I have a prompt (I don't really know how to do this). Arthur is already king and it's the night before Merlin is also crowned. Just like a quiet love filled moment were Arthur quietly crowns Merlin just for the two of them, before the big thing.
YOU KNOW I’M OBSESSED WITH THAT GENTLE SOFT LOVE
(Also, I’m very sorry you aren’t feeling well. Hope you feel better soon! And there is no wrong way to do this, just message me like three words and I’d do it lol)
Prompts + Ficlets
***
Arthur had been wearing a crown, metaphorically, since the day he was born. It was a weight he had been trained to carry it. That didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. Merlin always said it was more difficult for him than other Kings because he cared with his whole heart.
Over the years, they both had been through a great deal to say the least.
Arthur will never forget the night before his own coronation. His father had just died, Morgana had betrayed them long ago, and Arthur had let Gwen go because he knew that she had always loved Lancelot more than him. Arthur had never felt more alone than that night.
Then Merlin had entered his chambers, and Arthur had felt overwhelming relief for all of a few seconds, before he saw Merlin’s expression.
He had looked as if he might faint or vomit or perhaps run. But he had stood before Arthur, despite all this.
“I promised myself I would do this,” Merlin had said, voice shaking. “Even if it might be the worst night to do so.”
Arthur will admit, he often let his emotions get the best of him. He would also be the first one to point out that he had been under a lot of stress, that night in particular.
When Merlin had admitted to sorcery, Arthur had thought he had been admitting to betrayal. The words had always been synonymous to Arthur. His first reaction had been denial, unable to understand that Merlin of all people would betray him. Then he watched Merlin sob, his cheeks wet but his eyes firm on Arthur, as he swore to protect him. None of it made sense and Arthur was already too overwhelmed to handle any of it. He told Merlin to leave, too exhausted to yell or rage like he wanted to. The thought to arrest Merlin had never crossed his mind. Even in his worst moments, Arthur could never hurt Merlin.
The next morning Merlin arrived to work as if nothing had happened. He dressed Arthur for the coronation silently, deep purple circles under his eyes.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you still acting like my friend?”
Merlin had looked up at Arthur, his expression showing a deep sadness that Arthur had only ever glimpsed before. Merlin usually hid it well, and it was like a punch to the gut to see it there so openly.
“Because I am your friend. And I will be happy to serve you, Arthur. Until the day I die.”
The words echoed in Arthur’s mind as he walked down the aisle and as he knelt to be crowned. When he turned to face his subjects, newly crowned King, Merlin was standing in the front row. He looked straight at Arthur as he shouted, “Long Live the King.”
It had taken them months to understand each other again. Followed by even more months of rekindling their friendship. It had taken them over a year, after a few false starts, to fall into each other’s arms.
Arthur remembered kissing Merlin for the first time and thinking that it was too much. The feeling in his chest would explode and he would never be able to control such a wild thing. But then Merlin had pulled back, giving him a smile and letting a tear slip from his eye. As Arthur wiped the tear away, he remembered that they had been through so much together and that he would do it all again just for Merlin.
The following year the kingdom saw two major changes. The first being the return of magic to Camelot. The second being the coronation of the Court Sorcerer. For months, Arthur had been working on lifting the ban on magic. There was an alliance with the druids, treaties to be signed with neighboring kingdoms, and new laws to be enforced. Instating a Court Sorcerer was essential to not only solidifying the return of magic but also reassuring Camelot’s people that King Arthur trusted sorcery.
Crowning Merlin as his Prince Consort and instating him as his Court Sorcerer was as much a diplomatic arrangement as it was a personal one. Tomorrow, a crown would be placed on Merlin’s brow, and many things would change in their lives. But for now, they had only themselves.
Arthur was dressed in his white tunic and sleep trousers, looking over some reports at his desk. His feet were bare, and his hair was still a little damp from his bath earlier that evening. Behind him, Merlin was sitting at the open window in an old faded red tunic that had once been Arthur’s, looking out at the stars.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Arthur set down his quill, corking the ink so it wouldn’t spill.
“As prepared as I can be,” Merlin sighed.
Arthur stood to lean behind Merlin, dipping his hand over Merlin’s chest so it rested against his heart. “Are you ready to wear a crown?”
“As long as you don’t make me wear it often,” Merlin teased, turning his head to press a kiss to Arthur’s forearm.
Arthur laughed, but patted Merlin’s heart as he said, “No, that’s not what I meant.”
Silently, Arthur pulled away, turning to the cabinet across his chambers where he pulled out the crown that Merlin would be coronated with tomorrow. It was the circlet of a Crowned Prince, the same that Arthur had worn for many years.
Arthur could tell that Merlin was watching him closely as he approached him with the crown.
Merlin, with more grace than he usually displayed, slipped from the windowsill and knelt in front of Arthur.
In all the years they had known each other, Merlin had never knelt for Arthur. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He knew that tomorrow Merlin would kneel to be crowned, and that it was a sign of trust and respect. But that was not the point Arthur was trying to make at the moment.
So, he knelt in front of Merlin so that they were both on their knees. Here, they were equals in all things. From this angle, Merlin was framed by the window, the clusters of stars and streaks of shooting stars framing him perfectly. He lifted Merlin’s chin, so they were eye to eye.
“Tomorrow I act as King. Tonight, I act as a man,” Arthur said earnestly, “Merlin, you are the person I trust the most in this world. I will love you forever.” With reverent hands, Arthur placed the crown on Merlin’s brow, softly tucking Merlin’s hair so that it settled comfortably.
Merlin leaned forward and awarded Arthur with a soft kiss, his hands coming to gently cradle Arthur’s head.
Arthur pressed a kiss below the crown, right at Merlin’s temple.
***
Prompts + Ficlets
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Day 1: Ladies First
Okay, so this is actually the first piece of Merlin based writing I’ve ever posted anywhere and technically (in my time zone) I’m a couple hours late, but this is my day 1 submission for Camelove 2021! I hope that whoever reads this enjoys it - it was originally gonna be about 1000 words but it ended up being about 3500 😅 Here it is!
Pairing: OC/Morgana, with Arwen and Mercelot
Modern AU, fake dating AU
Trigger warnings: forced relationship, arranged marriage (attempted), violence, abuse (mild), homophobia
“Wylla!” someone called after her, and she turned to see Morgana running towards her.
“Morgana,” she greeted as the girl came to a halt in front of her, “are you okay?”
“I really need a favour and I didn’t know who else to ask, can we talk somewhere?” Morgana asked tentatively, and Wylla nodded, dragging her into the currently deserted school theatre, “Brilliant, okay… This is gonna be really weird and it’s okay if you say no – really, it is, I jus-”
“Morgana!” Wylla exclaimed, letting out a short laugh, “Calm down, what do you need?”
“Well, you’re friends with Arthur, he’s told you what my step-father is like?” Wylla nodded for Morgana to continue, “He’s hosting a party this week for investors and he’s trying to set me up with Will Sarrum; he’s the heir to Amata Motors, my step-father wants me to marry him for when he takes over the company, to make sure they continue to use Pendragon Financing.”
“Okay, that’s seriously messed up, but why do you need my help? You need someone from the law a-level classes, not drama, I can’t help you get out of this.”
“But you can,” Morgana was grinning, despite the clear panic flashing in her eyes, “if I were to be dating someone else, he’d struggle to get me to do it. And he’d struggle even more if I were to be dating a girl.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Wylla laughed.
“Yes. You don’t have to, but I think that Sarrum would be put off dating me if he knew I was dating a girl – his entire family are homophobic bigots.”
“Does Uther know that you’re into girls?”
“I’ve told him, but he doesn’t believe me,” Morgana muttered, and Wylla sighed.
“So, you want me to go to this party with you and pretend to be your girlfriend to a) prove to your dad that you’re a lesbian and b) prevent an arranged marriage that your father wants for a business alliance?”
“That’s pretty much the gist of it, yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said, and Morgana’s eyes widened, “you need this.”
“Oh my god, thank you!” Morgana exclaimed, hugging her tightly, “I owe you so bad for this, how can I make it up to you?”
“Dinner and a movie?” Wylla suggested, “Imagine Uther’s face when you tell him.”
“You are amazing,” Morgana laughed and Wylla joined in, “right, okay. The party is on Saturday, formal dress – I’ll help you decide what to wear – and Geoffrey will pick you up at 4pm. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yeah, of course, and I can’t wait to see Arthur’s face when I show up as your date,” the girls giggled a little and Wylla leaned against the stage, “so, are we keeping up the pretence of this relationship within school? Or just at the party?”
“I think it might be a good idea if we make it look like we’re dating for the next few days within school, otherwise Sarrum and some of our other classmates who will be at the party could suspect that it’s fake. Unless there are people you don’t want to think that you’re dating me?”
“That’s not a problem, Morgana, don’t worry,” she looked up at the clock and groaned, “right, when’s your lunch break? There’s gonna be a class in here for a couple hours but I’m done for the day after that.”
“I’ve got history for two hours so I can meet you here afterwards?” she suggested, and Wylla nodded as her peers started to enter the room, “I’ll see you then,” Morgana pressed a cheek before leaving, and Wylla couldn’t help but blush as the other students looked towards Morgana. To be fair, she was staring too, trying to wrap her head around what she’s just agreed to.
“Was that Morgana?” a voice whispered behind her, breaking her trance.
“Oh, yeah,” Wylla let out a nervous laugh as she turned towards Merlin, “she just popped in to see me before going to her lesson.”
“And since when were you close enough with Morgana for her to think of doing that?” he questioned, and she blushed.
“Uh, since we started dating,” she lied, and his eyes widened, “apparently her step-father is hosting a party on Saturday and she wanted to invite me.”
“Oh yeah, Gwen told me that Arthur’s taking her, to give him a chance to avoid some of the other people who’ll be at the party – all the posh and privileged students who think they’re above us. You do realise that most of Uther’s ‘friends’ are homophobic, right?”
“Why do you think I’m going? Morgana already told Uther, and word is bound to spread about our relationship, I don’t want her to be alone with them for that long,” Wylla argued, and Merlin smiled.
“How long has this been going on?” he asked as they sat down on the edge of the stage, waiting for their teacher to arrive.
“Not long, we’ve kept it a secret till now but we thought it was about time people knew. I’m sorry, I would’ve told you, but-”
“I get it, you wanted to respect her privacy,” Merlin finished for her.
“Yeah. That, and just remember that you didn’t tell me that you were dating Lancelot until you’d dragged me along to three of his and Arthur’s football games.”
“Okay, point proven,” he laughed as their teacher entered the theatre to start the lesson.
The lesson dragged on for Wylla, who was not only eager to see Morgana but also had to endure stares from her classmates because of her new ‘girlfriend’. The whole idea kept going around in her mind – she’d never thought of Morgana in a romantic way before, and yet she couldn’t get the raven-haired girl out of her mind – even when they were meant to be memorising their monologues, her eyes trained on the page, Morgana was the only thing she could think about. She was only woken from her daze when someone clicked in front of her face, “Seriously, Wylla, everyone’s already gone,” Merlin laughed, and she groaned before resting her head in her hands, “how were you that distracted?” she didn’t answer, but she looked up from the table when there was a knock on the theatre’s door which they saw Morgana leaning against, “ah, got it.” Wylla blushed and Merlin grabbed his bag from under the stage.
“See you tomorrow Merlin!” Wylla called as he left and Morgana walked towards her.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and Wylla let out a nervous laugh.
“Yeah, just thinking. Apparently I managed to zone out for most of the lesson.”
“Oh, are you tired? Do you want me to go and get you a coffee or something?” Morgana offered, but Wylla shook her head.
“I’m okay, I was just thinking about us – that is, what we’re going to tell people about us. Merlin asked and I just said that it hadn’t been long, but more people are gonna ask us and we need to be on the same page about this.”
The two girls chatted about what lies to tell and just sat enjoying each other’s company until someone walked into the theatre.
“Morgana!” Arthur called from the door, startling both of them, “What are you doing in here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you set foot in the theatre, I thought Merlin was joking when he said you were here.”
“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to be paying attention to my whereabouts at all times, Arthur,” Morgana rolled her eyes and subtly reached for Wylla’s hand, “I was just here chatting with Wylla, what do you want?”
“Geoffrey is waiting for us outside, come on,” he beckoned, and Morgana sighed.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, planting a long, soft kiss on Wylla’s cheek before winking and following Arthur out.
-
A couple days had passed and Wylla still hadn’t decided what to wear so she dragged Merlin and Gwen round to her house in the afternoon to help her decide, “Gwen, what are you going to wear?” she asked as she frantically looked through her wardrobe.
“I don’t know, I’ll probably just decide on the day or the night before,” Gwen admitted, and Wylla groaned, “why are you so worried about this?”
“Because Morgana is gonna look like, well, Morgana and I don’t want to look totally disappointing. We’re going to a party with some of the biggest names in business and the richest kids in our college – they’re all going to hate me for being there because I’m not rich and I don’t want to make Morgana look bad.”
“You won’t be the only person there that isn’t rich,” Gwen reminded her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder
“But at least you and Arthur are a heterosexual couple, most of Uther’s friends are homophobic bigots. They won’t be focused on you and Arthur when there’s me and Morgana to gossip about,” she sighed, running her hands through her hair.
“How about some kind of suit?” Merlin suggested, walking over to grab a red floral blazer out of her wardrobe, “what’s Morgana wearing?”
“Uh, dark green. She sent me a picture, hold on,” Wylla grabbed her phone out of her pocket and scrolled until the found the picture before passing it to Merlin.
“Okay, yeah, you’re definitely wearing that jacket,” Gwen said, excitement lacing her voice.
“I have matching trousers,” Wylla added and Gwen practically screamed, “are you trying to deafen us?”
“Sorry, sorry. Merlin, find some shoes that could go with the suit,” Gwen reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a plain white shirt before shoving it all into Wylla’s hands, “shoo, go put it on. Oh, make sure it’s inside out!” Gwen grinned as she pushed her friend into the bathroom; Wylla emerged a couple minutes later and Gwen immediately rushed over with a bunch of pins and started tapering the suit.
“What are you doing?” Wylla asked as Gwen busied herself putting pins in the suit.
“You called me to help you choose and outfit and I do textiles – I’m tailoring your suit dummie. You want to look good in front of all of the rich people? This is how you do it. You make the, what, fifty pound suit look like it cost a couple hundred, because it only fits you, not anyone who wears that size.”
“Have I ever told you how amazing you are Gwen?” Wylla laughed, and her friend smirked.
“Now would be a good time.”
“Uh, Wyl, you literally have no shoes that you can wear with this suit,” Merlin added.
“What about my black converse?” Wylla suggested.
“Let me rephrase: you have no shoes that you can wear to this event if you don’t want to look like a basic lesbian hipster,” he said, and both girls laughed, “right, what size are you?”
“Six, why?”
“I’ll be back,” was all he said before walking out, and Wylla saw him get in his car to drive off.
Merlin returned about an hour later with three pairs of heels and forced her to try each of them on, “Can we please go with the short heels? I’m gonna be shorter than Morgana anyway and I don’t wanna kill my feet if I have to stand up for hours.”
“Agreed,” Gwen chipped in, “right, go take off the suit, I’ll give it to you Friday.”
-
Days passed and finally the Pendragons’ chauffeur was driving Wylla to the party – when she arrived it was in front of huge mansion and it was Arthur who opened the car door for her, “Hey Arthur,” she greeted, and they started walking towards the front steps.
“Wylla, are you sure you’re prepared for this?” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder as the got to the front door, “The rich kids at school will be worse here, and their parents will be ten times worse than that. Geoffrey hasn’t left yet, there’s still time to go home.”
“I promised Morgana that I’d be here, I’m not backing out now,” she said, meeting his gaze as he opened the doors into the hall. Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been quite as extravagant as what she could see in front of her. Even the entrance hall was bigger than her entire house, and decorated with marble and what was probably solid gold. Everyone there was staring at her, and she scanned the faces until she saw who she was looking for – the raven-haired girl in the emerald green dress. Wylla bid farewell to Arthur before walking over to where Morgana stood, eyes a little wider than usual, or was that just the makeup?
“Wow,” was all Morgana said, and Wylla grinned as she pressed a kiss to her cheek, “you-you look amazing.”
“I have Gwen to thank for all of it, thank god she knows how to tailor,” Wylla laughed nervously, looking around at the still staring faces, “I… I may be dressed up but I still feel like I don’t belong here.”
“You do. You belong here, with me,” Morgana assured her, taking her hand, “you don’t have to stay long. I just need you here long enough to be able to deny the arrangement from my father,” they stayed in the entrance hall and made small talk with whoever walked past, both of them still hand in hand; Wylla assumed that Morgana was just doing it for appearances, but to her it was comforting – an anchor in an unfamiliar environment, “do you want to go up to my room for a bit? Get away from all of these people?”
“Yes, absolutely,” Wylla breathed, still gripping Morgana’s hand as she led her up the stairs and into smaller, brighter room. She ran her hands through her hair as Morgana sat down on her bed, “how do you deal with these parties as often as you do?”
“You get used to it, I guess. I’ve been going to these parties for almost a decade now, but I still hate it.”
“People will notice that we’ve gone upstairs, how long do you think there is until word gets to Uther?” Wylla asked as she sat down next to Morgana.
“Not long, and we’re gonna have to keep up the lie… But I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with…”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we should be kissing when they walk in,” Morgana said sheepishly, and Wylla’s heart started beating faster, “my father will undoubtedly have Mr Sarrum with him, it’d help get the point across.”
“Okay,” Wylla agreed, probably quicker than she should’ve. She was about to say something else when she heard footsteps getting closer to the room; without a second thought, Wylla cupped Morgana’s face in her hands and kissed her. Morgana let out a small noise of surprise but soon melted into the kiss, pulling Wylla closer by her waist. It took more than a few moments for them to realise the door hadn’t opened and stop kissing, but their foreheads still rested together, “okay, I guess I have to say something now.”
“Say what?” Morgana asked, breathing heavily.
“I like you Morgana, I really like you, and not just as a friend. I-I don’t think I realised it before, but this whole fake girlfriend thing brought it to the surface. I just… I want to be honest with you,” Wylla had closed her eyes as she spoke, and when she finally opened them, she saw Morgana grinning with tears in her eyes, “are you okay?”
“There’s a reason I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend, Wylla.”
“Because I’m a drama student and I’m literally doing a whole course on pretending to be something?”
“Because I think you’re really sweet, and funny, and kind… and you’re gorgeous – even more so in this suit, you’re killing my Wyl,” Morgana laughed nervously, and Wylla stroked a thumb across her cheek, “I really like you too. I asked you to be my fake girlfriend because I really want you to be my real girlfriend.”
“Are you seriously asking me out?”
“Well, if I remember correctly, we already have dinner and a movie planned, so the date is sorted. I just have to ask the question…”
“Then ask it.”
“Will you be my girlfriend? My actual girlfriend?”
“Take a wild guess, Pendragon,” Wylla grinned as she pressed her lips against Morgana’s, kissing her passionately. And then the door opened.
“Morgana!” Uther gasped loudly, the sudden noise breaking the couple apart, “What is going on here?”
“Father…” Morgana started, standing from the bed and taking a step towards Uther and the man Wylla assumed to be Mr Sarrum, “this is my girlfriend, Wylla Lionel.”
“I thought we agreed that you were going to date Will Sarrum,” Uther argued through gritted teeth, “he’s a nice young man-”
“Exactly!” Morgana exclaimed, “Young man. I told you already, I don’t like men.”
“It’s just a phase, Morgana,” Uther sighed, and Wylla tensed, clenching her fists and moving to stand beside Morgana, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.
“It isn’t a phase, Mr Pendragon,” she said, “my father thought the same, he left us the day my mother decided to fight his idea of sending me to therapy to try and change what gender I love. I hate to break it to you, trying to prevent Morgana from being herself will just distance you from her, and forcing her into a relationship with a man to serve your business goals will make it worse. I love your daughter, Mr Pendragon, and nothing-” Wylla was cut off when the back of Uther’s hand made contact with her face and he grabbed the corner of her jacket.
“Get out of my house, now!” he shouted, and Wylla threw a terrified glance at a crying Morgana as someone grabbed her arm and dragged her from the room. She tried to fight it but it was pointless, she was dragged out of the house and thrown to the ground outside the house. Wylla was crouched there for a few moments, gathering her thoughts as tears fell, before she picked up her phone and dialled the first number she thought of.
“Wylla?” Merlin answered, “Aren’t you meant to be at the party?”
“Ca-can you come and pick me up, please?” she choked out, “I’m still at the house, I don’t know how to get home.”
“I’ll be there in 15, hang in there Wyl,” he said before hanging up, and he was true to his word – just shy of 15 minutes later, Merlin’s car parked up outside the gates. He rushed over to her and helped her get in the car, driving to the nearby park, “come on, you need some air,” he walked around to help her out, and they started walking through the park together, hand in hand, “do you want to talk about what happened?”
“Uther,” she muttered, “he wants Morgana to date, well, marry Will Sarrum.”
“The snobby prick from Arthur’s business class?”
“The very same – Amata Motors uses Pendragon Financing to manage their accounts, Uther wants them to be together to make sure that continues when Will takes over the business. But, of course, Morgana isn’t into guys at all so she asked me to pretend to be her girlfriend to go against Uther.”
“Wait, you’re not actually dating?” Merlin questioned, and Wylla sighed.
“Let me give you the full story first,” she said, and he nodded for her to continue as they sat down on one of the benches, “I agreed, of course, because just the idea of it was horrible. But, in the days approaching the party, I realised that I actually really like Morgana. I confessed to her, and she said that the reason she asked me to do it was because she liked me too. We were kissing when Uther walked in with Will’s father, and he got really angry. I tried to stand up for her, but he hit me and threw me out of the house. And now, I-I don’t know what he’s going to do to Morgana for not obeying him,” Wylla’s voice broke as she cried, and Merlin hugged her tightly.
“Morgana is strong, she’s really strong, I’m sure she’ll be okay,” he assured her, and then there was a shout from across the park.
“Wylla!” it was Morgana, running towards them, so Wylla got up to meet her halfway.
“Morgana,” she sighed, relieved as she embraced her girlfriend, “you’re okay. Wait,” she pulled away from the hug and held Morgana’s face in her hands, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Morgana assured her, before wincing away as Wylla touched a rapidly forming bruise on her jaw.
“He hurt you,” Wylla cried, “I’m sorry, I should’ve fought back harder, I-”
“It’s okay. We argued for a while and he hit me, but then he threw me out.”
“Oh god…”
“No, this is good,” Morgana assured her, wiping away the tears that were spilling down Wylla’s cheeks, “I have the money I inherited when my real father died, I’m finally free from Uther, and now we can be together,” Wylla let out a relieved laugh and pressed her lips against Morgana’s, tears streaming down her cheeks as they kissed. But they were happy tears, Morgana was safe and they were together – and that’s all she needed.
I really hope I got all of the warnings that I may have needed but feel free to let me know if there’s anything I missed and I’ll add it to the tags.
Happy Camelove 2021! 🥰💜💙
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Of Treaties and Nervous Rekindling
Leon x Male!Reader
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Fandom: BBC Merlin
Word count: 1667
Warnings: Nightmares
A/N: This is a third try of writing this as they kept turning to multi chapter stories, if I turn the original into a multi chapter fic I’ll post it on AO3. See if you can find the small film reference.
Tagged: @fandom-star​
~~~~~~~
Being in the great hall has got to be the stupidest thing that you have ever done and there is a long list. If Constantine, your idiotic King, got us killed out of good intentions you swear to Furies that you’ll kill him in the after life. A black domino mask covers your face as you kneel at King Arthur’s fury. He is yet to know who you all are yet and boy he is going to have a heart attack, fun times. Sloane has her raven black hair covering her face as she is shoved to her knees, making you growl at the cocky knight who thought he could be boastful. Zathrian’s auburn hair has been un-neatened by an almost comically large man. King Arthur’s voice booms across the hall. “Who are you and what is your business in Camelot?”
“I am Constantine, King of Dumnonia.” He speaks in an authoritative tone. 
“What?” The King seems shocked
“A letter was sent informing you of our arrival a month ago, we are here to simply renew a treaty.” 
“Merlin! Get the documents on my desk now.” He growls.
A scrawny servant runs from the King’s side past you. Minutes later he and other knights enter and you see Leon. It had been over a decade since you last saw him and damn he grew up, probably taller than you now, hair hasn’t changed one bit. You’re now thankful for the mask you were wearing otherwise he would have known it’s you straight away. The serving boy hands the king the letter and you can see the embarrassment on his face as it proves your innocence.
“I apologise for the misunderstanding, we thought-” The King started 
“That we were here to kill you, don’t flatter yourself.” Sloane snaps.
“Slo, play nice.” Constantine tells her sternly before standing up.
You follow suit. “It was an honest mistake, do you want to try again on the first impressions.” Constantine rensures.
The King looks shocked, but having Uther as a parent would make him think he was going to be punished for a mistake such as this. You brush yourself off, in an attempt to be somewhat presentable. “That would be appreciated, your Majesty.” Arthur nods.
They made their introductions but you were busy scowling at the now apologetic looking knight, Gwaine, who shoved Slo on the ground. Until she elbows you in the ribs causing you to grunt and childishly stick your tongue at her. She flicks your nose and laughs as it scrunches up. Zathrian is smiling. “Behave.” Constantine turns around after shaking the King’s hand to scold us. 
“But…” Zath tries.
“No buts or ifs. My apologies, they are children I swear.”
“What are your names?” Gwen asks, you didn’t even sense her coming in the room.
“Zathrian, m'lady.” He bows down respectfully.
“Sloane.” She nods.
“Ulrich Von Liechtenstein.” you smile coyly, why you said that you don’t know.
Zath and Slo double over laughing and Constantine gives you a glare but you just shrug it off. “That’s not his name, he just thinks he’s funny.” 
“(Y/n), at your service sir and on the contrary I’m hilarious.” You smile, removing your mask stuffing it into a trouser pocket.
You look at Leon and he is smiling, oh gods that smile it felt like everything good in this world smacks you in the face. You smile back. “(Y/n)? Your name sounds familiar.” Arthur asks.
“It should, your father did torture me after all.” I raise my eyebrow, where is my damn filter you think. All traces of happiness dissipate from your face with all fairness. You do look scary when you appear monotonous. 
“What do you mean?” He asks, you turn to get Constantine’s approval he nods.
“I used magic to save a child’s life.” 
“You have magic.” He looks at you with anger and disgust.
“Yes, sire.” You remain stoic with your jaw tensing.
The knights of Camelot tense up, Leon eyes them before looking at you. That's when you know he doesn’t hate you. He’s worried. You shake it off and bow down at the King’s feet and mercy. If he were to kill you a war may start but it would be against a dishonorable man, if he shows mercy and a willingness to learn there is hope for Albion yet. “Rise, I wish to understand not to do harm.”
“Oh thank Clementia, really I thought I was going to die.” Shit that was out loud.
“One condition, it's not to be used to harm any one.” He adds.
“I can't, my magic lies in the art of healing, transformation and a few other things.” You explain.
“What do you mean?” The king asks 
“Everyone’s magic is different, I can’t use spells that purposely inflict harm unless threatened.” You shrug.
“Good to know.” He seems to relax.
“That’s why I stab people instead.” You smile.
“(Y/n)! Stop trying to be funny. It will get you killed!” Constantine nearly shouts.
The knight with shoulder length hair starts to laugh hysterically. You just smile and look down holding in your laugh, looking at Leon he’s smiling. Constantine looks ready to cry, out of frustration probably. The King is unable to respond. Zath grabs my shoulder and pulls you out. “Us two are leaving before the wanna be Menander kills himself.” He drags you out without another word.
You sigh in relief as the doors of the great hall close behind you. “Thanks I couldn’t stop.” You rub that back of your neck awkwardly.
“No problem, tavern?” He suggests.
“Are we allowed to go without Slo?” You ask seriously.
“It gives an opportunity for Constaloane to happen.” Zath justifies.
“Fair lets go.” You agree.
~~~~
Both of you came back after a couple of tankards and Zath is drunk off his ass, lightweight. While you’re a little fuzzy. You spot the serving boy from the hall. “Kid!” You catch his attention.
He turns around smiling as he walks up to you. “Hi can I help you, Sirs.” He asks.
“Don’t worry about titles, but could you show us to our rooms if we have them.” 
“Of course, follow me.” He whispers seeing Zath close to asleep on you.
You drag Zath to his room, and put him on the bed. “Thank you…”
“Merlin, Sir (Y/n).” He smiles and nods.
“Thank you Merlin.” You return the smile.
You enter the guest room and collapse onto the bed and sleep overcomes you in a matter of seconds.
A crack of a whip resonates through a dark cell a pained groan follows, another crack and another. Chains rattle as a boy pulls on them in an attempt to break free. High pitch whistling signaled trouble brewing under the surface. The boy’s skin started to crack golden light seeping from the cracks turning pure black. (E/c) eyes started to well up with tears as he felt himself being torn apart. Screams erupt from his throat and the boy is replaced with a mass of hissing black smoke.
You bolt up sweating and panting. You groan and stretch, the sun is peeking over the horizon so you decide to change into your armour and head over to the training field that you had spotted the previous day. There is a training dummy already set up, you draw your sword and begin hacking into it aggressively and it takes mere minutes for you to destroy it, yet you feel no better. You look around desperately for something to take out your rage, fear and sorrow on. You hear a cough, your head snaps at the direction of the noise. It's Leon. He walks up to you slowly as if you were a scared animal. “(Y/n), we didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday.”
“Sorry.” You look to your feet.
He backtracks quickly “No it’s not an issue, obviously you were nervous being back here.”
“Eh you know, son of Uther kinda scary.”
“Arthur has grown.”
“I know.”
“But I’m not here to talk about Arthur.”
You smile and shake your head. “I suppose not.”
“You left without me, why?”
Well that escalated from a trot to a full on gallop. But you manage to get words out. “I couldn’t uproot you from your home and family.”
“That should have been my choice to make.”
“You know what, I don’t feel bad if that’s what you want. I was tortured, I got literally torn apart. You would have got killed, and that would have been on me!” You defend.
He looks taken aback. “What?” 
“Slave traders, I suppressed my magic then boom… a lot of people died.”
He touches your face and you want to lean into the touch but you can’t seem to. So he initiates the hug instead keeping you in a tight hold, you hesitate to return it seeing it has been a while since you’ve been held. You both stay like that for a while, before Leon breaks the hug with a heartbroken expression. You dread what he is about to say. ”Do you think we could ever be possible?”
“I don’t know… I’m not the same man you loved all those years ago.” 
“Then let’s get to know each other again, let me fall for you all over again.”
“Sounds like you already started.”
“I started as soon as I saw you smile.”
You smile up at him. But inside you are conflicted, if this were to work out how will it work. You love your new life, Constantine is more than just your King he is your friend he gave you a chance when no one else would. Sloane was the one who pulled you out of rubble after you exploded. Zathrian forge your nobility papers to get your foot through the door of knighthood. But you guess you’ll cross that bridge later and pray it goes well for the both of you. 
“Come on we have a treaty to deal with.” You start walking.
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hiimsociallyawkward · 3 years
Text
the wicked day
hey guys. i'm back with my random and annoying merlin thoughts. i should be studying for my bio quiz, but yk- i don't want to :,) love you @lady-ofmagic-andstars✨enjoy✨
literally every time i'm going watching i'm going to comment on john hurt that says young man instead of young boy
it's so subtle but wow. thanks i didn't need to be hurt so early on in the episode
i know i know i'm basically a child but this is so exciting
merlin is so cute
aw no not arthur being pouty abt his big birthday
I LOVE THE 'i heard that' thing so much. i love it i love it
off topic, but i love knife throwing. i've always thought that if i had to choose a weapon that's not a gun, i'd choose knifes. swords? maces? crossbows? sure. but knives?? that's where it's really at
i love arthur not wanting to overburden their citizens
ok uther? i hate him
but here? i love him
he's a good dad here. remembering arthur's birthday? that's so sweet. uther in season 4 is the only time i semi like him
AW ARTHUR AND UTHER AT DINNER
i love them
off topic but i like that arthur is wearing his 'every day' clothes, jacket and a tunic under his cape. that's it. the knights are all wearing his garb but arthur is just wearing his 'regular clothes'
hehe gwen being nervous about arthur being on the wheel is so sweet
idk why but i always get nervous at that last knife.
like of COURSe i know he's not going to get hit but it's scary.
the 'not wearing any trousers' thing omg. bbc really decided to do that
i wish we had more of this parental dynamic of arthur and uther
dam alright arthur. being out of it but still being in it enough to see the guy in the reflection? i stan
SKLFJASLDFJA uther fighting to protect arthur
literally me through his whole scene going 'oh jeez oh jeez oh jeez' on repeat.
so off topic but i kind of like the hairstyle they have for most of the guys in this show?? idk is that weird
oh jeez oh jeez oh jeez uther dying
like, i HATe him. i've been waiting for this since season 1 but this scene makes me sad
ok i don't remember the last episode of merlin so i forget what arthur says when he's dying in merlin's arms??
it's something like 'hold me' right? i feel like that has the same energy as 'stay with me' so while i can't exactly say this is sort of parallel, it's sort of parallel?
i mean, ok 1. dying in someone else's arms. 2. dying in the arms of someone you love? romantically, platonically, familial? doesn't matter. both uther and arthur died in the arms of someone they loved. 3. i'm just gonna say 'hold me' and 'stay with me' have the SAME energy, so if no one has called semi-parallels, i'm calling semi-parallels
bradley's single tear
stfu agarvaine. i'm serious. legit everytime he shows up i wanna pow pow pow him
legit. agaravaine needs to get away from morgana.
DO NOT GRAB HER ARM MISTER. LET GO OF HER
I DON'T CARE THAT YOU'RE SECRETLY IN LOVE WITH HER. LET GO OF HER RN
i've said it once and i'll say it again, i love gwen
not to romanticize death or anything but i like candle light vigils.
ok maybe slightly symbolic but probably not? ok actually i think it is, not to toot my own horn but this is also just really straightforward too.
arthur wearing 'street garb' and his 'knight stuff' sort of differentiates between 'arthur' and 'prince arthur'. the scene where merlin and arthur are looking over the vigil and merlin's talking about how there's nothing that can be done, and arthur mentions using magic, i may be off about this but i feel like he's speaking more from prince arthur rather than arthur, uther is my father.
like of course arthur's hurting, everyone knows he's hurting. but idk. i feel like he feels like he's not ready to be king. he needs more time, and he can't be king yet. so therefore, prince arthur is talking about needing to save their king.
gaius and merlin are both right here. idk what else to say.
wow merlin 'you can't stop me' love that
jeez 'maybe this is my chance to change that' little do you know what's happening soon merlin.
oh shoot.
arthur asking merlin if he would use magic to save his father? i'm just thinking back to merlin crying, but not crying over balinor because he couldn't tell arthur, and merlin having to mourn his father in secret. vs. arthur, asking merlin for advice. sharing all his worries and insecurities with gwen. begging gaius to do something more for his father. this just makes me so sad
arthur TRUSTING merlin. with everything. taking merlin's opinion on things and aw
this is dumb but tbh i really like merlin's outfit. like tbh i think i dress in the same sort of style, just ✨modern✨ sadly, no neckerchief for me but i do have a necklace that says 'heather' despite my name being 'ashley'. ily conan gray
ugh. arthur calling merlin a coward but also calling him brave?? you need to pick a side arthur
LMAO ARTHUR STOP THINKING ABOUT WATCHING MERLIN PEE
bruh arthur breaking the vase. it's so dumb but merlin referring to the vase over and over actually makes me chuckle
ok merlin going 'you have come to kill me?' reminds me of another show but i can't remember but i thought i'd put it out here anyways
oh shoot i just realized/remember that uther got stabbed on arthur's birthday. hell of a gift am i right 😭
hehe arthur 'sweeping' with the broom. silly goose
dragoon sounds so vulnerable asking for the right to use magic freely
i love you arthur. this scene, i'm like YES. arthur i love him
i love the saying 'my word'. like, i don't want people to promise me anything anymore. i want them to give me their word.
HAHA THIS IS SO DUMB. MERLIN SAYING 'QUESTIONS. SO MANY QUESTIONS'. I LITERALLY SAY IT WITH THE SHOW EVERY TIME. WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME
aw arthur just sitting there with the cup and trying not to break it HAHA he's so sweet. slightly scared after that vase yk what i mean
ok i don't like morgana and everything but that necklace? that's a stroke of genius. yes girl. make up the plan as you go along
frick you agarvaine. do not scare gwen you PERV
jeez agarvainewas SO rude putting that necklace onto uther. like yes, ik you don't like him but STILL. that's just rude
i'm going to start calling people toads now
hehe arthur closing his door and merlin being right there. it's not necessarily a trope but it totally is and i love it
ah yes. merlin and the tavern. i feel like it's been referred to before but it's still funny.
ok ik arthur carrying merlin is there for kicks for the kids but i laughed anyways
apparently i have the humor of a 10 year old
this is really dumb but the scene with arthur and the two guards. i'm just thinking 'how tall are these guards'. ofc ik that the staging/perception could be doing something that might be making arthur look shorter, but my first reaction was 'bradley is 6' just how tall are these guards??'
merlin's speech about magic makes me sad
aw 'i hope, one day, that you'll see me in a different light'
dragoon has the same effect on arthur as merlin does
uther waking up 😭
AW. UTHER'S LITTLE SIGH AND THEN 'ARTHUR' BREAK MY HEART COVEY. BREAK IT A THOUSAND TIMES.
they're both so happy. this makes me so sad now. oh jeez. oh jeez. oh jeez
oh jeez oh jeez merlin's expression. AW merlin gave arthur his word. oh jeez this is very stressful and i'm only watching this
ok obviously. merlin doesn't want to see arthur in pain. but ALSO this was merlin's chance to change things once and for all. and now uther is dead. #no liam just payne
arthur's face post crying. skf;aldjfa;ldk AW
frick you agarvaine. literally die. i can't wait for merlin to kill you
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i think this scene is pretty. the light on the left and the dark on the right? ok actually, i'm going to be making an off base comparison now because that's all i do.
i'm remembering this post i saw on here and it was like, arthur uther and morgana in the throne room. in order of the way they sit in the throne room, first it's arthur, uther, and then morgana
well. the really dumb and off base comparison here is the 'light' goodness of arthur and the 'dark' evil of morgana being mirrored in the picture above.
'light', bravery, doing what's right- being on the left. 'dark', evil, power on the right- and arthur in the middle of it, king
like i said, it's a dumb off base comparison, but at least the picture is pretty
oh jeez this scene
my heart breaks for both of them
merlin not being able to form a sentence at first.
😭😭😭😭 arthur please. you're breaking everyone's heart right now
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you already knew i had to include this scene
arthur walking in there all alone
oh jeez he's all alone
dumb parallel number 2. arthur walking into the throne room with uther, father and son. merlin and gaius closing the door for arthur- pseudo father and pseudo son.
'he'll never know who i really am'
i want to do a DEH post soon but jeez. the line that hits hardest for me in DEH is 'i never let them see the worst of me. cause what if everyone saw? what if everyone knew? would they like what they saw? or would they hate it too? and jeez that's all i can think about when i think about merlin and his secrets
again. no liam, just payne
asldkfja;sldkfjas dlf merlin waiting for arthur
i have so many feelings
i love the show of affections for his father. you already know that uther wasn't affectionate when arthur was growing up, but still. forehead kiss? i love it
I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO FEEL THAT YOU WERE ALONE. i hate this and love this so much. i'm not saying merlin is completely selfless, because merlin wants magic to be leagalized and arthur is the way to do that. but omg merlin not wanting for arthur to feel like he's alone breaks me
first, merlin being physically alone while waiting for arthur. arthur was technically alone too, but he was with his father
but also, merlin being alone in the sense of his magic. no one knows except for gaius. lancelot knew and then they killed him. merlin is so alone when it comes to his magic, and morgana's enchantment only pushes merlin into his 'magic shell' more. arthur thinks magic is pure evil, and merlin is made of magic. what does that mean would think of arthur. this hurts me so much i'm so sad
friend 😭
arthur asking if he's hungry and them getting breakfast together
ok this sound track
pendragon red. i actually stan
gwen wearing a purple dress?? color symbolism?? nah i'm over thinking
ASIFA;SDLFJAD HE'S KING OF CAMELOT
IT'S LIKE I WANT TO CRY BECAUSE I'M SO PROUD RIGHT NOW.
oh jeez oh jeez.
and merlin saying 'long live the king' at the end of the episode?
chills
Anyways! I’ll be back next week to rant more about aithusa so I’ll see you then! thanks I love you bye
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panharmonium · 4 years
Note
hi! was wondering if you had any thoughts on what type of clothing merlin & will & co. would wear in the modern world. asking for a friend. which may be my sketchbook :)
!!!!!!!! your sketchbook can ask all the questions it wants - it’s earned the right for sure, by virtue of giving me so much joy - i look at that picture of merlin and will every night when i turn my dinosaur lamp off and it makes me so happy
so, with regard to this question, i am TERRIBLE with clothes even in my real life, so beyond gwen’s sundress, i didn’t have a crystal-clear image of everybody’s clothing while i was writing (best thing for me about canon-era merlin is that every character only has like 3 outfits, thus sparing me the need to think too hard about it, haha) but in a general characterization sense, i can definitely give you the basics on at least will and merlin (you 100% do not need to pay attention to any of this, i just ended up having too much fun thinking about it):
merlin
merlin in this universe is mostly trying to blend in, so he’s pretty low-key when it comes to clothes (though he’s not quite as ruthlessly pragmatic as will).  most of the time he basically replicates his old style of “one shirt on top of another shirt” by way of various open button-downs on top of other things.  sometimes the button-downs are checkered, like the ones colin morgan wears in various behind the scenes photos, and he likes having them in different colors.  he also loves a sharp sweater - this is definitely something merlin in that universe would wear.  
he’s got your normal ensemble of t-shirts and things, too, but he usually prefers the layered shirt+shirt combo, so a t-shirt is typically on top of another long-sleeve tee, or under an open button-down/jacket/zip-up etc, unless it’s too hot.
there are also moments when he goes into full-on Comfy mode, because honestly he is 1500 years old and he gets tired sometimes, and then it’s oversized sweater city.  he loves thick socks.  he loves pajamas.  (he loves anything good for sleeping...honestly, he just loves sleeping, period.  he’s been trying to catch up on sleep for 1500 years, and he still feels like he hasn’t gotten enough.)
elyan once gave merlin and arthur a pair of t-shirts that said ‘if lost, return to merlin’ and ‘i’m merlin.’  both merlin and arthur categorically refuse to wear them.
will
will in this universe is a strictly practical dresser.  clothes are for keeping you warm or protecting you from stuff, not for decoration, so everything he wears is plain and sturdy and sensible.  no funky patterns, no unnecessary accessories, and nothing that’s going to wear through after a month (like - the pre-ripped jeans trend would drive him bonkers.  merlin doesn’t even enjoy that style of trouser, but he would buy a pair and wear them for the sole purpose of driving will up the wall.)
stuff like this is basically will’s default look (and in his natural setting, too; fitting).  he adds jackets/sweaters/other layers as necessary, but everything is always chosen to be functional rather than stylish.  he will not, on principle, ever consent to wear anything with fake pockets.
that doesn’t mean he’s totally devoid of personality, though.  he has a “no farms, no food” shirt that he wears until it falls apart:
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he also has a growing collection of graphic tees that merlin keeps giving him as jokes
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other examples of shirts will owns, courtesy of merlin:
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will pretends to hate them but he also wears them literally all the time, so, draw your own conclusions.
merlin and will also have no clothing boundaries and take items from each other without a shred of guilt or any expectation that things will be returned on time (or ever).  will steals a hat of merlin’s that has ear flaps because a) it’s useful, and b) it hides the fact that sometimes he still leaves his headphones in when merlin tries to make him socialize with the knights.  merlin, for his part, ends up appropriating will’s “leave me alone” shirt and wears it as pajamas every night - will is fairly certain that merlin actually magicked the t-shirt’s text to repel phone calls, nightmares, and visits from minor deities, so will doesn’t ask for it back.
and those are the basics!  i had too much fun with this, clearly - thank you for asking the question! :D
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blog-for-merlin · 4 years
Text
A WIP DON’T KILL ME I’M A SHITTY NEW WRITER
i mean i know it’s not very good but if for any reason you like this, don’t steal it please!!! also give me you’re harshest critique, i will really appreciate it!!! tell me what you hate and what you like
The dear dark-haired boy who I've grown so fond of over the short time I've known him, pulls me along eagerly by the hand. He looks so happy. I've never seen that much joy on his face before. His smile is contagious and I can't help but grin as I happily let him guide me through the trees. Merlin follows hot on my heels, looking left and right, far and wide, even though we're almost half a day from Camelot.
The western sun splits shadows through the treetops and for a second in its ethereal light, everything shines––the leaves, the ground, Mordred. The mindless chirping of the forest birds sounds like a symphony of the most beautiful music. I feel so at peace. I'm not even there yet, but in this moment, between a giddy young Druid boy dragging me through a forest and a loving friend who would risk his life for me, I feel the most comfortable and loved that I've been in a long time. Maybe the most I've ever been. As if he can sense my thoughts, Mordred turns to me, slowing his pace but not stopping. In his smile, I can feel it. Something I've never felt before, yet I know exactly what it is. Home. Right on cue, a hand gently cups my shoulder. Merlin offers a reassuring smile–– the best he can do in his puffing out of breath state.
I realise that we're making our way along the side of a small valley. The forest to our side extends for a few yards until it reaches a drop. I'm too far to see how steep the drop is, but I doubt we're very high. Under the covering of the giant oak trees, the valley would be hidden from far sight. The perfect hiding place. The perfect home.
Mordred pulls me closer to the edge. We're approaching a group of huge boulders by the side of the drop. The rocks are wedged between the roots of a giant tree. It must be hundreds of year old. The rocks look like they've been embedded into the soil. 
Mordred slows to a jog, then a walk, "There. Behind the boulders."
Merlin bends over, gripping his knees, wheezing. "It's here? Are you sure?"
I wait a moment to catch my breath. "This is it," I whisper. This is all I've ever wanted. People who will accept me. Love me, regardless of what dreams I have. Regardless of what dark truths my nightmares reveal to me. Regardless of what cursed things my eyes show me. A place where there are others. Other like me, like Mordred. I let out a suppressed chuckle of disbelief. It all feels so unreal. This is it. This is what I've been craving since as long as I can remember. No more nightmares. No more hiding.
"Morgana?" Merlin walks to stand across me. He grips my shoulders. Looks me right in the eyes. I see nothing but love and care. What did I ever do to deserve such a friend? "They'll love you. I promise. If I can see the goodness within you, then the Druids, who have lived to see the goodness in the world, will be able to see it. You'll be happy."
I nod. My eyes are stinging. I hope he's right. I try and fail to keep in a single tear that slides down my cheek. Will it be all I've ever hoped for? Mordred stand there, watching on. He's trying his best to be polite, but he's clearly getting impatient. He hasn't seen his home and his people for days now. "You can go Mordred. Go ahead. Just give me a minute. Tell them I'm here." He takes a sharp breath, then smiles and nods. He sprints to the rear of the largest boulder and disappear behind it.
I grip Merlin's forearm. He places an encouraging hand aver mine, "Ready?" he asks.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, inhaling the joy, the comfort, the peace that I feel. It's now or never. "Ready."
We make our way behind the stone. There's a flight of steps carved down the side of the valley's drop. It winds down into a tunnel right through the side of the earth. We march through thee dark tunnel, careful not the trip over roots. They must be the roots of the ancient tree. The tunnels turns to a slight slope. We can see a bright light at the end. Distant laughter echoes through the tunnel. Children. Snippets of chatter and clanging and singing float through to us. There are two silhouettes waiting for us in the light at the end. I can make out Mordred's shadow standing by them.
As we get to the end, I can see it all. It doesn't look real. It looks like something you'd hear in a child's tale. It is a beautiful sanctuary. Ribbons are tied to trees and vines and sticks everywhere. Tents are set up all over the place. A small river runs along the side of it. Trees surround the entire site and I wonder how it's possible that an open space can exist so far below the forests we were running though just moments ago. Children are shouting and yelping and running all over the place, their mothers running after them with bowls full of porridge. Men and women emerge from tents to join those who are already gathering around large pot sitting on a fire. A small crowd had formed close to the end of the tunnel. Excited faces watch with squinted eyes and necks crane to get a look at us. The intruders. I hesitate.
"Morgana!" Mordred's voice instantly sets me at ease as the boy bounds up to us, tugging at both Merlin's and my arms, "Farah! Farah, look!" I the light, we can clearly see the two who stand at the entrance to the tunnel, waiting for us. They are two women. The elder one has a kind smile and twinkling eyes. She's maybe a bit younger that Gaius. She wears a faded red cloak and her hair is tied back neatly in a plait.
The other women is younger. My age perhaps. She is gorgeous. She has auburn hair, similar in colour to that of fire. Her fiery locks are let out in wild untamed curls. Her face is a perfect canvas for the freckles that are speckled all over her nose and cheeks. She wears a large crumpled white tunic, similar to something Arthur might wear, half tucked into a pair of worn brown trousers. She wears no shoes and has a sword in a scabbard fastened to her belt. She stands with a slight frown and her arms crossed. She is stunning.
"So," she glares as we approach, "You're the seer. One of Uther's own." My heart plummets. One of Uther's own? I look to Merlin. His lips are thinned and his eyes set sternly, but he gives me a confident nod.
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hayleysstark · 5 years
Text
Presentable
Words: 1943 Warnings: One (1) swear word Summary: "Merlin," Arthur says, "are you telling me you only own two outfits?"
"Two tunics," Merlin says, irritably. "And two scarves. Sorry I don't have an entire wardrobe of literally hundreds of breeches and cloaks and God knows what else like a certain prat I know who could stand to appreciate his brave and hardworking and handsome servant a bit more—"
"Oh, shut up, Merlin," Arthur says impatiently. Merlin lost him at "hardworking". 
Read on Fanfiction and AO3. 
"Still can't believe you forgot," Arthur says, and grabs another leech off Merlin's leg. He's not sure where to put it, actually. He certainly doesn't want the three inches of slick, revolting slime anywhere in his room, doesn't even want the thing to touch the floor, if he's being honest. Actually, he really doesn't even want Merlin anywhere in his room right now, with the state the idiot's in, but there's not much to be done about that anymore, is it?
Merlin's cheeks turn red. "Well," he says, in a very huffy sort of voice, "maybe if you weren't such a prat—"
"Well, maybe if you weren't such an idiot," Arthur says, which is the only rational and mature and kingly sort of thing to say to that, of course, and he dumps the mucky leech in Merlin's open palm.
Merlin glowers at Arthur, and then at the leech. "Well," in his huffiest voice yet, "maybe if you weren't such a—"
"All right!" Guinevere's a small woman, but when she wants to make herself heard, she makes herself heard. She steps neatly between them, long skirt rustling softly with the motion, and puts out a hand. "All right. That's enough. Merlin forgot, Arthur, it could happen to anyone. Merlin," she adds, before Arthur can even open his mouth to tell her no, it couldn't happen to anyone, it could only happen to Merlin because Merlin is the biggest idiot in the entire kingdom, honestly, who else could forget the day they're finally not going to be, you know, an actual criminal anymore, "Merlin, just go back to your chambers and get changed, quick as you can. No one will notice if you're a bit late."
Arthur raises his eyebrows. Now that's certainly stretching it a bit. "Guinevere," he says, "I'm going to announce that Merlin is a sorcerer in front of the entire court. I think they're going to notice if he's not—"
Guinevere throws him a dark look over her shoulder. "Arthur, this really isn't the—"
"Um," Merlin says, "I-I don't. I don't think I can. Um. Do that."
Oh. Perfect. Idiot doesn't have a shy bone in his body until it really counts, huh? "Don't be such a girl, Merlin," Arthur says. "You're just going to be standing there. It's not difficult."
Merlin scowls at him. "I meant about my clothes," the huffy voice is back. "I don't have anything else. My spare tunic got torn to ribbons last week, in case you don't remember, and I haven't had the time to mend it, because you've been working me harder than one of your hounds for ages."
Something in that sentence doesn't really sit right with Arthur, but it takes him a second to figure out what it is. "Merlin," he says, "are you telling me you only own two outfits?"
"Two tunics," Merlin says, irritably. "And two scarves. Sorry I don't have an entire wardrobe of literally hundreds of breeches and cloaks and God knows what else like a certain prat I know who could stand to appreciate his brave and hardworking and handsome servant a bit more—"
"Oh, shut up, Merlin," Arthur says impatiently. Merlin lost him at "hardworking". "And for God's sake, man, tomorrow, go out and get yourself some new clothes."
"Right," Merlin says. "Yes. Of course. I'll just whip out my handy coin purse filled to bursting with gold. Excellent idea, Sire. Why didn't I think of it."
Guinevere reappears at Arthur's side—when did she leave? Where did she go?—and tosses her own silken purple cloak at Merlin.
It lands, squarely, on Merlin's head, fluttering down like a veil. He sputters, and flicks it off again. "What's this?"
"Pull that on," Guinevere says, a trifle impatiently, "and I'm sure Arthur's got an old pair of breeches I can dig up—your boots aren't too bad, I suppose, but—"
"Um," Merlin says. "I can't wear this."
"What?" Guinevere frowns at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin, of course you can wear it—"
"Are you really trying to dress Merlin in a girl's cloak right now?" Arthur's not sure how many times the world's tilted on its axis in the last thirty minutes alone, but damn if this one isn't actually sort of entertaining. "I mean, color really suits him, but—"
"Oh, shut up, Arthur," Merlin says. "I haven't got an issue with the cloak—"
Guinevere arches her eyebrows. "Really, Arthur? You don't seem to mind it when I wear your—"
"All right, all right, please don't talk about wearing each other's clothes while I'm still in the room," Merlin says, pleadingly.
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur says, a furious heat flooding his face. "It's a girl's cloak, Guinevere, it's a bit different—"
"It's not really different at all—"
"I've not got a problem with the cloak!" Merlin bursts out furiously. "For God's sake, it's purple! You really want me to stride in there wearing the color of royalty—?"
"Oh, so, now you care about rank—!"
"Yes, now I care about rank, they'll be baying for my blood in less than ten minutes' time—"
"Of course they won't," Guinevere says, soothingly, "they're going to see how much you've done for the kingdom, and they're all going to love you, just as much as we do."
"Hang on, now, Guinevere, 'love' is a bit of stretch, don't you think—?"
"No, I don't think, Arthur, I happen to love Merlin very much, and I'm sure you share the—"
"Look," Merlin says, loudly, and Arthur has never, ever been more grateful for the idiot, "I appreciate the thought, a lot, but I'd really rather not take my chances." He holds the cloak back out to Guinevere.
"Oh, for God's sake, Merlin," Arthur snaps—they really don't have the time to waste quibbling about this, "if you've got that much of an issue, can't you just—just stop being a girl, and change the color, or something?"
Merlin looks, questioningly, at Guinevere.
Guinevere nods. "Go on, then, Merlin."
Merlin's eyes flare the now-familiar gold, and the cloak's bold plum melts at once down to deepest blue, like the last of a candle's wax burning out. "Erm," Merlin says, awkwardly, a pink tinge stealing over his pale cheeks, "it's—it's a bit small, d'you mind if I—if I—?"
"Whatever you need to do with it, Merlin," Guinevere assures him.
"Yes," Arthur says, "and for God's sake, hurry up."
Merlin scowls at him, even as the cloak broadens out in the shoulders and unrolls almost a full twelve inches at the hem. He shrugs off his jacket, and tugs the cloak on in its place. There's still miles of silver thread, glistening lightly all around the edges of the cloth, but Merlin doesn't seem to mind that so much. He shakes his shoulders a bit, until the cloak's fully unfurled, and the bottom drags the ground behind him.
"Tuck it up a bit more," Arthur tells him. "It's too long."
"It's fine," Merlin says. "I'll launder it and put it back to normal when I'm done." He murmurs a few gibberish words under his breath, and a couple of the leeches peel off his trousers and flop to the floor.
Arthur wrinkles his nose. "You're scrubbing that up later," he says. "And do something about your hair. You look like you've got a forest trying to grow in there."
Merlin rolls his eyes, but he makes all the twigs and leaves and hay drop from his dark locks. Arthur half-expects a squirrel or something to pop out before he's done.
"There," Merlin says, a bit sourly, "can we go now?"
"Merlin," Guinevere says, "please, change your trousers."
"And get rid of the scarf," Arthur says.
Merlin clutches at the red cloth at his throat like a lady of the court might grasp at her fine jewelry. "My mother made me this!"
"Oh, let the scarf stay, Arthur," Guinevere says, "it's not doing any harm."
"Fine, but get the flowers out of it."
"Oh," Merlin looks very disappointed, "but the cult gave them to me."
Arthur turns, slowly, on his heel to look round at Merlin again. He didn't hear that right. "The—the cult?" Nope. No. No way. He didn't hear that right.
Merlin forlornly plucks a wilted daisy from the scarlet loop round his neck. "The cult," he explains, "see, they live in the Darkling Woods—I didn't mean to get mixed up with them, except now they think I'm their god in mortal form, and they won't leave me alone." He lets out a deep, world-weary sort of sigh, like entire cults thinking he's a god in mortal form is an everyday occurrence.
"I—I'm sorry," Arthur says, "Merlin, what the hell?!"
"I mean, it's not all bad," Merlin says, thoughtfully, as he takes a purple aster out of his scarf, too. "They always give me lots of flowers, and this time, they'd woven me up this crown of leaves, it was really quite sweet. Anyway, I'm trying to convert them, except, not to a religion."
Arthur's head begins to throb. "Merlin," he says, "please tell me you do not have a cult."
"Yes," Merlin says. "But a nice cult. Mostly, they just write poems about my greatness, and feed me lots of chicken. It's quite lovely, actually. You could stand to do a little more of that, you know."
"Please just change your trousers," Arthur chokes out, and promptly collapses in the nearest chair.
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