#anyways I want more merthur hugs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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The aftermath of Merlin snapping, and yelling at Arthur in the middle of the forest;

Arthur pushes for change, the gang takes bets on when Merthur will happen, and someone, somewhere, is grumpy.

Part 2 of Merlin’s Angry Outburst.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Once Arthur has a first draft of the repeal, the first people he brings in on it (with Merlin’s approval, of course) are the 5 knights, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana.

(Morgana, who later that evening comes back to Arthur's chamber in tears (Merlin is also there) to reveal her magic, and thank him for not being Uther.)

All of them enthusiastically agree, after only a little conversation.

Elyan and Leon are the most... dubious, but only because of the practical factor, they don't disagree with the actual repeal.

After months of the gang working in secret, they reveal their best draft to the council. At least half the council are new members that Arthur appointed, the rest are left over from Uther’s time.

They argue back and forth for a while, half vs half. A few of the older members, who were around before the purge, slowly start changing their minds.

In the end, it takes them maybe a month to get a majority, and Arthur overrules the remaining opposition. He is King after all, technically, he doesn’t even have to have a council.

Days after the agreement is reached, Arthur goes out personally to collect a few specific Druids, who had been waiting just outside the border for the go ahead.

It takes maybe another month to go through all the laws thoroughly, changing and editing and altering what needs to be altered. With the help of Arthur's close advisors on the political aspects, and the help of the Druids, Merlin, and Gaius, on the magical aspects (what should be allowed freely, what should be monitored, and what should remain fully banned).

The city celebrates when the announcement is made, they all loved the new King anyway, and had been overjoyed with the drop in executions, and deliberate ignoring of small instances of magic.

After a feast to celebrate the new found freedom among the people, the gang gathers once more, in private, and Merlin tells a shortened version of the story he'd told Arthur all those months ago.

None of them are that surprised (Gaius, Morgana, and Lancelot already knew, of course).

If they hadn't suspected Merlin of being a sorcerer before this whole thing started (Leon, Gwaine, and Gwen definitely suspected) , then they had certainly begun to in the last few months. They cheer when Merlin finishes telling them "just how often I've saved your oblivious arses" .

They cheer even louder when Arthur announces that he would be made court sorcerer, and it would be made official in a ceremony before the week ended.

There are no cheers when Morgana stands.

Curious eyes land on her, probably due to how terrified she looks, but the small encouraging nods and little smiles she gets from her brother (her Brother), Merlin, and Gwen, give her the strength she needs to tell everyone of her magic as well.

They see she is frightened, they imagine how difficult it must have been, being at first Uther’s ward, and then his daughter. They smile gently, and she receives hugs a plenty. Once all the congratulations are out of the way, she sits back down next to Gwen, still shaky and full of adrenaline, but happy.

She spends the remainder of the group’s quiet celebrations with her hand gripped in Gwen's under the table.

(Read this how you want, I personally envision it as the start of something)

So the days draw on, Merlin is announced Court Sorcerer, Arthur hires another manservant and gives Merlin a large set of chambers in the same hallways as Arthur's, complete with all the books on magic Arthur can find, and several of the magical artefacts that had previously been kept locked away (Merlin and Arthur are the only ones who are able to gain access to the room, something magicky I guess).

(No one mentions that that corridor is supposed to be for royalty only. Leon figures they're bound to realise that they're in love with each other any day now, and then Merlin will practically be royalty anyway so... might as well cut out the middle bit of having to shuffle chambers again later on).

The kingdom is prospering, and for months after the initial announcement, and implementations of the new laws, sorcerers and nobles from all over Albion, visit Camelot, to give congratulations to the King.

They give gifts and provide knowledge.

The Druids, however, are a slightly different story.

The ones who had been helping with the paperwork, had been... odd(?) around Merlin. But they respected his wish to keep all of that under wraps, or at least until it was announced publicly.

Arthur and Gaius know the whole Emrys story. Lancelot and Morgana know bits of it... but other than that... as far as anyone is concerned, the newly promoted Court Sorcerer is just another wizard.

The new Druids entering the kingdom are paying brief respects to the Forever King (I mean... at this point, he's still only King of Camelot... which is what he was before the magic ban repeal), before staring in reverence at the Court Sorcerer stood by his side.

They respect his wishes to keep the worshipping and gift giving to a minimum, though they still come to him for requests of miracles and ask him to perform druid ceremonies (blessings and name-givings and weddings and funerals (though they prefer to call them celebrations of life, rather than commiserations of death) and such).

Merlin can only brush off so many displays of such awe before the rest of The Gang demands to know what’s up, at which point he has to come clean about the whole... “Most Powerful Warlock To Ever Walk The Earth” thing.

Much to Merlin’s chagrin (and everyone else's amusement) the Druids still insist on calling him Emrys. The stubborn ones sometimes even go for "My Lord Emrys", which gets them a scowl from Merlin (and barely concealed laughter from everyone else).

Maybe... later on... when Morgana is more comfortable with her magic, after a few months practicing with Merlin (with a supportive Gwen Always at her side) , she is announced as the Court Seer.

Merlin had never had much luck with prophetic visions, but once Morgana’s fear died down, once she learned to let it flow, and breathe through it, the visions come easier, and kinder.

She stops seeing only visions of doom, and worst case scenarios, instead she has dreams of the many paths the future may take.

She does not panic when a path seems grim and dark, for she has a King and a Warlock and Gwen, by her side. Always. And they work through the future together.

So the ban has been repealed officially for around 6 months.

Arthur is a couple months away from completing his second year as King. And he and Merlin are still beating around the bush.

The betting pool for when they’ll finally get together has been growing bigger and bigger. Practically the whole castle is in on it now, with Gwen and Morgana as the ring leaders. Whoever wins... will be very lucky.

(It's Leon in the end, he pays attention, and he know what his boys are like. But he's a noble and has no need for the money, he pays for a few rounds of drinks and donates the rest to one of children's homes in the lower town).

But the war comes first.

Camelot has been prospering, and has many supporters throughout Albion, but one of the kingdoms, it doesn't matter which, you decide, does NOT like this.

Scouts and small patrols have been needling Camelot’s borders for months now, and Arthur and his Council (and Inner Council) have been making quiet preparations. They know that some sort of... something, is coming soon.

Especially when Morgana begins to dream of battles and blood and lightening.

They prepare for, and expect, a full scale war, but they hope for some negotiations and a peace treaty with the opposition.

Their hopes are dashed, when a messenger is escorted into the throne room, wearing The Opposition’s colours, with a letter.

Said letter is an angry rebuttal of everything Camelot stands for, full of accusations of abandoning tradition, and spitting in the face of great leaders, of which this soft boy-king should NOT be counted as.

At the end, there was an official declaration of war.

The messenger boy was obviously scared to death, and once Arthur read the P.S, which invited Arthur to torture and/or execute him to the whatever extent he wants, he understood why. Without any hesitation, he offers the boy a job in the stables, a new wardrobe of clothes, and a servant’s bed in the castle.

After the official council meeting on the matter, setting up war committees, laying out contingency plans, organising the distribution of emergency evacuation plans, and discussing potential aid that could be requested from allies, Arthur pulls the gang together, for their own meeting.

“We knew this was coming, and there is no need to panic yet. Our outer borders are well patrolled, and we’re still getting up to date reports. The city walls hold strong, but I want to send out patrols to warn the villages of what’s coming. Start closer to the border, and work our way in. Leon?”

“My Lord, I have teams prepared for exactly that already, I just need to give the word and they’ll go.”

“Good. Morgana, I need you to try and keep focusing your visions, if we have even a small idea of how they might try to initiate the first battle, it’ll be a huge advantage.”

“Me and Merlin have been practising some new techniques to control where and when I can see, we’ll write everything down, and ask the Druids if they’ve seen anything as well.”

Arthur holds in a smile at the confidence in her voice. He is unendingly proud of how far his sister had come, and made a mental note to tell her that when all this was over.

“Brilliant, keep me in the loop. Gwen, when we’re done here, go and let the forgery know, the Royal Household will pay them extra to push out as much long range ammunition as they can. Arrows and crossbow bolts, we need as many as they can produce.” Gwen nods, and Arthur finally looks towards Merlin:

“And Merlin, I need you to be ready. Don’t wear yourself out too much in the next few weeks, I need you in good condition, if we’re to win this with minimal casualties-”

He glances over at Morgana before he continues:

“If the two of you could also ask the Druids if they have any volunteer healers. Make sure they know they aren’t obligated to come, but any help in the infirmaries would be greatly appreciated.” Morgana nods once more, as does Merlin, before he speaks:

“There’s a camp a couple hours ride outside the city at the moment, we’ll head out at first light-” He pauses and closes his eyes for a second, tilting his head, before looking to Morgana:

“They’re expecting us.”

Arthur addresses the room again:

“Right. I think that’s all for now, anyone have anything to add?”

Gaius responds after a moment:

“My Lord, if I could make a request for a few servants to help me set up supplies for the infirmary? Extensive preparations will need to be made to ensure that I have all I’ll need. Preferably people with rough herbal knowledge, if at all possible.”

Arthur nods straight away, responding:

“Yes, of course, I’ll ask the Housekeeper and the Steward who they can spare this evening, and they’ll be ready for you in the morning. Anything else?” At the silence in the room, Arthur tells everyone to get to work.

Leon marches straight down to the training grounds (Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan following him) to ring the summoning bell and inform the knights of the developments, and their tasks.

Gwen heads straight to the forgery (her and Elyan still oversee work there, but they have employees (and a few trainees) to run it) to give the Kings order.

Gaius shuffles out, and makes his way back to his quarters, already making mental lists of ingredients needed, and work to be done.

Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin are left, the royal siblings thinking to themselves, and Merlin thinking to someone else. Arthur contemplates that the whole mental link thing he had going on with the Druids was extremely useful.

Both his and Morgana’s thoughts were interrupted by Merlin huffing, and clenching his fists as he opens his eyes, obviously unhappy with whatever was said:

“Merlin?” From Morgana has the Court Sorcerer looking up from scowling at the table. He replies after wiping the frown off his face:

“Oh, it’s fine. They just made a... stupid suggestion is all. Don’t worry about it.”

“Stupid? Doesn’t sound like the Druids. What was it?”

Merlin looks mildly uncomfortable at that, and replies slowly:

“It... doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you another time. It’s late, you should practice some meditation and head to sleep, no potions tonight. And remember to keep some parchment and a quill by your bed, so you can scribble down anything you see-”

Merlin stands abruptly and heads towards the door:

“-I’m going to check the wards on the outer wall, and push a little more energy into the wells. I’ll see you both bright an early.” With that, Merlin heads out the room swiftly.

Arthur looks to his sister questioningly, but she shrugs as she responds:

“Who knows. “I’ll tell you later” means he doesn’t want you to know, OR he’s hoping I’ll forget because he doesn’t want either of us to know. He’s right though, I should meditate for a while-”

Morgana stands at this:

“- hopefully I’ll see you before we head off, if not, I suppose it’ll be dinner in the evening. Good night, brother.” Morgana leaves the room gracefully, heading in the direction of her chambers.

Arthur thinks for only a moment, before rushing off, catching up with Merlin as he readied his horse, preparing for the journey to the outer walls:

“I’ll come with you. I find I quite enjoy watching you do magic, and to be perfectly honest, I could do with some fresh air to help me think.”

Arthur pretends to ignore the slight blush that dusts Merlin’s cheeks, and readies his own horse. The two of them ride out of the stables and make the journey down the cobbled roads in comfortable silence, side by side.

They take their time on the journey, and the 15 minutes of companionable silence is finally broken by Arthur, who looks at Merlin curiously, as he says:

“So what did they suggest?”

Merlin looks up sharply at that, broken from his deep train of thought as he dumbly replies “What?”

“The Druids. What was the stupid suggestion?” Merlin’s eyes widen at that, and he blushes once more as he looks determinedly forward:

“Oh. That. I told you, it doesn’t-”

“Merlin...”

“Oh fine! They suggested that I... that I forge a mental link with you. Like the one I have with them.” The sorcerer purses his lips at that, and continues to avoid Arthur’s gaze:

“You can do that? Well... would it be such a bad idea? I mean we aren’t going to be able to meet and discuss things as often as I’d like through this whole ordeal. AND you’re basically the Kingdom’s powerhouse, I’m sort of relying on your magical know-how here. Surely it wouldn’t be a bad thing? For us to be able to converse across the battle fields?”

Arthur, in an effort to not be hurt, reminds himself that he doesn’t know all that much about magic, and it very well could be a stupid suggestion, instead of one that Merlin is just personally opposed to.

Merlin, in response, looks to Arthur in great shock, before sighing and looking down to his horses mane:

“It.... is possible. And fairly easy, technically. But it would be painful, AND permanent. I wouldn’t be able to undo it after we won. And a temporary connection takes far too much energy to maintain, even for a short time. I just figured you wouldn’t want me in your head for the rest of our lives.” He tries to inject a little humour into his words, but it falls flat, and he just seems sad.

Arthur pretends he doesn’t notice however, and responds quickly:

“How painful are we talking? I mean I’ve been hurt pretty badly before. And... how exactly does it work? Would we be able to read each other’s mind constantly, without the other knowing? Or what?”

Merlin raises his eyebrows in shock at that, and his answer comes out slowly as he looks at Arthur:

“Like... a really bad headache? Imagine the hardest you’ve ever been hit, without passing out. It would last for a few minutes after the connection is initially forged, but would fade slowly over the next day or so. And no. Once the connection is established we wouldn’t be in each other’s head all the time, we would just be able to sort of... project our voices to one another. Other thoughts would be safe, even if you were thinking about me, I wouldn’t hear it unless you were thinking to me... if that makes sense.”

By the end of his explanation, he’s looking nervously at the King, who is deep in thought:

“Hmm. Ok. I... only if you agree but... it might not be a bad idea. Even after the war is over. There have definitely been times where I’ve needed your opinion on something but you’ve been elsewhere, or we’ve been in the presence of someone else. Of course we’ve been fine so far, if you don’t want to, but-”

Merlin interrupts him, speaking quickly:

“I’m fine with it. I agree, it would be useful. So... I can bring what we need back from the camp tomorrow?”

Arthur nods firmly:

“Yes. The sooner the better, we can do it tomorrow evening, if that’s enough time for you?” Merlin once again looks shocked at this, as Arthur stares at him:

“Oh! Yeah, Yes. That’s fine. Like I said, it’s not particularly difficult, and I can ask Gaius to prepare us something for the pain during the day. Are you... are you sure? It is Permanent.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and huffs:

“Yes, you said that already Merlin. Are you sure?”

Merlin nodded his head decidedly, and spoke confidently:

“Yes. You’re right, it’s not a bad idea. Come on, if we hurry, we’ll make it to the walls, and then to the main well, and then back to the castle, before dark.”

The pair of them hurry their horses, and after another 10 minutes of comfortable silence, they finally reach the City Gates.

The guards give a quick bow, and The King and The Court Sorcerer jump off their horses before handing the reigns to one of the Gate stablehands.

Arthur (and the guards) watch in barely concealed wonder as Merlin presses his hands against the rock of the wall, and closes his eyes.

The golden glow can still be seen from below his eyelids, and he hums slightly as he frowns in concentration, seeming to push into the wall.

Arthur sees a short of... sheen, ripple across the rock, and extend into the sky. Merlin steps back and nods, admiring his handy work:

“They’re holding strong, I’ve extended the height as well. Kilgharrah and Aithusa should be the only ones able to get over it without alerting me now, from the air at least-”

Merlin heads to retake his horse, Arthur following him, before he continues:

“Though I still want to check the tunnels again at some point in the next few days.”

“Of course. Relax Merlin, it’s barely begun, and the borders still hold strong. We’ve plenty of time before things kick off in any way.” He makes sure to speak quietly. A public announcement hasn’t been made yet, and it would be bad if rumours started spreading before The King had time to put together a proper disclosure.

Merlin nods distractedly, and urges his horse to go faster as he heads towards the main well, in the town square. It’s late, not long until sunset, so there shouldn’t be many, if any, people there. Arthur speaks again:

“Why are we visiting the well? I wasn’t aware of any problems?”

“There aren’t any, but once the announcement is made, and once the outer villages are told what’s happening, we’ll have hundreds, probably thousands, of people flock to the city for safety. I just want to make sure we’re prepared for such an influx, and boost our water levels a little.”

Arthur nods at his response, but doesn’t say anything. He chooses instead to admire the man Merlin had become. He held himself differently, more strong, confident in who he was. Just like he had back when he was still a manservant, he served Arthur, and his people, above and beyond his job description. Merlin took upon himself, not only the politics he was supposed to oversee, but the personal safety of both the King, and every Camelot citizen, and he did it all with an alarming amount of grace.

Arthur sometimes catches himself thinking that it was almost as if Merlin was built to be a king. He may not like the spotlight, but he was a protector, and leader, unlike anything Arthur had ever seen before.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you, Merlin. It feels like years ago now, that you yelled at me in a forest.” He says it with a grin, but Merlin flinches. He continues before The Sorcerer interrupts him though:

“Really Merlin. Thank you. You were right, I would’ve got there in the end, but it wasn’t fair for people to suffer in the mean time, and you took the fall in their place. You’re a hero to your people... and to me. You should be proud of your accomplishments, I know I am.”

Arthur resists the urge to duck his head as Merlin looks at him in bewilderment, a definite flush on his cheeks as he replies:

“I... thank you, Arthur. I always had faith in you-” Merlin begins to grin before he continues:

“-and besides, someone had to knock you down a peg. Perhaps you should hire someone to take you into the forest and yell at you every once in a while.”

Arthur laughs at that, and Merlin tries to push down the blush as Arthur responds:

“Now Merlin, why on earth would I hire someone for such a job, when I already have you?”

Merlin chuckles as he answers:

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it, My Lord. Hold the horses, I’ll just be a minute.” With that, Arthur realises they’ve made it to the well, and dismounts as Merlin has, holding both of the horses reigns as he watches Merlin approach the well.

The Sorcerer crouches down, and once again closes his eyes in concentration as he presses his hands into the stone of the well. The glow is a little less bright this time, but Arthur admires it nonetheless.

Merlin finishes quickly, and gathers his horse from Arthur once more, nodding towards the castle.

Arthur follows as Merlin hurries towards the looming building. He wasn’t sure why he was in such a rush, but he only begins questions it when Merlin hurriedly hands the horses of to a stablehand, and continues to run up the castle steps.

Arthur can only just keep up with Merlin, not having the breath to ask him what’s wrong, before Merlin suddenly comes to a stop, catching his breath for a moment to go through a door leading to the highest balcony on the West of the castle:

“Merlin... what.... what are you-”

Merlin wordlessly interrupts The King as he points to the skyline, the sun only a few minutes away from touching the horizon.

There’s not a cloud in sight, and the sky is painted in oranges and pinks in front of them, bleeding into deep purples and blues behind the castle.

Merlin finally mutters, not looking away from the sunset:

“Call me a girl all you want Arthur, but nothing compares to this. It’s beautiful, I come to watch it whenever I’ve got the time.”

Arthur had only glanced briefly at the sunset before looking back at Merlin in wonder, a fond smile on his face (not that Merlin would notice).

He stares at the side of Merlin’s face, the orange sky making the gold in his eyes look even brighter, and the glare of the fading sun making his hair shine. A gentle breeze has Merlin shiver slightly, and Arthur’s smile widens as he responds, so quietly he’s not even sure if Merlin hears him:

“Hmm. Beautiful.” He doesn’t look away.

THIS IS COMPLETED! All 5 parts have been posted:)

If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific let me know✌️

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sunsetcurveofficial · 3 years

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idk if i should ask through here??? but for the prompts you were taking: i thought 10 with merthur?? and 13 with reggie/luke ;))) love your work <3<3<3

thank you for sending them in!! i did peterpatter first, and i’ll do the merthur one in a separate post.

i think this is the first time i ever used present tense in a fic, since this is all about enhancing my writing horizon. was interesting. also idk what this is. it developed a life of its own.

13. “Don’t be sorry… it was kind of cute, actually.”

______

Here’s the thing. Luke Patterson isn’t the tidiest person, exactly. His room tends to be messy, his things tend to be scattered all around the studio, and he can never find the shirt he’s looking for. Sometimes he wakes up in a Nirvana mood and all he can find are Green Day shirts. Sometimes he puts his journal down somewhere, because he has to grab a guitar before the riff in his head leaves him again. And then he forgets where he put it and searches for hours until Reggie, Alex, or Bobby hand it to him as if it was right there all along.

It’s just that he gets so into his music that he forgets things sometimes. He also forgets time a lot and then he doesn’t have any left to clean or bring organise his stuff. It drives his Mom rather mad, but Luke can’t help it. He tries, really, but two days later his room always seems to be back to its original state of chaos.

So imagine his surprise when he gets home after practice one night and finds his room all tidy and clean with small notes pinned to random objects, commenting things like ‘Do you really need this, Luke?’ or just ‘Hahaha.’ or ‘Omg, you kept this.’ in what he identifies as Reggie’s handwriting. He’s read enough of his country songs to know. Smiling, he picks up a stuffed bear Reggie once won for him at a fair they went to together when Alex and Bobby were both busy with their own families. Reggie pinned a note to it, saying ‘Nice to see you keeping the tokens of my affection.’

He hugs the bear close to his chest and keeps looking around his room for more of Reggie’s inane commentary. He finds dozens of notes, and decides to keep them where they are. They make something flutter beneath his ribcage, and fill him with warmth and a sense of comfort he only knows from playing his music. He’s not sure how he feels about Reggie coming to his house when he’s not there and rummaging through his things, but at the same time he knows there aren’t any secrets he’s keeping from him anyway, and Reggie knew about his latest fight with his mother. It was pretty bad, so Luke spent the night at the studio where his friend found him in the morning. So, Reggie knew he struggles with keeping his room clean again, causing him to fight with Emily and feel miserable about it, and he decided to help, apparently.

“I’m sorry for not asking first,” Reggie says suddenly, and Luke spins around to find him standing in the doorway, smiling a little sheepishly. “Your mom let me in,” he answers Luke’s unasked question.

“Don’t be sorry,” Luke says softly, gesturing around his room. “This… it was kind of cute, actually.”

Reggie leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms in front of his chest as he raises a suggestive eyebrow and smiles so brightly, Luke feels himself physically react to the sight.

“Aw, you think I’m cute, do you?”

Luke snorts.

“Yeah, man. The cutest.” He’s not lying. Reggie is… the best friend in the world, but he’s also beautiful, and funny, and Luke loves him so much, really.

Oh. Well, okay. That’s a new thought.

Luke hums curiously as he turns away from Reggie to hide the blush rising to his cheeks. He spots another note at the foot of his bed. ‘Remember when we used to pretend your bed is a stage and performed really bad versions of Queen songs on your first guitar?’

Luke does remember. And he feels warm all over again. Oh. So, Reggie? It’s Reggie for him? The decision is quickly made. Luke has always been an impulsive person, and if he wants something, he goes for it. Apparently he wants Reggie now.

He’s about to turn around when he feels Reggie wrap his arms around his waist from behind and rest his chin on Luke’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to hide your pretty blush, you know?” Reggie says, voice lower than usual. Luke feels it right down to his bones.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty, do you?” Luke says, matching Reggie’s tone from before and grinning as he turns his head. It’s an awkward angle, but they’re so close, their noses almost touching, and Luke suddenly has trouble breathing.

“Yeah, man. The prettiest,” Reggie replies, imitating Luke from before, but sounding no less sincere.

Luke hums again.

“This is new. I have to admit I did not see this one coming,” he says softly, curiously glancing at Reggie’s lips. “You and I?”

Reggie leans a little closer, and his lips are ghosting over Luke’s, almost touching, but not quite yet.

“Neither did I. But I had an epiphany while cleaning your room and finding all these memories of us,” Reggie says, his voice barely more than a whisper. He chuckles. “Well, there goes my heterosexuality.”

And then he kisses Luke, and Luke drops the bear he was still holding to turn in his arms and kiss him back, arms coming around his neck to keep him close.

“That’s overrated anyway,” he comments in between kisses, just before they fall onto Luke’s bed together. The very same one they used to play rockstars on when they were 11.

Later that night, Luke finds more notes as he happily sings ABBA songs to himself. ‘Hello pretty boy. What’s up?’ is written on a small yellow note on the corner of his mirror. On his CD copy of The Other Side of the Mirror by Stevie Nicks, Reggie left a note saying ‘I hope I get to kiss you one day just for owning this. Not sure if I mean that platonically… We should probably talk. I hope you don’t find this before I get a chance to talk to you. If you do… well. Surprise? Reggie is having a sexuality crisis and it’s all your fault.’

And when he picks out a fresh shirt from his closet, a note falls out informing him that Luke’s lack of sleeves on most of his shirts played a significant role in Reggie’s crisis about his sexuality.

“You dork,” he mumbles to himself, putting on a Fleetwood Mac shirt for good measure and singing Super Trouper as he dances down the stairs to help his mother with dinner.

“Aren’t you chipper today?” Emily says with a smile when she spots him. “I think Reggie was humming Dancing Queen when he left earlier. May I ask what put you two into such a delightful mood?”

Luke beams at her, shrugging as he does a pirouette.

“I think we’re in love, Mom,” he tells her honestly. He figures there is no need to lie to her, and he’s feeling way too happy to keep it to himself. Emily only looks a little surprised.

“With each other?” she asks.

Luke nods. “Yeah.”

Emily smiles and reaches out to squeeze Luke’s arm.

“Well, that’s lovely. He’s a fine young man, I’ve always thought so.”

Luke hugs her, just because he can and he doesn’t know why they fight so much when they also frequently have moments like this, when he feels so blessed to have her.

The next day, when Luke walks into the studio and finds his friends already gathered and ready with their instruments, he feels all warm and fluttery again as soon as he spots Reggie, so he walks right over to him and kisses him right on the mouth.

Bobby hoots, Alex claps, and Reggie is eager to kiss back.

“Sorry,” Luke murmurs against his lips.

“Luke?” Reggie says as he pulls back. “If you ever apologise for kissing me again, I’m gonna write a hundred country songs about you, and I will get famous with them, and you’ll forever be known as that weird queer country dude’s boyfriend.”

Luke laughs and raises his hands in surrender.

“What a horrible fate. Alright, no apologies from now on.”

He kisses Reggie again, and this time he doesn’t say sorry. He’s not actually sorry, anyway.

#peterpatter #ruke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #prompts #my fic #my writing #jatp #Anonymous

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Don’t Worry

Prompt: okay so i found your quarantine drabble "it started with a flower" merlin series and can we pls have more of gwen and arthur being worry warts while merlin continues to not understand why their worried? bonus points if merlin is immortal/cant be killed by human injuries so he's more reckless and gwen and arthur are just like "oh for fucks sake please stop merlin if for no other reason then we are mortal and you're killing us w stress" we love self-sacrificing merlin and his worried lovers

Thanks for the prompt, babe! It was so nice to look back at the true mountain of drabbles on this account...still can't get over the fact that a drabble is SUPPOSED to be 100 words exactly...also SHAMELESS D20 reference because that's how we roll babey

Read on Ao3

Pairings: merthur, gwen/arthur, gwen/arthur/merlin

Warnings: none

Word Count: 5653

Merlin has lived through many, many things. He continues to live through many, many things.

The fact that he can do this does not prevent Gwen and Arthur from worrying when he makes some, frankly, quite questionable decisions.

Or, five times Merlin makes Arthur and Gwen worry, and one time they make him worry in return.

1: Poison

In hindsight, the visiting lord was absolutely trying to kill both Arthur and Gwen. The man turned up with all his servants and knights in armor. Even the servants, yes, in leather tunics and with many different squires juggling things that were definitely supposed to be kept hidden. Arthur, of course, didn’t realize this because he’s been trying to be more focused on his own presentation—at least that’s the excuse he gives Gwen—but Merlin knows better. He’s been doing this for a long time.

So when the lord makes a show of rising to his feet amidst a jubilant feast, raising a goblet high in the air, praising Camelot, her strength, and the power of a strong, worthy leader, Merlin has to hide the roll of his eyes when he deftly removes both Gwen and Arthur’s goblets from their grasps. Arthur opens his prat mouth to ask what the hell is going on, only for Merlin to raise an eyebrow, toast to the lord, and down the contents of both.

“Merlin!”

Lancelot is out of his chair in an instant, rushing across the hall to catch Merlin as he slumps, followed swiftly by Gwaine who bellows for Gaius. Percival and Elyan don’t hesitate to draw steel, watching as the servants of the visiting lord hold up their hands.

“My lord,” the visiting lord simpers, “I have absolutely no idea what could have—“

“Save it,” Arthur growls, standing, “you have brought poison into the heart of Camelot. You will explain, but I have no wish to hear your pathetic mumblings right now.”

He turns his back on the lord as the knights rush him, holding the others at bay as Arthur kneels down at Merlin’s side. Gwen rises as well, her chin aloft, looking every bit the queen she is.

Merlin, of course, can’t hear a damn thing past the roaring of blood in his ears. This one’s a nasty one—he can feel it burning as it goes down his throat, splitting off into slivers that find their way through his body, into his chest, into his arms, right down to the tips of his fingers. It feels as though he’s both deathly cold and about to sweat out every little bit of moisture in his body.

He can’t see much either, his eyes squeezing shut to deal with the pain, but he can sense the moving of blurry shapes above him. Probably Lancelot, probably Gwaine, probably not Gaius yet, he’s quite far away.

Oh, is he being lifted? He’s probably being lifted. Alright, so they’re taking him to Gaius this time. That’s new. Wow, is the walk to Gaius’s always this long? Yes? No? He’s having a bit of a hard time keeping track of time right now.

“Merlin? Merlin, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Merlin tries to say, only for his throat to explode in agony again the second fresh air enters, so he just ends up making this horrible half-screech-groan sound.

“Don’t try and speak,” the voice orders, presumably doing something other than just standing there watching this happen, not that Merlin can feel anything, “just hold on. We’re doing our best.”

Merlin closes his eyes fully and relaxes as much as he can onto the bench. Which probably isn’t very much if he remembers how most of these poisons work. He breathes, reaches deep into his chest for his magic, and waits, letting the slow golden light work its way around his body, helped along by whatever Gaius is doing to him.

He opens his eyes an uncertain amount of time later, looking straight into the most disapproving eyebrow he’s gotten in a while.

He swallows, cracking a smile when his throat merely tingles.

“So,” he croaks, “did I miss the rest of the feast?”

“Oh, Merlin!”

Ah, there’s Gwen—she flies into his arms, wrapping her own tightly around his middle, squeezing and holding on for dear life. Oh, her face is wet, has she—

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, clumsily trying to pat her back, “it’s okay, ‘m alright. You’re alright too.”

“Thanks to you,” Gwen says, drawing back and wiping her face only to join Gaius in staring at him with the face of a disappointed parent, “Merlin, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I have a much better chance of surviving that than you and Arthur?”

Gwen bats his shoulder with her shawl. “That is beside the point and you know it. You scared us.”

“Sorry, but—“

“No, Merlin,” Gwen says sternly, “no ‘buts.’ I understand what you’re trying to do, but you know this isn’t good for you.”

“I don’t normally down poison on the regular, no.”

He grins, big and cheeky, right in her face. And to give her credit, she manages to gold that stern queenly façade for a few moments longer before she breaks, smiling and shaking her head and rushing right back in to hug him.

“I trust you unconditionally,” she murmurs, “I just wish you didn’t have to.”

“I have to keep you safe,” Merlin mumbles, still quite tired from fighting the poison, “and I’m alright. I’m always alright, you know that.”

“I know, Merlin.” She draws back and cups his face with a gentle hand. “But I worry.”

“So do I.”

“Not about yourself,” Gwen whispers, “not nearly as much as you should.”

“Well, when I start reacting to deadly things like a normal person, I’ll be more worried.”

2: Bandits

They’re just on a hunting trip. It’s not even a patrol. The knights aren’t even in all their capes and obvious things that flap about in the wind like signal flags saying ‘yes! Hello! We are here and we are obviously from Camelot! Please come and try to stab us!’ Seriously, Merlin’s going to have words with whoever decided that a mandatory part of the knights’ everyday patrol wear is going to be massive red things tied around their necks. It’s a serious thing that he’s run into at least four times. It’s getting a little ridiculous.

Anyway, they’re not wearing those this time, because this is a casual hunt for only the king and his most trusted. Also known as: Arthur the prat is getting tired of being a prat in the castle and wants to go be a prat outside.

Also also known as: court life is hard and the knights—and Merlin—can see Arthur getting tired. So they drag him out to the woods where he can’t escape any of their snark because “There’s no one else here but us, Princess, get used to it.”

Merlin knows Arthur well enough to know he’s secretly very, very grateful for it.

You wanna know what he’s probably not grateful for? The inability of one of their hunts to go without running into at least one mess of bandits after an easy raid.

One hunt, just one. Please.

Merlin doesn’t even like hunts. He just likes not being in the citadel all the time.

He ducks swiftly behind a tree as a bandit takes a wild swing at him with his sword, getting it lodged in the trunk next to him. Merlin’s eyes go wide as the bandit rips it out again with a vicious snarl, drool leaking from his lips as he grins angrily at Merlin. His nose wrinkles as he smells the bandit’s breath.

“Ugh, you’re worse than Arthur in the morning.”

He uses the bandit’s momentary confusion to blast him across the clearing into a tree, knocking him out.

“So Arthur in the morning, huh?”

Merlin rolls his eyes as Gwaine blocks another sword. “Listen, if you want to try and get the prat out of bed, you be my guest.”

“And deprive you of that honor?” Gwaine smirks. “Not on your life.”

Merlin opens his mouth to make some snappy remark when he notices four bandits rushing at them over Gwaine’s shoulder.

“Look out!”

He sends Gwaine to the side with a blast of magic, ignoring the shout of protest. The bandits get closer, swords raised high, one of them letting out a vicious cackle.

Merlin sighs. Honestly.

He raises his hand and sends them all flying backward, smiling a little at the way the vicious cackle turns into a whine that would’ve made the runt of the new litter of dogs ashamed. The bandits lie on the ground, dazed, swords lying all across the clearing.

“Merlin!”

Merlin glances over, seeing Arthur rushing at him. He barely has time to turn before Arthur’s bowling into him, hugging him so tightly he panics for a second that Arthur’s under some sort of enchantment trying to kill him. Only to realize no, this is just his prat hugging him because he’s scared.

“I’m fine, Arthur.”

“There were four of them, you—clot pole!”

“That’s my word.”

“Yes, and it suits you perfectly! Merlin, you could’ve been killed!”

Merlin makes a show of looking around at himself, still fully intact, then back up at a panting Arthur. “I think I’m all in one piece, sire.”

“Don’t you ‘sire’ me, Merlin, you—“

“Did Arthur just admit that he likes it when I don’t refer to him with the proper titles?” Merlin glances around at the other knights that are trying valiantly not to laugh. “Did I just hear that right?”

“That’s what I heard.”

“Me too.”

“I mean we all knew it.”

“It’s taken him this long to figure it out.”

Leon simply shrugs. That man’s ability to keep a straight face is something Merlin will always respect and never understand. But he has gotten very good at spotting the way Leon will wink surreptitiously at him when he’s amused. Like now.

“Alright, alright, enough,” Arthur mutters, sheathing his sword and wrapping his arms tightly around Merlin again. “Don’t do that.”

“What, take care of all of our enemies really easily?”

“Scare me.”

“And now you’re admitting that you get scared when I’m in danger?”

“Only because I know Gwen would have my head.”

“Ah, yes, because Gwen is like that.”

Arthur glares at him. There’s a flash of something behind his eyes. Merlin spots it.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, too quiet for the others to hear, “and I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“You’d better be.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Gwaine calls loudly to various laughs, “let’s go. There are still tracks here.”

Arthur looks back at Merlin. “You’re riding next to me.”

“You say that as if I don’t already ride next to you.”

“Shut up.”

3: Fall

Okay so listen: when you chase people around the castle, they inevitably look for a way out. And if they’re high up, they’re going to go for a window if they get desperate enough.

Yes? Everyone on the same page?

Wonderful.

So Merlin’s currently falling out of a window.

In his defense, there was a rogue sorcerer who hadn’t realized that the ban on magic had been lifted and Uther isn’t king anymore skulking around the citadel. Merlin’s best guess is that they were imprisoned somewhere and only just got free, otherwise they’d’ve known. And, well, they tried to explain that magic is legal now—he’s so proud of Gwen and Arthur, really.

Someone just burst into their chambers in the middle of the knight and Gwen had been out of bed, offering him a drink and sitting down while Arthur asked the guards if they could bring food. They’d told him the ban had been lifted and that he was free to practice magic now. Then Merlin had shown up and asked what was going on and apparently, they’d taken it as a challenge? That Merlin—the Court Sorcerer—was going to arrest them for practicing magic.

In their defense, it was the middle of the night. Not in their defense, come on.

So they’d run, promising to bring down the walls of the castle. Merlin had rolled his eyes because he just got here, and taken off after him. They’d run around the top floors of the castle for a while, trying to figure out first, where the stairs were, and second, what the bloody hell was going on.

Then the sorcerer had jumped out a window. Sure. Alright.

Unluckily for him, when he’d broken the glass, a large shard had decided to make its home in his chest and he was dead before he hit the ground. Merlin, not realizing precisely what the plan was—when had he ever?—jumped after him, only to realize that there is in fact, no courtyard over here, just empty air until the cold stone of the square below.

So, falling.

It’s surprisingly peaceful, as a way to go. Time to enjoy the view, a good reminder that they should really make sure there’s someone at the front gate, and Merlin simply closes his eyes and concentrates.

There.

At the last possible minute, he slows, reaching almost a stop, before letting himself drop the last few feet to land harmlessly on the ground. Well. That could’ve gone better.

“Merlin!”

“Right on time,” he mutters, getting himself to his feet, and brushing off the little pieces of glass, looking up to see Gwen leaning out of the window.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, thank god,” she calls, “you’re alright. Now get up here, this instant.”

He grins, sweeping into a low bow before heading up the stairs. He opens the door to their quarters and is promptly yanked inside and into an embrace.

“Hello, Gwen,” he says softly, “it’s good to see you too.”

“Good to see—Merlin,” Gwen scolds, "you could’ve been hurt.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Gwen wipes her face and oh…oops.

“I’m alright Gwen,” he says quietly, “really.”

It’s late. It’s the middle of the night and it’s dark and Gwen just had to put on every single ounce of royal charm she has, and watch Merlin take a fall that would’ve killed pretty much everyone else. As he watches, her queenly mask starts to break as she keeps a hold of his sleeve, dragging him to the table and setting a plate of food aside, glaring at him.

“Are you hurt?”

“Not at all, my lady.”

“Don’t. Not now, Merlin. Not while I’m this worried.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he demurs, lifting his hands in surrender, “but really, Gwen, I’m not hurt. I’ve been practicing that spell, it won’t—“

“You’ve been practicing?” Merlin winces as Gwen draws herself up taller. “So you regularly throw yourself from great heights?”

“No, I just jump off my bed.”

“Off your bed?”

“The point is that I slow immediately when the spell takes effect,” Merlin says, “so I don’t need very much distance from the floor.”

She folds her arms and stares at him. “So what you’re saying is this is the first time you’ve done it from a great height and you weren’t sure it was going to work?”

Merlin’s hesitation gives her all the answers she needs.

“Gods, Merlin,” she mumbles, slumping into a chair and covering her face, “you’re going to scare me to death one of these days.”

“Nah. I’ll save you from that.”

“How, by doing some equally death-defying stunt?”

Merlin grins and takes her hand. “No. By not letting you see it.”

“Merlin…”

He relents, opening his arms and letting her give him another hug. He squeezes back firmly, trying to communicate that he’s here, he’s safe, and it’s okay.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Gwen whispers eventually, “and I’m glad that everything…worked out. We do need to make sure that the sorcerers no longer feel the need to live in fear…”

Merlin chuckles as he feels Gwen’s brow furrow against his shoulder, probably already drafting things to do.

“Not tonight, Your Majesty,” he scolds gently, pushing her toward the bed, “you need rest.”

“Mm.”

“Where’s Arthur?”

“Probably looking for you,” Gwen murmurs as she slides back beneath the covers, “so you have to stay up until he gets back.”

“…and so he can yell at me too, hmm?”

Gwen snuggles into her pillow and smiles.

4: Stab

So.

Uh, Merlin doesn’t really know how they got here this time.

Because—right, well, it’s not really a secret that Merlin is very close to both Gwen and Arthur. It’s just not. Anyone with a pair of eyes who can walk into Camelot and see them is going to figure it out. Even Uther realized it.

Merlin will never forget the way Arthur burst out laughing when he told him what Uther said to Merlin that day before the tournament, looking up with tears in his eyes and just managing to gasp: “you’re telling me that you and I got my father’s blessing before Gwen and I even started seeing each other?”

Yes. Yes, he is.

Anyway, the point is, Gwen, Merlin, Arthur, they’re very close.

Also something that should be fairly obvious to anyone who’s been to Camelot in the last little bit of time is that one: magic is legal. Two: Merlin is Court Sorcerer.

Get it? Wonderful. So.

The man who is currently holding Merlin hostage with a sword to his throat knows that Merlin is important to Gwen and Arthur. He doesn’t seem to realize that Merlin is Court Sorcerer.

How those two things are not the first two things he realized Merlin does not understand. Honestly, he’s going to chalk that up to why he’s too startled by the fact that he’s got people coming at him with a sword to do anything about it. The sheer inability of those facts to reconcile in his brain prevents him from taking any action.

Honestly, he’s still figuring that out. Enough so that it takes him a while to realize that Leon is desperately trying to signal him and ask if he’s alright.

He gives back the okay and Leon’s expression morphs into one of soft exasperation. To everyone else, it probably doesn’t look like Leon’s face has changed at all, but they haven’t spent several council meetings with the man trading insults only through shifts in micro-expressions.

It’s quite entertaining, especially when they start to get really, really creative.

Anyway. Sword. Throat. Yes.

He’s not sure why currently being held hostage. Someone who wants something, probably. That’s generally why people get taken hostage, right? The sword presses a little closer and Merlin makes an effort to focus.

“Do this,” Arthur warns, his own sword out, “and you will never leave Camelot alive.”

“What good is Camelot,” the man scoffs, “if it allows for the devilish act of witchcraft and sorcery that will poison it from the inside?”

“You’re wrong.”

“Maybe,” the man snarls, spittle flying from his lips, “but not nearly as stupid as you.”

Arthur glances at Merlin. Merlin nods.

“Let him go,” Arthur says again, “and this might yet end well.”

The man throws his head back and cackles, the sword nudging insistently at his throat. Merlin winces. That was loud.

“This won’t end well,” the man says through his giggles, “and you know it.”

“Then let him go.”

“Alright,” the man snickers, “but you’ll have to give me a head start.”

Gwaine snarls, even as Arthur holds firm.

“I make you no promises.”

“I know. That’s why I’m giving myself a head start.”

Merlin’s about to wonder what the hell that means only for the sword to drive into his stomach.

Ah. That’s not ideal.

He slumps to the ground as the man lets him go, hearing the screams from the servants gathered in the hall and the shouts from the knights. He feels the breeze as they rush past him, two remaining behind to immediately put pressure on the wound and get him upright, wrapping his stomach tightly and promising that he’s going to be alight.

“‘Lyan?”

“Yeah, Merlin,” Elyan mutters, “it’s me. Leon’s here too, we’ve got you.”

“You’ll be alright, yes?” Leon whips off the bloodied tunic. “You will be fine.”

“Sit m’ up.”

They do, propping him up against the wall as the servants quickly rush for Gaius, for hot water, for bandages. Someone—maybe Malwen—sets a bowl at Leon’s elbow, followed by the quick assurances that Gaius is on his way.

Merlin closes his eyes and concentrates, trying to remember the few times Gaius tried to teach him about basic anatomy. Listen, it’s not that he wasn’t paying attention, it’s just that he—

Yeah, no, he wasn’t paying much attention.

Listen, like…three different people were trying to kill Arthur that day. He was preoccupied.

Stab wound. Right.

Merlin takes a deep breath, ignoring the way the breath aches and wheezes as it travels into him, and starts to gently draw magic from the well in his chest toward the stab wound. He feeds it slowly, trying not to overexert himself, just enough to staunch and stop the bleeding until Gaius can get here.

Something clatters to the floor next to him and he barely looks over enough to see Arthur.

“Stay still,” Arthur murmurs frantically, fussing with his tunic, “you’ll be alright Merlin, I promise, you’re going to be alright.”

Merlin knows, but he’s busy right now, so he can’t really talk back.

“It’s going to be alright,” Arthur repeats, over and over, “Merlin, you’re going to be alright.”

He manages to look over, catching sight of Arthur’s hair a mess, his eyes wild, his mouth a hard line. Arthur glances up from his slightly trembling hands and catches his gaze, doing his best to put on a brave smile. He reaches out and cups Merlin’s face gently.

“It’s going to be alright,” he says softly, speaking as much to both of them as he can, “you’re going to be alright, Gaius will fix you up, and then I can worry about how to make sure you’re safe, so this never happens again.”

His mouth quirks when something flits across Merlin’s face.

“If you try and tell me you can take care of yourself,” he admonishes gently, “I am going to remind you that you currently have quite the stab wound.”

One that Merlin is handling quite well, actually, thank you very much.

“I know you’d rather it be you than us,” Arthur whispers, laying his forehead against Merlin’s, “but you—you can’t just let this happen to you, Merlin, you’ll…”

He swallows, his eyes drifting shut.

“…you’ll break my heart.”

A surge of magic shoots through Merlin at Arthur’s hushed confession, filling the wound with a burning glow. Merlin leans forward as much as he can, resting his own weight on the wall and on Arthur. Arthur holds him gladly, muttering that he can’t wait until Merlin’s better so he can scold him for being so reckless.

Well, when Merlin figures out how the man didn’t realize he was magic, he’ll have one hell of a defense. Who knows, Arthur might get a kick out of it too.

5: Plague

At some point, Merlin thinks as he heaves another stone out of the way, we’re going to stop coming across cursed objects. There has to be a limit. There just has to be.

This one has a plague attached to it because of course, it does. The entire citadel had been overrun with shadow demons that could only be seen by one person, everyone jumping at every little sound, unsure of whether they were seeing real people or the figments of their nightmares. What made things far worse is that some of them could be seen by multiple people and some of them couldn’t. So you could never be sure whether people would believe what you were seeing.

Someone called this the Plague of the Shadow Cat.

Gaius had gone into the books, trying to figure out a solution. Turns out the only way was to go to this cavern out in the middle of nowhere and destroy these four totems that allowed the Shadow Cat passage, in order to break the curse. The problem was that the cavern was in the middle of a massive forest that no one wanted to go close to.

Merlin had sighed and packed his bags.

As it turns out, the forest was designed to keep people out of it—reasonable—and used magic to twist someone’s fears to keep them at bay. You know what Merlin has? Magic.

It was easier than it would’ve been for anyone else, surely, which is good. What isn’t good is that Merlin still has to survive going through this massive forest. He’s had enough of dried meat and berries for a long time, thank you very much.

After about a day or two of walking and not getting lost, he’s just being thorough, he reaches the entrance of the cavern. It’s piled high with rocks from what looks like a collapse, and starts trying to get them out of the way. Unfortunately, most of his magic is going to keeping the nightmares at bay, meaning he can’t really risk using it to get these stones out of his way lest he let the nightmares in.

He’s had enough nightmares for a lifetime already.

He grunts as he heaves another one out of the way. Honestly. Is there a checklist he can look at with all the cursed objects in the world? They’ve got to be at least halfway done at this point, come on. It’s been years.

At last, he manages to get the stones out of the way and ventures into the cavern. Around the twists and turns he reaches the center, seeing the four totems. He snaps his fingers to create a light, peering at each one. It seems as if he’s just going to have to disenchant them. Well, that won’t be too hard.

And…it isn’t. Huh. That’s a little anti-climactic.

He’s sure if he had to battle his way past his greatest fears and the Shadow Cat was actually here fighting him, this would be a lot harder. But, it’s not, so here he is, all done. Now he just has to get back through the forest. Ugh.

Merlin rides back into Camelot to see the people in the streets, happy, content, not afraid. He smiles, letting their joy wash some of the forests off of him. He slides off Cara and puts her away, wiping her down and giving her as many treats as the stable master will let him. He makes it back inside, to Gaius’s chambers, ready to throw open the door triumphantly and announce he’s fixed it!

The second he opens it to see Gwen and Arthur he freezes.

“…hello.”

“Hello, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, and oh shit he’s in trouble, “did you travel well?”

“A little damp, if I’m being…” He trails off when Arthur shoots him a look. “Yes. I did.”

Arthur nods sharply, leaning against the table and folding his arms.

“The curse is broken,” he tries, letting the door shut behind him, “and I don’t think it’ll ever come back.”

“That’s good, Merlin,” Arthur says in a tone of voice that suggests anything but, “that’s very good.”

Merlin nods hesitantly, glancing at Gwen. Gwen doesn’t look back at him, her eyes fixed on the vase of flowers in front of her. She withdraws one and holds it gently in her hands, turning toward Merlin, expressionless. Merlin fights the urge to flinch as she finally looks up at him.

“Do you know,” she says and this time Merlin does flinch, Gwen’s never sounded that cold before, “what happened the last time you vanished without telling us?”

Merlin’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach.

Oh.

Oh, no.

“I’m sorry,” he says, starting forward, “I didn’t realize—I—“

“No, Merlin,” Gwen says, still cold, “you don’t realize.”

“We trust you, Merlin,” Arthur continues, “but that doesn’t mean that you can just leave, in the middle of a plague, on a mission that could get you killed without saying goodbye.”

“You don’t get to decide that it’s worth it,” Gwen says before Merlin can interrupt, “and you certainly don’t get to decide that we don’t deserve a chance to say goodbye.”

Merlin deflates, their words striking his chest with such ferocity that for a moment, he wonders if this is the fear he’s meant to face. “I’m…I’m sorry, I just…I knew I could do it.”

He closes his eyes. “I have to protect Camelot, protect you.”

“We know, Merlin,” Gwen says, her voice finally softening just a little, “but you don’t realize that we have to protect you too.”

Arthur walks forward, lifting Merlin’s chin. Merlin stares at him, desperately wanting Arthur to smile. Something.

“You’re the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth,” Arthur says instead, “but you’re still our Merlin. So we worry.”

“I know.”

“So,” Arthur says, giving him a gentle nudge, “don’t do that.”

“You may be nearly immortal, but we’re not,” Gwen adds, coming over to take his hand too, “and you will give us more reason to stress than any of the things you stop put together.”

Merlin looks back and forth between the two of them. “So you’re not…angry?”

“Oh, of course we are.”

Merlin winces, only for Arthur to pull him into a tight hug, his head tucking over Merlin’s shoulder.

“Completely furious,” he murmurs, nuzzling into Merlin’s neck, “aren’t we, Gwen?”

“Absolutely.” Merlin feels Gwen wrap her arms around him as well. “Totally and utterly furious.”

Merlin wriggles halfheartedly in their grasp. “I’m not getting out of this anytime soon, am I?”

“No. This is your punishment. Stay put.”

“…fine.”

+1: Cold

“No, Arthur,” Merlin grunts, shoving the prat back into bed, “stay, I will get you the soup.”

Arthur pouts, looking every bit a sad golden puppy in his read blanket as Merlin bustles about the room. “I can stand, Merlin.”

“No, you can’t, you’re sick. Now shush and eat.”

From the other room comes a sneeze that is far too close to the door.

“Gwen, you’d better be in bed when I come in there!”

He hears the quick pitter-patter of footsteps as he crosses the room to the other chambers, hands on his hips as Gwen glances up, guiltily letting the covers drop on top of her.

“I’m in bed,” she says, holding up her hands, “see?”

“Yes, I can see,” Merlin huffs, “but you have to stay there. You’re sick.”

“It’s just a cold, Merlin, I’m—I’m—“

Gwen is cut off by another spectacular sneeze.

“…handkerchief?”

Merlin rolls his eyes and offers her one, watching as she blows her nose and shakes out her curls. If Arthur’s the puppy, she’s the kitten, startling herself with the force of her own sneezes.

“What were you so desperate to get out of bed for?”

“The book on my desk,” Gwen mumbles, reaching for it, “I wanted to—“

“Keep working.”

“No!” At Merlin’s knowing look, she makes a face. “…maybe.”

Merlin sighs. “I will get you a book, but you promised you wouldn’t try to work like this.”

“But I’m fine.”

“Yes, and I notice your sneezes didn’t interrupt you this time.”

“Merlin, I am alright.”

“Yes, so let’s have you stay in bed and rest until you’re better, hmm?”

He hears a clang from the other room. He narrows his eyes at Gwen who blinks innocently at him. Without breaking eye contact, he waves his hand.

“Hey!”

“Get your arse back in bed, sire.”

“I’m fine, Merlin.”

Merlin raises his eyebrows at Gwen. “Will you stay while I get your husband back in bed, please?”

“…if you bring me the book on the desk, I will.”

Merlin glances over and waves his hand. Gwen’s poetry book—not her work book—flies into his hand and he gives it to her.

“All yours.”

“Merlin, that’s not—“

“You surely weren’t trying to work were you?” He raises his eyebrows. “Because that would be a bad idea.”

Gwen pops open the book and buries her nose in it. “…thank you, Merlin.”

“You are most welcome. Now you,” he announces, striding back to see Arthur trying to open the now magically locked door, “will go back to bed.”

“Gaius said we were fine, Merlin,” Arthur pouts, “so we can go.”

“Gaius also said that I was in charge, so you’ll go back to bed.”

“Well, I’m the King.”

“And I’m the Court Sorcerer.” Merlin lifts his hand, letting a little of his magic swirl around his hand. “Which means you should get back in bed.”

“Threatening a king is treason, Merlin.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m sure the knights would be thrilled,” Merlin replies dryly, shooing Arthur back to bed, “now you will stay put.”

He doesn’t quite swaddle Arthur in the blanket but it is a close thing. Arthur just grumbles a little, reaching out and grabbing Merlin’s tunic and dragging him down onto the bed too. “Then you stay.”

“I have to get your medicine.”

“Have the guards do it.” Arthur snuggles into his tunic. “You stay.”

Merlin resigns himself to his fate, curling around his king. Arthur rumbles happily, nuzzling into Merlin’s neck.

“That’s the last time I let you two go out for picnics in the moonlight,” Merlin grumbles to himself, “look at what’s happened to you.”

“Now you know how we feel,” Arthur mumbles sleepily.

“You realize that we are now even for all of the things I’ve done, then.”

“Oh, no. Not even close.”

“Shut up and go to sleep, sire.”

#merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur fic #gwen #arthur pendragon #fic #dragonbabbles

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kickassfu · 3 years

Text

Merthur Zombie AU - Angst/Fluff/Humor/Implied Sexual Content

It's also on AO3

I’m your home, you’re my heart

Skin rotting, sloughing from the slow moving bodies, dropping to the floor in clumps. The smell of decay permeating the streets, clinging to everything in sight, clogging the air to make it barely breathable.

The world is dying. The world is dead. Well, mostly. It’s hard to forget the state of...everything, but in here with both of them tangled together by the fire, it’s almost easy to pretend the world remains unchanged.

They’ve grown so accustomed to the sound of grunts and body parts being dragged down the asphalt, that it’s more like white noise at this point. It’s quiet, just them two hugging each other as hard as possible, listening to each other’s breaths and their hearts beating slow and steady, to the crackle of the fire.

It’s to preserve body heat, they used to spout as a truly terrible excuse, but the world is broken beyond repair and so are they, no point in lying about their reasons now. About how they craved someone else’s touch, their warmth, the feeling of being alive, safe, not completely and utterly alone. Someone else, anybody else, turned into wanting each other and nobody else.

You’d think the sex would’ve come later, as they fell deeper into one another, but no, right from the start it became something to do, something else to lose themselves in. To feel good. It was frantic and fast, the adrenaline and the fear mingling into a weird cocktail that made them orgasm quick and hard; it was never enough.

It’s different now. They take their time, with questing hands and lips: Arthur taking Merlin apart finger by finger, following along the highs and lows of his body until he’s breathlessly shaking; Merlin wrecking Arthur slowly and surely, biting down his body, licking and soothing the marks he imprints into his skin as Arthur gasps, tears in his eyes, hands in Merlin’s hair. It is not sex for the sake of sex, it is the culmination of all their feelings turned physical. It is the growth from hatred, to annoyance, to fondness, to trust, to love, to an absolute need for the other.

It’s love made real.

“What are you thinking about?” Merlin whispers, unwilling to break the quiet, but wanting to hear Arthur’s voice anyway. Arthur’s hands are drawing circles on his back, his lips grazing his ear, sometimes drifting away to drop kisses on his neck and jaw, it feels good, peaceful.

“I’m thinking about how it was before.”

“Before what?” Merlin asks, purposefully obtuse. It’s silly that Arthur can never bring himself to talk about the end of the fucking world directly. The before, complete rubbish. He can almost feel Arthur roll his eyes, as he sighs into Merlin’s neck, it’s sort of adorable and Merlin sort of loves him.

“Before I was unluckily saddled with saving your skinny arse.”

Merlin snorts.

“What are you laughing about? It’s true,” Arthur sounds offended, but his fondness is too clear in his tone.

“You are a lovely man, Arthur. Besides the pratishness and haughtiness, but that’s grown on me by now. But I feel like it’s more me saving you than the other way around.”

Kissing Merlin’s brow, a smile on his beautifully sculpted face (scars and all), Arthur says “Fine, you’ve twisted my arm, you may have saved me a couple of times. Not as many as I’ve saved you, but I’ll grant you your delusions.”

Merlin kicks him for that, which only makes Arthur laugh, loud and heartily - it makes him shine, and it’s almost impossible to look away. So he doesn’t even try. He just stares, taking it all in, trying to commit to memory every line and wrinkle of Arthur’s face, how his eyes crinkle, how long his neck is. Because even though Merlin would never let anything happen to Arthur, would rather die than lose him, life doesn’t always give you what you want. And nowadays life is more unforgiving than it used to be. It just takes one moment to lose it all, to lose Arthur. No matter what, Merlin never wants to forget him.

Arthur shakes him out of his thoughts, quite literally, “Nearly lost you there, penny for your thoughts?”

“Well, I don’t really want to say it, wouldn’t want you getting a bigger head. The room is small enough as it is.”

“Which head though?” Arthur asks, wiggling his eyebrows in the least seductive way Merlin has ever witnessed.

“That was awful, you’re awful. I’m finding another partner. Do you think I could find myself a dashing zombie to fall for my charms?”

The unimpressed look Arthur is sending his way plus the disbelief in his voice as he asks, “What charms?” makes Merlin realize that no one would ever know if he murdered Arthur in cold blood. And even if anyone does find out, what are they going to do? Throw him in a nonexistent prison? Yeah, no, he’s free as a bird to do as he pleases.

“Are you busy plotting my demise? I was only kidding, you have plenty of charms.”

“Like what?”

“Uh…”

“You’re a prat.”

Laughing once again, Arthur crushes him in a tighter hug, “You’re a better cook than I am, that’s a charm of yours.”

“I’m not your servant you know? That’s not a charm, that’s me being useful.”

“Touchy touchy.” he jokes and then starts kissing Merlin’s face as he speaks, punctuating each sentence with another kiss “You’re funny, and smart, and braver than anyone I’ve ever met. Pretty resourceful as well. Maybe a tad too stubborn, but so am I, so it balances us out. Your ears are ridiculously endearing and I could get lost in your eyes for hours, but it’s your smile that kills me. Any zombie would be lucky to have you, but please don’t leave. You’re my home, Merlin.”

Tears are definitely not running down his face, Merlin refuses it, no. It’s not happening. Fuck.

“Fuck. Have you been writing that in your spare time? Bloody hell, since when have you been able to put your feelings so eloquently into words? You’re just trying to make me cry, you big, uh, dollophead.”

It’s not like Merlin doesn’t know Arthur loves him, but he uses his words sparingly, always has, since the beginning. Even the physical tenderness took its time (the sex doesn’t count, it wasn’t tender at all). Getting to hear these words from Arthur’s lips, as he looks at Merlin as if he’s the most precious thing he’s ever held in his arms, is enough to leave him a trembling mess. He’s not alone in it, he can feel Arthur’s hands shake, the nerves ebbing away slowly. Even though he joked about it, he’s sure Arthur did rehearse this, or at least thought about it obsessively until he felt ready to actually say it.

“You’re an idiot.” he says, wiping Merlin’s tears with his thumb, kissing his eyelids, holding him through it.

“I’m your idiot. You idiot.”

“Does that make me your idiot too?”

“Yes, you’re also my idiot. My beautiful, wonderful, idiot.” he says, patting Arthur’s face patronizingly.

“You can stop calling me an idiot any time now, thank you.”

“Just needed to be sure you knew it.” Merlin smiles, his dimples showing up.

“I must be one, if I’m with you.”

“That doesn’t work as well as usual after you’ve confessed your undying love for me, you know?”

“Lapse in judgement and all that rot. I’m fine now.”

“Well, too bad you’re stuck with me.”

“Yes, too bad. Woe is me.”

Sighing, Merlin closes his eyes and hides his face in Arthur’s neck, trying to breathe him in, so he’ll always have part of him inside his body, “I love you, you know? Lord knows why, but I do.”

“How romantic. Want to try that again?”

“No, not really.”

“Merlin.”

Rolling his eyes, (because seriously, it’s not like you can force these types of confessions out of people) Merlin let his feelings flow out, his voice wavering, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. I don’t know what I’d do without you, honestly. You said I was your home, but you’re my heart, so please don’t- just don’t die ok? Don’t you dare leave me here without a heart, pretty sure I can’t live without one of those.”

If there’s something Arthur doesn’t do is cry, not when he’s speaking of before the world went to shit, not when speaking about the people he’s lost, not when speaking about his complicated relationship with a harsh and disconnecting father. Arthur doesn’t cry.

It’s a day of firsts, Merlin supposes.

Because Arthur is crying, but he’s not a mess like Merlin was, the tears are falling quietly as he tries to rein them in. He looks as surprised as Merlin feels.

There’s nothing else to do, except to kiss him, softly, tenderly, lovingly.

To pour out all he feels into this one touch.

To soothe him.

To love him.

They lose themselves in each other’s arms, taking what they want, giving what they can. The words spoken only heightening their feelings and ecstasy, making everything take on a desperate edge that had long since been gone.

I love you, I love you, I love you, they whisper as their bodies move in tandem.

It’s only natural that they fall asleep once they’re done, the moment charged with too much emotion, leaving them tired and sated and happily sleepy.

Their worries left for another day, another time, as they cuddle to sleep. The morning light won’t make things alright but they have each other, and that’s enough. Merlin has to believe that’s enough. That things will be ok as long as he has Arthur.

Arthur is his hope for a brighter future.

#merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #merlin fanfiction #mine #my ficlets

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arthur-rex · 3 years

Text

TAGS for this post

#i adore this!!#the colours!!!! go green team!!!!!#i love how you formatted this: two influences on the core four that in the end they ultimately have to choose between #merlin's is interesting though because even though he becomes a slave to destiny he never forgets his mum #(although we DESERVED more s4-5 hunith content) #maybe after camlann merlin was finally able to find peace... it's unlikely but we can always hope #green team 😎💚💚

@oswinsdolma ...aww Ellie. Come here. Let me hug you.

Yes, now then. Your tags are precisely what I’m talking about with that piece. The choices we make between advice given and how WE CHOOSE to act upon it are critical.

But we must get into the habit of accepting responsibility for our actions.

Many people in this fandom (I have noticed) are choosing to hate on certain characters as if to absolve their favourite characters of blame for their actions. Errr, no. It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid. Merlin, Arthur and co. when they fuck up THEY fuck up THEMSELVES.

It’s actually damaging to externalise that frustration and place it onto the Dragon or to Uther (he’s a messed up human being but he’s not the Devil people), or to blame anyone else for the decisions our favourite characters choose to make for themselves. It’s not the mature approach.

And c’mon, let’s be honest with ourselves. The reason why we are all attached to certain characters is because they remind us subconsciously of real people (or wanted people) in our lives. There, I’ve said. We’re all doing it. Subconsciously for some, actively for others. My people of fixation are Merlin, Gwen and Morgana for entirely different reasons. I RP as Arthur because my life most resembles his minus a crown he is the one that interacts with these three the most, and in the most meaningful ways.

Now. your points. Yes, Merlin needed more time with Hunith. He definitely did, and I think the majority of the Merlin fandom from what I can make out (self-made confident young women / maybe single mothers?) needed to and would have appreciated more Hunith time too as well.

Yes, Merlin became a slave to Destiny... but Destiny does in this case, (in my hc at least) have an answer to all of this. I am writing Avalon fic this evening. I am going to have Arthur rise again as the Prophets foretold. There is no point in writing/continuing Arthur’s journey post-Camlann if I’m going to be brutally honest, unless we do this. Just to repeat the canon verse model again in another modern verse (or verses) without an endgame is just... well. It’s not daring to be different and brave and new. It’s not the story I want to write anyway.

Good luck to other Arthur writers if that is the case. I sincerely mean that; if you get closure by having the same thing happening to Merthur again that’s fine and valid. But there is another way. It’s traumatic and transforming and full of angst like you would expect from those two, but it has hope and a bit of comedy thrown in there to balance the tone out. And I’m sure when I get on ao3 I will spot other writers who will have done a similar idea to this too (but I haven’t started consuming any fanfic really yet)

Anyway, this is just wordy old writer me here, keeping positive despite the increased amounts of hate I’m seeing on my dash (you have a problem with the Beatles, really? They were singing about unconditional love, the authorities shot John Lennon dead because he was urging for peace over war, he married a POC woman and gave her agency you gonna hate on a man like that??? What the-)

Anyway. Remember to still be kind to the people who hate you. It’s the hardest thing to do, but actually, hateful people cannot stand being met with people who are not mean and spiteful back. It exposes them as bullies. I’m talking about my RL family who hate me, relaaax Tumblr followers and friends.

Take care all.

#OOC #//just putting in some gifs because #//I do that #//thank you for listening to my Ted Talk

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dont-be-an-idiot-merlin · 4 years

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Look away by Eli Lieb and Steve Grand is a song and a half, it has Merthur and Morgwen feels, as well as Merwaine feels AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

aaaaAAAAAAA IM CRYING

Yes! I can see this being all three of these ships jsjsjs

So for Morgwen, at first it’s about Morgana turning against Camelot and how Gwen couldn’t stand with Morgana on that decision. They’re both upset and miss each other and wish they could’ve been together but it just didn’t work out, their morals differing vastly, and yet they still long for one another. Maybe towards the end, Gwen hears of Morgana’s death and she still feel heartbreak despite the things Morgana has done. Oh the feels...

For Merthur, I can see it in two different ways.

1) being that Arthur pushes his feeling down for Merlin and marries Gwen (or worse, Arthur doesn’t reciprocate Merlin’s feelings) and Merlin sometimes finds himself self still looking a Arthur with want, and he feels bad because Gwen and Arthur are his friends and he shouldn’t be feeling this way; or vice versa where Arthur, even tho he married Gwen, still sometimes longs for Merlin and he feels shameful for thinking of someone else when married and he doesn’t think Merlin likes him anyway and just angst all around really.

2) it’s after Arthur’s death. Arthur’s last word we’re “I love you” bc screw canon, and Merlin is just sobbing wishing they could’ve had more time together. They with had plenty of their moments but it was never enough. They never kissed, or hugged (at least not one Merlin can remember), they never openly confessed their feelings, and they never got the chance. Agh angst😭

Now Merwaine!

Oh goodness there are so many ways this could go. One sided pining on Gwaine’s end for one. Just him wanting Merlin so bad, but he’s just out of reach. Another idea I’m getting is maybe they tried to be in a relationship, they loved each other, but either it just doesn’t work out with Merlin always putting destiny first, or...well...Gwaine’s death. Just- just Merlin hearing of Gwaine’s death and just immediately sobbing. Especially since he’d have gotten the news after Arthur dying. It would be so much for him, and not having Gwaine there to be behind him for support would just break him. I cant-jsjsjs

All in all, I love this song??? Thanks for recommending it to me, as it is now in my sad jams™️ playlist💀 Seriously, i love sad songs more than anything. Now excuse me as I go cry over these angst ideas I’ve given myself-

#donts says stuff #...a lot of stuff actually #lmao #merthur #merwaine #morgwen #song rec

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pjoseries · 4 years

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..... ✨💞 (I need the blog compliment at this point my ego just took a hit) Prompt: "Nobody's seen you in days" I still better cry. Literally almost forgot to say the ship again. Anyways... I want merthur

🥰 reilly my og mutual, followed me from my 1d days 😤 to my 35826337 million blogs. what an icon tbh!!! you are truly the funniest person on this site hands down. i scroll down ur blog sometimes just to see ur tags bc i always need a good laugh HDHSJSHS thank u for being u 🥺

✨ "Nobody’s seen you in days.” (ao3 link)

(canon au, no arwen, 4x06 in arthur’s pov)

══════════════════

For the first time in days ever since Merlin disappeared, Arthur finally fell asleep in his bed, exhausted and weary. But when he did, he dreamt in red, the sky a glazed crimson as if the gods themselves were bleeding, crying out at the impiety below them. He was kneeling, his Pendragon cape sprawled over a lump in the mud. A hand was the only thing visible, stark and pale. Lifeless. He knew whose hand that belonged to — how could he not? He had seen that hand dress him, feed him, heal him. He had seen that hand (those hands) in better dreams than this. Arthur reached out, trembling as he hovered over the cloth.

But before he could reveal the man beneath it, Arthur bolted upwards in his bed, breathing heavily. He wouldn’t sleep. Couldn’t. Not again.

He stared out his window, watching the moon hang lowly in the sky. It looked duller than usual, the thin haze of grey covering its shine. He pushed his sweaty hair out from his forehead and got up, the chill of the room seeping into his bones. The cold ground beneath him stung his feet, but it felt like a welcome from the heat he felt.

He hadn’t let a servant tend to the fire in his chambers ever since Merlin left. It didn’t feel right. As he moved, his eyes caught a glimpse of his cape hanging over his folding screen and he grimaced. He stalked over and grabbed the cape before shoving it away from his vision. He lit up a candle and headed back towards his desk. There was no use in trying to go back to sleep. Grabbing a piece of spare parchment, ink and quill, and a map of Albion, he set out to listing all the places Merlin could be again. He worked through the night until dawn broke and Guinevere entered his chambers with breakfast. She was the only one he let in nowadays.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she noted with a hint of disapproval, setting down his plate away from the mess on his desk. She could no doubt see the fatigue in his eyes. “Arthur, you know it’s not healthy to—”

“Thank you, Guinevere,” he interrupted. She closed her mouth with a snap and guilt welled up inside him. He continued anyway, “For breakfast.”

She grabbed his hand with hers and he looked up. There was a solemn look in her gaze that made him soften. She said, “You’re my friend, Arthur. And you know that I want Merlin back as much as you do, but ruling the kingdom like this isn’t good for finding Merlin, let alone Camelot.”

Truth rang in her words and it hurt at how much she was right. He pressed a kiss to her thumb and sighed.

“I know,” he spoke plainly, as she released his hand. “Thank you. Truly. Your council means a great deal to me.”

He rubbed his eyes, as if trying to wipe away his exhaustion. Guinevere nodded and left him on his own. He ate, barely tasting the food in his mouth before he got dressed for another day. His fingers clumsily laced up his trousers and tunic, shoving his boots on without any fanfare. The space where Merlin should be was a gaping wound and Arthur was enough of a man to admit that he’d rather deal with the emptiness rather than employ another servant to do Merlin’s job.

His councilmen were more frustrating than usual without Merlin’s quick witted whispered barns behind him. But when his knights and uncle came back, congregating in front of him, a spark of hope flared in his chest. They looked at each other warily before Agravaine said, “We have scoured the forest.”

“Scour it again,” he ordered, but Leon glanced at him with kind eyes.

“Sire, there is no sign of Merlin,” Leon said. Agravaine came forward, his footsteps echoing the throne room like a warning sign. Arthur rubbed his temples, feeling world-weary of it all.

“None, but this,” his uncle said before he placed a bloodied piece of cloth on top of his map. From Merlin’s jacket. Arthur stared at it blankly, any semblance of hope had disappeared. Agravaine continued, “I’m sorry you have lost such a loyal and—”

Arthur raised his hand, stopping the pitying words falling from his uncle’s mouth. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath, wringing his hands together. It was weak to look so concerned in front of all his men, but Arthur didn’t care anymore. He asked, “The mercenaries, what news of them?”

“We found no trace, sire,” Leon reported, shifting on his feet.

“Surely sent by that snake, Alinor,” Agravaine said, moving behind him.

“It can’t be,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “How? Our route was known only to a few within Camelot.”

“Then there is only one conclusion we can draw,” Leon added. “We have a traitor in our midst.”

The weight of Leon’s words weighed heavily on his heart. Another traitor. When will Arthur be rid of those who betrayed him?

Arthur convened council and headed back towards his chambers, already forming a plan in his head to scour the damn forests himself to search for Merlin. He finally fell asleep, his dreams still tainted red, but Merlin wasn’t dead yet. His cape was back on his shoulders and Merlin was slow to respond, but his chest moved with barely visible breath. And even in that hellscape, Arthur was relieved.

He woke up in a daze the next day, only one mission in mind. He fielded off Guinevere’s concerns as he was leaving, mounting his horse in a smooth movement. Gwaine was with him. Usually, the pinch of jealousy Arthur always held when Merlin and Gwaine interacted flared up, but now it was absent. He was just glad that Merlin had Gwaine’s deep loyalty.

They rode off out of Camelot and into the woods. They were a good half hour into their search, Gwaine’s inane chattering filling his ears when Arthur heard a sound, a groan. He stopped, holding out a hand for Gwaine to pause as well.

The sound was distinctly human and both he and Gwaine dismounted, Arthur unsheathing his sword in an instant. He walked forward, his weapon at his side at the ready. He ordered, “Declare yourself.”

A man, muddied up, walked out. Arthur raised his sword, squinting to get a better look. The man laughed and it rang in his ears, familiar and warm and so happy. Arthur’s eyes widened and he couldn’t help the surprised “Merlin!” that escaped his chest.

Merlin laughed again, grinning stupidly and Arthur felt the world being righted once again. Arthur walked forward, Merlin doing the same, as he plunged his sword into the ground.

“I thought we’d lost you,” he breathed out, smiling as stupidly as Merlin was. He didn’t mind that Merlin was dirty and smelled like the mess he crawled out of, he just pulled him into a hug. He said, softer now, “Nobody’s seen you in days.”

“Sorry,” Merlin said, hugging him back just as tightly. Arthur almost scoffed. Only an idiot would apologise for being hurt and stranded alone. It should be him to apologise for leaving him like that, defenceless and wounded.

He let go and said instead, cheeks hurting from smiling so widely, “Let’s go home.”

══════════════════

ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴍʏ 600 ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀs ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

#merthur #merthur fanfiction #merlin x arthur #merlin fic #f: merlin #p: merthur #*#my writing #alyssa's 600 #reilly tag #t: ask #ryekat #je réponds #la poste #fic: missing half of me

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hydra-collector · 5 years

Text

Bruises Don’t Bleed

Voila! A fic! A Merlin fic!

Pairing: Merthur, could be taken as platonic Characters: Merlin, Arthur, mention of Gaius Words: 1,736 Summary: Merlin does self-harm, Arthur tries to help. TW: Self-harm, cursing, self-deprecating thoughts, death mention, almost panic attack

Notes: I’ll read self-harm fics, but they’re pretty much only cutting, which is something I can’t relate to. I wanted to write a self-harm fic that I could relate to more.

It’s fine. It means nothing. Sure, it hurts, but you’re perfectly fine, at worst frustrated at Arthur.

You’re just…

Merlin’s foot tapped hard on the floor. He was fine. Nothing to worry about. Nothing for anyone to worry about. The bruises scattered across his arms and hands meant nothing. He’d always been taught that pain was blood. This wasn’t blood, therefore, not pain.

Stupid, that’s it, stupid.

Harder. Hit harder.

It hurts.

It hurts cause you’re stupid.

His mind was fuzzy and scattered, packed with thoughts and emotions that shouldn’t be there. He needed to feel something to drive them away. Arthur’s resistance to touch meant… that feeling was usually pain.

There’s gotta be something he hadn’t done, there always is. Arthur always had something for him to do. He couldn’t just be here, sitting around, whacking his stupid self with a stupid spoon. So what hadn’t he done? He’d done the room, clothes, boots, armor-

Stables?

Arthur had asked him. Of course. The matter now is finding a place to hide his spoon. Arthur had found the last utensil, a fork, inside a cupboard. Fork was better.

Bang bang goes your head on the table.

He finally willed himself to stand up, the world suddenly rushing back in. He was tired. He was tired a lot.

Just hide the spoon and do the stables.

Right, focus. Arthur might be back soon, and if Merlin wasn’t doing work… well, he’d be much more stressed out than he already was. Where could he put the spoon? Under the bed’s too easily seen. Cupboard was discovered. Closet’s too big, he didn’t want to lose it again and have to steal more utensils. Somewhere he could remember, somewhere Arthur wouldn’t look…

The floor. The floor was good. He could pry up a board, lot of them were pretty weak anyway. Yeah, he’d do that.

Be quick, Arthur’ll come soon.

Merlin found a loose one in the corner near Arthur’s cabinet. Maybe loose enough to pry up with his hands.

It was an ordeal resulting in at least three splinters, but he was hurting anyway, what’s some extra pain? He decided to get them out before hiding the spoon, though. Gaius was bound to notice if his hand was bleeding in several places.

This was a mistake.

Ice shot up Merlin’s body as a familiar voice echoed his name dangerously close to the door. The open door.

You’re anxious about everything, but forget to close the door? While hiding something? You’re more of a useless, stupid bitch than you ever imagined-

His mind would have continued ridiculing itself if not for the impending approach of Arthur’s footsteps. Panic rose in his chest as he pulled down his shirt sleeve, trying to stuff the spoon in the floor simultaneously.

“What are you doing?”

Wanting to die-

“Uh, I, well, you see,” he tried desperately for an excuse. “I was, um, checking the floorboards.”

Why would you say that? What does that even mean?

Arthur’s gaze became more confounded as he stared at Merlin, who was tugging at his sleeve, nervous.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning the stables?”

“Yeah, well, I thought that the floorboards would need… checking. They’re old, you know. Got to make sure they don’t fall apart.”

“If you’re trying to check the floorboards to make sure they don’t break, you’re probably not going to help it by stomping your foot.”

Stupid.

He flinched from his internal abuse, hoping Arthur wouldn’t notice. It seems that it wouldn’t matter if he did, though, as he had begun to walk over to Merlin’s incomplete hiding spot.

Oh god the spoon the spoon the spoon-

“Wait-”

Merlin said this with no plan of an excuse. He managed to fumble out a few sounds, but nothing to convince Arthur to stop. So he grabbed his wrist.

It stopped Arthur with the sudden contact, but at that point he could already see the torn up floorboard. He picked up the spoon.

“Merlin, I will be absolutely amazed if you have a valid reason you were trying to put a spoon in the floor.”

“I, uh, dropped it when I was looking for woodworms. Yeah.” He’d already used that exuse, but it’d have to do.

“You were using a spoon to look for woodworms?”

Merlin tried to argue back, but his tapping foot, shaking body, and hand curled tightly around Arthur’s wrist discounted any lies he tried to tell.

Arthur looked down at the slender hand grasping his wrist and Merlin instantly let go. What on earth could be going on with Merlin? What- what- what-

“What’s wrong with you?”

Merlin’s breath nearly cut off. The voices in his head were joined by another, one that was sure to be true. Arthur had said it, it must have been true. There was something wrong with him, he was worthless, useless, stupid, and grasping his arms tight enough for the bruises to feel.

Bruises are better than bleeding. They’re like inconspicuous pain buttons.

“Merlin-” Arthur began to speak, but Merlin’s wide eyes warned him not to. Instead, he took Merlin’s hand gently, guiding him to sit down. Merlin flinched at the touch to his raw bruises, but said nothing.

Arthur looked down to where he was holding Merlin’s cold fingers. “What’s on your hand?”

And of course, Merlin pulled away, whispering a ‘nothing’. This is the wrong decision, like it always is, and only aroused more suspicion from Arthur. He took back Merlin’s arm, rolling up the sleeve.

Damn, that hurt. Couldn’t he be a bit gentler?

“What the hell happened?”

Merlin’s arm was covered in blue and purple bruises. Any touch to them would hurt. His arms would try to heal, but then only be exposed to more abuse. It was a never-ending cycle of constant pain. He wondered how much he’d really been hitting himself.

Arthur’s hand was far too rough on his skin, but warm. He’d developed an automatic aversion to touching his arms, so they were never warm. He relaxed into the touch, despite the pain.

“It must be all that violent training you do. Y’know, hitting me with a mace through a shield.”

“Are you sure that could make these kinds of bruises? They’re… everywhere.”

Merlin felt his cover slipping. It had already, but now it felt like the spoon battering his soul along with being revealed.

But… would it be so bad?

Yes. Yes it would. Arthur couldn’t know, because then he wouldn’t be able to do it.

That’s my point. Do you really want to keep hurting?

“Well, if it is all that training, you’re probably fine. You’re not bleeding or anything. The knights can deal with it, you’re not that much weaker than them,” Arthur said, barely believing it. He didn’t want to believe that Merlin wasn’t okay.

His mind swarmed with more evil words. Worthlessness.

I… I don’t think I do.

“I’m not fine.”

“I’m not fine, Arthur.”

Merlin stood and retrieved the spoon.

“I did this to myself. I’m not fine.”

“Bleeding… does not equal pain. I’m not fine.” And he repeated it, that he wasn’t fine, each round making him feel it. He wasn’t fine, and that was the way it was. It wasn’t okay just because no blood showed, it wasn’t okay lying to himself about why. He wasn’t frustrated at his job or Arthur, he was frustrated at himself. Hated himself. Feared himself. Feared he might hurt others, kill others. Kill himself.

And he cried. Like anybody would, coming to face that they need and want help. Wanting to feel more than cold metal on bruises.

Arthur obliged to Merlin’s thoughts. He pulled Merlin from his chair and sat him on the bed, wrapping his arms around his middle, making sure not to touch his arms. Merlin hugged back, burying his wet face into Arthur’s shoulder.

They sat there, neither prepared to talk, just content to hold each other. Neither had to think, worry, do anything.

“What- what’s going on, Merlin?”

Merlin’s eyes let out more tears, but in a few minutes, he answered.

“I- I don’t want you to think this is your fault,” Merlin began in a muffled voice, “but I need… help. Every little task is too much. I have to do it perfectly, or it’s worthless. I’m worthless.”

Deep breath. It’s okay now, Arthur’s here.

“It started years and years ago, when I was a kid. My family had to keep me a secret, and that got stressful. Every conversation with someone was hiding something from them, the chance that they’d find out. Every wrong word could blow our cover, and it would all be my fault. As I got older, it got better, it got okay. And, eventually, I thought it was gone. I… was wrong. Please understand that this isn’t your fault, but it got worse when I started to work for you. I had to keep my magic a secret from you, and I just constantly wished that I didn’t have to. It was so much. And I had to constantly do tasks and do them correctly and any mistake could lose me my job. Make me lose you. I promised myself that I would keep you okay,” Merlin paused, “but I forgot about myself.”

Again, he started to cry, holding on tight to Arthur. The bruises hurt on his arms, but that didn’t even matter at this point. Arthur was here, he was safe. He felt a warm hand stroke his hair, letting Merlin sink into Arthur even more. Right now, he didn’t have to worry. He didn’t have to hit himself with cold metal to feel. Right now, he felt Arthur.

“I know you said it wasn’t my fault, but I did hurt you. I gave you task after task because it’s what you were supposed to be doing, but I ignored that... you’re a human, too. I ignored how you might feel. And I ignored how serious,” Arthur took Merlin’s hand, gently stroking the bruises, “this was.”

Merlin wanted to tell him how much he loved him, appreciated what he’d said and done, but words couldn’t form over a mix of happy, sad, and anxious tears. Instead, he hugged tighter. With every minute that passed, a bit of his bruised soul felt a little better.

Now, there was nothing expected of him.

No pressure.

No more spoons.

It’s- it’s

“It’s okay, Merlin.”

#any other tws?#merlin #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #merthur #murthur #idk i saw someone spell it like that #merlin tv #idk ooookkkkkk #ol korrect?#self harm fic #fanfiction #gray's fanfic #merlin fanfiction #tw self harm #is this how it works am i doing this right #never a wrong time to quote steven universe #grays fics

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elysiumwaits · 4 years

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WIP it, WIP it good!

I was tagged by @gideongrace a bit ago and just remembered it today, so here are 10 facts/phrases about my current emotional catharsis Harringrove WIP (although I do have like three Stereks, another couple of Harringroves, two Steters, a Merthur, and moooore).

Rules: list 10 words/phrases that have something to do with your work(s) in progress.

1. I forgot that Steve graduates before Season 3 and I’m lazy and already like 5k words in so he’s repeating his senior year, which is fine and leads to more hurt/comfort anyway

2. It’s literally just all hurt/comfort

3. It was already really canon divergence cause Billy’s in it after season 3 sooo...

4. Billy needed a hug, and so did Steve, and now they’re gonna hug each other

5. Soft boys being soft with each other

6. Two fucked up people trying to be less fucked up together

7. Dyslexia research! So much.

8. I finally get to use “Fool’s Gold” by Briston Maroney for something when it’s been on my playlist nonstop for literal months now. It’s my most listened-to song of 2019, and it’s gunning for 2020 already.

9. Deals with that lock on the outside of Billy’s door.

10. Billy keeps sneaking in Steve's window as the months go on.

Okay, tagging folks. Uh. No pressure if you don’t want to do it!

@cameorabbit @evanesdust @novemberhush @midnightwinterhawk @wickedlydevious and anyone else who sees this and wants to, sorry if I missed you!

#wip #tag games

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cupcakezys · 5 years

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To Find Love Among The Stars.

Written for the Merthur Touch Fest by @arthur-of-the-pendragons.

So this didn't really end up the way I wanted it to when this was a little nugget of an idea in my mind, but I think it's alright all the same? I hope you enjoy anyway! :D

Read on AO3.

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur.

Summary: Merlin, new to the cold and impersonal Camelot, misses the love and closeness of home. This is his journey to finding that love and closeness again, with the most unlikely of princes.

Merlin missed Ealdor.

He missed the simplicity of it. He missed waking up every morning and knowing his biggest responsibility was getting the harvest in on time. He missed being able to disappear, to mess around in the woods all day and come home and know he would be in for a scolding, but that no one would be dead or enchanted because he’d taken a day off. He missed his mother and Will, missed seeing them each and every day.

Merlin missed Ealdor so badly some days it ached.

It occurred to him one day, as he was making Arthur’s bed after he’d woken up and thrown the sheets everywhere, that what he missed about Ealdor the most was the closeness.

It was easy, in this giant castle full of people he barely knew, to go days without any touch. Gaius helped, sometimes, though he preferred comforting words over the hugs his mother had so freely given him. Gaius’s favourite form of touch seemed to involve smacking Merlin upside the head whenever he did anything even slightly foolish. Gwen have him smiles and hugs, occasionally, and there had been that one kiss when she’d thought he’d died, but mostly they stuck to leaning close and giggling about the latest castle gossip, or Arthur after he’d done something extremely Arthur-ish and stupid.

And Arthur, well. The prince was, surprisingly, the most physically affectionate person Merlin had met thus far in Camelot. He offered friendly pats and punches, bumped his shoulder when Merlin was being particularly insulting and he couldn’t admit he enjoyed the banter, even ruffled Merlin’s hair on days he was feeling particularly playful.

His touches, though, somehow felt… not impersonal, exactly, but distant.

Merlin knew why, of course. Arthur was the Crowned Prince of Camelot, and as such he had been raised with certain rules and expectations. Chief among them; don’t trust anyone, and especially don’t show anyone your affection. And it was a teaching Merlin knew Arthur broke in many small ways, from his quick touches with Merlin to wrestling with his knights.

Merlin also knew it wasn’t enough for Arthur.

Hell, he was slowly being driven mad from the lack of touch, the lack of love and closeness in Camelot, and he’d only been here eight months. What must it have been like, to grow up here, to live in this world where no one ever hugged or leaned on each other just for the sake of it, just to feel connected, to feel loved.

Lonely, Merlin thought. It must have been very lonely.

“What do you miss most about Ealdor?” Arthur asked, exactly two months later, and a month since they had battled Kanen.

Merlin looked up from where he was scrubbing the floor. “What?”

Arthur shifted, stared at the paper in his hand like he didn’t care for Merlin’s answer. “It’s just, Ealdor is so different from Camelot.” Arthur’s eyes flickered to his. “There must be something you miss about it.”

Merlin went back to scrubbing. “Since when are you interested in my life?”

Arthur grunted and mumbled something Merlin couldn’t hear. He ignored him, trying to concentrate on the brush in his hands even as he pondered Arthur’s question. He found his answer hadn’t changed. He missed his mother’s hugs, the comforting squeeze of her hand when he was upset, Will-

He gasped, a flair of pain making sudden tears spring to his eyes. Oh, Will.

“The work was better.” He blurted out, desperately trying to drown out his thoughts. “There were no prattish princes to give us ridiculous chores, for one.”

Arthur snorted. “They’re not ridiculous, Merlin, you’re just hopeless.”

They worked in silence for another moment, then Merlin sighed and sat back. “I miss my mum, most of all. I miss waking up to her singing in the kitchen and her hugs when I’d go out to do my chores for the day.” He grinned. “She used to warn me, everyday, ‘don’t get into trouble today Merlin, I know what your like.’ Will would joke-“

He cut himself off with a strangled sound as what he was saying caught up with him. Tears stung his eyes again, and he squeezed the brush tightly. A lump formed in his throat and he couldn’t speak through it, no matter how hard he tried.

A hand on his shoulder startled him. He followed the hand up to Arthur, close and comforting.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur said lowly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Merlin shook his head, swiping at his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I just-“ He shuddered, just trying to breathe. “I just miss him.”

Arthur shifted, crouched down next to him. He looked uncomfortable. Merlin wasn’t surprised – he’d probably never had to deal with a crying servant before. Arthur said nothing, and instead Merlin felt a hesitant arm settle around his shoulder. He leaned into the touch, and for a moment he felt like everything would be okay.

Seeing Arthur dead was world ending. Merlin felt like everything had come crashing down around him. He stared in horror as Arthur fell, the goblet tumbling to the ground moments before the prince himself. He launched himself out of his seat, horror and desperation crawling up his throat, as he grabbed Arthur from the ground and cradled his head in his lap.

“Arthur! No!”

Merlin shook him, desperate. Arthur lay still, lifeless, gone, and Merlin shook his head in denial even as the tears welled up.

“Arthur.” He said, pleaded. “Arthur. Come on! Arthur, come on. Come on. Come on!” Arthur refused to move, because he was a total prat and was far too self sacrificial for a prince, but not because he was dead, he couldn’t be dead. “No... Come on.”

He patted at his cheek, weakly, as acceptance settled deep in his heart. His hands roamed all over Arthur’s face, up and down his chest, touching, in a way he hadn’t had the courage to before, in a way he wouldn’t ever be able to again. He gripped Arthur’s hand tight and stared up at Anhora pleadingly.

“Please.” His breath caught on a sob and he had to stop before he could continue. “Please! Just... let me take his place!”

What did his life matter, in comparison to a prince’s? More than that, what did his life matter compared to Arthur’s? Arthur was his prince, his Once and Future King, the one Merlin would give his life for a thousand times over. Arthur was his everything, he was nothing without him.

Anhora shook his head. “This was Arthur's test, not yours.”

Merlin pulled Arthur close to him and glared, fury and hate filling up his chest so fast it should have terrified him. “You've killed him!” He accused, then deflated, hand cradling Arthur’s face as he stared at him in despair. “I was meant to protect him.”

Anhora shifted towards him, and Merlin’s magic crackled around him in warning. “He is not dead.” Merlin jerked and looked up into calm eyes. “He's merely consumed a sleeping draught. He will come round shortly.”

His eyes widened, and everything froze. “What?”

Anhora stared at Arthur, and Merlin couldn’t stop himself from pulling his prince closer and hunching over him protectively. “A unicorn is pure of heart. If you kill one, you must make amends by proving that you also are pure of heart. Arthur was willing to sacrifice his life to save yours. He has proven what is truly in his heart. The curse will be lifted.”

Merlin’s heart stuttered in his chest. Not dead not dead not dead not dead- Arthur wasn’t dead. He lowered his ear to Arthur’s chest and held his breath. It took an awful, terrifying moment, but then Merlin felt a heartbeat, so strong he wondered how he hadn’t felt it before.

He breathed out shakily. “He’s okay.”

“He is.” Anhora nodded, and then he was gone, leaving Merlin alone on a beach with an unconscious Arthur.

Merlin shifted on the ground. Arthur didn’t so much as stir, but now he was looking Merlin could tell he was breathing, steady and strong. He carefully set him down, just so he could move him into a more comfortable position. Then he pulled Arthur’s head back into his lap, one hand on his chest to make sure he kept breathing, and waited.

Arthur was a comforting weight against him. It was almost, almost, like hugging, if Merlin thought of hugging in the most broadest of terms. Something in him settled, something that had been restless and wanting since he had left Ealdor and his mother behind. He pulled Arthur a little closer, let his free hand settle on golden hair.

Arthur woke slowly, without his usual shifting and groaning. Merlin paused, his hand still combing through golden stands. His whole being seemed to freeze as Arthur groaned and blinked open his blue, blue eyes.

“Merlin?” Arthur coughed and looked around in confusion. “What-?”

Merlin laughed, tears in his eyes again. “You prat. You stupid, self-sacrificing prat.”

Arthur made a protesting noise deep in his throat, though he didn’t actually say anything. Arthur’s hand gripped the one Merlin had on his chest. Bolts of something went up Merlin’s arm at the skin on skin contact. He gasped silently, fist tightening against Arthur’s armour.

“Merlin.” Arthur said again. “Merlin, why aren’t I dead?”

Merlin shook his head, smoothed Arthur’s hair down. “It was a sleeping draught. Anhora said you had to prove you were pure of heart, like a unicorn, and by drinking the goblet you’d proven yourself.” He smiled a watery smile. “You lifted the curse.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “I did?”

Merlin nodded and Arthur barked a laugh, short and relieved. Merlin grinned with him, not quite able to bring himself to laugh. Arthur hadn’t moved from his lap, and Merlin found he never wanted him to. He’d happily spend the rest of his life like this, destiny be damned.

When Arthur did move, Merlin almost didn’t let him go. He clung to him for a second, then coughed and helped him sit up, his hand lingering on his back for as long as possible. Then Arthur stood, and his touch was gone completely. He curled his hand into a fist against his chest, tried to keep the feeling of another person close.

“We had best be going.” Arthur said, stretching and not looking at all effected by the loss of contact like Merlin. He wondered if Arthur even felt it, the hollow loneliness that so often pulled at Merlin’s insides. “I want to see for myself if the curse was lifted.”

Merlin watched as Arthur walked away, past the table and the goblets and back towards Camelot. And the sudden need rose up in Merlin, rose from the depths of his mind and held him tight as a vice. He needed to tell Arthur about his magic. It was unexpected and unexplainable, why now of all times was the right moment. But he knew it was, could feel it in his bones, and even deeper, in the core of who he was, in the restless magic racing through his blood.

He had to tell him.

“Arthur.” It slipped out before Merlin could stop it, one word after another. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Arthur’s eyes went soft, and Merlin almost crumbled under that gaze, almost told him it was nothing so they could continue on like they always had. “What is it?”

Merlin took a deep breath.

Two weeks of silence. Two weeks of hurt and betrayal and anger. Two weeks of not looking at him, of not so much as letting him close enough to perform his duties. Two weeks without any playful banter or friendly shoves. Two weeks of crushing doubt and loneliness and despair, rivalling what he felt when he had thought Arthur dead in his arms.

It took two weeks after Merlin told Arthur about his magic for the prince summoned him to his chambers. Merlin sent Gaius a desperate look, and his mentor sent a reassuring one back. Merlin ached for a hug, a pat on the shoulder, hell, even a ruffle of his hair. But he had learned Camelot wasn’t like that, knew he had to be content with what he could get, so he just squared his shoulders and made his way to Arthur’s chambers.

The servants whispered as he walked past. Arthur’s dismissal of him had been clear, and no one apart from Arthur and Merlin knew why he had been dismissed, though plenty had asked. Well, Gaius knew. There was no way he could have hid what had happened, even if he had wanted to, so he hadn’t even tried.

Merlin did his best to ignore the whispers, and before he was really ready, he found himself outside Arthur’s door. Why had Arthur called him now? Had he come to a decision on what to do with his knowledge of Merlin’s magic? Was he going to dismiss him? Banish him? Kill him?

Merlin shook his head and took a deep breath. He trusted Arthur. He wasn’t going to kill him, and if he wanted him gone then he would have told Merlin to leave that day on the beach. He squared his shoulders and knocked on Arthur’s door.

“Enter.”

Merlin’s heart stuttered in his chest as he pushed the door open.

Arthur was, unfairly, even more beautiful than Merlin remembered. Golden sunlight made him shine like something eternal, no magic required. It made his heartbeat speed up, blood pumping loudly in his ears.

Arthur was stood by the window, faced away from Merlin when he spoke.

“You’re a sorcerer.”

Merlin flinched. “I have magic, yes.”

He hadn’t had the time to explain the difference between a sorcerer and a warlock, hadn’t been able to say much really. Arthur had all but shut down when he had finally told him his secret. He hadn’t said anything as Merlin hurried to explain that he only ever used it to protect, only ever used it for his prince and Camelot. Arthur had wanted to deny it, Merlin knew, but a whispered spell and flash of his eyes silenced him before he could say anything. Arthur’s jaw had set, and Merlin had felt himself grow hollow as his everything turned away from him.

At least Arthur had snapped for him to follow, even if he refused to talk or look at him.

“You lied to me.”

Merlin shook. “I did.” He took two steps forward before he sank to his knees. “I’m so sorry Arthur. I didn’t want to lie to you, I swear it. I wanted to tell you months ago, but...”

He heard Arthur move, saw his shoes turn around. “But what?”

Merlin glanced up through his hair, a weak grin on his face. “You’d have chopped my head off.”

Arthur opened his mouth, denial on his tongue. He paused, and Merlin saw the exact moment he realised he couldn’t deny it. His face paled and his mouth clicked shut, the only sound in the now silent room. Merlin dropped his head.

“Why tell me now?” Arthur finally asked.

“I don’t know.” Merlin shrugged. “It just felt right. I thought-“ He voice got caught on the lump in his throat, and he had to swallow several times before he continued. “I thought you’d died and I realised that I couldn’t keep lying to you. Not when you’d willingly give your life for me like that.” He looked to his knees, fighting down the flush that came from knowing how much Arthur cared for him. “And I trust you.”

You’re my everything. How could I keep lying to you?

Arthur looked surprised at the news, but nodded his acceptance. Merlin shakily pushed himself to his feet, and they both waited in awkward silence for a moment before Arthur spoke again.

“Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

Merlin looked at him, fidgeted, and looked away. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Merlin looked up to Arthur, saw something wanting and desperate. “Is there something you want me to tell you?” Arthur sucked in a breath and turned away. Merlin took a half a step forward. “Arthur?”

Arthur refused to face him, straight backed and every inch the prince of Camelot. “That day, on the beach. I…” His shoulders dropped slightly. “I thought you were going to say something else.”

Arthur wasn’t going to say anything more. Merlin cocked his head, confused. What could Arthur have thought he was going to say? He thought back to that day two weeks ago. He thought about the desperation and despair, his panic and inability to let Arthur go until he knew he was okay. He thought about the way Arthur stayed in his lap, hand over his, seemingly content to stay there. How he had let Merlin play with his hair, how his eyes had gone soft when Merlin had told him there was something he needed to tell him.

The realisation hit him so hard he almost fell over.

“I love you.” Merlin blurted before he could stop himself.

Arthur whipped around, mouth hanging open in a way Merlin would tease him about if they were talking about anything else. As it was, he could barely think past the pounding in his heart. Arthur’s cheeks flushed red, and Merlin grew more confident.

“That’s what you thought I was going to say.” He said, watching Arthur shift in embarrassment. He opened his mouth, but Merlin continued before he could say anything. “It’s true. I do love you. But I couldn’t say it without you knowing me, all of me.”

“And do I?” Arthur asked. “Do I know all of you?”

“You’re one of the few that do.”

Arthur studied him for a long moment. “Who else have you told?”

Merlin thought for a moment. “No one.” At Arthur’s disbelieving look he shrugged. “My Mother has always known. I’ve been doing magic since I was a baby. Will-“ He chocked a little on the name. “Will found out when he caught me practicing magic.” He hesitated, but Arthur deserved his honesty now. “Gaius found out when I used magic to save him, and Lancelot heard me enchanting his lance to kill the griffin.” He shrugged. “And that’s it.”

Arthur sat on his bed, staring at Merlin in what he liked to believe might be a little bit of wonder. “I’m the first person you’ve willingly told?”

Merlin nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you are.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I’m still mad at you.”

Merlin nodded. “I know. You have every right to be.”

“I’m not sure how long it will take before I can trust you again.”

“Okay.”

Arthur stood and walked to him. Sparks ran up his arms as Arthur’s hands trailed up them, the soft touch almost too much after so long without. He shivered as Arthur’s hands cupped his face, and all but swooned when a finger brushed across his lips.

“I love you too.” Arthur whispered.

And then Merlin’s whole world seemed to explode as Arthur presses their lips together. Merlin’s hands fluttered uselessly around Arthur, and then he placed his hands on Arthur’s chest so he could touch.

They spent an eternity there, kissing and touching until Merlin could hardly breathe. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against Arthur’s and gulped down as much air as he could.

“I swear to you, I will never lie to you again.” He promised. “Not about something so important.”

Arthur smiled, and Merlin swore the very core of his being lit up in joy.

"The stars are beautiful tonight.”

Arthur snorted from where he was messing with the saddle bags. “You’re such a girl Merlin.”

Merlin snorted back, eyes still locked on the stars. “Getting jealous of stars, Arthur?”

His prince spluttered, mock offended. “I am not jealous!”

Merlin laughed and finally looked over at him. Arthur had their large blanket in hand, along with a flagon of ale. Merlin grinned and leaned back on his palms, picnic blanket soft under him. He turned back to the stars, trying to make the same shapes his mother had shown him when he was a child.

“Merlin.” Arthur whined. “You haven’t even gotten a fire started.”

Merlin grinned and waved his hand, not even bothering to look at what he was doing. He heard the sticks gather, felt the rush of magic and heat as they caught alight.

His grin turned smug. “Done.”

“Cheater.” Arthur mumbled.

The next instant arms wrap around his waist, and Arthur’s head was in his lap. The prat had wrapped the blanket around himself, leaving nothing for Merlin bar the corner on his legs. He didn’t mind. He was too busy revelling in the closeness, the touch. It had been months since he and Arthur had started courting, and he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of the little loving touches Arthur gave him most every hour of every day.

Merlin smiled down at his Arthur, a hand automatically going to his hair to mess with the golden locks. If Arthur were a cat, Merlin was convinced he would have started purring. The look on his face made Merlin melt each time they did this.

Arthur’s eyes opened and focused on the sky above them. “Tell me about the stars.”

Merlin stared at Arthur, the brightest star in the whole universe, and smiled. “As you wish.”

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#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin/arthur #magic reveal #touch starved #merlin fest #merthur fest #touch fest #@arthur-of-the-pendragons #my writing #cakeswriting

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vintagemermaidscove · 5 years

Text

The Merthur Fic

That I don’t have time to write...

Chapter 1

Arthur and Merlin are wrapping up a quest at a small neighboring kingdom. Mercia had made plans to take it over with little fuss, but Arthur led a small army to defend the land. Merlin is being tended to in the infirmary after being bucked from his horse near the end of the battle. The widowed Queen, some 80 years old, is presenting Arthur with a token of her affection- as her kingdom is only wealthy enough to just sustain itself, she has no way of properly paying him. Instead she presents as a gift a family heirloom. A braided silver ring that is rumored to have the power to ‘reveal to a ruler all he must know to keep himself and his kingdom safe and happy.’. Arthur believes the woman to be quite mad, but she is sweet and old so he accepts the gift, even putting it on at her insistence.

Arthur collects Merlin (Gwaine and Lance make a couple of cracks about ‘picking up the wife’) and they set out to return to Camelot.

Chapter 2

Uthur receives Arthur upon his return with the usual amount of warmth. He dismisses Merlin so the two may discuss kingdom matter and Arthur feels a pang at his departure. (Annoying as he is, he somehow always manages to cheer Arthur up.)

After the meeting he wanders down to the kitchens, too restless to sleep and hoping someone will be up who can make him a spot of tea. He finds Gwen doing a bit of experimental baking, and they chat. Things have been awkward between the two of them lately, and for some reason in the dead of night he finally is able to talk about it.

He admits when they first met he was quite fond of her and wanted something to happen. She says she would have liked that, but as time went on and Arthur did nothing, she assumed the interest had passed. Then Lance came along, and for a while she thought he might be jealous, but again he did nothing.

Arthur says he wanted to be jealous, even put on the act of it as if it might make it true. She is beautiful and wonderful, and would make a fine queen, so Arthur wanted to want her. But he couldn’t make it so. Gwen smiles and pats his hand, taking no offense. She assures him that when he meets the right person, he won’t have to think so hard about it. He’ll just know.

Chapter 3

The next day Arthur puts the knights through their paces, claiming their performance against the Mercian army was mediocre at best. He tracks Merlin as he walks around the edge of the practice field, subconsciously doing his best to impress him. Uther appears suddenly and calls Arthur over to chastise him for overworking his men. He thinks he ought to be spending more time instructing them and himself on strategy and less on brute force.

Furious at once again being unable to please his father, Arthur takes the long way back to the men and in doing so overhears his knights in conversation.

Percival is griping and doesn’t get how Gwaine can stay so cheery. “Simple mate. You’ve lived here all your life, so you’ve only ever known one king and one prince. But I’ve been around. I’ve seen truly sadistic kings work their knights to death for no good reason, and I’ve seen lazy and stupid princes who don’t give a cup of piss for their kingdom’s safety. Sure, he’s a prick at times, but Arthur’s a good man. He’ll be a bloody good king. So, if he wants to drag me out for training at the crack of dawn or send me to protect some speck of a kingdom, you can bet I’ll do it with a smile. Cause I’ve seen the alternative.”

Lance nods and agrees. Arthur is thrown by the kindness of these words and doesn’t move. Gwaine adds that even so there is one thing he’s being especially idiotic about. All the knights agree, and Leon asks if there’s anything that can be done. Lance says you can’t force things like that, he’ll do something when he’s ready. One knight asks if it’s even allowed in Camelot, since he knows in some kingdoms it isn’t even legal. Merlin appears and asks them what their talking about and they all clam up. Arthur emerges and pretends not to have heard anything.

Chapter 4

During his bath Arthur asks Merlin about what his father said. Merlin says plainly that the knights are perfectly well informed about strategy, but if he does want them studying more it’d be best to do it in winter. Use the last of the summer weather to their advantage. Arthur admits this is passably good advice. Merlin teases him about just how much he knows that Arthur doesn’t ask about. Arthur jokes that he’ll make every effort.

Chapter 5

After supper Morgana pulls Arthur aside and says she heard Uther chewing him out early. (What? I like watching the knights spar, I am only a woman.) She wanted to show him something that might make him feel better.

She brings him to Uther’s study, sure by now he’ll be asleep, and reveals a hidden key and chest. Inside are letters he has written to his deceased wife- many of them about Arthur and Morgana. She’s read them all of course and thinks there are a few he might benefit from reading himself. When asked why she is doing this for him, she informs him that she wants the two of them to get along, because she’s planning on leaving Camelot. She wants to study her magic and knows doing so is impossible here. Maybe before she leaves she can mend some fences.

Arthur reads what his father wrote about him- that he is too hard on Arthur for a reason but doing so breaks his heart because he knows it means they will never be close. But his love for his son and Camelot is so great he is willing to make the sacrifice.

Arthur returns the letters and key to their places and goes to bed. He feels small and alone and desperately wishes he had someone to hold. He tries conjuring up different women in his mind but none of them fit, so at last he gives up, hugs an extra pillow to his chest and tries to fall asleep.

He dreams of dragons, and a flipping coin.

Chapter 6

The next week they receive news that a visiting king from an island kingdom will be coming through Camelot on his way to the coast, and since the two countries have no formal relationship Uther has invited them to stay in the castle.

Arthur groans internally- visit nobles always make Merlin jumpy and odd, even more so than usual.

The king and his delegation arrive- they are wealthier than expected, and quite kind, with colorful regalia and dark skin. The king introduces himself, his advisors and most surprisingly, his husband. Uther is shocked and the entire room gets uncomfortable. The visiting king stiffens, having now seen this reaction a few times on the mainland, and says if he and his husband offend they will find accommodations elsewhere.

Arthur swoops in and assures them there is no problem- their cultures are different, but not at all incompatible, and there is nowhere they would rather have them be. The kitchens have prepared a feast in their honor, and everyone is encouraged to settle in to their quarters before it begins in an hour.

Arthur begins to speak but his father cuts him off. He says he did good work for the sake of diplomacy, but it would be best that after they leave that Camelot do no more business with their country. Arthur tells his father not to be so rash- they know next to nothing about these people.

Uther

-They are strange, they cannot be trusted.

Arthur

-You speak out of fear. Think! Every other nation will be doing the same. They will go back to their homeland with no allies- what if they had us?

Uther

-They have nothing to offer.

Arthur

-You don’t know that!

Uther

-You’re being idealistic and childish.

Arthur

-No father. I am trying to act in the best interest of Camelot. I am trying to be the king you raised me to be.

Uther

-You’re not king yet.

Arthur

-No but like it or not one day I will be. One day Camelot’s fate will rest in my hands. I know you love this kingdom father- I know because I do to. I would die to keep her safe. So please, before you make of the mistake of acting on fear, let me try. Let me talk with these people. You are the one who taught me how to take measure of a man’s heart. Do you not trust your own instruction?

Uther agrees with Arthur not to make any snap judgements, and Arther leaves to go dress for the feast. He bumps into Merlin who was clearly eavesdropping. He doesn’t even have time to scold him before the servant is throwing his arms around him in a hug. He has tears in his eyes.

Chapter 7

The feast goes well, though Uther claims a headache and does not attend. Arthur thinks this is for the best, as he is able to charm the king and prince and learn all about their island- they are in fact quite rich in resources and without allies on the mainland, as they have only just begun to design vessels large enough to travel for months at sea. Morgana attends and is delighted by the company as well, taking the advances of a female body guard in more than perfect stride. Arthur can practically see her scheming to join their traveling party and makes a note to himself to make plans to help her do so.

That night he gets fairly drunk and on his way to his bedroom somehow ends up in Merlin and Gaius’s quarters. He asks Merlin what he thought of their guests, and what Gaius knows about ‘those’ kinds of relationships. Like, whether or not they can even work.

He wants to kiss Merlin but Merlin tells him he’s drunk and confused. Arthur says he may be one, but he’s certainly not the other. Merlin sends him back to his room anyway.

He lays in bed angry- not because Merlin refused him, but because it was clear he thought he was only making advances because he was drunk and didn’t take him seriously. Arthur vows he will get sober and woo him properly- that will show the gorgeous little twat.

Chapter 8

The next evening the traveling party departs, with the promise that they are always welcome in Camelot. Uther wishes them goodbye as well. Morgana presses a letter into Uther’s hand, and gets into the caravan. She clearly enchants him to stay still and be unable to yell. Arthur and Merlin try to fight laughter.

Later in the halls, Merlin asks if Uther has started on the war path. Arthur assures him it will be fine. Morgana’s letter was very clear, and Arthur smoothed things over as best he could. Now it will just take time for Uther to adjust.

He switches topics to he and Merlin, bringing up their conversation from before. Merlin tries to laugh it off, but Arthur is in no laughing matter and makes clear advances.

Merlin panics and runs, making Arthur think he has made a terrible mistake.

Chapter 9

He wanders the castle, feeling terrible. He never even thought through the possibility that Merlin wouldn’t be interested. He didn’t know how being attracted to men was supposed to work, but if he could do it, couldn’t other men? And even if all men couldn’t, this was Merlin. There was something about the two of them that just felt sort of…inevitable. Arthur wanders into the knights’ barracks, where they’ve set up a sort of clubhouse pub. Arthur often drops by in a ‘we’re all off the clock’ fashion. The men are having an average night of beer and socializing, and Arthur drops in and begs for a drink.

Gwaine takes front position and asks what’s up. Arthur gets a bit drunk and then explains that he made a move on Merlin and messed things up. He’s angry with himself for being an arrogant prat, assuming Merlin would be interested. Gwaine and the boys politely inform Arthur that….well duh! Of course, Merlin wants him! The boy has been in love with Arthur since day one, everyone knows that. They assure Arthur that if Merlin said no, it wasn’t because he didn’t want Arthur- it was because he felt for whatever other reason that he wasn’t allowed.

Arthur knows then what he has to do. He tells the boys that this will go down in history as the worst week of Uther’s life.

Chapter 10

“Are you telling me, that after everything this week. After the closest thing I have to a daughter went gallivanting off with no plan whatsoever, that my only son is in love with his manservant?!”

Arthur explains to Uther that he just wants to know the steps needed in pursuing a relationship with Merlin. They fight a bit and Uther tells him that there really isn’t any precedent for this- if it were a woman he’d be telling him he’s a prince, so as long as he treats the woman with respect he can do as he likes.

“Then let’s treat this the same way.”

“I hardly think this is the same.”

“It is father.” Steely cold gaze. Firm stare. No room for argument.

Uther says he won’t be allowed to be his manservant anymore. And depending on how the relationship progresses certain changes will need to be made- Merlin’s wardrobe, accommodations, title, etc.

Arthur says he understand. He’ll work on finding Merlin a more suitable position- letting him apprentice of Gaius full time or work in the archives.

As he leaves he can hear Uther venting to Ygraine.

Chapter 11

Arthur combs the castle looking for Merlin but can’t find him anywhere. He goes to ask Gaius where he might be. Gaius says he’s gone to talk with an old friend and not to worry. Arthur sits, exhausted from his search. Gaius gently asks if Arthur is quite sure he knows what he’s doing, Arthur assures him that he’s never been surer of anything. He is unfortunately quite in love with the oaf.

Gaius says in that case, he may need to prepare for the possibility that Merlin has a life and secrets of his own that, as his Prince and employer, Arthur knew nothing about. Gaius loves Merlin like a son, and respects Arthur deeply. He would be quite displeased if Arthur got angry with Merlin for not being the simple man he thought he was.

Arthur is very confused by this advice but feels his love for Merlin like a solid thing in his chest, and decides he is not worried.

Chapter 12

That night Merlin returns to Arthur’s bedchamber for his nightly duties, acting flustered. Arthur chides him a bit (out of habit) then switches tactics, sitting him down and explaining that he doesn’t have to worry. He’s spoken to Uther and their relationship won’t be hindered or scandalized. Merlin can stay employed in the castle and continue his work with Gaius. Merlin gets angry at Arthur’s presumption, and that he just decided to go ahead with this without speaking to Merlin. “Did it ever occur to you there might be some other reason? Maybe I find you repulsive- ever think of that?” They go back and forth before Merlin is forced to reveal his sorcery. Arthur is shocked, Merlin makes to storm out, but Arthur tells him to stay.

“All this time…why haven’t you killed me?” Merlin laughs and has to explain to Arthur that magic has nothing to do with evil. “I’ve actually spent most of my time working to save your life. Not for any ounce of credit mind you…”

They go through a short bit about how their destinies are tied together (a dragon told me) and Arthur laughs for the first time- he always suspected as such.

Arthur wants confirmation that Merlin does truly in fact want him (honestly mate, where are your priorities right now?) and they kiss. Arthur assures him that this is one thing they just cannot tell his father. Merlin wholeheartedly agrees.

Chapter 13- A year or so later…

It’s Uther’s Feast day and Morgana has come home for a visit. She travelled with the islanders for a while before splitting off to spend some time in a desert oasis with some shamans. They told her about a mythic library in the East- that’s where she’s headed next.

Merlin is in fact no longer Arthur’s manservant, but head librarian and archivist for a college Arthur founded. On the surface it is meant to fund the arts, but Merlin and Gaius also use it to seek out possible magical practitioners and give them a safe place to study.

At the feast Arthur gets tipsy and Merlin takes him up to bed before he can embarrass himself. They flirt (Arthur complains they don’t see each other enough, Merlin reminds him they have sex and sleep together nearly every night. Arthur says exactly. Merlin rolls his eyes. They talk about the college a bit and Arthur’s own attempts to ease Uther’s zeal for sorcerer killing- Arthur promises to restore magic to its former glory as soon as he is in charge. Merlin tells him his heart is in the right place, but he fears too much damage has been done. Arthur persists in his confidence, stating finally ‘I cannot believe my own husband doesn’t believe in me!” “Am I your husband? Someone forgot to tell me.” “Oh, you will be my husband Merlin- just you wait. And since this is an unavoidable eventuality, I’ve decided I may as well start using the term now. So, you’ll just have to get used to it.” Merlin smiles and agrees, and the two fall asleep.

#patroclesdefensesquad #merthur #fanfic outline

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medievalwhore · 5 years

Text

Ah shit, here we go again. Merthur fic Res!

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Morning

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Arthur complains about Merlin waking him up with the same “Rise and Shine!” everyday, and tells Merlin to try something different. And well, he does. {2,908}

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Furs and Flannels

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Sharing body heat fics? I think yes! Merlin shows up almost dead with a serious case of hypothermia, and with pounds of furs and flannels (hehe) on Merlin, Arthur still volunteers to help Merlin warm up faster. {4,894}

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Five Times Merlin and Arthur Slept Together Platonically, and One Time They Didn't

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Long ass title, great ass fic. Title explains itself. (Also, a few times seem arguably less “platonic” but, whatever :) ) {5,905}

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Breathless

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Merlin has an asthma attack when he’s ill, and Arthur finds it 100% necessary to take care of him from that moment. {2,268}

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Hugs Are For Losers

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The summary is all you need. Literally. If I summarized it now it would basically be the word for word summary from the author. (The ending hits differently) {3,888}

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a night out

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This one’s just a simple fic that is 100% canon. (They have to spend a night in the woods because their hunting trip didn’t go as planned) {3,255}

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Look After You

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Arthur is ill and Merlin takes care of him. There’s really not much else I can say, that’s literally it. (There’s a fun twist at the end ;) ) {6,166}

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Nonesuch

vvvv

Alright bear with me; there’s gonna be quite a few ‘Sharing Body Heat’ fics ok. Even though Arthur could share a bed with someone in the winter to keep himself warm, he doesn’t. Merlin knows this, takes pity on Arthur, and takes matters into his own hands. {1,713}

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Fallacy

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Arthur thinks Merlin is seeing a girl. Of course he fucking isn’t. (Which Arthur quickly learns) {2,000}

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Fall Off The Earth

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A winter storms stops their journey back to Camelot, so they have to stay inside a cave for the night. With Arthur’s poor navigation and refusal to listen to Merlin, they’re in a bit of a pickle. + more sharing body heat (and maybe some more) {3,128}

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Gone Fishing

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Arthur knows Merlin is keeping a secret from him, and he is determined to find out. So, he plans a short getaway trip for both of them, believing if Merlin is able to truly relax he’ll spill the tea. {4,269} hehe 69

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Anniversary

vvvv

Arthur wants to give Merlin something on his birthday, just because, well, ya know, he wants to be nice. Though Arthur has trouble thinking of a good gift, so naturally, what does he decide on? Plums. Delicious plums. {1,909}

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Four times Arthur doesn’t notice Merlin kissing him – and one time he kisses Merlin first

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What can I say? I love 5+1 fics. (Or I guess in this case it’s 4+1). Title says it all. {1,997}

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Arthur Enchanted

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Arthur is cursed to obey Merlin’s orders. That’s it. That’s the fic. {4,958}

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Finding Home

vvvv

This one’s a good one. Gauis retires as court physician and Merlin gets kicked out of his room by the new physician. It’s mid winter, Merlin has nowhere to sleep, and it’s Arthur’s job to take care of Merlin. (This fic also has ‘Sharing Body Heat’. You’ll probably see it again) {7,857}

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The Mystery of Merlin

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The description in this one confused the fuck outta me. But I don’t have any good way to summarize this.. you’ll just have to read. (Hint. Ass grab.) {2,224}

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The Truth Is You

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Arthur gets himself into a situation and ends up getting slapped with a truth spell. This one’s got great angst at the interesting part (the end basically). Obviously, Arthur doesn’t wanna tell Merlin (or anyone really) the truth. And he must tell his biggest lie to break it. {8,957}

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All Its Splendid Glory

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Alright so, Arthur gets hit with another spell, but this time, it’s a love spell. And Arthur’s enchanted to love Merlin. (Or that’s what Merlin thinks, he finds out he was wrong) {8,029}

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Friendly Slaps

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Merlin realizes that Arthur manhandles him more than anyone else, it doesn’t take him long to come up with a reason why. {4,044}

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before it breaks

vvvv

Now this one...this one HURTS. It’s angsty, extremely, but everything is better in the end. Arthur knows Merlin’s secret, but it doesn’t go great at first. {2,750}

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The Best Kept Secrets

vvvv

This one is so good! Merlin wants to take a vacation to Ealdor to relax from his duties (...and Arthur). But Arthur follows him anyways and it’s a much needed vacation for both of them. {7,099}

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What Arthur Knew

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A modern AU. Arthur is head over FUCKING heels for Merlin, he doesn’t really know how jealous he is, but there is some stuff he does know about himself. (5+1) {2,995}

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New Light

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This one’s short & kinda simple. But, idk, I like it. {1,201}

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Promised

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This one is super duper short but it’s sweet and fluffy. {749}

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A Lesson In ‘Shut Up, Merlin’

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Arthur teaches Merlin how to kiss after asking him if he wants to kiss [Arthur]. Pretty much just 4,000 words of smooches. {4,522}

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A Battle of Wills

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Basically, these shitheads are super competitive, and when Arthur makes a move to kiss Merlin, neither of them will back down. (Which of course, escalates fairly quickly) {1,903}

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The Magic Word

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Read the description. The ending tho, holy fuck, so many emotions lmao. Y’all be fine. {4,271}

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Appreciated Merlin

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Merlin’s mind is wandering while he dresses Arthur in his armor in preparation for a tournament. Arthur takes advantage and studies Merlin and closely as he can. Since Merlin’s mind is somewhere else, Arthur decides to kiss him. {1,906}

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all the best it could be (just you and i)

vvvv

When your best bud is gone for a few days, everyone knows that you must drink all you can. And when your ‘ol pal climbs two stories into your room, you gotta have a heart to heart convo. and make out. like best friends do. {7,860}

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my body (when it is with your body)

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You ever...accidentally turn on your best friend...by rubbing his nipples...and then...uh...you know... [Smut. Just. Smut] {2,669}

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Happy Birthday

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Read the description. Arthur celebrates Merlin’s birthday 4 times before he actually gets his birthdate right. {4,193}

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On the Importance of Hot Beverages (And Other Methods of Keeping Warm)

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Arthur has Merlin venture into town with him one cold winter day. Merlin, not expected the cold weather, isn’t too happy about it until the end. {2,164}

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Practice Makes Perfect

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After Arthur learns of Merlin’s magic, he thinks they should train so Arthur can counter-attack magical strokes. Or whatever. It’s literally the description lol. {3,057}

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Can We Always Be This Close?

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Merlin’s goes to Ealdor to tend to Hunith’s farm while she’s away, to his surprise Arthur really wants to join him. (A week of domestic farm-life work and reveals? oh yeah) {7,982}

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Thin Band of Gold

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Basically, Arthur likes Merlin in his clothes: both the boys realize so there’s really no denying it. It starts with Arthur’s price circlet, and doesn’t stop from there. {3,418}

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#merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #colin morgan #bradley james #brolin

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