#I saw this and immediately thought of Merthur

[blackcye]

Arthur: If you're mad at me, you can just come out and say it.

Merlin: Fine. I'm gay and I'm mad at you.

[th30ra3k3n]

merlin: “i will believe you if you say the feeling was momentary — but it wasn’t for me. it wasn’t admiration from a subject. i thought it was my loyalty to you. but it was affection. i have a deep affection for you, your royal highness. although you’re a man and the crown prince of this nation, i... love you.”

arthur: “[merlin], we — we cannot be together. i am the crown prince of this nation and you… you are my subject.”

merlin: “i will endure it. whatever people say — no. whatever you say, i will endure it. i will endure it all.”

for @thiamsxbitch bc we seem to have a lot of the same otps lol 😭🖤

[larluce]

LETS PLAY!!

What do you think is this merthur story about?

Fire and smoke, burning and suffocation, was the only thing Merlin could see and feel.

"Satan can take many forms!" He could distinguish the voice of the king that was superimposed on the others who shouted 'Witch!' in the background. "Like this witch, who has taken the appearance of a man to confuse my son and induce him to commit the worst of sins. Do not be fooled! They call themselves healers, but with their spells and potions they corrupt our children."

Merlin would have laughed if he had the strength. If he were really a woman, he would not be in this situation to begin with. But he supposed that it suited the king for people to believe that. Maybe he even tried to convince himself that this was the truth.

That his son was not a sodomite.

The flames rose and burned his skin more intensely. He let out a heartrending scream.

Arthur... even his thoughts sounded weak, but he made an effort think of Arthur.

He remembered when he saw him for the first time, entering his medicinal herbs and potion stant. His pearly smile, his sky-colored eyes, his blond hair like gold. He remembered their walks through the fields, when they kissed for the first time under his own roof, his laughter, when they gave themselves to each other for the first time with such passion and, yet, so much innocence in that small cabin abandoned in the middle of the forest.

Tears ran through his eyes. How could such a beautiful thing be a sin?

Another burst of fire. He shouted again, but the scream quickly turned into a cough. Hopefully the smoke would kill him before the fire.

Think of his voice the pain was unbearable, but the memory of his beloved made it a little less unbearable. He could almost hear his voice saying "I love you" in the ear after making love. His voice saying his name as if savoring it in his mouth.

But suddenly he heard the voice of his beloved farther away, still saying his name, but this time screaming in horror.

"Merlin!" his screams were almost as heartbreaking as his, as if he were also being burned in flames. "No! Let me go! Merlin!"

Merlin made an effort and looked up. He tried to distinguish something, but couldn't see anything. There was too much smoke.

No... no, no, no, no ¡No! a despair grew within him, even greater than his fear to death. He could not die without seeing him! Not without seeing his face one last time.

"Let me see him!" he prayed to the heavens then with all his might. "Let me see him, just one more time, please."

And God granted it... only not in the way he expected.

...

Several centuries later...

Mildred Duffy, a 60-year-old woman, looked out the window with a motherly smile as the principal guided another interested couple to the playground to meet some of the children. That orphanage had become almost a second home for her and she loved those children as if they were her own. It would always be a great joy to find each child a home, a family, even if later she would spend weeks missing their little faces and worrying about their destiny. She turned her attention to the even younger children that were in the same room, who were drawing at the tables or playing with dolls peacefully on the floor. No couple who saw them would believe how murky the past of many of them were just by seeing them like that, in their purest innocence.

"Did you send for me, Miss Duffy?" a voice took her out of her reverie.

He turned to meet one of the young volunteers there. She suppressed the laughter when she noticed how noticeably tired and stressed she was, with some hairs coming out of her bun and her clothes tugged and stained with paint.

"I did… Claire, right? I need you to keep an eye on the kids while I take care of something".

The girl opened her eyes wide.

"All of them?" The girl's voice rose an octave and Mildred couldn't contain a soft laugh this time.

"Careful, Claire. They can smell your fear."

"I'm not afraid of them". The girl became defensive immediately. "It's just that I didn't think they were going to be—"

"Such little devils? They are" Mildred interrupted smiling. "But only if you let them. You've made the mistake of seeing them as helpless children in need and they have used the compassion you have towards them in their favor". She shook her head in disapproval. "Pitty is the last thing you should feel for them, Claire. It's okay for you to be kind, but there is a thin line between being kind and being permissive. Show them who has the authority!" she tapped her on the back, encouraging her, before heading to the door. "They are all yours".

…

Mildred went down the creaky wooden stairs, unhurriedly. She'd only had to file some papers in her office. Something that hadn't taken more than 20 minutes, so she decided to give 15 minutes more for herself. She was confident Claire wasn't having any problems. Besides, she was an old woman, she also deserved a break.

She didn't intend to do anything other than wander around the place for a while. She wanted to make a mental note of what could be changed in the infrastructure, aesthetically speaking, such as the color of the walls, which seemed to come from the same palette of opaque colors for more cheerful colors, for example, or some furniture that didn't seem to combine with the space. Mildred sometimes believed maybe she should've been an interior designer instead of a tutor because of how much those details bothered her.

But Mildred's plans changed as soon as she finished going down the stairs.

"That he deserved it, he deserved it" she heard a little voice. "Doesn't mean you didn't do wrong, Double C. You know Dimples doesn't like when you're mean to people".

The woman turned in the direction of the voice, surprised. At this time children were either in the playground or in the games rooms, where couples could see them, not hidden in the corridors.

"Okay, okay, I'll drop it. But don't think we've finished this conversation, uh? I should be mad at you too, you know"

She soon found the source of the sound. On one side of the stairs, in a half-hidden corner, a little girl with brown hair and blue eyes was sitting on the floor playing chess… completely alone.

"Don't hurry me" the girl complained to someone who wasn't there, seeing the black pieces in front of her with an infinite concentration. "I'm thinking"

A new maternal smile formed on Mildred's face. She would recognize that girl anywhere.

"Am I interrupting?" decided to make her presence known.

"Of course not, Miss Duffy" said the girl returning the smile. "Prince Cotton Candy and I were playing."

"I see" Mildred said in a particularly animated voice and sat next to her watching the game as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. "I didn't know you knew how to play chess. Who taught you, darling?"

"Fairy Dimples"

"Of course" she giggled, tender. The girl probably was making up her own chess rules. "Is she around?"

"He, he is a he" corrected the girl. "And no, Cotton Candy and Dimples fought again for something stupid, and they won't be in the same room until they make up"

"Looks like they fight a lot."

"They do, but they love each other"

"It's good to know that". Miss Duffy decided then to turn a little serious. "Bridget—"

"Brigitta" corrected the girl. "But you can call me Biddy. Prince Cotton Candy calls me that."

"Sorry" she apologized. "Biddy, I don't doubt Prince Cotton Candy and Fairy Dimples are very nice people and great friends, but maybe you could… try to make some new friends? It's not good that you isolate yourself so much from the other children, darling".

"I had other friends" the girl's cheerful voice clouded a bit of sadness. "Jheny and Chris. But they aren't here anymore".

Mildred's heart clenched in her chest. From what the orphanage psychologist had told her, these three had been inseparable… well, at least until the children in question were adopted, leaving little Biddy alone. Prince Cotton Candy and Fairy Dimples appeared shortly after she said goodbye to the last of her two friends.

"Imaginary friends are sometimes created as a defense mechanism to cope with a loss or it may be the result of a major change or significant alteration in a child's life," the psychologist had explained her "But it's nothing abnormal, Mildred, she's 5. Many children have imaginary friends at that age and as soon as they came, they leave, it's not something we should force. I think it's important to clarify her she shouldn't prefer her imaginary friends over the real ones, but beyond that, I don't think you have anything to worry about. "

Yes, maybe she was worrying too much.

"Check!" exclaimed the girl, excited, eating a bishop with her horse and cornered the white king.

"Oh, wow. You really can play chess" Mildred said surprised when she saw the girl moved the pieces correctly.

"Yes, I told you Fairy Dimples taught me"

Mildred frowned and shifted her gaze from the girl to her side, specifically where a second player would be if there was one.

A chill ran through her. Could it be…?

An incredulous laugh escaped her, dismissing those thoughts immediately. Yes, she was definitely worrying too much.

"Right, I forgot" She stood up, briefly resting one hand on the girl's shoulder in a loving manner. "Don't forget to leave that board in its place when you finish, okay?"

"Yes, Miss Duffin" the girl answered cheerfully and dismissed her with her hand in a very adorable way. Mildred smiled. She didn't understand why nobody hasn't adopted that girl yet. She was way too charming.

Well, time to go see how Claire was doing with those little devils.

…

"Double C!" Little Biddy said as if she was calling someone out. "It's your turn".

Silence.

The impatient expression of the girl softened to a more understanding one.

"You know Dimples never stays angry for too long. he's not even avoiding you to bother you. He disappears because he doesn't want to say hurtful things that aren't true… Or at least that's what he told me."

Silence.

The girl laughed.

"Well, don't tell me that, tell him. And remove that sad doggy face already and play. Come on, be a good loser".

Almost immediately afterwards a white bishop rose into the air and, in one quick movement, brought down the black king.

The little girl smiled.

"Checkmate".

...

Now, this originally was a very old draft I had for a another's fandom story that I never finished cause the fandom kind of died in between. But today a started reading my old drafts out of nostalgia and I realised this prompt actually fitted merthur way better than it did for the original pair. I made very minor changes (we got Brigitta in this AU too! :D).

While I never finished the story, I clearly remember how it was going to go, so... What do you think is happening? Share your theories in the reblogs or comments 😄

[youdgetbored]

Last day for @merlintarotfest !yikes. (6 pages I think)

Rating: general

Summary: merthur hurt/comfort

Title: Always

Justice 

King of pentacles 

Ace of wands

Arthur was always making a decision. He sits at a wooden table, arms clasped in front of him. A choice must be made, today no different from any other.

As a prince he hardly thought about the balance of the world. Then the day came when he was king.

Every life in the kingdom rested on his shoulders. Each threat of war, of strife, of disaster, it was up to the king to ensure the safety of those who could not fend for themselves. With the crown laid against his brow, Arthur made no decision lightly. But had he ever truly? Sure, jousts and tournaments didn’t weigh on his mind. His fathers temper was a different story. Growing up alongside Morgana's rebellious spirit meant at the drop of a hat, he had to be at her side. As a son who had experienced Uther’s rage firsthand, he knew it was nothing to be trifled with.

So when was the responsibility truly his? Nearly his whole life decided for him before he could walk, when was the gavel placed in his hands? Arthur could not say. The day his eyes opened to it was a different story.

A story that began in his sleep.

Groggy eyed, covered in webs with the rest of the dining room guests, a dagger flew to his chest. To pierce his beating heart, stop him dead.

When the physician's ward threw himself in front of the weapon.

The boy he had bullied, thrown in jail. He’d nearly taken his head off with a mace, yet Arthur lived because of him. 

The two had become an unusual pair. Camelot knights say they saw the change immediately. Arthur openly siding with a servant over a royal, based only on their word. He risked death to find a cure for a poisoned cup. He disobeyed the law to save a young boy, something only the Druids knew. The qualities of a king were always in him. Decisions made of necessity and fairness, of what was deserved. Death or disgrace was never something he ever feared. Yes, he awoke that day in the dining hall. But it would be later that he found himself to be the judge and the accused in one verdict.

When he found himself on the shore sat across from his servant.

Sat across from Merlin.

Merlin, who he had told to stay home, away from trouble. The pesky servant who didn’t know how to polish armor, who struggled to lift a sword. The boy who had saved his life. Arthur owed him a life debt. To pay it, was only just.

Merlin sits across from him now. It was only hours ago that Gaius was faced with tending to both of their injuries in this very room. Lanterns flicker in their silence, illuminating his shadowed eyes. For a brief moment, Arthur pictures the ember dragon Merlin had conjured the night before. He lets out a deep sigh, a life debt.

***

Gaius has always been a caretaker. Working under King Uther took patience. Gaius did not miss those days, and thank the old gods, Arthur was nothing like his father. 

The day that Arthur learned the truth about Merlin's magic, Gaius hoped he would not see Uthers eyes in his king.

Arthur's sword swung viciously at the raiders. Camelot had been attacked, and the enemy was unrelenting. The knights pressed on, determined to fight. Gaius tended to the wounded in a makeshift hospital, the Citadel already overrun. Gwen stood close by, defending him and his patients. He risked a glance outside to see Arthur take down another enemy. The king fought through his injuries, but Gaius had practically raised Arthur. It was obvious his energy waned. 

Merlin's shout drew both of their attentions. Arthurs head whipped to the side in time to see a soldier with blonde hair shove Merlin to the ground. His head collided with a wooden barrel, the sword he held clattering out of his grasp. He rolled to the side. Had his reaction time been any slower, the spear that came down on his shoulder would have been an injury that Gaius couldn’t cure.

An agonizing cry split through the air. Gaius moved forward without thinking, leaving Gwen behind. He stayed close to the buildings as he ran. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arthur abandon his current fight, his only concern for Merlin. They ran, Arthur much faster than Gaius’s old bones, decades of labor slowing him down. He had a clear sight of Merlin now, still on the ground but fighting. His attacker wrenched the spear out of his shoulder causing another howl. Merlin kicked with all his might, and the man let out his own yell before falling to one knee.

Gaius was almost there, huffing and sore and almost there. He readied a spell in his mind. Without practice there was no certainty it would work, there were witnesses that he couldn't prevent. The king himself was running towards the same goal. But this was Merlin, and as he saw a second enemy round the corner towards his boy, he had to do something. 

He felt the explosion before he heard it. On Gaius’s left a force pushed him off his feet, his collision with the ground unstoppable. A ringing overtook his ears while he blinked back tears. He tried to pry himself off the gravel with no luck, and he felt the gold in his eyes fade. There would be no magic from him today. Prying his eyes off the ground he found Merlin, and thank the old religion, Arthur had made it to his side.

Merlin was still injured, his right hand pressed firmly against his left shoulder. The man who stabbed him lay limp at his feet. Arthur was in a frenzy, one hand planted firmly on Merlin's good arm with the other clearing a path with his sword. The enemies kept coming though, and while Gaius tried again to clear his head, he saw the soldier catch Arthur off guard.

A pained scream filled the air, immediately followed by a roar. Arthurs knees buckled. His grip on Merlin slipped, his eyes clenched shut. Before he had time to hit the ground, Merlin let off a burst. Of what, it wasn’t clear. Maybe it was the blood rushing to Gaius’s head, or the chaos of battle. One second, Merlin was injured and slow. The next, the air around him turned to static. Gaius didn’t need to see Merlin's eyes to know what they glowed with.

A wave of nausea overtook Gaius, he was not used to this kind of exertion. His gaze was wrenched from his boys as he took deep breaths. Eventually the buzzing in his head stopped. With the battle still raging around him, he pushed himself to his feet. Arthur was still on his knees, his sword stuck into the ground as a crutch. Merlin stood by his side, they had barely moved from their places. Enemies littered the ground around them. The two were untouched, apart from their previous injuries.

Arthur was looking up at Merlin. Though it was more than that. Injuries clouded his expression, Gaius knew Arthur only had a few minutes before he fell unconscious. Gaius followed Arthur's gaze to Merlin's hand, extended out in front of him. The remnants of his spellcasting like a blaze of flame, still at his fingertips. Arthur was not just looking at Merlin.

Arthur was seeing Merlin.

Gaius brings tea to the table they now sit at. He sets it down, stealing a glance towards Arthur. The king's eyes remain locked on Merlin. His expression is unreadable, apart from what Gaius knows is betrayal. It makes sense of course. A lifetime of trust in Gaius, almost a decade in Merlin, all the while witnessing the destruction sorcery can cause. 

Not wanting to disturb them further, Gaius heads towards the door. The brass knob is cold in his hand. He gives a tug, the old wood resonating a loud creak through the room. As he walks through the doorway, he hopes only that his boys can find patience and understanding within each other.

***

Merlin is never free. His mornings begin before sunrise, with breakfast and laundry and cleaning. To be at Arthurs side is never dull, and jokes aside, it's work that Merlin enjoys. When he is not by Arthurs side he often finds himself with Gaius. The skills of a trained physician live within Merlin after years of healing injuries. Most days, it is rare to have a moment to sit with his thoughts. Which sometimes comes as a relief.

Sorcery remains outlawed in most parts of the land, why wouldn’t it? The hunt for dragons was successful. Magic can cause great harm, the absence of it should surely be the fix. But magic isn’t something simply conjured, it is intertwined in the world itself. It hums with life. Merlin was born with the power of a sun. He has learned to keep it in his palms, unseen.

Arthur sits across from him. He wears a scarlet tunic, faded from use. His eyebrows are knit with indecision as they have been for the past couple minutes. Merlin glances down at the two cups of tea between them, steam coming off the tops. He cannot think of something to say, to make up for the lies. At the beginning they were out of necessity, Uther would've never stood for a sorcerer in the court. When Arthur became king though, the circumstances changed. Was there a better time? A moment Merlin could’ve told him by his own choice. Merlin is pulled from his thoughts as Arthur reaches for one of the cups. 

“The whole time?” Arthur's voice is not harsh, but Merlin is still struck by the suddenness of it. Does he mean the whole time they’ve known each other? The whole time he’s been king? He’s had magic his whole life, is he asking from the beginning? Merlin doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t break the king's gaze.

“Yes.”

Arthur expects him to go on, or maybe he too doesn’t know what to say, because another silence fills the air. Merlin knows his expression must be sorrowful, though he can’t seem to rid himself of it. 

Arthur turns the cup slowly on the table. “How much of it was a lie?” 

If Merlin was not already shattered, this would have broken the glass. Pinpricks form behind his eyes and he stifles them. He rolls his left shoulder back, letting the pain from the night before wash over him.

“I’m still your friend, that was always real.” Merlin can barely say the words. No explanation feels good enough for why he’s waited this long. He has no ulterior motive, nor was it something Arthur did wrong. Even through his arrogance he's had a soft soul. How can Merlin explain-

“You didn’t trust me.” 

The hurt in Arthur's voice is overwhelming. When Merlin brings his eyes up to meet his kings, he is struck by how much yearning lies in them. Here he sits, faced with an impossible choice, and he wants.

Merlin holds Arthurs gaze, “I do trust you.” It seems too simple. Thoughts swarm in his head, jumbling his words. 

Arthur adjusts his cup again, still having not taken a sip from it. His eyes drop to the worn wooden table. He places his cup to his side and winces, one of many injuries flaring up. 

“Is it your arm?” Merlin leans forward. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Arthur sighs, but his look of concentration doesn’t break. 

Merlin cocks his head. He tends to be the jumpier of the two of them, but Arthur hasn’t moved much at all today. 

“I can get Gaius if you’d like,” Merlin stands from his chair, “You shouldn’t let those cuts go unchecked.”

Arthur reaches out a hand to stop him, “Merlin, just leave it.” He shuts his eyes with the movement.

The injuries should be healing by now. Merlin makes his way past him to grab a tonic for the pain when he catches a glimpse Arthurs lower shirt. A dark patch has formed near his ribcage.

“Are you bleeding?” Merlin kneels at his side.

Arthur shakes his head, “I opened it this morning, it’s fine.”

“Arthur-”

“Merlin.” Arthur's eyes meet his again, this time wet with grief. Merlin stays there, hands frozen in the air between them. He looks up at his king, his friend, his other half. He is met with only warmth. 

Arthur places a hand on Merlin's injured shoulder. He thinks of yesterday's battle, of the chaos and franticness and fear. He replays the fight in his head. Of the collision with the ground, his pierced shoulder. They all fell away when he saw the sword find Arthur. Only a day ago the two of them were flipped. Arthur knelt, looking up at Merlin in awe. Merlin thinks of the aftermath, the rapid explanations, the dragon of embers he had conjured as he lay in bed, Arthur at his side. The choice has never felt like it was his. He wondered if Arthur felt the same way.

Merlin says something he’s already said the previous night.

“I'm sorry.”

Arthur draws his eyebrows together, “I know,” With his free hand, he takes Merlins, “I am too.” 

They stay that way for minutes. Merlin doesn’t know where he would begin, and Arthur doesn’t seem to think it matters. All the years they’ve spent together, a prince and his servant. A knight of camelot and his healer. The king and the sorcerer. Arthur, and Merlin. The longer he holds Arthur's hand, Merlin wonders what could ever change that.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, “If what you said last night is true, I imagine I owe you more than one life debt.”

This is what it comes down to. No matter how much love he holds for Merlin, Arthur is the king. He has to make a ruling that's just, and fair. 

“Then for the crime of sorcerey?” Merlin's stomach twists at calling sorcery a crime, “What have you decided?” The lantern on their right dims, its oil running out. He drops his head, letting his face brush against the hand still on his shoulder.

Arthur's voice is gentle, “That was never a decision I had to think about.”

Merlin snaps his head back up, confusion knit in his own brow. Magic is who Merlin is. It’s more than incantations, more than old scrolls. Magic binds the universe, Arthur himself was born of it. Sorcery has been outlawed for decades in Camelot, usually at the penalty of death. Yet for Merlin, Arthur didn’t consider such an outcome.

Arthur stands, hoisting Merlin up to him, “Come on, help me patch this cut up will you.” He lets himself be guided to the cot. As they sit, Merlin feels a spark inside him. He can’t pull his eyes away from Arthur.

“While you’re at it, why don’t you tell me how to make a poultice for that shoulder.” Arthur laughs under his breath, “Since I’ve got to do everything around here.” He lifts up his shirt, revealing the open gash. Merlin takes no time to get the supplies. 

“You know,” Merlin says, sitting next to him, “You really should’ve told Gaius about this sooner.” Merlin begins to treat Arthurs wound, hands working swiftly and soft. The air around them settles, an unasked question between the two answered. At least for now. When Arthur is bandaged up, he drops his shirt.

“I mean really,” Merlin smirks, “We can’t have the king collapsing from blood loss.”

“Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” A hand grips Merlin's shirt collar and tugs him forward.

The kiss is an eruption. It ignites the embers in Merlin, sets loose a flood, burns down the castles and walls, shakes all the trees in the forest. First a kiss, then a hand on his face, his own hand against Arthurs chest. Then there is only Arthur. From the day he arrived in Camelot, there was only ever Arthur.

When they break apart, Arthur’s eyes are full of love, same as always. He points to a lantern on Merlin's left.

“Show me again.”

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Timeless is Merthur coded

Mostly reincarnated Merthur coded but also some immortal Merlin feels

And the sign said, "Photos: twenty-five cents each". Black and white, saw a '30s bride. And school lovers laughin' on the porch of their first house. The kinda love that you only find once in a lifetime. The kind you don't put down And that's when I called you and it's so hard to explain But in those photos, I saw us instead

Now this could apply to immortal Merlin dreaming of time lost with Arthur. Or this could be just a sweet moment of one of their reincarnations seeing their romance in the pictures.

That's when I came upon a book covered in cobwebs Story of a romance torn apart by fate Hundreds of years ago, they fell in love, like we did

This is like the original romance of Merthur. They fell in love but things didn’t work out because destiny ruined things for them.

And I'd die for you in the same way if I first saw your face

Despite living in a safer era they still know they’d do anything for each other

In the fifteen hundreds off in a foreign land And I was forced to marry another man You still would've been mine

Arthur had many occasions where he was almost forced into a marriage (Elena, and Mithian) but Arthur never really loved them.

And run away and left it all behind. You still would've been mine

Arthur canonically dreamed of running away with Merlin, leaving all of his kingly duties just to live a simple life with Merlin.

'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine We would've been timeless

Merthurs meeting was destined. They were always going to come together. They are timeless.

The first time that you saw me The story started when you said, "Hello"

Ok this gets into my au and head canon territory. Because Merthur doesn’t have that cute hello moment (I do love their meeting though), but you know who does Nick and Charlie and that’s my favorite head canon for their reincarnation (I have read every Heartstopper and Merlin crossover fic on AO3)

We're gonna be I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made

Maybe this go around they can actually live out a full life together

Yeah no I heard this song and immediately thought of Merthur because I am really hyper fixated on Merthur and Taylor Swift

[bisclavret]

#once saw someone call gwaine ‘the straight one’ as if he hasn’t been ‘the gay one’ for a thousand years #having a thought. hang on #ppl have spent so long calling non-canon ships ‘subtext’ that they’re completely rewritten the meaning of the word subtext #so that when something is actual present cohesive subtext that immediately comes across as Weak Evidence#instead of a message that is simply… indirectly expressed #huh…

i don't particularly care what people write in their fics but i deeply agree with what you're saying and i think everyone would benefit from learning to separate the idea of queerbaiting (writing a gay-coded dynamic that seems like it's gonna lead somewhere so gay people will watch your show only to never let it lead anywhere), homophobic jokes/tropes at the expense of gay-coded characters, subtext and heavy gay-coding that can be recontextualized/dismissed/applied to other motives such as duty and magic, and the sort of writing that is almost entirely text but is subtle enough to get past censorship.

bbc merlin is unique in that it contains all of this and more and it applies to almost every character, but when it comes to gwaine you can eliminate queerbaiting pretty quickly as i don't think anyone deluded themselves that it would happen while watching the show the way merthur fans did (and i don't blame them! queerbaiting used to be an artform or whatever that one post said), and you can also eliminate any other motives gwaine could've had for loving and sticking by merlin (duty or magic) since he never outright found out about 99% of the magic plot and openly told merlin he isn't doing anything out of a sense of duty, just for his company and affection.

that leaves us with the gay/homophobic jokes, which i do think have been done at both gwaine and merlin's expense, gay-coding, which applies to almost the entire cast (but is the least metaphorical and most explicit in gwaine's case since, again, with him there's no duty or magic to serve as a metaphor or excuse), and the sort of writing that is not quite subtext but rather the sort of subtle, layered text that people writing about homosexual attraction have been using to get past censors since censors have existed.

the way gwaine and his affection for merlin are written are less reminiscent of "baiting" or "excusable" subtext and more reminiscent of dynamics like will and hannibal or marceline and bubblegum (before the networks relented) or the guys from the untamed (from what i understand) in that there is no other viable explanation for how the characters behave around one another, but they can't quite act on it or the episode just won't be allowed to air. and so instead the writers give them actions and dialogue that function as declarations of desire and love that may be a bit more roundabout than an outright "i love you" or physical touch, but still symbolize exactly those things on every single other narrative level. and this is how gwaine has been written from the moment he met merlin 14 years ago.

tl;dr it's not that serious but let's all be so fr for five seconds. gwaine, as the character that exists on the show we all watched, is not straight or a brother or mentor figure to merlin. he canonically adores merlin for pretty well spelled-out reasons that boil down to him being in love and unable to act on it due to the nature of the show/tv network. you can change that in your fic if you'd like, but it would be like changing something crucial about another character, such as taking away arthur's daddy issues or not giving lancelot a martyr complex. being bisexual and in love with the protagonist is a core part of who gwaine is, and if you take that away you have changed his character pretty drastically and you better have a good reason for keeping him in the story.

Since we’re all in agreement now that Gwaine is (sub)textually in L word (lesbians) with Merlin, can we stop no-homo-ing them in every fic 😭 if I have to see “Gwaine did all that because Merlin is like a brother to him” one more time I’m gonna create a zombifying parasite that takes humans as hosts and then also they ship merwaine because of the parasite and there is peace on earth. worm

[iamcaledonia]

Modern AU pre-slash merthur except it's just Merlin sending this picture to a group chat and everyone replying that if they know anyone who is twice as thick as most people and also just extremely British, it's obviously Arthur.

Arthur subsequently going into a dramatic rage and showing up at Merlin’s to 'discuss'.

Merlin just smirking at his beautiful himbo bestie.

[many-gay-magpies]

headcannon/au for the aspec bbcm gang: arthur's dream of living on a farm with merlin, except they're both aro/aspec and in a queerplatonic relationship. just merthur living their best domestic lives together, growing crops and raising animals, no romance in sight.

[ughmerlin]

If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.

Oscar Wilde

[enemy-archive]

I love the depth and detail that you go into when analyzing your obsession. this made me want to also write a bit more on the way this all happened for me, as I realized that I didn't really elaborate much about how this hyperfixation went in my case in the first post.

I read the GO book some time ago in my teens (±10 years ago?), when I read more fantasy, and some other stuff by Neil Gaiman as well. I liked GO and was of course, immediately invested in this love between Crowley and Aziraphale, I was really nice to read this kind of relationship, the closeness in spite of being enemies, and the ways they are with each other in the book overall. didn't go really deep into it though and moved on soon. I did enjoy the book greatly, and was a bit bummed about the cover which in my case looks like this…

Around this time, or a bit earlier, I was a huge sherlock fan, shipped johnlock hard, and was properly obsessed with sherlock holmes in general (from reading conan doyle as a child, to watching every tv and film adaptation and finally fixating on the bbc version). I liked and consumed a lot of cultural products, primarily British, and was into many ships (for example, merthur and destiel), but sherlock was a hyperfixation during my high school time. still I managed to somehow study and finish school and get into uni. over time, I got interested in other things; I needed to study and work, so I left tumblr (I remember cutting myself off of it, deleting my account and history, so there's nowhere to go back to, so it wouldn't interfere with my new life. I actually didn't go back then)

In 2020 during the quarantine, I watched season one of Good Omens — I was like, "alright, here we go: the book I liked + david tennant, + fucking michael sheen (I tell you, masters of sex did a weird thing to me), sounds like nostalgic fun". I watched it, and then went on with my life.

and then this september, I watched it absolutely accidentally. I don't even watch that much television anymore, but I was exhausted from work, had a free evening and my girlfriend was away so I wanted something comforting and escapist and there it was — season 2 of good omens. I was even a bit annoyed at the show at first (in retrospect, this might have been a self-defence reaction so that I don't get sucked in. I still want to respect this annoyance thought). I thought that all these scenes of crowley and aziraphale being so married were audacious queerbating, and then the kiss looked so stupid to me, and I thought that it was made to be ridiculous to maybe get away with queerbating, or as some kind of distasteful joke... I kept thinking how weird it was for this show, clearly made by a bunch of straight British middle-aged men, to have almost exclusively queer characters. This still bums me a bit, but I need to gather my thoughts to speak about this specifically. maybe queerbating is a spectrum.

I went on the comment section of the russian website where you can watch the shows fo free (don't at me, I can't watch it on amazon prime because my area is restricted due to my country launching a whole criminal fucking war on Ukraine). It just sort of popped in front of my eyes, this comment section, so I went there thinking, "maybe people also thought it was a bit ridiculous," and what I fucking saw. the whole 100+ comments hate towards the second season boiled down to the fact that they were "made gay" and to "too much agenda"("agenda" or "povestochka" is how homophobes call lgbt- and queer-related anything, and the connotation is that it's planted maliciously into russia by "the west" where everyone's gay). I just want to talk about it here because, guys, the homophobes. they don't even know. people literally write: it was a cool story of two BROS, just two DUDES hanging around being PALS, and THEN they spoiled it with the kiss. like to many people, this is a completely straight and "normal" tv show (except for annoying lesbians, I guess) that they like, until the last 15 minutes. to which I was like, excuse me?? didn't you see how these two clowns have literally loved each other since forever? even in the 1st season, the romantic bit is not confirmed, but who can deny that it's a love story? not comradery story…. so this got to me, and traumatized, I went looking for someone who feels the same way as I do. and I think that's how I got sucked in. I marveled at all the little gestures and half-expressions, analyzed all the plot and all the tiny hints, and re-read the book; I wanted to go deeper, to some point of total immersion into the thing that is between them. it wasn't annoying to me; I loved it.

I feel like this is getting too long.

@martinsharmony I really loved reading your post, because of course our experiences aren't the same, but there are similarities in them, that make me feel not so alone. I've spent two weeks really not being able to focus my mind on anything else (thank god it let go of me a bit, because I have really big changes in life to get to), feeling constantly drawn to this story and relationship, to the details of it, to metas and fanart, to fanfiction. my work is also flexible atm, so I could sort of afford to do this. it was just like with sherlock when I was in high school — and this feeling of lack was there again. so what is it a lack of?

in the part of your text you address this friendship or relationship that needs to cross over and become bigger — while I personally really don't like to discuss real and famous people's private lives and relationships (i imagine myself being a public person and feel actual terror at the thought of being perceived so hard), It was super interesting to me to read your thoughts about this — I talked with my friend who has similar experiences with reading yaoi manga, and she suggested that what lays under all of this, what attracts us — this big experience of transcending, love that transcends boundaries, rules, orders. love between angel and demon who've known each other for millennia is such a type of love; love between two men who grew up within a hetero-patriarchal order could also be this kind of love because they would need to transcend the limits within their brain and cultural programming.

and queer love in contemporary russia is such love as well because you have to defy the law and hate and totalizing homophobia, but it also comes with a heavy dose of reality: you have to think about coming out to your parents, people around you, and whether your relationships will change or not, you have to constantly hide a huge part of yourself, you have to figure out clever ways to be together or be yourself under pressure and danger, and it's exhausting. but it's so good to fictionalize this experience of transcending love and live through it without having to deal with immediate danger and pain.

I feel like I have so much more to say and I'm shit at formulating quickly. I loved reading your entry and am thankful that you've started this dialogue, I will continue later, and maybe in the meantime you'll want to write something too..

dear GO fandom,

I'm back to tumblr after literally ten years away. One evening, almost by accident, I stumbled upon season 2 of Good Omens. I watched it, and it launched a hyperfixation of the kind I haven't had in years.

I've just been noticing people here and there on this website mentioning that they're also back to tumblr after many years, and I'm curious what's up, like, how big is this phenomenon, and could it be something to do particularly with Good Omens, or is it something else?

personally, I'm taking pleasure in experiencing something I did as a teen, this obsession, and this fandom as a huge community of wonderfully creative, brilliant, and observant people worldwide who are going through the same thing. (It's low-key ruining my life and ability to focus on work and my responsibilities, but I manage).

It's also hugely about escaping from the homophobic reality that surrounds me, so I get to go drown myself in the love story of two unearthly beings, which is fiction, and fiction has its rules, so eventually, everything will be okay...

I also have a feeling of a drop going deep somewhere near, like this dramatic and fundamental lack of something in life that I can feel more clearly when I drown myself in thinking about this relationship.

that all and also the trap constellation of

*book I've read as a teen**loving neil gaiman writing* *LOVING john finnemore**having been huge doctor who fan in the past and obv being fond of david tennant**being mysteriously pulled in by michael sheen in masters of sex**just being obsessed with British things as a baby**heaps of queer representation to feel safe* etc... so the whole thing just feels like home to me.

These are really unformed thoughts, and what I was really interested in is whether anyone else feels something like that in regard to GO or not, and what are your thoughts about your experiences? Maybe there's already been a discussion on that, and I just haven't found it yet. Anyway, I just find this all really really fascinating.

[merlins-sexy-magic]

Arthur: *gets a ransom note saying “surrender Camelot or you’ll never see the love of your life again”*

Arthur: *bursts into the dungeons panicking* MERLIN

Arthur: *sees Guinevere tied to a chair* oh

idea from this post

[nothingweirdhere]

x / x

[disasterbispn]

Merlin text post meme: Onion and Reductress headlines edition

[weakforarwen]

The Fires of Irdisholas is a very good episode, maybe even the best in season 2 (though I have a soft spot for The Once and Future Queen). It was a truly exciting and engaging episode from start to finish: plot-driven, with no filler scenes (re: unnecessary Merthur banter), good characterization, and a fair amount of humor and action.

There wasn't much Arwen, but Gwen had her fair share of screentime and what little Arwen we got was great. I loved that when Arthur found Gwen passed out in Morgana's room he immediately picked her up and laid her down on the bed. There was a perfectly suitable sofa next to where Gwen had fainted, but Arthur still chose to place a servant on a lady's bed. The fact that Gwen "took" Morgana's bed because Arthur decided it was clearly symbolic. He even moved a lock of hair from Gwen's face and silently gazed at her making sure she was okay. It's hilarious that Arthur was so rough with his father and so gentle with Gwen, but Arthur was a manly man who couldn't show softness to other men, and, also, to Arthur: Gwen >>> Uther.

It's impressive how well Arthur fought in the episode. At one point he could barely keep his eyes open because of the spell but still fought all seven of the Knights of Medhir while Merlin was busy poisoning Morgana. Had Merlin been around, Arthur wouldn't have been able to fight even one of them, but because Merlin wasn't around, Arthur was practically invincible. It's always like that.

I really love how Arthur and Merlin arrived from their excursion to a lifeless, ghost palace. It was like a painting... Imagine having a town all to yourself for a day, getting to do whatever you want? Obviously, it wasn't very exciting for Arthur and Merlin because Camelot was under attack, but it's still an exciting thought and a powerful visual.

Merlin is a very good liar. The story he made up on the spot about why Morgana wasn't asleep like everyone else was great. He sold it better than Morgana - she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She was so naive and vulnerable in season 2. It's so weird, because she was so badass in season 1, but, in season 2, she was a wallflower - did nothing all day, had no one to talk to (she wasn't really close to Gwen anymore), didn't even seem to be all there most of the time. She must've been miserable, which boded well for Morgause. Her characterization was truly so inconsistent.

Something that still confuses me about this episode is figuring out how much Morgana knew about what was happening. She talked to Morgause at night and then woke up the next day without knowing what Morgause had done to her. So, when people started falling ill, it seemed like she was genuinely surprised and frightened. At the same time, she must've put two and two together. Yet she helped protect Uther because she had no other choice and hadn't been ready to kill Uther herself. She certainly hadn't wanted to hurt Merlin, Arthur, or anyone else either. She still saw Merlin as a friend.

That's why what happens to her is so fucked up. I believe that Merlin believed he had no choice. But, didn't he? Had it been anyone else, like Arthur or Gwen, would he have killed them? Perhaps he would've thought them incapable of betraying Camelot, unlike Morgana who had already tried to kill Uther, but she hadn't given any evidence that she wanted to hurt anyone. Merlin gave up on her too quickly. He had many reasons to believe she was working with Morgause - she was the only one awake, Kilgharrah said the spell was bound to her, and she hated Uther - but no reason to believe she had become evil or was beyond saving. Kilgharrah is to blame because he told Merlin that Morgana was evil. In fact, he said:

I have warned you about her in the past, but you have failed to take heed. She is dangerous!

That's what really convinced Merlin that Morgana was dangerous. In the past, he hadn't believed that Morgana was evil but was "proven" wrong in this episode, so he felt responsible and acted rashly. But up until this episode Morgana hadn't done anything evil and Merlin hadn't had any reason to doubt her. Kilgharrah made Merlin believe everything that happened in this episode could've been avoided if only Merlin had listened to him. In reality, if Merlin hadn't listened to Kilgharrah in The Nightmare Begins, then Morgana likely would've known Merlin had magic in season 2, and things would've worked out very differently. Furthermore, Merlin didn't endanger Camelot by not heeding Kilgharrah's advice, because Morgana wasn't to blame for the spell Morgause cast on Camelot. Kilgharrah cleverly placed the blame on Merlin and Morgana though, so Merlin felt pressured to kill her. "I have warned you about her in the past, but you have failed to take heed." That's a disingenuous and manipulative way of phrasing it. In the past, he had warned Merlin about Morgana without proof. Just because he was right this time, it didn't mean Merlin should've listened to him in the past - what happened in this episode could've been an isolated incident.

Furthermore, if Morgana had only been a vessel for the spell, did she have to die? Couldn't Merlin have simply killed Morgause? Kilgharrah had wanted Morgana dead, but Merlin probably hadn't needed to kill her at all. Like Gaius said:

It was only after the sorcerer herself was killed that the Knights of Medhir finally grew still. 

It's possible that the first sorcerer who raised the Knights had also been the vessel, but it makes complete sense that killing the sorcerer would've ended the spell. If Morgause had needed a living vessel to perform the spell, that's probably because she couldn't have done it all by herself, unless she had just wanted to include Morgana... But how could Morgause have drawn strength from her own body? The first witch probably had her own vessel to draw strength from as well, yet killing her stopped the Knights. Kilgharrah called Morgana the source of the spell, but hadn't Morgause been the source too?

And how did Kilgharrah know about the spell in the first place? And that Morgana was the source? Usually, Merlin had to tell him why he needed help before he could give it, but, this time, Kilgharrah already knew everything before Merlin spoke a word.

I felt bad for Morgana. Merlin was very unfair to her - he would've given anyone else a second chance. It was clear Morgana had been hiding something from him, but she had also looked scared and lost most of the time. Merlin saw how scared she was when one of the Knights made to kill her. She called out to him for help. Did that look like a woman who was responsible for the spell? Even if the Knight let Morgana go, instead of confirming his suspicions, it should've given Merlin pause - Morgana had looked genuinely clueless. The only time she showed awareness was when Merlin mentioned Morgause.

Merlin felt terrible for what he did, but he acted wrong. He'd been ready to kill Morgana. Why didn't he try to simply weaken her? Take her to the brink of death and then give her an antidote, like in Beauty and the Beast or Goblin's Gold? Why didn't he first try to find the real sorcerer? Even on a time crunch, Morgana had deserved better.

Lastly, this episode would've been better had Katie been a stronger actress at this point in the series. Tbh, her acting was pretty bad in this episode. I also didn't like a lot of Merlin's facial expressions. I couldn't love Merlin in the first seasons because I often thought Colin's facial expressions were a bit... creepy? I like his acting a lot in season 5, and also in season 4, but in seasons 1-3 sometimes I found his acting choices off-putting and felt uncomfortable watching him...

[bellamyblakru]

For the adorable cliche prompts 49 & Merthur ❤️

oh my god i am so sorry for how late this is. like im months late. i apologize 😭😭my writing drive has been so shit, but i got the random urge today and i wrote like over 4,000 words in one sitting💀💀 i hope this is okay!!! again, i am so sorry akskksks i hope you like it, my lovely mutual❤️❤️

ill add it under the cut and it is right here on ao3! without further ado, i present: merthur + anxiety + you caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out

Merlin smiled at the servants as he passed them.

One step in front of the other, the warlock smiled on, ignoring the growing blood stain beneath his tunic. He was lightheaded, growing more unsteady as he walked through the darkened halls of the castle. He could make it to his chambers, he knew, if he just willed a bit more magic to staunch the flow of the wound. 

He paused in the middle of an abandoned corridor, leaning his head against the cold stone of the wall as he focused his power. His magic flickered sadly, already working overtime to keep him conscious. But, as always, it answered his call. Merlin felt his magic simmer over the injury as he let out a small breath of relief. 

Straightening up, Merlin stumbled his way into Gaius’s workroom, and he did not collapse until he made it to his small room in the back. 

He stared and stared at the ceiling, wondering if anyone else could feel the world spinning. He figured he should worry about that, but his magic prickled his mind then—reminding him to sleep. 

So, Merlin relented, and he fell instantly into a restless slumber. 

Waking up with a gasp, the warlock shot up in his bed. He narrowed his eyes at the light coming through his window, wondering how on earth he got here. The last thing he remembered was reading the threat against Arthur that was hidden in the king’s letters and thinking how to stop it…but the rest of the day came back blurry. He shook his head. The day needed to start—even if Merlin couldn’t remember what he did the day before, even as that thought slightly terrified him.

He moved to the edge of the bed, swinging his feet over, and he tried to stand up. The minute his feet touched the ground, the room swayed, and he came crashing back onto his cot. Merlin groaned at the searing pain in his abdomen. Lifting his tunic, he gently prodded the bruised area that covered most of his torso. 

His answer was solved, then. He must have found the threat and eradicated it, and this was his gift for doing so. Grimacing, Merlin slowly got to his feet and limped to his mirror. Looking over to his left, the warlock saw some wrapping he could use to cover the damage. Doing so, rather gingerly, he frowned at the ache. His magic usually smoothed away these pain and bruises quickly—it was why a bruise never lasted more than a few hours on him. Shrugging the thought away, however, figuring it must be taking a bit more power than usual, he threw on his purple tunic and plastered a smile on his face. 

By the time Merlin arrived at Arthur’s door with breakfast, a sweat had broken out against his neck and back. Panting a bit, Merlin shoved the wooden door open revealing an already awoken Arthur staring through the window.

“You’re late.” Merlin heard Arthur grumble.

“Yeah, sorry.” Merlin couldn’t think of a lie that suited him, so that’s all he said.

Arthur turned around. “That’s it? ‘Sorry’?”

Merlin grinned. Arthur rolled his eyes, moving to sit at his desk where Merlin dropped off his food. Arthur watched him tidy up the room for a few moments before blurting out: “Let’s go out.” 

Merlin turned around, an eyebrow raised. “Out?”

Merlin swore he saw Arthur’s cheeks redden. The king coughed. “With the knights. You know, like a hunting trip.”

Laughing a bit at Arthur’s rushed sentence, Merlin smiled. “When shall we depart?”

Arthur straightened up, tilting his head to regard his servant. “Today.”

“Okay.” Merlin saw Arthur’s palpable relief at the word, though he couldn’t fathom why. “Is everything alright, Arthur?”

Arthur smiled brightly. “I’m fine, Merlin.” 

The warlock narrowed his eyes. “If you say so.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, Arthur focused on eating and the paperwork in front of him as Merlin started grabbing the laundry thrown about. He hid his flinch as he bent down, stifled the cry wanting to escape his throat as he walked to the dresser. 

He needed to get out of here before Arthur noticed. 

“I’ll go prepare the provisions and tell the knights.” Merlin didn’t hear Arthur's response as he ran out the door, quickly shutting it and leaning against the cool wood. The guards barely blinked at his behavior—they were quite used to oddities at this point. Merlin nodded to them as he continued down the corridor. 

Today was going to be difficult, and he couldn’t imagine it would end well at this rate. 

Forcing his magic to his core, Merlin sent messages to the roundtable and to the kitchen before he found his way back to Gaius’s workroom. He was sat at the table, head in his hands, when Elyan walked into the room. 

“Merlin?”

Merlin shot his head up, regretting it when the room twisted. Blinking, he looked at the knight who somehow was sitting beside him. Merlin saw Elyan’s lips moving, so he tried to focus. 

“—lin, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Merlin narrowed his spinning focus on Elyan’s concerned eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

Elyan scoffed. “I find that hard to believe, my friend.”

Merlin tried to smile. “I swear. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Elyan’s eyes softened even more. “No, everything is okay. Arthur sent me to fetch you. We are leaving, remember?”

Merlin blinked again. How long have I’ve been out?

“Of course.” Merlin shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face. “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

Elyan narrowed his eyes. “Merlin, you don’t seem well. I don’t want you to hurt yourself more. I’ll tell Arthur you can’t-“

“No, no, I’m okay. I can come.”

That didn’t seem to convince the knight, if the doubtful look on his face was any indication. “Merlin, you are a part of my family, and if you need to stay home, I’ll stay with you. Make sure you get better. Arthur won’t fuss if I make an excuse for us both. Maybe Gwen, you, and I could go on another picnic, yeah?”

Merlin smiled at the memory of their last adventure together. “That does sound tempting, but I am truly okay! Look!” He got up and did a little spin, making Elyan laugh at the dramatics. 

“Okay, okay. I believe you. But don’t think I won’t keep an eye on you, little brother.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Merlin grinned, pulling the knight into a strong hug, his heart feeling more full than it has in a long time. 

“We are leaving in a few moments, I’ll meet you there?”

Merlin nodded, promising to be there on time, and when the knight vanished, as did Merlin’s brief energy. Chiding himself on not taking Elyan’s offer, Merlin forced his legs to stumble into his room to throw some articles into his bag. He double checked his wrappings, and he raced out the door. 

He felt his magic flicker at his movements—it wasn’t pleased to be keeping him conscious and healing at the same time. Sighing through his teeth, he shook his head before smiling brightly at the knights. Elyan rolled his eyes while Gwaine ran up to him and pulled him into a spinning hug.

“It’s been too long, Merls!” Gwaine ruffed his hair when he put him down, a wild grin on his face.

Merlin laughed, swatting away the knight’s hand. “I saw you yesterday!”

Gwaine put his hand on his heart, a fake pout on his face. “You haven’t missed me?”

Merlin nodded, trying to ruffle Gwaine’s hair back, who squealed and ran behind Percy for protection. 

Lance walked towards him with Merlin’s mare in one hand. “How are you Merlin?” Lance whispered so only he could hear. 

Merlin took his horse, stroking her neck. “I’ve been better.”

Lance frowned. “Are you hurt?”

Merlin opened his mouth to lie, but Arthur was already on top of his horse yelling at them to hurry up or they would be left behind. Merlin shrugged his shoulders to Lance, who narrowed his eyes, but they both hopped up their respective horses. 

The ride hurt his side—a lot. Each trot sent pangs of fire through his body, rippling in his veins, spreading a wild, uncontrollable pain that caused Merlin to bite his cheeks to keep himself from yelling. 

He didn’t make a noise, though. He never does.

He stayed behind the pack, trying to feel the magic of the earth around him. The trees, the birds, the ground—all of it magic, all of it welcoming Merlin with no hesitation. He smiled slightly, his head tilted towards the sun trying to shine through the foliage. Hearing someone slow down, he forced himself to open his eyes at his companion.

Arthur watched him, curious, staring openly at him.

“May I help you, sire?” 

Arthur did a half smile at the tone. “Just…thinking, I suppose.”

Merlin opened his mouth to say his quip, but he audibly, and dramatically, snapped it shut when he saw the look on Arthur’s face—the king laughed, causing Merlin to stare at the other now. He loved Arthur’s laugh. It didn’t happen as much as Merlin would like, but the time he got it out of the man always felt like a prize like no other.

All the pain in the world would be worth hearing that sound again.

Arthur’s amused face looked away from Merlin, assessing the small clearing they just wandered into. 

“We can make camp here.”

Merlin immediately jumped off his horse, grateful for his tight wrapping he applied this morning. The bandages feeling like the only thing keeping him whole. 

“I’ll get firewood!” Merlin yelled, not waiting for anyone to say anything else as he all but ran into the forest, towards the running water he could hear was close by. Three steps in, he heard someone walking behind him. 

He sighed. “Lancelot. Why are you following me?”

The man in question caught up to him easily enough, and then right passed him, looking at the ground for usable wood.

“Well, my magical friend, as you are in pain and have not answered my previous question, I figured I could take it upon myself to annoy you until you broke in and told me what was going on with you.”

Merlin grumbled. “I’m fine.”

Lance didn’t stop searching, barely blinking at the obvious lie. 

Sighing, Merlin grabbed Lance’s arm, stopping his friend’s theatrics. “Look, I just hurt myself yesterday and it hasn't been healing properly. It’s fine, I’m fine.”

Lance quickly poked Merlin’s side, earning a loud gasp from the warlock. Merlin looked at Lance with wide eyes, shocked. “What the fuck, Lance?”

Lance scoffed. “Fine my ass, Merlin. If you say that one more time, I’ll throw you in the river.” 

Merlin scowled, while Lance just rolled his eyes. “Now, you’re going to go back to camp and let me finish collecting firewood.” And right when Merlin was about to protest, Lance glared at him. “No complaining. I am going to make sure you’re not going to do anything else stupid and hurt yourself more. Merlin,” here Lancelot’s eyes were soft, “I am here for you, always. And I am not letting you hurt yourself more.”

Merlin smiled softly, giving in and hugging the knight. “Thank you, Lance. You know I love you?”

Lance grinned, pushing Merlin gently towards the others. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

Merlin hugged himself as he walked slowly back to camp. If Lance could tell, then maybe he wasn’t as good as hiding his pain as he originally thought. He frowned as he continued, his thoughts moving towards the noticeable silence of the surrounding forest. It seemed a bit too quiet, but he pushed the thought away. I’m starting to sound like Arthur, he thought with a small huff. 

Walking into the clearing, Merlin spotted Gwaine and Percy bent in an intense conversation, Elyan and Arthur parrying in the center, and their sleeping mats all nicely arranged in a circle, so he figured it would be a good time as any to start preparing dinner. Working diligently helped keep his mind off himself. As his thoughts wandered, he didn’t notice the small cracks of sticks and dried leaves coming from the other side of the clearing. 

He did see the shadowy movements, however, right before they attacked. Merlin got up quickly, shouting out an alarm that was just a few seconds too late. And the last thing Merlin saw before he was knocked out was Arthur yelling at him, and then nothing but blackness.

Merlin woke up with a resounding headache. He tried to move his hands, but he forced his eyes open when he realized they were tightly bound. 

He squinted in the bright firelight, seeing many figures encased in darkness. 

“Finally! The warlock awakens.” 

Merlin shook his head, confused. “What?” He said through his gag.

“Ungag him, will you? Let the man talk.”

Someone close to him stepped forwards, the face unremarkable and void of any expression as he roughly took off the covering.

Merlin spit blood to the side before he squinted up once more. “And you are?” Merlin said, sounding bitter and a bit bored. This shit always happens to them.

“Call me Aren.” The man said, the smile heard in his voice, as he stepped into Merlin’s view. He was a tall man with black hair and onyx colored eyes that glinted from the fire.

“Should that mean something to me?” Merlin inquired, knowing that pissing people off was usually his specialty.

Aren’s smile vanished. “We met yesterday. Don’t I look familiar?”

Merlin leaned forwards on his knees, tilting his head. “Hmm, I can’t recall. Though, I don’t usually give many of my enemies much thought.”

That made Aren grin, and Merlin took the quick pause to look more closely around him. All the knights were tied with two or three of their attackers holding them in place. Lance was here, too, so they must have caught him unawares as well. Merlin looked to Arthur next, who was glaring daggers at this Aren man. 

Aren hummed, walking around him. “How is your wound?”

Merlin saw Lance and Elyan straighten at that as Arthur’s head snapped towards the warlock. Merlin feigned confusion. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

The leader nodded to the person to Merlin’s left, and Merlin barely had a second to understand what was going to happen before the man kicked him squarely in the abdomen. 

Merlin screamed as he fell to the ground.

Aren clicked his mouth, disappointed. “See what happens when you lie?”

Merlin grunted, managing to bring himself back to his knees. He felt the blood soaking through his shirt, the color draining from his face, the intensity of the stares of his friends—from horror, or from fear, Merlin couldn’t tell.

“What do you want?” Merlin spit, getting slightly pissed off now. 

Aren shrugged. “What do any of us want, Merlin?”

The warlock lifted his gaze, finally realizing what the man said at the beginning. Warlock. This man knows I’m a warlock. Merlin quickly looked at Arthur in horror. The king looked steadily back at him, no hint of repulsion or betrayal or anger. Maybe he didn’t hear Aren say it, Merlin prayed to any of the gods that was true. 

“Ahh there it is!” Aren cheered. “The recognition. You were quicker yesterday.”

Merlin growled. “And why is it that I can’t remember anything about our little encounter?”

Aren looked to his left, grabbing someone’s hand. “Ah yes. That would be the work of my lady, Taryn. Say hello dear.”

The girl smiled, the expression more wild than not, and did a slight bow before sliding back into the darkness. Aren then watched with clear amusement as Merlin tried to use magic against the bindings. “My dear boy, what are we? Novices?” He scoffed. “We are quite skilled, I’ll have you know.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit who you are or what you know.” A quick pause before Merlin continued: “How about we make a deal?”

Merlin heard Arthur start protesting through his gag knowing what Merlin was going to say, but the warlock tried to ignore him and the unease settled in his gut.

“Yes?” Aren said lightly.

“You can have me, without a fight, if you let my friends go. They are innocents.”

The leader laughed, loudly. “I would hardly call these men innocent, Merlin. They’ve aided and abetted the king of Camelot’s hatred of magic. Watched as true innocents were killed, watched as the king did nothing but stand to the side as our people burned. No one here is innocent.” He snarled the last part towards the group, making them look down in shame. 

“Still,” Merlin pleaded, “you have me, right? That’s all you came for. Let them go.”

Aren’s face darkened a bit, but he still seemed to consider the offer. “Willingly?”

Merlin vehemently nodded, knowing that he had mere minutes before the blood loss made him pass out. 

Aren turned towards Taryn, as Merlin quickly counted how many people there were. Thirteen held his friends down, two were to his left, two to his right, three in front. 

20 people, Merlin mused, shouldn’t be too hard. Right?

He let himself glance at Arthur, who turned to look at him at the same time. Arthur’s eyes didn't look angry, or betrayed, only fierce with a hint of distress. Merlin looked at his King for strength, knowing that if he didn’t believe their captors about his magic, he would soon. And Merlin wanted to remember his face like this—strong, unyielding, protective. His king, soon to be his doom. Merlin shut his own eyes, swallowing the terror of what he was about to do in front of his friends. If he were to die from this either way, at least his friends would make it out alive. 

With resignation and determination pounding in his blood, Merlin opened his eyes. He heard the gasps of everyone, and he knew his eyes were no longer the color of the sky, but a fiery gold. Aren snapped his head at the noise, eyes widening at Merlin.

“That’s not possible,” the man shook his head violently, “the cuffs—“

Merlin gave him a feral smile before the world ignited into a burning white light. 

Landing on his face, Merlin felt his energy quickly fade into a numbness. He laid there, breathing unsteadily, when he felt hands lift him up.

Elyan, Gwaine, and Lance surrounded him, the latter two holding him on his feet as Elyan took out his sword in front of them, Percy quickly joining the knight in front. 

Merlin coughed out blood, whimpering a little at the lack of any feeling in his body. His eyesight was blurred, but he saw Arthur stand up slowly, his hands raised like he was taming wild animals.

Merlin gasped, remembering, albeit slowly, what happened. He stumbled away, his breathing quickening, his heart pounding too quickly, too quickly. He fell, the pain in his side returning full force. The knights tried to help him, but he pushed them away, tears streaming down his face. “No, no, no,” Merlin cried, “I’m going to die. He is going to kill me.”

He saw Lance and Gwaine quickly look at each other, fear on their faces, as they stepped towards him. Merlin sobbed. “No, no, no. Get away from me. No, no!”

He couldn’t breathe. The ground started spinning beneath him, the trees started falling towards him, he heard screams, but that could’ve been himself, as the world crashed into blackness once more.

“aking up? Gaius!”

Merlin couldn’t move. His eyes felt like they had been sewn shut, and his throat felt like he had been screaming for hours on end.

“Ga’s?” Merlin rasped out, reaching out his hand for his father figure.

“I’m here, my boy, I’m here.” Gaius touched his hand, feeling his forehead with the other. “Your fever has finally gone away.” Merlin heard Gaius move away for a moment, only to return with a glass of water. He forced his eyes to open, lifting them to the court physician.

“How do you feel, Merlin?”

After gulping down the entire cup, Merlin sighed contentedly. “Like absolute shit.”

Gaius chuckled. “I would imagine.” The man helped Merlin into a sitting position, the pain in his side almost nonexistent.

“What happened, Gaius?”

Merlin looked past his caretaker, eyes landing on the king. “Arthur? Why-?”

The sad look on Arthur’s face was enough to remind Merlin exactly what happened. Merlin gasped, looking towards Gaius in terror, “Gaius had nothing to do with it, my lord. I promise.” And then remembering what the knights did, he quickly added, “Neither did the knights, I swear on my life. If I am to burn, please keep them out of it. I’ll do anything, just please don't hurt them.”

Arthur’s face fell even more, the hurt shining brightly in the king’s eyes. At the moment of silence, Gaius rubbed Merlin’s back and whispered, “Merlin, Arthur knew. It’s okay, we are all going to be okay.” And with that, the man left them alone.

Merlin couldn’t think straight. His thoughts flew faster than ever, trying to connect the pieces he was obviously missing.

“Merlin…” Arthur whispered, his voice sounding scratchy from disuse. Now that Merlin actually looked at him, the king looked horrible. His blonde hair disheveled, his stubble longer than normal, his shirt and pants dirty, his eyes baring darkness indicating he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time.

“Arthur..?” Merlin said softly, a question, a concern.

Arthur got up then, and he started pacing. Merlin could do nothing but watch as his king—his light, his reason for living—pulled violently at his hair. Confused, Merlin wanted to comfort Arthur, as always, but as he tried to get up, his legs immediately failed him. Merlin closed his eyes, expecting to hit the floor hard, when he felt strong hands hold him up.

“Merlin! You need to sit down and rest, what are you doing?”

Merlin held onto Arthur, his hands finding their way to his king’s shoulders to steady himself. They locked eyes for a minute, or for an hour—Merlin couldn’t tell—before Merlin broke it with a quiet question. “Do you hate me?”

Arthur tensed beneath his hands, and Merlin’s heart fell. It was too much to wish that this wasn’t the end. Merlin tried to stop his tears from coming, but it was no use. His heart was broken. He felt broken.

“No, no! Why are you crying, Merlin? Are you in pain?” Arthur sounded genuinely concerned, breaking Merlin even more.

“I’m fine.” Merlin tried to push himself away from him, but Arthur held on steadfast.

“Merlin, look at me, please Merlin.” And after a few beats, Merlin did. He saw Arthur’s beautiful cerulean eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I don’t hate you.”

That made Merlin’s knees weak, but Arthur didn’t let go, and he didn’t stop talking, either. It was almost like once Arthur started, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t hate you, and I don’t think I ever could, if I’m being honest. You know what I am? Angry. Not at you keeping your secrets, or lying to me for years. I worked through that all already—I’ve been doing it for months. I always came to the same question, though. Why? Why risk yourself like this? Why help me? Why stay at my side when I’ve been unworthy of that devotion? That question wouldn’t leave me alone. I would watch you tidy up my room, humming, and wonder what on earth is keeping you at my side? At first, I was angry. Angry that you lied, angry that you were the enemy the entire time, angry that everything we had was a lie.”

Arthur tighten his hold after Merlin flinched at the words, and the king started rubbing absentminded circles on the warlock’s skin.

“But, after keeping you at a distance for a week, I’m not sure if you remember that,” Merlin did. Vividly. Arthur wouldn’t let him near him, and he wouldn’t tell Merlin why. But after that week, they returned to semi-normacy. Merlin was unsure what happened, and Arthur still held himself tightly whenever Merlin entered the room.

“I realized how stupid I was. I asked Gaius to tell me everything, not that he did it easily. He refused to know anything I was talking about,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “like I would ever believe that. But after a few days, and countless promises that I meant no harm, he told me. I was in shock for a bit after. Gaius said he didn’t have all the details, and that I should talk to you, but I was scared. Merlin. I was scared to find out why.”

Merlin still couldn’t stop the tears from falling as Arthur gently lowered him onto the cot, the king sitting next to him, still rubbing those damn patterns onto Merlin’s skin.

“Watching you for a couple more days, I started scolding myself for my own cowardice. I started thinking why the question mattered that much, why I cared at all for someone who obviously never truly trusted me. I get it, though, Merlin,” here Arthur stared directly into Merlin’s eyes, not wavering for a second, “why you never told me. Fuck, I wouldn’t have told me either if I was in your place. When did I ever give you a reason to?” Arthur scoffed at himself, still tensed and worked up.

Merlin couldn’t get a word in before Arthur continued on. “And last week, I decided enough is enough. I needed to tell you I knew. It wasn’t fair of me to keep it from you, not when you live your life in such a constant state of fear of Camelot’s laws. I needed to tell you how I was almost done rewriting the laws, how close I was to freeing your people, how sorry I was for being so idiotically blinded by my father’s hatred. And when you agreed to go to the hunt with me, I was already prepared with my speech. With you and my knights, I was going to explain the changes I was making, and I thought that would be the perfect time to tell you I knew.”

Arthur got up again, walking back and forth. “Of course it all went to shit, though, because when can we ever get a break? And, gods, Merlin, I was so angry at you for putting yourself in more danger! What was that? Not telling me you were hurt? I had to find out by some assholes kicking you so hard that you scream in pain! Merlin,” the king turned to face him, walking back to the cot, “the sound almost broke me.”

Merlin’s tears were a steady companion as Arthur took up his seat once more, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “You were in agony, and I couldn’t do anything! Powerless, and terrified, and fucking useless. When you looked at me before turning into white hot flame, I saw your fear, your terror, your resignation that this was your end. I screamed, then, when you closed your eyes. I screamed at the men holding me, at the world for watching this happen, at the gods who did nothing to help. But you,” Arthur shook his head, eyes full of amazement, “You lit up. You burned so brightly, I had to shut my eyes. I’ve never seen such raw power, Merlin, you were brilliant.”

Merlin repeated the word quietly to himself, brilliant.

Arthur shook his head again, his eyes darkening. “After that, you started freaking out. You were sobbing, yelling you couldn’t breathe, backing away from everyone. Even as the knights tried to tell you that they understood, that they knew, you didn’t believe them. Gaius says you were delirious from the blood loss and the use of such magic, and it scared me. I thought we were going to lose you,” Arthur’s absentminded rubbing returned, the feeling burning through Merlin’s skin.

“The knights, Merlin, you should’ve seen them. Elyan and Percy had their weapons towards me, as Gwaine tried to help Lance pick you up. But you wouldn’t let them, saying for them to run, that they needed to get out of there. Lancelot managed to calm you down enough that you passed out, but no one moved. They were ready to protect you until their last breath, even if that meant leaving me behind to get you to safety. I explained to them quickly what I knew, and they immediately moved aside to let me near you. I had to get to you, and I think the knights saw that too.

We carried you to the horses and rode to Camelot, faster than anything we’ve ever done before. Gaius was able to stop the bleeding, but you had such a high fever for days. I didn’t leave your side. I wouldn’t. The knights came in at the beginning, and they promised me that you would be fine if I left for a moment, but I couldn’t move. You thought I hated you, I saw it in your eyes, and every time I closed my own, that was the only thing I saw. They realized it was quite a lost cause and they began to take turns staying with us, each of them telling me how they came to realize your magic. Elyan found out accidentally through Gwen, who threatened him if he harmed you in anyway, Gwaine apparently always had an inkling, ever since the plate incident when we first met him, and Percy said he had no idea, but he knew what kind of person you are and he would defend you to his dying breath.”

Merlin’s breathing hitched, the overwhelming feeling of acceptance smothering his lungs.

“Lancelot was the fiercest, if you were wondering. It took a lot of explaining on my part before he let me near you again. I knew Lancelot’s loyalty was with you, but the depth of it shook me to my core. All the knights seem more loyal to you, it seems, than their own king,” here Arthur smiled, “and I am proud of that, of them. They knew you, all of you, and did not hesitate to protect. I knew I made the correct choice picking my roundtable, wouldn’t you agree?”

Merlin nodded, still stunned enough by it all that he couldn’t say a word.

Arthur grabbed his hand then, turning himself towards the warlock. “So, no, Merlin. I do not hate you. I was mad that you put yourself at danger once again, so please stop doing that. You’re going to put me in an early grave from worry, and I think Gaius and the knights agree with me.”

Merlin gave a wet laugh, “I can’t promise that, Arthur, you know that.”

Arthur’s soft smile returned, and Merlin couldn’t help but stare at the man’s face. This was the king he chose, here was the reason he put himself at danger. Arthur wiped away Merlin’s tears, and Merlin leaned into the touch as Arthur’s fingers gently stroked his cheek.

They had so much more to discuss and to plan, but for now, Merlin let himself feel acceptance for the first time since he’s moved to Camelot. He let himself feel loved, cared for, understood.

No, this wasn’t the end of anything, Merlin realized, only the beginning of something greater.

[airplanelanding]

Title: BEFORE US, Pairing: Merthur because you were so goshdarn good so i forced you to write more hehe. if you're too tired you can write some of them later but i figured since you were super fast, you can have another oneeee

I'm not tired at all!! I don't go to bed until like 3-5am and it's not even close to that yet, so you're good! I love doing this so much.

Title: Before Us

Summary:

"Do you think our fathers ever imagined you and I would be here today?" Merlin suddenly asked one evening as Arthur toyed with his hair in bed.

The blond King paused and leaned back, looking curiously at his betrothed. "What do you mean?"

Merlin just shrugged, sitting up on his elbows.

"Here, engaged, to be married in a sennight... They were close at one point, before the purge, do you think they ever thought our families would be so close again?"

Or

Long before the purge, Balinor Ambrosius had been a well-known and loved nobleman of Uther's court, and a close friend of the King himself.

They traded laughs, stories, advice, and provided aid when the other needed it. Ygraine would make jokes of their closeness all the time: "be careful," she would say, "the court may begin to think you're married to him instead of me."

After the purge, after the betrayal of a best friend, no one could have imagined the Ambrosius and Pendragon lines uniting again.

That is, until Merlin met Arthur, and everything the prince knew changed before his eyes.

Ft. Secret Nobleborn Merlin and Balinor & Uther past friendship.

I saw "before us" and rly just immediately thought "dad friends dad friends dad friends" 😂😂

send me a title and ship and see what I can spill onto a page about it