#gorgeous merthur

[justaz]

visiting nobles/lords/royals quickly notice that merlin has arthur’s ear and that arthur values merlin’s opinion above all others. when they’re having trouble convincing arthur to go along w their plan or sign their Important Document, they go to merlin to try and convince him to convince arthur. merlin knows what they’re doing. merlin does not want to push arthur one way or another, he wants arthur to make his own choices and lead his people as he sees fit. merlin satisfies both of their needs by seeming apologetic that he can’t convince arthur of this but maybe they can and gives them “tips and tricks” on how to soften arthur up to agreeing to the plan.

its all bullshit.

so far he’s convinced a princess (looking for marriage) that arthur loves frogs and pranks so she filled his chambers with a bunch of toads (arthur is terrified of frogs), a lord (was “wronged” by another lord and wanted a portion of his land) that arthur is a fan of the arts, particularly music, and he ended up breaking into song and dance in front of everyone, and a nobleman (arguing against the repealed magic ban and hoping to bring back uther’s laws) that arthur LOVES potatoes and to just give him one throughout the day whenever he seems him so arthur will associate the nobleman with the joy of receiving his favorite food so he’ll be more inclined to the nobleman’s request (arthur despises potatoes).

[east-winddd]

For the love of Camelot✨💖💖

[deadgaywizard]

Screaming, crying, wrecking over the fact that Sir "not Arthur" Gwaine and Sir "wasn't Arthur who sent for me" Lancelot didn't get to have like a single scene together just gushing over how brave and awesome and loyal and pretty Merlin is

[pricilla-omnia-et-nihil]

"And this man was utterly gorgeous"

Once and Future Crime Lord- Pg. 9

[arathenerd]

✨Fanfic soulmate AU idea for Merthur✨

Hi, hey, hello.

So. Here’s the thing: this idea has been literally living in my mind rent free and it has developed into a sort of monster idea at this rate. I NEED this thing out so maybe someone actually competent at writing can pick it up and make me very very happy. So. So. So. I’m gonna divide this post in three parts to make it more understandable and all that, starting with the world building.

World building 🌎

I know what you are thinking. “Oh, soulmate au, must be very straightforward and boring” NO MY FRIEND.

Usually, in a soulmate au, a superior divine power (be it a god, the universe, or whatever) chooses the characters partners without their intervention. In this world, the characters are the ones who choose their soulmate.

“What?” Yeah. Hear me out.

In this world magic not only exists, but it’s also widely accepted and integrated in society. That includes practices such as marriage, which can be accomplished in three different ways.

Your usual magicless ceremony, though in this world is not as popular as,

Emotional-bonding ceremony. Pretty self explanatory, I think, but nevertheless, is about bonding emotionally with your partner, which means people can feel what the other is feeling. Is believed that this bond allows for a deeper connection in the relationship. And then there’s the most rare one,

The soul-bond ceremony. Like I said, extremely rare. This is mostly because of a series of different reasons, but is also considered the most important marriage bond you could ever have, if you do, and is widely romanticized. Soul-bonded pairs, because of this, are deeply respected, to the point that separating them is considered a grave violation.

Some of the reasons why soul-bondings are extremely rare:

a. It doesn’t work for everyone. What I mean with this, is that just being in love with someone isn’t enough. The soul bond requires not only a deep mutual understanding, but a love that transcends the body. In a matter of speaking, your soul has to be in love with the other person's soul.

b. It’s not enough if you do happen to love that person that way, but the same kind of love it’s not returned. It needs to be mutual.

c. It cannot be forced. You can’t make an arranged marriage with a soul-bonding ceremony. If the people involved aren’t willing and don’t feel like that, the magic simply won’t take. And finally,

d. Not that many go for it? I mean, the prospect of a soul bond is daunting as it is but on top of that, this ceremony is not as simple as that. As the name itself tells you, this is a soul-bonding ceremony. You are literally uniting your souls. That’s not only permanent, my friend, it will also transcend your mortal life and bleed into the next. Do you have any idea how desperately and profoundly in love you have to be to go for it? Yeah, exactly.

As you probably noticed, yes, this is where the chosen soulmate thing comes into play 😏.

Reincarnation exists in this world, but mostly, people can never know if they are reincarnations or new souls… unless, of course, the had a soul-bond from a past life.

People really don’t get flashbacks or memories if they do happen to be reincarnations, soulmate or not. There’s no such thing as a soulmark but the universe does have its ways to push people that are supposed to be close together.

You know when you are about to go on a trip, add all these thing to your baggage, and feel like you have everything you need, except… no. Not quite so. There’s something missing. You turn around your room, even search the bathroom, but for the life of you, you can’t figure it out. The feeling it’s maddening, anxiety inducing, really. What is missing?

And then, you can’t wait anymore and need to leave, so you do. You get to your hotel, and, while unpacking, it hits you. Suddenly you know exactly what you left behind and, yes, it turns out to be something you very much need.

That feeling, that nagging at the back of your brain, it’s how it feels to be reborn soul-bonded. Not that people can recognize it easily. Besides that, there’s the hunches. Sudden strong feelings that say “yeah, if I do this, if I go down this path, I’ll get closer to finding this thing I need, even if I don’t know what it is yet”. It’s slow working, but people always get there. Eventually. It only takes one look for your soul to sing in recognition.

Also, just because they are soulmates doesn’t mean they immediately fall in love. They are still strangers to each other. It’s more like, meeting someone and having the perfect comfort that if you work for it, give it your all, you will find a love like no other at the other side.

Engagements are also done with magic, usually. The practice is as sort of more formal promise, because once a person is magically engaged to another, any magic done in a ceremony (marriage) that isn’t done with the person you are engaged with simply won’t take.

Not only that, but if you happen to already be married (either with an emotional bond or a soul bond) and try to get engaged, the magic won’t take either. This means that if you are a reincarnated soul with a soulmate, you might find something new about yourself at your engagement ceremony lol.

Unless you happen to do a magicless ceremony I guess, but like I said, it’s really not the preferred thing.

Arthur in this AU 👑

After laying down the basics, who’s Arthur in this AU, within my head?

He’s the crown prince of a kingdom (it can be Britain if you wish, or a modern Camelot, idk, it really doesn’t matter) and he’s about to go through his engagement ceremony. *gasps*

Is an arranged marriage, of course. If you write this, you can choose whoever you like to be the woman at the other side, but either way it’s not gonna last.

Arthur, of course, isn’t happy about it but knows this is his duty and all. Never mind the constant feeling that he’s doing something he really shouldn’t be doing, or the feeling of guilt he doesn’t understand.

The ceremony is a public affair. Nobility, high society and royalty are all there to witness the event as expected, including journalists to document the event. Then the ceremony begins, Gaius, the Court Sorcerer to King Uther, doing the spell casting. Except, it doesn’t take.

The guests, who had been silently expectant, suddenly start quietly murmuring. What’s happening?

Uther frowns, going to Gaius, wanting an explanation. Calmly, Gaius tells him that the engagement won’t be possible, since the magic bounced against Arthur. The murmuring gets louder. Is the prince already engaged? Married? Oh, my!

Uther turns to his son, red in the face, screaming “what have you done?!” But Arthur is just as confused as everyone else. He says as much.

Gaius intervenes, telling the king there’s no point in being mad at Arthur, since the soul bond was clearly done in a past life.

Now people are really going nuts with this. Soul bond? It’s rare of course, but do you have any idea how many centuries it has been since a noble, let alone a royal, was soul-bonded? Let alone the crown prince?

Arthur can feel his heart beat out of his chest.

.

This is pretty much the only clear scene I have in my head, so, yeah. I also played with the idea of having a sort of soul-tracking spell that lets you see who’s at the other side of the soul bond as if it was tv and make everyone look at Merlin and realize it’s him but I wouldn’t know how to make it work. If you can, I might kiss you.

Merlin in this AU 🧔🏻🪄

So, you probably noticed Gaius being Court Sorcerer to king Uther there, didn’t you. It will be relevant here.

Court Sorcerers and monarchs in this world work as a team. Usually, when a new king is crowned, a new court sorcerer will be named, and this sorcerer will be the most powerful one of the same generation as the will-be-king. Sometimes, they'll meet before the kingship, sometimes after. There aren’t really any hard rules about that.

The new Court Sorcerer prospect is not obliged to say yes, but it is considered a high honor. Not that Merlin in particular wanted to.

Merlin is not only the most powerful of his generation, but also the most powerful to be born in centuries. This is not surprising, since it doesn’t matter if he’s reincarnated or not, Merlin is always going to be the most powerful one. But I digress.

He was found by Gaius, when he was 17, barely getting out of school. He explained the process: he would go trough training, and when the time came, he’ll take his place.

Merlin really wanted to say no. He almost did, but something stopped him. A hunch, a feeling that, maybe, just maybe, saying yes would be worth it. The feeling was strong enough for him to doubt his original stance, and then, to yield.

And so, the man would spend years under Gaius’s tutelage on all things magic and royal customs and etiquette, these days being closer to his thirties (somewhere between 25 and 29 years old). And everything would be perfectly fine if he hadn’t had the most curious dream.

You see, I said that people usually don’t remember their past lives but Merlin is a bit different. He’s pretty sure this was a past life.

In the memory, he’s running through the woods. He runs, runs, runs, feeling the heartbreak, the pain, the tears running down his face.

Modern Merlin doesn’t know it, but his past self would dare to soul bond with prince Arthur of Camelot, even knowing he wasn’t his to have. They did it because they wanted something only theirs, for once. Something no one could take away. But, as was usual when it came to duty, prince Arthur would be forced to marry eventually. And that day was that day.

So Merlin runs. Eventually, he reaches a hidden stone cellar, abandoned a while ago. He goes in it, burying the precious item within. He buries it because he knows no one must ever find it. The gods only know what would happen if the nobles or, gods forbid, the king figured out what they’ve done. So he buries his dreams and hopes, protects them with magic so they are not eroded and damaged by the earth, enchants the cellar so it doesn’t fall apart on top of it, no matter how much time passes.

A sudden fear paralyzes him. What if he tried to recover it and didn’t find it? No. That wasn’t an option. He was being a fool, he knew. He would never get the item back. But just in case, he needed to make sure that he could.

And so, the Merlin of the past didn’t know it, but, the spell might have worked too well. The point was to brand the location in his brain, but he’s so desperate, so scared, he doesn’t realize he branded it in his soul.

Modern Merlin wonders at this memory, wonders at the sudden necessity to go look for the item. But the thing isn’t there anymore, is it? It probably never was. It was just a dream.

And yet, before he knows it, he’s already looking, something he can’t name driving him forward. He feels ridiculous, set for disappointment, but he can’t stop. He walks as if he knows where he’s going.

His heart stops when he sees the beat down entrance of the cellar. It goes up to his throat when he goes without stopping to the specific place the item was hidden. He chokes on it when he knows not only where it is, but how deep it was buried.

And then, it’s in his hand.

The ring is simple, but beautiful. A gold band with elegant Celtic runes. Merlin looks at it, fascinated. He can feel the magic embedded in it. Soul-bonding magic.

He gasps. It is believed that touching a soul-bonding item that’s not yours is bad luck, but he has the all encompassing feeling that this ring is his.

Now, within the library he seats with Will and tries to pretend there isn’t a necklace around his neck with a ring hanging from it, hidden under his clothes.

Finishing thoughts 💭

If you write this in a slow burn, longish fic, with angst but also mostly softness and drama from an external threat I would love you forever. Bonus points if you use third pov, specially with the media. I love when that’s included with characters that are supposed to be public. I mean, people gushing about the fairy tale with prince Arthur on twitter? Newspapers documenting what’s happening? Yes please. External pov is the best.

Super extra points if you write it without miscommunication being the center of the angst and the fic. Forget kissing you, I would soul bond with you.

Anyway that’s it. It’s pretty long, but hopefully someone feels as excited as I do about this AU and picks it up. If you do, don’t forget to leave the link in the comments ❤️.

[onceandfuturemoron]

Everyone: Arthur is so hot

Me: okay but have you seen Merlin

[genderfunky-lesbian]

THEYRE. THE. SAME. PERSON.

[drlettuce]

Arthur: I must sacrifice my life for Camelot and go on to this quest alone

Arthur: I shall need no aid on my journey

Arthur: by my self

Arthur: Alone

Arthur: So Merlin have u packed you're things well ride by sunrise

Merlin: yeah way ahead of you

[borderlineomniverse]

Can someone recommend me good destiel/jebrex/jeric/anderperry/merthur fanfics I’ve felt the need to sob for days and I just haven’t been pushed over the edge yet so help appreciated

[junemo10]

there’s a certain serotonin that comes from finding really good fanfics off of fanart you find on Pinterest

[myoonmii]

Participated in this years @bbcmerlin-reversebang and had an absolute blast! I was very very lucky to have worked with lavender_spice who took my art prompt and bettered it 100x times with their gorgeous fic

I highly recommend checking it out if your a sucker for Merthur pining/idiots in love/angst/secret relationship realness like me, Thank you again and again to my writer I adore every single word of your amazing 24k fic 🫶

[hopelessromantic5]

Merthur Drabble

Essentially, Gwen and Arthur have told everyone they're in love when really they both have feelings for people they assume they could never have.

Merlin had never run so fast in his life.

He was dodging worried looks from other servants in the halls, ducking under strings of garland being hung in the corridors and accidentally knocking trays to the ground but not having the time to apologize.

He ran so fast his lungs were having trouble catching up.

He’s running because something is wrong.

He was in the Great Hall with George, finishing preparations for the ‘big feast’ in honor of the ‘big news’.

He’d just finalized the food when he felt it.

Something deep in his chest caved inward. Forming a dark hole.

And he heard it. His own name being shouted by that voice, almost exactly the same as he’d heard it a million other times, but this one was panicked, scared.

It came from nowhere near him, it may not even have been a real noise. But it echoed in the manservant’s mind.

It was his King.

Something was wrong.

He ran before he could even think twice, dropping the lists, trusting George to gather them.

Oh gods, what is it? Is he dead? Please don’t let him be dead.

He’d never felt anything so hollow before. He knew it was Arthur, but he didn’t know what could’ve caused this damage in his own castle with Merlin’s own wards (unknowingly) protecting every square inch of the keep.

Merlin arrived at the right corridor gasping for air, but not stopping.

The door to the king’s chambers remained open, the manservant halted before he approached as he heard voices.

Arthur and Gwen.

“Shouldn’t they be more…I don’t know…bright. Happy.” That was Arthur.

“Arthur, every wedding that’s been held here for the last century was bathed in red and white. It’s tradition.” She scoffed a little but even Merlin could hear the sweet smile she accompanied with it.

“Of course.” Arthur trailed off, distantly. The deep dark feeling tugged at Merlin’s chest again, so hard that he had to close the few feet between he and the King’s chambers. If only to ensure that Arthur was, in fact, alright.

Merlin stood in the doorway, finally seeing Gwen at the desk, sorting through papers (the ones Merlin had just organized the way Arthur wanted them last week) and Arthur standing by the cupboard, leaning against it, more like.

The King was already staring at the open door when Merlin walked in front of it.

Their eyes met, and all at once the feeling in Merlin's chest dulled to a small ache. Closing up, for now, but still throbbing like a bruise.

Arthur sent him a small smile before blanking his face and officially greeting him.

“Merlin.” Causing Gwen to look up too.

“Oh, hi Merlin! How is everything coming along?”

The manservant finally forced himself to move into the room but only a few feet.

“The preparations are nearly finished.” He gave her a small bow of his head and a forced quirk of his lips. Still feeling odd and uneasy.

Arthur seemed to sense it, or maybe Merlin has that look on his face because Arthur asks with the most sincerity Merlin thinks he’s ever heard from him,

“Is there something you need?”

No venom, no insults lurking just behind. He was genuinely asking if Merlin needed anything.

“No, sire.” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed before continuing. “It’s just…you didn’t call for me, did you? Just a few moments ago?”

Arthur mirrored his expression of pinched brows.

“No, I didn’t.” He shook his own gorgeous blonde head, chewing his lip in thought, but still watching Merlin with worry. “Why?”

“Nothing, honestly. Just thought I heard…” Merlin shook his head again to clear his mind of the thoughts, nearly giving himself a headache, and went to leave. “It was nothing, sire. Must��ve been my imagination.”

“It does have a tendency to get carried away.” Arthurs idea of a joke.

“Very funny, your majesty.” He answers dryly reaching for the doorknob. “Honestly, can’t believe it took you this long to find someone to marry you with that sense of humor.”

Gwen thought this comical and laughed, however neither Arthur nor Merlin laughed at his joke.

Both were out of sorts; Merlin didn't know Arthur's reasons in the slightest. With his wedding in a fortnight, the King should be ecstatic. Merlin should be ecstatic for him. And yet, here they both were. Not laughing.

When Merlin turned back, once more, to find Arthur’s eyes on him, with that indiscernible look, he forced himself to go. So that his imagination would taunt him no longer.

[sundaynightlive]

Paramour (Merthur)

In which Merlin's having issues with an entitled noble and Arthur comes up with a... creative way of fixing it.

(TW: Unconsensual sexual advances, mentions of murder and violence, and some sexual content, although explicit body parts are not mentioned and it's kind of like a TV cut-away, the scenes are not prolonged.)

Protective!Arthur, 5.4k words, Uther being dumb, per usual, and Arthur knows Merlin is a magic user! Please enjoy!

Merlin is seething and Arthur can see it. He may play dumb when it comes to many of Merlin’s emotions, refusing to be caught caring unless in the most dire of circumstances, but this is a new kind of anger entirely. Merlin’s prone to annoyance (both attracting it and being it), but this is far from something like that—this is genuine rage. Arthur’s not sure he’s ever seen him like this, flushed and eerily quiet, his fingers undoing Arthur’s cloak rather harshly, which he would comment about if he were not so concerned.

In Merlin’s defense, he seems to be making an attempt at feigning calm, but it does not fool Arthur in the slightest. He knows everything about Merlin, from his favorite meal to the boundless power that rests in his hands—Merlin’s a weapon, truly. A weapon who’s fingertips brush idly over his skin as he lifts the tunic over Arthur’s head, throwing that over his arm with the festival attire.

“What is it?” Merlin had turned, presumably to toss the clothes in the wash-bin that Merlin would undoubtedly take back to his chambers tonight, despite Arthur’s insistence that he needn’t complete tasks like that this late. The manservant stops, though, cold.

“Sire?”

Usually dripping in sarcasm, Arthur swallows hard at the unfamiliar, honest use of his title. 

“You are clearly furious. Have I done something?” 

Merlin is quiet for a moment, which leaves Arthur in embarrassingly tense anticipation. His last wish—and oh, if Merlin ever found out about this, he’d simply die—is to ever anger, disappoint, or even go so far as to irk his warlock companion. He may not act it, but having Merlin upset with him is truly disturbing. Sure, they bicker, and they pick meaningless fights, but that’s more just them than an actual distaste for each other’s company. 

It’s partially what makes each other’s company so tasteful, at least, as far as Arthur is concerned.

“No,” comes the reply, which is a relief, but also further troubling—if Arthur had not bothered Merlin, then what had? The night had been wonderful, golden fire-light licking through the hall as lords and ladies and rich-folk from kingdoms both near and far socialized, drank, and celebrated the sweet ending of a particularly harsh winter. Every time Arthur had caught Merlin in his gaze, he had been mingling with the knights, brilliant smile, unearthly gorgeous, gold glinting in his eyes, the laces of his tunic undone and revealing strong, pale chest, dark hair just a tad too long, dripping over his brow—

Christ—focus, Arthur. 

“Then what?” Arthur pries when no explanation comes. Merlin’s head tips back, and part of Arthur is disappointed, the other part grateful he does not see the delicious expanse of skin that motion exposes. Merlin heaves a deep sigh, and turns.

“Lord Edmond,” he says, fingers curling into expensive fabrics, cheeks flushed, “Refuses to leave me alone.” 

Edmond—some noble from the north Arthur was not particularly fond of, but had never caused much of an issue as far as Arthur had been aware. Kind of an inconsequential, irrelevant man. Handsome, sure, but old now—maybe fourty? Fifty? Ten years older than Arthur at least, and complacent. Not a hunter, not a soldier—

“I don’t remember him being too insufferably-friendly,” Arthur muses.

“This,” Merlin snaps, “Is beyond friendly.”

Oh. Oh no.

Fury sears through him like a fire-poker to the ribs, and he sets his jaw, unable to speak for a full, agonizing moment as he struggles not to fly out of his chambers to slaughter the man himself. He clears his throat, tearing his gaze from Merlin’s.

“Were these… welcome advances?” His heart leaps into his throat—

“Absolutely not,” Merlin says, “And if he continues, I’ll have to smite him where he stands, your father’s ridiculous laws be damned.” 

Arthur’s eyes widen. He looks back at Merlin.

“Can you smite people?!”

“No, but I could try.” 

Arthur wants nothing more than to reach out and soothe Merlin’s anger, and that ache is embarrassing, but not near as embarrassing as the idea tickling the back of his skull, quietly petitioning to be shared. Merlin narrows his eyes in Arthur’s direction—

“What?”

“I have… quite the solution.” 

Merlin scoffs, and turns back around to finally toss Arthur’s clothes. Arthur stretches his limbs a little bit, moving to sit down on the end of his bed and feeling his exhaustion wash over him. A few nights of this festival shit has him poorly-rested and sore in places he’s not used to being sore—he misses sparring, training, riding. If it were not already the early hours of the morning, he’d consider getting up at a decent hour to accomplish one of these.

He’ll be lucky to be up any time before noon.

“You couldn’t,” Merlin says, folding the clothes instead of tossing them—quite responsible of him, though Arthur’s sure the sheer cost of the clothing has Merlin a little more careful.

Or his rage is making him forget he’s usually negligent, as backwards as that seems.

“Gwaine and Percival have already warned him, and he does not seem to care one way or another,” Merlin rants, throwing the folded tunic down into the wash bin (there’s the Merlin he knows well) and whipping around, “And for the last three nights, it’s one uncomfortable, disgusting, completely inappropriate—”

“This has been going on for three nights?!” Arthur asks, incredulous and a little hurt. If Merlin was being made uncomfortable by a noble, Arthur should have been the first one to hear of it, and Merlin should know that by now. Additionally, Arthur knows Merlin quite enjoys this festival each year, and he’s decently agitated at the notion that some horny prick is ruining his manservant’s time.

The agitation is certainly not because Arthur would give any amount of money or body parts or perhaps his entire station if it meant he could be closer to Merlin than he already is—much closer. Infinitely closer.

God, how has this happened to him?

“He is absolutely unavoidable. He gets one chalice of wine in him and he’s touching me and saying insufferable things and—”

“He’s laid hands on you?”

Merlin quiets abruptly, his passionate distaste dying in his throat and on his face, and Arthur is certainly to blame. He couldn’t help himself—his tone had gone from disbelief and general annoyance to something much colder, much more serious. Unwelcome flirtation is one thing, but touching Merlin when Arthur himself hasn’t even been afforded the chance is absolutely unacceptable, and especially when the contact is uninvited and uncomfortable for the receiving party.

And that receiving party is Merlin.

Arthur feels murder sitting heavy on his chest.

“Arthur—”

“Here’s what’s going to happen, now,” Arthur interrupts, tone like ice. Merlin looks like he wants to argue, probably to reassure Arthur he’s fine and he doesn’t need to intervene, but he doesn’t try. He’s quite adept at figuring out now when his snide remarks are appropriate and when they are incredibly not. “Tomorrow night, when he begins to bother you, you’ll do that brain talking thing—”

“Gaius calls it Sending.”

“Right, Sending, and alert me. Then I will take care of the situation how I see fit.”

“But Gwaine and Percival already—”

“I am the crown prince of Camelot and if he’d like to maintain his title, he will listen to me. Should he disobey, I will fucking gut him.” Right, so, that second part wasn’t supposed to come out, but the already defeated look on Merlin’s face had pulled it forcibly from his tongue. Merlin does not look like he believes him in any way, shape, or form, but Arthur hardly cares. He’s too angry, murder on his mind, and Merlin will know this tomorrow night.

“It’s really—I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Merlin says with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest, shifting from foot to foot like he’s suddenly very uncomfortable. Arthur doesn’t like that. Did he do that? “It’s not a big deal—”

“Merlin,” Arthur says firmly, “I should be the first to know when someone abuses their title to try and get away with matters such as this. Especially when it’s happening to you.”

Arthur thinks he must imagine the pink flooding Merlin’s cheeks, or maybe his anger is coming back. Merlin shifts awkwardly some more, and looks down at his shoes, shuffling them a little against the floor.

“Sire…”

“Yes?”

“I would… prefer you enjoy your holiday. Worrying for me is—”

“Merlin, go to bed,” Arthur says, “Because you are sounding more and more like I should beat you over the head with a club.” 

The grin on Merlin’s face seems to brighten the room, and the eyeroll is like a hundred worms wriggling around in Arthur’s stomach. Merlin turns and picks up the wash-bin with what sounds to be a scoff, but Arthur is almost certain is some sort of breathy giggle—

“Do not do that tonight. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

“That is quite literally the entire point of your job!”

“Huh? What was that? I’m sorry, I don’t speak insufferable prat.”

“Merlin—!”

“Goodnight, Arthur!”

—

Arthur takes it lightly on the wine, and stays what he believes to be a safe distance away from Merlin at all times. He has a sort-of picture of Lord Edmond in his mind, but as he surveys the crowd, no-one seems to fit the image just right. It seems Arthur remembers him but not altogether too clearly, and the anticipation is starting to get to him.

Nobles keep trying to strike up conversations with him, but he can hardly pay attention. Morgana approaches him to see if he’s alright, but he’s lost sight of Merlin and he can’t answer her because he’s too busy scanning the room, so she gives up. Then, Gwen approaches to tell him of some business with one guest or another, but half way through, Merlin’s voice whispers through his mind, sending a shudder down his spine he can’t ignore.

It’s happening. I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from killing him. I’m not fond of washing blood off your clothes. 

Arthur stands.

“---and then she—Arthur?”

“Excuse me a moment,” he says to her, and perhaps someone else near him, but he’s not entirely sure. The lady to his left looks particularly disappointed, but swiftly turns to Gwen to try and trick her into divulging the latest gossip from the kitchens. 

Gwen seems less than enthused.

Lord Edmund is not particularly tall, but not particularly short. Merlin stands a few inches over him but he and Arthur are both considerably tall. He looks to be older, as Arthur had thought, probably early-fifties at the youngest, and despite how it hurts Arthur’s very soul to admit it, not terribly hard on the eyes. However, what is extremely off-putting (and particularly rage-inducing) is the way he has Merlin trapped between a table and a group of snickering lackeys, who occasionally glance over at the situation, amused.

A posse. This insolent Lord brought an entourage and is using it to try and scare Merlin into sleeping with him.

Arthur sees red.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Merlin starts, and Edmond jumps, stumbling backwards and away from Merlin just a bit, looking surprised, but not like he thinks he’s done anything wrong. Arthur is brimming, perhaps spilling, with rage, Edmond fixed in his stare like an enemy’s chest which his blade is sure to rupture. If Arthur had his sword, it would be lying against Edmond’s throat.

“Your highness—”

Arthur remembers himself. He had had a plan, hadn’t he? 

If Arthur were to tell this man off, it might work to dissuade him, sure, but it would teach him nothing. The festival was to last nearly the entire month, and a simple reprimand from a man so much younger than him—prince or not—would not hold to that length in time, Arthur was sure of it. Edmond would figure out a way to get around Arthur’s consequences or out of his sight, and then Merlin would be back at square one, and based on how Arthur had had to be the one to ask, he’s sure Merlin would not bring it up a second time.

Therefore, it would take more than harsh words to keep Edmond in line.

He turns, grabs Merlin by the side of his tunic, and yanks him forward into his embrace. He can only imagine the look of shock, but if this is to work, he cannot make his own nervousness known. He tilts his head and blows breath against Merlin’s ear as he speaks—

“It is my last intention to embarrass you, but there are few ways to make a man like this listen, and I am not interested in anyone’s hands on you but mine. I’ll meet you in my chambers when I have finished here.”

Once again, Arthur has said something he hadn’t meant to say, but now is not exactly the time to try and cover up for himself. He said what he said, and Merlin is ducking into the crowd, and there is a much more important matter at hand. He turns to Edmond.

“You would dare insult the crown prince in such a way?” 

This gets the attention of the lackeys, and many party-goers nearby. Arthur steels himself for the show he is about to perform, the backlash he will undoubtedly receive from his father, and Morgana’s incessant teasing until the end of time. This, and the rumors that will spread once these nobles are made aware—

“I’m sure I know what you mean,” Edmond answers, genuinely sounding clueless, but also completely calm, unphased by Arthur’s anger. Does this sort of stupidity come with age? Arthur must start reading more, if this is the case.

“You would shamelessly attempt to bed my paramour?” 

Arthur watches all the color drain from Edmond’s face, and feels a swelling of pride in his chest at the sight. He opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it, and repeats the motion, clearly at a loss. The lackeys scatter comically, and those in attendance of the show begin to mutter. He’s grateful he’s only captivated a small portion of the great hall, and not the entire thing, and his father is many, many crowds away.

“I—he—”

“I would throw my glove at your feet if I had a glove to throw,” Arthur spits, “And should you bother him again, or god forbid, lay a filthy hand on him, I will gut you without honor.” And so with that, Arthur turns on his heel and storms away, followed by murmurs and whispers, feeling somewhat relieved and incredibly satisfied, despite now having to explain himself to Merlin.

Right. Merlin.

—

“What did you do?” Merlin asks, all to accusing. 

“Promise not to smite me.”

“No.”

“I told them—“ 

“Ah,” Merlin interrupts, raising a hand. He stands up and off Arthur’s bed, and moves closer, much to Arthur’s dismay. “Actually, I don’t care.” 

Arthur blinks.

“But—“

“Did you mean it?” 

Arthur’s brain short circuits as he finds himself gazing into storms of gray, Merlin coming much closer than he’d expected. He mimicked Edmond, opening his mouth and then closing it again, swallowing hard. Merlin is watching him expectantly and Arthur is using all the strength he has not to glance down at Merlin’s lips and give himself away completely.

“Did you mean it?” Merlin asks again.

Did he—oh.

I am not interested in anyone’s hands on you but mine.

In all the chaos, he had half-forgotten. He had meant to turn and tell Merlin to go, to apologize for what he had decided to say next, but he had lost himself in the moment of being so close. He had invested himself too much in the “performance,” even in those few, short moments, and revealed himself. 

And now he would face Merlin’s reaction, whatever it may be.

“Yes,” he says, though it doesn’t come out as confident as he would have liked. Merlin searches his eyes for the lie—he dreads what could happen when the warlock finds none.

Merlin’s eyes flick downwards. Arthur’s stomach drops as he realizes Merlin’s eyeing his lips, the very same impulse he’d been begging himself not to give in to, and Merlin’s done it so close to him, so outright—

“You were jealous,” Merlin continues, and at this, Arthur scoffs. No, he was not jealous in the slightest of Lord Edmond because Edmond was a sad, elderly husk of a man who thought he could take what he wanted whenever he wanted, and Arthur is a young, handsome crown-prince who has waited over a year for any indication Merlin might feel the same as him. 

He would not dare use his position of power to press Merlin to him, not when Arthur loved him, and not when Merlin had spent his time here unknowingly teaching Arthur what that really meant. His parents had not done it, fleeting teenage flings had not done it—Merlin had. Undoubtedly.

“I would not be jealous of a man you didn’t actually want,” Arthur says, which he realizes then is insinuating he would be jealous of a man Merlin did want, so he tries to back track, “And regardless—!” He exclaims quickly, and Merlin’s responding smile digs up those worms.

“You’re obviously allowed to do whatever you want with whoever you want,” Arthur finishes, swallowing hard.

“Obviously,” Merlin repeats, lifting his hands to start undoing the clasps on Arthur’s robes. 

If Arthur wanted—no, not if wanted, because he does want, he’s just not sure what Merlin wants—he could tilt his head just so, lean in an inch, maybe two, and kiss him. They’re that close, and they’ve been this close before, sure, but Merlin’s acting different and his fingers work the clasps much slower and his face is absolutely unreadable to the point where Arthur is starting to panic. He prides himself on knowing Merlin very well, but right now—

“Even if it’s you?”

Merlin might as well have punched him in the throat. All the breath flees from his lungs as though it were never there in the first place, and his hands—he loses all command over them as he has his breath—reach up and grab Merlin by the waist of his tunic, the very same way he had done before, except this time when he pulls them together there is not crowd to convince or entertain.

He’s not sure how he manages to speak when he’s forgotten how to breathe, but—

“Especially if it’s me.”

When they kiss, finally, after the decade that seems to pass between their admissions and their lips meeting, Arthur loses his decorum entirely. Entirely. It’s like any restraint he’d had stored away left with his breath, and he is half-guiding, half-pushing Merlin, kissing him senseless until Merlin’s back hits Arthur’s bed and he’s wedged between Merlin’s thighs and it’s like this is where he’s meant to be, staring down at wet lips and heaving chest and—

“I heard what you said. About us,” Merlin manages between breaths, “I heard what you called me.”

Paramour. 

“I—“

“If you would have me, sire.”

If you would have me, sire.

The double meaning all but knocks him out.

“I will have you,” Arthur, “Over and over and over again until no one can distinguish one of us from the other.” You’re a piece of me, a second more brilliant half. I need you, I have needed you since I met you in the market that day, even when I treated you so harshly, and have been so—

Merlin tips his head back and laughs and Arthur’s maudlin inner-monologue fades away, mind wholly devoted to the sound and the man it’s coming from beneath him.

“Arthur—“ his name, god, his name, “—that is already impossible to do.”

—

Merlin turns out to be marvelous in bed, and not at all like Arthur had suspected he’d be (timid, hesitant). Instead, he’s incredibly, almost obnoxiously vocal, and not abashed in the slightest.

To be fair, though, Merlin never knew when to shut his goddamn mouth any other time, so perhaps Arthur had been foolish to think this sort of affair would be any different. 

When he wakes up to the knock on his door, it doesn’t occur to him to try and hide Merlin, or even wake him. He’d announced to a quarter of the party last night that they were sleeping together, and word-of-mouth in a castle filled with visiting nobles and their attendants is far worse than wild-fire. 

“Yes?” he calls, sitting up despite his nakedness, absently stroking Merlin’s dark hair. The messenger—a woman Arthur recognizes to usually be either in the kitchens or the wash rooms—shyly steps in, flushing deeply when she notices that Arthur is not alone.

“You’ve been summoned. By your father.”

Now this Arthur and not been expecting. To be reprimanded at brunch for making a scene, sure, but to be summoned is an entirely different issue. 

“Thank you,” Arthur says, tipping  his head, “You may go.”

She hurries out, and Arthur looks down, considering for a moment waking Merlin to dress him, and then upon seeing how peacefully his paramour—paramour, how lovely—is sleeping, opts against it. 

He can dress himself, surely.

—

“Brilliant,” Uther muses as Arthur enters, “We were starting to worry you had gotten lost.”

No, Arthur just couldn’t figure out which was the front and which was the back of his trousers for upwards of ten minutes.

“We” must refer to he and Edmond, Uther who is seated stiffly upon his throne, as usual, and Edmond who is standing quite relaxed beneath his gaze, which is Arthur’s first indication something here is clearly off.

“What do you want?” Arthur snaps. Uther does not falter, but Edmond looks over, clearly baffled by Arthur’s tone, and perhaps even the fact that Uther does not ask him to check it.

“Would you please explain to me,” Uther begins, “How you thought it appropriate not only to publicly humiliate a noble, threaten him, but also to treat your manservant as though he were property, and not a man of his own decisions.”

He cannot be serious. Arthur turns to Edmond, seething.

“You are far duller than you look.”

“Arthur!” Uther exclaims, sharp. Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, glowering at his father, terribly angry for what feels like the hundredth time in the past two days.

“I only acted in the interest of Merlin’s honor,” Arthur snaps, “He came to me accusing this feeble, brainless—”

“Are the insults truly necessary, your majesty?” Edmond asks his father, but Arthur continues, unperturbed.

“—wilddeoren of making unwanted advances.” 

Uther frowns, and Edmond shakes his head, a completely unwarranted smile gracing his features. Arthur is certain this man is in need of several kicks to the groin and then some. Uther sighs.

“I told you, your majesty, he would come bearing all sorts of lies.”

“Lies!?” Arthur exclaims incredulously.

“You very publicly referred to Merlin as your paramour instead of your manservant,” Uther says, “In order to embarrass Lord Edmond into obeying your will.” Arthur’s jaw drops. Edmond does nothing to hide the triumph he is feeling, and all of this is making Arthur’s blood boil hotter and hotter. 

That’s… technically true, but as far as last night is concerned—

“Merlin is my paramour,” Arthur argues, causing a raise of his father’s brow, and the shake of Edmond’s head, “And if you do not believe me, summon Merlin, then. Although, that seems a spectacular waste of our time, because he should have been here to explain his side of the story in the first place, and if I would have known this insolent pig—”

“Arthur,” Uther chides.

“—was going to spin such an elaborate fairy-tale, I would have roused him and brought him myself, as he happened to be, conveniently, very close by, namely, right god-damned next to me.”

Uther heaves a sigh. Edmond doesn’t look convinced.

“Arthur—”

“Father,” Arthur says, very seriously, sensing the king’s exasperation and unwillingness to argue or reprimand a noble of his own age, and such a nonchalant demeanor, begging no guilt. What his father fails to see is that this is not because Edmond is not guilty, but because he’s certain there will be no consequences for his actions—and really, unless Arthur kills him in his sleep, or challenges him to a duel, there won’t be. Nothing but a childish slap on the wrist.

“Arthur,” Uther says again, firmly, “I would like you, before dinner tonight, to apologize to Lord Edmond—”

“Absolutely not!” Arthur cries.

“You will,” Uther says, firmness growing into a slight aggression Uther believes he will listen to, “Or you will not attend.”

“Then consider this the last time you see me today, your majesty,” Arthur snaps, turning to leave, “And if you are so opposed to taking the word of your own son over some half-wit jester, ask the servant who summoned me how she found me this morning, and who she found me with.”

He turns, just before the door, glaring back at both men—his father who looks vaguely disappointed, and Edmond who’s now red in the face, seemingly having realized what an impartial third-party’s account may do to his story.

“Or better yet,” Arthur muses, “Ask the knights who attempted to deter Lord Testicle—“

“Arthur!”

“—before I was forced to step in. And please,” Arthur says, finally wrapping this up into a neat little bow, “Do not send for me again. I have a long day and night planned bending my manservant over every flat surface in my chambers.”

“Christ, Arthur—“

“Good. Fucking. Day.”

And if the doors were small enough to be slammed, Arthur would have done exactly that.

—

“What is your name?”

“Oh—er, Katherine, your majesty. I work in the—“

“I know. I just have a question regarding the manner in which you found my son this morning.”

“Ah! Oh—umm… well… I’m not entirely comfortable… saying, my king.”

Uther sighs deeply, and waves his hand to dismiss her.

“That will be all.”

—

“You shouldn’t fight with your father on my behalf,” Merlin soothes, and Arthur would attest to enjoying baths much more when Merlin’s in the water with him. “It’s not worth the drama. And you should be enjoying the—“

“As you should have been, and as we should be, if it weren’t for Lord shit-pants—“

“Your insults are getting less and less clever,” Merlin teases, moving forward through the water to press his lips to Arthur’s throat, as if that’s supposed to make it better. Is this them now? Bickering like usual and then kissing it away? 

He could get used to that, yeah.

Arthur pinches Merlin’s thigh beneath the water in retaliation, so Merlin pokes him hard in the ribs.

“Ow!” Arthur exclaims, seizing Merlin’s wrist and yanking him forward, sending the boy effectively into his embrace, although Arthur is framing it as a restraint, tugging Merlin’s wrists behind his back and pressing his own teasing kiss to the man’s shoulder.

“Gotcha.” 

Merlin laughs.

“What I lack in glorious, sexy, beefy—“ he’s still teasing Arthur, that bastard, “—muscle, I make up for in wit.”

“And how is wit going to—?”

Arthur learns when Merlin uses the height at which his wrists are currently held much to his advantage, and grunts.

“Yes, I suppose that’ll do it.”

—

The next morning they are both summoned, Merlin teaches Arthur about his pants, and they make their way to Uther, chatting aimlessly, bickering uselessly. 

Arthur feels incredible. Wonderful, even. To be with Merlin and to not ache to be nearer, because he has been near and can be near, is like a breath of fresh air. His best friend is now his lover, and he could not have asked fate for anything more.

“Father,” Arthur greets.

“Your majesty,” Merlin says, but does not bow, because Merlin thinks bowing is ridiculous and now that he thinks about it, Arthur kind of agrees.

“I have,” Uther says, sounding wildly uncomfortable, which is the consequence of his own inability to take anything Arthur says seriously, “Confirmed with Katherine, the chambermaid, that you two are, in fact…” 

Arthur grins.

“Copulating?” He suggests.

“Fucking?” Merlin adds plainly.

“Fraternizing?”

“Fucking,” Merlin repeats.

“Lovers,” Arthur suggests, taking Merlin’s hand. They haven’t talked about that part of it yet, although he’s certain it had been implied. Merlin’s grasp tightens around his own, and their shoulders bump together softly.

“Yeah, probably that one,” he agrees. 

Uther is so red in the face he’d make a stunning rendition of Camelot’s flag had he painted a giant gold dragon over his features.

“Right, well,” Uther says, clearing his throat, “I assume you are both aware though… fraternization is certainly allowed, I cannot in good faith—“

“Paramour, father,” Arthur interrupts, because he doesn’t need to hear another word of “produce an heir” or “take a wife.” He’s highly aware of his duty, and if he weren’t, he would’ve dragged Merlin down to Gaius hours ago and demanded to be wed (or whatever version of wed can be done without the church). This way, the next time Lord Edmond or any other ridiculous noble tried to lay hands on his manservant, Arthur would have probably cause to shove his spear through their throat. “I know what can be done and what cannot.”

Uther nods, as if he had suspected this.

“Good. Then all we have to the discuss is the matter of Merlin’s new title—“

“Having sex with your son gives me a title?!” Merlin interrupts incredulously, and Uther goes red again, much to Arthur’s delight. He tips his head back and laughs because oh, how he loves this man.

Uther clears his throat, “Paramour is the title, and while not all of the Five Kingdoms make space for such a thing, I and the court of Camelot do entertain the notion that political marriages should not fall in the way of an actual connection. Therefore, you will be alleviated of your position as Arthur’s manservant—“

“I’d actually like to keep that, if I may,” Merlin interrupts again, and really, where does Merlin get off having the gall to keep cutting off the king. 

Probably somewhere in all those titles Uther doesn’t know Merlin already has—The Last Dragonlord, The Most Powerful Sorcerer to Ever Walk the Earth, Emrys, etc. Really, now that Arthur thinks about it, Merlin could cast his father out of the throne with the flick of his wrist, and assume Camelot under his rule, destroying those who dare defy him with little more than a thought and a spoken word.

But he doesn’t. Because of Arthur.

It is beginning to feel incredibly stupid that Arthur couldn’t tell if Merlin loved him back. Perhaps he really will have to start reading more.

“You would continue to work?” Uther asks, eyebrows raised.

“I would feel useless if I were not serving Camelot, and my prince,” Merlin says, “It’s kind of what I’m meant to do, regardless of what “title” I hold here.”

Uther nods as if he understands, which he couldn’t possibly, because where he technically assumes a mantle of service to Camelot, he was birthed to it. Merlin chooses his place here.

Merlin chooses Arthur.

He swears, every minute he spends with the man just sinks him further and further, lost to the warlock entirely, even though Arthur had been certain he was at the bottom before any of this even occurred.

“I will be honest,” Uther muses, “I am starting to see why my son likes you.”

Merlin, to Arthur’s surprise, bows his head to hide his pink cheeks, playing it off like a polite and silent “thank you.” Arthur removes his hand from Merlin’s and slips an arm around his waist. Leave it to Merlin to stand firm in the line of a King’s judgment, and buckle under half-baked praise.

Duly noted.

“Is that all?”

“Actually,” Uther says, “I’m sure you’ll pleased to hear I’ve tossed Edmond in a cell until tomorrow morning, because you and I both know—“

“There are few ways to make a man like that listen,” they chorus, and Arthur smiles, incredibly pleased at the idea of Edmond all wrapped up in silk and fine fabrics, cold and damp in a dirty old cell.  “Thank you, father.”

Uther waves his hand dismissively, but cannot help a slight smile at his son’s glowing approval.

“Away with you both. I will see you tonight.”

And Uther does, sitting with their chairs and knees touching, speaking in soft voices and drinking far too much wine, pink cheeks and bright smiles and a love like he remembers. Uther does not wholly understand his son’s affinity for his manservant, but he can understand being young, reckless, and excited to share breath with someone excited to share breath with you.

Yes, Uther, like Arthur, is quite pleased with this paramour. Quite pleased.

[Bonus Content]

Same Universe, Sillier Plot!

[falling-glowstar]

Oh no (Merthur oneshot)

Merlin glared at Gwen, it was their weekly tea meeting that they had to gossip and discuss the matters of Camelot.

And she had just insinuated that he, Merlin, was in-love with Arthur.

Prince Arthur, a prick, clotpole brainless donkey was the one he cared for.

Even though on rare moments he behaved like a smart donkey, and yes was sometimes brave and funny.

He did also care for Camelot was going to make a fine king, and perhaps in some angles he could appear slightly attractive if you cared for the type with gorgeous blond hair and adorable dimples, he also has freckles that can only be seen-

Oh.

Oh no, “I’m in love with Arthur aren’t I?” Merlin said his face in his hands.

Gwen patted Merlin on the back.

[queen-of-obsessing]

Merthur fic recs!

Since I’ve been seeing a lot of people asking for recommendations, here’s my bookmarks, the crème de la crème if you will. They are also ranked (if that’s even possible. it’s probably not but i’ll try anyway). 

1. Folklore by ironfamjam

Warnings: Angst 

Chapters: 1/1 (completed) 

Words: 6,708

Summary: Sometimes, a single kiss can change the trajectory of a kingdom entire. Or, a magic reveal within the tunnels as Morgana takes over Camelot above and Arthur rebuilds his entire heart and world below.

Thoughts: an alternate take on the Season 4 finale that changed me as a person. I absolutely love this fic, it reads like a modern epic. The romance is gorgeous, I could not recommend it more. 

2. Queercoding by astudyintheburningofhearts

Warnings: implied sexual content 

Chapters: 1/1 (completed) 

Words: 2,933

Summary: For as long as Arthur and Merlin had been Arthur and Merlin, nobody had really been able to understand the two of them. Not their relationship, not their loyalty, and especially not the way they conversed with one another. One could always just slap on the label of unconventional best friends and leave it at that, it would most certainly explain their instinctive need to die for one another, sure. But there was not one person that traversed the paths of Camelot that could explain the inherent dynamics of their conversations.

Thoughts: Short, but oh so sweet. Beautifully written, it made me die of cuteness and roll on the floor. The intimacy of having a language only you and your lover understand <3 (Also inspired by one of my own prompts, which I still can’t believe!!) 

3. tennessee whiskey by kosmikowboj

Warnings: some gun violence and alcohol use 

Chapters: 3/3 (completed) 

Words: 13,393

Summary: Merlin has been all over the West as a bounty hunter, and never has he stuck around in one place for longer than it takes to finish a job. Goldbluff wasn’t supposed to be any different, but for some reason he can’t parse—one that has absolutely nothing to do with the sheriff’s irritating son, thank you very much—Merlin keeps finding excuses to stay. In his defense, a man hired to hunt down himself is bound to go a little mad.

Thoughts: I hit the CEILING when i saw this one. If you’re a fan of Westerns, this is definitely the fic for you. It is cute, it fluffy, it is enemies to lovers excellence. There’s so much lovely tension. Highly recommend. 

4. the wish that broke the world by whatswiththemustache

Warnings: Angst, Eventual Hurt/Eventual Comfort, Arthur goes through it 

Chapters: 9/30 (still updating) 

Words: 53,699 -  so far 

Summary: In which Arthur discovers Merlin's magic and exiles him in an unthinking rage - but not before making a wish that he'll come to regret. The next day, with no memory of what happened, Arthur wakes up to a Camelot that is not his own. Everything is different, everyone seems terrified of him, and worst of all... Merlin has vanished without a trace, as if he never existed in the first place.

Thoughts: while I hate watching Arthur suffer, the prose is beautiful and the story is very very intriguing. Also writes Arthur’s POV so accurately. 

5. Sorcerer's Bane by BeautifulFiction

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Merlin 

Chapters: 66/66 (completed) 

Words: 264,623

Summary: Arthur gave Merlin his cloak thinking only of the warmth it would offer in a snowstorm. He never thought his manservant may be mistaken for him and snatched by bandits. Nor did he expect his dashing rescue of Merlin to turn his world so utterly on his head.

Because the bandits hadn't kidnapped a prince. They'd snatched a sorcerer, and now captivity is the least of anyone's problems.

A golden age awaits, but can they claim it together, or are they doomed to fail?

Thoughts: another fic that I just started but am already intrigued! Amazingly written, and highly recommend by fic connoisseurs over the years!   

6. Stolen Kisses, Borrowed Time by sexy_sorcerer_sapphic

Warnings: Sexual References but nothing explicit

Chapters: 1/1 (completed)

Words: 5,229

Summary: "It was the risk of it that made it so thrilling – the sweetness of suspense. Any moment now, he would be found out. His secrets and lies would come dripping from his greedy mouth and he would be forced to face the consequences. But for now, he wanted to devour Arthur for all he was worth, gorge himself while he had the chance."

Merlin has resigned himself to admiring Arthur from a distance; there were far too many boundaries between them to ever attempt to tear down. But Arthur is determined and Merlin's defences are crumbling.

Thoughts: another super cute fic that my sister recommended. It was such an enjoyable read!

7. Sunrise in Ealdor, Sunset in Camelot by mobycotton

Warnings: none, except some alcohol use

Chapters: 18/18 (completed)

Words: 94,604

Summary: Merlin takes 3 days off work to deliver medicine to a distant village, and when he doesn’t return when he is supposed to Arthur gets worried. He finds Merlin in Ealdor, sick and bed-ridden, and refuses to return to Camelot until he is better. Cue a protective Arthur who won’t leave Merlin out of his sight even after they return to Camelot, which makes for a very awkward sleeping situation. Anything to make sure Merlin is safe, right?

Thoughts: While I haven’t read all of it, the bit I have read was extremely adorable and genuinely lives in my head rent-free. Beautifully written! 

8. At Arm's Length by sirencalls

Warnings: none 

Chapters: 1/1 (completed) 

Words: 9,142 

Summary: “I’m sorry, there must be a mistake.” Uther furrows his brows. “That is my son’s manservant.”

“This is Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer who will ever walk the earth. It is our deepest honor to be able to offer his hand to your son.”

“Merlin?” Arthur asks, looking across the hall. Merlin looks the palest and the smallest Arthur has ever seen him. He looks like a scared animal that knows it’s about to be trapped, and that’s when it clicks for Arthur that no part of this is a joke. None of it. “Merlin, what are they talking about?”

Thoughts: this one was very cute and I absolutely loved being able to read about Merlin getting to wear fancy clothes and being regal :3 almost won me over to the arranged marriage trope! 

9. Circumlocution by undermycoat

Warnings: Smut 

Chapters: 1/1 (completed) 

Words: 5,875

Summary: Merlin pushed himself up from the chaise and said, “I’ll go find something else to read.” He pressed his hands into his lower back, and Arthur focussed on that, those slender fingers pressed into soft, blue fabric, rather than the arch his back made when he stretched, or how the action resulted in Merlin sticking his arse out, the sweet curve much too close to Arthur.

Merlin turned around. “Any suggestions?”

Arthur shook his head, so Merlin turned back around and went searching.

When he returned, the book held between his fingers was narrow, Arthur having to squint to make out the words on the spine.

“Poetry,” he said dully after reading.

“Yes,” Merlin replied, certain.

Thoughts: While I usually avoid reading smut fics, I decided to give this one a shot because who can turn down a library sex fic? I was not disappointed. It was very well done 👌🏻

[earlgreyinpajamas]

Any more love spell or fake dating fic recs for merthur? :)

love spell

Kiss Me Now (Kiss Me Forever) by pendragonally (@pendragon-ally)

When is a love spell not a love spell? When it’s just Arthur trying (and failing) to express his feelings— not that Merlin knows this, of course. Figuring it out leads to more than one revelation.

~~~

technically not a love spell fic, but also,, like merlin i was also firmly on the oh yeah he's enchanted camp dhfadjlhk so im counting it

2. Book Of Love by messandahalf (@messandahalf10)

Arthur has just lifted the ban on magic, and despite having Merlin around to answer his questions, he decides to try to do some research on his own. Books on magic are scarce in the castle, so he digs around in the library alone one night. What he ends up reading has some… interesting consequences.

~~~

love spell makes arthur obsess over his true love. hmmm wonder who that is

3. Call It True Love by orphan_account

Arthur falls under the effects of a love potion. Merlin has a headache.

~~~

adfhjkhfd poor lancelot

fake relationship

I Want Love, I Want Us, I Want Peace by InkThroughHerVeins (@ink-through-her-veins)

The Queens of Albion throw a ball every year for noble families to introduce their eligible sons and daughters. Except Camelot doesn’t officially have a queen. So, Arthur makes Merlin help with the planning.

Written for Merthur Week 2022. Each chapter uses one day’s prompts.

~~~

merlin being queen before even being queen!!!

2. For You, For Me by Camelots_Daffodil (@camelots-daffodil)

Merlin and Arthur are taken captive by a slaver with slightly deranged tendencies, and in order to save Merlin's life, Arthur claims that he is his consort. Their captor decides he wants to test the strength of Arthur's love for his supposed consort.

Written for Merlin Bingo 2022: Misunderstandings

~~~

fake relationship for a cause!!

3. Charting Stars On A Stained Glass Ceiling by mornmeril (@mornmeril)

Merlin leads a relatively content life - or as content as is possible under the rule of a magic-hating King. When the arrogant son of said magic-hating King starts becoming a regular at his coffee shop, Merlin is a little puzzled. When said Prince prat then proceeds to ingest a love potion on Merlin's watch that results in him having to move into the Royal Palace as Prince Arthur's (fake) boyfriend, Merlin wonders which deity he has angered. Things only get more complicated from there.

“Welcome to The Drip and Grind, what can I get for you?" “The same thing I always have,” Prince Arthur says, sounding vaguely disdainful and unbearably posh. “One would think you’d remember my order by now." Merlin scowls. He remembers His Haughtiness’ order perfectly well, but sees no reason to inflate an already unbearably large ego. “You’re not my only customer,” Merlin keeps his voice coolly polite; barely. “You realise that’s not the proper way to address me?” And is that a smirk at the corner of the stupid prat’s, stupidly gorgeous mouth? “Apologies, your High-and-Mightiness. Now do you think you can tell me your order or must I divine it from my crystal ball?”

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excellent, spectacular, life changing, loml