Merlin And Arthur - Tumblr Posts
Hey guys, I was reading this article on 10 underrated villains and morgana is there. So as I’m reading her description thingy I notice it says THIS
Apparently Merlin and Arthur have a brotherly relationship. I’m sorry I didn’t know this show took place in Alabama. But who knows maybe it was fine then for brothers to fuck eachother. I agree with everything else tho
Anyways here’s the article if you want to read it:
https://collider.com/underrated-tv-villains-21st-century-ranked/#morgana-pendragon-mdash-39-merlin-39-2008-2012
‘I really like the Tim and Bernard Dynamic I don’t know why it’s just really nice’ BITCH ITS THEM
You’ve been MERTHURED. Oblivious blonde himbo and his tiny, pale, extraordinarily powerful black haired boy. You’ve been HAD.
Thank you so much Ash!! I love it! It's Completely different from how I thought this would turn out and probably 500x better than how I would have written it!!
Summary:
Merlin knows from the heart-stopping moment that the fallen branch impales and rips his tent almost in half, that he hates, nay loathes camping and to his horror, it’s the annoyingly posh rich bloke with the top-of-the-range camping gear who comes to his rescue.
However, it soon becomes clear that there’s a reason that the two of them ended up at the camping ground next to what is rumoured to be one of the most haunted and powerful forests in Britain on the last day of October, and it’s far bigger than either of them could have ever imagined.
Written for the lovely @das-alien-vom-planeten-wooh who wanted to see Merlin and Arthur camping in a storm. Hope you enjoy it :)
Can we just acknowledge the similarities between human Arthur and cat Arthur, please?
So I've been thinking in this acouple times a year but would anyone want to read or request some
Adventure of Merlin imagines
Mainly Aurther
? ? ?
GOD the way they would
Happy pride month to these two specifically I can’t believe that Merthur is real
You think you’ve got everybody fooled, don’t you?
balinor giving merlin the ambrosius sigil and merlin carrying it around with him for years. merlin and arthur sitting around a campfire, both believing fullheartedly that they’ll be dead by morning bc like hell are they going to allow the other to sacrifice themself to close the veil. arthur giving merlin the du bois sigil as a parting gift and ensuring that merlin will be taken care of after his death. merlin biting the bullet and handing over the ambrosius family sigil in exchange. luckily, arthur doesn’t recognize the ambrosius sigil for what it is - a dragonlord lineage. BUT now he thinks merlin has noble blood and is wondering when tf he figured that out, if he ever met his father, and why he never told arthur.
Leon: That shirt looks great, Merlin.
Merlin: Thanks.
Leon: But I bet it would look even better on Arthur 's floor.
Arthur : Are you hitting on Merlin... for me?
Leon: Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here?!
Arthur : It's kind of complicated, but Merlin -
Leon: Got it. Forget I asked.
Ever since Merlin was a small child, Hunith had always bombarded him with loving touches. She carried him whenever she could, and when he grew too big to be carried, she left him with warm hugs and soft touches on his cheeks. She wiped his tears when he cried, and intertwined their fingers on cold nights as they slept.
Arthur, on the other hand, could not remember the last time he was touched by his father in any way other than a firm clasp on the shoulder. All his life, he's known nothing but side glances and firm remarks. No one was there to wipe his tears away when he cried, and certainly no one was there to hold him on cold nights as he slept.
He was the prince of Camelot, after all, and everyone knew that princes cannot be soft.
Which was why, the first time that Merlin went in for a hug, Arthur immediately flinched back.
They stood in silence for a few moments before Arthur left, unable to stand the tension in the air. Not thinking much about it, he had rendered it just another one of those awkward little moments with Merlin that would soon dissipate from his memory.
Oh, how wrong he was.
Arthur found himself unable to move on from it. He spent that night turning in his bed, wondering what it would've been like if he accepted Merlin's hug - The warmth and comfort that he had only ever seen given to others. He fell asleep wondering what it would feel like to be embraced by another.
Merlin doesn't do it again, at least not for a while. It was understandable, especially after Arthur reacted so drastically at his first attempt at closeness, but Arthur still couldn't help but spend another few sleepless nights regretting his reaction.
Because he was the prince of Camelot, and if Merlin - irresponsible, reckless, sarcastic Merlin - wasn't willing to touch him, then no one was.
So when the second time came - when Merlin, most likely without thinking ("when does he ever think?"), went in for a hug, Arthur hugged back.
He wrapped Merlin in his arms, and oh, it was bliss. The warmth and the comfort and the closeness that he had heard so much about were all real. He couldn't help but tighten his arms around the other boy's thin body and lean in, rendered helpless by a sense of aching intimacy.
Questions immediately appeared in Arthur's mind: How had he survived up until then without touches like these? If Merlin had never been assigned as his manservant, would he have gone his whole life without experiencing this? And now that he's finally experienced this, how could he go without it for the rest of his life?
The thought pained Arthur, so he squeezed even harder.
They didn't talk about it afterwards, but Arthur knew that Merlin knew. Arthur had exposed the softness underneath his hard exterior, and now Merlin knew.
And lord, was it great.
Their previously rare touches turned more and more common. Soon, putting on Armour turned into lingering touches on Arthur's body, and training sessions turned into Merlin haphazardly wiping the sweat from Arthur's forehead as he leaned into the cooling touch on his skin.
Sometimes, if Arthur was feeling brave, he’d even initiate some of these touches.
He’d hook his finger with Merlin’s as they walked to the stables, running his thumb against whatever skin he could reach. He’d warm Merlin’s seemingly forever cold hands by gently pulling them into his own bigger ones. He’d walk up silently behind Merlin as he’s softly humming a song while polishing Arthur’s armour, and wrap his arms around his waist, burying his head into the crook of Merlin’s shoulder.
It was like Arthur's mind was trying to reclaim all touches lost to the years. He craved skin - Merlin's skin - on his. He craved the way Merlin's fingers ran over his muscles. He craved these moments of intimacy where he wasn't Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Camelot, and he was just Arthur.
And somehow Merlin knew of this insatiable craving of his, because he was always giving and giving and giving. Arthur never openly asked for the tender touches and the soft trails of fingertips against his stomach, but Merlin - lovely, gorgeous, beautiful Merlin - was always there to give.
The love in Merlin was overflowing, and Arthur was there to catch every last drop of it.
And as Arthur was still human (despite how hard he tried), there were times when he wept.
Arthur cried the same way he cried when he was a child - with his shoulder shaking, his eyes shut, and his hands trembling. He also used to sob with his mouth open and with his grief audible like any other child, but that had long been scolded and beaten out of him.
However, despite the habits that he brought into adulthood, the nights when he cried were no longer like the lonely nights that he suffered through as a child - There was no ache in his chest as tears ran down his cheeks. No biting the collar of his shirt as he attempted to stay quiet. No harsh words to keep him silent.
There were, in their place, gentle caresses to his forehead as Merlin smoothed back his hair, murmuring words of comfort under his breath. A warm shoulder to lean on as he cried quietly. Thumbs that wiped under his lashes and nimble fingers that caressed his cheeks.
A voice that cooed and replied, “I'm here, darling” when Arthur whispered, “Merlin, Merlin, Merlin” through his tears. Lips that pressed against his as another sob seeped out. Arms that wrapped around Arthur, and gentle hands that ran themselves comfortingly over the expanse of his back until they both fell asleep.
And what a joy it was, to have someone who wiped his tears away when he cried, and someone to hold him on cold nights as he slept. To be touched and held and loved.
What a joy Merlin was.
I learned a while ago via a Merlin fanfic (and a couple google search results afterwards) that medieval peasants would break a coin in half and exchange it with their betrothed instead of exchanging rings for marriage.
Merlin and Arthur are constantly referred to as two sides of the same coin.
Do what you will with that information.
Merlin and Arthur??!
Ships where one person can withstand torture to prevent something horrible from happening, but can't handle the person they love being tortured ... that's the good shit. That's that Orpheus and Eurydice parallel level ship.
Every time you reblog from me, you receive a mental image of Arthur and Merlin kissing.
Every time you reblog from me, you receive a mental image of Arthur and Merlin kissing.
In a Land of Myth, in a Time of Magic...
Ohkay ohkay just
Here's a thought
What if Arthur was meant to die? The uniter of Albion does also mean the uniter of all those with magic and those without
Merlin is magic and Arthur is made of magic. Merlin is rhe most powerful sorcerer to have walked the Earth. He IS magic which means he can control and command all forms of magic. And he can yeah all apart from Arthur's. Now where technically is Arthur's magic? His soul I'm presuming...
So what if he had to die so his soul could unite with that of Emrys?? Unite the soul of magic
What if Arthur had to die so magic could live on? So that Merlin could live on?
Two sides of the same coin so one has to face down for the other to face up...