Merlin Squiggles

His father has not, will not. On rare days, Arthur is gifted a grip to his shoulder: tight, heavy. Always with that crushing, crippling shame. The weight of his own disappointment.

Arthur tries to—well. He slaps his knights’ shoulders, light, quick. Sometimes even a rallying punch to an arm, closed fist, gloved fist. Never skin on skin.

He is not slapped back. Untouchable, always, on the tourney field and off.

Of course, he’s had servants to dress him since before he could lift a sword, but they’ve always known their place. Always careful, deferential. Never eye to eye.

“Up you get, you giant—fucking— lump—!”

It’s like hot steel, shock skewering his belly deep, each time Merlin touches him. Grabs him. Moves him bodily. Pushes him out of bed, shoves him into tunic and hose.

Fussing, always fussing, careless, full of care. “What’s that, on your face?” A warm, calloused hand, checking—skin on skin, eye to eye. “Oh, I see, just your big fat mouth as usual, no cause for alarm.” The dimple pokes Merlin’s cheek as his fingers poke Arthur’s sides.

It should sate his hunger; instead, it reinvents it.

The hunting Merthur has become my obsession in recent days

"To the task!"

(I know. Please ignore the fact that I had to flip the source picture to make it work. 😖)

No AI used, because I don't need that shit.

I hate that we live in a world where there are douchebags out there who call themselves 'artists' and use AI.

And in only vaguely related matters, I hate that my one and only set of skills means people don't even notice how much work goes into my pictures.

left: source pic (Captain Flint in Black Sails) right: manip - broadened shoulders and slimmed hips to better suit Bradley James' physique + red shirt to better suit the Pendragon theme The differences are subtle, but they require efforts and mean the resulting manip works better as a whole.

I don't know why I wanted to show you this, but I just saw a great artist on the verge of quitting a fandom because of such hideous accusations, and it's made me angry and truly disheartened.

And, to be perfectly honest... when I see the number of notes my stuff gets, it makes me wonder why I continue to share out here. I'm still posting because of the few die hard friends who engage and interact and reblog, but I could get the same kick out of just sending them my stuff directly via DMs or Discord.

This new serving boy is. Interesting.

Morgana watched as Arthur began listing off a ridiculous amount of chores that absolutely weren't his responsibility, wondering how long it would take him to realize Arthur was being an ass.

Though maybe he already pieced that together.

"Poor Merlin," Gwen whispered, also bearing witness to Arthur's cruelty.

"How long do you think before this one quits?" Morgana chuckled.

Gwen folded her hands in front of herself with a frown, "I'd like it if he didn't...but probably soon."

Morgana pursed her lips together. Why would Gwen care whether or not this Merlin stayed? He wasn't very remarkable. Quite clumsy. A bit of a fool, to be honest.

"Well, maybe the next one will be more entertaining," Morgana started walking, no longer interested in the gangly servant.

Gwen followed dutifully after her, "Is it just me or is Arthur being particularly nasty to Merlin?"

Morgana hummed. She didn't really want to think about Merlin anymore, but it would seem this is where the conversation would lie.

"Perhaps," Morgana could see what she meant. Arthur was never kind to his manservants by any means but there was unique sort of insistence on making Merlin as miserable as possible. "I'm not sure."

I'm fairness, he was starting to give Morgana a bad taste in her mouth, so maybe it was something to do with the boy himself. That would require offering Arthur grace, though.

Hm.

Morgana couldn't find it in herself to fall asleep tonight. The nightmares had been worse as of late and she simply didn't have it in her. Not tonight. Instead she walked the castle halls, wondering idly if she could dodge the guards and slip out into the meadows.

Except, as she turned a corner she saw Merlin. It took her a second to process that the serving boy must have only just now been leaving Arthur's chambers.

"You know Arthur is being testing to see how far you'll go?" The question pulls itself from her throat before she can catch herself, no formal greeting to speak of.

Merlin blinks a few times before he bows to her slightly, "I'm aware, my lady."

"Why do you put up with it? You know you can quit?" She pushes, "I for one think you should. No one should be treated so-callously."

"Well thank you, but that would mean subjecting some other poor soul to Arthur," Merlin hums in amusement, a small chuckle leaving him. There's a knowing glint I'm his eyes that Morgana feels she should understand. Demand answers to a question she's not even sure she knows.

"If I may-why are you out at this hour, my lady?" Merlin asks her suddenly. His eyes fill with a genuine, careful concern Morgana has only seen from one other person. She pauses, a lie getting caught in her throat.

"I don't want to have another nightmare," all her breath leaves her at once, but a weight lifts from her shoulders.

Merlin smiles kindly at her, and she realizes it'd been borderline cruel to assume Merlin was anything but an honest-almost pure heart.

"I was hoping to go to the meadow," Morgana continues since apparently she was ready to just tell Merlin everything going on inside her head.

A coy grin graces his face, "You'll never make it out of the palace, lady Morgana."

She frowns, turning her nose up slightly to make a point "I'm sure I can outsmart a few guards."

His grin widens, "You could also...head out through the back kitchen entrance for the servants."

She blinked.

"And how does one find this entrance?"

Merlin offered her a hand, and despite all proper convention...she took it.

The moon illuminated the fields of flowers; spilling over white, purple, and orange petals in an etheral glow. Morgana took it all in with a deep breath and bright smile, "Thank you Merlin."

The servant boy simply waved his hand, as though to tell her not to bother, as he collected a small bouquet. She'd love to venture farther, to get lost in the forest-the only place she'd ever felt truly at home. Deciding she'd already gone this far she might as well double down, Morgana sank into the grass, lying on her back to watch the sky.

A minute or two passed by and Merlin came to sit beside her. A slender finger points into the sky, tracing a line between the stars.

"Draco," Merlin whispers next to her.

"I didn't know you knew the stars," Morgana hums, following Merlin's finger as he traces another.

"Gaius taught me a few," he shrugs easily.

"Is it fun? Learning from Gaius?" Morgana asks, a comfortable feeling settling between them. As though they've been friends for years.

"Sometimes," Merlin drops his hand, "Gaius just knows so much he tends to forget he possesses a lot of uncommon knowledge."

Morgana feels a small laugh leave her, "Sometimes it's like listening to a man who only speaks riddles."

Merlin laughs openly, "oh no. Nothing like that. A man who only speaks riddles is far more confusing."

He said it with so much assurity Morgana found no room to question him.

"You're a good man Merlin," Morgana looks at him, "I'm sorry you have to put up with Arthur."

Merlin laughs again, "He's not so bad."

She scoffs, "Really? You said yourself you refuse to subject another poor soul to him."

Merlin rolls his eyes, never taking them off the sky, "He's fun though, and he could have had my head plenty of times now. I don't mind him all that much, to be honest."

Morgana blinks, cogs and wheels turning slowly in her mind before a subtle click forces her eyes as wide as saucers. She bites her tongue before she can embarrass the servant boy. She doubts his intention was to admit he was in love with Arthur. But it certainly sounded that way to her ears.

For some reason she found herself smiling, an uncontrollably giddy feeling resonating in her chest as she looked back up at the sky.

Poor Gwen, if only she knew the boy she'd come to fancy was in love with that dolt Arthur.

She should feel bad for her friend, Morgana realized, but honestly she was closer to celebrating and jumping for joy.

Which was ridiculous, she scolded herself.

"We should probably make our way back," Merlin sat up, "I hope you at least try to rest, my lady."

He stretches out his hand to help her from the ground, and she takes it graciously, "Thank you for bringing me out here Merlin."

"Of course."

His smile is wide and brilliant and Morgana can't help but to wonder what such a kind soul sees in Arthur.

When the sun rises, Morgana finds herself opening her eyes.

She's not sure when she dozed off, she just knows theres a subtle kink in her neck from falling asleep against the window. No nightmare...

A calm washes over her, and for the first time in many years she doesn't regret the time she spent resting.

Gwen walks in, breakfast in hand and stops when she sees Morgana pressed up against her bedroom window.

"My lady-please don't tell me you were up all night?" Gwen puts the plate of food down, stopping when she sees the bouquet Merlin had left.

She stares blankly at it for a second, looking to Morgana for an explanation.

"Not all night," Morgana answers the first question, "Merlin brought them from the meadow."

Gwen brushes her hand of the soft petals and furrows her brow, "Merlin brought you flowers?"

As she shook off the last bit of sleep that clung to her mind Morgana realized how that must look. Her stomach plunged with dread at the thought.

"...I asked him to," she attempted to recover the situation, "while he was gathering herbs for Gaius."

Gwen nodded, casting a quick glance to the other side of the room, "If you ever want flowers all you have to do is ask, my lady."

Morgana couldn't see Gwen's expression as she turns to the wardrobe on the other side of the room, but she can't help but feel as though she's made some sort of mistake.

Perhaps she had.

Oh Gwen I'm terribly sorry I took the boy you fancy out to the meadows and it actually turns out he's into men.

Morgana frowns. Why had she gone with Merlin into the meadows? She could have very well told him to leave and she's sure he would have.

...Maybe. Potentially. She wanted to see what Gwen saw.

Morgana supposed she could see why Gwen would like the servant boy. He was kind, and rather funny. A shame, truly, that his heart belonged to someone else.

"I wouldn't want to trouble you Gwen, you do so much already," Morgana pushes herself off the window ledge to see to her breakfast.

"You never trouble me, my lady," Gwen answers easily.

Morgana feels her chest go warm. Her heart starts that fluttering nonsense it tends to, and she quickly squashes it down with a bite of a strawberry.

Gwen turns back to her, that gentle smile she always wears on her face, "What would you like to wear today, my lady?"

Freya’s boat was covered in soft green grass, like she was being gently laid back into a quiet meadow one last time. It looked so peaceful.

Lancelot’s boat was overflowing with flowers, it was heartbreakingly beautiful as it floated away.

But when it was Arthur’s turn…

Merlin couldn’t do it.

Arthur’s boat was just the plain, ordinary straw one. No grass, no flowers, nothing at all.

Merlin was so devastated he didn’t even have the heart or the energy left to decorate it. He loved Arthur so much, more than anything in this world . He just stood there on the shore, watching that bare little boat carry the man he loved most down the river with nothing but straw.

Because what do you do when the person you loved most in the world is suddenly gone? what do you decorate that with? what could possibly be enough?

@merthurmicrofic prompt: wake

Oh Captain my Captain! With stubble. 🫠

Another manip inspired by @the-pen-pot's WIP "Sigh No More".

“Where’s what?”

Arthur fumbles for words. “Your…”

Merlin raises an eyebrow. “My…?”

Arthur gestures downward helplessly.

Merlin’s eyebrows fly up. “My penis?”

“Well—I—yes!” Arthur’s face burns. “Where did it go?”

“Where did it go?” Merlin repeats incredulously. “It was never there in the first place!”

Arthur bites down on his instinctual response of what happened to it, because Merlin is pulling up his pants and flushing a deep, uncharacteristically embarrassed red, and Arthur is struck with the realisation that he fucked up.

He reaches out to still Merlin’s hands. “Merlin, wait. I’m sorry. I don’t—I’m just confused.”

“No, it’s—“ Merlin sighs and scrubs a hand over his eyes. “It’s fine. I understand. I assumed you knew, but clearly you didn’t, so we don’t have to—yeah.”

He grabs his shirt, and panic leaps up Arthur’s throat.

“Wait, wait, please. One second. What did you assume I knew?”

Merlin’s mouth drops open. He gestures wildly to his chest, with its twin scars that Arthur hasn’t dared ask about for fear of touching on a sensitive subject, and then to his lack of penis.

Arthur just stares at him.

“I’m trans!” Merlin explodes. “I’m a trans man, Arthur!! Jesus!”

This time, it’s Arthur’s mouth that drops open.

“You are? Really?”

Merlin’s eye twitches. “Really.”

“But—“ Arthur frowns. “We’ve been friends for years. How did I not notice?”

“I don’t know, Arthur,” Merlin says tersely. “I think we’re both a bit unclear on that point. I told I was in Girl Guides, for gods’ sakes!”

“I assumed it was a particularly progressive branch, knowing Hunith,” Arthur argues, though his face is beginning to warm.

“What about when Morgana and Gwen and I bonded over bra shopping?” Merlin needles. “That didn’t tip you off?”

“You’re a drag queen!” Arthur snaps.

Merlin resolutely ignores that point. “What about when I showed you pictures of myself in secondary school? When I had long hair and, notably, tits!”

“Teenagers go through phases!”

“Oh my god.” Merlin pinches the bridge of his nose. “So you thought I was, what, stuffing my bra?”

“You’re a drag queen, Merlin!” Arthur reiterates. “I thought you started early! How on earth was I meant to get ‘Merlin is trans’ from all that?”

“Anyone with two wits to rub together would!”

A beat of quiet passes. At least Merlin has stopped trying to redress.

“I can’t decide if this is a stunning display of allyship or stupidity,” Merlin murmurs. “I really didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you.”

Arthur stays silent. He’s combing back through his memory now, and he’s not quite willing to admit that he, perhaps, could’ve paid more attention. Which is irritating, because it feels like Merlin is all he pays attention to.

“Anyway.” Merlin forces a smile, slaps the mattress, and stands. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Arthur blinks. “What?”

“You’re gay and I don’t have a penis,” Merlin says, as though that explains everything. “And I thought you knew that going in, but since you didn’t…”

He heads for the door.

“Merlin!” Arthur scrambles to his feet and blocks Merlin’s path. “Wait. Stop.”

“It’s fine, honestly. For some people it matters; some people it doesn’t. Either way I understand, really. Goes with the territory.” Merlin tried for the door again, but Arthur blocks him.

“You haven’t asked me.”

Merlin frowns. “What?”

“You haven’t asked me. If it matters.”

Arthur drops to his knees and tugs gently at the waistband of Merlin’s boxers.

Merlin inhales sharply. “What—“

“Ask me.”

Arthur smooths his palms over Merlin’s thighs and looks up at him through his lashes.

“Ask me.”

Merlin exhales slowly. “Arthur,” he starts, “does it m—“

“No,” Arthur says, and proves it.

The Golden Age King Arthur we all deserved... but never got.

No AI used - because I don't need that shit.

Please do not repost, but REBLOG all you want.