Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: Merlin (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, agent!merlin, agent!arthur, Near Death Experiences, Blood and Torture, Merlin Whump (Merlin), Getting Together, Kidnapped Merlin (Merlin), Worried Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), BAMF Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), pneumothorax, Bathroom Sex, Bathing/Washing
Series: Part 38 of Merthur fic
Summary:
“If not me rushing out to knock out that man, you’d have been riddled with bullets by now.”
“You? That's bloody hilarious. I could take you apart with one blow.”
Merlin wiped blood from his lip, adrenaline surging, mixing with something hotter. Arthur's grip tightened, bodies pressed close in the shadows, the alley reeking of garbage and gunpowder.
“Okay. We'll try.” Merlin muttered, dropping to his knees on the gritty pavement. His nose throbbed, blood trickling steady, but he didn't care. He fumbled Arthur's belt open, yanking down the zipper with bloody fingers.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Merlin (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Additional Tags: Modern Era, Reincarnation, Memory Loss, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Age Difference, Porn With Plot, Angst with a Happy Ending, Overdose, Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Merlin adopted the reincarnated Arthur, but they had sex after Arthur turned 18, True Love's Fuck, Pining Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Part 37 of Merthur fic
Summary:
“Arthur,” Merlin breathes. “Arthur—don’t leave me. Please. Don’t leave me.” As if Arthur ever could.
Arthur lifts his head and kisses him again, slower now, trying to keep him here. When they part, Merlin looks at him with unfocused eyes, raises a hand, and touches Arthur’s face with reverent care.
For a moment, Arthur feels it. Merlin’s gaze slides past him, through him, as if he's watching something—someone—not Arthur.
“Wart,” Merlin murmurs, a bitter smile curving his mouth. “You’re becoming like him now.”
i'm happy to be in @aemelia's list to share wips for anniversary, and also tagging @lualuadraw @thenerdyalien @calamity-talvi @sepezzz @saladscream @k62256 @khmelisuneliart @yviyvi and anyone who wants to join!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Merlin (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Arthur/Merlin/Arthur
Additional Tags: Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Threesome - M/M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fuck Or Die
Series: Part 34 of Merthur fic
Summary:
"Won't see you all day," Merlin continued, straightening Arthur's collar with gentle fingers. "I know it'll be hard for you. I'll try not to get jealous—stay home and be good. When you return, I'll reward you properly."
"Want my reward now," Arthur growled, grabbing Merlin's hip and pulling him closer, seeking another kiss. "And I have no plans to go anywhere far."
"Oh, but you do," Merlin chuckled. "Very, very far."
For @merthurmicrofic | prompt: Change | 1,500 words
Reincarnation | Hogwarts AU | Teacher-student relationship
Truth be told, they had loved each other for a long time. Back in Camelot, Merlin had already been in love with him. And Arthur, though slow to realize it, had loved Merlin just as deeply, long before he even knew what that ache in his chest truly meant.
Their ending in Camelot hadn’t been a happy one.
By the time Arthur finally understood that his heart had always been beating for Merlin… it was already too late. That heart—so full of love—was seconds away from its final beat.
So when destiny, in its strange mercy, handed Arthur a second chance, he didn’t hesitate.
There were no more secrets. No more prophecies. No more betrayal, deception, or war. There was nothing standing between them now.
Nothing, that is, except Merlin himself. That stubborn, ridiculous idiot insisted that they couldn’t be together—because of ethics. Because of a few paragraphs buried in Hogwarts’ employment policy.
“We’ll get caught,” Merlin had muttered for the eight-hundredth time, turning his head away just as Arthur leaned in for a kiss. “Dumbledore will sack me.” (Arthur had half a mind to run for Minister right then and there—just to rewrite the entire bloody wizarding legal system, and every school rule with it.)
It all happened during a seventh-year inter-school Quidditch match—a championship game between Hogwarts and Durmstrang. The air was electric with excitement, banners fluttering from every spire, students and faculty packed into the stands, roaring with anticipation.
Naturally, Arthur, Hogwarts' star Seeker and captain, took to the skies like he owned the damn sky—because, in many ways, he did.
And Merlin was up in the teacher's gallery. He'd been dragged there. By Arthur. (Arthur liked showing off for him. But that part was technically classified.)
As Arthur zipped through the air, barking out orders and leading strategic dives, it stirred something in him—an echo of the battlefield, of clashing swords and loyal knights, of charging into battle with Merlin always at his side.
But now, they lived in a different time. A safer one. There were no wars, no swords, no blood. Just wind and sky and the cheers of students. And Merlin. Always Merlin.
Arthur would gladly trade all his royal titles for afternoons like this. For a world where he could live with Merlin, forever, without secrets.
Every time Hogwarts scored, Arthur would flash the most outrageously smug smile up at the teacher’s gallery and wave—directly at Merlin. He didn’t care that the crowd noticed.
Merlin turned a deep, tomato-shade red and immediately tried to vanish into his cloak like a startled turtle.
“Prat,” he muttered into his sleeve.
But Arthur saw it—the way Merlin bit back a smile when he thought no one was watching. That tiny, helpless curl at the corner of his mouth.
When Arthur spotted the Snitch, he didn’t hesitate. Fueled by adrenaline, ego, and the knowledge that his soulmate was watching from the stands, Arthur pulled off a dive that would’ve made professional Seekers cry. His fingers closed around the Snitch just ahead of Durmstrang’s Seeker.
The crowd exploded. Hogwarts had won. Teammates whooped and hollered, throwing their gear into the air. Before Arthur could touch the ground, his team had lifted him up, cheering like madmen. They hoisted him on their shoulders, parading him toward the stage to receive the Quidditch Cup.
Arthur, grinning like a royal idiot, looked up to the teacher’s gallery and gave Merlin an obnoxious wink.
Merlin, finally giving in, clapped and smiled—a real smile, wide and warm and shining. But then—
The clapping stopped. Merlin froze. His smile faded.
Arthur barely had time to frown before a voice—a voice he hadn’t heard in lifetimes—
“Congratulations, Hogwarts Seeker... Arthur Pendragon, if I’m not mistaken? That was an incredible game.”
Arthur turned instinctively, and there she was.
Standing only a few steps away, clad in Beauxbatons’ elegant blue silk uniform, her curly hair cascading over her shoulders, her posture regal and graceful—just as she had been the day he crowned her Queen.
“Guinevere?” he whispered.
She blinked, surprised. “You... know me?”
He stared, stunned. Of course I know you. How could I forget the woman I once ruled beside? But she wasn’t his Queen anymore—she was just a girl. A student, no less. Her voice, her face, her mannerisms—identical.
She smiled politely. “It’s an honor to be remembered by such an exceptional player.”
Arthur’s thoughts raced. You’re here. You’ve come back too. Did you remember? Do you know who I am—who we were? Do you remember Camelot? Do you remember Merlin? Do you know what he went through when I—
He didn’t even get the words out. Up in the stands, Merlin stood—stumbled to his feet, shoved past the other teachers, nearly tripping on his robe, and fled the gallery.
“m sorry.” That was all Arthur managed to say before he broke into a run.
He didn’t know where he was going—only that he had to find him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Why did destiny always do this? Why did it wait until the moment they were finally almost happy—only to rip it away again?
Through the trees, past the glimmering shadows of dusk. The edge of the Forbidden Forest. The gnarled silhouette of the Whomping Willow, twitching, restless, guarding something—or someone.
Arthur ran faster. And there—beneath the ancient, knotted branches—he found his diamond.
Curled in on himself, hidden beneath his oversized robe. His knees were drawn to his chest, face buried deep, shoulders shaking.
“Merlin?” Arthur called out.
The reaction was instant—Merlin flinched, like a startled stoat. He looked up, and Arthur froze.
Even through those Muggle glasses, he could see it—Merlin’s eyes, red-rimmed and glassy, lashes clumped with the residue of tears.
It hurt.
“Merlin, are you—”
Arthur stepped forward, hand already rising, desperate to wipe those tears away, desperate to fix it, fix him, because he couldn’t stand the thought that he was the reason Merlin was breaking like this—
“Don’t come any closer,” Merlin said quickly, voice cracking. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“The hell I should be?” Arthur took another step, ignoring the low creak of tree limbs around them.
“You should be with—” Merlin’s voice broke again.
“With who, Merlin?” Arthur demanded, stepping closer still.
The Willow twitched, one of its branches cracking down like a whip—but Merlin’s voice suddenly rose, sharper this time.
“Stop! You’ll get hurt!”
Arthur didn’t stop. “Then tell me, Merlin. Tell me where I’m supposed to be. Tell me whose side I should be on, because I thought—” his voice caught, “—I thought it was yours.”
The Whomping Willow reared as if to strike—but Arthur didn’t flinch. And just as the massive branch swung toward him—
Merlin’s eyes glowed gold.
A rush of magic pulsed through the air. The tree froze. Silence settled, deep and immediate.
And Arthur was there—right in front of him.
Merlin’s breath hitched. His hands trembled in his lap
“She was your queen,” he said hoarsely.
“And you,” Arthur whispered, “you are my soul.”
Arthur remembered, suddenly, the last moments of his first life—Merlin had conjured, for the first and only time in all their years, a creature of pure magic for him. A flickering, burning little dragon, made of starlight and fire, glowing with his warlock’s love.
Arthur reached into his sleeve. His wand was cool in his hand.
“Expecto Patronum,”
A ribbon of gold mist spiraled from his wand, soft at first—just sparkles and light—but it grew, took shape, shimmered into something whole.
A bird—a merlin, wings outstretched, plumage shimmering with stardust. The little falcon circled once and descended, quiet and calm.
It landed gently in Merlin’s outstretched palms.
“I love you, Merlin,” Arthur said fondly.
He reached up—hands warm on Merlin’s cheeks—and tilted his face upward.
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
ellievsbear
2087
kaledo-art
dailybridgerton
areudirty
dededos
janainaart
stormborns
