#25daysofmerthur

[thelastbirdlord]

Honeycakes are sweet 😊

[merlinmellark]

Though it hurts to see you go,  I know you’ll never be alone, For I'll be waiting here for you, I know one day you’ll come back home.

[28 words]

day 23 prompt: HOME for: @25daysofmerthur

[25daysofmerthur]

Hear Ye, Hear Ye, all Merthur enjoyers! Join us in December for 25 days of prompts to celebrate our favorite train (carraige?) wreck duo!

Finale blues got you down? Ignore it with our patented Create Your Own Canon coping strategy!

In advent calendar style, I will be releasing each prompt a month early (starting 11/1-11/25) to give you time to prepare! As it is the busy holiday season, don’t worry if you miss a day - late submissions are always welcome!

Use tag #25DaysOfMerthur so I know how to find and reblog your posts! Reblogs will begin on the first official day of the prompt run - 12/1/25! I am on EST, so I will be functioning within that time zone for reblogs/posts

Rules and Guidelines as follows:

⚔️Prompt marathon officially starts on 12/1/25 and goes through 12/25/25.

⚔️ Only posts tagged with #25daysofmerthur will be reblogged.

⚔️ Late posts will be rebloggled through the end of January 2026 sporadically - this is for fun, not to stress! Take your time!

⚔️ No AI usage whatsoever.

⚔️ Any and all media forms accepted! Writing, art, collages, edits, gif sets, claymation, crochet, etc - go wild! Have fun!

⚔️ Writing posts have no minimum or maximum limit, but if your post is lengthy, please use a cut break within your post if it’s longer than two paragraphs.

Guidelines and rules will be updated in this post as needed.

Prompts are already decided, but if you’d like to talk shop, have questions, or simply want to scream about Merthur, you can message me on my personal page @thedeathswish!

The prompt structure is below. Please note for the last four days I will be doing optional longer prompts! (So listed on the image will be one word, while in the description I will have an alternative full line prompt.) They are, however, up to preference - use them as you like!

I will be posting individual pictures with the singular prompts and then - after they’ve all been announced - the full picture with all prompts for you to use in your posts if you’d like!

That should be it. I’m very excited to see what everyone comes up with! Thanks for reading, and I hope this helps fight some of our yearly finale blues!

EDIT: here’s our full prompt list for your convenience!

Day 1: YULE

Day 2: SWEET

Day 3: BITTER

Day 4: FROST

Day 5: FIRE

Day 6: GIFT

Day 7: BURDEN

Day 8: SECRET

Day 9: TRUTH

Day 10: RESOLUTION

Day 11: INDECISION

Day 12: CAPTURED

Day 13: FREE

Day 14: ALONE

Day 15: TOGETHER

Day 16: FOREVER

Day 17: TEMPORARY

Day 18: STEEL

Day 19: SILK

Day 20: HUNGER

Day 21: FEAST

One word prompt:

Day 22: GO

Optional long form prompt:

Day 22: What have you done? / Where did you go?

One word prompt:

Day 23: HOME

Optional long form prompt:

Day 23: What I had to. / I’m home.

One word prompt:

Day 24: CALL

Optional long form prompt:

Day 24: Dont go. / I called for you.

One word prompt:

Day 25: ANSWER

Optional long form prompt:

Day 25: I’ll stay. / I answered.

[transcendental-butimmental]

@25daysofmerthur Dec 3rd: Bitter

Only 9 days late!

The flat was warm when Arthur got home, but the usual sound of Merlin's chaotic cooking playlist was missing. Merlin always made dinner on Tuesdays. They'd fallen into the habit years ago.

Tuesday was the day Arthur stayed late at work, and picked up a decent bottle of wine on the way home, and Merlin would be home before him and try out some fancy new dish, or make pasta from scratch, or do whatever else it was he felt like doing in the kitchen.

He called it his treat for surviving Mondays, so Arthur had joined him in observing the tradition.

Shedding his coat, briefcase and shoes, he padded through to find Merlin jammed into the corner of the couch wearing one of Arthur's jumpers, his hair is disarray, glaring thunderously at the phone in his hand, open laptop discarded beside him.

So. That was bad.

"Merlin?"

The dark head barely twitched to show he'd heard, but Arthur persisted.

"Should I order us something?" he asked softly, and Merlin finally raised his head.

Deep red bruises were vivid against his pale skin. His eyes were bloodshot, his mouth a grim dash. Arthur strode over, lifting the laptop to crush beside him. He didn't say that he knew Merlin had been crying. He didn't mention that the very idea brought a bitter sting to his throat.

He skimmed the open screen, scrolling past posts for adoption, kennel requests and foster families. He looked at his flatmate.

"They're putting Mo down on Friday." Merlin croaked flatly.

Arthur's heart sank. Merlin cared so much for every animal that came through his shelter. He'd named more than a few of them. Always did his absolute best to find their forever homes.

And he was good at it, had the magic touch. He very rarely failed, and seemingly never when it was preventable. Arthur couldn't remember any recent talk of lost causes.

"Mo?" he asked gently.

"Mo." Merlin confirmed, fresh tears welling in his eyes as his breathing hitched.

Arthur murmured in sympathy, his hand finding the back of Merlin's neck. Merlin wavered into his touch, crying silently.

"Mo the Persian that you named after my sister because she forgot Gwen's birthday?"

He didn't think it could be the aloof ex-show cat, but he hadn't heard of any other new Mos.

Merlin shook his head bitterly.

"Mo the newfoundland cross."

"I thought he'd already found a new home?" Arthur blinked, sure he'd remembered correctly.

Merlin hadn't mentioned the giant teddy bear in months. Merlin gave a sob, pushing his fist against his mouth as though to keep any more for escaping.

"Back again." The words were brittle and bitter, and Arthur's heart broke a little to hear the pain in his friend's voice.

And that's when he understood. Mo had been returned, and not for the first time. A dog with multiple failed placements. And a large dog, at that.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry."

Merlin sniffed, pulling out of Arthur's grip. He scrubbed at his eyes and blinked, and Arthur watched the darkening of renewed determination in his Celtic blues.

"I have two days to find him a home." he said, voice steely, but he flashed Arthur a weak smile.

"I'm sorry, I know it's Tuesday."

"Don't worry." Arthur affirmed, tousling one hand in dark curls to make it clear he didn't mind, "You've more important jobs."

Merlin was still up when Arthur went to bed, listening to the furious keyboard tapping from his own room.

Merlin's sour aura was even darker on Wednesday morning, his eyes rimmed with sleeplessness. Arthur made their coffee, making Merlin's twice as strong, and generously sugared. He watched the froth from their expensive machine swirl lazily atop their mugs. They drank in near silence, and Merlin's gaze barely lifted from the screen when he called goodbye.

The next evening was no better, the bitter smell of old coffee clinging to the air. Merlin wasn't home, and after showering, changing, and running out of things to do, Arthur headed to the shelter.

It wasn't hard to guess where he'd be, as the receptionist working in the back unlocked the doors to let him in.

Merlin sat on the floor of a large pen, a small mountain of black fur draped over his legs like... Well, like a large fur. He looked up mournfully when he heard Arthur's approach, and the blonde's chest near cracked in two. Merlin had been crying into the dog's neck as it cosied up against him. Spying Arthur, the long scruffy tail thumped on the floor. That seemed to set Merlin off again, and Mo just licked his face and pawed at his chest in response.

Arthur sat with them, his back against the cage door as he stayed, for Merlin. It was late by the time he finally coaxed Merlin to his feet, the receptionist long gone. Merlin didn't eat that night, and Arthur was sure he didn't even go to bed.

He lay awake a while, mentally listing which departments he hadn't gotten to at work that day. Surely someone there would take the dog.

He woke earlier than usual and made pancakes the way Merlin liked them best. He left them on the counter with a thermos of coffee in the hopes that they'd entice his heartbroken friend.

3pm, Merlin had whispered the night before, looking brokenly up at Arthur from his mess of blankets on the couch. Arthur understood.

"I'll be there."

He'd gone to bed, and he'd pretend, if Merlin asked, that he couldn't hear the sobbing from the living room.

Two o'clock arrived. Arthur rammed papers in his briefcase with a sharp disappointment on his tongue. Nobody would take the dog.

He made his way out of the building, ignoring attempts to waylay him, and sped across town.

Merlin couldn't look at him when he arrived, disheveled and pale and unsteady on his feet, and that decided it for Arthur.

"Get me the papers."

Merlin did look at him then, confused, wounded, that Arthur could think of anything else when Merlin was about to- about to have to watch-

Arthur turned to the receptionist he knew quite well by now. He repeated himself. She jumped into action, efficient, smile playing on her lips.

Merlin finally caught up.

"But- Arthur our lease!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, signing as directed.

"We'll be fine."

"They'll fine us!"

"Then I'll pay it."

"They'll kick us out!"

"Then we'll move."

When there was no rebuttal, Arthur turned to look at him. Merlin look stunned, hopeful, uncertain. He blinked at Arthur.

"You're serious." he said quietly, and Arthur smiled gently.

"That would be a joke too cruel even for us." he said, handing over his driver's license as he was bid.

"Arthur..."

"Besides, we should have done it years ago. Batty, a no pet rule."

Merlin's face shone like the moon as his smile lit him up from the inside. Gone was the bitter tone in his voice when he rushed Arthur with a desperate hug, fingers digging hard into his back, mumbling a thank you into his collar. He drew back with wet eyes, and Arthur made a soft sound and brushed his thumb over one damp cheek.

"Go, then."

Merlin shot down the corridor, double doors slamming with the force of him. Their visits and checks would be brushed aside, just this once, in light of the urgency.

Merlin bounded behind him as they left, Mo's great tail wagging furiously as he was guided into the car, tongue hanging low and his eyes almost as bright as Merlin's.

Their flat was soon covered in dog hair, their couch cushions often found in disarray, and they had to put a child lock on the bloody toilet lid but every time Arthur felt it was getting too much, he'd see the love in Merlin's eyes, and that was enough to chase away any bitterness he felt over slobber on his sleeves and the smell of dog food in the mornings.

Merlin kissed him, one night, a few days after Mo moved in. He was talking about a new flat, or really this house he'd seen with a garden so Mo could get more fresh air, and Merlin had looked at him like he was something extraordinary, and kissed him, just like that.

So they moved into a house before their landlord could find out about Mo. Arthur got a bigger bed, big enough for three, and an office to lock all his work away in. Merlin got a six hob range oven he seemed particularly excited about every Tuesday, and a long wire run and coop for chickens, and proved wrong Arthur's prediction that Mo would harass them.

Mo got a shiny new collar tag with his full name and new address (who on earth names a dog Mordred?) and a dog bed he never stepped foot in after dark, and a garden large enough to race in.

And there was nothing bitter about that.

[reylotrash2187]

I continue my participation to the @25daysofmerthur challenge in the shape of a one-shots series. (It's July. And it's 2026. And I don't care.)

Day 4: Frost

A gift for my wonderful reader and friend @tardisbluedragon : even though part 4 is coming to you so late, I hope you like it!

Like Morning Frost

(Also available in French: Comme la gelée matinale)

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

There was plenty of eggnog and spiced wine at the Yule Banquet the night before. Arthur’s head is pounding when Merlin wakes him up. Waiting for Gaius’ Miracle Elixir to take effect, Merlin casually reveals something to Arthur. Something that makes him question last night’s events—when Merlin had murmured forbidden, delicious words into the Prince’s ear. Something that stirs a part of his body he wished was asleep. Will this turn into another round of this Game of theirs?

*

Or: Merthur Game of Gay Chicken with a touch of Yuletide holidays spirit (part 4).

*

Part 4 of My Yuletide Merthur series, based on the 25 Days of Merthur 2025 Tumblr challenge.

The heat wave is killing me. Posting a fic about winter feels wrong. But I won't let that stop me.

[arrowlovesdragons]

December 1st: Yule

339 words for 25 days of Merthur!

~~~

“What’s that?” Arthur asked, pointing up and over to the dangle of green and red hanging in the kitchen archway.

“Up there? That’s holly. There’s actually a little Yule rule about this one.” Arthur raised an eyebrow as Merlin continued, delight in his voice. “You know how every time we drive under a yellow light, we hit the ceiling of the car?” Arthur nodded. That was one of the oddest and most random rules of the modern day, but it was fun, and it made Merlin smile, so he’d gone along with it.

“This is the same,” Merlin explained. “But with a little bit more… competition.” But then Merlin stopped talking. He just walked away. Right out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“Where are you going?” Arthur called, chasing after him.

They made it only a few steps before Merlin spun around, grabbed Arthur’s collar with one hand, his jaw with the other, and kissed him.

Instinctively, Arthur melted into the warmth, the soft lips against his own, the hands holding him steady as if his knees would give out  (they just might), and Merlin’s chest which hadn't been touching his until Arthur realized Merlin was kissing him and couldn't resist but to fall forward —

Then Merlin pulled away. Smiling. Arthur’s mind raced, his face hot and blushing, and here Merlin was with an evil, smug grin.

“It’s a game,” Merlin said. “And I’m in the lead.”

Again, he just walked away, and all Arthur could do was stand there in shock, listening to the rustling of Cariad’s leash, the pattering of excited steps, and the opening and closing of the front door.

Finally, he put the pieces together and looked up.

Right there, hanging above the wide arch that divided the kitchen and living room was the bundle of holly Merlin had mentioned, berries as red as Arthur thought his cheeks would be.

It’s a game. And I’m in the lead.

Fine, then. A game it is. And Arthur had no intention of losing it.

[merlinmellark]

"It's lonely. To be more powerful than any man you know and have to live like a shadow."

day 7 prompt: BURDEN for: @25daysofmerthur

[merlinmellark]

day 6 prompt: GIFT for: @25daysofmerthur