Rotting_crow
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It’s there, suffocating under the golden hues of the morning sun, that Arthur first experienced what it must feel like to truly believe in something.
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Sometimes, he’d hear someone wax poetic about their faith. [..]They’d all told him about the same - that one day they just knew. They looked around at the world around them and found miracles and intention. Realized that surely, something or someone had to be the cause. Surely, there was a point to this. There was meaning.
Arthur had never understood it. He’d never needed faith. Never needed blind obedience, or trust in some entity he could not see much less touch. Did not experience that Knowing.
Merlin knelt beside him, chin up and hands low, and yet Arthur felt like the one who was praying. Felt the buzz at the center of his chest; the twitch of his hands at the need to - to say something. Do something. Let that Knowing escape him like a hymn.
Bookmarked by Rotting_crow
10 May 2026
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Everyone insisted that Arthur needed time to process, to accept that Merlin was gone. The only problem was that Merlin wasn’t.
Arthur didn’t know how to explain it without sounding like Uther when he’d seen Ygraine in the well, like he was losing his mind and looking for ghosts. He didn’t know how to look at his court and make them understand that Merlin had once told him about nature, about the sacred connectedness of the earth, and asked Arthur if he felt it. He didn’t know how to say that he hadn’t felt it back then, but that he did now. He felt it all. He felt Merlin in it.
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Merlin saves Arthur's life at Camlann at the cost of his own. Merlin can't die, so it's not that simple.
Bookmarked by Rotting_crow
08 May 2026
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Arthur would have been more than happy to live the rest of his life (or his father’s life, more specifically) with his pretty blonde head buried under the sand.
Trust Merlin (and a farmer!), to not only ruin his plans, but also shamelessly lie.
Also, Arthur was so getting new knights.In other words, Arthur wants a vacation and Merlin is a lying liar who lies. Normal life in Camelot.
Bookmarked by Rotting_crow
23 Apr 2026
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“Lord Geoffrey,” Arthur sighs, rubbing a hand along his brow in frustration. “We’ve talked about this. I am not, at this point, interested in marriage.”
Geoffrey looks over at him then, lips pinched and eyebrows high on his forehead. “No sire. I shouldn’t think you would be the right person for this, anyways. Forgive me for saying so, but I hardly think there’s a magical being in all of Albion that would happily marry you, the son of Uther Pendragon.”
Arthur flushes in anger and embarrassment, despite how he privately agrees with Geoffrey. It shouldn’t bother him so much, really— after all, he intends to marry for love. Still, the claim that no being of magic could ever love him stings for a reason he can’t quite pin.
“No, I was thinking marrying off your Court Sorcerer might be a more effective strategy for gaining magical allies.” Arthur chokes on his own spit.
Camelot has legalized magic, but needs a magical political marriage to seal the deal. Merlin gets courted. Arthur pines, stresses, and pines some more.
Series
- Part 1 of The Golden Age
Bookmarked by Rotting_crow
22 Apr 2026
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The Prayer of St. Francis by Merrily_We_Along (Lovely__Days)
Fandoms: Knives Out (Movies), Wake Up Dead Man (2025)
18 Mar 2026
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Summary
Philip ‘tsks’ and hands him a napkin. “It’s just mass, love. Nothing to get so worked up about.”
He doesn’t dignify that with a response until he’s mostly cleaned up. “Now, dear,” he says carefully, “if you want to go, you are more than welcome to do so. I, however, will be at home with Jelly watching our baking show.” He narrows his eyes. “Why do you want to go?”
“Curiosity mostly,” Philip says mildly. “I’ve heard so much about your priest in Chimney Rock. Why not pop in for a visit?”
Blanc sets his mouth in a firm, thin line and begins the spiel Philip hears every Easter. “It is an institution built on racism, misogyny, homophobia—“
“—traits you’ve been very clear Father Jud does not possess—“
“—you are being intentionally difficult—“
Philip huffs. “Love, I’m not asking you to convert. I just simply am feeling a little nostalgic for my choir boy days.”
“Then you go.”
“You two could catch up,” Philip points out, completely sidestepping his argument. “What’s he been up to since the murder?” For the second time, Blanc is left dumb. His husband waits a moment before quirking an eyebrow. “You haven’t kept in contact,” he more surmises than asks.
Benoit feels caught.