Merlin's fingers have a frequent habit of going numb. Arthur takes matters into his own hands.
Angel gets a visit from an old friend that ends up turning into so much more. And he thought the oncoming apocalypse was the biggest of his worries.
During the zombie apocalypse, a claustrophobic Gwen falls into a pit where she meets a terrified of the undead Leon.
Morgana's not there when Gwen gets home.
"Leave us," he shook his head, pressing his hand down harder against Merlin's chest. "Please, just leave...me."
"Written me into your story yet?"
"I thought you were dead, oh, God, I thought you were dead."
In which Arthur has visions of the future that cause him more pain and heartache than strictly necessary.
Arthur's brow wrinkled as he gave Merlin a look that wouldn't have been out of place back in Camelot after Merlin called him a clotpole, or a dollophead, and fuck, Merlin had just called him love, hadn't he?
"Arthur, don't make me," Merlin shook his head, willing Arthur to stop, to quit, willing this day to rewind so that none of this had ever happened, so that the two of them were not alone in a cell with a gun.
Merlin knows its Arthur because it's always Arthur, isn't it?
There's a difference between knowing and remembering. Arthur knows that a thousand years ago, he was a king. He knows he had a queen, had knights, had a warlock. But he doesn't remember them. And they don't remember him. Which, in Merlin's case, turns out to be quite the issue.
For Merlin's seventh year at Hogwarts, he would like some peace, quiet, and copious amounts of butterbeer. Arthur Pendragon interferes.
He had put in his blue contacts, covered himself nearly head to toe in cover-up mousse, and still all that Arthur could see in the mirror was decayed yellow eyes and rotting flesh. (In the Flesh fusion)
Merlin's lies are always believed - even when they're not.
"I can't," she tells him when he leans in for a kiss.
He's diagnosed three months, twenty-seven days, and six hours after you get him back.
– Who is this voice, this voice who knows your name, who cradles your heart in their hands? That's what they're doing, they're holding you close not with hands but with words. And suddenly, a violent urge strikes you, you need it to be hands, too, you need this human like you need nothing else – not air, not water, you can survive without those, but not without this voice.
In which Arthur discovers his godly parentage, attends the strangest summer camp there ever was, and deals with all of these annoying feelings he has for a demigod with terrifying and beautiful eyes. And he thought his summer would be dull.
Merlin and Arthur are Not a Couple. Morgana and Gwaine disagree.