Still Collecting The Full Alphabet Of The “live, Laugh, Love” Variants If Anyone Has Some Good Examples.

This broke my heart.

5 times Merlin almost died and 1 time he didn’t.

Magic reveal in a terrible situation except whenever it's over and Merlin saved Arthur and the knights hes so tired and upset and angry and overwhelmed and he just sort of turns to denial and

"No." Merlin shakes his head slowly and then more sure.

Everyone looks at him appalled but before Arthur can even open his mouth, he's interrupted by tiny nervous giggles from Merlin rocking back and forth in front of them before stopping abruptly and looking up determinedly.

"No. You all-" he points at the knights (who only flinch a little thank you), "-are you going to pretend you never saw that and then- then!" Merlin says a little hysterically pointing at Arthur now who can't help but take a step back and the look in his eyes.

"You! Are going to wait and then when the time is RIGHT just like I PLANNED I will tell you I have magic! And it will be the perfect moment! And it'll be when I'm ready and I'll tell you everything and it'll be SAFE and and- and you'll be upset but you'll understand and this is just-" Merlin screams a little to himself making everyone's eyes widen.

Merlin looks down with his eyes closed and takes a long breath.

He looks up at them looking like he's about to cry before saying desperately in a small voice, "You guys didn't see anything, right?"

Silence greets him before Gwaine cuts in, in a much less boisterous voice than usual, "I didn't see anything." Looking at the knights beside him, he elbows Elyan in the ribs causing a grunt.

Wincing at the pain, "I don't know what you're talking about." Elyan looks at the others with a very obvious look of 'your turn'.

Percival shrugs solemnly, "I was blinded by the sun."

Leon looks hesitantly over to Arthur before straightening his shoulders, "It must have been a trick of the light."

Merlin's shoulders relax a little as he nods to himself before everyone looks to Arthur.

Arthur looks at his knights and then back to his trembling manservant before looking to the ground and then to the sky.

"We were simply lucky as we always are."

Merlin breaths and everyone ignores the tears falling down his cheek as he turns around.

Story Idea: After 999 consecutive terms as Hell’s first and only president, Lucifer decides to step down, putting the entire netherworld in a panic about who will replace him.

At the same time, a recently deceased PR manager who sold her soul to a demon in her youth finds out the rights to her soul have been sold many times and she is now the property of a low-level government clerk who got her as a gift.

Seizing on the opportunity, she decides her meek and introverted new owner should be the next president of Hell. And she’s gonna make it happen.

If you recognize the scene this is from you are entitled to financial compensation.

This is a redraw!! 2019 version under the cut

I am now upset again, because the catholic church is literally the worst.

Just went on an emotional roller-coaster ride learning about Joan of Arc (Jeanne d'Arc)

The director of cybersecurity from the Electronic Freedom Foundation is offering to help women who have been threatened with compromise of their devices.

experimenting

arthur knows there is something to be said of the way a man wears his scars.

his father wears his, an angry silver cord right above his eyebrow, with defiant pride. time and time again, he has seen a visiting noble alight their gaze on the mar, and his father's bellicose stare in return, a silent war between them. i have survived this, the king would say without words. i will survive you.

on his father's men, a constellation of pink, raised flesh-- a rope of gnarled skin on sir bedivere's left arm from the slice of a blade; a thick, white tear in the fabric of ector's neck. when arthur's young, he sits by fires and listens to the tales of bandits, beasts, and brethren who leave the marks on the warriors who arthur loves.

and, in time, they come to arthur. a snaking vine on arthur's right hip. a thin slice along his left bicep. none of them grow angry and purple the way he's seen after the battle dust settles. he's lucky, in that regard, that all his settle into the skin like they belong there. a man who wears his scars not without pride, but whose scars wear him with the same reverence.

his new knights collect them with the same wonder arthur first collected his. a memory of a battle well fought. a time where death reached out its hand and missed. i have survived this. i will survive you.

but they never come to merlin.

at first, when he's young and naive to all the things merlin has done for him, it stands to reason that merlin is never scarred. he doesn't do anything. later, when the truth outs, arthur knows that was as foolish a thought as trusting his father blindly.

merlin fights alongside him, now, in their older years. he watches as blade lunges, as arrow pierces, as spear aims-- and yet, merlin walks away from battle without a scratch. surely, arthur thinks, merlin has just been lucky. maybe his scars are like arthur's-- not quite as visible as his father's, as his men's. hidden underneath cloth and armour.

merlin shares his battlefield, his kingdom, and-- on the luckiest night of arthur's life-- decides to share his bed, too.

it's after arthur has run his hands over every inch merlin will allow him that he realises. not once, in the fog of their union, did arthur's fingers ever stumble over raised skin, divots or grooves.

"what's wrong?" merlin asks, his voice quiet, his lips pressed to where their hands are joined. "tell me if you're about to kick me out of your bed, at least, so i can figure out how i am going to walk after all that."

it's a joke to mask how scared merlin must feel. this is a new development, though one as easy as breath, as predictable as the sun rising in the sky. arthur will tell him that later. for now, though--

"you promised," he whispers into merlin's neck, "to keep nothing more from me."

merlin frowns, his brows drawn together. "i haven't? i mean, if you're talking about my affections, surely we can both admit that yours were the more hidden--"

arthur places a hand over the groove of a lower rib. "here," he says, "is where you were almost run through by bandits, a few seasons ago." his fingers trail down to a hip. "here, you intervened in my fight with some beast or another, and i had to watch gaius give you stitches. and here--"

merlin stops his hand, sucks in a breath. "arthur."

"did you use magic to heal?" arthur finds he isn't angry, not in the way he expects. "i understand, merlin. you had to explain away so much; it would make sense--"

"it's a glamour," merlin admits in the space between his words.

arthur frowns. "a glamour."

merlin can only nod.

arthur knows what the word means, sort of, from the magical instruction and history merlin has given him in the time past their-- arthur's-- new found knowledge of their bond. but glamours, as merlin had explained, are oft for the use of enchantment, so as to make one's romantic interest view them as beautiful--

oh.

he rolls merlin onto his back.

"show me." it is a plea more than a command. it is not from merlin's king, but rather, arthur hopes, his heart.

merlin sighs. his eyes glow gold.

like roots spreading through the earth, a tide rippling over sand, his appearance changes. angry pink gnarls. fine, silver cuts. the faint shadow of where a burn once sat. they litter merlin's pale skin, old and new, in places arthur never could have imagined.

he knows his face must show something that makes merlin turn away from him. with a shaking hand, he turns merlin's chin back to him.

"tell me one thing," arthur says. it is a command, now. "were these all for me?"

there is no air in the room as merlin nods.

slowly, arthur draws in breath. he leans down, then, and presses his lips to one at the base of merlin's neck.

"then," he starts, shakily, "this is mine." another kiss, to his ribs, the puckered flesh of a sword wound. "this is mine." to his wrist, where chains must have sat at the behest of his father. "this is mine," and he's choking up, now.

merlin's trembling underneath him, a quaking branch in the wind. arthur spreads his fingers over merlin's heart, takes its beat in his palm, and looks him in his eyes.

"i will love everything you show me," arthur breathes, a promise, "because it is mine."

"as am i," merlin promises back. "as am i."

"Magic is evil."

"Well, you see, Arthur, my magic is like your pratness."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You are prat. You were born a prat. You cannot stop being a prat. It can't be helped - it's just part of your nature, and yes, it is annoying to some people, but your friends put up with it because it's you."

"I am a warlock. I was born a warlock. I cannot stop being a warlock. I cannot help it. It's just a part of my nature. Some people think magic is evil, but hopefully...hopefully my friends will put it with it because it's me."