Tourist trap (Stan Pines x fem!reader)
minors dni
Stan is very fond of tourists who believe his stories.
tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, fingering, riding, desk sex, semi-public, praise, sir kink, rough sex
You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wide-eyed and excited, as you clutched your little Mystery Shack brochure in your hand. It was all crumpled from being folded and unfolded too many times, but you couldn’t stop reading all the incredible things advertised on it.
"See the world-famous Sasquatch Skull up close! Touch the Alien Artifacts nobody else believes in!"
You believed it all. Every last word. After all, you’re such a lover of the unknown.
Your group of tourists shuffles around you, mostly adults who looks really unimpressed, grumbling about the entrance fee. You’re the only one whose eyes are wide with excitement and who literally trembles from excitement to see everything the Shack have to offer. And that’s exactly what catches his eye.
Stan Pines stands in the doorway, leaning on his cane, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You don’t notice how his eyes scans over you, how he takes in every little detail: the innocent excitement, the way you’re practically throwing your money at the gift shop already and that naive, gullible glow about you. You practically skip forward, not noticing how Stan’s eyes linger on you. He can tell right away — you aren’t just any tourist. No, you’re special. Too trustful. Sweet. The kind that believe every ridiculous thing he’d ever put on display.
And isn’t that just. . . adorable?
The tour starts and you trail behind him eagerly, eyes wide and shining as he tells stories about the various "creatures" and "relics" in the Shack. Part of you is convinced that every word is true, that you’re standing in the presence of real magic, real mystery.
Stan notices you hanging on his every word and it makes something stir in him. The way your lips parts just a little, these little “wow” and “ohh” you make, the way your eyes follow his every move. Meanwhile other tourists roll their eyes or sigh, bored out of their minds, but not you. You’re his favorite kind of visitor — the kind that made his job fun
"So," Stan starts, turning to you with a glint in his eye as the rest of the group wanders off, "what do you think of this, doll? Pretty impressive, huh?"
You nod enthusiastically, clutching your bag of over-priced trinkets and souvenirs. "It’s amazing, sir! i can’t believe im seeing all this in real life! i mean, is the Sasquatch skull really real? And the alien artifacts, are they, like, actually from space?!"
"Well, aren’t you just the cutest little tourist I’ve ever seen,” he smiles, leaning slightly towards you and letting out a chuckle “most people come in here and they laugh it off. Say it’s all fake, but not you. You really believe in this, don’t you?”
“Yeah! ive always dreamed of visiting such a cool place! thank you, sir, it’ll remain a good memory,” you giggle.
“Ohh, sweetheart, if you’re such a fan, maybe i can show you some of the mysteries we keep hidden from the average tourists.” he absolutely loves how wide-eyed and trusting you are. You really believe every word he tells you?
Your eyes light up, completely oblivious to the hungry look in his eyes. "Really? You’d do that?"
Stan rubs his chin, pretending to think it over, though the grin never left his face. “Hmm,” he looks at you for a couple more seconds before he tells you you. “for you, dear? Anything.”
He leads you away from the main part of the Shack, down a hallway lined with dusty old portraits and broken light fixtures. You don’t even notice how quiet it is now as the rest of the tour group far behind. All you can think about was the excitement bubbling inside you, the thrill of seeing something “exclusive.”
Stan opens a creaky door at the end of the hall and motions for you to step inside. You eagerly obey, stepping into a dimly lit room filled with more strange objects, things that weren’t part of the normal tour. At least, that’s what Stan told you.
He closes the door behind him with a soft click, the two of you now alone and you never really noticed how close he suddenly got, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you further into the room, its cluttered with strange artifacts, most of which hadn’t made it to the main display.
You’re buzzing with excitement as you look around at the dusty shelves. "Wow!" you gasped, wide-eyed. “What’s that? and that?! oh my gosh, is that a real shrunken head?!”
Stan chuckles, settling himself down in an old chair near desk before patting his lap. “Why don’t you come here, doll? I’ll give you a closer look.” there was something in his voice. . . something that should alert you, but you’re too caught up in your excitement to notice it.
Without a second thought, you plop yourself down on his lap, leaning forward to inspect the nearest artifact, still firing off a barrage of questions. "What’s this one? and where did you get it? oh god, is it really cursed?!"
Stan grunts, adjusting you a bit closer as his hands settled on your hips. He leans forward slightly, his mouth near your ear as he begins to explain some ridiculous story about the origins of the objects. But you barely notice how his fingers start to slip lower, just lightly brushing along the hem of your skirt.
You keep talking, completely oblivious, your words spilling out in an excited rush. “This is so cool! i can’t believe no one else gets to see this! i-“ your voice hitches as Stan’s hand slides further up your thigh, his thick fingers grazing the edge of your panties.
He continues talking as if nothing happens. “This here is an ancient artifact from South America. Supposedly cursed, but, eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” he pauses, his hand gently pressing against the softness of your thigh as he keeps you pinned on his lap.
Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to focus on his words, nodding as you squirmed a little. “W-wow, that’s- that’s so cool!” your voice breathy as Stan’s fingers brushes lightly along the edge of your panties, teasing you.
“Yeah, real cool, huh?” he asks you, still as if nothing happened, his other hand sliding up your waist to grip your side, so you wouldn’t move that much. His fingers dip lower, grazing the fabric of your panties before slipping just beneath it. “aaand this one here,” he continues, “it’s said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. Powerful stuff.”
You can barely process what he’s saying, your mind blank as his fingers lightly tease along your slit, collecting the wetness that was beginning to pool there. You shift in his lap, trying to stifle the soft whimper that escape your lips, your legs pressing together.
“Something wrong, doll?” he asks in a playful, no, mocking tone, while his fingers now lightly caressing your clit. “You seem a little distracted. Thought you wanted to hear about all these mysteries*.”
“I- I do!” you stutter. “It’s just- s-sir!”
“Just what?” Stan interrupts, his fingers now slipping lower, pressing firmly against your entrance. His other hand grips your waist, holding you firmly in place as you instinctively try to buck your hips against his hand.
You whine softly, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I-I just. . . oh god-“
Stan smirks. “You’re so cute, sweetheart,” he nuzzles your neck, his fingers now teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of one finger inside your throbbing cunt. “asking all these questions while sitting in my lap like a good little girl.”
You sob, your hips rocking against his hand without even realizing it. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsing beneath you, pressing against your ass, but Stan keeps his focus on you, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wetness, never stopping his stories.
“This one is said to have special. . . powers. Like it can make someone go crazy with just one touch.” he chuckles, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you gasp and clench around him.
Your head spinning, your body aching with need, completely at his mercy as he tease and play with you, all while still pretending like it was just another tour.
Stan’s smirk widens as he feels you trembling in his lap, the way you quietly moan, your face and body both hot. He keeps his voice steady, still saying some ridiculous story about the artifacts, but his fingers never stops their teasing.
“So, this piece here was said to be used in rituals. Uhh, something about unlocking a person’s deepest desires, makin’ ’em lose all sense of control.” its not difficult for him to imagine these false stories, he is an experienced lier after all. You try to listen, try to understand what he’s saying, but that’s just impossible to do as he presses his thumb harder against your needy bud, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. You whimper, barely able to focus on his words. Your body burning, every nerve ending tingling as his rough fingers stroke and tease your throbbing pussy. Your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more, but you’re too shy, too embarrassed to ask for it.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? you were askin’ so many questions before, now you’re all quiet?” his thumb circles your clit a little bit faster and your body jolts from pleasure, a soft cry escaping your lips before you could stop it.
“I’m just-“ you stammer, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you squirm in his lap. “I c-can’t, sir, can’t think”
He chuckles, now pushing two thick fingers deep inside your tight, clenching cunt. You gasp and your back arch against him as he starts to pump them slowly, curling and scissoring his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble. What a lovely sounds you’re making.
“Aww you poor thing, so lost, huh? cant even think straight, can ya?”
You whimper, biting your lip as you try to stifle the noises that are spilling out of you, but it’s useless. Your hips are moving on their own, grinding against his hand as you clung to his shirt, “sir” and “please” leaving your mouth as his fingers stretch you so well.
“Just relax, doll, I’ll take care of you. Just listen to me.” his fingers pumped harder inside your pulsing pussy. “you wanted a tour, right?”
You nodded weakly, not even listening him, unable to focus on anything but the way his fingers were fucking into you, the wet sounds of your dripping pussy filling the small room. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you lose your mind.
“So this here,” he continued, his voice still calm despite the way you were practically writhing in his lap, “was used by an ancient tribe. Supposedly, they thought it could help them communicate with the gods, but I think it’s more useful for somethin’ else. . . don’t you, sweetheart?”
You could only sob in response, your body trembling as his fingers drove deeper, stretching your tight walls, his thumb never leaving your poor sensitive clit, your muscles clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
“You’re such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you squirm in his lap, your wetness coating his fingers. “so cute, all worked up like this. You gonna cum for me, doll?” you nod , your hips bucking against his hand, his fingers thrusting deeper inside your aching cunt. Stan laughs at that pathetic sight, his fingers moving faster now, fucking you hard and deep, your pussy clenching around his digits. “Go on, princess, cum on my fingers.” you exhale when Stan finally let you finish. With a strangled cry, your body shakes, your cunt clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes rolled and brain fucking melted as you shudder in his lap.
Stan grinned, watching you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, such a good little doll for me.”
His hand rests on your breast, first slowly and gently caressing it. His fingers find your nipple and give it a light squeeze, drawing another sound from you. Stan smirks to himself as he feels you shaking in his lap, your body responding to every little touch he gave you. His fingers still buried deep inside you, moving at a slow, teasing pace that had you on edge, desperate for more. You can barely sit still, squirming against him, your breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps.
His fingers curling inside you again, and you whimper, your hips jerking in response. “You want somethin’, don’t you? you gotta tell me what you need, doll.”
Your mind foggy, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers keep working you over, drawing soft, desperate noises from your parted lips. You could barely think straight, let alone put together a proper sentence. “pl-please, sir”
He chuckles, clearly enjoying your struggle. “Please what, sweetheart? you gotta use your words if you want somethin’ from me.”
You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself together, but it’s damn impossible with the way his big fingers thrusting inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You can feel the heat building inside you again, that desperate, aching need, but of something bigger than just his fingers. You need to be filled, to have your brains fucked out. “I need more. . .”
“More, baby? you want my fingers to go faster? is that what you mean?”
You shake your head frantically, your whole body aching for something else. “No, I need- need your cock, sir-“
He raise his eyebrows in a fake surprise. “Oh, is that what you’ve been tryin’ to say this whole time? you’re beggin’ for it now, huh? pretty little thing, all desperate for me to fuck you?”
You whimper softly, your hips moving on their own, trying to push down on his hand for more friction, more pressure, but he holds you still, keeping you right where he wanted you. “Please, sir,” you whisper and nearly cry because of horrible emptiness you’re feeling. “please just fuck me, sir, i need you!”
“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous today, sweetheart,” he tells you, his hand finally pulling away from your dripping slit. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.”
Before you can even process whats happening, Stan shifts you in his lap, his strong hands lifting your hips and positioning you right above his length. You can feel his cock, already hard and throbbing beneath you, pressing up against your soaked entrance, and your whole body tense, your breath catching in your throat.
Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he lines himself up with your glistening cunt, spreading your folds. “You ready for it, doll?” he asks. “this what you’ve been beggin’ for?”
You nod quickly, fuck enough of questions, you thought. “Yes,” you whisper. “yes yes yes, ple-“ but before you can even finish, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. You immediately gasp at the new sensation, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sudden fullness. Oh god, it’s thick, so hard, filling you completely and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside you, every vein, it feels so hot.
Stan huffs out, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re tight. like you were made for this, doll.”
You whimper softly, holding on him, your body trembling as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It’s almost too much, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way he fills you completely. You can barely breathe.
Stan gives you a moment to adjust. his cock pulsing inside you. “There we go,” he mutters watching your brows furrowing. “Just like that. . . you’re doin’ so good, babygirl.”
You moan again, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, and you feel him twitch inside you,. “I. . . nhhah, s-sir”
He leans towards you and kisses your forehead, his hands guiding your hips to start moving, slowly at first. “Go on, princess. Ride me, let me see how bad you want it.”
You bite your lip nervously as you’ve never been in this pose before, you slowly start to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto his cock. It feels incredible, the way his cock stretches you open, hitting all sweet spots inside you. You feel the tension building inside you again, that same desperate, aching need, and you whimper again and again, your hips moving faster as your cunt tightening around him.
Stan’s eyes locks with yours as he guides your movements, kissing your neck. “That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, yesss, such a good girl, ridin’ me like that.”
You cry out at his words, what a sweet praise, your body moving on its own now, your hips grinding down against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You can barely think, barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, your mind clouded, you can’t even maintain the eye contact.
Stan’s hands moves to your waist, holding you steady as he starts thrusting up into you, meeting your movements with deep, powerful thrusts. You whine, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he fucks you, your mouth hangs open while he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust, he holds you so tightly, squeezing your body while you ride him.
You gasp. “I- I’m gonna-“
“Go ahead, doll, cum for me, let me feel it.”
Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shaking, trembling in his lap as you cumming, rambling pleas leave your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing sweetly against your cervix. Stan groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you harder, deeper, drawing out your pleasure as long as he can. “That’s it, such a good girl, baby. . . so fuckin’ tight.”
You fall on his chest, still shaking, your mind still spinning from the intensity of it all. You can feel him still throbbing inside you, still hard, and you whimper softly, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, he’s clearly not planning on pulling out.
After you manage to get your breathing back to normal at least a little you feel his hands still all over you, roughly dragging you up and laying you out on the old wooden table. Your legs tremble, spread wide as he stares down at you, taking in the sight like you’re his prize, his fucking reward.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” grin crosses his lips as he grabs your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the table before slamming his cock back inside your pussy, forcing a cry from your throat. Your body jolts at the sudden penetration, and you moan again, legs wrapping around his waist as he starts pounding into you again. Hard. Rough. Fast. There’s not a drop of mercy in his movements, he's not holding back, fucking you like you're just a thing for him to use. Your sweet moans and that pathetic "sl-slow down!" sound like music to his ears.
His hands all over you, squeezing, groping, touching. He grabs your breasts, kneading them, pinching your nipples through your shirt so hard you whimper, arching your back off the table. He groans at that, leaning in close, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “Fuck, you feel heavenly, baby, can’t get enough of this sweet little cunt.”
His fingers finds your clit, rubbing circles around it, teasing you until you can’t stop the pathetic whines spilling from your lips. He keeps fucking you harder, his hips slamming against yours, the table creaking under the weight of it all. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your gasps, your moans, your begs and his grunts as he’s pounding into you like he was starving for it.
“Look at you,” he looks down at your flushed, wrecked body, his hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. “Such a fucking good girl for me, huh? letting me use this pretty little pussy however I want.”
You can’t really form words, can’t do anything but take it. Your so brain fucked, body burning, you’re so close you can’t think straight. He’s rough, fast, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you higher, higher, until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, again, your pussy squeezing his cock well.
But Stan doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, fucking you right through it, ruining your pussy, even harder now, his hips snaps into you, faster, rougher, and you can feel the slick mess between your thighs, the obscene sound of it only making it filthier. You're choking on your moans.
“Ugh, gonna cum inside you, doll,” he groans. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, you want that? you want me to fucking fill you up?”
You nod frantically, too far gone to care about anything else, and with one last, hard thrust, he buries himself so deep, his cock pulsing as he finishes inside you. You feel how warm it is, his cum filling you up, spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting, riding out his high.
Finally, he slows down, pulling out with a groan, and you collapse back on the table, spent, utterly wrecked. Youre literally shaking, panting, his cum dripping out of your used pussy onto the wood below. Stan stands there, catching his breath, looking down at you and all that dirty mess, what a beautiful sight: your legs trembling, your body marked with his touch and his cum leaking from between your thighs.
He leans over. “you know, guess I'll give you a discount for that pretty face of yours.”
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*smashes in like the Kool-Aid man*
PENDRAGON SIBLINGS YOU SAY????
I have. So many Feels. About Themst™
The complexity?? The layers?? The angst?? Hello??????
Their relationship is just So Much, because you are right, it's all tangled up in miscommunication and missed opportunities, and so many problems that can be sourced back to Uther "War Crimes" Pendragon, who wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it bit him on the ass.
If Merlin and Arthur are two sides of the same coin, then Arthur and Morgana are edges of the same blade.
Because it's the lonely childhoods, the shared grief, the friendship, the vulnerability, the fondness, the teasing, the envy, the jealousy, the almost romance, the protectiveness, the betrayal, the loss, the hurt, the refusal to let go and the desperate hanging on, and the love, the love, the love.
Indifference is the true opposite of love.
Hate is love that's gone rotten.
“If Merlin and Arthur are two sides of the same coin, then Arthur and Morgana are edges of the same blade.” oh fuck….
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK
WAIT HOLD ON WAIT LEMME PIGGYBACK ON THAT BESTIE @0hheytherebigbadwolf (tagging you bc it will be a couple days after you sent this ask)
(Also, for anyone wanting background context on what me and bestie are bouncing off on: voilà)
OK OK SO
we are all familiar with King Uther being the greatest (worst) dad of all time, correct? places such high expectations on his “only son and heir” whilst never officially acknowledging Morgana as his daughter until the very end?
F+ father of the year :)
he is not above sending his children into the dungeon if they disobey him as seen here:
(Jfc he even put Morgana in chains like wtf)
also, he is not above using emotional guilt towards them when he deems it necessary (aka one of the only times he actually acknowledges them as his children)
UTHER (1x02 Valiant)
I trust you will make me proud.
UTHER (1x08 The Beginning of the End)
I’ve treated you like a daughter. Is this how you repay me?
UTHER (1x12 To Kill the King)
You are the daughter I never had.
UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father)
You would believe a sorcerer’s lies over the word of your father?
not to mention that when Arthur or Morgana try to reason with him or argue with him since they are the only ones with the status to do so, he pulls rank
UTHER (1x12 To Kill the King)
May I remind you that you are speaking to your King [...] Take care, child, or I’ll have you restrained.
UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father)
I am your king and your father. You will show me some respect!
UTHER (2x06 Beauty and the Beast)
We live in dangerous times, I cannot allow you to undermine my authority.
UTHER (3x10 Queen of Hearts)
You have caused this to happen, Arthur. My decision is final.
ngl i could include more but i have already spent hours searching for shit (YOUTUBE WILL DIE BY MY HAND THAT STINGY BITC—) but y’all get what i mean: Uther is an abusive fucker and it has messed up the conditions of Arthur and Morgana
now, about the double edged blade…..
as previously established, Uther is a fucking dick and wants his children to obey him but also adore him. with this behavior, the Pendragon siblings react in two ways: with anger & contempt or submission and remorse
way #1
i’m gonna start with Morgana because anger is the easiest to pick out throughout the show. in the first episode of the first season, our introduction to Morgana’s character is her lecturing Uther about executing the man Merlin witnessed upon entering Camelot (such a warm welcome for Emrys, mh?)
MORGANA
I just don't think chopping someone's head off is cause for a celebration. That poor mother.
UTHER
It was simple justice for what he'd done.
MORGANA
To whom? He practiced some magic, he didn't hurt anyone.
UTHER
You were not around twenty years ago, you have no idea what it was like.
MORGANA
How long are you going to keep punishing people for what happened then?
early on, it is easy to pick up on Morgana’s resentment and anger at Uther, who she believes is blinded by his fear of magic and his need for control (which she isn’t wrong about). also, we find that she isn’t one to back off when poking the bear (Uther). she does it constantly in seasons 1 & 2
MORGANA (1x03 Mark of Nimueh)
Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning when she could make these things happen with a snap of her fingers? Like an idle king!
MORGANA (1x08 The Beginning of the End)
How can this child be your enemy? He's just a boy.
UTHER
He is a Druid.
MORGANA
Is that such a crime?…What have these people done to you? Why are you so full of hate?
UTHER (2x04 Lancelot and Guinevere)
How many men would you have me sacrifice to save a servant?
MORGANA
As many as it takes!
to be honest, i wouldn’t be surprised if screaming, arguing and berating Uther about his morals and ethics is her way of proving that she is not weak or submissive to his actions. i mean, Morgana grew up in a household the complete opposite from her time in Camelot. Gorlois, the man whom Morgana considers to be her father and one and only family member, was said to be “just” and “kind” and someone that Uther even considered a good friend who openly kept him in check. Morgana, until the age of ten, understood parental love and empathy unlike Arthur, who spent his whole life without any good or healthy substance of it.
the culture of Camelot and Uther’s wrath is not something Morgana was ever able to fully acclimate to as Uther himself pointed out in 1x12. She “was at odds with [him] since the beginning” and could never picture herself as a Pendragon (point further proven in 4x05: she looked revolted when Queen Annis compared her to Uther) because she didn’t share in their idea of magic = evil and a king = absolute control.
ironic in terms of future plot events, isn’t it :’)
way #2
compare that to Arthur: man’s respressed af. keeps all his emotions under lock and key if they are anything but haughty and serious. y’all, Arthur even says it himself how he “[can't] disagree with Father [Uther] in public.” whenever Arthur finds himself at odds with Uther, he holds his tongue and waits until he can disobey secretly (2x05 when he leaves to rescue Gwen, 1x08 when he helps Morgana sneak out Mordred in the dark of the night, 2x08 when he sneaks out to meet Morgause for more info about his mom, etc). it is only the rare moments when Arthur feels impassioned enough to speak up without fearing any retribution does Arthur talk back at him (so satisfying 👌)
ARTHUR (1x03 Mark of Nimueh)
[Morgana’s] right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen.
ARTHUR (2x08 Sins of the Father)
This is what fuels your hatred for those who practice magic. Rather than blame yourself for what you did, you blame them….You hunted her kind like animals! How many hundreds have you condemned to death to ease your guilt?!….You speak of honour and nobility! You're nothing but a hypocrite and a liar!
ARTHUR (3x10 Queen of Hearts)
You can't forbid my feelings any more than I can. I won't deny them any longer, I love her. I love Guinevere.
we can even compare how the two react to Uther’s violence towards them
(ahahahahahaaaaa what a wonderful dad)
on the left, you see Arthur’s face right when Uther crushes the morteus flower needed to heal Merlin (his manservant/friend/????) and on the right, is Morgana after Uther discovers she was harboring a Druid child in her chambers and she refuses to listen to his reason.
notice how both faces are remarkably similar 👀
however, Arthur’s look of shock and dismay come from his hope that Uther would do the right thing. that he would help save Merlin’s life from dying of poison. that he wouldn’t use this as a method to teach Arthur “what it means to disobey and cross the king.” he truly did hope, just like he always does with the people he holds close. Arthur cannot help but hope and trust that those close to him will not betray him and yet so many do. hence the remorse
looking at Morgana, her shock comes from the fact that this might be the first time Uther reacted to her words and actions in a physical manner. my suspicion is that most of the time, all Morgana previously got was Uther reprimanding her and yelling at her to stop questioning his methods (bc, let’s be real, she was the favorite child.) never has he lifted a finder on her like Arthur and i have proof (cue transcript!)
AND! and, Arthur is constantly warning Morgana about not angering Uther any further because of the consequences she might face (consequences this boy is very familiar with) when Uther deems it necessary to “teach” his children obedience.
UTHER (1x04 The Poisoned Chalice)
You have to learn there's a right and a wrong way of doing things. I'll see you're let out in a week. Then you can find yourself another servant.
UTHER (3x10 Queen of Hearts)
You have caused this to happen, Arthur. My decision is final [...] This is for your own good.
-
UTHER
She will die. The enchantment will be broken. You'll see I was right.
UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father)
I am protecting you from your own foolishness!
so educational 🥰 but see, because Uther presents his punishments as lessons, Arthur himself views them as just a fucked up but meaningful way of his father’s concern because “yeah, I am the first born son and only heir to the throne. of course I need to learn not to do silly things like disobey, talk back to him, be my own person.” <- I’m paraphrasing here
Arthur does and has never seen a way out of the life thrust upon him by Uther (see 3x06). succeeding Uther as king, marrying a noblewoman of high standing for heirs and alliance strength was always expected of him. Arthur never saw a way out of this. even when he and Gwen were in their secret relationship phase, Arthur had to remind himself that this would never last. he loved her and knew she loved him, but there was always that reminder (that sounded a lot like Uther) in the back of his head telling him that it would never last so long as he was prince. he had a duty (constructed by Uther) to serve Camelot and going against his father would mean (in his eyes) that he is going against Camelot (as Uther always presented it to be).
so unlike Morgana, he did not kick and scream but stood firm because that was what he believed was stronger. if he stayed in his lane and did his part, then he would be a good king, maybe even a better one than his father, for Camelot. however, the show proves that differentiating himself from Uther actually made him the better king and more respected, but this is not the meta for that. I am getting side tracked.
OK: so we’ve established parental issues between the two siblings. now onto their very complex, complicated yet beloved dynamic
sO, as i mentioned in this post (because i am lazy and too tired to copy/paste the evidence from there), these siblings do care for one another. they just go about it in the most hilarious and repressed and in-denial way (hilarious to me 😤)
when we meet them, it’s established that these two have known each other for some time. enough for them to bicker and have banter, you know, as you do with a Pendragon. also, should add, neither character are ever aware they are blood-related until s3 (because of some weak-ass bitch named Uther), so you have that very, uh, interesting subplot in s1 that everybody forgets about until you rewatch it. (honestly, I have so many questions. number 1: why???? number 2: it’s only in s1—was it scrapped??? is it like it never existed???? what was its purpose to the plot??? bbc explain yourself—)
however, despite how much it is shown that they do care for one another, they’re relationship in s1 is still undefined and vague as if they also don’t know how to accurately define what the other means to them. it’s very similar to the whole “i really love this person so much but is what i’m feeling platonic, familial, or romantic?” because….you know, guy and girl besties who are close are typically expected to grow romantic feelings for each other, so tbh i would not be surprised if both mistook their love as romantically inclined in the beginning bc, reminder, neither of them were aware they were siblings until much later.
[and this is ALL i am saying on this subplot. i do not want to cause any negative discourse, so if anyone has a few choice words about it, either keep it to yourself or feel free to talk about it with people you know. personally? not a fan of the ship and never will be, but i am not here to post about that.]
anyway, have some featured receipts showing Arthur and Morgana slipping up and showing how much they care for each other.
SEE!!!! LOOK AT HOW THE CARE!!!! SEE HOW THEY WORRY FOR THE OTHER AND WISH TO PROTECT THEM FROM HARM!!! (and see how even when they’re on opposite sides there is still that same love. just more warped and corrupted T^T)
^worried/protective Morgana
^Arthur’s face after Merlin informs him that there’s an intruder heading to Morgana’s chambers
Morgana is very aware of Arthur’s trusting nature. Arthur is very aware of Morgana’s empathy and righteous nature. they understand each other so well which is why Morgana knew just how to harm Arthur in later seasons and why Morgana’s betrayal hit Arthur so hard. it’s also why he never stopped trying to reach out to her in s4 & s5. as @merlinemrys said in this lovely post, the show’s driving force is love. love of all kinds. whatever conflict it is, love is there at the center of it all and, in Arthur and Morgana’s case, it does not save them (just like how love does not save Merlin or Arthur from what lies ahead, as the op of the post pointed out).
that is what makes their relationship/love be like a double edged sword!! that is why they are edges of the same blade!!! they protect and fight for what they believe in and for the people they love, but the same blades cut deep and twist their wounds into a lasting scar.
it is because of Arthur’s love for Morgana that he cannot help but hope and mourn the woman he once knew. it is because of Morgana’s love for Arthur that her feelings of hatred are so strong and ugly.
like honestly,
look at them T^T compared to before
their relationship is so tragic T^T because we knew them before it all went wrong. we knew they cared and understood each other. we knew that for some time, they only had each other to rely on for a friend, a crutch, a breather for when the royal life was too much. both of them were fighters and strive to honor their values. both of them had once leaned on the other for support, had wanted nothing but happiness for each other.
fuck, they didn’t even get the chance to really be siblings because they found out too late, and by then Morgana was on a war path and Arthur only found out at the last minute.
like fuck, man
two sides of the same blade: forged with love, yet used for blood
screencaps brought to you by me, @sourdough-morbread, and farfarawaysite
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