there was no arthur though :(

Making Hearts

Author: Little_Octopus

Summary: Alfred has a heart condition that can only be treated. One day, he has a concerning accident and heart transplant is his only option. While waiting for a new heart, Alfred befriends his intern surgeon. Though Arthur is a very gifted surgeon, he doubts that just being Alfred’s doctor will mend his heart.

Read it on AO3~~

(Another “Arthur Returns” headcanon! I had this scene running through my head while getting some projects done and thought it couldn’t hurt to do a quick sketch… but then a fic also happened. Sorry for not keeping my priorities straight, like geez… but I hope this misuse of time is enjoyed!)

He’s just in shock, Merlin told himself as he watched the water rise. He’ll be fine, I just need to give him more time… Time. There’d been far too much of it. Too much waiting and hoping and hurting. Now, Merlin couldn’t help but wonder if being absent from this world for all these centuries might’ve had some grievous effect on Arthur. He always imagined that if Arthur returned (when he returned) he’d be the same as he was before. Was that so foolish? Wishful thinking, perhaps… because the man Merlin found on the shores of Avalon was a far cry from the King he’d known and adored…

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(Insp.) I’m sorry but awkward!Arthur just pushes all my buttons plus it’s funnier if you think Uther already knows and loves Arthur anyway and then has to listen to Arthur compare himself to linguini or something

merlin art tag

Weasley Parents + Coming Out

The first conversation of this type at this table had been Charlie, at seventeen, so serious and so scared. He’d looked down at his hands, not meeting Molly’s eyes, or even Arthur’s. The word asexual was whispered like something shameful, and the Weasley parents stumbled over each other to explain that it wasn’t. Shameful. That they loved him anyway. 

They walked away from the conversation feeling close to Charlie, glad for the opportunity to be trusted like this, and for the chance to reassure him of their unconditional love. They hadn’t expected the conversation to be the first of many. 

Fred’s turn was next, a few years later. He was sixteen, and Molly assumed when he asked for his parents attention at the kitchen table that he was about to confess to the mysterious burn mark on the outside of the house, just under Ron’s attic window. When he instead said that he was bisexual, Molly found herself almost relieved. It was Arthur who did the reassuring that time, though they both hugged him before he left the kitchen. 

Ginny’s coming out had been almost casual. She, too, had been sixteen, and had addressed her concerns mainly to her mother, sure that her father wouldn’t fly off the handle. As it turned out, Molly nodded and said that she had known all along, and Arthur laughed and started counting on his fingers.

Harry felt the same conversation necessary, after his breakup with Ginny. He looked, while pronouncing the words, as if he had put something very sharp in his mouth and was getting up the courage to swallow it. “You’ve taken me in and I broke up with your daughter, and I might start dating boys and I’m – I, I’m sorry.” 

Molly’s heart broke, like it always does when Harry’s lack of parental affection throughout his life shines through, and she reached for him, reassuring him that of course it was alright, they loved him like one of their sons, he doesn’t need to hide this about himself. Arthur laughed. “You saved three of our lives, Harry, and then the entire world. It would take a lot more than bisexuality to put us off of you.” It shocked Harry that he hadn’t been the one to use the word, but they had known anyway. He felt so much lighter, so much freer having told someone other than Ginny how he felt. The entire world felt within his grasp, now, with such a strong base of love to draw from. 

The last conversation - of their children, at least, their grandchildren were going to have their own sets of comings-out - didn’t happen at the kitchen table, but rather, at the front door on Christmas Eve, when Oliver Wood, dressed to the nines and bearing a beautiful poinsettia and a bottle of elf-wine, trailed happily behind Percy. “Mother, you remember Oliver from our school days. I’ve brought him tonight as my partner,” Percy said, in a voice that left no room for disapproval or argument. “I would have brought him before, but we didn’t want to steal Ginny’s thunder from the wedding.” 

Molly smiled, kissed Percy and thanked Oliver for the poinsettia, seemingly nonplussed, and just happy to everyone she loved, and everyone her children loved all under one roof.