#or would merlin then become mortal

[kateis-cakeis]

God fuck sorry Im on a Series 5 brainrot but do you ever consider this prophecy:

"Let loose the hounds of war. Let the dread fire of the Last Priestess rain down from angry skies, for brother will slaughter brother, for friend will murder friend, as the great horn sounds a cold dawn at Camlann. The prophets do not lie. There, Arthur will meet his end, upon that mighty plain."

Because because, Finna says this about it:

"For hundreds of years the Catha have guarded their ancient knowledge. But now the time has come to pass it on to you, Emrys. For only you can carry their hopes into the great battle itself."

Finna says throughout S5Ep11 that the great battle is nearing. So it is common knowledge amongst the Catha that Camlann will happen.

Merlin knows this from the vision he was gifted by the Vates, but he had no further knowledge than the battle itself. Even Kilgharrah doesn't have this exact knowledge.

And yet, the Catha have guarded this knowledge for hundreds of years.

For hundreds of years, Camlann was known. Arthur's death there was known. That there would be a Last Priestess was known. That a friend and a brother of arms would slaughter Arthur was known.

The prophets do not lie. They never did. That's the thing! All this prophecy, all this doom, all this futile effort to save a man that cannot be saved, it's the entire point of the show. It's the reason that it is a tragedy with a sad ending.

Like the Disir said in Ep5, "You are known, Arthur. you have always been known."

It fucks right? Because everyone from the Catha, to Kilgharrah, to Nimueh, to the Druids, they all knew of Merlin's and Arthur's destiny. But they had different bits and pieces.

The Catha had the most knowledge, and while the Druids knew much of Emrys, it is unclear how much they knew of Arthur's death. Kilgharrah seems very clued in, but not all the way, not in the same way the Catha were. And Nimueh had the vaguest knowledge of all but she still knew something was up.

For hundreds of years, the Catha kept the knowledge of Camlann in a box, sealed in a folded bit of paper, in their own language.

They knew Merlin would fail.

That's the thing, the prophecy doesn't lie at all, this was the path that was set before Arthur was born, before Uther, before Ygraine, Hunith, Balinor, Merlin. Hundreds of years before the Purge. No amount of trying to prevent it would ever work.

Not when the 'prophets do not lie'. Everything Merlin did was fighting against a fate that had already long been decided. The Once and Future King has to have a future, and to do that, he must die.

Perhaps the real meaning of uniting Albion, bringing magic back, maybe that was never meant for the Once, but was always meant for the Future.

He was meant to die right from the start, no matter what anyone did or advised, this was how it was meant to go down. During that cold dawn at Camlann.

Isn't that beautiful?

#bbc merlin #merlin #it's very beautiful to me #i like tragedies #i think people miss how much nothing could be changed #that's why the Disir episode exists #that was the last chance for the Triple Goddess to change his fate #if he refused then yeah the original path continues - who knows what would have happened if he had accepted #would he grow to old age and die - leaving Merlin immortal and alone knowing that they succeed in something or other #or would merlin then become mortal #ideas to think about here :P

[shadowtriovibes]

‘til we get the healing done

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow × f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, mentions of blood and injury, explicit sexual content, fingering, unprotected PIV sex

Summary: post-hogwarts AU where reader/MC is a Healer at St. Mungo’s and Sebastian is a Gringotts Cursebreaker ✨ pretty much porn-with-little-plot, but mind the mentions of blood/injury!

“Wiggenweld ought to take care of this, for the most part,” you tell him. “You’ll probably still have a scar.”

“S’alright,” he murmurs. “You witches love wizards with scars, or so I’ve been told.”

You pointedly ignore his comment as you return to your potions cabinet to start assembling a salve.

It’s barely half past nine in the morning when one of your fellow Healers lets you know that you’ve been requested in the reception area.

“Already?” you smirk. “I haven’t even checked on the Dittany stores yet.”

“I’ll take care of it,” she says easily. “Your favorite patient is here, he’s insisting he won’t see anyone else and he’s bleeding all over the floor.”

Bleeding? Merlin.

You curse under your breath as you quickly make your way to the reception area, where a surly-looking Welcome Witch is scowling as Sebastian Sallow leans against one of fellow Cursebreakers for support. He’s drenched in blood, but mercifully he’s still standing.

“Morning, miss,” his coworker says politely. “Apologies for the mess.

You sigh wearily and wrap one arm around Sebastian’s waist so his companion can shift the deadweight of his body onto you.

“It’s not a problem,” you insist. “I can take him from here.”

“Tell them I’ll be right back,” Sebastian slurs tiredly. “She’ll fix me right up.”

“He will not be back today,” you insist sharply.

Sebastian’s coworker chuckles as he wipes his bloody palms against his pant legs. “I assumed as much. I promise, we’ll send him right home if he tries anyway.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I sincerely appreciate it.”

The older man pats Sebastian encouragingly on the shoulder before Apparating out of the lobby, and you motion for another Healer to assist you in walking him away from the gawkers lingering in the reception area once it becomes apparent that his left leg is entirely unusable.

“Mister Sallow,” you drawl as you slowly walk him back to one of the examination rooms on the trauma floor. “What in Merlin’s name have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Classified,” he insists, but you’re sure he’s just being cheeky.

Once you arrive, you and your coworker inelegantly wrangle him onto the sturdy wooden exam table in the middle of the room. He quickly lets himself out once you assure him you’re able to tend to Sebastian alone — you’re always swamped at St. Mungo’s, and you’re sure his assistance is needed elsewhere.

Sebastian, with that ever-present smirk still on his face, manages to hold himself up even as a slow stream of blood trickles down his calf.

“It’s good to see you too, by the way,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes as you pull the exam room door shut, casually turning the lock and pulling the privacy divider across the window. If Sebastian notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You look positively dreadful,” you tell him.

It’s not untrue. He’s several shades paler than usual and there’s blood smeared all across his chest where his shirt has been sliced to ribbons, and the left leg of his trousers is in a similarly poor state.

However, even what would otherwise be a mortal injury can’t tamper his good-natured expression, nor does it cause his warm brown eyes to sparkle any less when he sheepishly meets your gaze.

“I swear, this time it was not my fault,” he begins.

“You say that every time,” you remind him. “Eventually, I’m going to stop believing you.”

He laughs and then winces, pressing a hand to the deep laceration he must still be concealing beneath his shirt, given the bloodstains.

“Go on, Seb,” you sigh. “You know what I’m going to ask you.”

“Why, are you suggesting I should take off my robes?” he asks teasingly. “A bit forward of you, mind, but I’ll abide.”

“We’re well past modesty at this point,” you remind him.

Nevertheless, you turn your back — ostensibly to prepare a tonic for him — while he undoes the buttons of his shirt and gingerly pulls the tattered remnants of it away from his bloodied skin.

He makes a pained noise when he attempts to do the same with his trousers, so you quickly turn and rest a hand on his thigh.

“Let’s get you fixed up here first,” you offer softly, gesturing to the nasty-looking gash across his ribcage. “Then we’ll get to your leg.”

“You’re sure that I won’t bleed out in the meantime?” he asks, only half joking.

“I’m positive,” you say reassuringly. “But I’ll have you slowly sip this while I take a closer look.”

You pass him the glass of tonic and nudge his free arm to the side so you can dab at his injury. You’ve become quite used to seeing blood in your line of work, but something about seeing Sebastian take slow, careful breaths as you trace your fingertips over his broken skin makes your stomach lurch.

You’ve been practicing as a Healer at St. Mungo’s for several years now, and not a month goes by without Sebastian limping (or occasionally being hauled) into the reception with some sort of bizarre injury he’d earned as a Cursebreaker at Gringotts.

At first you’d worried after him. He’d always been a brilliant student, so you weren’t quite sure how he managed to harm himself so frequently without putting his employment in jeopardy. But eventually you learned that Sebastian was, in fact, an excellent Cursebreaker.

…He just also happens to be the most reckless.

When you glance up at him to check his face for any signs of pain, you catch him staring at you.

“Drink that,” you remind him, nodding at the dark-colored liquid in his glass. “You’ll feel better.”

Carefully, Sebastian lifts the glass to his lips and takes a small sip. Immediately he makes a face.

“That’s foul,” he sputters. “What is that?! It tastes like metal.”

“It’s a tonic for blood loss,” you explain with a wry smile. “It’s packed with iron. Trust me, you’re going to need it.”

He grumbles under his breath as he takes another sip. You wait for him to swallow before you press firmly against the wound — you’ve learned the hard way that neglecting to do so would result in your being sprayed with tonic.

“Wiggenweld ought to take care of this, for the most part,” you tell him. “You’ll probably still have a scar.”

“S’alright,” he murmurs. “You witches love wizards with scars, or so I’ve been told.”

You pointedly ignore his comment as you return to your potions cabinet to start assembling a salve.

“Anything else I should know about your wounds?” you ask him over your shoulder. “Nothing venomous or toxic to be concerned about?”

“No,” he says, pausing to exhale before admitting, “It’s from a dragon.”

You nearly drop your bottle of Wiggenweld. “A dragon?!”

“See, now, I knew you would be upset when I got around to telling you,” he says with a grin that looks more like a grimace.

“What were you doing with a dragon?” you demand. “They’re not supposed to be kept anywhere near you!”

You’ve heard quite a bit about the inner workings of Gringotts since Sebastian joined the Cursebreaking department. The two of you never did seem to be able to keep secrets from each other — ever since you were teenagers, you’ve been nothing but honest, sometimes to a fault.

(…Well. You suppose if you were truly being honest, you’d tell him that you can’t stand hearing about the witches he dates whenever he pays you a visit. But you don’t like to examine precisely why that is.)

“Like I said, it wasn’t my fault,” he insists. “They brought in a young one from Romania that’s still in training and it got loose.”

You tut under your breath and mix in your highest concentration of Wiggenweld with a basic topical salve. The scent of Dittany is strong, but you know it’ll do the trick.

“Suppose I’m lucky it was a small one,” he continues. “If it had been one of the fully-grown ones they keep down below, I’d be in a box by now.”

“Hush,” you murmur distractedly. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“No?” he teases. “I suppose you wouldn’t. I’m your only friend in London, you’d be hopeless getting on without me.”

You roll your eyes and return to the exam table with your salve.

“You are not my only friend,” you argue.

“Even so, I’m still your best friend,” he replies, nonplussed. “…What have you got there?”

“This is to close the wound,” you explain. “It will sting, so I’ll count to three and then I’ll go as fast as I can, alright?”

“You’re going to go on one just like you always do,” he sighs.

“Am I getting that predictable?” you ask coyly.

“Actually, ye— Merlin’s bloody beard!”

With no warning, you scoop up a glob of salve and start to paint over Sebastian’s jagged wound, the tips of your fingers glowing a soft, cool blue as you channel a bit of your magic into the gash in his side. Before your eyes the torn skin starts to knit closed. Like you suspected, the reformed skin is pink and tender as is any new scar, but at least it looks completely healed and not at risk for reopening when Sebastian inevitably goes right back to work tomorrow.

“You’re a menace,” he grits out. “Honestly, that was cruel.”

“Come off it, you’re fine,” you tease him. “And it’s always easier if you don’t see it coming.”

“For you,” he grumbles.

You trace your fingertips over his fresh scar a few times to confirm that you’ve fully covered the would in salve. You force yourself to remain professional, but it’s extremely hard not to get distracted by how much muscle he’s built up here in his core since your days at Hogwarts.

“Let’s let that sit while I have a look at your leg,” you eventually say. “Think you can lift your hips up for me?”

Sebastian leans back on his hands and lifts himself up so you can tug his shredded trousers off, letting them fall to the floor in a bloody, rumpled pile.

(Thank Merlin he hadn’t foregone undergarments today.)

“Oh, Seb,” you murmur.

His thigh is mangled. Three long, angry-looking slashes run from below his hip to just above his knee, each still wet with blood.

“It looks worse than it feels,” he says under his breath.

You sigh and reach for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Drink the rest of your tonic and I’ll patch you up,” you tell him. “…I’m glad you came to me. This is beyond what a typical Healer is equipped for, Sebastian.”

“I know,” he admits. “But you’re the only witch I’ll see regardless.”

You blush a bit and turn away, reaching for your pot of salve.

The two of you are both quiet while you work. Sebastian occasionally bites back a curse or a low groan while you work the salve into his wounds, forcing himself to chug the rest of his regenerative drink.

(…You feel horrifically guilty for how your body is reacting to his sounds.)

“How are you feeling?” you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It aches,” he tells you transparently. “But — but like it’s healing, not like it’s getting worse.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel, unfortunately,” you explain. “Even healing comes with its own set of aches.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware of that,” he mumbles. “Honestly, it reminds me of how I felt when Violet and I ended our courtship.”

“O-oh?” you stutter.

“Well, I suppose she’s the one who ended it,” he says with a wry grin. “She said she was sick and tired of me showing up on her doorstep with a new injury each week. I don’t blame her one bit.”

“Seb, that’s horrible,” you coo. “How heartless.”

You’re just finishing up applying salve to the last few centimeters of his wound when Sebastian gently tips your chin up so you’ll meet his gaze.

“Do you want to know what else she said to me?” he asks softly.

You swallow nervously and whisper, “What?”

“She said that it’s pathetic that I keep offering to put myself in harm’s way on the offchance I’ll get to visit my Healer,” he tells you.

His gaze dips down your mouth and you inhale sharply as he drags his thumb across your lower lip.

“That’s — that’s not true, is it?” you whimper.

“Of course it’s true,” he confesses. “The thought always crosses my mind. Whenever I offer to take a crack at opening a surrendered vault or unraveling a protective jinx on one of the new deposit boxes, I always think, ‘If I’m hurt, at least I’ll get to see you.’”

Suddenly you feel like you’re the one who’s lost several pints of blood — dizzy, flushed, not quite sure if you’re imagining all this or not.

“Sebastian,” you murmur. “…You have to promise me you’ll stop.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he admits earnestly, tilting his hand to gently cup your face and coax you into leaning closer. “It’s all I can think about anymore — the next time I get to see you, and feel your hands on me.”

Instinctively you reach out your hands to steady yourself, propping yourself up against the tops of his thighs.

“S-sorry,” you quickly stammer. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he breathes. “Just… come closer.”

He cups both hands around your jaw to bring your face to his, gently pressing his lips against yours.

“Seb,” you breathe against his mouth.

“We should’ve done this so long ago,” he murmurs. “Please, love. Say you feel the same way.”

“I… Sebastian, of course I do, but—”

He hauls you against his chest before you can even steady yourself. You’re thankful your work on his wounds seems to be holding steady as you shamelessly climb into his lap, testing the support limits of the wooden examination table.

“Let me touch you,” he whines against your mouth. “I need it, I need to feel you.”

All this time, it’s always been your hands on him — pressing closed his wounds, extracting nauseating curses and beastly venom from his body, infusing your unique magic with traditional Healing techniques to restore him to himself.

Now he’s begging to put his hands on you, and you find yourself powerless to resist.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Anywhere, just — touch me.”

He desperately tugs on your unflattering lime green robes until they fall to the floor until you’re left with just your fitted blouse and skirt. As far as propriety goes, you’ve never been this underdressed in one of your exam rooms.

“Take this off,” he growls, bunching up a handful of your blouse in his fist.

“We — we shouldn’t do this here,” you weakly protest.

“No one’s going to come in,” Sebastian counters. “We have all the privacy we need.”

(Damn him, now you’re positive that he’d seen you lock the door.)

“I �� I shouldn’t,” you whisper.

Sebastian leans in and presses his teeth against your neck.

“How long have we already made ourselves wait?” he reminds you in a low voice. “I could’ve died today and we never would have had the chance.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine. “You’ve been hauled into St. Mungo’s on death’s door a dozen times, it doesn’t mean we should have sex at my place of work.”

“Love,” he croons, and you feel all your resolve melt away.

With a frustrated groan, you hastily tug your blouse free from your skirt and wrestle with the buttons while Sebastian unhelpfully runs his hands all across your body.

Once you’re rid of your shirt, you tug your skirt up so he can slide a hand between your thighs.

“Gods, yes,” he moans. “This is what I’ve been wanting, darling. I needed to feel you right here.”

You whimper softly as he grinds the heel of his palm against your aching core.

“Can I go inside?” he asks softly, and you aren’t sure if he’s merely asking to move your panties aside or if he’s suggesting something more, but either way the answer is a fervent yes.

With one deft hand he tugs the soaked fabric between your thighs to one side and traces two fingertips along your slit. You’re scandalously wet already, just from his ardent confession and his eager hands on your body.

Then Sebastian easily presses those two fingers inside you and you hunch in toward him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“That’s it,” he whispers in your ear. “How does that feel?”

“G-good,” you stutter.

“Just good, hmm?” he inquires. “Should I give you more, then? I need you to feel great.”

It’s no surprise that Sebastian would be a skilled lover, but what really has you trembling in need in his lap is how clearly he wants to make you feel loved, and not just serviced himself.

You can tell that this gets him off; that tonic of yours has certainly done its job, if the rigid hardness between his thighs is any indication.

“I w-want you,” you manage to force out. “Quickly, I just — I don’t care if it’s rushed, I need you inside.”

Sebastian curses against the hinge of your jaw and carefully extracts his hand from between your thighs so he can pull his cock out of his undergarments, stroking himself with his still-wet hand.

“Like this?” he asks you. “I don’t know if I’ve got the energy for much else.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Just… let me.”

Now that you can properly see him, you realize he’s, er, gifted, and he’ll be a lot to take in this position. But you want him, you want to make him feel good just as badly as he wants the same for you, so you steady yourself as best as you can on your knees as you hover over him. With one hand you keep your panties pulled to the side and your skirt tucked away, and with the other you hold him steady as you sink down.

“Gods,” you whine. “I — I can barely…”

It’s nearly impossible to get the leverage you need on a table this narrow. As you take him in, you feel driven through, practically impaled by him as you cling desperately to his shoulders.

“Go on,” he grunts. “Take me, love, you can.”

“I can’t,” you nearly sob.

But then you realize you’ve done it. The insides of your thighs are flush with the tops of his, the remaining traces of salve on his skin making it all too easy for you to grind forward until you’re completely seated on top of him.

“That’s it,” he groans. “You’ve got it, you’ve taken me so well.”

It’s shameful how little praise from Sebastian makes you squirm and keen in his lap like a simpering fool.

He leans in close to your ear and asks you, “Do you think you can ride me?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper. “Yes, I want to.”

As soon as you start to move, the filthily wet sounds of your skin smacking against his makes you blush all the way down to your chest. It’s lewd and raunchy in a way you’ve never felt with any man with whom you’ve been intimate.

(Those men weren’t Sebastian, you think helplessly.)

“Fuck,” Sebastian growls in your ear. “Don’t stop, please, love.”

There’s absolutely nothing that would stop you now, you think. The Minister of Magic himself could come in and fire you on the spot and it simply wouldn’t matter. You feel incredible — it’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this, and never by a man who you’ve truly loved like Sebastian.

He seems similarly overwhelmed, his hands mindlessly traveling over your waist, your breasts, and even up to your face so he can pull you down and messily kiss you into delirium.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please, please…”

“What?” he pants. “Anything, love, tell me.”

“Touch me,” you plead, and then his hand is between your legs right where you need it. His thumb grinds against that sensitive spot that brings you to the edge, over and over in tight, determined circles until you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to dampen the desperate sounds you let out as you climax.

“Perfect,” he breathes. “That’s — you’re perfect, fuck.”

Sebastian’s undoubtedly weakened and exhausted, but he nevertheless manages to find the energy to grind up into your wrung-out, languid body until he finds his release. He stays buried inside you afterward, fighting through his sensitivity to keep you close and murmur soft words of praise into your hair.

When you finally summon the strength to climb off of him and tug your skirt back into place, you mumble, “We cannot let this happen again.”

“Just at St. Mungo’s, right?” he asks with a suggestive smirk. “Because I, for one, would very much like it to happen again.”

You say nothing as you button up your shirt, but you eventually allow yourself to be pulled into a slow, fervent kiss that lets him know he’ll be getting his way.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #healer au #cursebreaker au #formatting this was a NIGHTMARE bc i only have my phone with me #pray for me also it’s obviously extremely unbeta’d so i hope it’s coherent #my fic

[himbo-aficionado]

I just think its interesting how at the very end of the story, we see Merlin walking past Avalon, the place where he sent off Arthur all those centuries ago. There are many different ways the scene could've went on to display his everlasting loyalty. It easily could've been a scene where maybe Merlin was with his wife and a kid who was named after Arthur, or he became a historian/scholar who kept the Arthurian legends alive after everything he went through or maybe even a physicist trying to build a time machine, find a loop in time to go back and fix the past.

But no.

We see him all alone, old and unequivocally miserable. No longer meddling with fate nor trying anything at all. Lost in a world beyond time that no man should live past or would even be able to comprehend. We see that he never moved on from Arthur, having somewhat a glimmer of hope deep within him. Nobody speaks about how insanely difficult it must have been to have hope especially when you have no end to your own life. As mortals, we can't even bear grief for a short period of time. Yet, Merlin lived the cursed life of an immortal, a life where he will only keep losing everyone he's ever loved. A life full of grief.

In the modern world shown, nobody even believes in magic or practises it and yet he...still believes that someday Arthur will return to him. In the past, he reiterates that he just wants Arthur to see that everything he does is for him. He tells Hunith that Arthur only likes him because he doesn't know him. We see he acknowledges that Arthur is doing acts of service because he likes him yet Merlin couldn't be satiated because he still wasn't his true self to Arthur. To be seen and known for who you truly are is to be loved, that is all he ever wanted from Arthur, even from the very beginning of their relationship.

"You never once sought any credit"

"Its not why I do it"

During the magic reveal, he said "I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.", still desperately wanting it to be known that his entire life was devoted to Arthur. There was no talk about legalising magic and whatnot between them either after that. He only kept repeating that he was born to serve Arthur. We see in real time just how much he meant when he said "There will never be another like you, Arthur." Evidently, he meant that Arthur is the Once and Future King but it also plays out for Merlin, because there never was anyone like Arthur in his life after that. To the point where he could find no purpose upon losing Arthur.

And yes he keeps saying that its his destiny to be Arthur's servant, that he grew up and learned the meaning of duty but is that really all it is? Towards the end, it was apparent that Merlin's objective was no longer for magic to be accepted in Camelot (as much as he wanted it). Ever since he found out about Arthur's Bane, it was all about keeping him alive. Even when the great dragon told him that there is nothing he could do anymore, Merlin could not accept to lose Arthur. "I can't lose him, he's my friend." It didn't matter that magic isn't legal yet in Camelot. He could not give two fucks about it anymore or else we would've seen magic in the future scene. One can assume that he completely stopped trying to find a solution. Or even lost the will to live.

What I'm trying to say is that, the final scene really is more than just an epilogue to show his loyalty, immortality and despair. If you think about it for a moment, it shows that somewhere along all the fights, snide remarks, banter, and what he and Arthur think isn't exactly a friendship, - they're stupid, don't mind that - he was in love with Arthur. And Arthur loved him in return even in the face of death as the truth came crumbling down. Its not as simple as 'falling in love' because, I don't think Merlin woke up one day and realised that he was inconveniently in love with the idiot arrogant prince who was tied to him by fate.

Their love was inevitable but it definitely stopped becoming destiny and duty a long time ago, it became a choice. "I'm happy to be your servant till the day I die". Merlin was, and I quote "putting up" with Arthur not because it was his life sentence to do so; it was because he wanted to. The worst thing of all is: Merlin chose to do it for the rest of his life.

#didn't mean to ramble like that my bad #i was thinking #i will not do it again #merthur brainrot is real #warn ur friends #walk with me #today i will wear my white button down #merthur #bbcmerlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merthur

[dollopheadedmerlin]

Thinking about a Merlin fic I don't wanna write about Merlin saving Arthur in the final episode and everything gets better, Albion is united, magic is free, and Merlin and Arthur mend their friendship.

But then Merlin starts to feel uneasy, then tired, then exhausted. He falls ill easily. He takes longer to recover from injuries. He is more easily scared.

So, he reaches out to the dragon, to ask him what's wrong and, miraculously, Kilgharrah answers, still visibly at the end of his rope but able to offer one final cryptic response.

He reveals that Merlin fulfilled his destiny, and not in the way the gods expected.

When Merlin asks what he means, Kilgharrah gifts him the knowledge of the canon events of the show, the most likely outcome of the future and what Kilgharrah had been basing his advice around all these years. Merlin is frightened by what he sees but relieved that it was not what truly happened.

Then, Kilgharrah explains that, because Arthur lived, Merlin was no longer needed to wait for him, and so his immortality was taken away, the prophecy being fulfilled ahead of schedule.

Merlin, having not even realized he has been immortal in the first place, has a lot to process. But, more importantly, when he returns home, he has to learn to take care of himself better.

Because what's happening to him isn't some mysterious illness or curse, it's just his body and mind reacting normally to all he's suffered through over the years. He can't force himself to stay up days on end anymore. His old wounds smart like they never had before. His body must heal from things naturally, and it takes so much more time and energy.

At first he is frustrated, because it becomes much more difficult to protect Arthur. But Arthur has other mages on his side now, and he lives! He's alive!

And Merlin lays awake some nights and thinks of the loneliness and loss he would have suffered if he hadn't regained his mortality, and he thinks, that maybe he can learn to take things a bit easier and enjoy what he has. Other people live with this ache, and Arthur is one of them. He can feel the same aging because of that.

#mine #merlin

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

The story of how Mordred called Merlin mom and then proceeded to call Arthur dad and now he's adopted into the family

Author: Me aka @dalazygamerneko

Inspired by @tongjaitongjai merthur idea, check out it out here: 🐓x🐦=🐣

♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤

It was ordinary day. Birds were singing, training went well and the maids were busy but happily chatting.

Nothing could go wrong Mordred thought as he made his way to the afternoon roundtable meeting when he came across Merlin or Emrys as he is known amongst druids, quickly he hid into an alcove and gazed in envy at Lord Emrys, no, Merlin smiling and holding a little boy in his arms.

It's moments like these that he wished he knew his mother longer but he could barely remember her. He watched quietly at the soft look in Merlin's eyes and utter joy upon the little boy's face as they hugged each other, Mordred wondered if his mother would've looked at him the same way Merlin did.

He sighed, leaning back against the stone walls Mordred couldn't help but want to revert back into being a child again just so Merlin wouldn't gaze coldly at him, albeit he probably deserved it for the words of hatred he said in his youth. He knew now Merlin never meant to lead those knights towards his camp. That the warlock was only trying to help Morgana.

"What can I do to earn your trust?"

Mordred shook his head, he'd think of something maybe ask one of the knights for help? He's noticed that Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine are closer to Merlin than the other knights.

'They're also the most protective of him' Mordred thought dryly, a crease upon his brow as multiple ideas popped into his mind and many he shot down knowing it won't work.

"Well, I'll just have to hope the triple Goddess guides me." Mordred mumbled, he looked out into the hallway, Merlin was gone, most likely doing chores for the King.

Mordred chuckled as he continued walking, he would never understand the relationship Emrys and the once and future King had with each other. There were times they seem like close comrades begrudging in their respect for one another and then other times they would argue fondly like any old married couple.

Not surprising when plenty of townsfolk as well as even the nobles have speculated in the past if Merlin was being courted by Prince Arthur, to any outsider it certainly looked that way therefore Merlin was given the "mistress" treatment.

Now everyone are wondering(more like waiting impatiently) when will the King announce his engagement to Merlin.

"If I remember correctly, doesn't Sir Gwaine have a bet going on?"

Mordred pondered. 'Yeah, I'll definitely join in. There's no way they're NOT together. I mean, I've seen the lingering stares they give each other as if there is no one around them.'

Soon he was at the doors leading to the roundtable meeting, nodding at the vigilant guards they let him through. His eyes slowly moved over the knights, nobles and some commoners before landing on Merlin who was standing behind the King's chair.

An unassuming figure, most often underestimated but to those who know magic deeply or follow the old religion, Emrys entire being is a vast ocean of wild magic swirling in such a magnitude that no mere mortal could ever understand or harness the power Emrys wields.

Then he locked eyes with Merlin, there is no icy stare thankfully, yet he can still see a hint of wariness in his Lord's gaze.

He bowed his head in acknowledgement before finding a seat next to the gossiping pair Sir Percival and Sir Gwaine.

"I could be at a tavern right now, drinking and charming the barmaid Stella instead I'm stuck here." Gwaine said with a miffed face, his hand gripping the air imagining he was holding a mug of ale.

Elyan who sat across from Gwaine raised an eyebrow, "Isn't Stella old enough to be your grandmother?"

Gwaine smirked whilst shrugging. "Just like wine the older one gets the finer they become, besides she has experience, I'm sure there's a thing or two she could still teach mmph—"

Leon had reached over to clamp Gwaine's mouth shut.

The ginger haired knight had just about enough of hearing Gwaine's tavern tales of debauchery to which he thought was an inappropriate topic to be discussed or heard at the roundtable meeting.

"Sir Gwaine, leave your nightly talks at the tavern only, please."

Gwaine pulled Leon's hand away and smiled cheekily at the older knight.

"Oh, but wouldn't you like to know? Stella has mentioned she likes ginger haired men with beards and I bet she could show you—"

"I am going to strangle you—"

Gwaine leaned back avoiding Leon's hands from trying to keep him quiet again.

"Sir Leon I never knew you were this kinky, I think dear old Stella would like to feel your big strong hands—ack!"

Leon finally got him, unfortunately the meeting was starting, so Gwaine was safe from being throttled by him. However, tomorrow morning during training he'll get his chance.

Mordred along with the rest of the knights chuckled at Sir Gwaine's antics and Sir Leon's annoyed expression.

♤To be continued♤

#forgive me it's still incomplete lol #merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #arthur x merlin #merlin x arthur #bbc arthur #bbc mordred #mordred #the knights of the round table #the knights of camelot #fanfic #cinnabon sweetroll tiramisu #canon au #sir gwaine #sir leon the long suffering #sir percival #sir elyan #sir lancelot #mom!merlin #dad!arthur #son!mordred

[prue84]

Siblings socials: The beast's lair

Fandom: BBC’s Merlin (post-canon, modern magic) AU AU: The Pendragon siblings return (sequel: modern magic) Series: Siblings socials — [ Reblogs > Likes | No AI involved ] —

You thought Arthur, being a former king, would always be the master in any couple or pairing? Well, think better. Morgana is more than willing to prove the world that is Merlin the serval who commands between the two.

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Morgana, the famed once Queen of Camelot and socials star, has taken her duties of chronicling her brother Arthur's adjusting to the modern world very seriously. If she has a chance to humiliate him, in face of the legendary epitome of noble warrior built around him during the centuries, she will do it gladly, not even hiding a smirking during the whole time. As socials love cats, who is she to deprive the socials from pics of Merlin the grumpy serval? The fact that Arthur is sleeping in an idiotic pose on the background is just a bonus point.

More about the AU under the cut. (More fanworks from this AU at the links above) (More fanworks about the prequel here)

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About the AU The story is a sequel to the The Pendragon Sibling. Eventually, the druid give the royal couple a serval as gift for their renowned peace between the throne and the magic people. The servan turns out to be a very magical boy. At the same time Morgana acquires a puma, who happens to be the disguise of an High Priestess. I elaborated a bit here. * Not even the union of the Pendragon siblings, as King of Lands and Queen of Avalon and royal couple ruling over Camelot, with Morgause the High Priestesses of the old religion and Emrys the immortal dragonlord as their shadows and mates, is enough to prevent Arthurs tragic end at Camlann at the hands of the traitor Mordred. After Camlann, Merlin withdraws in his own pain, while Queen Morgana rules wisely for the next decades, assuring that the golden age of Camelot continues. When the time to retire from the mortal life comes, Morgana, with her loyal companion Morgause and Merlin, retires on the island at the center of the lake Avalon, taking residence in the tower standing there. Centuries pass, between long sleeps and new lives in the world outside. But magic, for a series or undisclosed circumstances, have been slowly fading in the lands outside of Avalon since the Siblings balance was lost with the death of Arthur. The more they are away from the island, center of the Old Magic, the more the contact is faint, and both Morgause and Merlin feel the need to stay in their animal forms. Until magic is so weak that they are stuck in their animal form even when staying at the tower. In the 21th century Morgana is following an academic career. Every morning, during breakfast, she keeps the tv on to make some background sounds. One morning the BBC's morning program suddenly switches to a live from the town of Avalon, for news about some odd happenings at the lake. The country wonders if this is the day when King Arthur will finally raise. There has been many false alarm. This morning is different, though. Morgana, with her two felines, rushes to the lake through magic and is there to see Arthur emerge from the waters. Merlin, a one-century-and-half ancient serval, attacks everyone present, Arthur included, and Arthur himself is forced to draw Excalibur to suffuse the situation, before his sister is arrested and his feline mate put down as the rabid cat he is. After the necessary time to familiarize with a world that is completely different from the one he remembers, Morgana introduces Arthur to the marvels of the socials and together they become Twitter stars, entertaining people with their commentaries on Arthurian-related productions and their bickering. Between Morgana's interviews and bits shared by Arthur on socials, the world is revealed that the Matter of Britain is mostly made of lies and exaggerations. BBC reaches out to Morgana to collaborate to write a series that would tell the true story of the Pendragons. Morgana launches herself in the project with eagerness. As the search for a proper location to set Camelot is about to start, Morgana hints that she might has the original castle miniaturized and preserved by magic and she would be amenable to make available as set, as long as the production covers the costs of restoration. Thus the Pendragons get their old nest back restored to its golden days free of charge, and Arthur can return to live in his natural habitat. Eventually, the true identity and nature of the felines, believed to be just animals given immortality by magic and relics of the golden age of Camelot, will be revealed, But that's another story for another time.

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Notes Initially, this - the original screencap minus the serval - was supposed to be an Instagram-mock shared by the Merlin of the National Treasure instagram AU, but I didn't have the text ready and was thus stuck since 2018. Some months ago I decided to switch the poster from Merlin to the Morgana of this AU. It made no sense for Morgana to share a pic of her sleeping brother without Merlin the serval around, so the idea of putting a serval on the bed came. Tec stuffs (aka Behind The Manip) A nightmare. I couldn't find a serval pic that fit with the perspective required. And when I did, they came with dark shadows on their legs I couldn't fix. So I had to use the blankets to mask here and there, which came with another challenge on its own. Instagram graphic made all by-hand, with much moving/copy/pasting and, especially, a wearying research to find out which font the website used. No template site. Since I created my own template, it won't reflect any future changes the platform might make (I have no intention of modify my template).

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Crossposted: Livejournal: prue84.livejournal.com/103011.html Dreamwidth: prue84.dreamwidth.org/94038.html Deviantart: deviantart.com/prue84/art/The-beast-s-lair-instagram-1015696733 (instagram post), deviantart.com/prue84/art/The-beast-s-lair-photo-1-1015696691 (photo 1), deviantart.com/prue84/art/The-beast-s-lair-photo-2-1015696758 (photo 2)

#Merlin BBC #Morgana #Merlin #Arthur Pendragon #Merthur #AUs (Merlin) #AU: The Pendragon Siblings return #Series: Siblings socials #Manips #Graphics #|| #bbc merlin #emrys #merlin-art #merlin fanart

[albentelisa]

Hi. So you remember the Lady of the Lake, right? Well, what if she had managed to disguise herself as a mortal woman?

That human form she took on is non other Barabra Lake, thus already making Jim half human.

When he gets the amulet in this AU, he knows his mom hates Merlin, so he doesn't tell her at first.

Oh, in this AU Bular is definitely not the only one sent flying. Merlin will get that honor for sure as well. James Lake Sr. too, I guess. And maybe even Strickler (if he ever tries something dumb, LOL).

Jokes aside, I'll say that James Lake Sr is the one responsible for Barbara's disguise. My headcanon is that Nimue can grant wishes, but she chooses to grant those only if someone voices their deepest desires (as she hates hypocrites). So, one day James amid his travel to Britain, somehow wandered into the Nimue's current abode and voiced his wish to meet his perfect woman (he was just fooling around and had no idea that it would be granted). Nimue assumed a mortal woman's form of Barbara appearing right before him. Just to say, their relationship didn't work because there never was any true love between the two of them.

Nimue would prefer to return to her old life after the breakup, but she stays with humans because it's something Jim genuinely desires. And honestly, his wish is the one she is actually happy to grant.

As for Jim in this AU, he knows a bit about his mom, but definitely not everything. Like, he's aware that Barbara is inhuman and even caught a glimpse of her monstrous form once (it's an experience he'd rather forget) and that she dislikes Merlin for some reason (Barbara never told her son about her imprisonment, so Jim is entirely unaware how serious that hatred is).

Jim inherited his mom's abilities but cannot use those as he was traumatized after seeing Barbara's inhuman form and is scared to turn into something similar so he subconsciously seals those.

Why Barbara never learns about Jim finding the amulet despite being able to read souls? Well, she refuses to read Jim's soul, respecting his privacy, and because she knows that Jim doesn't lie or hide things from her (well, he DID before the amulet).

However, Barbara read Strickler's soul. She knows he's inhuman, but well, he has no ill intent towards Jim. And Jim's plan to keep things secret from his mom flies out of the window because she also learns about Strickler's desire to get the amulet from her son.

Barbara is pissed (to put it mildly) that Merlin's amulet chose her son. For her, it's like the hateful wizard's trying to control Jim (like he did with her). However, soon she realizes that Jim wants to be a hero himself and vows to support him. She tinkers with the amulet though as she believes that her son should fight for his own ideals, not her former tormentor's glory.

Barbara becomes a team member, but her abilities are limited (because it's either keeping her human form or regaining her full powers). She isn't ready to drop her human disguise though because of Jim (as she is scared he won't be able to see her as his mother anymore).

Strickler changes the sides pretty fast because Barbara sees that his true desire is the liberating changelings and encounters him about it. The same goes for Nomura. Strickler tries to recruit Otto too, but he is too scared to betray Gunmar. Otto is also the one who frees Angor Rot here, hoping to use him as a bodyguard from both Jim's team and Bular (who is pretty much enraged after the two changelings desert).

NotEnrique gets planted into Claire's family (as well as some other changelings are transferred as the Janus Order has a shortage of manpower now).

Jim still encounters a stalking, and to defeat it he unwittingly goes full monster form which terrifies him to his core. He starts questioning whether he has any right to be with his friends. Toby tells him that it doesn't matter.

Much like in the canon, Claire snoops around and learns Jim's secret about the trollhunting. She joins the team before they learn about NotEnrique, so the eventual reveal hits her the most. Claire tries to find the Killahead alone to travel to the Darklands, and she locates it but gets kidnapped by Angor Rot. Otto uses her as a hostage to get the amulet from Jim.

During the Battle of Two Bridges, Claire manages to wrestle the shadow staff from Angor, Otto and Angor escape, and Bular is sucked into the Darklands (getting his wish to reunite with his father).

Now the only thing remaining is to save Enrique, but it meets more opposition at the Trollmarket as there is a risk to unseal both Gunmar and Bular. Even Strickler thinks it's unreasonable.

Meanwhile, Otto tries to get the bridge back. He still hopes to get Gunmar's trust back. He exploits Angor for that and sends assassins from the Order after different members of Jim's team.

Angor makes a deal with Jim and gets free eventually.

However, Jim goes to the Darklands alone in this AU as he feels guilty because many of his teammates have some injuries after the Janus Order's non-stop attacks.

In the Darklands, Jim notices that something is wrong with him. Apparently, the constant sense of danger makes his inhuman half resurface. So far those are partial transformations that he can reverse but those might get worse. At some point, he stumbles upon Bular who is exiled after his failure. They fight initially but make a truce as Bular is lost and has no idea what to do now.

Together they locate the nursery and save Enrique. Jim plans to bring Bular along with him to the surface and give him a second chance, but they only manage to get Enrique as the bridge is destroyed (and it's only partially Usurna's fault as the guards see Bular walking along with Jim and misunderstand everything).

Barbara is enraged, especially after reading Usurna's true intentions in her soul. Alas, most of the Tribunal doesn't believe her accusations (Vendel and Blinky are the only ones aware of her true identity), and both Vendel and Blinky are accused of treachery and conspiring with Gunmar. The rest of the team escapes and then they are divided into two teams to jailbreak Blinky and Vendel and to recover the Bridge.

Barbara manages to force open the passway to the Darklands (as she had altered the amulet before so she has some control over its abilities now) and the team goes to the Darklands searching for Jim. The fight against Gunmar happens there and Jim defeats him with the help of his team. Bular decides to stay in the Darklands and rebuild the Gumm-Gumm kingdom, but this time make it a better place for other trolls.

However, the victory is soured by the fact that the entire team is considered criminals at the Trollmarket now as Usurna has seized control. She also makes a pact with Otto, who wants to liberate Morgana. Otto steals the amulet from Jim and destroys it to get a map to Merlin's tomb. Initially, Trollhunters have no idea why Otto did it, deciding it was just a revenge plan.

Otto wakes up Merlin by accident but still gets his staff and escapes. Merlin gets out and after some misfortunes finds Douxie and they go to contact Trollhunters. Obviously, Barbara isn't happy. She isn't going to help Merlin but begrudgingly agrees when Douxie and Jim ask her.

Meanwhile, Usurna and Otto free Morgana and get some powers from her. Morgana feels that those two are better for her plans than Gunmar as neither of them would risk opposing her. She also unites forces with Morando.

Jim's team learns about Aja and Krel's secret and all of them realize that their enemies work as the united forces now. The decisive clash happens and the good guys come victorious. The Trollmarket finally is free and Jim's team can go there without any complications.

Merlin isn't happy though as it seems that he anticipates something bad to happen. Not that anyone is interested in listening to his thoughts, especially Barbara who would rather send him flying somewhere.

Some time passes, and Barbara has a visit from Bellroc who proposes a truce to eradicate humanity (as the Arcane Order is sure that Nimue is as pissed about magical creatures' oppression as they are). They are surprised when she refuses.

The Arcane Order still needs Nimue's power so the Green Knight kidnaps Jim, and the Order tries to force his latent abilities out. They also attack the flying castle in the hope of capturing Nari too. Douxie, Claire, Steve, and Toby end in the past. Claire is the one who gets in prison, though as she carelessly uses her magic before Arthur and his knights. Morgana breaks her out together with all the trolls.

While visiting Nimue in the past, the team finally gets why Barbara hates Merlin that much in the present. Nimue also sees that Claire's hidden desire is to liberate Jim from the Arcane Order's control (even though she has no idea who Jim is) and during the parting she gives her a hint that Jim should snap out of it himself.

When the team is back to the present, they are forced to face the Arcane Order, Green Knight, and Jim who lost his human form entirely and pretty much berserk at the moment as he isn't familiar with his new form and all new sensations attached.

Merlin (being Merlin) suggests capturing and sealing Jim somewhere. Luckily for him, Barbara hasn't heard that. Claire is pissed though. She tries to get to Jim and reach his mind, and nearly succeeds but is forced to retreat as the Arcane Order interrupts her.

Meanwhile, Green Knight finds and kills Merlin while seizing his staff (as Jim has learned where the seals are hidden and told the Order about those). Now Bellroc and Skrael only need to capture Nari.

Claire makes an attempt to reach Jim through the Shadow realm. She meets Morgana there (Morgana was sealed there after her defeat and still isn't liberated) and tries to reason with her (Claire wasn't possessed by Morgana in this AU, so she is more open-minded about it). They both try to find Jim's soul and see that he is scared, confused, and lost. This time Claire manages to reach him and ensure that no one is scared of his monstrous form. It helps Jim to regain control and turn human once again.

#tales of arcadia #toa #toa au #what if scenario #barbara is nimue here #jim lake jr #barbara lake #text post #ask box #anon ask

[tansyuduri]

Hello I decided to ask opinions on a bit of how my WIP Merther Longfic will go! (spoilers but please help)

So its a merther fanfic that takes place post arther's return and one of the things it adresses is Merlin being immortal and Arthur not, But we need a happy ending! SOOO Arthur needs to be imortal. We have a few options First of all Arthur could be all along! (or when he gets back) not sure I really like this one! Edit freind has suggusted somthing hella cool so adding it to this "Picking immortal arthur under the explanation that he was created from magic and didn't come into the world naturally. Therefore, he wouldn't have a natural death, and only a non-mortal blade could put him down (dragon-forged blade). Then, Avalon spat him back out once he was done cookin." (Obviously this would be the all along route) The second option and the one most people have liked so far is imortal leon showing up at the ending being like "I lived a good life was happy but Don't want to be importal anymore you take it arthur" (this is the one I'm leaning toword!) Another possability is arthur becomes a keeper a bit like the Keeper of the bridge and the Keeper of the unicorns Not so sure what he would even be a Keeper of! I dunwant him tied to one place! But I do have some interesting ideas for this!!! OR if you have another idea message me SO thoughts? I can't promise to follow the poll (My mind might go in one direction) but I wanted to get peoples oipinions!

#merthur #bbc merlin #fanfic writing

[librathefangirl]

Sticks and Stones Won't Break My Bones (As Long as You Are Here)

ao3 (Chapter 1/1; 2.1k+)

When Meliodas came to, it was with a pounding head. He couldn’t remember how exactly he had ended up here, but he was fairly certain this hadn’t been part of the plan. There was a faint ringing in his ears accompanying the pounding in his head, making him let out a groan as he tried to move his head. Almost immediately, a hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing and pushing at the same time. It offered comfort while also keeping firmly on the ground, unable to get up. Whumptober Day 1: “How many fingers am I holding up?”

WHUMPTOBER IS HERE!! yay :) Not sure how many of these I'll manage to write, but there will be some at least.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

When Meliodas came to, it was with a pounding head — and not just a mild pounding. No, it felt like there was a wind chime of pain inside his head. Even the smallest thought sent it cascading throughout his head. He couldn’t remember how exactly he had ended up here, but he was fairly certain this hadn’t been part of the plan. Normally, Meliodas was better at improvising. There was a faint ringing in his ears accompanying the pounding in his head, making him let out a groan as he tried to move his head. ow…

Almost immediately, a hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing and pushing at the same time. It offered comfort while also keeping firmly on the ground, unable to get up. There was no gauntlet on the hand. He could feel the warmth of skin across his own exposed – wait, why was his shoulder exposed? There was tension in the hand as well; the fingers dug a little too tightly into the back of his shoulder, and the thumb rubbing across his collarbone did so while jerking movements.

Meliodas knew this hand.

“–mmhff ,” he tried to open his eyes, longing to see the face he knew belonged to it. Though, as he did, he was assaulted by the sun in his face. Another groan slipped past his lips. The sound vibrated through his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut again. He buried his face under his hands – since when was the sun that bright? It suddenly felt like the pounding chime in his head was about to break out of his skull.

“Hey, it’s okay, try again,” a gentle encouragement taut with worry spoke somewhere from his left. Liz! Okay, screw the sun. He wanted – needed – to see her face now. He wanted to watch that worry disappear from her eyes and tension bleed away from her hand as he told her he was fine. She worried about him a lot. Meliodas knew that, even if she didn’t always say it explicitly. She worried about him unnecessarily much – but that in itself had become a bit of a comfort. She worried because she saw him as just as mortal as the rest of them. She thought him killable; more easily defeated than he was. Truthfully, it was a little hurtful to his pride. Then again, today was probably not doing him any favors regarding that.

When Meliodas tried opening his eyes again, in slower more careful blinks, something had shifted. The sun was now blocked from his view, giving a less stabbing light for his eyes to adjust to. A blurry hand entered his field of vision before he could try to find Liz’s face.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” another familiar voice asked. Huh…? Was that Merlin? Why was she here?

Meliodas resisted the urge to roll his eyes – this was unwarranted, he was fine… -ish . He figured just answering her would be the fastest way to get Merlin to back off. The problem with that, however, was that Meliodas didn’t know how to answer the question without making them worry more. He could see fingers extending from the hand, but every time he tried to count them, he failed. The digits kept swaying in and out of each other, the hand going from one solid hand to two or three overlapping hands and then back again. The truth was not an option. If he answered honestly, he would not be getting off this ground anytime soon.

So, instead, Meliodas pushed away Merlin’s hand and sat up; “Don’t be so dramatic, kiddo.”

He didn’t have time to see if Merlin reacted to the old nickname slipping out or not because as soon as the words had left his mouth, the world started tilting. His arm gave out and he probably would have given himself – another? – concussion if Liz had caught him. Once more Meliodas was forced to squeeze his eyes shut. This was not helping him convince them he was fine, but neither would throwing up.

As the world spun around him, Meliodas felt Liz shift her position. She sat down beside him, resting his head in her lap. One of her hands made its way to his forehead, brushing his hair back slowly and soothingly. This could have been bliss – headache and nausea aside. Meliodas chanced his eyes open, meeting Liz’ gaze. She was glaring at him; worry poorly hidden behind the anger in her eyes. There was a scratch across her cheek, just deep enough to pull a few droplets of blood out. Otherwise, she seemed unharmed. A bit dirty and disheveled, but unharmed. Meliodas relaxed into her lap, feeling tension he hadn’t even been aware of slipping away. He always hated leaving Elizabeth on her own, especially when it wasn’t by choice. Sure, this had only been for a few moments of unconsciousness, and Liz could very well hold her own in a fight, but… No matter her skills, she still held the fragility of a human. Meliodas wasn’t sure he could handle watching her die. Not again…

A displeased sound pulled his attention over to Merlin. She looked wholly unimpressed as she, too, glared at him. Her worry was a lot milder, of course, and her annoyance a lot bigger than Liz’s anger. Oh, right. Now Meliodas was starting to remember. The accusation of recklessness in Merlin’s raised eyebrow jiggled loose the memories through the fog that had overtaken his mind. They had been on a mission, him, Liz, and the other Holy Knights. It hadn’t really been anything out of the ordinary. Then someone had managed to snuck up behind Liz. So, Meliodas had acted. A bit recklessly perhaps, but nothing he wouldn’t do again given the chance. Merlin knew this too, he supposed, or otherwise, she wouldn’t be giving him that look.

“You are an idiot!” Liz scolded him. Meliodas met her glare again, giving her as good of a shrug as he could from his current position. She wasn’t wrong, necessarily.

“Worth it,” he told her. Then, with the fog easing from his mind, another thought suddenly hit him. “Wait… why are you here, Merlin?”

Last he was aware, she had been in Danafor. Meliodas looked around them – thankful that the spinning had come to a stop. Just like he suspected, they were still in the forest of the attack, a good bit away from Danafor. The rest of the Holy Knights seemed to be gone. It was only the three of them here.

“I needed a fresh specimen,” Merlin explained casually and showcased the jar held in her hand, which – yeah, no, Meliodas was not about to get involved in that business. He had been grateful, if he was completely honest, when Merlin had gotten distracted by a new experiment the last few days. As much as he was glad to see her and have someone who knew to talk with, he had needed the reprieve from their failed discussions of how to go against the gods’ will. They hadn’t come up with a doable solution and it was starting to weigh on him. After 3,000 long years, Meliodas wasn’t sure how much more failure he could take.

Meliodas drew a shaky breath, trying to pull his mind from those thoughts; “And where are the others?”

“They just left. I advised them to deal with the apprehended criminals, while me and Liz dealt with you. ”

The last words definitely felt a bit loaded, but Meliodas had known Merlin long enough to know that poking that beehive would do him no good. He knew she had opinions of what had happened today, about his actions and choices. Liz’s presence was probably the only thing keeping her quiet right now. When they had a moment alone, however, it would be a completely different matter. Meliodas wasn’t really looking forward to it. He had no counter. He had acted recklessly today, and he would do it again. Every single time, if it was for Elizabeth. They both knew this. Damn the consequences.

“Since when do you have authority over the knights?” Meliodas asked, trying to push the conversation along. Liz was still looking at him with that anger-filled worry. He didn’t like seeing it.

“Oh, they just didn’t feel like disagreeing with me,” Merlin said. A smirk crossed her face; an expression that could send fear through the weak of hearts.

“Barzard thinks you will turn him into a toad if he does,” Liz deadpanned. Meliodas snorted. It only hurt a little to do so.

“I think that’s fair,” Meliodas grinned at Merlin.

“It seemed like the wise choice. I figured you wouldn’t want them hovering about,” Merlin continued, and, well, she wasn’t wrong. “Besides, they all seemed a bit… restless. ”

Meliodas had no doubt Merlin was putting it lightly. The next few days would be hell. For Meliodas to get knocked out like this, was a rarity. Not impossible, of course, but it didn’t really happen. Humans weren’t as powerful these days as they had once been. As for Meliodas, he had gotten quite a reputation in Danafor and the nearby kingdoms; the undefeated Captain of Danafor’s Holy Knights, the man who wouldn't even carry a sword. He could see how today’s event would affect the knights.

Meliodas sat up again. Liz protested loudly but didn’t stop him. This time, he managed to sit up without falling back down and was only a little wobbly in his movements.

“That might be, but this is all unnecessary. I am fine .”

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him again. The judgment was still clear in her expression, which was a little rude. She knew that he was, more or less, fine. Liz probably thought it was much more serious than it was, but she didn’t have all the information. Merlin did, and she wasn’t even helping him. Meliodas had the feeling she was taking Liz’s side over his on the basis that she also knew what it took to actually knock him out. Really though, it had been a bad hit. That was all it was to it. If only they would accept that… Well, that would mean this day was going Meliodas’ way. So far, not happening. If anything, this whole thing was embarrassing. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and now Merlin was letting him pay the price for it.

“You fell on your ass,” Merlin stated crudely – rubbing salt in the wound. It was an obvious overaggeration, even for Liz. After all, Meliodas hadn’t gotten up far enough to do so yet.

“Like I said, no need to be so dramatic, kiddo ,” Meliodas shot back, seeing Merlin’s cheeks flush a little even as she rolled her eyes at him.

“I am not a kid anymore,” Merlin pointed out. The ‘ It’s been over 3,000 years’ rang loud under her words. Meliodas just shrugged.

“Well, I am still older than you.” From the corner of his eye, Meliodas saw Liz frowning. A bit disappointing, but not unexpected. He knew he looked young, especially to humans. He thought Liz would know better than that by now. Did Merlin really look that much older?

“And I am fine.” Meliodas tried to rise to his feet. He didn’t get far. While Merlin just sighed at his instance – he wouldn’t need to repeat himself so much if they just took him for his word – Liz was quick to grab hold of his shoulder, keeping him seated on the ground. He met her gaze. Briefly, he wondered how far she would actually go to keep him from what she saw as potentially harming himself further. Liz had a sweet soul but also had no qualms about getting physical when needed to.

“Look, I’m fine. I promise,” Meliodas told her, smiling as reassuringly as he could. She didn’t move. Meliodas sighed, still smiling as he squeezed her hand on his shoulder. “I am getting up now, Liz, with or without your help.”

He didn’t actually need her help. Though as he had suspected, she relented at that, accepting that he rose to his feet with her keeping him steady. It was something she needed more than him at that moment. Once they got back to Danafor and she was certain he wouldn’t just collapse again, Meliodas was sure she, like Merlin, would have a few choice words for him. He would take it. Because that meant she was unharmed enough to get angry with him.

As it was, Liz didn’t let go of him until she had him seated on the bed in their house. Meliodas wouldn’t complain, even if her fingers dug a little too tightly into his skin or if her worried gaze kept looking him over for more injuries, not as long as she was still there to do it.

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #how many fingers am i holding up? #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins #fic #libra's whumptober 2023 #meliodas whump #meliodas nnt #liz nnt #merlin nnt #nnt #sds #7ds #nnt fic #libra writes #my fics

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Fun Facts from Camp Half-Blood Confidential

• Back when Camp Half-Blood was still in Greece, a little girl looked at the camp's meeting house and said "that's a BIG HOUSE." The nickname stuck, and the house at the heart of Camp Half-Blood has been called "The Big House" ever since. (p 19) • The list of known Historical Demigods includes: Arthur, Merlin, Guinevere, Charlemagne, Joan of Arc, Napoleon, George Washington, Harriet Tubman, Madame Curie, Frank Lloyd Wright, Amelia Earhart, (p22) and James Dean (p112) • Further information on that last one: James Dean, famous actor from the fifties, was a demigod child of Aphrodite. He was killed in a car crash that, according to this book, was the result of a Hephaestus girl he'd cheated on getting even with him. • Annabeth designed a centaur sized bathroom for the Big House. (p33) • Even after The Last Olympian, Annabeth was still making fun of Clarisse for when she got drenched by the toilets in The Lightning Thief (p34) • While Rachel was becoming the oracle, Connor and Travis snuck into the attic to steal stuff. While there, Connor ended up taking the tongs he would later use to grab the napkin Annabeth sent him from Tartarus. (p43-46) • Sometime after Heroes of Olympus, Mythomagic made a "Duel Deity Dual" expansion pack, featuring holographic cards that switched from the featured god's Greek persona to their Roman one, and vice versa. (p51) • There's a Camp Half-Blood legend that a mortal pizza guy once made it through the camp's magical border (p73) • The reason the climbing wall has lava on it was because a centaur once threw a jar of greek fire at it, and it inspired Chiron to make the climbing wall even more dangerous (p76) • Canoe Lake itself was talking for days with the other water spirits about the percabeth underwater kiss. (p132)

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #the stoll brothers #percabeth #percy jackson book spoilers #fun facts #camp half blood confidential #canon #heroes of olympus #otp: the rivalry ends here

[multifairyus]

Erebus is a Brelwyn Shipper

Idk if it’s good tumblr etiquette to drop a link to a fic if I don’t have their tumblr @ or know them personally. But someone dropped a POV switch for Valec on chapter 42 “Rescue” and it is EXCELLENT. The author mentions that they think Valec was playing matchmaker and likes Sel more than he lets in which I 100% agree with.

The fic got me thinking…you know who else I lowkey think ships BreeSel? Erebus.

Current theories about his paternal connection to Sel really got me going. Cuz like. He KNOWS how awful the Oaths system is for cambions and what demons are capable of. He Oathed Sel himself and has an intimate understanding of his abilities. The Shadow King has been around for a while and these crazy kids left an impression in the events of Bloodmarked, and I think he’d clock that this power jump is because of each other.

I’m thinking that when he got his shit rocked in the forest by Bree and Sel’s construct explosion it knocked him onto the shipping boat frfr. Think about it. That combination of raw power and finesse neither of them could achieve on their own? He may be aware of Sel’s impossible life support constructs since he’s aware of Bree being in mortal danger…and the end? A fully realized Bree striking a deal with HIM for the chance to save Sel? Oh there is something going ON here.

Also also also…we keep getting reminded how the Order wouldn’t allow Bree and Nick to be together because of bloodline reasons—too much power and difficulty tracking? Yeah uh, I’d be way more concerned about a medium-bloodcrafter-scion/cambion merlin child?? That power would be unprecedented.

So in a “evil plot for more power once the protagonist dies bwhaahaha” AND in a “good evil dad unintentionally being the twist of fate that brought these two together” kinda way I think he would/should/could be personally interested in Brelwyn becoming a thing!!

#bloodmarked #legendborn #Brelwyn #BreeSel #erebus #erebus varelian #bree matthews #Selwyn Kane #briana matthews #i will go down with this ship #the Legendborn cycle #selbree #Legendborn theory #fan theory

[liketwoswansinbalance]

If you could become one SGE character for a day, who would you want to be?

Instead of answering with a character whose identity I simply like (I have multiple possibilities in mind), I think I'll just go down the one pragmatic route I've thought out: The Lady of the Lake (pre-TCY, of course).

If you'd like to know why, well, I'd love to be a powerful magic-user like Rhian, Rafal, Merlin, or Japeth, but she makes the most sense. Rhian and Rafal are only conditionally immortal and were bound to the Pen, and I wouldn't want to be beholden to that thing. Too much trouble! Japeth and Merlin are decent options, being wizards, but they're mortal, alack! So, that leaves the Lady, who, while I think she may technically be mortal, or perhaps, immortal with the infamous subclause of no romantic partners ever, she's not nearly at as much of a high risk. Thus, I would get virtual, near-immortality (agelessness, at the very least), potent sorcery, and the isolation that comes with my role would make it easy for me to keep my immortality.

However, if it were just for a singular day, and I wasn't threatened by the Pen, I'd pick Rafal, assuming I had full run of both Schools. And, I might do psychological experiments on the students, humane ones though, if anything came to mind. I'm not nearly as bad as him. Or, I'd travel the Woods and fly, or I'd read all the obscure tales lost to time in the silver tower, and take advantage of my newfound sorcerer abilities.

#school for good and evil #rise of the school for good and evil #rafal #rafal mistral #rhian #rhian mistral #the lady of the lake #nimue #japeth #japeth sader-mistral #japeth of foxwood #merlin #merlin of ginnymill #sge #sfgae #the school for good and evil #tsfgae #rotsge #rotsfgae #my post #ask

[draco-needs-a-hug]

AU where Draco sees Snape as more of a Parental Figure to him than either Lucius or Narcissa:

Consider, for a moment, a HP AU where the twins somehow get their hands on a magic potion/spell/etc that causes a very brief but very extreme burst of panic and mortal terror so severe that anyone who experiences it will immediately cry out for their parents—something which the twins were more than glad to share with their friends and classmates before gleefully remarking, "wonder who the ferret will call out for, mummy or daddy?"

"Of course," they add, glancing at Harry and Neville, "that's not the case for everyone; really, it's whoever mainly raised you or who you see the most as a parental figure." So Neville would likely call out for his Gran, and Harry... Well. Maybe Molly Weasley or Sirius Black? Maybe even Remus Lupin or Minerva McGonagall. Who knows.

But Draco Malfoy? Well, it's obvious, isn't it? Surely "daddy" and maybe "mummy" as well.

Or so they thought, but that's not at all what happens...

When Malfoy is hit with the spell or doused with the potion or whatever...his immediate reaction is to scream Sebby.

...Who the hell is "Sebby"?

The answer comes soon enough when Snape and McGonagall and maybe a few others come swooping in to see what all the panic is about, Severus Snape himself looking particularly panicked. When Draco calls out "Sebby" again, terrified and shaking, Snape pales drastically and throws himself onto the floor beside Draco, gathering him up in his arms and immediately interrogating him and all those around to tell him what in Merlin's name happened here?!

Sebby. Sevvy. Severus.

Holy shit.

Here's what they don't know: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are shit parents, if you can even call them that. The second Draco was born they foisted him off onto the House Elves to take care of, and only interacted with him when necessary—attending fancy dinners and events and such.

The House Elves were to feed him, clean him, teach him—everything that a parent is normally supposed to do. And Severus? Oh, Severus...

As Draco's Godfather Severus Snape felt obligated to at least get to know the kid a bit, only to be absolutely horrified at the neglect and lack of care. Snape never wanted or planned on becoming a father but goddammit you cannot just foist a child off onto your magical little slaves to deal with.

And that's how Severus Snape wound up becoming a father completely against his will, regularly visiting the Malfoy Manor nearly every day to take care of and teach little Draco—something which the boy's actual parents were completely oblivious to, considering they never pay a lick of attention to their own kid anyway.

And as for the name "Sebby"? Simply put, little baby Draco couldn't exactly pronounce the v in Severus and it's not like he was going to have his little baby godson address him by his surname. So, Severus became Sevvy became Sebby, a name which Draco winds up associating far more with warmth and love and safety than words like mummy or daddy.

#draco malfoy needs a hug #draco malfoy #severus snape #harry potter #hp fanfic #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction

[hereliesmystuff]

The Final Act

Based on the The Labyrinth of Gedref.

****

“There are two goblets before you. One of the goblets contains a deadly poison, the other goblet, a harmless liquid. All the liquid from both goblets must be drunk, but each of you may only drink from a single goblet.”

“What kind of ridiculous test is that? What does that prove?” Arthur spat.

He injected as much venom as he could into his words, desperate to convince himself that this was all just a silly little game. To have raced out to the edges of Camelot, nevermind the prospect of failing his people once more looming over him, nevermind his fears of inadequacy gnawing viciously at him, nevermind his father’s disappointment beating down on him – it was all beneath him, really. Now seated by the relentless grey seas, he blamed the waves crashing against the rocky shores for the pounding that echoed in his chest. The wet salty air clung onto him, and he accused it of leaving moisture on his skin and squeezing the air out of his lungs. He spent no energy dwelling on the implications of the sorcerer’s instructions, deliberately glossing over the fact that there were two at present, but only one that would endure in the end. The fact that it was Merlin, of all people, who was here sitting across him certainly didn’t mean anything. 

A lonesome ray of sunlight broke through the thick clouds above and fell on the pair of golden goblets in front of him. Under the light, they shone innocently, oblivious to the weight of the role they played. The liquid within was so still and dark that Arthur felt that he was looking into a bottomless pit, not unlike the one in Arthur’s stomach. As he stared down its depths, the pretence he previously put up fell away, laying bare the rawest core of his being.

He had known what the test was for the moment he had seen Merlin by the shore. Everything had been cast in grey, from the barren rocks and murky waters, to the overcast sky and heavy clouds. What lonely rays of sunlight that managed to permeate through the dreary clouds only highlighted the extent of the bleakness surrounding them. Even his metal armour and Anhora’s white robes blended seamlessly into the vast mutedness. Merlin’s dark curls had stood out brightly against the lifeless backdrop. 

He had known when he felt his heart tumble out of his chest. It had renounced the security of its ribcage and plunged itself into the deepest pits of his stomach, where it lay beating dully against his spine.

“Let him go,” he had protested.

“Merlin is part of the test,” had been the reply.

He had known.

Now the two of them were sitting at a stupid table, on stupid tree trunks with their stupid legs awkwardly tucked underneath them because they were too tall for the stupid set-up that the stupid sorcerer had arranged for them.

“I thought I told you to stay at home,” he said to Merlin. 

He was searching, in his anger, for someone to blame. He was like a child, running away from guilt and shame. He was afraid that by admitting that perhaps he played some role in this mess he was in now, that perhaps some of the fault lay in his doing, he would be confessing to the mortal sin of not being good enough. He had taken great pains to hide what he thought was a truth as fundamental as time and space: he was unworthy of existing. It was his fault that his mother had died, and so he spent his entire life repenting. It was his fault that his father couldn't look him in the eye, and so he spent his entire life justifying his existence. He decorated his shame with pride; he filled the holes of his being where love should belong with assertions that he didn't need it; he poured his essence into becoming the best knight in the realm; he shattered the cold, rigid bones of fear so that it would better hide within his stony, stoic confines of his helmet; he strangled the voice of his inner world to please his father. For so long he had tied the conditions of his existence to his duty to others that if anything were to suggest, or even lightly ghost over, the possibility that Arthur had broken his penance, had failed to protect the ones he loved, that he was indeed an irredeemable murderer, he could not bear it. 

So he was angry at Merlin for defying his orders. He was angry at Merlin for putting himself into danger. He was angry at Merlin for this entire mess. If he had just listened–  

But then Merlin looked at him with the same stubbornness he displayed whenever Arthur caught him stealing his food – the exact same one that implied that he was only sorry for getting caught – and his anger had promptly rolled over and died, leaving in his place the guilt and the shame he had desperately tried to ignore. It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that his stupid selflessness got himself dragged into Arthur’s mess. Merlin was in danger because of him. If he had just listened to Merlin.

In many ways, Merlin was a better man than Arthur could ever be. Merlin – for all his incompetence in handling a sword, his fearfulness of dark corners, and, much to Arthur's annoyance, his disrespect towards his sovereign – was the bravest and most honourable man Arthur had ever met. Merlin regularly threw himself into danger without a second’s thought, simply because it was the right thing to do. He was the complete opposite of Arthur, who couldn’t bring himself to challenge his father, who sat in silence as injustice stood in front of him and who was sometimes even its perpetrator. Merlin was so inherently good that it put Arthur to shame. 

Of course, the perennial curse of imperfect people is that they often fall in love with perfect people – it is nature’s way of reminding the imperfect of their imperfection, by cruelly dangling in their faces who they can never be and who they can never have. And Arthur loved Merlin. Loath to admit it, he loved Merlin’s insolent streak. The same sharp tongue that insulted Arthur's waistline also advocated fiercely for the right cause, gave Arthur counsel that he needed and defended those who could not defend themselves. The same resistance he showed against doing basic chores he also showed against unjust orders and tyrannical power. The same clumsy hands that often broke his plates also tended to him gently, checking to make sure his armour was secure and massaging away the aches of the day. 

Merlin was a hurricane of good, unyielding and steadfast in its mission, and Arthur found himself caught in the torrents, spiralling deeper and deeper towards him.

And Merlin was here now, prattling in his ear about ways to cheat around the test, oblivious to the love that raged inside Arthur.

“It is perfectly simple. One of us has to die.” 

In the face of death, Arthur found himself at ease. 

The crown came with the heavy price of knowing that one day, he might have to die for his kingdom. A righteous king would have to walk into the arms of death for his people, his duty to his people being his only source of courage. But this was not that sort of test.

He looked at Merlin, who was frowning at the goblets in front of him, still prattling. Arthur half-heartedly entertained his ideas. He already knew it was him who had to die. He was more focused on watching the man in front of him. He watched how the sun fell on him, highlighting the strong slope of his nose and the sharp ridges of his cheekbones. He watched how his lips moved as he talked, memorising every curve and articulation of his smile. He watched as his eyes flickered between him and the goblets, counting each eyelash and drowning in his gaze. He was regarding Merlin, not with the gentleness of a lover, but with a sort of desperate determination of a hungry beggar presented with a feast. This would be the final image that Arthur would have of Merlin and he wanted it to last even in death.

“I'm glad you're here, Merlin,” he confessed. There was no running away now, so he spoke the truth. “You never cease to surprise me.” 

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to confess his love. He did not want to burden Merlin with the love of a dead man. He did not want him to bear its implications and consequences alone. Above all, he was simply afraid. To speak of it was to bring it into existence and no language in the world possessed words that could accurately capture the sheer purity and trueness of his emotions.

So he would die for Merlin and he hoped that his death serve as his confession, poignantly articulating the ferocity of the love that danced delicately in his heart.

also on ao3

#merthur #merthur fanfic #my post

[hphmmatthewluther]

4, 10, 21 for the end of year asks? 💛

Thanks for the ask, Al!!

4) What piece of media inspired you the most?

Honestly this is a very difficult question, what with the sheer amount of different types of stories I've been writing. There are of course some obvious sources of inspiration, like spy movies (especially the Dalton Bond Movies) for Back By Midnight and Merlin for the Founders' Era, but If I had to pick something that inspired me the most it would likely be the new Legend of Zelda game. There's a lot of fantastic concepts in the game that have influenced my own ideas, such as villains who look down upon mortals, the ancient past having an impact upon the present, as well as relaxing the rules of the world to allow for more wild and bizarre forms of magic.

10) What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

Out of everything I wrote this year, I think I enjoyed writing Back By Midnight the most. It was such a fun work, especially as it slowly grew into a completely original work complete with new names and designs for many of the characters within, e.g., Merula Snyde becoming Meredith Sharrow, Patricia Rakepick becoming Pamela Warwick, etc. Apart from that, writing an action-packed spy story is a lot of fun!!

21) Share your favorite piece of dialogue.

This is a tricky one, but I think it'd have to be...

“Silence!” Betwixt roared, before stopping, sighing, and allowing himself to chuckle. “You are a mortal, a peasant, and woefully ignorant of magic. Those three things make me better than you. I wouldn’t talk about permission to own metal when last night you had to have permission for, oo, lots of things, wasn’t it? Like food, and free time, and being able to re-”

Before Betwixt could finish Lachlann had kicked them in the stomach with his wet shoe.

-Threads of Silver, Chapter Two: "Highs and Lows"

#ask game #fic writer asks #hphm #back by midnight #hp founders era #founders' era #threads of silver #matthew luther #meredith sharrow #lachlann doherty #sovereign betwixt

[ofglories]

⭐️⭐️ / Caster Arthur ( or any Arthur really )

⭐️⭐️ / Emrys

Aaaand finally ⭐️⭐️ for Taliesin bc I'm curious!

|| Send a ⭐️ for a headcanon about our muses ; accepting!

Thanks to Caster Arthur having been fully raised by Merlin as basically the only consistent adult in his life, he completely sees Merlin as his father. Not a father figure like Saber and Lancer Arthur sees him as, but actually as his father. He barely even considers Uther a person, even less someone Arthur could be related to. So in private, and when Merlin isn't giving him lessons, Arthur calls him father. Especially after the man's reaction to the first time it happened.

Despite Merlin's best efforts, even in this timeline, Arthur is utterly hopeless with music and poetry. The first time he tried to play the lute he accidentally somehow summoned a pissed off elemental spirit that both of them had to subdue and disperse back to where it was meant to be. Merlin still brings it up when Arthur tries to write love songs and poems about Bedivere, even when Arthur's serving his dear king as an adult.

It took him a while to realize it, but Emrys absolutely fell for Merlin the first time they even saw each other in that misty forest. He did eventually tell this to him much later, and it became something they would joke about. Both in Camelot and in Chaldea, they laugh over how despite all the warning signs of a beautiful and otherworldy man appearing in a strange forest, Emrys still fell head over heels for Merlin right then and there.

The Stonehenge Incident is their own personal in-joke that basically no one but them understands. It was one of the first times Emrys fully laughed around Merlin, though not the time he laughed harder than he ever had before. After all, what's funnier than using magic to steal a ring of ancient standing stones to just a few miles up the road? Absolutely nothing. And all either of them has to do is bring it up and they'll both start laughing.

As Taliesin's student, Merlin learned a great deal of things about both magic and music, of course. But he also learned history. Real history of the world that was forgotten by all but the gods and Taliesin himself. Things that Taliesin would only tell to two other people, really: Yvain and Branwen. Both mortal children that he would raise and love as his own. And though he can't truly consider Merlin his child thanks to him being Rowan's sprout, he hopes Merlin would consider him at least some form of family.

Taliesin showed Merlin a glimpse of his future in what would eventually become Camelot by taking him to the exact location that would later become the heart of the castle. It was there, with a small spring that would dry long before the Pendragons arrived, that he showed the mage a myriad of visions, each tying to various events and different possible outcomes. This was to help Merlin figure out how to decipher his own prophetic visions, and to guide him in the little way Taliesin could without stepping too far into interference.

#messages on birdwing; asks #avaloniamagus #an endless tale; headcanon #the heart of a fallen star; emrys pendragon #twelve seals unleashed; arthur pendragon #the dragon star that guides the future; caster verse #a song that echoes upon time ; taliesin