Okay okay thinking about it, really thinking about it. My post from the other day (here) I said "you see him slip into this version of himself that is hardly recognisable, even when you compare him to his characterisation in S4" talking about S5 Merlin.
And then I really thought about, okay but what if say S1 Merlin was put into S5 Merlin's shoes, would he do any different? Would he?
Honestly, think about it.
Let's take him at the end of S1, where he was ready to give up his life for Arthur completely to save him. I mean sure he did that in S1Ep4, and tried to do it in S1Ep11, but Ep13 is where it really hits. He said goodbye after all.
This is a Merlin that was ready to tell Arthur about his magic, but was locked out of the possibility after Will lied as he died to protect him.
This is a Merlin who already tried to kill Mordred. Or well, let him die really. Not so much kill.
So let's look at lines from S1EP8 about Mordred dying vs Arthur dying, shall we? ...
"Would you let something terrible happen if it meant you'd stop something even worse happening in the future?"
"One of them's bad, really bad. And the other, it's...unthinkable."
"For once, you don't have to worry. I'm going to do nothing."
I cut out Gaius's replies because Merlin's lines are more important here. The 'something terrible' and the one that's 'bad, really bad' refer to letting Mordred be executed.
Meanwhile the 'something even worse' and 'it's unthinkable' refer to Arthur's death in the future.
He decides to do nothing as we know, he decides to let Mordred die, right up until Mordred pleads with him through telepathy.
That's the S1 Merlin we're dealing with.
Maybe if you took him from Ep1 or pre-S1 yeah he'd act differently, but S1 Merlin is as much defined by Arthur's impending death as S5 Merlin is.
The only difference is between them, S1 Merlin has destiny propelling him forward just a little more than S5 Merlin does. Whether by love or sheer dedication, S5 Merlin is even prepared to push aside his own freedom to save Arthur's life, just to condemn Mordred to death.
Would S1 Merlin do any different?
No, no I don't think he would. Not if he saw the vision, not if he saw Arthur fall.
S5 Merlin is defined by what he saw in the pool, he's defined by seeing what he believes is Arthur's death (not yet knowing he would survive for days after acquiring that wound)
If S1 Merlin, or even S2, 3, or 4 saw that same vision? I don't think they would do any differently.
Maybe he had more hope earlier on, sure, but that would be missing the way that S5 Merlin hopes. He tells both Mordred and Finna that it "won't always be like this". He hopes for freedom as much as S1 Merlin does, he's just more prepared to prioritise Arthur.
But isn't that what he's always done? S2, when he struggles to lie, but still does lie to Arthur about Morgause and his mother - He's thanked for reminding Arthur that sorcerers are evil.
The way he acts just before telling the lie is so similar to his expressions when he's about say "There can be no place for magic in Camelot" in S5Ep5.
That's the thing. I know I bang on about how S5 Merlin is so much darker and he is, he grew up after all. But I truly think if S1 Merlin saw that vision, nothing would have changed.
Nothing. Not even his actions with the Disir. Why would he, if there's a chance to try and kill Mordred Merlin always took it. Or tried to as much as he could.
S2 Merlin, put in S5 Merlin's shoes, might even edge closer to murder, that man tripped that kid up in the hope that two guards would kill him, and instead watched as Mordred killed the guards instead.
What, Merlin was innocent back in earlier seasons? That boy, that man, he was never innocent, man was down to murder from his very first day in Camelot.
So yes, S5 Merlin has ten years give or take of saving Arthur and setting aside his freedom, and that did indeed darken him and change him and mould him, but S1 Merlin already had enough experience that nothing would change.
Merlin was always going to condemn Mordred, he barely knew him early on after all, and later, he already had the knowledge of the vision.
Let's not forget that in S5, Merlin says he likes Mordred, but that he can't ignore what he saw. That he can't save the life of a man destined to kill Arthur, that he can't ignore what the dragon said. That Finna was right, he cannot trust Mordred, not after all he's been told.
I don't think any Merlin could do any differently if he was told all that, and shown Camlann.
There's no such thing as an innocent Merlin, not when it comes to Arthur's life. We can say he became too blinded, but in S4 he killed Agravaine, used dark magic to lock away Morgana's magic for a time, and took away Arthur's free will. S3 is a little harder, but he did command Kilgharrah against his will. S2 Merlin is easy, he tried to kill Mordred, and morbidly held Morgana as she was dying to the water he poisoned. S1 Merls is just people dying left and bloody right. Nimueh, god should we ever forget about the way he killed Nimueh. She fucking exploded.
All this to say, S5 Merlin didn't abandon his values because he already did that when they all first met Mordred. He just became more and more set, darker and darker over time. But if any version of himself was given that vision by the Vates, it's over, it's so over, because that's all it took.
To see Arthur fall, that's all it took. It's all it would ever take.
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do u think we can hear a little bit of the kyle cant say i love u ask?
ugh, yes </3
so...fair warning, idk what this is. also...
why is it written in present tense? idk. anyways!
i started ~writing~ something ( bad ) that i was going to maybe slap to the end of the ask, which is not proofread or finished, but basically context is that it's the #ravesey divorce fight, the climax of it...
...where stan starts packing a bag and for one of the first times in his pleated, completed, type-a, show no mercy, no nonsense, new jersey slaughterhouse life, kyle broflovski...is paralyzed with fear.
because kyle who always has his shit together is completely losing it.
everything.
his everything.
his stan.
again.
and he's ripped at the seams, dissolving right before our very eyes: his perfect auburn tresses which usually cascade and glide effortlessly down his lithe shoulders, are fucked up, frizzy and falling all over his face which is pale, creased and gaunt...like he's seen a ghost.
his pupils are blown to high heaven and shot to all hell. dilated like two green distress signals. once fierce now frightened, floundering.
his special stan glasses are crooked and fogging up from how hard and uneven his breathing is with the chain nearly suffocating him from how rough and imprecise his startled, frenzied movements are.
he's shaking his head in horror, in shock, in grief, in utter disbelief. really, his whole fucking body is shaking like an addict going through withdrawals, but this is a million times worse than watching someone flush a pack of cigarettes down the toilet. it stings. it burns. it lingers.
in a way that stan won't.
but kyle needs him to, needs him to stay, needs him close, needs him forever, so he's talking fast, way, way, way too fast, like if he can say enough other words, i love you will seem far less grand and lustrous...
but they're not.
whilist time passes achingly slow. and kyle's given hundreds of speeches, debates and lectures, but words fail him, his lips quiver, his mouth opens and closes helplessly and that booming voice is barely a whisper when he finally musters up the dis-courage to mumur;
"...b-baby? baby! where—where are you going?! w-where are YO—“
kyle darts forward and reaches for his boyfriend before he turns into a memory again, not sure where he was aiming. to please, to squeeze, to stroke his tear-slicked cheek, maybe? to dust the tips of the his trembling, unworthy fingers cross that little spot of sun just beneath his right eye. the gentle curve of his jaw, far less violent than his, or—or even just on the side of his arm where love is written in spanish. amor. like tracing the letters onto his skin would be good enough.
but it never was.
he never was.
and as proof of his inadequacy, stan sails to the left and ducks right under kyle's arm, which collides with the quilted down of their couch.
…their couch.
how long would their couch be their couch? kyle thought that their couch would always be their couch! kyle thought that—
"out."
it was a single syllable, uttered in the same bratty voice harnessed by misbehaved teenage boys everywhere, but it was different coming from stan, whose mouth was not made to start fights or draw blood. it was a horrible, harsh sound, wrought with an undercurrent of sadness.
it was then that the realization dawns on him.
stan wasn't angry with him.
stan was disappointed in him.
which was far, far worse.
kyle wants to look strong, look stable, look sturdy, so stan would look at him — god, he would do anything for stan to just look at him! and stop packing that stupid fucking bag, that dumb black jansport backpack they'd bought back to school shopping because...his stan was going back to school. and kyle was so...so proud of him.
but gerald never was, gerald was loud, so kyle was loud, so when he should have congratulated stan for doing something difficult, he criticized him for not doing something easy! like the dishes and told stan he'd stitched his name into the bag...just in case he lost it.
funny how things happen.
…not funny.
not funny at all, actually!
so then…why was he laughing?
why the Fuck was he laug—
"out? Out? O-OUTSIDE?! stan, you—ya can't be serious?! you're in a little t-shirt and—and shorts, you'll freeze to death! you'll—“
kyle clings to the thin fabric of stan's tee-shirt, admiring the myriad of sauce stains and makeup marks that, on a normal night, kyle might be livid about, but tonight...they're lovely; they're so, so lovely.
just like the boy who made them.
the boy kyle loves.
not rockstar raven of crimson dawn.
but sweet, sensitive stanley marsh.
his stan.
his...
kyle's eyes fall absentmindedly to the tattered hem of stan's shorts, where amidst a jagged, serrated sea of angry self mutilizations past, was a new beginning...the beginning of a word, a sound, a letter...a
K.
a k...for kyle.
stan had gotten it done last anti-valentine's day, as a gift, for him, but mostly...for himself. because stan cruelly hated himself, every part of his body, but he hated that part the most. his inner thighs, the valley that stretched between them...so he'd gotten kyle's name tattooed down there, so that when he was off on tour and missed his boyfriend terribly...he was with him.
always.
so that on his very worst days, when he felt the worst about himself, he could still see his super best friend. a precious skin-deep reminder that when the dysphoria hit and he felt like shit, craved a stiff drink and the razor blade winked…that when he felt falsely ugly...
...someone thought he was truly beautiful.
and he was.
he was really...and truly beautiful.
everyday. every second. even now. especially now. and god, what kyle wouldn't do to place his lips in that spot right there, anywhere, everywhere! because kyle couldn't say i love you and they weren't married, no, not in the traditional sense, but even so, kyle went to temple, a place of sacred worship & recited his vows every night.
every stroke, every sigh, every stretch of blessed skin.
i love you.
i love you.
i love—
"because you're so worried about me, right, kyle?"
stan sneers, holding his name like a knife between teeth.
"—because you love me, right?"
he spit and twist it.
it was twisted. and kyle feels those spiteful syllables split him open like shrapnel. he gasps like stan had shot him, grasping the hem of his shirt so hard that it hurt, like a little kid clinging to his mother's skirt.
so scared she would leave.
so scared she would go, begging
don't go.
please don't go.
please, please, please don't g—
"NO! i—i do! stan, i do!”
kyle tries to argue but nearly breaks his neck nodding, with his shrill voice weak and watery and wanting.
“baby—BABY! i do, i DO! i really do! i—I LO—“
but the words wouldn't come.
kyle was banging on the wall, iron clad and impenetrable, he fought and shouted, kicked and screamed and still...nothing would come.
he couldn't say it. he couldn't FUCKING say it!
why...why?
Why?
WHY?!
he had never wanted to cry before but he could feel it in the back of his throat. he wants to come out. the little boy he'd trapped back there. but he couldn't be that big again, that small...that pathetic. so he bites down HARD. harder than he'd even bitten before and thrashes his cheek with his teeth, the taste of blood filling his mouth.
and for a moment...he feels dizzy...
because the blood tastes like metal.
like stan.
just like sta—
"save it, mi sabelotodo."
stan sniffs and lifts his head up slowly. his damp bangs are stuck to his forehead, the tips just barely kissed with bleach, mere whispers of the boy they wanted him, those beautiful dark roots growing with him into the man he wanted to be. whose wonderful face was flushed with frustration, whose kind, bright blue eyes were...
god, all kyle had wanted was for stan to look at him. but it gores him; it guts him. it carves him; it cuts him.
it was wrong. it was all wrong!
he took it back. he took it all back!
take me back, baby.
he wants to plead, while his lip shakes and bleeds.
stanley, PLEASE take me ba—
then, in one foul swoop, the boy with the bag shrugs his shoulders and kyle's hand crumples back down onto the couch. broken. lifeless.
"—save it for someone you actually love."
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Woken up, wild beast
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: KinnPorsche: The Series (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: (implied) Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Macau Theerapanyakun & Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Nop (KinnPorsche: The Series) & Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun
Characters: Nop (KinnPorsche: The Series), Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Macau Theerapanyakun, Original Characters, Original Bodyguard Characters
Additional Tags: there's not much VegasPete here but it IS a crucial background detail, POV Outsider, POV Nop (KinnPorsche: The Series), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pack Dynamics, Alpha Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Time Travel, Angst, Pre-Canon, Hurt Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Emotional Hurt, yes beta we live like Vegas with four bulletshot wounds
Series: Part 1 of the fire inside me and you, an echo of the source - our primal souls...
Summary:
“With me.” The order came down whip-quick, as cutting as it was powerful, and Nop scrambled to follow, barely able to catch up to his new charge before the door nearly slammed shut in his face.
He’s been with Khun Vegas ever since.
Always guarding, always watching, always on the lookout for anything or anyone that could mean Khun Vegas harm — be it their enemies, the major family, Khun Gun or, on the worst days, Khun Vegas himself.
So, when one day Khun Vegas wakes up with mad, haunted eyes and a frantic, desperate energy pouring out of him heavy as a flood, Nop knows immediately — intimately — that something is horribly, terribly wrong.
-
Finally, some new writing I can share! ^^
This is super self-indulgent and hyper-specific and I might just be the sole target audience, lmao, but if anyone else stumbles upon this and gets a smile out of it, then I'm a writer fulfilled ^^ Give it a shot if you’re curious and I hope it’s gonna be a nice read 💗
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Te’an Trea - the ancient language
In the world of my story, or rather in one of its realms, there’s an ancient language called Te’an Trea - the language of trees.
Like the name says, Te’an trea is inspired by the “language” of the trees, the whispering of the wind as it dances through their leaves.
Legend says that the trees themselves taught the people how to speak their language. Of course, the trees make sounds that people could never pronounce, so the language can be seen as an interpretation of their song.
It’s not actively spoken, not anymore, at least. Way back it was a quite common language, with many people understanding or speaking it, either as their first or second language.
The wild fae folk was fond of the language especially. They already knew it before the fair fae even existed, so it’s not surprising. Many of their clans still teach the ancient language.
However, nowadays it is only used for magical and/or religious purposes, as well as poetry. Priests are among the few fae that still learn to speak the language and some people study it at the Keeper temples but it’s become a quite rare tongue.
Rare, but never truly forgotten. The fae still use some of the ancient language’s words in their daily life and talking. Their months, feasts and seasons for example are still referred to by their ancient words. Old terms of endearment are still quite popular, as well as some honorifics.
And, of course, prayers and little spells. You could pretty much call Te’an Trea a spiritual language in these days. Both fair and wild fae use it and treat it and the people who speak it with great respect.
Something that is connected to the old language and still quite common nowadays are runes. Many important words of Te’an Trea also have a rune, a symbol that holds a certain meaning -and a certain power.
They’re still taught. Rune reading is considered a religious practice as well as a fun activity. Also, the fae carve runes into their weapons and other important things to bless them or give them a certain kind of protection/power.
Here are some words in Te’an Trea that are still quite relevant:
ahnra - Soul
an’dra - Nature
a’laen - Child
criah - Heart
dhaia - Goddess
dha’ir - God-Chosen
di’ann - Folk
fhlira - Flower
fiah’sghea - Wild Hunt
fio’sheal - Seer
gheal - Moon
ghir’nan - Stars
ghri’an - Sun
m’haistir - Teacher
soira - Mind
trea - Tree
thal - Earth
Bonus: An’laen and Tre’laen = old names for wild and fair fae. An’laen basically means “children of nature” while Tre’laen means “children of (the) trees”
*
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