I just wrote a Damon Salavtore fanfic 😮💨 it's titled Iridescent. I suck at promo. I created a fantasy world just for it because i plan to write a novel based on it. Hwhehehehs. Check it out pls.
I have this recurring dream that we're still together.We live on a remote island. At first, it's only the both of us. We'll argue about marriage, as we always did before we settled down with a dog. A golden retriever, or Rottweiler. Any type of dog. Then, we'll get a cat with the same attitude as me. Then we'll have children. First, a daughter who is a carbon copy of you. Then we'll have a son, he's going to be like me.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Merlin is tired of the tavern excuse and at this point, Arthur doesn't really believe the 'gathering herbs' thing either anymore.
So, Merlin tells Arthur he's sick.
Except he didn't account for the fact that Arthur becomes a terrified worryward of a mess. Merlin, thinking he's got some time alone, is now chained to his bed with Arthur feeding him soup and 'checking his temperature', only that Arthur has no clue what he's doing.
Merlin on the other hand can only think of the assassin and.... 'Actually, this is nice.'
“so,” says stiles, “do you want to like me, ‘cause you kind of look like you’re in pain right now.”
derek looks up at him, eyes alarmingly serious. “i only want to like you, if you like me too.”
for a moment, stiles isn’t sure if he should believe him. but derek’s voice is soft if his face is a little gruff, and there’s no way stiles is going to let him go, not ever.
There’s something so sweet about this scene. Not only Arthur is surrounded by his knights, his friends, he still can’t seem to forget there’s someone missing.
And the way he approaches Merlin is nothing funny or sarcastic: it’s pure concern, it’s love, it’s respect.
Merlin admits he’s scared, without thinking about it twice, because yes, this is Arthur, the same man who makes fun of me on a daily, but he’s also my best friend, the man I love, and who I could lose, but I can’t tell him, but, oh God, if he needs to know I don’t want him to die. I’m the most powerful warlock on earth, yet I’m scared of Morgana, because she wants to kill Arthur, and I’m weak when it comes to him, I’m scared I won’t be able to protect him as I should (especially since Merlin has heard the prophecy that spoke of Arthur’s bane).
I like Arthur’s stunned face. Merlin is referring to his life. “You don’t care you could die?” And not only Arthur is shocked by it, because he thought Merlin knew his reasonings by now, knew that Arthur would never risk losing his knights, losing Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t care as long as his men are safe, as long as Merlin’s safe (because, let’s be honest, this conversation is nothing but a way for them to tell each other how they feel towards one another, without exposing themselves to the danger of this revelation). And Arthur needs to make something clear:
“Only about you.” Because Arthur brings Merlin everywhere like he’s a solider, a warrior, someone who knows how to fight with a sword, who’s an asset to Camelot and the kingdom itself, so he considers him an equal, someone he can sit with on a lower step and chat with about his fears, because he can be vulnerable with Merlin. Arthur knows he’s safe with him.
Arthur includes Merlin in his speech, and this is something that could mean, “Oh, so Merlin isn’t a friend, isn’t a brother, he’s so much more.” This scene is so impactful, because it’s one of those rare moments where Arthur shows how deeply he can love, how much risk he’s willing to take to bring peace to his kingdom and to his people: to the ones he loves.
And he knows his knights, he knows Merlin won’t abandon him, because he has never done it, and Arthur truly believes Merlin has no reason to do it now, even if he’s scared. It’s as if Arthur is asking, just to make sure, just to have the confirmation that they think the same of it.
And they do:
I wish I didn’t understand how much I’m willing to risk, and have already risked for you. Because this is why I’m here: for you and only for you.
The self deprecating smile, because Merlin can’t back down, he never will. He’s so frightened, yet not even the prospect of battling against Morgana and her army will make him run.
He has Arthur to protect.
The way he smiles, it’s as if he’s saying, “Why didn’t I understand this sooner? Arthur’s just like me.” But it’s the fact that they told each other this, they know now, after ten years, that they’re willing to do anything and more for the other to stay safe, to be alive, even if one of them isn’t.
Merlin tells Arthur. He watches him intensely, because Arthur needs to understand. He’s honest.
Arthur gets it, and he’s finally happy. He’s relieved that Merlin won’t abandon him, that he will stay by his side, like he always is, protecting him, fighting with him, and helping him.
Arthur smiles at Merlin like he’s seeing him for the first time, and he falls in love with him just that tad bit more.
I looove how they had to describe this line in the Merlin books as Arthur giving a “forced, tight smile” because if they described the way he actually delivered this line they would have no reasonable explanation as to why he says it so fondly…..
there are consequences to being a creature of magic, of the old religion, of power and energy given form.
merlin is not human, no matter what he thinks. the body he has is just a second skin, a coat over the tumultuous magic beneath, so that it had shape, form. he looks human, he thinks human, he feels human. but he is not truly human.
it’s why shapeshifting spells work so well upon him. he’s not changing himself, just the look of the skin he’s wearing. the magic beneath has no true form, and thus cannot be changed when it is everything everywhere all at once.
(the magic that makes merlin is the magic that makes the world, so it has no shape and to look upon it with mortal eyes would be a headache inducing, nauseating ever-shifting thing, that moves through different features of different magical beings like the water of a lake rippling.)
OR
someone with a deep connection to the old religion can see that emrys is no true human. just a creature of magic wearing a human skin, a shapeshifter that refuses to show its true form. (because people say emrys is magic, but no one truly understands the roiling thing living and breathing inside his skin. so obviously there has to be a true form of emrys underneath the image of merlin.)
so they decide to rip that human skin off. force the shape beneath to show itself. tear away the visage of merlin to leave behind only emrys, the creature that will bring magic back to the land or so help them.
it takes a lot of energy and power, and the use of ancient artifacts of the old religion that have been slowly gathering magic for centuries. but they manage it, they bind the human skin to an object, and tear the object away, to leave behind only emrys.
…
except emrys is not made for mortal eyes. especially not the eyes of someone who had hurt them and tore away their shape, their form. (because emrys, as a creature of magic, is still heartbreakingly young. a child, really. maybe that’s why merlin is still so wide-eyed all the time. still young at heart, even as his body looks older.)
so they look upon emrys and burn.
and emrys, lost and confused and hurt and not understanding— where is their body why do they hurt what is wrong with them they are constantly changing shapes and cannot control it and theyre so scared— flees to the only thing they know for sure. and behind them, amongst the mess of ash and scorched earth that once was alive, the object holding their skin lies abandoned, forgotten.
OR
arthur finds the embodiment of magic huddled up against his bedroom window. he doesn’t recognize it immediately as such, but it glows golden and cannot seem to stop subtlety changing shape and growing features that were not there before while losing others. and really, he picks up on the fact eventually.
to reiterate, arthur pendragon, son of the magic-hating king, a young man who had not yet decided if he would hate it the same, has the embodiment of magic hiding outside his window.
he shouldn’t open it. shouldn’t let the pathetic, forcing-itself-to-be-small thing inside.
it howls and cries without words, a sad and fearful air pressing down on him, begging begging helphelphelphelpsomethingswrongsomethingswrongtheytookawaymybodyarthurarthurarthurhelphelphelphelphe—
arthur opens the window.
as the magic flies in, it takes a more solid, in the loosest form of the word, form, dragon-like and small. young. it hides in the crook of his neck, tucks its head in close and shivers.
arthur feels almost like he has let in a frightened bird, it is so small and fluttery.
merlin’s gone missing and there is something small and magical and highly illegal hiding against the small hollow between his neck and shoulders.
he leaves it there.
OR
arthur holds a power he does not quite understand in his hands. he knows it is greater than its form, can feel the pressing weight of something that belies the tiny body.
he knows it is magic. perhaps that is all he really needs to know.
and then he does something that feels exceedingly foolish.
“i’m looking for merlin, my… manservant,” he begins, and the golden thing ripples like a lake in the wind, “can you find where he was taken?”
at least seven eyes blink into existence upon the roiling magical creature, all of them looking up at arthur. another blink, and then they vanish. in their place, wings sprout, some of them draconian in shape, others more bird-like and feathery.
a tail, tiny and yet impossibly strong, wraps around his wrist, and the thing takes flight, pulling him along.
the knights startle, when arthur appears, being seemingly dragged behind a creature no bigger than a songbird, and so breathtakingly magical in spite of it.
“well?” arthur asks, acerbic. “prepare your steeds. we’ve finally gotten a lead on merlin.”
OR
they find a wasteland.
there is nothing left alive in a large circle, all of it surrounding an ancient building now nothing but rubble. the life is not burned away, or diseased into nothing, or anything that could be argued as natural.
instead, it is a wasteland that magic had abandoned. that intrinsic thing within all things, alive and not, had fled this place, ushered out by a fearful and terrified little godling ripped away from the only skin-home it had ever known.
nothing lives here and nothing will ever live here.
it is an ill omen indeed.
and then they discover the sorcerer’s bones, and the fact that said sorcerer was not in fact working alone.
“you,” the only other living being in about a mile spits out like a curse, upon sighting the king, “what have you done with them? where is the being below the skin?”
none of the knights nor the king understand. the little creature of magic had hidden itself in the folds of arthur’s cape, another golden draconian insignia among the rest.
“the what?” arthur asks.
“where is emrys?” the sorcerer spits, summoning a stream of fire heading directly for the king.
magic itself, given form, bursts from the camelot red cape, all golden edges and vengeful anger, the tiny thing no larger than an arm suddenly expanding rapidly. it forms a gigantic serpent, or something like it, lithe and long, but with the beak of a bird of prey, eyes like a feline, a unicorn’s horn on its head. it eats the fire whole, and the giant form bears down on the suddenly cowering sorcerer.
“but—but we freed you,” they mutter, afraid, “we released you from the human shell containing you. how else… how else could you bring back magic…?”
the thing cannot speak, it has no way to do so. what it can do is press feeling into your head. whatever this is, it is so powerful everyone there can feel it, and perhaps even some that are much further away.
G I V E I T B A C K.
it feels nothing like the helpless pained crying that arthur had heard from outside his window, like a yowling alley cat. this monster is nothing like the little bird-like afraid thing that had hidden in his collar, tucked against his throat. this beast of dripping fangs and deadly edges is almost completely separate from the creature of fluttery wings and wide eyes.
and yet he can hear something distinctly afraid in the wailing howl.
it is still desperate and afraid. it’s just angry enough now to cover it up.
I have an idea for a Merlin fic but life is chaos so I cannot write it:
So for whatever reason Arthur is away (probably visiting some Lord or Nobel House) and Merlin stays behind (who knows why).
Uthers manservant is ill so he requests Merlin (after all he’s the crown prince’s manservant he should be good enough for the king).
Merlin is now stuck as Uthers servant for a week and I really want to see Merlin try to wake the King up with “rise and shine!! :D”
He talks too much and is entirely too familiar with the King, taking liberties and speaking out of turn, mentioning Arthur by name and not title, is always late with lunch but somehow…
Uther finds him fascinating. He knows Merlin is completely loyal to Arthur (he said so himself in the show). He understands Merlin hears castle gossip like most staff, but he is actually able to understand the significance behind the rumours. Merlin is also trusted by the knights and has insight into the lords and ladies of the court. He sees things, he hears things. Uther can use this
As a physician in training, he is able to treat Uthers old knee injury, and he is clearly learned. He can read and write better than some of the noblemen he’s met. One day Uther enters his chambers and finds Merlin bent over the desk looking over the grain reports “did you notice Lord Chester had been underreporting his grain storage for three years and is selling it under the table to a foreign king?”
Merlin is a terrible manservant…but Uthers clothing had never been cleaner, his armour so polished, his bathwater so hot and his notes so organised. Merlin is continuously late and covered in mud or moss, but somehow Uther finds he doesn’t mind as long as Merlin keeps feeding him important castle gossip.
Arthur gets Merlin back at the end of the week, and Merlin can finally breathe (he’s been a nervous wreck for the last seven days). Uthers servant recovers and the King has a functional servant again as is befitting his station.
But Uther is now willing to overlook some of Merlin’s …ridiculousness and familiarity with Arthur…after all, he’s realised Merlin does have some uses, even though he’s always late with breakfast.
Scenes like this:
“You’re the clumsiest excuse for a servant I’ve ever met!”
“Yes, Arthur says I have the elegance of a newborn lamb”
“Why is there a twig in your hair? It’s unbefitting of your station as servant of the King”
“I fell asleep in a ditch, anyways have you heard Lady Carteret has been seen buying hemlock at the apothecary? I’m sure Lord Carteret is soon to be missing, poor sod”
“Can you never bring me my breakfast on time?!”
“Sorry Sire, the poison tester died this morning after drinking your tea, so I had to brew it myself, and we’re in need of a new poison tester. And in totally unrelated news Lord Milder was seen fleeing the castle”
“Rise and shine!! The sun is up and you should be too!”
“Is this really how you wake your King? And where the hell is my breakfast!”
“Well Arthur usually throws a pillow at me even though it’s my job to wake him in the morning - that lazy arse!”
