— ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴇᴍʀʏѕ

ɪɴᴅɪᴇ ᴘᴏѕᴛ-ʙʙᴄ & ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀᴠᴇʀѕᴇ ᴍᴇʀʟɪɴ

[excalibvrs]

There is no c a l m inside me; no serenity, no silence [x]

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Merthur according to tumblr. (insp.)

[indyfinitely]

11/? favourite fictional males : Merlin (Merlin)

“some men are born to plough fields. some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings. me, i was born to serve you, arthur. and i’m proud of that. and i wouldn’t change a thing.”

[waltersulllivan-deactivated2019]

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druiidboy:

Mordred nodded, he knew history could repeat itself. He’d heard it enough in History of Magic to really have it ingrained in his mind. Mordred looked at him, that would be helpful if he knew his family. But his family was dead, he was an orphan, so even knowing if that was possible seemed unlikely. He shrugged.

Mordred shifted in his chair. “Am I going to get in trouble for what I did?” he asked. That was something that worried him. If his little ability was something the teachers were worried about, and the most definitely seemed worried about it, he wanted to know what that meant for him.

Mordred nodded, that seemed reasonable he knew wizards could live a long time, and not look their exact age. He squinted his eyes, if he wasn’t a professor then why was he here. He wasn’t really buying the friend thing. It all seemed very suspicious now.

“So, you’re here because the school thinks I need help?”

                        “I don’t think so,” he replied. “They might frown and ask you to promise to not do it again, but Hogwarts will never punish you for innate magic. They just ask you to learn to control it.” He reached out and put his hand on the boy’s knee, smiling warmly. “You won’t be in trouble, though.” Even if they worried, there was nothing they could do about it. He was here to learn to control his powers after all.

                        Merlin was generally suspicious these days, it was unavoidable when you lived forever and didn’t exactly have a public identity. But the weird and the mystery generally worked to his favor in Hogwarts. Meeting a stranger one in the halls could easily be brushed off. But Mordred would be different he knew that already. He wasn’t going to just be vanishing off this time. Mordred might be an innocent boy now, but Merlin would like to ensure it stayed that way.

                        “Something like that.”

[sunsetcurveofficial]

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Arthur wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself if he’d gone through with it. It would have destroyed him.

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ravenclawsghost:

She listens attentively as he shares his story with her; doesn’t interrupt to comment, and even after he has ended, she keeps quiet and still, almost motionless  ( his life has been so full of movement, and in comparison she has become a picture of stillness itself, caught in a century long gone by. )

           Eventually, the silence grows too heavy to bear, and Helena tries a smile                  it might seem somewhat pitying, but it’s sincere and steady, which surprises             even herself, considering the situation and everything she has just been told.

   “I’m sorry,”

           is the first thing that comes out of her mouth, and it sounds like she has a lump            in her throat. Her gaze returns to the ground and she immediately wishes she            could take it back. What was there to be sorry for? A long, healthy life with so            many chances, so many opportunities        she might have envied him, would            she not know the cost of it. Surviver’s guilt is a terrible thing, and she’s had            her fair share of it       outliving everyone you know and love  ( and sometimes            feeling responsible for it )  is more painful than one might expect, and she’s            been living with it for long enough to know that even after years, it never quite            goes away.

                                Helena briefly closes her eyes and shakes her head, searching            for the right words to say, for the right way to react to such a story ( I’m sorry            would never cover it, but then again, neither will any other words, most likely. )

“I just … it sounds … lonely.”

                          And another time, her hand reaches up all by itself, just that she                           doesn’t shy away now  ( though she can’t bring herself to touch                           him, either )  and it lingers right before his chest. It’s merely a                           sentiment she can offer, as comforting touch is no longer in her                           capabilities, but she hopes he recognizes the gesture nonetheless.                           Her voice is but a whisper when she finally continues:

            “All those years … it must have been so hard.               I had no idea, would have never even guessed, I …                                      I’m so sorry.”

     Merlin pulls his eyes away from his wand and looks up at the ghost      before him. Pity from the dead... Once, he couldn’t understand how      the dead could ever take pity on the living, but that was a very long      time ago indeed. The dead found peace even in a stuck afterlife bet-      ween the veils. There was no rest for the living.

        He smiles softly at the gesture of touch, something she can’t give and         something he’s denied for  long while. It’s hard to allow himself to get         lose to anyone when he knows it can never last, knows eventually that         he must leave and they must die. But Helena, he’s already lost her,          even if she stands before him now, just an echo of the brilliant witch she         had once been, the amazing woman he’d called his friend.

                        “Thank you, Helena,” he murmured, raising his hand                   to hover over hers. He couldn’t hold her, couldn’t take her                   hand, but the gesture was there. “Thank you...”

     He closes his eyes for a moment to steady himself, and when he opens      them again it’s with a silent whisper, his eyes flashing gold. A little smoke      dragon appears, not from his wand, but from the air around them, and flies      in a lazy circle around the ghost and warlock.

                                                        “This is my magic, my real magic.”

[katiemcgrath]

is all we have left of these b r o k e n memories

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druiidboy:

Being able to talk with his mind, put Mordred at ease. He felt much more in control of his words, his thoughts, what was said when he didn’t have to say it out loud. He felt more confident. He was comfortable. His comfort came from wanting to be able to talk, but being quieted so often and talking with his mind meant no one could control his voice in such a way.

He nodded. He wondered how well the man knew the person. Death wasn’t easy on anyone. Mordred knew, he was an orphan, and he did know that his parents died. He was too small to remember any details, but he knew he was alone, except this man seemed to make him feel less so.

Mordred listened as he sat in front of him. Mordred assumed that must have been the ability that Merlin assumed he had earlier. He supposed it wouldn’t be a far stretch to do that, but Mordred was a firm believer in people making their own choices, and judged by their actions. He shouldn’t need to control anyone, nor would he ever want to.

His eyes narrowed, but only slightly, and out of confusion, “If it faded, why can I do it, why can you do it?” He paused, “Professor, how old are you?” He determined the man had to be a professor so there was no reason in his mind to not call him that.

                          “Sometimes things we thought were gone have a habit of cropping up again,” he explained. “Someone, long ago, in your family could probably speak like this,” he said, weaving a believable story out of half truths and old tale. “Same for my family. My father could do it, so I can do it and long long long ago someone else in our family could do it too.”

                          He wanted to tell Mordred the truth, but that wasn’t something to do right now. There were too many variables and what ifs and Mordred was just a BOY. He deserved to live a life without things like destiny hanging over his head. Merlin wasn’t going to drop that weight on him. Not yet. There was so much more he still had to figure out first.

                          At the second question, Merlin had to pause. Did he lie? did he give half truths? Did he just change the topic all together? 

                          “Older than I look,” he finally thought with a small smile. “But I’m not a professor. I’m a friend of Hogwarts and its students.” He leaned forward. “There’s a saying, that help will always find those who need it at Hogwarts, Mordred.”

[highwarlockemrys]

I am a sorcerer. I have magic.

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undercamelot:

Kilgharrah instinctually tensed and eyes widened ever so slightly feeling the hand on his back. It was not that he did not enjoy the touch, rather, he was not used to it. His parents never rewarded him with physical affection, therefore he was simply not used to even a resting touch on his shoulder. He  visibly paused as he visibly studied Merlin’s face as the words sunk in. The reborn dragon gave a nod of his head eventually in response, “I thank you for your kind words. It is quite reassuring to hear that my presence in this world is welcomed either way,” though for Merlin’s sake he did wish that his presence was a herald for something much greater.

He slowly nodded his head once more since it made perfect sense for a dragon and a human to have an occasional disagreement. Dragons were notoriously proud creatures  that did not take well to other beings voicing opinions that were adverse to their advice. A relationship with such beings could not have been easy. “Despite the disagreements I can already tell you that I was honored to call you my friend, just as I am honored to call you my friend now,” he murmured. Merlin was a new friend, yet a friend all the same.

Kilgharrah noticed Merlin discretely putting his wand away, yet did not make a comment upon it. He was not one to pry. Surprise was more than evident upon his face when Merlin asked him to tell him about himself, no one cared to know  the details about his life. Students at Hogwarts were content to live with a persona they weaved about him rather than know him in actuality. It was far more glorious to think of him as a star Quidditch player and a prodigy at magic than a  person with a compelling past and tangible life. 

“My family proudly traces our heritage to the Dovah do sot Por, or ‘The Dragons of the White Isle’ in English. Such  strong ties has encouraged my family to stay faithful to the  Old Religion when the majority of the world forgot such a  way of life exists. Needless to say I had an unconventional childhood that was focused more on knowledge, innate magic, and the past rather than playing games and being with other children. It was rather isolating to say the least,” he drew in a breath and took a silent moment to reflect upon his life, “Hogwarts is the first time I have been around other people my age. Being here has been an entirely different learning experience. To appear somewhat normal I have tried to keep my Second Sight unknown to the other students… they do not react well to innate magic. I am also the Seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, which has  won me the favor of the other students, much to my relief.”

     Merlin was careful to retract his hand as the boy startled. It wasn’t      meant to shock him, but Merlin wasn’t going to risk offending him.      He made a mental note to be careful about that from now on, just in      case. But as Kilgharrah relaxed, so did Merlin. “Thank you,” he      said smile soft and true. 

     He hadn’t expected to come across any old friends here, least of all      Kilgharrah, but Merlin couldn’t deny how pleased he was that it’d      happened. He might not remember him, but Merlin could be himself.      It was a rare allowance these days. 

     He attentively listened as Kilgharrah spoke abut his life, his magic. In      some ways, it didn’t seem so different from the other young purebloods,      but there was no denying that the Old Religion and old destinies had had      their effect on his life even now. But the innate magic, his Second Sight,      Merlin could understand all too easily what hiding that ability must be like.       Finally finding the place you belong in and still needing to hide away a part      of what makes you you.

     “I was never much of a flier,” Merlin laughed. “Quidditch wasn’t exactly      in play when I went to Hogwarts. But there were some older games in       practice then, variants of Shuntbumps and Aingingein. I was never much      good.” Arthur had always been the competitor, not Merlin. 

     He leaned back in the grass, propping himself up on his elbows, and gave       the boy a considering look. “Your Second Sight.... You see the future?”

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wildmoored:

He hummed thoughtfully, half-cocking his head to the side.  Then, he chuckled.

“Might be odd for me to say this, given it’s not my reputation, but don’t apologize for being curious.

Anyway - yes and no.  Magic is, at its most base, magic - wherever you go and how you interpret it.  But consider for a moment the nature behind something like a Patronus charm and that of blood magic.   These are both forms of magic with different incantations and external results.  But the soul of these magics – the bit of ourselves which we must draw forth to use them – these could not be any more dissimilar.  

It is a little hard to explain without going into some very long stories… but magic has a soul, I think, not quite the same way we do, but in a way unique to itself.  Have you ever gone to a new city or a new country and felt as if the air itself was charged with a different energy than in your home?  Sometimes this is mere exuberance, and sometimes it’s something much more … innate.”

    Merlin listened intently, perhaps far more so than an ordinary seventh year     might as Godric explained. He wanted to understand the magic he wielded.     The masters, the students, they relied on their wands to channel the magic     inside them, but Merlin had had to physically learn to do so, to not rely on     his old magic. 

            His spells were often strange; the intent accurate, but the method             dissimilar to his peers. Were they really two parts of a whole? Or             conflicting energies, souls that didn’t quite mesh? 

    “The apology was more for taking up your time,” he laughed. “I think Lady     Ravenclaw would have my head if I apologized for any measure of curiosity.” 

            He cocked his head to the side. “So can there be more than one             kind of magical soul out there? Or are charms and blood spells as             different as it gets?”

[misspendragon]

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apurekindness:

             “Well yes, Druid is accurate,” she agreed, still in shock that               she had met another with magic. In all the hours she had spent               in the hospital, she had never encountered anyone like her! 

                          “Emrys?” she repeated; the name sounded strangely                             familiar to her…but she was certain that she had never                             met him before. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too! And                             Kiara is just fine.” 

     Merlin ran a hand through dark hair, his smile never once fading.      He leaned comfortably back against the door, letting Kiara have      the room to work if she still needed it and ensuring their privacy. 

        “Kiara it is then. It’s funny. I had popped in here to see            if I could help, and never once thought someone’d beat me            to it.” He gestured with a nod towards the hall. “When            you’re done, maybe we could talk somewhere else?”

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Gaius: Merlin, please keep an eye on Arthur today. He’s going to say something to the wrong person and get himself punched.

Merlin: Sure, I’d love to see Arthur get punched.

Gaius: Try again.

Merlin: I will stop Arthur from getting punched.

[hudoliiaeth]

                                           "It’s l o n e l y.                                                  To be more powerful                                                  than any man you know,                                                 and have to live like a shadow.“ 

Run Boy Run // Monster //  Illuminated // Somewhere Only we Know // The Cave // Bastille // To Build a Home // Fix You // I See Fire // Things we Lost in the Fire 

listen

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     out of magic;; whoops, sorry for the unintended mini-hiatus there guys.       my mom had vacation so any downtime I had was spent over on my main.       Going to get to queuing up some replies and refilling the queue <3