Prompt 6: Trial

Chapter two has just been posted! I hope you enjoy it! :D

YES!! I love this!

I will always go feral for Emrys's true form being something distinctly non-human, as Emrys is magic itself. Normally, I see that interpreted as Merlin's true form as Emrys being a giant, powerful creature, but this is the first time I've seen a version of that where Emrys makes himself smaller in a certain situation. I love it!

of the old religion

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.

My Epic the Musical obsession has been violently reawakened after the Vengeance Saga, and I felt the need to make this:

"John Wick brutally murdered everyone who broke into his home and killed his pet, and everyone in the audience cheers him on. But when I, Polyphemus, do the same, I am called a 'monster who killed a beloved character'. What a double standard!"

THIS!! YESSSSS!!

This right here is my favorite Merthur dynamic, hands down! Because what is a king to a god? Nothing but an insect, unless that king's name is Arthur and that god's name is Emrys. In that case, then a king is everything to a god.

One scenario that I'd love to incorporate into a fic one day is Merlin, in a sort of eldritch form as Emrys that looks like a floating tangle of golden tendrils that dwarfs the castle itself, gently holding Arthur.

Just, Merlin being a giant eldritch unknowable creature that is all-powerful and capable of breaking a mortal's mind if they so much as looked at him, cradling Arthur and holding him close. Because it doesn't matter if Merlin is an eldritch god or not, Arthur will always be his king, his friend, his everything.

don’t mind me I’m just thinking about how crazy it would be to have a devoted servant who you trusted above all others and who was happy — honored, even — to spend their life kneeling at your feet like a loyal dog. and then one day it turns out that your servant is actually God, like capital-G God, making you not just God’s favorite, but the object of God’s worship: a holy figure to the literal divine.

Say yes to the dress💅

Hi! I just wanted to let you know that I've been reading your work lately, and I really love it.

They manage to bring tears and laughter to my eyes at the right times. Really cute when they're right and they're definitely my shot of happiness for the day.

So, I don't know, but I got to thinking, because I think you might be one of the people who can elaborate more on the idea I had in mind.

Idea:

Basically… Mordred meets Merlin before canon - Mordred for this story is younger, almost 3 years old -, and decides to simply self-adopt. Because he's a determined toodler.

Only because the druids who were taking care of him, after telling him high praises about Emrys and such, fell asleep. Leaving a little baby Modred completely fascinated and literally wishing to always be with Emrys.

That, without counting that he had heard from other druids that the boy Merlin of Camelot was the young man of the prophecies.

It wasn't much science, he put the pieces together and knew where he had to go… he just had to close his eyes, the magic basically spat him out in the castle courtyard.

Literally.

One day, out of nowhere, he came out from somewhere in the castle with his sleeping blanket, he kindly asked one of the servants to take him to his father Merlin, and he didn't stop insisting until someone took him to Merlin. Who was attending to Arthur.

Merlin, who literally doesn't know when he had a child, because he definitely knows that he was never with anyone, but that child looks so determined that he even begins to doubt his virginity.

"Can babies be created by magic? Gaius!!! Stop laughing at that!!"

The fact that Mordred is a half-breed version of Merlin physically speaking doesn't help much either. Everyone in the castle really takes it as a reality, even more so after the innkeeper came to the castle to collect some bills and publicly said that Merlin had never set foot in his establishment.

He was even surprised to see him saying that he had never seen him in his life.

So, that confession, the physical resemblance and a completely determined baby were enough for everyone in the palace, including Uther, to put two and two together and create the crazy idea that Merlin's escapades were to be with the baby's mother.

Now Merlin, who doesn't know when, finds himself in the need to take care of a baby who is his complete shadow. Who looks at him with such adoration that he follows him everywhere, and it seems that he has magic because strange things happen when Mordred is around.

I love the image of little baby Mordred deciding that he's Merlin's son now and no one can stop him! This prompt has a lot of crack humor energy, but what might make it angsty was if Mordred, after being accepted as Merlin's son for several years, suddenly had his magic revealed. Now Arthur is faced with the decision between his father's laws or his best friend's son, and that would force Arthur to think critically and ask "wait, if no one taught him magic (because who on earth be stupid enough to do that in Camelot?), then how can this little boy do magic?" This could lead to Arthur realizing that magic isn't always a choice, forcing him to reevaluate the magic ban.

I also absolutely loved Merlin's own doubt of "well maybe he is my son, I have no clue how my own magic works!" 🤣

Continuation Poll Time!

Hello everyone! Thank you all again for the amazing support you've given my last few au ideas! I'm finishing up the next chapter of my "Eldritch Merlin befriends an anxious Leon" fic (which I've procrastinated on for far too long now 😭), so the next chapter of that will hopefully be up some time today or tomorrow!

After I post the next chapter of that, I want to do a continuation post of one of the au's that I posted recently! I'll probably continue all of these at some point, but I want to know which one you guys would like to see first! So...

All links to these au's can be found on my Masterpost here! I'm looking forward to seeing what you all pick! :D

An AU where Arthur knows about Merlin’s magic and is utterly amazed by his powers.

Merlin, waking Arthur up one day: Hey, the gods said that it's my turn on the throne.

Arthur, still sleepy: What the hell are you going on about?

Merlin: I'm not really happy about it, but the gods said that their decision is final >:(

Arthur: ???

Gwaine, from the hallway: Are we doing a Merlin coup?! :D

if you ask me, the guy who put the sword INTO the stone should be king, not the chucklefuck who got it out.

Brining this one back for funsies because I'm thinking about the finale again and the whole butterfly symbolism always fucks me up.

A random thought on the ending of Merlin (since it haunts me all the time): there are many species of butterflies that are known to feed on corpses for nutrients. Merlin's main symbol in the finale, the symbol of his own self-acceptance and reclaiming himself from the claws of destiny, was a bright blue butterfly, a symbol of death and rebirth.

The image of it is striking for me: Merlin, symbolized by the butterfly, finally accepting himself, only for those same butterflies to turn around and feed on Arthur's corpse while waiting for Arthur himself to be reborn.

I'm insane about this show, if you couldn't already tell.