okay somebody needs to know this;
To the person who keeps putting fucking Merlin quotes in my locker: I see you, I hate you, but I see you
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okay somebody needs to know this;
To the person who keeps putting fucking Merlin quotes in my locker: I see you, I hate you, but I see you

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The Witching Hour: Spooky BBC Merlin Fic Recs
A Modern Pygmalion by supercalvin
A Warlock's Blood by Lullabylily
Ain't No Grave (Can Hold Me) by Val_Creative
All the Dead Are Here by Footloose
all our dead, unfinished selves by schweet_heart
An Ox on the Tongue by seapotato
and with my opened mouth i join the singing light by intothefirewego
Death is Only the Beginning by Val_Creative
Deliquesce by BeautifulFiction
Dying to Return by StormDancer
Feeding Grounds by N16Ā [gen]
From Darkness Comes Light by beren
From The Ashes by RandomSlasher
Gibraltar May Tumble by shes_gone
Grave Mistake by kickflaw
Haunted Ride by Sage_Owl
How It Will Be by Trojie.Ā
Hunter's Blood by Shadecat
I'll Be Your Fire (The Dragon Dream Remix) by claudine
In It For The Thrill by TheCourtSorcerer
Into the Dark by kriadydragon
i will always pick you up by daffodilprince
It Will Have Blood by kayura_sanada
London Tower by significantowl
Mating Call by orphan_account
My Breath In Your Lungs by Zaharya
Quickening Days by Fahye
Resurgam by La_Temperanza
Seeds of Darkness by N16 [gen]
The Devil's Table by kriadydragon [gen]
The Beast of Winter by linaerys
The Fallen by ArtemisPendragon
The Kingcraft of Arthur Pendragon by SauraUnderscore
The Maze of Malus by beckybrit
The Tomb by kriadydragon [gen]
The Washerwoman by schweet_heart
You Can Be King Again by asuralucier
i donāt think we thank Florence Welch enough for her ability to capture beautiful madness
Two Sides of the Same Snowflake
Jack knows cold.
His knowledge of it is as deep as his understanding of himself, perhaps even more so. Itās as much a part of him as he is a part of it, veins of ancient magic as old as the seasons, threaded and tangled and weaved until given form of a boy that really isnāt. Such threads and knots make Jackson as much an Overland as it makes him Jack Frost: He is Magic and he is Winter, which is to say the same thing, gifted and cursed with human body. Or as human as Jack can appear like.
To Jack, cold has always been home, like his mother. Like his sister. Like his king.
Jack feels the cold with a sense of comfort, a blanket that layers under his skin, beyond his physical body, although he enjoys it perfectly well that way, too. He feels cold as one would feel oneās own arm or leg, except everywhere, all at once. Itās beautiful. Until it isnāt.
Jack stares at the discolored tint Hiccupās body has been steadily taking over the last two days, bleaching away his red-colored cheeks. Theyāve taken to a sickening mix of pale yellowās and bruised blueās and ashy whiteās to itāand those are Jackās colors, the ones Jack wears with pride, like they were made for him and him only.
Jackās gaze is fixed in front of him, focused hard at the way the metal chest plate goes up, so agonizingly slowlyā¦and down, again. Then, there will be a moment of silence and nothing at all, and Jack doesnāt know, Jack doesnāt know if this one will finally be his friendās last breath.
Jack doesnāt blink. Time slows, looses itās meaning. His breath is kept tight under lock, not daring to miss a single moment to himself. He does not matter, right now. Only Hiccup does.
Hiccupās chest rises up once more, defying death with every moment, and Jack feels like crying. All the senses of the word can not encapsulate his living grief.
Yes, Jack thinks, he thought he knew cold. Turns out he doesnāt, not at all.
He understands, now, why there are people who come to detest it. Itās cold, and for once, Jack is too.
In honor of the tenth year anniversary of the series finale and inspired by @alkalinefrogĀ ās art stream, have a hijack moment turned merlin bbc. :) (I apologize for the people who came looking for actual Merlin content, I just had to, as my other fave dumb magical/noble people that belong to the past)
i love that gwen won by being the heart of the show. literally the embodiment of social mobility based on merit, the true reason albion exists at all on a mythological perspective. who changed the world? gwen who is always gonna be famous? GWEN

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How often did he do this ā once a week, one a month, once a year? How often? How long had Merlin toyed with his own death, the only living-dead creature on this planet, more dead than alive in every sense of the word?
Some of his horror must have shown on his face for Merlinās expression hardened. The man suddenly came alive with unbidden emotion ā more emotion than any human had any right to bear, really.
āDonāt you ā donāt you dare, Arthur. Donāt you dare judge me, donāt you dare think that Iā that I should have held on, that I had no right, when you, of all people, did not have the right of dying in the first place, Iā You left me on my own, the lot of you.ā Tears flowed from his eyes in a constant stream, breaking his voice, his words, his old-english tongue to a strange mixture of time-past dialects Arthur only managed to understand by virtue of the intense feelings he infused into them. āLeft me to live. They denied my right to die, and I had to go on, and wait, wait for you, wait for a time no prophet could ever hint at, and what was I left to to then? Guess? Put my faith in what? You? Magic? Kilgarrah? Kilgarrah died, and soon did also Aithusa, and that was the end of the Age of Dragons. And I thought ā oh, maybe now heāll come back, to bring back the balance. But you didnāt. Then the Norse came, and I thought it was the time. I built up your legacy, the resistance, and promised them that youād come. But you didnāt. The Romans destroyed our way of life. Still, you werenāt there. Christians tore down the last vestiges of the Old Religion. The Norse again, and Normans followed, and still I stood alone, promising the return of the great king who would bring peace to Albion. You never did. Our way of life changed, our tongue changed, our culture and science and time passed and still you slept. Wars came, too many of them now for me to count, or to count even then. Slowly the realisation came ā you wouldnāt come back, would you? And you didnāt. Our people, our kings, they all turned into savage beasts of mass destruction. Genocide on new discovered lands, slavery, and there I was, left on my own, unable to stop it. Magic dwindled. I only met a couple of magic users in a lifetime, and I could not protect them. Then came the first world war ā and I was sure, I was so sure this would be the time, I thought ā oh, what came before never came close to this destruction. The Sidhe will surely bring him back to me. But you didnāt. And then I understood, and I wish it could have killed me, the mere realisation, especially when the second war came and I saw the sheer horror you would never be there to stop. And how could you? What could one man do to save millions of people from death camps, only supported by the weight of an old forgotten legend? The memory of you had faded, a simple childrenās tale, and that was all I had left to do now, wasnāt it? Keep your memory alive, find my way back in time for a few traces of you, to keep and cherish and protect. For nothing, I realised. What could a private museum of Arthuriana artefacts do to protect Albion? It isnāt Albion anymore. It never was. All along, all of my youth, a complicated lie that had me cower in fear and bring down the extinction of my people. It was all my doing. Then and now Albion brings war on the Middle East, the world is plagued with a pandemic, and soon enough we will know of a flood not even my powers could prevent. No, Arthur ā do not judge me for wanting to die, for wanting to hide from whatever the future holds of that same nothingness that has followed me for one thousand, five-hundred and thirty-five years.ā
Merlin took one long, shuddering breath, and opened his mouth to continue but couldnāt find his voice; instead, a long wail had him hide his face in his hands.
Just a little snippet of the os iām currently working on, where Merlin canāt stop holding on to Arthur because a thousand, five-hundred and thirty-five years is a hell of aĀ longĀ time to be alive. Aka, that one touch-starved!Merlin fic Iāve been thinking of for about eight years.Ā
The sorceresses are cheerleaders. Yay or nay?
Yay! They are actually!
Yennefer is Cheer Captain and is honestly such a basket case for a cheer cap.
Fringilla was originally gonna be Cheer Captain until Yennefer stole her spot.
Triss is just vibing. No drama. Just busting out laughing during practice if one of the jocks eat shit (usually Lambert because, well, it's Lambert).
I haven't figured out the rest of the MBBC's (Magic Bad Bitch Club) roles are, so just know they are all cheerleaders.
Been thinking of some characters I havenāt drawn in a while, some are new though.