#magic drafting

[teehee-vibes]

Hey gang. What if Indie Cross was a Dungeons and Dragons campaign?

[snelbies]

a new order

[chickren]

the way that jaime and brienne are created to be unobtainable to each other is so damned delicious

brienne is the embodiment of virtue. so naturally she thinks jaime is an utter reprobate. irredeemable. and if she didn’t already know more of jaime’s crimes than anyone else on earth, he makes sure she knows the ones no one else ever pinned on him, like rossart. but the thing is, he longs to be considered just. he is dying to be thought honorable.

it rarely comes up in his chapters, but everyone else in the universe knows that he could have basically any woman he wanted. the only time you hear him even vaguely imply it is with catelyn, but it’s a known thing. then he encounters brienne. and she sits there, judging him, obviously wishing she had an excuse to kill him herself. she is not playing hard to get, she actually is impossible for him to get. how could this honorless criminal hope to tempt her? she is beyond his reach.

then you have jaime. a legendary beauty. born the heir to a great house, the most powerful house. he is considered the greatest swordsman in the land. and to top it all off, he’s not only a member of the kingsguard but is the lord commander. he’s both what brienne wants to be and what she wants to fuck.

and he immediately confirms for brienne that he thinks what everyone thinks: she’s ugly. she’s a woman in breeches who fights like a knight, which is grounds for more than half the people she meets to disdain her. and the things that might make her an attractive mate to some men are meaningless to jaime—her inheritance is inconsequential to him, he gave away more power than her lesser house would ever possess. he’s completely out of her league.

so what happens when you tell someone that something’s off-limits? when you say: “them? you can never have them.”

[counting-stars-gayly]

Sometimes, I think about how Merlin purposefully turned Arthur against magic twice—the first time to save his soul and the second to save his life—so when he finally told Arthur he was a sorcerer, it was the ultimate bamboozle.

“How could the bumbling idiot I’ve known all these years have been my greatest protector the whole time?” Yeah, sure. But also: “How could a sorcerer have chosen me over magic? Over his own freedom and the freedom of those like him? Over the gods who created him and the religion that saves him?” It’s one thing to die for someone and another thing entirely to give up who you are for them.

Obviously, Merlin was wrong, and that’s why playing God had an effect opposite to what he’d intended. But I think it’s so interesting to consider how Arthur might have viewed this confession. He was betrayed by Morgana because she loved herself more than her own brother and betrayed by Uther because he loved himself more than his own son. And all of this while Merlin, at first, fell in love with the cause and, then, even more with the man behind it. His loyalty to and love for Arthur was so pure it turned sinful, and I don’t think Arthur would have ever gotten over that. If he hadn’t died.

[galactic-rhea]

I was thinking back of some of the concept art for Encanto I always loved and... Long rambling ahead.

YUP! I remain obssesed wiwth it, especially the first one, the black butterflies!! In many latinoamerican countries (including mine) black butterflies in a home are a bad omen, to the point there's people absolutely scared of them (I have met a few, personaly); so the incorporation to it not only gives such a creepy image, but is an awesome call back to the culture.

The one where is raining on Mirabel's side of the house is also a perfect example of Magical Realism; the author whose work was first referred to as magical realism (in literature) had a short story called The Rain, in the story, the rain represents love, it doesn't really have much to do with the story in Encanto or the concept art on itself, just something that I remembered.

In Hundred years of Solitude, it rains for four years and the rain starts eating away the Buendías's house and destroying their fortune, and the decline of the house is what start of the town's decline as they're linked to the family.

I always said that Encanto was like a super sanitized and family friendly version of Hundred years of Solitude, and honestly I can see that a lot in the concept art, much more easily than in the movie

And to me, the biggest expression of Magical Realism in the concept art, is this one:

the mundane mixing with the nonsensical and magic, but the being accepted as part of the natural world without further questioning. And here's more of this on other of the concept art:

Magical realism as a term started being referred to art styles that depict something that objetively normal, has an uncanny element and often somewhat satirical. However, as a genre in literature, it started in Latin America, inspired by surrealism.

Is not just magic, is magic within a mundane world and being accepted as part of their lives. Latinoamerican literature tends to be fatallistic and crude; and magical realism follows similar steps, because the fantasy element isn't taken as something grandiose and something capable of solving every problem; the contrary, it just becomes something that just happens, and life goes on, and this usually means tragedy and death as well.

The magic isn't the cause, nor the solution, not even helpful because these stories kept on being harsh and sometimes cruel, in a sense Magical Realism reminds me more of Gothic Horror than Fantasy. Thousands years of solitude has these magic, fantastic elements, but it keeps on being a tale of the cyclical misery of the Buendías, that doesn't end until their entire destruction along with Macondo.

The Buendías aren't even meant to be liked (as in, good people), because they're supposed to be a selfish self-obssesed, land owners and the elite group that ruins the lives of others and keep digging their own graves.

For another example, the story that i mentioned, The Rain not only has a social commentary, but it ends in a very bitter sweet note, with a couple finally seeing the rain after a drought, but losing the kid that magically rekindled their love for each other. A lot of latinoamerican literature ends with painfully bittersweet, if not outright hopeless endings (Chronicle of a Death Foretold literally tells you, just with the title, what you will get into. Is a very cruel story and it has zero closure, the original "Dead dove do not eat/I don't know what i was expecting". Another example, Dead Houses is...well, is a bit more hopeful, but the cruelty is there and right on the face.)

Neither of these things fit very well for a disney family friendly movie, but just the fact they dared to show us Pedro's death and it being the origin of Encanto is a good enough attempt.

And a lot of these concept art does give a very dark tone, visually. I can see the attempt at trying to mix the whimsical of usual disney movies and the crudeness of the genre it takes its inspiration.

Another little bits that make me think of Encanto and Hundred Years of Solicitude, is that something important in the novel's narrative, is that Macondo is kinda trapped in time, both because of how remote the town is, but also because of the magic element; the huge impact of the town when outsiders and new technology arrives sometimes is taken as another magic element (they see ice, and believe it must be magic). Encanto has a similar setting, the exact time is taking place is hard to determine and there's some anacronisms. And also, the soap opera that Bruno's rats are "playing" is literally a nod to two characters in TYS; Amaranta Úrsula and Aureliano.

In the final version of the movie, some of these vibes the concept art shows was lost, but at its core it retains the key elements of magical realism! However, sometimes I wonder what would have someone like Guillermo del Toro done with the basic plot of Encanto, I have the strong suspicion that we would have ended with something much, much closer to actual magical realism

Ending this with, idk, watch Encanto. Or even better, read some latinoamerican literature (besides Gabriel García Márquez, whom I have a beef with. Can I suggest Julio Córtazar, Pilar Romero, Isabel Allende, Liliana Bodoc, Angelica Gorodischer, Juan Rulfo, Miguel Otero Silva, and Horacio Quiroga?)

[vivitalks]

of course evan kelmp knows a ton of trivia. of course he can regurgitate academic facts at the drop of a hat. this is a seventeen year old kid without a family or home, whose belongings all fit in a grocery bag. evan kelmp is a fucking library kid. evan kelmp spends his days at the one place that won't turn him away, that doesn't shut him out for being poor or grimy or just plain unnerving, and he reads because it's a way to pass the time. he so rarely talks to anyone because people so rarely talk to him; he has zero social skills to speak of, but he can kill a few hours every day just devouring the ornithology section, and for evan, that's as close as he ever gets to comfort.

[haveihitanerve]

Gotham Protects Her Own

“Gotham protects her own.” Bruce had whispered to him once, in a, at the time, not so rare moment of affection, cradling dick to his chest as they looked over his city. Their city. Batman and Robin. Dick had believed him, of course, but he hadn’t really felt it. Not until he had stood at the bats side for the second year in a row, and his cape had fluttered. Dicks cape had never fluttered while he was standing. Running across the rooftops? Sure. Jumping over a chimney? Most definitely. But just standing still, no movement? It had never happened. Bruce’s did, from the very beginning Bruce’s cape had flown behind him, flapping with grace in the wind that was not there. But dicks hadn’t. But now… Bruce smiled down at him, pride lining every line in his face, before he took off across the roof, a challenge and a test at the same time. Dick chased after him, and for the first time since he had become Robin, he flew. His feet barely touched down, cushioned by the roofs, by shadows, and he laughed, wild and bright and free, and Bruce joined him, laugh deep and rich and full. Dick belonged to Gotham now, the city had laid her claim on him, and as Batman and Robin flew across the city, Dick could hear a new laugh join them, light and happy and feminine, delighted by their delight, their acceptance. Gotham protects her own, and Dick Grayson-Wayne, the first Robin, had earned that right, that protection, with his leaps and jokes and belief in Batman, in a belief in the city, in the belief that it could be better. 

Gotham protects her own. Catherine Todd had murmured to him once, late one night, a bruise blossoming on her cheek, eyes heavy from drugs. She was close to death, Jason could feel it practically wafting off her, and he didn't think much of her last words, a hazy drugged hallucination, slurred speech. But then she had passed and Jason had left, choosing the street over his father and then he had understood. People came looking for him, naturally, even his father ventured out, but shadows seemed to envelop him, the streets opened to his footfalls, and he always found a safe place to sleep, never waking with his things stolen or suddenly kidnapped. Jason could feel the city, his very lifeblood, could hear her music in her traffic, felt her song in the earthquakes. Gotham cradled him, sheltered him, and when the time came, pushed him to a left unattended Batmobile, tempting him to steal the tires. For the first time, Jason doubted his city, hated her for sending him into a trap. But then he became Robin, and Gotham squealed in delight, and Jason watched in awe as Bruce flew, as Gotham made his cloak billow, as she nurtured her prodigal son. Batman had gotten injured, once, badly enough that he had struggled with his grapple line, and it had snapped. Jason had screamed, lunging for him, but it was too late. Before he could cry over the dead body of his mentor, he found Bruce at the bottom of the building, not much worse for wear at all. Gotham had cradled him, shadows leaping to cushion his fall. Jason had laughed with glee, rushing Bruce home as quickly as possible, and something had brushed his cheek, a faint kiss against his forehead. Gotham protects her own and Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin, had been born into that right, that protection, and felt her city pound through his body like blood, feeding his soul. 

Gotham protects her own. Tim had seen the slogan on a Wayne Enterprise billboard once, when he had been seven, an ad campaign promoting insurance and helpful housing. It had become a sort of mantra for him, something he whispered under his breath every time his father made a snide comment about Tim lacking proper talent or social skills, after every call his parents declined, after every fight that had him biting his lip to stop the tears and debate running away. Gotham protects her own. Became his lifeline, his mantra, a promise of a better life. It wasn't anything he ever believed, until he finally worked up the courage to approach Bruce Wayne about the secret. Tim slipped on the Robin uniform for the first time… And something inside him settled. A woman's voice in the back of Tim’s head squealed. But as he raced over the rooftops, finally at Batman's side as he always dreamed to be instead of a few feet behind, snapping pictures, his cape dancing with the wind, his feet hardly touching down, that mantra, that false belief of hope, of a better life, became truth. Gotham protects her own, and Tim Drake-Wayne, the third Robin, had believed in that truth his whole life, wishing with every fiber of his being that she would protect him, and she finally had. 

Gotham protects her own. David Cain had warned her once, telling her great stories of the city with air of midnight black, of water a putrid green, and of a people a hardy and tough. It hadn't been a compliment, just another obstacle she would need to overcome to fulfill her future missions. She had believed him, of course, but… she had never truly known what it meant. Not until she had stumbled into the city, hurt, bleeding, afraid, and she had felt that… otherworldly power. Reaching for her. Its tendrils soft and kind, like a mother, shadows stretching across her, shielding her, as the League prowled the streets. It wasn't until she saw him. The Bat. And his little Bird, brutal efficiency and yet mercy in every action, wasn't until she saw how Gotham cradled them, lifted them, helped them to fly. Gotham had been more accepting to her than she had thought. Maybe because she hadn't hurt her children. Maybe because she knew her pain. Maybe because Cass had been so afraid. But whatever the reason, when Cassandra Cain-Wayne took to the streets, a proud, blazing Bat on her chest, her cape billowing behind her, Gotham sang. 

“Gotham protects her own!” Arthur Brown had screamed once. It had been in a fit of rage, followed by the sounds of windows crashing and tables smashing against the wall. He had been angry, livid even, the sound of his footsteps heavy and hard on the floor as he stormed around, pissed that Batman was unreachable for him, untouchable, protected by the city he claimed to do the same to. Steph knew the truth in the words, had been protected by them her whole life, finding a window open right when her father got home, the closet door unlocked miraculously after her father had locked her up, alleyways opening for her to escape through when bigger kids picked on her, or the cops chased her. And it happened now, as Arthur Brown came storming for her, rage and malice and every evil intention written across his features. Steph could feel that tug, that indescribable feeling of home, and she took a step back, melting into the shadows as she fled, fled her home, fled her father, fled his wrath and everything wrong with the world. She settled on the roof, the way she always did when he got like this, and waited, as she always did. For it to end. For him to stop. It was that night that she saw him for the first time. Steph had heard of him, of course, the Batman was infamous throughout Gotham by now, but she had never seen him in person. Never watched his work. It was at Bethany’s house. Bethany’s father, Vincent, was screaming again. The way Arthur was. But Gotham, Gotham didn't protect Bethany the way she did Steph. Or maybe Bethany just didn't listen. But Batman.. Batman listened. Batman protected. Steph watched, wide eyed, as he jumped through the window, as he grabbed Vincent by the throat and slammed him against the wall, snarling in his face. Steph watched, hands clutching her teddy, wondering whether she would rather risk her father than this demon. But he stopped. Paused. Threw Vincent to the ground in disgust, unconscious, and turned to Bethany. Beth had stopped moving, the way she always did when Vincent got the way he did, dissociating so she wouldn't feel his hands on her. Steph didn't think it worked, but it was something. Batman bent down, gentle, slowly, a few feet away, extending a hand to Beth. Steph couldn't hear what he said, couldn't see his face, but Beth blinked at him. She blinked, and she walked closer, slowly. And Batman… Batman held her, held her until she was crying, held her through her tears and wiped her eyes and rubbed her back, held her until she was asleep without nightmares, and carried her to bed, tucking her in gently. Steph didn't know how long she sat there, watching as he cared for this little girl, forgoing the Bat Symbol in the sky, and his anger, for her. Gotham protects her own, Steph swore as she watched him drop from the window the same night, flitting away on shadows only she could see. Gotham protects her own, and she would protect Gotham. She would mold herself after the Bat, and help. 

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

the thing about Lucanis and Spite is like. neither of them actually wanted to be there. and that is both how they were able to survive the melding and why they resent each other so much. Lucanis' banter about the Ossuary where he says to survive it he "Shut down completely. Think nothing. Feel nothing. Except what you need to escape." And when asked what's left he says "If you're lucky? Revenge. And bad dreams." like. he always had this core of his own personal spite down in him (not doing crow jobs the easy way, ignoring Caterina's summons, not embracing his future as a potential first talon, to "live truly is to live fully" but he HASN'T been allowed to and resents it, etc etc etc) but in the Ossuary he really hollows himself out into the perfect vessel, empties himself of everything but wanting to survive anyway. and "no one was in the Ossuary by choice, not even the demons" so of course he and Spite can agree on this One Thing. they make their deal that they're gonna make it through just because everyone else there is waiting for them to die, and of course they're not gonna just give them what they want. even if they're fighting each other the whole time (hence Lucanis being used to Spite 'hitting' him etc when he doesn't get what he wants), they still have this united purpose Every Day about getting through it. like it's utterly crucial that for both to survive at all the demon had to be something that wanted to defy what the venatori wanted from it.

and this is also why their relationship falls apart once they do escape, because without something else present to rail against every day, they have to turn on each other. and of course it is actually an absolutely miserable situation for both of them to be in--Lucanis is living the nightmare of his body being puppetted around without his consent, just like the blood magic he already had to endure under Zara, and can't ever be alone again even in his own mind. Spite is trapped in a world that no longer responds to his shaping, lacks the autonomy of a truly possessed host body, and can barely comprehend the new laws that govern the place he's in.

for both of them it's such an intense violation of being, and one I wish got more emphasis/recognition. it's really easy to make jokes about how Lucanis could be better at sharing/compromise with Spite more (like I make them too myself, it's easy) but really just... man. this isn't like with Anders & Justice, who agreed to their situation, or Wynne where Faith is content to be mostly a silent passenger and did it to save her life. Lucanis and Spite are suffering the most complete form of intimacy under the worst circumstances, and neither actually wanted it. which makes it honestly impressive at all that (unhardened) Lucanis & Spite are able to reach an accord at all by the end. like i'm glad that they did--and have SO many thoughts (& fanfic WIPs lol) exploring just how they managed to get there--but boy was it hard won, if you actually look deeper into it than the game has room to explore.

[ratwithhands]

We got Volo!! I've been thinking about Mahoumas again now that my school workload is lighter, so I finally got to draft Volo's champion design. Worst to ever do it, can't wait to draw him fighting our main duo.

Since I've had time to think about it, I've also done some more refining on where the magic comes from. Essentially in this AU, legendaries are such powerful divinities that just being in a place will cause immense damage to the nearby environment and creatures as a result of the energy they let off. In ancient times they would "resolve" conflicts by whaling on each other, which would obliterate any nearby settlements and mess up the ecosystem. Arceus then decided that the best way to protect all his children would just be to simply stop them from doing that by only allowing proxies to fight.

The basic idea is that a legendary has a divine champion (diplomatic assistant) that meets with the champions of others in order to discuss and settle issues. This ensures no region ending damage and also makes sure that decisions aren't rash, spur of the moment actions. The champions are protected under the rules too; once in contract to a legendary, they aren't to be attacked or harmed by other champions unless they've already been cleared and confirmed for trial by combat. There's some other specifics too but in essence they're basically just there to keep the peace and represent their divinity.

What makes Volo different (and such a pain to deal with) is that he's Giratina's first champion, so he got a lot more benefits that champions generally shouldn't have. Giratina had never had to set up a champion before, plus was excited to have one after eons, so Volo was lavishly spoiled. Since Giratina doesn't talk to other legendaries, he was also pretty much unchecked and just doing whatever he wanted without any regulation. This is a problem in general but it is especially troublesome when another champion (cough, Ingo) tries to revert the "corrections" he's making.

Anyways bonus doodle: since he was the first, Giratina wanted a little whimsy for him.

Let me know if you guys want to see more of this bastard, I'm off to take a nap

[rad-batson]

Headcanon that Billy is not only immune to the magical lightning that helps him transform, but he’s also immune to normal lightning and all other forms of electricity.

At first, the realization is super cool. Billy doesn’t get hurt by static electricity anymore. He’s immune to Freddy’s hand buzzer pranks. He even gets 200 bucks from some big shot teenagers that dared him to touch an electric fence.

The problem comes when he tries to catch the bus in the rain one day and gets struck by REAL lightning. In front of dozens of people. Who are not supposed to know he’s immune to lightning. And Billy is very bad at improv.

Billy: *gets struck by lightning*

Billy: WHAT THE F—

Everyone: O_O

Billy: Oooo ouchh

Billy: I am in so much pain

[heatherwitch]

Bedridden witch: Seasons edition

I made a series for The Wheel of the Year many years ago but I realize that not everyone follows it and dividing suggestions into the four seasons as well might be more helpful for some!

Spring 🌿

Collect the first rain of the season and keep it in a jar

Drink floral or fruit teas

Burn floral or fruit scented candles

Light a candle or turn on an electric candle.

Open the curtains to let light in. 

Visualize a light cleaning each and every room in your home.

Decorate with dried, fresh or fake flowers.

Spray a cleansing spray throughout your bedroom.

Clean an area in your home, big or small. (It could be as simple as making a pile of trash so it’s easier to move later.)

Bathe yourself (either in the tub or sponge bath style). Infuse some herbs/flowers into the water!

Water your plants and whisper blessings to them.

Plant something new! It can be as simple as a beansprout in a paper cup.

Meditate and imagine yourself out in your favorite area in spring.

Make a terrarium.

Spray floral water in the air and on your bedsheets.

Watch for and welcome the returning birds

Learn about local plants.

Crack open all your windows to let in some fresh air.

Bedridden witch: Garden edition

Summer ☀️

Make sun water/tea

Drink fruit teas, infused water or juices

Burn floral or fruit candles

Decorate with flowers and crystals.

Wake up earlier than usual to enjoy a full day of light.

Try to be awake and witness both the sunrise and sunset.

Decorate your windows with rainbow prisms.

Make flower crowns with fresh, dried or paper flowers.

Make sure sunlight and fresh air can reach you.

Enjoy some fresh fruits, veggies, nuts and seeds.

Decorate with/wear/create things with bright colors:

Decorate a new pot for your plants (painting, sharpies, ribbons, etc.)

If you can, put a bird feeder outside your window or just watch them as they fly by.

Pour an offering of water for the plants (indoors, outside or out the window).

Have a picnic (outside, on the kitchen floor or in bed).

Find a way to incorporate honey into your day (scrubs, food, tea, etc.)

Burn beeswax candles.

Listen to music that just sounds like summertime.

Autumn 🍂

Collect the first rain of the season and keep it in a jar

Drink spiced tea, apple ciders

Infuse berries into water.

Burn spiced, woodsy or autumn scented candles

Eat things like breads, nuts, grapes, pomegranates, pies, apples and root vegetables.

Start a new project like crocheting or knitting. This is also a great time to finish that project you’ve been avoiding.

Wear and decorate and create with browns, golds, dark greens, oranges and yellows.

Decorate your home to make it look more like Autumn (fake or real leaves, acorns, paper cutouts, etc.)

Create a picnic/feast wherever is reasonable, with a little bit of everything.

Pull up a video of leaves falling or a fire crackling.

Pumpkin pie, pumpkin spiced-things, pumpkin seeds.

Decorate with small pumpkins, paint them or draw on them if carving is too high-energy.

Create an altar honoring loved ones who have passed on, either a material one or a photo album online.

Pull up a video of a burning fire or light candles.

Turn off all of the lights and sit/lay in darkness.

Visualize your wards and boost your home protection.

Do spirit work/leave offerings for the spirits.

Burn incense/make a spray that smells of spices (cloves, basil, etc.)

Watch spooky/witchy movies.

Winter ❄️

Collect the first snow/make snow water and keep it in a jar

Drink seasonal teas, ciders and hot cocoa

Burn spruce, pine or winter scented candles

Watch gifs/videos of snow, ice forming, fire crackling, etc.

Get/make a small wreath and keep it indoors!

Keep clear quartz and snowflake obsidian around.

Make paper snowflakes! Or find an app/website where you can do a digital one.

Use your heat to draw sigils on frosted windows.

Put a bird feeder outside your window so you get winter visitors!

Get empty glass ornaments and fill them with herbs/pine needles/things that remind you of winter and hang them around.

Get some cute little snow globes. 

Decorate with winter colors! White, blue, silver, grey, dark green, etc.

Create an apple pomander with cloves or dried orange slices.

Decorate with evergreen boughs, holly, pine cones, etc.

Wash your face with snow/cold water.

Make rosehip, peppermint, vanilla, rooibos or spiced tea.

Step outside/open a window to feel the cold air (if you live somewhere warm, do this in the early morning/night).

Handcraft gifts for loved ones or write heartfelt cards/letters to the people you care about.

Put birdseed outside/a bird feeder by your window.

Make a simmer pot, or use this idea to create a scented spray.

Bedridden witch: Winter edition (more ideas in this post!)

You may also like:

Bedridden witch series

Bedridden witch: Wheel of the year edition

Bedridden witch: Elements edition

Bedridden witch: Weather edition

Bedridden witch: Nature edition

Witchcraft for the chronically fatigued

Spoonie witch masterpost

[likeprongstostars]

what if i OC-fy jegulus and call them like jack platter and reginald grey so they wont be recognised as characters from the hp franchise and the only people to know that im actually doing jegulus fanart will be the ppl that follow me... like an inside joke...

[lukazade]

don't have the time to go any further with this, take it as it is, amen <3

[thilsiktonix]

small little doodle page for you @niceguyanonymous !!!!!

((I tried my best, I'm not a very good writer, but I hope you like it <33 sorry I didn't put too much detail into this one, I wasn't sure how exactly to interpret it!))

[marcskywalker]

alright alright

Merlin has made a habit of laying protective charms and spells on Arthur's armor. The man is a big liability (king or not, Merlin will say it as it is). Running into danger head first, without thought or concern, is his top favorite activity.

It's what makes Arthur Arthur; his courage in the face of death.

So yes, it's become a necessity for Merlin to charm his armor for strength and endurance.

He decides to charm the King's new set of armors in his royal chamber in the middle of the day, while Arthur is away presumably listening to another one of mind numbingly boring reports from his knights.

What is a safer place for Merlin other than this room? Where else can he walk in as he pleases? Move about as he pleases? Leave a mess, jest around, lock the door and loiter as he pleases?

Within these walls, no one would dare to question him.

The King's trust is loud enough.

So, Merlin lays out all the metal on the floor and begins. He holds the cold, sharp chestpiece in his hand. Imagines Arthur under it; Arthur's beating heart and his warm, soft, breakable skin.

His magic flows out of him without command or permission, desperate to erase all the images of his mortal king bleeding and weak.

Oh, protectors of Earth and Magic! Cradle him as you would cradle your son.

His eyes are ember, words still on his lips, the shimmer of magic over the metal, when door swings open.

"Leon is one of my oldest and closest friends, but by Gods he makes me miserable," Arthur lets out a long breath, as if to blow out all the air in his body, looking right at Merlin as he does so.

The gold finally fades from his eyes but Merlin is frozen in place, his bones and breath refusing to move, watching Arthur's face scrunch in confusion, a myriad of feelings flashing through his face before settling on stern eyes and pursed lips.

"Mingling with the druids a lot now, are we?"

"Arthur, I-"

"I know, I know!" he sighs, commanding his face to neutrality, stepping over Merlin and metal towards his desk, "They are my people, too. You're allowed to trade and learn from each other."

Despite his resigned tone, Merlin knows how hard Arthur has worked to ensure a place for Druids in Camelot. Writing in stone, clear as day, that he is more than his father's son; he has claimed them as citizens of Camelot, opening the doors to courts and trade and provisions equally for all in the Kingdom.

Watching Arthur grow into the prophesied will be Merlin's greatest pride. Even if magic is still prohibited to practice under the law, magic users aren't hunted like animals for existing. And Merlin has all the faith in his King that when the time is right, he will bring magic back into the land. Until then, he's happy to live in half shadows.

"I'm allowed to learn magic?" he can't help the skepticism and shock bleed into his tone.

"Well, no! I'm not allowing you for anything, Merlin. But I'm not stupid enough to believe that that's about to stop you."

"So," he draws out the word, unsure of how to step out of the conversation. Unsure if he should even be stepping out of the conversation. "I can learn more magic?"

"You know how I feel about this. The price I have- we have had to pay for it. If you still find yourself curious, do what-" gestures to the laid out armor on the ground, "-ever this is. I only ask that you be careful."

"I'm enchanting it. To keep you safe."

"In exchange for what, Merlin?"

"Nothing-", Merlin loses his grip on the conversation faced with the frightened heartbreak on Arthur's face; the courageous bones bending in unfamiliar ways. "I swear. Nothing. It's not any big magic. The druids do it all the time, we won't have to pay a price for this, Arthur."

"We'll see."

[emziess]

You blindfold a rock. Dimension 20 - Misfits And Magic: Magma and Mingle