#I just word vomited really because the ideas were thrumming and I had! to pen them down

[groundbreakingdot872]

every time I see one your delicious headcanons, I get the sudden feeling that all of my writer’s block is going to flee from me for a few precious moments and I’ll suddenly find the Herculean strength to write something decent :)

your writing is so inspiring, it’s almost vicious! The way you tease out these tiny minuscule details into an entire life span of characterization, perfectly spotted with metaphors that make me Feel things it’s just … no words ironically

This idea of ‘Mother’ as this hulking, just massive presence held together as a teeth-clenched grit and an overpowering love translates so well into Merlin’s larger-than-life existence as an immortal and as Magic itself…

I think this is the missing peice of the puzzle, the final cornerstone in what makes Merlin such a interesting character, both in the way he’s cared for Arthur, Albion and all the rest of the millennia till the budding modern legend, and his omnipresence as fucking Emrys, Zeus-like on a hill- this just clicks

and I’m foaming at the mouth

‘the warmth of a hollowed-out carcass in winter’ where you can see every nerve and tissue defined in a space less than a millimeter from your eyeballs, but the reprimand is from not facing it, from not daring to look head-on at the undead membrane cloaking you, sheltering you, blanketing you as the snow falls as quiet and heavy as a dead man’s breath. And you come to terms with the instinctual and gripping nature of survival that protects you while it curses your cowardice.

He’s survival personified, the rising nape of ‘a provoked lioness’ that feels horrifyingly the same as the doom-fall of galaxies and the realization you might lose everything. And with the bitter palm-stained knowledge of having lost everything, he’s more vicious in the face of Dread and Despair than anyone, or anything else.

A ferocity that bares its teeth at the blinding web-weave of destiny and shrieks in a premature grief before anything’s even been lost, the idea that Magic is a second skin to the pull and push, moment to moment, death dance of Nature means he’s well aware of the consequences of losing the game

Mother is Overwhelming, a drowning roar instead of soft whispers, falling in the ears of men who might’ve been prophesied to live just a thimble of life time longer, if they’d hurried under the shelter of his arms. Instead of attempting to mewl in bravery like day-old chicks.

I’m- just fixating so hard on this idea of Merlin, Mother of Legend-born, and his offspring the children of Albion; every brave-hearted youth that might’ve pocketed his stories of Arthuriana and wanted to try their own hand at the ‘sword’ or the play of something greater- but like many curious and terribly naive scampering children, fallen prey to the watchful eyes of Something that Merlin tried his hardest to scare away.

A force equal and instrumental to Magic’s downfall, with Merlin as the Other, second Force. A deadly and cunning and grinning face, at the idea of Merlin’s love, the expansive darkness to his ever guiding light.

merlin is a mother-type character and it’s hard to explain that to people because they see chaos and murder and impulsivity and they think “that’s not motherly” (or else they mischaracterize him to fit their idea of motherly, which is an independent but equal issue) and i need you all to understand. when i say merlin is a mother-type character, i don’t mean the common perception of human mothers. i don’t mean the warmth of an embrace and the reliability of structure and the soothing of an unshakable figure. i mean the kind of “motherly” associated with wild, vicious animals. i mean the warmth of a hollowed carcass in winter and the harsh reprimand of something bigger and wiser than you trying to keep you alive against terrible odds and the vibrating single-minded ferocity that comes with a protective instinct so deep-seated that even something twice as large and just as hungry doesn’t stand a chance against the brighthot rage of fucking with something that should not be fucked with. because magic is a wild thing and merlin is magic as much as he is human and merlin’s motherly tendencies are every bit as feral as a provoked lioness. merlin is not a mother of humans, he’s a mother of the earth and humans just happen to inhabit it.