Our Stars Still Shine Together
Arthur has returned.
He and Merlin have gotten together, and together they saved the world with almost no one the wiser.
They think their job is done, but as magic is revealed to be re-emerging, and not all of it in the right hands, they must build a new Camelot in this modern world to deal with the emerging threats.
Meanwhile, the trauma Merlin brushed aside for centuries, even after Arthur’s return, will not be ignored anymore.
Expect fluff, angst, humor, banter, and lots of Merthur!
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Merlin continued, “Arthur… this means they are back.”
Arthur's gaze flicked to the creature he had felled. Part of him wanted to stab it over and over again for hurting Merlin. A very large part of him. “I know.”
“Arthur, if there is one, there might be more. And if magical creatures are back, it means magic might start coming back to people as well.”
This was something Arthur had not considered. That there might be more magical animals, sure, but that there might be people…He looked down at Merlin, who was glassy-eyed with tears, likely realizing the magic he had seen leave the world was coming back.
“Usually it has to be studied… learned… Gaius told me I was unique in my abilities and perhaps I am… But that's not always the case. Having to study. Some people just have magic.”
Arthur thought about Mordred, about Morgana, and about Merlin in his arms. “We can’t let it go like last time,” he announced into the cave’s night air.
“No,” Merlin responded. “We can’t.”
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Cover Art by: @gyrhs
Chapter Art by: @kairennart
Army of Betas: Thesongistheriver, @tiny-and-witchy @bouquet-of-briar-roses, @siel0012 Wilson, Thepumat, suitupbatman, Firebolt_dancer, Pearl09, Anne Exception, notoriousjyt
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Find it on a03 here!
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Finding Elysium; Part Two.
It had been a week since the Shattered Elysium's crash, and the hospital was still in shambles. The once-sterile floors were littered with debris and bloodstains, and the air was heavy with the smell of burnt metal and smoke. The sound of medical equipment beeping and whirring filled the air, mixed with the soft whispers of nurses and doctors who moved around the room.
Vaerin lay in his bed, still unconscious, his chest rising and falling with the help of a respirator. His wounds had been treated, but the damage had been severe, and the doctors were unsure if he would ever wake up again. Despite the state of him, Sylris was the only one outside of the doctors to slip in, resting a firm hand on the Knight’s shoulder and studying him intently.
“You wake up, Vaerin. You don’t get to die yet.” The Crusader whispered, golden eyes narrowing a bit.
The hospital staff had been working around the clock since the crash, doing their best to care for the injured and treat the sick. Some of them had been injured themselves in the chaos, but they had soldiered on, driven by their dedication to their patients.
(TW: Injury, bloodstains, medical supplies.)
The crash had been a disaster of unprecedented proportions, and the hospital had been overwhelmed by the number of injured. It had taken several days for other hospitals in the area to get up and running again, and in the meantime, this hospital had been the only one available for miles around. The staff had done their best, but they had been stretched thin, and the patients had suffered for it.
In the aftermath of the crash, the hospital had become a makeshift command center, with military personnel and emergency services personnel coming and going at all hours of the day and night. There had been press conferences and briefings, and the hospital staff had been called on to provide updates on the injured and to give details about the crash.
Now, seven days later, the hospital was finally starting to return to normal. The debris had been cleared away, and the bloodstains had been scrubbed clean. The staff had a chance to catch their breath, and the patients were starting to be discharged. The ventilator was removed from Vaerin, the doctors optimistic his body no longer required the assistance.
On the eighth day, things within the hospital had continued to return to normal. Vaerin's eyes shot open as he suddenly returned to consciousness, a sharp inhale followed by violent coughing. The room was sterile and cold, with the pungent smell of disinfectant overwhelming his senses. Blinking rapidly, he tried to sit up, but the sharp pain that ripped through his side caused him to gasp in agony.
"Don't move, Vaerin," a gentle voice said from beside him, and he turned his head to see Paithien Runeara, one of the healers from The Order, standing over him. "You've been through a lot. Just rest for now." She added, lifting a glass of water to the Knight’s lips.
Vaerin drank greedily, as if he’d been left in the desert for days, before he looked down at himself and saw that his chest was tightly wrapped in bandages, and his left wrist was heavily bandaged as well. He winced as he shifted slightly, feeling the pain shoot through his body. "What happened?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse and strained.
The Priestess sighed heavily, her expression somber. "Your airship went down over Tanaris," she said. "The Order retrieved you, but you were badly injured. You have three broken ribs, a concussion, a punctured lung, and a large gash in your wrist from a piece of jagged pipe that you were impaled on."
Vaerin's mind raced as he tried to remember what had happened. He had been on a mission for The Order, investigating reports of a... He paused, eyebrows furrowing. He remembered the chaos and the fear, the sound of metal tearing and the smell of smoke and blood, but not why he was there in the first place.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to will the memories back. After a moment, he opened his eyes again, looking up at the Priestess. "What now?" he questioned.
"Now, you rest and heal," Paith said firmly. "You're lucky to be alive, Vaerin. You need time to recover."
Vaerin nodded, feeling the exhaustion wash over him. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting as he tried to find some measure of peace. His body slumped back into the hospital bed, head falling to the side as he lapsed back into sleep.
The Priestess straightened up, brushing Vaerin’s hair back from his face and making her way to a table, picking up a communicator and speaking into it.
“Admiral, Vaerin woke up. If you could reach out to Warden Silverflame-Bloodhawk, Commander Ashfeather and Wing Commander Ith’valin to inform them, I’m sure they’d be appreciative.” She requests, before setting the device down and slipping from the room.
( @heartpiercer, @thesilvercrusader @thestarsfury for brief mentions.)
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To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:
A post in 2023:
A post in 2014:
A zoom out of the same post:
This is what a community looks like.
See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.
It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.
Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.
If you want more of something, reblog it.
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