it is not a crime to fight for your freedom

having adhd and being a creator is like being on a timer. oh sorry you have this art idea? well you have approximately 12 hours to start it and 6 hours to finish the task or else you will lose interest and inevitably move on. oh you have an idea for a one-shot? well you’d better finish it in a day unless you want to banish it to your wips forever. ding dong bitch

Online store: Send a photo confirmation that your order has not come

Me:

was gonna wait to post this til i finished the gwaine one as well but thats boring! gwen in the spiderverse art style 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

modern gwencelot yippeee!!!!!

Narratives where it's the love that dooms them, love not as a positive force but a force to be reckoned with, when at the moment the hero could have chosen to save the world but they chose to save the one they love instead and now it's too late, love that is so strong that you can't let it go even if letting if go is the right thing to do

I know Cold Iron RestraintsTM are a big thing in fics, but sometimes I think back to The Lady of The Lake and I remember that Hegal was a professional bounty hunters for magical creatures, and one with such a reputation that Uther knew him by name and let him have his guards to look for his runaway prisoner. And I think that, in spite of her curse, Freya couldn't get out of her cage and her restraints; she was trapped.

And then I remember that Merlin waltzed up to the lock, ripped the fucker open like it's paper, and then snapped her chains like they're crackers.

I'm just saying, can you imagine the absolute fuckery if those restraints were made specifically to imprison magical creatures, and Merlin was just so powerful he didn't even notice? He goes through his whole life terrified of witchunters and the like with 0 knowledge of the fact that he's unrestrainainable by humans. He's fucking immune. He keeps breaking out of things no magical creature has ever broken free of he and he has no awareness of it. Elle Wood's What Like It's Hard? but make it an anxious mess of a wizard in hiding.

I want a fic that is all of this and ends with a Mordred's reveal. "Emrys, that was Cold Iron." "I guess?" "You guess?" "I mean it looks like iron and it was cold, I'm not sure what you're looking for here"

很久沒更新

這張畫了快一個月

thinking about how lance stared directly at merlin when he was talking to arthur during the round table scene about fighting for freedom.

true that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree

every episode of merlin is like

morgana: the best way to kill arthur is to make him piss rocks. here i have this magic snake where anyone who is bit will piss rocks! he’ll never see it coming

arthur: i am pissing rocks

gaius: merlin is at the tavern

merlin: i have found a special flower that only opens when you recite a spell at it and it can be used to cure rock pissing disease. enjoy this tea i’ve made, arthur!

arthur: i have stopped pissing rocks thanks to the bravery of my knights. the moment they captured this random soldier who brought the snake to camelot, i was drinking my tea and i quit pissing rocks.

morgana: thwarted again! if only emrys didn’t know every detail of arthur’s life that only his servant would know!

far be it from me to condone morgana's actions in the later seasons, but i'm rewatching s04e13 and something about the fact that, even as usurper queen, she chooses not to sleep in the chambers of the king, but her childhood bedroom. like yes, she's changed, but she's not a new person. her behaviour isn't some new addition to her borne of things beyond her control, but of something within her that festered and enflamed, but a part of her nonetheless. also the fact that the bedroom itself is so symbolic, a place that should have been safe but turned out to be the place that betrayed her. a room for sleeping that was the room where she was finally woken up. and that it was a place from her childhood, like she's still desperately grasping onto the version of her that loved, where she had friends, not minions, dreams, not ambition. there's a sense of lost innocence about the whole thing, of contradictions borne of each other and self-fulfilling prophecy, the tragedy being that she allowed it to be taken from herself, and she can never go back. and then. not even ten minutes later in the episode, when arthur asks "what happened to you?" she responds not with a retort about truth or violence or anger, but with that all-telling ambiguity: "i grew up".

the lovely guinevere 💛

GUESS THE WARLOCK'S GENDER

(there is no prize)