#he's not happy about it tho :p

[bandit-likes-cheese]

Crimbus whiteboard doodles :3

[cheriboms]

[spite] has entered the chat >:P

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[sysig]

For Requestober, Req.1

Scri dressed as an angel, Edgar dressed as a demon. It would be fun to see the roles swaped regarding costumes!

Day 3 - Angel and Devil('s Advocate)

[justaz]

once merlin puts arthur to rest, the world around him disappears and he’s in ealdor staring at his mother’s back. his sobs from the lake grow worse at the sight of his mother and he wails like he’s a child again, calling repeatedly for his ma. she spins around and finds him, without asking any questions she dashes forward and pulls him into a hug, holding his weight as he falls apart in her grasp, choking out nonsensical words and soaking her dress with tears, snot, and drool, his overwhelming grief causing him to ignore any sense of shame he might’ve felt at such a scene.

he doesn’t remember explaining anything to her, frankly he doesn’t remember much beyond the cries he pressed into her shoulder, but she says he’s been in ealdor for a week. she’s clearly worried and asks, no, begs him to eat or drink but he doesn’t feel the need or desire to, and even if he did, he simply doesn’t have the energy to bring the sustenance to his mouth. she cradles his head in her lap and runs her finger through his hair like she did when he had a nightmare when he was younger. it’s almost enough to make the entire thing seem like a horrible, horrible dream. but theres blood on his tunic where he held arthur’s body to his own so he knows it’s not true.

his mother doesn’t ask any questions, the look in her eyes telling him that she knows anyway. perhaps his nonsensical babble created a clear enough image for her to understand. maybe she just saw the broken look in his eyes and came to the conclusion on her own. she doesn’t mention him. merlin isn’t sure if he’s relieved about that or not. in the end, he brings it up, he asks how she was able to go on after balinor left. he asks how she was able to pick herself back up on her own two feet and carry on life as normal after receiving his letter informing her of his passing. she says sometimes she can’t, sometimes she lays in bed and listens to the birds sing and can’t help but hate them. she says she lives on for him anyway. she pushes herself up and makes food and works in the fields even when she hate the world around her.

merlin tries to relate, tries to understand, tries to imagine himself getting up every morning and living on in his name. he can’t. his parents loved each other, he knows that, but they were their own people and were able to stand the years apart. merlin…merlin is arthur’s, even in death. everything he is, everything he’s done, has been for arthur. he is half of merlin’s soul, the center of merlin’s world. how can anyone expect him to move on as if he’s capable of being alone? how can anyone expect him to function as if half of his soul, half of himself, isn’t dead in a lake? merlin can’t do it, he can’t imagine living a life without arthur. he barely got through the week and that’s only because he was passed out for a majority of it. how could he make it a year, much less another fifty?

he can’t. he can’t do it. he can’t breathe, he’s in agony, the world around him doesn’t exist anymore. not without arthur.

he’s back at the lake now, tears still streaming down his face despite the pounding headache from dehydration yet it doesn’t matter, not anymore. none of it does. he stumbles into the lake and sends his magic into the water to tug excalibur from the depths. he can feel freya pulling the sword back, but his magic overpowers hers easily and the sword springs from the lake, gleaming in the afternoon sun. freya’s face appears in the ripples of the water next to him, her expression pleading and sorrowful. merlin whispers an apology before turning back to the sword, staring at the sharp point of the blade. he brings it closer to hover just over his heart, the metal pressing against his skin but not enough to draw blood just yet.

peace washes over him. the sun warms his skin and the water cools him to keep it from being unbearable. the birds sing in the trees as the wind whistles through the leaves. merlin stares up at the brilliant blue sky and pure white clouds roll by, images of bunnies and birds and crowns and horses staring down at him. he wonders if avalon will be this peaceful, if he and arthur could lay out in a field for eternity, basking in the sun and laughing as they point out misshapen clouds that supposedly look like the other.

he plunges the sword into his chest, right through his heart, and falls back into the water. bubbles trail out of his mouth up towards the surface, blood spills from his wound and mixes with the water. he closes his eyes as he sinks further and further. he knows when he opens them, he’ll be with arthur once more. it’ll all be okay. he doesn’t feel his body hit the bottom before blackness fills his mind.

arthur awakens from his fitful slumber in a bed that is not his own. he squints at the room, or rather hut, around him and finds an old man hunched over a book in the corner. arthur tries to speak but all that comes out is a squeak of air, his throat too dry to speak. the man hears and whirls around to begin treating him once more, prattling on and on about how he found arthur in the woods outside his village donning shiny clothes which he discarded bc of the blood staining them yet he couldn’t find a wound. arthur’s hand reaches up to his side but there’s no stab wound there, not anymore, though he does sport the scar. he remembers how he got it, he remembers stumbling away from the battlefield, he remembers being found by merlin- merlin.

he asks the man about him but he seems confused and denies ever knowing someone by that name. arthur climbs out of the bed (the flash of golden eyes) and hastily pulls on his armor (“i’m a sorcerer. i have magic.”). he’s out the door before the old man can protest. he’s in a village he doesn’t recognize, they must not be anywhere near camelot (“i’m still the same person.”). he turns to the old man hobbling out of the hut and demands directs to camelot. the man stares at him oddly and scratches his ear before informing him that he’s never heard of a camelot before (“you’re my friend and i don’t want to lose you.”).

he instead asks for directions to the woods where he was found and sets off in that direction, the old man shuffling after him (“me, i was born to serve you, arthur.”). it doesn’t take long to reach where he was found. if the old man had carried him home it couldn’t’ve been much of a hike (“and i’m proud of that.”). he steps into a clearing where the man panted that he found him here (“and i wouldn’t change a thing.”). it’s no where near the lake where merlin held him as he took his last breath, it’s no where near camelot. the man didn’t even recognize the name of his kingdom (“it’s not why i do it.”).

arthur sits in the grass as he thinks on his next move and the man who watched over him sits next to him (“i’m not going to change now.”). he speaks lowly of a prophecy about a man from a time long forgotten sent on a journey, a quest, to retrieve what has been lost. he says how the prophecy led many to a sword lodged in stone (“i’m not going to lose you.”) but no one could pull it free. he points out arthur’s armor and calls it odd, he mentions camelot, a kingdom of which he’s never heard, and gestures around the clearing where he found the mystery man. he concludes that perhaps the prophecy spoke of him (“i can’t lose him.”).

arthur, with no other options, follows the man’s directions to a lake. not exactly lake avalon but close enough. theres a small island in the center that seems more like a hill. the sword, his sword, excalibur is buried in a stone covered in moss, misshaping it’s actual form. arthur wades across the water and climbs the hill. he wraps his hands around the hilt of excalibur and closes his eyes. he imagines merlin confident and reassuring expression as they and all his men stood in the woods around this damn sword in a different stone however long ago it was. he breathes in and out (“he’s my friend.”) and pulls.

excalibur comes free just as it did before. arthur watches the metal pull free and as it does, the moss on the stone falls away revealing its form. it looks like a collapsed figure, excalibur having been lodged in it’s chest, right where it’s heart would be. arthur squints at what looks like the head and feels a flash of familiarity. the stone slowly fades away from the hole where excalibur was all the way to the hill. as the stone fades, it leaves behind skin and clothes and hair and…merlin.

arthur drops excalibur and falls to his knees to hold up merlin’s limp form. he feels warm, as if he didn’t just spend however long with a sword in his chest as a stone. he’s not breathing. why isn’t he breathing? arthur grasps around, shifting his clothes out of the way to find the wound where excalibur had once been. the skin is stitching itself together with tiny golden threads. arthur looks back up at merlin’s lax face as the wound fully closes. he inhales sharply as his eyes fly open, glowing gold, and all around him it seemed the world finally inhaled after suffocating for millennia.

merlin exhales and golden sparks shoot from his lips to flurry around in the air. the grass under them grows longer and curls around both his and merlin’s body where they rest against the ground. the water around their island clears from the murky brown to a blindingly clear blue. the air is crisp and clean, the sun brighter and warmer, and one soul finally whole again.

[hannigramislife]

Me: I cannot stand Jin Guangyao. Seriously, fuck him.

My friend: ...

Me: Lan Xichen should have let Nie Mingjue kill him at least a dozen times. Would have saved us all a headache.

My friend: ...

Me: Like!! All he has is the audacity!!! He's a scheming asshole who loves to gaslight us into thinking he had no other choice!! Urgh, i hate him.

My friend: You're literally writing a 3zun crime reincarnation au where he gets everything he's ever wanted, including love from Lan Xichen and understanding from Nie Mingjue. You're gunning for Huaisang reconciliation as well.

Me: That means nothing!!!

My friend: He's the pov character!! The entire thing is you working through his emotions and explaining his actions!

Me: JUST BECAUSE I WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY NOW DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T HATE HIM!

My friend: ...

Me: ...

My friend: You made Nie Mingjue apologize first.

Me: Yeah, I'm not proud of that one–

[guinevereslancelot]

decided to leave my job and i'm gonna fr gonna cryyyyy

[aew-regression-cove]

How come u don't use agere tags anymore?

honestly to avoid my blog being found 🙏🏻 — I made this blog because as much as I loved my old one it was a lot of people following and interacting with me and it's a very vulnerable part of myself I'm sharing with this type of blog. this blog is a way to start fresh and be more vigilant in who is seeing me/my content, and using the main agere tags would draw some attention to my blog and (especially) with the dude going around bullying regressors online again I don't wanna draw any unwanted attention to myself. <3

[wfuckshit42]

here's my hot take

[pomellon]

I realized I never actually talked about the tweaked omegaverse setting I’ve been thinking about! It’s something I might use for a spinoff of a modern Euplerian au cuz I think it could be neat uvu

In this setting the secondary genders are more fluid, able to change depending on the eupie’s pack hierarchy. Everyone is born beta but can become alpha or omega, and even revert back to beta to later become something else based on their life circumstances.

Two individual can become alphas if they decide to start a family together, making them an alpha pair able to have offspring. A beta can slowly shift to alpha should their pack view and treat them as their leader, instinctually becoming the new alpha. A beta can also force control over a group of other betas to create a forceful shift to become an alpha.

However, should the alpha lose their pack or family there’s a high chance their secondary gender will revert back to beta since they’re no longer the leader of a group.

Omegas work similarly but on the opposite spectrum. Instead of being the leader at the top of the hierarchy, they’re the jester at the bottom. Low betas are often corned into becoming omegas, often due to stressed-out packs taking out most of their frustrations, verbally and/or physically, on one single packmate. An omega's role is to destress their pack, usually by being playful and submissive towards the pack betas to help them have fun and relax. It is however very common for them to turn into the betas’ punching bag and many omegas will have scars from past aggressions. 

In more well-adjusted packs omegas aren’t always needed, but a beta can still slowly shift to an omega if many of their packmates come to them to talk, play, or to relax. While it’s an alpha’s role to lead, it’s an omega's role to entertain and many betas from peaceful packs look forward to spending time with their omega.

Similar to alphas omegas will often revert back to betas should they lose their pack. But in the case of betas who wear scars that signify their past pack role as an omega, they’re very often thrown back into the same position and become omegas again if a new pack takes them. Marked omegas are also often undesirable as mates, as even if they were to start a family and become an alpha people would still view them as an omega due to their scars.

[kissycat]

THE SCARY EMAIL WAS A WIN

[carbonateddelusion]

pretty people <3<3<3 beautiful bois and gorgeous gorls <3<3<3

[todayisafridaynight]

I completely agree! I'm glad you don't mind at least, but of course, it's totally natural to be predisposed to liking what you end up liking. I think that's gonna happen no matter what and it's not something that ever needs to be suppressed. There are very obvious patterns in my favorite characters and pairings for a reason lol

Same! I'm very selective as well, so a fic that stands out that much is always gonna be one for the books. I'm thrilled the language barrier didn't get in the way. The scene at the park GETS ME like the way Jo just knows that it's gonna eat away at Masato and does his best to accommodate instead of dragging him straight home like bro😭😭

I've always wanted to know what differs in Jo's and Arakawa's "parenting styles" that made Masato have such a clear "favorite," and maybe it's things like that that build up. ALSO AGREE on the drama theme in Confession, there's a bit of that in Y7 as-is so it was a great choice to hone in on and highlight it.

I knew you'd say that haha, but I think my subconscious simply understands that if I'd trust anyone with AraSawa, it's you. Also no worries, I genuinely wasn't even expecting a reply until you got home, godspeed lol--super excited to see what you come up with, and I hope you enjoyed your trip + the sushi!

Of course! Nothing wrong with liking what you end up liking. I only worry about it so I don't miss out on good things just because I'm not familiar with it or it's something new- trying to be open minded and ready to try different things and all :]

YEAHYEAH it especially felt great since like. Jo seeing Masato cry about not being able to walk was of course what got him back into his life, so it was nice to loop back to that and instead of Jo not being able to do anything like the first time, he go to be there for him now ;;

On the topic of parenting styles though, I'm genuinely surprised I haven't let slip any of my personal notes about how they parent Masato- or at least how I've speculated they parent him (of course we see how Masumi takes care of him more, so the 'speculation' part more so lies on Jo's end since obviously we didn't get to see it as explicitly). I actually thought of writing up a post about their parenting styles, but I thought I'd be repeating a lot of points we went over uu;;

Even if I might not ever write a fic, I'm glad that I've gotten the mark of approval for AraSawa interpretations (I guess my silly comics are the closest to written fics huh lmao)!

[sysig]

I also made a card for him (Patreon)

[waylouder]

small vent in the tags! no need to read, just catagorizing :D

[sepiasys]

Idr if I mentioned it specifically but we got books and the person at counter was fine with not having the 4c :3 (both books cost $5 and the total was 11.04, rip ig)

But that was nice. Also when go out to get stuffs B asked for (plus a. Admittedly pretty bad cinnaroll), a second person at counter helped us and was patient with us despite feeling overencumbered @_@ He even gave us straw before we could ask :D (which we lowkey forgot to do ^^;;)

Also B liked the book and said he would def read ^^ So whether he actually does or not, am happ :3

Also. Yelling at him!!! For not let help clean his area in room!!! He's rlly upset by it and says he'll do it but he hasn't, probably in part bc is distressing, and he won't accept our help!!! >:0

Time to bag trash up when he sleepin frfr (Idk if we'll be awake before him or not lol) /silly