#I have a plot planned

[sexy-sapphic-sorcerer]

a scene in which Arthur saw Merlin sneaking around with a sorcerer and misunderstandings ensue:

(from a fic that I will probably never write)

Arthur: I know the truth, I’ve suspected it for a while now. Honestly, I think a part of me knew from the day I met you, I knew there was something different about you. I tried to help you when I said that you lied about being a sorcerer because you were in love with Gwen, but you were so adamant that I was wrong. And then there was your ‘friend’ who did the magic in Ealdor. Not to mention your secret whispers with Lancelot. And then last night… I saw you with that man. I know who you are.

Merlin: Arthur, please, don’t hate me! I was born like this, it doesn’t make me a bad person.

Arthur: I know–

Merlin: And I know that you can’t trust me anymore and I understand. I’ll leave Camelot right now. I’ll never show my face here again. *crying* Just please spare my life!

Arthur: Woah, woah, sssh it’s ok. I’m not going to kill you. Or exile you for that matter.

Merlin: You’re not? But your father would have me burned at the stake.

Arthur: So I won't tell him. I don’t just blindly follow everything my father thinks, you know. Maybe I did at first –and I'm sorry for that– but I’ve come to accept it.

Merlin: Really?

Arthur: Of course. You’re my closest friend, I trust you with everything, that’s not going to change. And for what it’s worth, when I’m king, I’m going to change the laws. People like you should be treated as equals.

Merlin: Oh, thank gods. It means so much to hear you say that. Arthur, you should know, it's all for you. Everything I did last night, I only thought of you.

Arthur: *incredibly flustered* Oh, ok. I mean, I kind of thought that might be the case, but I didn't think you'd be so open about it.

Merlin: You knew?

Arthur: You're not as subtle as you think, I can’t help but notice the way that you look at me.

Merlin: *freaking out* Wait, what do you mean?

Arthur: It’s ok, I’m flattered, truly. Honestly, I’d probably be a bit offended if you weren’t attracted to me. But you’ve never crossed that line, and for that I am very grateful. It shows how strong our friendship is. *squeezes Merlin's shoulder*

Merlin: *blushing violently* Right. Yeah. Of course.

Arthur: You seem shocked. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, if you thought I-

Merlin: No, no it’s not that. Just, you really don’t mind?

Arthur: It doesn’t change a thing. You just don’t have to hide from me anymore.

Merlin: Yeah. And you’re not going to tell anyone?

Arthur: No, I wouldn’t betray you like that. And mainly because this means that I’ve just lost a bet with Gwaine and I really don’t want him finding out.

Merlin: *laughs* You really are an idiot.

[zunaki]

Wangxian in public being disgustingly in love and the Juniors on a matchmaking mission

[lilybug-02]

Wow. That could not have turned out worse.

Part 23 || First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

This comic will be on Holiday Hiatus this December and January! While on a cliffhanger? What a scam! >:/

[moeblob]

So does he, Gallagher.

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo getting hit with a truth curse but instead of forcing him to admit to super sad or worrying things it’s things like “it was me who broke the remote” “I saw Mikey prank Donnie and helped hide it because it’s way funnier if he didn’t know who it was” “I rip my clothes to look more like Raph’s because he’s really cool” “my stripes aren’t even red they’re pink!”

[shrikeclangen]

Advanced Greenstar move: make only one of three siblings an apprentice???

[spacedace]

Been doing a plot overhaul of Ghosts of Gotham and the time line is getting wild but at least I have the general vibes of each of the four big plot lines figured out:

(shoutout to Brennan Lee Mulligan's portrayl of Tula on Burrow's End for making me realize what Dan's story was gonna be lol)

[tanglepelt]

Dp x dc idea thing. 44

Someone says the forbidden words. I wish. Now it was a child’s wish. I wish we all were with our familles. One meant to be nice.

A ghost attack had caused the collapse of a roof. The child was just happened to be in a room with the trio. Danny hadn’t even had the chance to transform.

As Desiree twists her wishes. The worst thing for Danny happened. You see he was adopted. After he failed a mission for the league rather then return he noped out of there. Granted the mission was set up to fail. He overheard his twin discussing it with mother.

Being adopted by two mad scientists at 6 was the biggest reason they never found out he survived. The Fentons were astonished by his story. Helped hide him and forged new papers. Quickly accepting him as their own son. The family had no social media presence minus the Fentonwork site, no mentions of children.

Rather then be returned to the Fentons a green portal dumped him in the middle of a grand dinning room. A ton of blue eyed black haired people eating dinner. The one that stood out was the one with green eyes.

Nope.

No

No way

Well then the green eyed one lunges at him.

Okay maybe.

When he starts yelling about impersonating his dead twin. How dare grandfather clone him. Honestly he wasn’t listening until he spoke of killing all the other clones.

Yup. That was Damian.

If vlad could make clones he has no doubt grandfather could. For all he knows vlad could have handed the info over to him for some of the rancid ectoplasm they had at the base.

He knew the truth now.

The Lazarus pits was just remnants from the river of revulsion. It’s a wonder they brought anyone back.

Honestly Damian charging him was a pain. Danny didn’t even know how his twin suddenly had a sword. Getting cut was enough of that. This was a dinning room not a training room. He was just going to have to dine and dash.

He really needs to thank jazz and sam for getting him back into physical training. He enjoyed not worrying about it 24/7. Then the whole dying had to happen. As such he got back into it. This was starting to tire him out.

From the lack of people getting out of the way. They must be used to this chaos. The look in there eyes indicated they were going to get involved. Honestly he’d rather not.

Realistically he doesn’t think Damian would be able to find him. The fentons and then tucker have helped to conceal him. By all accounts his past life never existed. Only Daniel Fenton did. Amity was a nowhere town mostly hidden by the government anyways. The whole ghost thing was meant to stay secret.

They didn’t want people poking around there.

Danny was aware it just helped hide him so why expose it. Tucker sam and jazz knew. They all could bypass it.

With a sigh and a wave of his hand he froze them in place.

“Let all just cool down here. Damian i have and had no intentions of ever seeing you again. But genies like to twist wishes unfortunately. Desiree just had to screw me over specifically to get me out of town.”

“For all i care keep your title as heir, I’m much happier playing dead. I’m already half way there. Don’t look for me. You get to be the superior twin”

“No need for late night plots on how to kill me or prove yourself. Enjoy. I have friends and family to get back to.”

With a snap of his finger a green portal opened in front of Danny.

“The ice will disappear in five minutes or so. If i remember to unfreeze it” grabbing one of the rolls on the table. Danny left through the portal.

What Danny didn’t know was his twin had been trying to find ways around the botched mission. Grandfather has only wanted one heir. Easiest way to get that was to dispose of the youngest.

[starrysharks]

melody hoshimoto aka pigtail star !!

[utilitycaster]

I understand not being a big fan of the appearance of past PCs, and I shared that earlier on, and even shared the argument that I wanted Bells Hells' story to be about them...but I feel like the time for that argument has passed. As we've gone on, that is in fact the story - that they're a bunch of level 8 adventurers who have fallen into an endgame scenario because of little peripheral threads and because of who one of their companions is. The story is, on some level, about not being about them. They've had so little time to drive their own destiny; it's been fetch quests and pursuit from the start, with little in the way of the odd jobs and proper stumblings one would usually expect.

And I hope that after the solstice they'll get to do that! But I think having Keyleth and the Ashari, Beau, and Caleb there hammer the above home: this is so much bigger than Bells Hells is prepared for, and they're here because a few weird things that happened in Jrusar (which is all that Eshteross ever wanted to look into, and all Treshi ever wanted to do) were unbeknownst to them part of a plot Ludinus Da'leth has likely been working on for several centuries; and because Imogen and Fearne are involved through accidents of birth. In many ways, it echoes Laudna's entire story. It's just people who were minding their own business in a town, and someone powerful and ruthless did things beneath it that affected the population at large because of a plan with cosmic ramifications, and they became involved out of an accident of location.

I'll admit - I do prefer a story where people are actively seeking something, or running from something, rather than caught up in bigger and bigger webs of conspiracy, but that's not the one being told right now, and the version in which far more powerful allies don't appear is a tragic and cynical one, whereas one with Keyleth, Beau, and Caleb says "yeah, this is fucked up, and it's not fair that you're here on your own to deal with this rip current of an event."

[bored-platypus]

the moon will sing (time traveling tim)

so. i saw this super awesome post by @puppetwoman17 about time traveling tim drake and got obsessed, so here's a small ficlet i wrote about it!

The thing is, Tim expects it. He’s faintly aware of the blood seeping from his stomach, staining his hands red— hands which are uselessly putting pressure on his wound. If he survives this, he doesn’t even want to think of all the weeks of pure agony and fever, brought on by the wonderful lack of his spleen and the fact that healing from wounds sucked, period.

Death isn’t surprising— he really didn’t think he would live past, what, twenty-five? Thirty? To live until beyond 50 with his lifestyle was, well. It sounded painful, anyways. And you would need to be a deeply paranoid neurotic. Like Bruce. Because as much as he respected his father and looked up to him, if Tim turned out anything like Batman, he’d probably find a bullet through his brain sooner or later.

Half because Tim was reckless and his plans were so convoluted and insane that nobody really knew what was going on either, just to confuse his opponent. The other half was, well. You can guess.

So. He’s bleeding out, the night is uncomfortably cold and the wind bites into his skin, sand grating against his back, and all Tim can think about is how much he hopes Ra’s al-Ghul doesn’t show up like a damned wraith and drag him kicking and screaming to the nearest surgery table and take out his kidneys or something. 

Tim’s also thinking about his family. And the probable inconveniences that come with his death. Like arranging his funeral and all his assets and his Nest and the fact that Tim is a very integral part of the family and Dick will probably fall apart and Bruce will mourn and brood, and, and damn it. Tim should probably revoke his thinking process or something.

—

Tim is twenty three years old when he bleeds to death alone, and nobody finds his body until three weeks later when his family has scoured the Earth and his distress signal rings, rings, but nobody sees it. His predictions about his family come true.

But that isn’t quite relevant, because Tim isn’t aware of such a thing. 

Instead, Tim closes his eyes and falls and jerks up on his bed, clutching his chest as years of memories flood his brain, too much for a mere eleven year old. It feels like his head has been cracked open and molten lava had been poured through, scorching his veins and circulation. It feels like agony of the highest level and Tim is faintly aware of the darkness creeping in, his mind too overwhelmed and overstimulated from years of memories flooding into his brain.

And so for the second time in a few minutes and a lifetime, Tim welcomes unconsciousness with open arms.

The next few hours are spent in pure agony, his body being too weak to move and his limbs too short for him to coordinate. He’s pretty sure that there’s a pool of dried blood underneath him from a nosebleed, but he’s too tired to turn around, so he just uncomfortably shifts away from it. Not for the first time, he thanks his lucky stars that his parents are neglectful, because he doesn’t even know how he would explain all of this. 

Two days later, he musters the strength to stumble out of bed, gulp down the bitter, carbon dioxide-filled water next to him and get to the kitchen. It’s April 1st, twelve years ago, Tim is eleven years old, and his family doesn’t know him yet.

Half of the terrible things that have happened to Dick haven’t happened yet. Jason hasn’t died yet. Duke is still a kid and his parents are healthy. Babs hasn’t been put into a wheelchair by the Joker.

Steph is still living with her father. Damian and Cass are being trained as assassins.

Mrs. Mac is due to come in a few hours. Tim looks at the blood-crusted covers of his bed and his crumpled clothes. 

Oh, shoot. 

So instead of researching or training, Tim spends the next hour trying to get the bedsheets off with his tiny, noodle arms, half stumbling on his feet because he’s way too damn short, and making his way to the bathroom so he can take a shower and get some of the blood off so it doesn’t stain too badly. 

It’s probably a lost cause. Not that his parents will notice or care about a missing bedsheet, but it feels wasteful to just throw it away to hide evidence of his unintentional time travel.

Two and a half hours later, Tim stumbles out of the laundry room, his bedsheets and pillow finally in the washer. He collapses on the nearest chair and scans the room for his father’s computer. 

He lets out a shaky breath. His family is generally unscarred. Jason is Robin again. Jason. The boy who Tim had held with a certain degree of, well, disdain. Thinking about it kind of makes him want to punch is past self in the face, or cringe in the way that you can only do when you think of something embarrassing you used to do. Like victim-blaming your older brother for getting beat to death while trying to find his mother. 

It wasn’t the only way he looked at Jason, but he had always thought of him as too reckless. Maybe he really did deserve the beating. Well, not that he believed that young teenagers should be beat up by young adults in Robin cosplay, but at least Tim wasn’t exactly traumatized by the experience. Better him than some other poor civilian kid Bruce could’ve adopted.

And Tim did get his revenge. By getting Jason on his private parts. But whatever. Revenge was revenge, and Tim was better than the whole crime lord setup his older brother had. In practice, anyways. 

Chewing on the ballpoint pen, he writes down the first thing on his list (in code, of course) since coming back in time.

prevent jason’s death 

Well. Now that he had a comprehensive list, Tim was down and ready to plan. 

—

A hour later, Mrs. Mac appears, none the wiser to what happened to him. Tim greets her as she walks in, and she smiles and greets him back, putting lunch in the fridge. She notices nothing wrong about how he stays sitting on the chair in the living room, and Tim says nothing about it. When she leaves, he pulls the piece of paper out of his book and the pen from his hair, scratching down some extra points.

Hmm. Maybe the Court of Owls should go early. Or perhaps that would create too much change?

Dick would have a better time in the future if they were gone, though. Tim frowns, dragging his pen back and forth in a short line on the table. 

He still needed to factor in the fact that he was an unknown to the family. The thing is, Tim loves their dysfunctional, broken family and he knows Bruce and Dick loved him back. But to be honest, it would be easier to change events if he wasn’t being scrutinized by Bruce every day. And it wasn’t like Tim had any shortage of money, with his parents still alive and his family fortune enough to cover whole lifetimes, so he wasn’t worried about his own safety.

It would be nice to go to college too. Maybe Stanford. He was smart enough to make it, and the location was close to the vigiliante community that if he so wanted to, he could probably join and watch his family from the outskirts. Last time around, Tim just couldn’t leave Gotham. Being a vigiliante was his life— he couldn’t even justify it as a temporary thing anymore. Their family had gone through so much tragedy and Gotham was still filled with crime and Tim had an obligation to keep her safe. It just… he couldn’t escape his mantle because he loved it, and Tim had a difficult time letting things go once he loved them. 

But if Tim could change things from the start, he didn’t need to be pulled back into the life. (He couldn’t have it, even if he loved it, because it was never his in the first place.) He could start anew, be a vigiliante when he was in college and far away from the family he hopefully would’ve fixed by then.

Well then. First things first, he needed to remove a factor from Jason’s death so he wouldn’t die in the first place.

—

Mrs. Mac comes by and cooks him lunch, and they eat in silence. Typically, Tim would fill the silence with chattering, glad to have someone to talk to in the empty manor.  But Tim’s mind is whirring, drawing up and discarding plans. By the time Mrs. Mac stands up and tells him she’s going to leave now, Tim has thought of three contingencies and twelve more future events he needs to address.

He mhms when Mrs. Mac prompts him to, and eventually she leaves out the front door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. It’s spring break and Tim doesn’t actually have anything to do because he’s in middle school now, so he mulls over the Jason problem for a few more hours.

It comes to him when he’s microwaving the leftovers from lunch, and Tim is pretty sure he’s a genius, or something. Sheila Haywood worked at a refugee camp in Ethiopia handling medical supplies, but she was embezzling funds from the organization she was working for. It wouldn’t be difficult for Tim to trace it and report her. By the time Jason began tracking her down, she would most likely be in prison, just for a few years and everything would hopefully blow over and the Joker wouldn’t blackmail her because she had no use to him in prison. 

It was cold, perhaps. But her life wouldn’t be over with a few years in prison, and Jason would be alive. Nothing more than they deserved.

Jason, alive. Then Damian, Cass, and Steph. He would see to his family, whole and happy. Then perhaps, in the future, when he was older and safely out of Bruce’s adoption zone, Tim could perhaps work with them. Laugh about how he never expected the Wayne family to be vigilantes, just to throw them off his trail. 

Tim allows himself this one selfish thought, because he has nothing else but the shattered remains of a future that will never come to be, and a family he left behind but still exists.

a/n:

i wrote this in two hours under an inspired haze of time travel and tim, two of my favorite things

tim is a super unreliable narrator if you haven't already noticed lmao

also if i get any characterization wrong feel free to leave some discourse or ping me on the head

but like please be gentle cause y'know constructive crit, not bashing

thanks for reading! :D

[dumblucksers]

doodle dump from my genloss downfall au

[crimson-nail]

i have been cooking an over-complicated roleswap au for. a VERY long time

[justanotherfanfolks]

Book 4: *exists*

Me: Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, showstopping, spectacular-

[tennesseeroulette]

We NEED a time travel esque kirby game

[venomgaia]

Guys that go bump in the night

(minorly inspired by @karniss-bg3 's response to this ask)