#anyway got more crimes

[picturesofashe]

Scheming and plotting and other shenanigans.

What trouble will they get into this time?

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

Hugs bc these boys deserve one

[itscherryterry-again]

yea

[edwinisms]

it’s actually so wild to me that this fairly quirky YA type show gave both of its main characters deaths that can, in one way or another, solidly be considered hate crimes. they were both flat out murdered as a result of being A) gay and effeminate or B) brown (south asian, specifically) and you could argue whether or not those kids thought of it that way in the moment or whatever but the bottom line is that they would not have been in the situations that killed them if they weren’t of their respective minorities. like legitimately that is a ballsy choice for this kind of netflix show, let alone for the two Main Characters, and i respect it big time

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[shinybulbasaur]

Rules: Make a poll with five of your all-time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favorite!

I was tagged by @suddenrundown, thanks for the tag! I was so tempted to put "eliot's baseball hair" but I resisted (also polls don't allow strikethroughs. sad). tagging @michinaranja, @vero-niche, @acidmatze and anyone else who wants to play!

[bisclavret]

like many who have suffered at the hands of bbc merlin before me, i recently indulged in a thought experiment in which i outlined my own version of seasons 3-5 that stay thematically and tonally in line with the show (except they're less fucking stupid). but then i quickly realized that focusing on details is pointless: all you need is to solve the one Big Problem the show has, and the rest will follow. the problem in question? ✨morgana✨

i like the first two seasons. s1 achieves what it sets out to do and has fun while doing it, and s2, while flawed, sets up a ton of potential that the following seasons unfortunately squander, beginning with the insidious season 3. you can only distract me with cute knights and goblins and fart jokes for so long before i start seeing through you, evil, evil season of television.

my hypothesis is that if the writers had crafted s3 morgana into anything more sympathetic than a violent half-alive poltergeist that can never be reasoned with because she's suddenly terminally off her rocker, everything would've fallen into place. a sympathetic morgana would've made real, valid arguments against uther (and arthur) that wouldn't just be the ramblings of a woman possessed. her betrayal of arthur would have stemmed from her feeling increasingly morally superior to him because of his complacency in the face of their father's tyranny. under morgause's guidance she would stop believing that arthur is capable of change, and the whole point would be that she might actually be right. arthur would have to actively try and prove her wrong, instead of getting praised for doing the bare minimum because the bar is on the floor.

furthermore, morgana's prophetic dream about arthur and gwen becoming king and queen and her decision to prevent this however she can is a direct parallel to merlin learning about that same prophecy and making it happen by any means necessary. merlin's desires about his and arthur's futures are subtextually fueled by gay love and devotion, so why couldn't morgana's be? why couldn't she properly express her bitterness that arthur gets to be with gwen in a way she can't "took gwen away" from her, instead of suddenly declaring that gwen is nothing more than a servant, after two seasons of demonstrating again and again that she loves, values, and respects gwen more than anyone else in that godforsaken castle?

following this, an angry and emotionally volatile but still sensible morgana asking gwen to stay by her side during the coup of the castle in the s3 finale and gwen going behind her back to help arthur and the knights would've hurt like a bitch. double-sided betrayal! gwen having a real plot! the proper beginnings of a toxic yuri that would shape a generation!

then there's the utter hubris of having morgana shoot arrows at the same civilians she worried herself sick over for 2 seasons — even morgan, her medieval counterpart that was rooted in every sexist trope in existence, doesn't just go around killing senselessly but instead has (often petty!) personal vendettas against gwen, arthur, and the knights. morgana had every right to be sick of the pretensions around chivalry in camelot (she was always quick to mock it, even in s1), and to lash out at the knights and soldiers after years of feeling powerless in a castle full of armed men that blindly followed her oppressor. the show conveniently forgets that morgana was victimized as a woman as well as a sorcerer those first 2 seasons.

but like i said, this is not just about morgana. allowing her to remain a real and multifaceted character even as she betrays everyone in pursuit of her ambitions would've given the rest of the core four more interesting conflict to work with: merlin because he would have to experience real consequences to his actions, arthur because he would watch his sister go against his father (and his knights, and his birthright) and experience some actual internal dilemmas about it, and gwen because she would be forced to choose between morgana and arthur without the pretense that it's an obvious or easy choice for her to make.

even morgause and gaius would come off more interesting as mentors: neither one inherently evil or inherently good, both jaded by events that happened before our protagonists were even born, both heavily influencing morgana and merlin into fulfilling roles that they think are appropriate, but that morgana and merlin may not have chosen for themselves had they not been under their care.

you get the gist. if the show followed its own setup, morgana's mistakes wouldn't lie in cheap and senseless acts of violence but in alienating the people she loves because she is too hurt and jaded to trust them. meanwhile, everybody else would feel guilt over "failing" her and yet they would be too caught up in their own (sometimes flawed!) beliefs of right and wrong to truly see her point of view.

arthur would convince himself it was sorcery that corrupted her. merlin would know that isn't true but he wouldn't be able to argue without confessing everything, which is the defining conflict between him and morgana and it's cheapened when she's just an evil witch caricature and merlin is framed as inherently virtuous in contrast. gwen, too, would become a more active participant in her own life by choosing arthur over morgana and choosing to rule camelot with him instead of just waiting politely to see where things go.

and, of course, uther's downfall and death would be quick, final, and completely earned — when and why did the show even decide he of all people was the sympathetic villain, anyway?

lastly, and perhaps controversially, i think morgana should've learned merlin's true identity by season 4. her being the first of the main characters to find out makes perfect sense considering their shared history and their interconnected and mirrored arcs. even the show seems to agree, considering she does find out a little before arthur. but the narrative itself tried pointing flashing neon arrows towards this way earlier — there is a whole entire episode in s4 where merlin being emrys is repeatedly spelled out for morgana and she still isn't allowed to see it. that episode makes her look like the stupidest person to ever live, which is pretty funny im not gonna lie, but also another frustrating thing in the endless string of frustrating things that make up this show.

morgana learning that merlin has magic would've transformed the source of merlin's anxiety from a crippling fear of being outed someday to the crippling fear of knowing she could out him at any moment. this would make him want to beat her to the punch (perhaps he'd consider killing her for a minute and decide against it because she isn't a cartoonishly insane evil person in my version of events) and maybe he would even feel some tentative excitement at the idea of coming clean, now that it seems inevitable. after all, he always intended to tell arthur eventually! and i think gaius would have to admit outright that he does not want merlin to tell arthur he has magic because he, gaius, simply cannot risk such a gamble. it would be so interesting to see gaius and merlin clash and disagree once it becomes obvious that it's not merlin that isn't ready for the reveal, it's gaius. delicious!

with morgana's knowledge looming, things would inevitably spiral into a magic reveal by the end of season 4. i picture this season as an absolute mess of miscommunication between everyone at camelot, which is, y'know, canon. growing increasingly cunning and vengeful, morgana would use this tension to her advantage, destabilizing the court from the outside while she creates alliances with other sorcerers outside of camelot (instead of living alone in a hovel for no reason — morgana le fay i'm sorry i'm so sorry they gave you agravaine instead of your all-female entourage oh my god).

and here's where the events would change beyond recognition (aka here's where the meta becomes the fanfic i refuse to write). picture it with me: a militia of sorcerers infiltrates camelot and arthur and gwen have to set aside their differences (assuming gwen kissing lancelot and arthur overreacting happens, which it should) for the good of the kingdom as well as for love. picture high priestess morgana in her element, side by side with a bunch of misfit sorcerers that aren't so easily vilified, chopping down camelot's soldiers and knights and assuredly making their way to the newly-minted king.

then, just as it starts to seem that all hope is lost, in swoops merlin (the actual merlin, not his old fart disguise) on dragonback (kilgharrah hates morgana so much i know his sexist ass would stoop to anything to stop her)!!! imagine merlin showing off the extent of his powers in front of everyone and preventing the sorcerers from getting any further, declaring loud and clear that camelot is protected by him, by emrys. imagine that display of power alone being enough to send everyone home.

imagine the loyalties clearly drawn: merlin on arthur's side, morgana on the sorcerers'. imagine arthur, feeling confused and betrayed by everyone at this point, banishing merlin despite everything he's done for him in the angstiest, most emotionally dysregulated scene the show had ever put to screen. imagine merlin starting season 5 free at last but very lonesome, an embittered dragonlord like his father. imagine the absolute mess camelot would become without him, even with gwen — now queen guinevere — there to pick up the slack. imagine arthur actually earning merlin back, finally growing into his role as king as he does so. imagine the reunion.

all this and more could've been not just possible but inevitable if morgana was allowed to remain a complex character that is neither inherently good nor inherently evil: it was undeniably the biased and one-note treatment of morgana's downfall by the writers that set the precedent for literally everything else that happened after merlin chose to poison her. the show wouldn't have even had to jeopardize its tone or the monster-of-the-week vibe, all it would've had to do is admit that even the "good guys" are capable of mistakes and what makes them good is the ability to feel remorse and change for the better. (as opposed to uther, who was miles beyond redemption since way before the pilot and deserved to lose everything and die alone. OBVIOUSLY???)

in a world where morgana remains multifaceted and sympathetic, mordred would get a better arc as well, so if we really wanted to, we could still end on the same tragic note that the show ended on. with so much harm inflicted onto so many innocent people by the pendragons for so long (including mordred and the many druids and sorcerers that raised him), it could realistically end up being a little too late for anything more than one shining glimpse of king arthur and the sorcerer merlin's short-lived golden age before fate catches up to them. glimpsing that reality just to immediately lose it would've been far more satisfying and far more tragic than whatever the writers thought they were doing with all that pointless carrot-dangling.

and finally, an ending in line with morgana's new and improved arc. in this version, rather than bleeding out on the forest floor alone, she would channel the morgan le fay we know from the legends: sobered up by the reality of her brother dying, she would use her high priestess status (and perhaps also her pendragon status) to be granted passage over to avalon alongside arthur on the boat — a one-way ride — just to make sure he gets there safely. this is her penance for the harm she has caused, the same way arthur's penance is to die and leave the true ruler of camelot (gwen) behind to achieve everything he was too slow and indecisive to build while he still had time.

merlin's penance, then, would be to stay behind and watch them cross over without him, waiting and waiting and waiting until they come back or until he can finally join them. which is a bit fucking harsh if i'm honest, so i'd at least make it slightly more faithful to the legends by having him return as an old man and letting him take a long nap under a tree by the shore, his body slowly enveloped by vines like the cobwebbed fisher king in 3x08, never fully sure if he's dreaming or if there really are strange shapes fading in and out of the fog over the lake. still tragic, but nevertheless a little more open-ended and whimsical than [TRUCK NOISES] THE END!

[pa-pa-plasma]

hey i feel like we're really sleeping on that time Danny possessed Vlad & framed him for assaulting a minor

Editing with the clip because people don't believe me. Episode is 41: Eye for an Eye.

[dolphin-writer]

Story Idea That May Never Be Written

Danny almost 18, decides to leave home, Tucker has a new identity ready for him and everything. With help of Jazz he plans to finish his hs classes online.

Right before he leaves his parents find out/he got sloppy/ his mom freaks but his dad stops her and just hugs danny. He is confused, guilty, and hurt by maddies reaction. Tells danny he’ll handle maddy and to just go as he planed

Danny moves to Gothem, for its high ecto levels and basically chill not give a fuck attatude. And other than the petty crime which he knows he can handle it will be great. He finishes his hs classes and gets a job at a mechanics shop.

Jazz is in college in Metropolis as she thinks the rivalry between the sister cities is interesting to study. And now she can use it as an excuse to visit Gotham and Danny.

Sam and Tucker graduate and move to college. Sam goes to Gotham U where Danny is taking night classes as he is now a full time mechanic at the shop. Tucker is at MIT, working at a tech help store.

A year and a half after he ran Danny gets a message from his dad. Jack is now living in Metropolis near Jazz. Maddy lost it, something about everything hitting her at once, the knowledge that her son died in her machine and that she continued trying to end him for years after, and all the things Phantom had to do hit her at once and shifted something in her mind. She was not sane anymore. She wanted to get Danny legally marked as dead because a part of her knew he died. Jack tried to fight it until Jazz told him that it would be good for Danny to lose that last tie so he finally agreed. Shortly after Jack had her assessed and committed to the hospital and then pleaded to the courts for a divorce so he could focus on his last remaining child Jazz instead of watching Maddy rot away. The courts granted it and Maddy became ward of the state. Jack moved to Metropolis and got a job in helping design security systems. 

By the time Sam and Tucker were graduating Danny had risen to running the shop only below the owner. Sam got a job with a Dr. Pamala Islie working on keeping plants from going extinct and trying to revive ones that were. Tucker was still working part time at that tech repair shop but was really working on getting his own tech/coding business more widespread. 

Danny finished his night classes shortly after them and got a good pay raise with it. Right around this time a big bomb hit Gotham in the form of Gothams Prince Bruce Wayne had returned. No one officially knew where he had gone, lots had begun to doubt he would come back saying he was probably dead. So it was a shock to everyone. And soon gotham gossip came to life with the stories of the himbo playboy. Danny could care less but it was fun getting Sam wound up about him. 

Tuckers business officially took off with big names using it such as (Queen Industries, and other companies associated with future heroes) he moved permanently to Metropolis to be close but refused to move to Gotham saying the lack of sun would kill his complexion, which sam returned with like you spend any time outside anyway?

As a year passed Wayne Enterprise started expanding, small at first building up their departments before adding new ones. Then the Martha Wayne Foundation hit the streets. Founding food kitchens and clinics and pharmacies that were cheap to free for anyone. It made a difference for some. Danny started to question the Bruce Wynes' himbo status as it was clear that this wasn’t just a pr move.

Then two years after the circus that was Bruce Wayne's return as the city quieted back down to its normal levels, the people began to hear about a monster, a demon that had been hunting the criminals of Gotham, a shadow that would leave criminals tied up for the police to find. He was a story that word of, would not spread outside of Gothams borders. Now this was something Danny watched and listened for news of. This creature or man was taking over the city little by little and Danny was protective of the city that had become his home. But he was retired and happy so he waited and observed.

Eventually they got a name, Batman. The cost for them gaming the name was that villains, not just criminals were popping out of the woodwork every other week. It was getting concerning to team Phantom, and all of Gotham in general. The press started to blame Batman for these villains' existence, calling him a menace and demanding his arrest. And Danny was conflicted. This man, for he was just a normal human as far as they could figure, was trying his best to save people, stop a problem that was not his fault but he probably felt responsible for, and now the city was against him for it. Danny did not enjoy the parallels and the reminder of his old life, but he sympathized with Batman and became a very vocal supporter of him. 

Eventually others joined Danny in his support of Batman. Eventually the people calling for his arrest were drowned out by those thanking him for trying to protect them. Eventually the police stopped chasing him and started working with him, even asking for help at times.

Time passed Gotham adjusted, as it always does. Danny was getting bored, he loved the mechanic shop it had become his baby, he trained the new hires and even got a couple to tinker and build things with him. But he got home and was bored, so he started experimenting with baking. He had learned how to cook over his time of living in Gotham and quite enjoyed making food for his family, Sam was always stopping by to raid his fridge since he started experimenting with making vegan food. They even got Tucker to admit to liking it. So the natural next step was trying baking. His first few attempts weren’t a disaster but they weren’t very good either. But as time passed he got better but then he faced a different issue. What to do with all the deserts. Everyone he knew was given some, and then the rest were donated to a food kitchen. At Jazzes' suggestion Danny applied to work part time at a small bakery. It was right on the outskirts of Crime alley run by a couple of older ladies and their son. Danny got to bake and work on improving recipes and they got to sell what he made. Though they did try to set him up with their son several times after finding out Danny was bi. So life settled.

Then Batman got a partner, a child partner, and Danny got upset. He had been a child vigilante, he had barely survived being a chile vigilante. Danny who took in and trained as many street kids as he could at the shop. Danny who proudly watched those kids become adults and make it in Gotham. Danny who kept an eye on all the heroes popping up around the globe, and knew that none of them had brought kids into it. Danny who thought about “his” kids as he dug into Robin and realized that Batman was trying to protect the kid in the ways he knew how, and that Robin probably just like his kids didn’t really listen when you tell them no if they’ve set their mind on it. So Danny was still worried but no longer upset with Batman. 

Then Bruce Wayne started showing up at the bakery.

Bruce is a total dork who struggles with basic human interactions at times. So at a cafe/bakery he tells the 17yo cashier, “Compliments to the chief” like a weirdo. She awkwardly hollers back to Danny, who comes out confused.

Bruce has oh fuck hes hot.

*story happens in between but I don't know what*

Something happens Danny speeds away on his bike. Eventually taking it off a bridge into the water before going invisible and flying to his dads in Metropolis. He goes to the realms to lay low for two weeks after visiting with his dad for a couple days. He has to come back because one of his kids is getting married

Bruce who is crushing on Danny, is worried and talks to people. The ladies at the bakery point him in the direction of the mechanic shop. No one there is worried, they say Danny built that bike from the ground up, he has complete control of it, it couldn’t do something if he didn’t want it to. Plus Jerramy is getting married next month and Danny wouldn’t miss that, he’ll be back.  Bruce thinks these people are delusional and still worries and tries to find anything. He finds nothing but dick and Alfred have figured out that he definitely doesn’t have a crush guys, the mission. 

Danny shows up two and a half weeks later just in time to pick up his suit for the wedding. Bruce is kinda losing it. 

[dukeofthomas]

Do you see my vision

[blluespirit]

TL;DR: Zuko is not winning any Liar of the Year awards here, but he's by not a ‘bad liar’ either. He's also (apparently surprisingly) not sharing his every deep-seated thought and feeling to anyone and everyone and can in fact, keep a secret.

a canon vs fanon Zuko thing thing I see fairly often that I personally disagree with is that Zuko is constantly over-sharing and telling people too much about himself and his problems.

People love to use the Book 1 finale incident when he talks to Aang's unconscious body in the cave, but that feels like a bizarre example because... he's more talking to himself. He's not really talking to Aang. Aang can't hear him. Aang is literally none the wiser. It's not an inappropriate time or person or unreciprocated, and honestly the whole thing is more for the audience to get a sense of what in gods green earth is going through Zuko's mind considering how reckless this action was. And even if Aang was awake I still don't know if you could call it oversharing considering Aang has genuinely tried to reach out to Zuko before and tried to understand him (e.g., the Blue Spirit). Of all people, Aang would likely be the most receptive. Like... net zero information gained...

I've seen people use some examples with Iroh which I personally think is pretty ridiculous to count because it's not like he's saying anything Iroh doesn't already know??? Iroh is like the only one in Zuko's orbit who actually knew all the details about his banishment and trauma. I don't know how any scene Zuko could have with Iroh that you could call over-sharing. Zuko also never said shit to his crew about any of his past for like. two whole years. The most they thought of him was angry and spoiled. They didn't actually know anything about him. like... at all. Jee thought his scar was from a training accident.

People like to also use the scene on the ship with Mai in Book 3 when Zuko is returning to the Fire Nation, but even that feels like a bit of a stretch. Yeah, Mai dismisses him and tries to play it off, but nothing Zuko says feels 'too personal' especially when Mai is supposed to be his girlfriend and Zuko has literally not been home in three years. Telling your girlfriend/someone you trust how you feel in a obviously emotionally turbulent situation is not sharing too much, no matter their reaction or whether they asked first.

MAI: Aren't you cold? ZUKO: I've got a lot on my mind. It's been so long, over three years since I was home. I wonder what's changed. I wonder how I've changed. MAI: [Yawns.] I just asked if you were cold, I didn't ask for your whole life story. [Zuko frowns at her sarcastic response. Mai giggles and holds his face in her hands.] MAI: Stop worrying.

Another example I see is when Zuko rants to the badgerfrog. Again, not really an example since the badgerfrog is not a person and the story needed Zuko to Say Things Out Loud so we have some clue about what he's thinking. It's the same thing with the unconscious Aang. It's not oversharing. It's venting. And once again - net zero information achieved!!

Like, none of these instances feel like he's revealed too much information. None of it feels inappropriate in the context of the story.

I think people get 'over-sharer' and 'openly wearing your emotions' lines confused sometimes, but even that gets misconstrued in fandom.

I don't think that Zuko being more open with his emotions than other characters is an incorrect conclusion to make, however, I think there's something to be said about Zuko in book 1 and 2 using anger and rage as a coping mechanism rather than being vulnerable with his emotions.

Zuko will talk about his feelings a lot more in Book 3, which is actually super important to his arc, since he doesn't actually talk about his feelings in a real way in Book 1 and 2 (he's angry most of the time, and the only times I can remember when he does really talk about how he actually feels is usually when things have gotten Real Bad like when Zhao takes his ship or it's the anniversary of his banishment). In Book 3, he's really thinking and reflecting on how he feels and how he felt in different situations.

Even the 'Zuko is a bad liar' gets WAY over-played in fanon!

Yeah Zuko is not great at thinking on his feet when confronted, but it seems very context dependent, actually.

When in dangerous situations, while he's definitely not winning any Best Liar Ever Awards, he's not a bumbling fool either -

Zuko lies to Zhao about the Blue Spirit swords:

ZHAO: I didn't know you were skilled with broadswords, Prince Zuko. ZUKO: I'm not. They're antiques. Just decorative.

While not ultimately convincing, his delivery of it is far from terrible. The circumstances are against him here, though, after all, there are few people who hate Zhao enough to commit treason to stop him from capturing the Avatar than Zuko.

Zuko lies to Zhao about having found the Avatar:

ZHAO: [Pulls up alongside Zuko and smirks.] Two years at sea have done little to temper your tongue. So, how is your search for the Avatar going? ZUKO: [Aggressively.] We haven't found him yet. ZHAO: Did you really expect to? The Avatar died a hundred years ago. [Close-up of Zuko, as he slants his eyes.] Along with the rest of the airbenders. [Close-up of Zhao, whose face contorts in an evil expression.] Unless you have found some evidence that the Avatar is alive? ZUKO: [Faces Zhao and responds very clearly.] No. [Stares back in front of him.] Nothing. ZHAO: [With an expression of disbelief on his face, as he rises from his chair.] Prince Zuko, the Avatar is the only one who can stop the Fire Nation from winning this war. [Leans in and faces Zuko.] If you have an ounce of loyalty left, you'll tell me what you found. ZUKO: I haven't found [Looks up at Zhao and his tone becomes slightly more aggressive.] anything. [Close-up, as he continues on a softer tone, slightly mockingly.] It's like you said. The Avatar probably died a long time ago. [Gets up.] Come on, Uncle, we're going.

I'm not trying to say Zuko is secretly this great liar, but his effort here is commendable. It's his directness that gives him away, but he's not afraid, or nervous, or stumbling over his words like he's often portrayed to be.

Zuko confidently lies to Jet about not being a firebender:

[while on the ferry; you can see Zuko thinks for a second Jet knows who he really is. Jet doesn't pick up on this, and Zuko plays off his fear].

JET: You know, as soon as I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were. You're an outcast, like me. And us outcasts have to stick together. We have to watch each other's backs. Because no one else will. ZUKO: I've realized lately that being on your own isn't always the best path.

[during Zuko and Jet's fight]

JET: Bet you wish he'd help you out with a little fire blast right now. [As Jet swings at Zuko's feet, Zuko stabs one of his broadswords through the hilt, pinning it to the ground. Jet looks at it with annoyance before focusing back on Zuko.] ZUKO: You're the one who needs help.

Zuko, throughout these interactions, plays off Jet's comments. He's learnt to be vague sometimes (like on the ferry to Ba Sing Se) and be confident when refuting someone. Yeah Zuko did go straight for Bodily Harm but that's very on brand to me.

Zuko lies to Chit Sang about the escape plan without hesitation:

SUKI: But how are you going to get the cooler out? CHIT SANG: [From the staircase.] Yeah, how are you going to get the cooler out? [Jumps down.] SOKKA: [Covering up.] What? We didn't ... w-we didn't say that. ZUKO: Yeah, you heard wrong. CHIT SANG: I heard you hatching an escape plan, and I want in. ZUKO: [stern] There's nothing to get in on. SOKKA: Yeah, the only thing we're hatching is ... an egg? [Zuko lowers his head and Suki covers her eyes while they both sigh in annoyance.]

Zuko comes up with a lie to tell the guards at the Boiling Rock about keeping his helmet on:

MALE GUARD: Hey, new guy! I know it's the rule to have your helmet on at all times, but this is the lounge. Relax. ZUKO: [plays it up] But what if there's an incident? If I'm not prepared, someone could strike me on the head. [The guards laugh.] FEMALE GUARD: Give it a week, he'll loosen up.

However, Zuko most often has the most difficulty lying to people who are kind to him (and who are Azula tbh) -

In Crossroads of Destiny, Zuko and Iroh are now refugees and Zuko bungles this conversation with Song:

ZUKO: [Nervously] Yes, we're travellers. SONG: you have names? ZUKO: Names? Of course we have names. I'm, uh ... Lee and this is my Uncle, uh ... Mushi?

In Tales of Ba Sing Se, Zuko struggles to find even ground with Jin and doesn't know how to answer her questions:

ZUKO: You have ... quite an appetite for a girl. [He fiddles his thumbs awkwardly.] JIN: [Uncomfortably.] Umm ... thanks? So, Lee, where were you and your uncle living before you came here? ZUKO: Umm ... well, we've been traveling around for a long time. JIN: Oh. Why were you traveling so much? ZUKO: We were ... uh, part of this traveling circus. JIN: Really? What did you do? Wait, lemme guess. [She thinks for a moment and quickly points at him.] You juggled! ZUKO: [Zuko folds his arms and looks annoyed.] Yes, I juggled.

In Zuko Alone, he's at a loss for words when asked his name:

SELA: Does this guy have a name? ZUKO: [Nervously.] I'm... uh... GANSU: [Off-camera.] He doesn't have to say who he is if he doesn't want to, Sela. [Cuts to shot of him standing with his family.] Anyone who can hold his own against those bully soldiers is welcome here. Those men should be ashamed to wear Earth Kingdom uniforms.

Listen, he's not weaving any incredible tales here, but he's not this bumbling little uwu boy who's completely helpless without Iroh or the Gaang that for some reason is incredibly persistent in fan depictions of him.

[quietwingsinthesky]

it ever hit you out of nowhere that castiel is living in a dead guy's body and the show just does not care. it does not care. jimmy novak might as well not exist the moment he or claire is out of sight. cas stole a guy's body and his face and his life, and we can't ever talk about it or discuss it in detail because of how fucking horrifying it is that sam and dean's best friend just walks around in a dead guy suit. there's not even a human soul in there anymore. it's just a corpse. stone-cold body snatcher indeed.

[murdockhawkeye]

[alaskan-wallflower]

have yall seen kitbull? like that one short with the pit bull in the fighting ring and the little kitten and they become friends but everyone thinks the dog is really mean until they get a deeper look at gina bf see he’s just scared, and the cat never leaves his side no matter what because the cat loves the dog and sees its inner beauty that no one else does?

that’s johnny and dally in my head idk

[emile-hides]

I would like to lay claim now as the Number 1 Bucket Fan.

I will be drawing more of him.

[sunny-luna]

What’s up guys today I tormented my wife relentlessly