#anyways i am not a horror writer

[sapphicblight]

Idk if you have seen haunting of the hill house but I can't stop thinking of vegaspete in that universe. Like all of the cousins and brothers and like the conflict would be so delicious before finally arriving to love romantic or familial what have you. I just...there is really no horror au or spooky au when it comes to VP.

Like anything mike flanagan would suit them. I can literally see them playing out midnight mass. Vegas in the role of the priest bringing in a entity so that he may get the chance to live a life with Pete!

HI I LOVE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE SO MUCH MORE THAN I HAVE WORDS TO EXPRESS 👁️👄👁️

it’s a masterpiece. so much love was put into every single aspect of it, and it fucking SHOWS in the final product. i could write a novel length essay, but i won’t, because i’m trying to be normal about this. somehow. 

the possibilities for the theerapanyakuls’ various traumas manifesting as hauntings are endless and delicious, and imo could really work within canon as well. you mentioned midnight mass too for vegaspete and you’re definitely onto something there, because vegas has his weird religious culty vibe going on already with his naked firehazard mirror sessions. a lot of devil/demon metaphors have made the rounds for him (as well as a highly entertaining demon vegas au by @blackwatervial) and i’m a big sucker for anything that fits the ‘religious & horny’ aesthetic. 

i imagine vegas doing what his father demands him to do, and with each killing and round of torture and bad bdsm etiquette scene, his sins and inhumane acts begin to turn him into something inhuman. into a demon of his own making. it’s what he believes he was always meant to be, always was inside. a monster. maybe he also pushes himself to become like this to please his father. maybe his father is always calling him too soft, too human, so vegas strips away his humanity and flays his own soul into scraps to lay at his father’s feet — but it’s still not good enough. 

he starts getting delusions (or in his mind he finally sees the truth) about the reason for his failure being the main family, where korn is god and the guards are his angels keeping vegas from the glory he deserves because they’re punishing him for his sins. 

i’m remembering the bloodstain pattern on pete’s back during the coup, across his shoulderblades as if seeping from wounds left behind by angel wings having been ripped off. so yeah, maybe to vegas, pete is an angel, and in when he captures pete he strips him of his status, cuts into his halo, burns and then rips off his wings, and finally makes him join vegas in sin. he falls for pete, obviously, finds beauty in the extremely fucked up thing he’s remade pete into, worships pete in his own flawed way — and once he loves pete, the beautiful haze of it drops away. all that’s left is a man, broken beyond repair, all by vegas’ hands. angel or not, vegas destroyed the one good thing he had, the one thing that could have saved him. 

(on a non vegaspete sidenote, kim’s whole thing is protecting his family. the way kim’s fear could manifest, is that the moment he starts caring about someone, he can no longer see them as they are but rather as a brutally murdered version of themselves. it’s horrifying to look at, scares him to death, and it makes him push them away,even though the reason they look like this to him is because he loves and cares for them. he sees his brothers like that and one day he starts seeing chay like that too. maybe with chay the blood even drips down onto the floor, audible even when every other sound around them should be loud enough to drown it out. and it’s all part of his motivation to go to the extremes he does to both protect the people he loves and push them away; he’s terrified of them actually becoming the corpses he sees them as.)

🧍‍♂️ y’know how i said i wasn’t going to write an essay. i guess my final note is that the minor family compound was made for haunting, it’s practically asking for it, especially with its mazelike structure and all of vegas’ trauma weighing down the very air inside.

thank you so much anon for sending me this ask and making my brain go zoom, i had a lot of fun imagining vegas (and kim) getting haunted. 😊💖

(also, anyone who hasnt seen haunting of hill house go watch even if you don't like horror, trust me)

[helmtechnician]

text below the cut

while Her Imperious Condescension's colonial pursuits never falter, She does take breaks.

And when She stops, So do I.

And, on some rare occasions, when the crew leaves the docked ship to visit a space station,

I get to leave with them.

Onboard the station, they take care of me, as ordered.

I can't function well without the wires anymore.

Doesn't matter, I'm always connected to wires these days.

The mechanics dote on me, and I'm often the most intact of the helmsmen docked for maintenance.

Sometimes I wish the crew would be more careless with me, and give me a chance to fade, like the rest of them do.

But, I know that all She will give me are a few, rare, days.

Spent in my small body looking outside, for as long as She will allow. So I go through the motions.

[uncleardyn]

(alan wake-gravity falls crossover) man i love that character. you know, the deeply paranoid author who made a pact with a dark entity that ultimately ended with him stranded in another dimension separated from his loved ones for years at a time? takes place in the pacific northwest? has twin imagery associated with him and a reoccurring specific piece of symbology related to the unfortunate situation they're in? doesn't ever explain the reasoning behind his actions and instead just kinda goes "bro trust me"? yeah he also wears an outer layer of clothing with elbow pads on it, that one.

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee with a permanent collar around their neck.

Maybe Whumper used magic or simply a drill to seal a collar on their neck. A chain, a leather collar, one of those super cutesy fuzzy ones with a bow, it doesn't matter. Whumpee screams in pain getting it on and it somehow hurts worse once it's secured and dully throbbing.

The collar is too tight and they constantly feel out of breath. It constantly needs to be covered up with scarves or turtlenecks. They'd rather suffer in the heat than let anyone see. The worst part if that it is a permanent reminder of what happened. And they can't do anything about it without causing serious damage.

[diodellet]

.

[pokimoko]

hiii--- i know you mostly post/write about other fandoms but i just want to say that graceful degradation is probably one of THE best fics ive read of all time and i love it so so so much, it had me screaming into my pillow at like 2 in the morning. its such a unique and creative take on his backstory and the ANGSSTTT. oh my god...u are a genius

Thank you so much!!! Portal 2 was something I never imagined myself writing for, but I'm very glad I did, because writing that fic was a blast. It came out of my fondness for 'Flowers For Algernon' (which I read many years ago but has been stuck in the back of my mind ever since) and my need for a Portal fic that suited my particular niche of interests (which included, of course, my dear old friend angst). I'm so glad to hear you think of it so highly! That really means a lot 🥰

[acesammy]

can i say something?

The fact that sam is not focused on in the later seasons is actually fucking amazing if we consider the alternative to be what happened to dean.. which was character assassination if anything.

[ghostsofbeverlydr]

cannot fathom bravely announcing that you don’t read books only fan fiction in an advanced fiction writing class. like yeah we can tell

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 197

Adjective: Mournful

Noun: Quartz

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Mournful: feeling, expressing, or inducing sadness, regret, or grief

Quartz: a hard white or colorless mineral consisting of silicon dioxide, found widely in igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary rocks, and it is often colored by impurities (as in amethyst, citrine, and cairngorm)

[lesbians-all-the-way-down]

My life won't be complete until I name the other lead in the historical fiction I've decided I'm going to write.

[confused-and-dickless]

I am spinning my homemade blorbos in my head rn but I can't draw good and I don't even have a solid idea of what they look like. They don't even have names. But I know them like my own soul. And they're in love. And they're me. And they're everything. And they love each other. One of them loves soup. Tumblr I'm telling you you'd love these fuckers if only I know how to express anything about them. Maybe I'll write out their backstory and a few of their adventures.

[mysteria157]

Amateur

Nanami Kento x Reader

a/n: writing prompt game with a writer friend that turned into something funny. Pro tip: dont wax yourselves if you can help it.

**Also: while I am so happy you all like this, this was a collaboration. Some words are mine, some are theirs. But all of it is a collective appreciation of the man that is Nanami Kento 💕**

—

You cursed at the calendar, striking off your wax appointment-- today-- with strictly more force than necessary. While you knew Kento cared not which form he received you in, sleek or fuzzy, you couldn't help grieving the loss of the excited shiver he would give when his hand slipped down between peach-soft folds.

You tapped your nails on the wall, one hand planted on your hip. There was a beauty store nearby-- a big one. How hard could waxing yourself be? Surely?

Two hours later, lying half-naked on the sofa with your right labia stuck to your inner thigh with wax, and shrieking every time you tried to wax yourself free, you wondered if ending your life was the easier or harder way out.

This is fine.

You’re almost done right?

You move your thigh, howling into the air as dried wax pulls your skin in a way that’s not natural, reminding you that no you are not almost done.

Ittakes you another excruciating half hour to free one of your folds, angry tears collecting like dew drops in your eyes. You curse to the ceiling, squaring your shoulders for a battle you’ve started, hot wax ready to go when the front door jiggles.

"I'm home." Monotone, flat-- done for the day, as Kento often was. Unbeknownst to him, the horrors were yet to continue. He blinked, unseeing as he shucked off his shoes, his glasses, his work jack--

Kento froze, his gaze fixed on you. The barest widening of his eyes; the slightest flare of his nostrils. He drank you in; legs spread, sweating, one fuzzy labia and one bare.

He cleared his throat, and began, mild and flat, "Goodness me. It must be my lucky day."

“A lucky day for you, is turning out to be miserable for me,” you whine, grabby fingers reaching for him over the cusp of the sofa. “I’ve made a mistake.”

“You saved some for me. I’m pleased.”

As he strolls into your view, he meets your glare, soaking in the flush of your cheeks, the slight twitch of your legs to hide yourself.

Kento knelt before you. He assessed the damage, and noted that you'd (bravely or foolishly) plastered both of your labia with hot wax. Now, in the wake of your hellish first tug of the wax, you were forced to confront the reality of a second.

Kento sighed, barely a huff of air through his nose. He rolled up his sleeves, to your frantic head shakes, and his slow head nods. His voice rumbled through you.

"I hate to berate you at a time like this--"

"--but you're going to anyway--"

"-- but this was…avoidable."

You scoffed. His impassiveness was a thin veneer. You squealed, trying to clamp your legs shut as he batted your thighs aside, effortlessly settling himself between them, and anchoring your labia with one hand, while grabbing the edge of the wax with the other.

"You should know," Kento lied, a glimmer in his eyes, "that I take no pleasure from this."

With critical accuracy, Kento ripped.

You shrieked, soul shaking, windows rattling with the threat the shatter. Distantly, you think of every wax appointment you’ve rescheduled, taking for granted the quick efficiency of your waxer, convinced you could actually do this on your own.

By the time the ringing in your ears subsides, you pick up the subtle ruffling of pressed fabric. Flickering teary eyes over to your husband, you resist the urge to reach over and smack.

He’s laughing, muffled in deep rich puffs, his shoulders moving with barely contained glee. He holds up the evidence of your misery, a white strip with barely any peach fuzz collected with thick wax.

“Stop laughing,” you hiss, swinging a weak arm in his direction.

Kento dodged you the first time, then let you land the second smack, as penance for his sins. Still, the mirth collected as tears in his eyes. He coughed, wiped his lash line, and looked at you with adoration.

"I love you," he rumbled, trying not to laugh, "but you're an idiot. And I have a serious question for you."

"What?" You asked him, wary and panting.

"Do you want me to wax your ass, or…?"

Smack.

[drchucktingle]

do you have any advice for writers who are trying to get their first book published?

as usual i will preface this with the reminder there is no 'correct' way to make art. i am not universally 'right' about any of this, but i can let you in on my thoughts and things i have noticed if that helps

more than anything what i would recommend to any artist is to find joy in the TROT, not the result. set goals that are in the action of doing, not in some future ending where you have 'become' something.

in other words, i have never dreamed of being a writer, i dream of writing.

its not about being an actor one day, its about a life of acting. its not about being a painter one day, its about a life of painting. its not about being a singer one day, its about a life of singing. if you can find joy and gratitude and RESONATE WITH THIS TIMELINE through the act of creation, then there really is no stopping you because you are not relying on any external systems to reach your goals you are fueled entirely from yourself. this also accounts for the fact that LUCK AND CIRCUMSTANCE are a huge factor in many of these big dreams, but they are rarely a huge factor in your ability to simply create. you are already a creator, we are all creators

when you do this the timeline will bend to you, not the other way around

as a BUSINESS BUCKAROO i will never do anything that is me BEGGING AND PLEADING for attention from a larger entity (publishing company, tv studio, what the heck ever). i am not over here worried and biting my fingernails. anything that feels like a LOTTO TICKET where i say 'please please please pick me' is not how i operate. instead i love working with buckaroos who see me as an equal entity and the discussion is 'you are cool, we are cool, lets trot together'

how did i get to the place where this is a mutual conversation instead of chuck begging for crumbs of attention? i focused on LOVING THE ACT OF CREATING not the desire to be a creator.

chucks big five publishing deal happened because i wrote a horror novel myself and then tweeted out 'would anyone like to traditionally publish this book?'. no query letters, no agent, THATS IT.

but that is ALSO the short version. the long version is that i spent a decade creating and publishing my own stuff BECAUSE I LOVE CREATING AND PUBLISHING MY OWN STUFF

THAT is how i would recommend approaching these things. YOU are doing your cool as heck thing and when that starts to resonate with this timeline others will be drawn to it. if that means sending out query letters to agents and all that then HECK YEAH go for it bud, just so long as you maintain the MENTALITY that you are looking for an equal partner not a one in a million ticket BECAUSE YOU WILL BE MAKING THIS INCREDIBLE ART ANYWAY, AND IF THEY WANT TO COME ALONG AND RIDE WITH YOU THEN LETS TROT, AND IF NOT LETS STILL TROT BECAUSE YOU ARE A VALID, WORTHY CREATOR REGARDLESS

so i guess thats my publishing advice

[livelaughpeg]

I'm writing this from a throwaway account, because you know...Scientology.

I want to preface this post by saying I am not one of those "I knew it all along!" people. I can't stand that attitude. I was pretty ambivelant towards Neil Gaiman. Prior to the allegations, I didn't hate him but I wasn't that interested in him as a person either. I don't think you can always tell when someone is a bad or good person simply by the topics they write about. If that was the case we'd be arresting every horror writer on earth.

But one thing that did always rub me up the wrong way was the way he talked about getting work.

I borrowed and read "Make Good Art" (a small book based on a speech he gave to graduates at the University of the Arts) at a time in my life that I was really struggling to get by (I still am to some extent, but in a different way). I expected to see some practical advice. Instead it was a bunch of glib shit like:

I got out into the world, I wrote, and I became a better writer the more I wrote, and I wrote some more, and nobody ever seemed to mind that I was making it up as I went along, they just read what I wrote and they paid for it, or they didn’t, and often they commissioned me to write something else for them. Looking back, I’ve had a remarkable ride. I’m not sure I can call it a career, because a career implies that I had some kind of career plan, and I never did. The nearest thing I had was a list I made when I was 15 of everything I wanted to do: to write an adult novel, a children’s book, a comic, a movie, record an audiobook, write an episode of Doctor Who… and so on. I didn’t have a career. I just did the next thing on the list.

Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do. Make good art. I’m serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it’s all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn’t matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

Yeah, well, no shit. If you're a writer or artist you probably do anyway. Whether you get paid for it or not, whether you draw fan art or original art. But the point of Gaiman's speech was to give advice to people who wanted to be paid for their art. To make a career of it. Making art every day isn't always enough. You have to pay the damn rent, you have to eat, you have to network and do social media and promote yourself, and you have to do it while thousands of other people are doing the same thing in a massive crowd of people who want the same thing. Practical advice is much more valuable than platitudes and theory.

I am not a writer, I'm an illustrator, and let me tell you that for most people, 'getting your foot in the door' isn't a one time thing. Quite often you have to work at getting your foot in the door again and again until you become established, and it's very easy to be forgotten. I still feel like I'm in that stage now.

I watched my peers, and my friends, and the ones who were older than me and watch how miserable some of them were: I’d listen to them telling me that they couldn’t envisage a world where they did what they had always wanted to do any more, because now they had to earn a certain amount every month just to keep where they were. They couldn’t go and do the things that mattered, and that they had really wanted to do; and that seemed as a big a tragedy as any problem of failure.

The implication was that he was successful because he wrote every day and his friends weren't because they didn't, because you know, working a second job is tiring. He called this a tragedy, but there was something very glib about the way he narrated this.

I think someone had more financial cushion that he was letting on.

And yes, sometimes it does work that way, (some people are very lucky and make all the right connections) but Gaiman was getting Big Jobs right off the bat and something about that never smelt right to me after the way he talked about it.

And then I saw Jeff's tweets. Oh, that's why...

I suspect the truth is he was living off his family's money and connections, and while I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with that if you're a struggling artist, his family are Scientologists, and I don't think he ever struggled.

I suspect it's all a lie.

[httpsobi]

YOU...YOU CAN DO THAT? “a spider-reader x team"

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, they/them (gender neutral) reader addressed as spider cause if you can't tell i'm very creative, inspired by miles morales spiderman cause hes my fav, no beta we die like aunts and uncles in spiderman movies/comics, canon-typical violence (not heavily detailed).

A/N + to the anon who requested this nearly a year ago, i'm so sorry pookie the writer block put me in a author coma of sorts. despite this being a year late and trash, i hope you enjoy regardless, and i'm hoping to get more active with my writing again! enjoyyyyyy!

REQUEST + "Oops here I am again (the same anon who requested a reader with spider like abilities).. I forgot to specify 😭 but like maybe could you do idk a first meeting between the YJ and the reader (they/them btw)? Would they be creeped out with the readers' abilities or would it go like 'oh wooooow. Show us how it works!'?"

KF & AQ "Kid!" Kid Flash turns to Spider as he sprints across the buildings adjacent to them. They struggle to match his pace, but as he slows to stick his landing, they manage to catch up and yell at a simple instruction that nearly has him freezing in his tracks out of horror.

"Jump!"

"What?" They flinch at the loud screech that pierces through their earpiece. "No way- are you crazy?!"

"Just-"

Their eyes widen as they watch the monster they've been trying to lead away from the populated city centre leaps into the air behind him.

"-do it!"

Kid Flash hesitates for a moment, they can see it on his face, ready to ignore their request when the creature lets out a rumbling roar.

The ground shakes under his feet as the monstrous thing lands on the building behind him and his face drops into a comical expression.

He spares it a glance over his shoulder, and with its claws reaching out from him, he takes the leap, narrowly avoiding the sharp nails, but as he flails around in the air, weightless, he wonders-

does he really prefer concrete over nails?

He shuts his eyes, readying himself from an impact that- never comes. Rather, there's something sticking to his stomach before he's being yanked to the side, and then- up.

Instead of the smack of concrete, he hits a person, their arms wrapped around him as they roll both of them through the force.

Kid Flash, finally, shoots up and opens his eyes.

Spider and Kid Flash are sat on their asses with matching shellshocked looks, staring down at the building across of them, where that beast shares a similarly confused look as it watches the street below them.

The two turn to blink at each other, shuffling to their feet as they let out joyous cheers that sound almost like screams (poor Kaldur's ears can testify), arms wrapped around each other as they jump with like two middle aged men who's football team just scored the final point.

"Dude, we did that!"

"Right?! I thought I was gonna fall to my death but then you just-!"

"I didn't even know how I did that! It was sheer animal instinct-"

Needless to say, Kaldur was less than happy, and no more "jumping-off-the-building-and-praying" was permitted or attempted. 

Not around Kaldur anyway.

ART & SUP Superboy fails to punch through it, the cage simply folding and stretching around his fist before it pushes him, his shoulder bumping into Artemis'.

"Are we stuck in here until Robin gets back?" Artemis asks with a irritated sigh, turning to look at Spider.

They seem mystified, a mischievous glint in their eyes that she can make out through the big cartoonish eyes of the mask as they take in the strange cage.

Their hands press against the cage, palm flat as they give it a little experimental shove before she can make out their eyebrows rising.

Their palms start to spark, and the red hue of the cage begins to light up a pale blue, "Nope."

The crackles of electricity grow louder and Artemis and Superboy step back just as an awful cracking sounds and-

The cage bursts around them, Spider's sent flying back into Artemis, who's then sent back into Superboy and the three hit the floor with matching grunts.

There's a moment of silence, before Artemis is shoving Spider off of her and rolling off of Superboy herself. As the three sit themselves up slowly, Artemis can make out Spider nodding to themselves with what she thinks is pride.

"I didn't know you could do that." Superboy comments plainly as the three slowly get back to their feet.

Blinking at him, Spider wiggles their fingers at him with a smile.

"Me neither."

MG & ROB With a grunt, Robin sits up with a grimace, hand on his head as his eyes readjusts when he manages to make out Bane stood just in his eye-line.

Bane isn't looking at him though, instead the man's eyes are trained on Miss Martian floating in the air, hands outstretched out in front of her.

She's clearly too busy managing her telekinesis to notice the hulking man anger as he grabs onto one of the many large pieces of machinery lying around the abandoned factory and prepares to ambush her. 

Miss Martian, watch out!

Robin's voice rings out in her head, and M'gann whips around, eyes landing on Bane.

Before either of them can react, something is suddenly flying through the air and with a loud thwack- Bane is lying on the floor, looking a lot less angry and unconscious. Now up on his feet, Robin slowly approaches Bane, M'gann landing on his side as the pair blink down at whatever hit him.

Upon inspection, it's the barrel tank that those cement trucks carry. Empty, sure, but Robin's not surprised that guy was put to bed.

What's more surprising?

"Woooo, my aim's getting good, no?" Spider grins, bouncing on their feet as they approach the two.

"You... you threw that?" Miss Martian asks carefully.

"Duh, who else?"

"Oh. Well, thank you." She offers, a little dumbfounded but Spider doesn't seem to notice.

"How?" Spider blinks at Robin, who's been silently gawking at them as they approach.

"What do you mean, 'how'? I just threw it. "

Robin sputters at them, left eye twitching under his mask as he watches them stretch their arms out over their head with no care in the world.

"That's not- that's impossible?"

"Nuh, uh! Just grab, do a couple spins to get some speed and let go- works pretty well."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?! I'm plenty strong!"

Safe to say that Robin made them perform a couple of strength tests when they got back to the cave, and now Robin's worried Spider might not be aware of the fact that most people can't just throw around cement trucks.

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

[worthyprnce]

random merlin episodes I wish we had:

a stuck in the same day over and over episode — where someone, obviously merlin, is somehow magically stuck living the same day again and again but only he knows that. we missed so many opportunities. so many magic reveals and so many different reactions to it, specially from arthur and perhaps the knights too.

a halloween special — with a much darker and scarier mood, with less comic relief and more horror. we have a few dark scenes along the show, a whole episode of it would be so cool

a merlin x doctor who crossover — I have this inside joke with a friend that the diamair (that alien looking creature that helps gwaine in the first two episodes of season five) was BBC's way of pushing doctor who into the show, and it would be so nice if it was true. it didn't even have to be a merlin episode, it could be a doctor who episode where the doctor and the companion (I don't remember exactly which ones would be, I guess the 11th?) get back to save the diamair and they help them find a better place to live. and then we see the doctor hiding away from gwaine and percy, and then merlin and arthur and morgana (and all the guards and all) until they can finally talk to the diamair alone. and along the episode we see the characters going as the episodes in merlin canonically did, but in the doctor's pov.

a breaking the fourth wall episode — fleabag style. maybe merlin is the only one who can break the fourth wall, but I like to imagine everyone can, but no one else knows that's a thing everyone could do it. I don't know how this would be explained in cannon, but it would be fun

a green knight episode — where we follow (merlin follows) gwaine in a cheaper version of the tale of the green knight where the writers would obviously time compress a whole year into a few days, give cheap and lazy explanations and the green knight would probably be some random morgana's ally but I would love it anyway

a knights episode — actually I would have loved a spinoff of the knights with two seasons minimum, but at least one whole episode following their pov would be so much fun. maybe something happens and now we watch each of them along their day in flashbacks or something like that, until said thing happens and they have to collect all the puzzle pieces and try to understand what is going on and what happened and why and how to solve it. bonus points if merlin solves it all off screen and they all think that they did it, so now they are all proud of themselves. merlin obviously lets them take the credit for it, but this time he doesn't feel bad about not getting the credit he's due for saving the day once again. he feels happy to see his friends all happy and proud.

an animated episode — I am a huge lover of animation and just thinking about all the characters in an animated style version of themselves makes my heart warm. I love it so much, it would have been soooooo fun and so cute. it could have been an special, didn't even have to be an actual episode. like a christmas special maybe? I don't celebrate christmas so I don't know what would happen, just that it would be animated.

one or some of the characters turn into children — I think it would so fun and so cute to have merlin, gwen, gaius and maybe leon taking care of baby/child arthur. bonus points if uther is still alive and they have to hide baby arthur from him. or worse, all the knights turn into different aged children, leon is a teenager, gwaine has around 11/12, elyan has 7 and percival has 2, and merlin is going insane trying to keep up with them at the same time he tries to solve this mess as soon as possible. I would love the absolute chaos.

a merlin's birthday episode — nothing bad happens, we just get to watch everyone doing their best to come up with a good gift for merlin. and he is so confused as to why everyone is acting so strange around him (but they think they're being stealth and doing a good job). in the end they get the date all wrong and merlin's birthday is like, in six months or something.

that's all I can think of right now, and I know most of them (maybe all of them) don't even make much sense and wouldn't be possible to make in canon, but hey I can dream.

if I ever think of something else I'll do a part 2