#heh changed my mind might as well use the fandom tags it's still part of the lore

[thesorcerersspouse]

It's nothing too bad honestly, I just made myself uneasy drawing this with very raw feelings

Swann is not proud of this side of him

It added pressure to Cedric too... He was already dealing with a lot but the shame of this event really didn't helped...

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled on your sister even if I can't stand her

[poesparakeet-fics]

Here you go, you thirsty beasts.

This one got long so it’s a 2 parter! It’s SFW, so enjoy it at the link or here in the post.

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Caduceus Clay & The Mighty Nein, Caduceus Clay & Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay & Mollymauk Tealeaf, Caduceus Clay & Yasha Characters: Caduceus Clay, Jester Lavorre, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Yasha (Critical Role), Nott | Veth Brenatto Additional Tags: Tickling, Revenge, Shrinking, wild magic mishaps, safeword, Teasing Summary:

Caduceus has made a habit of tickling some of his companions, be it as a cheer-up, a settle-down or a playful punishment. When a mishap with some wild magic makes his smaller than his friends, a few decide to get a little revenge.

FIC

Caduceus didn’t mind arcane magic most of the time, after all, Caleb used his with great expertise.  But he was getting real tired of wild magic, real fast. 

When Jester had cast her guiding bolt she’d gotten butterflies, for Mother’s sake. He’d tried to heal Fjord and saw everything around him start to stretch and grow. They kept fighting, of course. It wasn’t until the last of the shrieking horrors was lying dead that he realized what had actually happened. 

The world hadn’t grown, he had shrunk. Which was, to be fair, easier to deal with. Still, he was feeling pretty sorry for himself as he sat with his feet dangling from the side of their kitchen table, now only a few inches taller than Veth.

A visiting Shadowhand was peering at Caduceus with a small frown on his face before scratching his head and sighing. 

“Alright. The bad news is, I don’t think we can dispel it. Jester said you tried a restoration spell?”

Caduceus nodded glumly. 

“Well the good news is, it will almost certainly wear off. The spell is using energy to maintain this form in you, it will run out of that energy eventually. But… I cannot tell you how long it will last. Based on the rate of decay I would guess a few days but that is some conjecture on my part.”

Caduceus let out a sigh. 

“Thank you for your help, Essek. I guess I’ll just have to live with my current… uh… change in perspective for the time being.”

“Yes, a good attitude to keep. I’m sure it’s been a long time since you were that small.”

“Huh. Yeah, I guess I would have been a baby. Maybe I’ll ask Veth for pointers.”

“I think that all of her advice will involve climbing, Herr Clay. You might need to make your own way.” Caleb chuckled from his seat nearby. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He had been watching Caduceus like he was a puzzle, but now he was smiling, having been assured that the situation wasn’t too serious.

“Yeah, you might be right.”

Caduceus hopped off the table, turning to see Caleb smothering a little half smile. Caduceus pointed a finger accusingly.

“You cut that out.”

“I’m very sorry. It’s just… it is very cute.”

…

“Caduceus, can I hug you?”

Yasha had walked through covered in rainwater not ten minutes before, but she’d returned in dry clothes. Caduceus, about halfway through drinking a now comically large mug of tea, looked up to meet her gaze. He could see the little haunt of loneliness in her eyes that sometimes creeped in, even in a house full of lovers.

“Yeah, of course.” 

He put his tea down carefully before hopping off his seat. He started to pass her into the living room, but Yasha sat at the table and pulled him into her lap instead.

“Woah!”

“Sorry!” Yasha rushed out, “I didn’t mean to surprise you! You were lighter than I thought you’d be!”

“It’s OK,” Caduceus assured her, “I’m just not used to being picked up.”

Yasha wrapped him up in her arms. “Is this alright?”

He relaxed as she coiled herself around him, face buried in his soft hair. 

“Yeah. That’s very nice.” Being held so literally felt old and new at the same time.

Yasha nuzzled his head. “I’ve wanted to do this since you shrunk. I love you when you’re big, but it’s so nice to get to squeeze you for once!”

Caduceus chuckled. “It’s nice to be squeezed, honestly.”

“And you’re so cute! I just want to eat you up! Omnomnom!”

Caduceus felt his whole spine twist on instinct when Yasha gnawed playfully at the back of his neck.

“No-ho!” He squeeked, so high pitched that both of them froze in shock. 

“Aw, Caduceus…”

“... It would be really unfair to tickle me. Just because you’re bigger than me now--” He was cut off when he had to press his lips together to smother another peel of laughter.

Yasha grinned with her teeth still pressed against his skin.

“I dunno, you tickle the others plenty.”

“Because they need it!”

“Hehe. I think that’s probably true, but they never get you back because you’re always so scared of hurting them by accident. Isn’t that because you’re bigger than them?”

She blew a raspberry on the side of his neck that made him squeal far too loud. He heard approaching footsteps. 

“No no no nonono!” He squeaked when he realized what they meant.

Jester bounded through the door first, magnetically drawn to any ticklish sounds in her vicinity. She stopped in her tracks when she walked into the kitchen to see a smiling Yasha with a giggling fun-sized firbolg in her lap, now curled in a desperate little ball within her embrace to avoid the fingers pinching at his tummy.

“Oh my goodness, is little Caduceus ticklish?”

“Nohoho!” Caduceus tried to plead or run, but his laughter was blocking the former and a meaty arm was blocking the latter.

“Mmhmm,” Yasha answered with one hand clawing his belly, not even out of breath for the effort she was expanding to thwart his escape, “I think big Caduceus is too, he’s just easier to tickle now.”

Molly and Veth stumbled in behind Jester. Molly had a grin on his face, coming to stand behind her and rest his chin on her shoulder. His eyes narrowed.

“Hey, he’s being real loud, eh?”

“Huh?” Jester answered.

“Well, it seems like he might need to settle down a little.”

“Ooh,” Jester giggled, “I think you’re right Molly!”

Caduceus felt a cold chill splash down his back. Sure, he’d seen this coming, but it didn’t stop the escalation of shivery, giggly panic through his system. And running was not working out for him.

“Well,” Molly purred, “Isn’t it lucky that we have such well established guidelines for getting someone to settle down.”

Caduceus switched gears, climbing further into Yasha’s lap instead and clinging to her shoulders.

“Please! Don’t let them get me!”

“I dunno…” Yasha teased as the tieflings stalked closer.

“No! Yasha, they’ll kill me!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t let them kill you. But you do deserve this just a little, don’t you?” Yasha lowered her voice, all but whispering in his velvety ear, “Don’t forget, licorice works for you too.”

Caduceus whimpered. Ok, so did he deserve it? Yes. Probably. A little. Had there been a few times where he’d tickled a tiefling to pieces less because they needed to settle down and more because it was fun? Maybe. Perhaps. A couple of times, tops.

He took a deep breath to try and steel himself, shutting his eyes tight in the hopes that not seeing them coming would somehow save him. Yasha chuckled in his ear, seeming to sense his acceptance of this fate. 

“Heh. OK,” she whispered in his ear.

Fingers as strong as barrel bands gripped his ankles and Yasha stood up. The world spun. Balance upended, Caduceus eye’s shot open to see the devilish forms of his approaching friends as they cheered Yasha on, only upside- down. Yasha was hanging him by his ankles. 

“Don’t be too mean or I’m eating tief toes for dinner, got it? He’s not used to it.”

Molly’s smile became razor sharp and Jester clapped her hands. Caduceus could only hug himself and try to keep his shirt from falling over his head. 

“Not used to getting a taste of his own medicine, you mean? Seems to me that should be corrected.” Molly purred.

"Ah! Can we please talk about this?" Caduceus asked, the tiniest hint of a whine making its way into his usually rumbling voice.

"You can talk all you want, Caduceus!" Jester bent over to put her face next to his. She gave him a teasing wink before planting a sweet little kiss on his cheek.

"Veth?" He asked, looking pleadingly at his fellow (currently) small creature, "Solidarity? Please?"

Veth just laughed at him. "Nah."

"But you're going to help us though, right Veth?" Jester asked, voice full of mischief. "When will you get the chance to tickle Caduceus again?"

"Heh. Nah." The halfling answered, strolling out of the room. "I'm good, thanks." 

"Humph." Jester pouted for a moment, but it quickly morphed into a wicked little smile as she reached out to tickle Caduceus' long velvety ears.

"Ahhahaha- hehe- ha... no... no... MOLLY GET AWAY FROM THERE!"

The other tiefling cackled with glee, pinching Caduceus' knees. The firbolg’s legs pumped on reflex, his body wiggling like a worm on a hook. 

"So loud! You're not settled yet, love, just relax."

"I wahahahas born settled!"

"Oh reeeally? Jester teased him, hands jumping up to poke and pinch at his ribs, effortlessly dodging any attempt he made to block her. "Then why are you so loud and wiggly, huh?"

'B-because you- eeheeheehee! Tiheheheckles!"

"Does it?" Molly taunted, dropping down to Jester's level and fluttering his hands across his belly. 

"Yehehes!"

"Excellent!" Molly cheered, before grabbing the hem of Caduceus' shirt and yanking it down over his head. 

Caduceus squawked, temporarily blinded by the homespun linen that was now tangled around his elbows. He started to fight with it, trying to push it down (up?) again to cover his downy torso, for all the good it was doing. Then he felt a cool pair of lips press against his belly, and he squealed before Jester could even begin.

Ppppbbbbtt

“Aaaaiii! NahahaHAA! STAHAP!”

Caduceus’ pleas fell on deaf ears, Jester only pausing long enough to take a deep breath and giggle to herself before she hit him again. 

"Yes! Wish I could grow a beard just for this, you fuzzy bastard." Molly crowed.

Caduceus whimpered frantically, his shirt somehow transformed into an impossible maze that kept him blinded and defenseless.

An ominous silence was followed by a deadly double attack made Caduceus’ voice crack with the force of his squeal. “AHAaaA! LICORICE!”

The both backed off right away, leaving Caduceus dizzy and catching his breath. Jester started to help him get untangled from his shirt. Molly grinned down at him before taking a deep, threatening breath to make Caduceus shriek in anticipatory panic.

Molly didn’t get a chance to make good. In one more dizzying instant Caduceus was set upright on his feet, watching Yasha chase Molly out of the room. 

“WHAT did I say?”

“C-come on I wasn’t gonna do it! Yasha! Please! He threatens me like that all the-- Nooo!”

Jester chuckled at Caduceus’ dazed expression, pulling him into a cuddle where they stood. 

“You OK Caduceus?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

“That’s good. It was fun to tickle you for a change!”

“Well I’m glad it was fun, because when I’m big again there are going to be consequences.” 

Jester just giggled at him, then tugged him to sit on a chair and put his tea cup back in his hands with a kiss on his cheek.

[bi-naesala]

A "romantic" bathroom confession

Fandom: Yakuza Rating: G Warnings: / Relationships: Han Joon-gi/Zhao Tianyou Characters: Zhao Tianyou, Han Joon-gi, Kim Yeonsu Additional Tags: Emotional Constipation, Love Confessions Summary:

Sure, he could ask him directly what’s going on, but he has the feeling that, by asking him, they’ll both have to uncover some parts of themselves that Zhao doesn’t think they’ll ever be able to show the other, not when they’ve lived so long without ever showing their cards to anyone. No, he’d better not ask. Who knows if he’d like the answer Han gives him anyway.

(Also on AO3)

It’s been a couple of days since when… well, Zhao doesn’t know exactly what happened, but Han has been acting weird: at first, he was quiet, or at least quieter than usual, then he’s begun doing some small things that can only perplex Zhao.

First things first, the pda. Well, to normal couple standards it isn’t much, but considering that we’re talking about Joon-gi Han, it is: he’s begun hovering over him during every moment of pause, going even as far as brushing their shoulders together or even hold his hand and doing all those romantic gestures that a one-week boyfriend would make in order to impress you, which isn’t something that Han really has to do: he’s already impressive on his own, without the need for any of this.

Not that Zhao doesn’t enjoy being pampered, don’t get him wrong, but this doesn’t mean that this sudden change of behavior doesn’t confuse him.

Is Han planning something? He can’t help but to wonder about that…

Sure, he could ask him directly what’s going on, but he has the feeling that, by asking him, they’ll both have to uncover some parts of themselves that Zhao doesn’t think they’ll ever be able to show the other, not when they’ve lived so long without ever showing their cards to anyone.

No, he’d better not ask. Who knows if he’d like the answer Han gives him anyway.

  When Zhao takes his first step outside Survive, he almost jumps when he notices Han, crouched down in front of a vase, the one usually Ichiban uses to in order to grow vegetables for the barkeeper. That’s not something he was expecting to see. Curious.

“Han-chan, what are you doing there?”

“Oh?” Han turns his head towards him, not having noticed him there at first. “Nothing much. I’m watching them grow.” Them being two plants of lillies, who everyone knows is his favorite.

“Are these the ones Kasuga-kun said he was trying to grow?” he asks then, crouching down beside Han.

“No,” the other replies, not moving his gaze away from the blossoming flowers. “These I planted myself.”

Zhao hums at those words, though his face betrays no emotion.

 What the hell is this?

Now, Zhao doesn’t want to make assumptions, but it’s pretty fucking obvious what Han wants to do with the flowers he’s going to harvest, c’mon!

Why is he doing all this? They’re already together, there’s no need for any of this typical couple bullshit!

 Oh well, if one day Han shows up with a bouquet for him, he’s not going to complain.

After all, thinking about it, there’s a place that needs a bit of… something. Yeah, a nice vase of flowers over the shelf at the entrance would look nice, thinking about it.

  Usually, when they want to have dinner, they’d go to Meng Wu and Zhao would cook something for them, which might seem cheap, but they don’t mind it. Besides, it feels more intimate like this, and it’s also good since they don’t really want to draw attention to themselves and in Meng Wu that’s not going to happen.

This time, however, things are different: Han has insisted upon taking Zhao to dinner and, after a moment of perplexity, Zhao has accepted, because he doesn’t mind change and he’s curious to see where Han’s taking him.

 “Wow…” is all Zhao is able to say once he realizes where Han is taking him, standing in front of the entrance of the place.

Of all things, he wasn’t expecting Le Nouveau Hama. It’s very different from the usual restaurants they go to - they never go anywhere this fancy, even with the others.

He turns towards Han. “You managed to book us a table here?”

“Impressed?” Han replies. He looks very pleased with himself, and for once Zhao can’t really blame him.

No, he can’t blame him at all.

 As soon as they enter, Zhao feels immediately gazes drawn towards them. Maybe they should’ve dressed more accordingly to the place they’ll be eating at, instead of wearing the same kind of clothes they’d wear on the adventure with the others, but heh, who cares.

At least the waiter that greets them does nothing to make them feel like they don’t belong here.

“Good evening gentlemen, did you have a reservation?” he asks them.

“Indeed we do,” Han replies, still looking quite happy with himself.

“Of course. Follow me.”

 Once they get to their table, they sit down and begin to skim through the menu. Ooooh, so many things Zhao would like to try, but the budget…

“Ah, I forgot to mention this to you, but I would like to pay for both of us today.”

Zhao almost reels back at those words, staring at the man sitting in front of him. “Really?”

Han nods. “Yes, I’ve been meaning to do something like this for a while…”

Again, Zhao wonders what Han’s playing at, being all nice and chivalrous like this. First the flowers - which now indeed sit on the shelf like Zhao had planned - and now this; he must have something in mind, mustn’t he?

Eh, what the hell. After all, it works for him.

“Alright. Sounds good to me.”

 Despite the fact that Han’s paying, Zhao still decides not to go too overboard with his order, because he’s not a fucking asshole.

Han doesn’t say anything about it, but Zhao is able to see a shadow of relief in his eyes, and he can’t help but to chuckle at that.

See, that’s what you get when you try to be romantic.

  Zhao has to admit it: the food here is divine.

The tartare is exquisite, and the lobster is too. He would love to have a chat with the chef responsible for these delicacies, and maybe even exchange recipes, but at the moment this isn’t what he’s thinking about.

They’ve both been quite talkative today, and he means both of them, when usually Zhao’s the one running his mouth while Han nods along. It’s like Han’s putting more effort than usual… but this is too much for Zhao.

 “Why are you doing this?”

Han looks at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Zhao chastises him, then he gestures to all around him. “This. What the hell is this? You think we’re in some kind of romantic comedy where any of this is necessary?”

Han remains silent, prompting Zhao to continue.

“What is it that you’re after, Han-chan? I mean, there’s no need to get into my panties ‘cause you already do that, so what is it?”

Still silence from Han, at least until he abruptly gets up from his seat and begins to walk away.

“Excuse me.”

 Uhm…

“No, wait, Han-chan come back! I didn’t mean--”

Didn’t mean what, exactly, huh? To spit all that shit while Han was just trying to be nice?

It’s always like this with him: people try to get close, only for him to push them away. Old habits die hard, and Zhao has always had to keep himself and others around him in check; he was supposed to be the leader of the Liumang, and you can’t do that if you don’t learn how to shield yourself from potential threats, and sharing a strong bond with someone is the biggest threat of them all.

The problem with Han is that they have gotten incredibly close, so Zhao’s old instincts kick in, but does he want to push him away? Not really. He’s not the leader anymore, he’s nothing, actually. What would the harm be in trying to have something with someone he - even though it’s hard to admit it - cares about?

 Goddamn… he’s ruined everything with his damned own hands, hasn’t he?

No, maybe he can still save it, if only he could manage to get up from this fucking chair.

Where did Han go? Ah, the bathroom. At least he hasn’t left the building, which Zhao supposes is a good sign - or maybe just a not so bad sign.

There’s only one problem: if he follows him, if he manages to get him to hear him out… he’ll have to be honest, and for him there’s nothing scarier than having to be honest about what’s going on inside his head.

Isn’t the same for Han, though? That’s the reason why they get along so well, because they understand that sometimes you just not want to talk about that stuff and that’s fine, and yet he’s going all the way to do all these romantic gestures that have surely cost him a lot of effort, all for his sake.

… Maybe being opening up wouldn’t be so bad now, wouldn’t it?

 He finally manages to get up.

Fuck it. It’s about he and Had have an honest conversation anyway.

  When he gets to the bathroom, he finds Han in front of one of the sinks. He must’ve washed his face because it’s still wet, but he’s doing nothing to dry it, instead he keeps looking in the mirror on the wall, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Han-chan…”

Those words manage to snap Han out of whatever mood he was in, and he turns towards Zhao, looking slightly surprised to see him there. “Uhm, Zhao… You’re here too.”

“No, I’m just a figment of your imagination,” Zhao instinctively replies, before remembering that he’s supposed to be nice this time. He shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean that…”

C’mon, Zhao. Take a nice, deep breath, and fucking talk.

 “Ok, look, Han-chan, I’ve… I’ve been unfair to you. You were doing all these nice things, and I’ve got on the defensive. The truth is that I like you, I like being with you and do crazy shit together and not just that. Even the normal stuff, the domestic shit… I really like that.”

Han looks shocked by what Zhao has just said. Heh, he’s just as shocked, to be quite honest.

“I wasn’t expecting this thing we had to become so important to me. Honestly I thought it would be a nice fling and nothing more, and I bet you thought that too, but we’re both fools and got trapped into our own feelings.”

That earns him a chuckle on Han’s part, and he can’t help but to do the same. Yeah, they are both huge idiots.

“When you started doin’ all this nice stuff I panicked. I knew that sooner or later I’d have to face my feelings, so I began lying to myself, pretending that I didn’t understand why you’d go all the way to do something like this, and for me of all people…”

He scratches his neck. “As you can definitely see, I’m not that good at this kind of stuff…”

“I can see that,” Han replies, a small smile on his face that becomes larger as he goes on. “Such a heartfelt confession deserves a better place than a public bathroom, don’t you think?”

This fucking asshole.

Despite the roasting - which he frankly deserves - Zhao can’t help but to laugh. “See? Just proven my own point.”

“I do appreciate it, though,” Han replies, still smiling, then he turns serious. “I came here to find the right words to say, but it seems that you’ve beaten me to the punch.”

Zhao crosses his arms to his chest, shifting his weight on his other leg. “Well? We’ve got one heartfelt bathroom confession, why not having another?”

Han chuckles, shaking his head. “Sure, why not?”

 “As you correctly guessed, I’m not the sort of guy to whom this kind of things comes easily, but I knew that it would be worth it in the end, but to tell the truth, I was just being a coward.”

Zhao opens his mouth to interject, but Han raises his hand, prompting him to wait for him to explain himself.

“I started doing this because I wanted to tell you how I felt, but was too scared to actually do it, figuring that you’d understand what I meant without me having to actually say the words. I too was afraid of what would happen if I spoke honestly. I didn’t want to feel that exposed…”

“And here we are now,” Zhao can’t help but to say.

Han nods. “And here we are now…”

He hesitates just for a moment before stepping towards Zhao.

“But I can’t hide anymore the fact that I like…” he stops, frowning. “No, not just like. I… I love you.”

Zhao’s first instinct is to ask him why, why would he love someone like him? But at this point they’re both way past that. Sometimes you just love someone without reason, even though admitting it can be very hard. He knows it.

“I… I love you too.”

 He wonders if Han feels as light as he does, having finally admitted it, but he’s not able to ask him because he’s kissing him and, frankly, he doesn’t want to pull away at all, not when Han’s lips taste so sweet.

Unfortunately it doesn’t last as long as both of them would’ve liked, but after all they’ve been missing from their table for who knows how long; someone might get worried and come check on them.

“How about we go back to our meal, and then finish this when we get back?” Zhao proposes.

“Sounds good to me,” Han replies, going to the door and opening it for Zhao. “After you.”

Before, Zhao would’ve gotten irritated at the gesture, but now he just chuckles as he walks out of the bathroom.

“Such a gentleman~”

  The rest of their dinner goes splendidly, now that they’ve both said their pieces.

If they had known that being honest with each other wouldn’t have had disastrous consequences, they might’ve done it earlier, but in the end, they did when they were ready, which is how these things should go, isn’t it?

 It’s still quite a shock that, of all places, they’ve decided to bare their souls inside a restroom, but oh well, so is life.

At least, it’ll make up for a great story to tell, that’s for sure.

[panharmonium]

Hey, do you ship merthur? I have conflicted feelings about it because Merlin does love Arthur but also their relationship is kinda shitty.

short answer: i do not

longer answer: i might not be the right person to ask about this, because i don’t really “ship” anything?  it’s not how i engage with fandom.  (disclaimer: this is not a value judgment of folks who do engage with fandom that way.  just an explanation of how my own brain works.)

extra long answer: under the cut, because i suppose it was only a matter of time before someone asked me about merlin/arthur, and i might as well put my entire response in one place so that next time, i can just link to it.

questions like this are a little tough for me to answer, because i am completely uninterested in romance as a premise.  if it’s not there, i don’t care.  if it is there, i often wish it weren’t, because it’s almost never developed in a way that lives up to my standards.  i don’t always mind if something contains romantic relationships (provided they’re written well), but i don’t want them to be the point of a story.  i honestly cannot think of anything less interesting to me than a story that has as its main plotline “x character falls in love with y character.”  for me, in my brain, it’s like, “okay...that’s it?  do you have anything else to say?”  there is literally nothing about that that i care about.

this can be a little difficult to navigate in fandom, because one of the oft-heard commendations of “fandom” is ‘gosh, fandom is so wonderful, we can watch the same two characters fall in love again and again and again in a million different scenarios!’  which is true, for the people who care about that sort of thing, but that’s not actually ‘fandom.’  that’s shipping.  and there’s nothing wrong with shipping, but shipping and fandom are not the same thing, and they’ve become so conflated that it can be very difficult to engage in the latter without being absolutely swamped by the former.

many times, for me, fandom can feel synonymous with shipping.  there was a post i reblogged recently whose tags described shipping as often feeling like a prerequisite to engaging with fandom, and that is often what it feels like to me, particularly in fandoms where one ship is so ubiquitous that any and all other material is utterly dwarfed by it in scale.  (for me, my last two major fandoms have been merlin and teen wolf, so - i’m sure you see my dilemma, heh.)

all of that said, in terms of arthur and merlin specifically...

disclaimer: everything i say here is relevant to me only.  these are my own feelings.  i am making this post on my own blog, in my own space, in response to a question about my own thoughts.  i do not want, expect, or need anyone else to share these thoughts.  any commentary i make about fandom trends is not equivalent to condemnations of individual people’s opinions or shipping habits.  i do not mind or take issue with folks who ship these two characters.  i am glad you are having fun.  please do not @ me about something you disagree with.  i promise you it is not necessary.

okay.  with that out of the way.  

part of me is reluctant to expound further on this question, because my personal philosophy is that merlin and arthur as a ship have had more than enough time and space devoted to them in this fandom (way more than their share, frankly) and i generally prefer to focus on merlin and the other people in his life, as a deliberate counter to that.  but, since you asked, and because i have been experiencing the “i’m tired of romance” bug more strongly lately, here is the long-form version.

the number one reason why i don’t ship arthur and merlin is what i already outlined above: i don’t really “ship” anything.  i have never looked at two characters who were not already together/on an obvious potential path to being together and said “i want them to fall in love.”  that has just never happened to me.  (again - it’s not a BAD thing to have this happen, it’s just not something that’s ever happened to me.  i can’t relate to the experience.)

therefore, when i do appreciate a romantic relationship, it’s pretty much always because canon has shown me something romantic (or clearly pre-romantic) that i find to be well-written and compelling.  (it’s rare - as i outlined before, i would usually rather not deal with romance at all - but it happens.)  

arthur and merlin, then, never had that effect on me, because arthur and merlin, as depicted in the canon, are not in love.

[to anybody reading this who just snatched up their keyboard and started furiously typing, i beg you - please go back and re-read my disclaimer.]

they’re not in love.  the truth about these two is that if i had watched this show without having grown up in fandom as a culture (and without knowing exactly what kind of ships fandom immediately sees EVERYWHERE) the idea of anybody shipping these two together would never have even entered my mind.

(and like.  because i DID grow up in fandom, and i DO know exactly what kind of ships fandom sees everywhere, i knew before i even started this show that arthur/merlin was going to be an inescapable thing.  but that would not have been the case, if i had watched the series in a world where i didn’t know what fandom was.)

arthur and merlin, in canon, are not in love.  the show never does anything to give me an inkling that either of them are harboring romantic feelings for each other.  that is never what is happening onscreen.  literally the last thing on merlin’s agenda is romantic attachment, ever, and arthur is never, ever shown to be in love with anyone who isn’t gwen.  the show, onscreen, never tricks me, teases me, or leads me on.  i was never under the impression that merlin and arthur were in love with each other, because they weren’t.

but that DOES NOT MEAN their relationship matters less.  just because they aren’t IN love with each other doesn’t mean they don’t love each other, and one of those things is not bigger or better or more powerful than the other.

i struggle a lot in fandom (all fandom, not just merlin) with the persistent idea that romantic attachment is the peak, the natural endpoint on a scale of “how deep is your love?”  i am constantly running up against posts where the commonly accepted structure is to cite a moment of devotion or caring or some instance of basic connection between two characters, and then add a caption or tag saying ‘because they are JUST FRIENDS, right?’ or ‘^^totally platonic interaction between characters who are not at all in love, sure jan.’  

and honestly?  i hate that.  that is one of my least favorite things about fandom.  it makes me so tired.  

i am completely disconnected from this idea that there are like...things you can do that are too caring to count as friendship.  like - that there is too much devotion you can show, and if you go over the limit, then it’s laughable that you would do those things for “just” a friend.  that’s so unpleasant to me.

(and i do think [when it comes to non-canon queer ships, anyway - straight ships unfortunately have no excuse, sorry y’all] that part of this probably has its roots in pushback at the tendency of people who try to “gal pal” actual queer ships (or literal real life relationships), so this, at least, is something i can understand.  i’m queer myself; i get that.  and that is why i will never like - attach myself to someone’s post and start complaining.  people can vent however they want.)

it doesn’t change my own feelings, though.  i hate seeing every meaningful friendship i’ve ever been invested in talked about like it’s just a romance in disguise.

other things: i am uninterested in romance as a motivator.  

truly, from the bottom of my heart, i don’t care.

we are, at least in my corner of the world, oversaturated with romance, to the point where any piece of media that doesn’t include it in some fashion is shockingly bizarre.  it is EVERYWHERE.  it is in EVERYTHING.  i cannot pick up a book without running into a romantic plotline.  i cannot watch a movie or a tv show without being forced into multiple romances that i don’t care about.  (rare exceptions apply, as always, but i’m speaking generally.)

this oversaturation, for me, means that romance as a storyline no longer holds any meaning for me.  i see it EVERYWHERE.  it is in literally EVERYTHING.  making merlin into a “love story,” for me, makes the show so much less interesting, because there are billions of love stories out there.  love stories are practically the only kind of story our media remembers how to tell!  why would i take a story that is so unique in its exploration of deep friendship (that isn’t even quite friendship, because it’s not real, but merlin wants it to be real, but making it real would also destroy it) and loyalty (that isn’t necessarily deserved, but is still offered, but is damaging to the person offering it) and love (that exists in spite of arthur’s position as the oppressor, but still cannot erase merlin’s oppression, and is patently not a magical fix for the very real problems merlin is facing), and then want to water it down to “and then they fell in love”???

merlin bbc has so much to say about the transformative, redemptive power of love (not just romance), and the bonds we form with each other despite the fact that we don’t always deserve each other, and what we can do to make ourselves better, and how do we make amends for the ways in which we hurt the people we care about, and it is so complicated and there is so much beauty there and i adore it specifically because it is one of the rare pieces of media out there that doesn’t prop up romantic love as the most important and powerful force in the universe.  romantic love is not what moves the story.  merlin’s love for the people around him is based on compassion.  it’s bigger than the familiar and overused ‘i am desperately in love with this one individual person and that’s what drives my actions,” which is a premise all of us know has been done to death.  merlin’s love is not about romantic attachment.  it’s a deep, abiding love for humanity.  it’s based on hope, and faith, and the inherent belief that everybody matters, even in their worst moments.

condensing that kind of story into “and then they fell in love” erases its meaning for me.  it makes it trite.  uninteresting.  i have seen “and then they fell in love” fully sixty thousand times.  “and then they fell in love” has been done so often that it is utterly devoid of power for me.  boring.   i literally do not care.

other people might feel differently, and find a romantic love story compelling.  i don’t.  

i’m guessing the message that prompted this essay is asking me to evaluate how i feel about the “goodness” of the merlin/arthur ship, aka whether it’s worthwhile to ship it or not based on how healthy/unhealthy it is, which i definitely can’t answer, because i don’t think whether it’s “good” or not really matters.  i am definitely too old to be riding the newer wave of, uh...idk, purity culture type stuff that is so oft-debated on here, lately.

but you’re absolutely right, anon - merlin and arthur’s relationship IS kinda shitty!  it 100% is.  it doesn’t mean you can’t ship them, though, if you want; otherwise i wouldn’t be invested in any aspect of their friendship, either.  

the fact that merlin and arthur’s relationship is kinda shitty is an essential element of the show; it’s the microcosmic representation of the macrocosmic problem merlin is trying to solve, and even with that being the case, we can see clearly that this also doesn’t preclude them from having real moments of connection and care and love.  this is the contradiction i have to keep in mind whenever i engage with them in the friendship sense - merlin has been wronged by arthur in so many ways, and yet he still loves him and believes arthur can do better, and yet his dedication to arthur really does destroy his life piece by piece, and you really have to walk a line between those extremes and be thinking: in what ways was this a noble, honorable path for merlin to take and in what ways was this damaging, and was it all worth it in the end?

we probably wouldn’t still be watching this show if we didn’t ultimately think the answer to that last question was yes.  but there are also equally valid ways in which the answer is, truthfully, no, and i think really the only important thing when dealing with merlin and arthur’s relationship (in whatever capacity you prefer) is to keep that dissonance in mind.

so, to more directly address your question, when it comes to my interaction with the source material, i don’t ship merlin and arthur romantically because i don’t see romance when they interact in canon, and i don’t think their relationship could be improved or made more interesting/more meaningful by adding extra-canonical romance into the mix.  that’s really it.

but the other side of things is this: even if i were granted someone else’s ship-goggles to somehow see romance between these two (eg, once, in the distant past i read a harry potter fic that was so well-constructed it sold me on a relationship i didn’t [and still don’t] actually see in canon), i still wouldn’t choose to ship merlin and arthur, and it’s not because they’re a “bad” ship (no such thing, folks - tag your stuff and let people live their lives, thank you), it’s because this fandom has already been swallowed by them and i cannot bring myself to make that imbalance worse.

trying to be in the merlin fandom without shipping merlin and arthur is just...a little bit difficult sometimes.  i think probably even people who do ship merlin/arthur are aware of that.  sometimes it can feel like merlin/arthur is a given in this fandom, not one of many options - as if you’re not in the merlin fandom, but rather the merthur fandom, and you know you really, really do not belong there.

and it’s not even a canonical ship!  it’s not even real.  and yet if you like this show, and you want to engage in the fandom, your experience is, without exception, going to be chock full of merlin/arthur content by default.

essentially, my struggle with the merlin/arthur dynamic in fandom is two-fold:

1) the strikingly imbalanced content distribution

the merlin fandom, in terms of content distribution, is a pretty accurate mirror of merlin’s own existence, to be honest, in that pretty much every aspect of it is eventually taken over by arthur pendragon, and in that there’s a reasonable debate to be had about whether or not that’s a good thing.

(spoiler alert: it’s not.)

even so, it is what it is, and as i said before, me commenting on fandom trends is not meant as a condemnation of individual preferences.  people like what they like!  that’s just how things are.  shipping arthur and merlin isn’t a Bad thing to do, by any means, and the fact that so many people do is just, you know, bad luck for me, lol.  but at the same time, the wildly unbalanced distribution of content does make it more difficult for folks who don’t ship merlin/arthur to engage in fandom with quite the same level of ease, and even though it’s nobody’s fault, it is still perfectly reasonable for people who don’t ship merlin/arthur to be frustrated about that.

fanfic is a pretty good case study for how this plays out.  i saw a post a while back that was titled something like ‘merlin bbc gothic,’ and the first bullet point was “canon ships are rarepairs,” and HOO BOY, that is true.  stats-wise, merlin/arthur makes up ⅔ of the merlin fic on AO3.  ~25,000 fics.  the next most popular tag after merlin/arthur is arthur/gwen, but arthur/gwen have ~2,900 fics in their tag.  and when you remember to exclude any instance of merlin/arthur from the arthur/gwen tag, that number drops by another thousand, to ~1,940.

that’s buckwild.  come on.  merlin/arthur has twenty-three THOUSAND more fics than the next most popular (and CANONICAL, i might add) ship?  and every other ship’s numbers are even lower than that?*

and if you don’t want to read shippy stuff in the first place, like me - the merlin “gen” tag has less than 8000 fics in it, by comparison, and then you STILL have to filter merlin/arthur out of the gen fics, leaving you with about 6300 - which number has to be filtered down further to remove OTHER ships that still make it past the gen filter.

in comparison to 25,000.

like.  i’ve been in fandom long enough that i’m not surprised - mean, i came into merlin directly off a teen wolf phase, and boy, that’s a whole other bowl of noodles right there, with added squick factors that are irrelevant here - but i’m still just...man. 

it still makes my head spin.  and it is still frustrating, every time.

*(there is a lot more to be said about how gwen fits into all of this, and i know it has been discussed more thoroughly in other places, but yes, another reason i am leery of arthur/merlin as a thing is that i’m just...not super comfortable with what that implies for gwen and her position in the story.  even if i personally am slightly more compelled by gwen/lancelot, technically - i still don’t quite feel comfortable taking gwen out of her canonical place.  she belongs at the top.  she deserves to be the love interest and she deserves to be the queen.  and like - people can say that her relationship with arthur isn’t “developed” or “convincing” enough to warrant retaining in fic, and i get it, the show really did fail gwen in S5 - but i still don’t buy that argument.  people literally INVENTED a romantic relationship for themselves and put 25,000 fics worth of effort into building it up; there is no reason why an “underdeveloped” canon romance couldn’t have gotten the same treatment.  except, of course, for the fact that one [Black, female] character was being shoved aside to make way for yet another two white dudes.)

(and i’m not saying that everyone is doing this deliberately or maliciously.  but we all know this is a cross-fandom trend.  there is literally no reason for the gap in content to be THAT wide.  a canon relationship with twenty-three thousand fewer fics than an invented ship?  just...that is a stat that bears thinking about.  it doesn’t mean that merlin/arthur is a “bad” ship, or that you can’t prefer lancelot/gwen, but it IS still important to recognize these patterns where they occur, across fandoms, and to really think about what they mean.)

2) the arthur-goggles

my second struggle with merlin/arthur in fandom is the ubiquitousness of the arthur-goggles, aka: the tendency in fandom, as in canon, to make everything in merlin’s life about arthur, and everything in the show about merthur.

this one specifically really gets to me.  i am very committed to the idea that merlin is a complete individual, whether arthur is there or not.  i write a LOT of meta about merlin being a whole person, specifically pushing back on the idea that merlin was “born” for arthur’s benefit - my motto is basically that “merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon,” and the way his life begins to revolve around arthur pendragon in later seasons is not in fact touching or romantic or beautiful; it’s a tragedy.  merlin does not exist only in the context of his relationship with arthur; he possesses worth outside of his mission to save the prince of camelot, and he was already a complete person before he ever met the prince of camelot, and one of the many issues we have to think about when dealing with arthur and merlin in any capacity is how merlin is told from the get-go that he is supposed to devote his whole life to arthur, but arthur is never given any such reciprocal responsibility.  

merlin and arthur’s relationship, just like the distribution of content in this fandom, is wildly imbalanced.  merlin spends all of his spare time thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person.  he is constantly working to keep arthur safe and happy.  but arthur, at the end of a long day, doesn’t spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life.  he just goes home and goes to bed.  he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’  he is never told his life isn’t his own, that he is supposed to be one half of some two-sided coin.  only merlin is told that his entire existence is earmarked for someone else, that his life’s purpose is to be someone else’s better half.  only merlin is expected to devote his entire being to someone else’s betterment.  only merlin is expected to say demeaning, self-abnegating things like “i was born to serve you.”  

arthur, by contrast, is allowed to have a life of his own.  he is allowed to exist on his own terms.  he is never told that his worth is dependent on how well he can prop someone else up.  and while fic might like to imagine merlin being the most important thing in arthur’s life, in canon that is just not the case.  

merlin exists on his own merits, and the idea that he does everything he does just because “he’s in love with arthur” will never sit right with me, because it’s simply not true.  merlin and arthur’s relationship is important to both of them, yes, and of course it is undergirded by deep love and care, but it is also way more complicated than that.  merlin’s investment in arthur’s life - and his grief at arthur’s death - are NOT solely driven by his love for arthur as an individual; they are inextricably bound up with a sense of obligation and duty and self-worth and, eventually, failure, because he’s been told that protecting arthur is a) the only thing that matters about his own life and b) the only way to free his people and save an entire kingdom.  and i think ignoring this very real complexity in favor of “merlin does what he does and feels what he feels because he’s in love with arthur” cheapens the depth of the story and flattens merlin’s character.

arthur-goggles automatically make everything about merlin/arthur, though.  so the difficulty, for me, with merlin/arthur as a ship, is that it can be hard to make/find things about merlin that people don’t instantly, always try to link back to arthur in some way.  merlin is not allowed to have things that are just his, and he can’t exist in a state where arthur doesn’t somehow factor in - no matter how unrelated to arthur something is, or how non-shippy it’s meant to be - there’s someone out there who’s going to loop it back to merthur in some way.

just like - scattered examples of things I’ve encountered:

all of merlin’s non-arthur love interests on AO3 having massive chunks of their ship tags actually being merthur fics, with the non-arthur ship serving solely as a stepping stone on the way to getting merlin and arthur together

readers, on fics that are specifically designated as focusing on merlin+someone else and in which arthur does not appear, leaving comments asking “so how long until arthur shows up,” “can’t wait to see arthur,” etc

meta about how ‘merlin’s time in camelot was actually really bad for him as a person’ being reblogged and modified by someone else with an addition like “but merlin doesn’t regret a second of it because he wouldn’t have known arthur if he were anywhere else,” and the OP having to reblog their own post and explain that this is literally the exact problem they were trying to critique

in fic, merlin’s friends being utilized only as vessels with whom he can have discussions about his developing relationship with arthur

etc etc

it’s not always huge egregious things, but wearing arthur-goggles means EVERYTHING comes back to merthur in some way, which for me is just...really insulting to other characters, and really limiting in terms of story analysis.  

so, for example - this is a VERY specific example that few will relate to, because i am probably the only person on here who has ever tried to search the tag for merlin’s friend will from ealdor (a niche fave of mine) - but with him, especially, it is very hard to avoid bumping into a lot of people wearing arthur-goggles, because everybody seems to imagine him as merlin’s ex, who is only upset about what’s going on in 1.10 because he’s jealous about arthur appearing alongside merlin, never mind that will and merlin have known each other since birth and have a relationship that LITERALLY predates arthur by two decades.

so with him, as an example - the other day, i saw some post in the tag that was like “will gets teary when arthur makes his inspirational speech in ealdor because he finally understands what merlin sees in arthur and he can’t be mad anymore”

and that is just patently untrue.  it is not even remotely close to a legitimate interpretation of what is happening in that scene.  will hasn’t come around to arthur’s way of thinking yet; he literally still packs his things and leaves after this happens, and he is - i mean, first of all, he’s not crying, lol, and he stalks out of that scene weary, angry, and fed up, because he thinks the village is delusional and all of his neighbors are going to get killed in the morning.  his arc - his dissatisfaction with what is going on, his anger at the ignorance arthur wields as a nobleman with all of that wealth and privilege, his resistance to the big “let’s fight kanen’s men with sticks” plan - that is about him and his history and who he is.  it is not about an (imaginary) merlin/arthur love story.  

but when the arthur-goggles are on, all roads lead to merthur.  even when the other characters in question (*coughWILLIAMcough*) would be beyond mortified to have merthur, of all things, assigned as their motivation.

SO.  now that i’ve gone over both the canon and fandom aspects of my reasoning, the succinct summary in response to your question is just that no, i don’t personally ship merlin/arthur.  because:

a) i don’t see it b) the fandom is already trying to drown me with it and i choose to center other characters out of spite c) i just think merlin deserves better lol

however, as i said in my disclaimer - that doesn’t mean other people shouldn’t ship and enjoy it!   merlin/arthur is very much not my cup of tea, but that’s no reason why other folks can’t have fun with it.  i think the best portrayals of it, probably, will be those that keep in mind exactly what you said - that merlin and arthur’s relationship is “kinda shitty” - but this is fandom, so if what folks really want to write is just lots of happy AU’s with no issues, then they should go for it!  the point of fandom is to have fun connecting with people over a shared love of something, so i am happy to let others have fun doing their thing, and i will just be over here doing mine. 🙂

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (10)

Chapter 10: Unread Pages of an Open Book | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​ @berenilion​ @stellar-trinity​ @queen-destenie​ @sweeetteaa​ @calgasm​ @justtinfoley​ @peterwandaparker​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @calsponchoemporium ​ @cal-jestis ​ @superwarsofthrones ​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 | Previous: Part 9 | Next: Part 11 | Masterlist

10 of ?

Jidné checks her homing beacon, the blue light’s brightness weakened and the beating slowed down, signaling the Mantis’s departure from Ombari. She’s climbed up to the mesas of the badlands, situating herself at a vantage point, a silhouette of a ship flying away from the planet caught the corner of her eye.

“May the Force be with you,” she uttered, supposedly for Cal, but the humid wind carried her words into its nothingness.

Cal surely made true to his promise. In a newfound sense of adrenaline and determination, he skimmed through the temple in Ilum, easily cutting through the enemies lurking there until he could find a second kyber crystal for the waterproofing modification. Despite his child-like excitement, he kept in mind to be patient for the call of the kyber.

“Beee, chirp trill!” BD-1 initiated as Cal had found his way into another part of the cave that he’d not been in last time.

“Jidné? What do I think of her?”

The little droid perched on the boy’s shoulder sang a string of whistles and beeps, conveying his own thoughts on the girl—Cal roughly translated it to somewhere along the lines of “I really like her! Kind of her to help us out!”

“Yeah, buddy, I like her too,” the redheaded Jedi concurred, as he punched a wall of ice with his climbing claws.

By the time Cal had arrived to Ombari, it was already afternoon and the sun blazed its strongest at that hour—compared to the morning blizzard that welcomed him back in Ilum. Jidné was alerted of his arrival when the homing beacon returned to its usual constant state—the light grew bright and the rhythmic beeping became livelier again.

“Cal,” Jidné uttered while staring at the blue glowing circle sitting on the palm of her hand.

Meanwhile, back in the Mantis, Cere—as well as the rest of the crew—had been noticing Cal’s new eagerness of things. In a Jedi’s perspective, she wasn’t surprised to learn that Cal wanted to have his saber modified into a waterproof design, though it intrigued her on where he was getting such ideas. The better question being: who gave him these ideas?

Cere watched the boy frisk his entire person to see if he still had his handy tools on him, Cal barely paid attention or responded to anything the older woman has to say—not out of rudeness, but simply out of haste.

“Cal, a word, please?”

That request seemed to have paused Cal from checking himself for the third time in a row.

“Something up?”

“It looks like Ombari has a lot to offer you,”

Cal scoffed, slightly puzzled, “Heh. Erm… I guess? I mean, it’s a quaint town—nice locals, good food, Greez might like the marketplace for a change.”

Cere gave up with the subtexts and went straight to her point.

“You seem like you found someone interesting,” she implied.

“Yeah, I suppose I did,”

The woman bobbed her head to the side, prompting Cal to elaborate on his new acquaintance. Cal told Cere—along with Greez and Merrin—about Jidné. He introduced her to them verbally as a fellow Jedi, he narrated their first meeting in the jungle when he helped her out with the pack of Bashiji cats, followed by the hot pursuit of the bounty hunters—he added her Force ability as well, which piqued Cere’s interest in the same fashion as Cordova would—and their skirmish with another pair of Haxion Brood bounty hunters earlier this morning.

When asked on who her mentor was, Cal couldn’t answer. Instead, he reasoned that he hasn’t exactly brought up that topic yet as it might make Jidné uncomfortable.

“Well, you’ll get to meet her soon… I hope,”

However, Cere’s next query would pause him from what he’s doing and stop him in his tracks.

“Do you trust her?”

There was a split second’s worth of silence from Cal’s end. His eyes shifted from Cere to the floor, panning the interior of the Mantis for the right words.

“Of course, I do,”

“Off to meet her, I see?”

“Yeah, she promised to help me modify this,” he waved his saber hilt in his hand as he headed out.

Cere watched the redheaded boy leave the ship and disappear into the forest. Merrin approached and stood by the woman’s side, watching the now-empty view of the forest where they’re landed in.

“Do you think that girl can sense his… fondness of her?”

The former Jedi chuckled with her arms crossed, “If there’s one thing Cal is bad at: it’s hiding his emotions and being so… direct. Alright, now make that two things.”

“I strongly agree,” the Nightsister parroted Cere’s posture, now both ladies watch the silhouette of the smitten boy shrink into the distance.

Cal made his way to the badlands, even if he and Jidné didn’t exactly agree where they’d meet once he comes back, he simply followed his instincts—which were strongly sure that she’d be around there. He pulled up the hood of his beige poncho, protecting himself as he trekked under the blaze of high noon.

The boy and his droid stood underneath a withering tree whose branches were thick enough to cast a shadow to shield them from the heat. BD-1 gave Cal a lead by scanning a sampling of the plant Jidné traded to the vendor.

“Chirp, trill. Bee!”

“Puffreeds,” Cal translates. “This is what Jidné had in her hands earlier.”

Following the river had brought him to the other side of the lake—away from the island where he and Jidné fought off the Haxion Brood hunters—and searched for puffreeds.

From Cal’s back, Jidné appears out of nowhere. She quietly comes into Cal’s vicinity and watched him survey the area as if searching for someone. She cleared her throat to get his attention and he spun around a bit too strongly that he lost his left foot’s balance when he faced Jidné, the little blunder drew out a giggle from the girl.

“Hello there,” she greeted casually.

“I figured I’d find you here,” Cal straightened himself up and tugged the hem of his shirt that crumpled underneath his armor in front of the girl.

“Did you now?” cooed an amused Jidné.

“Of course,” he cleared his throat. “I got the kyber crystal. I didn’t wanna make you wait.”

“I’ve told you that I don’t mind waiting. But,” she sighed, then flopped her arms to her sides. “I kept my promise: I waited.”

A smile curled along Cal’s lips, he fished out the new kyber crystal from his pocket as he approached Jidné; he cupped her hands and let her cradle the kyber in the palm of her hand. It fits perfectly at the center of her palm, she slightly angled her hand to let it roll up and down.

“Just the perfect size. You ready to fix this in?” she beamed as she continued to study the clear, flawless crystal.

“I was hoping that you don’t mind if we do it in our ship,” Cal gazed at her fondly, almost as if he’s pleading her to come with this time.

Jidné found the allure of Cal’s eyes, only to realize that he was standing a little bit too close; she bit her lip, her genuine smile was quickly replaced with an anxious one as she contemplated on her response.

“Sure, why not?”

Why did I say that!? She scolded herself in her mind.

“Great! Come on!”

Cal snatched her hand, she had returned the tiny crystal to him before letting him drag her towards the direction of the Mantis. They jogged across the badlands, they kept running even though they’re both out of breath. With her free hand, Jidné concealed her homing beacon into the back of her belt—the beeping pace become more rapid, she hoped that it wasn’t loud enough to reach Cal’s earshot.

The silver fin that she first spotted only through her binoculars grew in size as they got closer. The trees that blocked her view once now revealed it before her behind their wide trunks. The exit ramp unfurled when its motion sensors picked up Cal’s presence and he invited her into the ship. Cal found the three gathered around the dining table.

“Jidné, this is everyone—Cere, Merrin, and Greez! Everyone, this is Jidné,”

During his introduction, the three of them moved away from the table and gravitated towards the girl—who shyly raised her hand and weakly waved at them.

Her voice was almost a whisper, “Hi.”

Greez pointed at the girl, “What’s that? That’s a probe droid behind her! You brought an Imp?!”

Jidné—and ID-3—were startled by the Lateron’s exclamation that she didn’t act fast enough to explain.

“That is ID-3, he’s reprogrammed and he’s with her,” Cal explained.

“Ugh!” Greez clutched his chest with his two right hands. “For a second there, I thought you blatantly brought the enemy to us!”

“Don’t worry, I trained ID-3 not to alert the Imperials until I say so,” Jidné joked. “Don’t you, ID-3?”

The hovering droid beeped, playing along with his owner, of course. When the girl and her droid saw the Lateron’s next reaction, she quickly followed up that she was kidding—reassuring the gray creature that ID-3 is completely out of Imperial commission, thus sparing him from a cardiac arrest.

Cere’s eyes examined the girl from head to toe, she smirked in a teasing manner as she rolled her eyes to the side��to Cal.

“So, you must be the girl that Cal keeps talking about,” the older woman blurted.

Jidné turned her head to Cal for confirmation, his beaming grin subsequently reduced into just a display of his clenched teeth. His initial reaction warranted a single, small chuckle from Jidné, not even Merrin covering her mouth with her hand spared her from releasing a nasal chuckle.

“Right, well, if you’ll excuse us: we have some modifications to do,” Cal stood behind Jidné, clasped his hands over her shoulders, and then shepherded her into the engine room until Cere stopped them in their tracks.

“What modifications?”

“Waterproofing a lightsaber,” Jidné directly answered on both of their behalf.

Cere’s smile melted as well, that sentence was enough a stimuli to bring memories of her prime into mind.

The mood went from jolly to somber. The three of them were reminded of that day; however, Cere was particularly interested with the girl’s knowledge of the lightsaber modification.

“W-Where…? How did you—?”

“My master,” Jidné politely cuts in her reply. “She taught me how. Though, I know she learned it from another Jedi—at least, through his Holocron.”

“Master Fisto,” the woman uttered out of memory’s impulse, her head hung low and scanned the floor. Shortly after, she faced the girl again. “Who was your master?”

Jidné took a deep breath, it’s been a while since she uttered her late master’s name. She puffed out her chest, it was her way of honoring her master, even at the mere mention of her name.

“Her name is Nomara Anesh,” her expression stiffened at the sight of Cere gasping as a reaction. “Do you know her?”

“Yes,” Cere breathed. “She was a Seeker, too. Like me.”

A silence loomed around the ship that only the hum of the air through the ventilation shafts spoke.

“I’m sorry,” there was a heaviness in Cere’s delivery of that very small phrase, though those words carried a great burden for everyone who’s experienced what they have experienced.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. None of us kind of knew what was coming,” Jidné somberly replied.

“Then perhaps that was our fault,”

“Perhaps…”

Cal spared Jidné from further gloom, he kept his hands on her shoulders and gently escorted her into the engine room until he’s shown her the workbench.

“Jidné, are you alright?”

She sniffled, “Yeah, I’m okay. They seem nice.”

“They like you alright,”

The two youngsters traded glances and awkward chuckles, which seemed to be a constant in their interactions—as well as the bashful smiles that they miserably fail to hide from one another just by looking the other way. Jidné began her instruction; she went out of her way to open the hilt of her saber until Cal is shown of the cross-section to see what goes where.

“Now since you got a dual saber, we’re gonna have to halve the crystal,”

“So that’s why you said it was the perfect size,”

Using the Force, Cal carefully meditates on the crystal until it neatly split into half; afterwards, Jidné coached him on the rearrangement of the parts to give way for the second crystal to make the modification work. To lighten up the mood, Cal bantered with Jidné as they worked, bringing up topics and questions initially revolving around the modification; the Jedi girl switched between replies, her own questions, and actual instructions.

“Did you go with the other kids who were about to have their Gathering?”

She shakes her head, “Not really. My master and I flew to Ilum, but I went through the caves by myself. Did you knew about this back then?”

“I’ve heard from the masters, I even asked my master if I could modify mine,”

“Did he allow you?”

“Yeah, he once promised me that…”

Jidné paused from tinkering, hinting at Cal who trailed off in his words and watched his expression soften, apparently reminiscing that exact scenario in his head.

“He promised that once we were done with a campaign we’re in, he’d help me with my saber,” he scoffed, Jidné sensed contempt or perhaps regret. “It never happened.”

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay, Jidné,”

“Good to know,” she blinked and focused her attention back to his opened lightsaber. “Um… see that space below the energy channels? That’s where we’re gonna put the secondary crystal’s chamber.”

Cal grunted, “The copper wires bounce off even if I press them.”

“Here,” Jidné pressed down the ends of the wires with her fingernails. She managed to crack a joke. “Don’t try to shock my fingers with your soldering gun now!”

The boy chuckled, and then winked.

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

All of a sudden, the trauma and the memories seem lighter to talk about—like a badly needed heart-to-heart with someone who truly understands.

It took them less than a few hours to finish. Never have they ever been this close with each other—physically speaking. Their fingers brushed together when one helped the other with a certain part, their foreheads literally touched whenever Jidné would point at a tiny portion of the saber and Cal had to lean closer. Keeping their eyes on the saber distracted one from catching a glimpse of the other.

When Cal ignited his saber for testing, it was nothing special, the true quality check lies literally in the waters. Jidné had her arms crossed while leaning against the bannister of the engine hatch as she watched Cal study his saber even though the changes were internal, she nodded her head sideways, pointing at the door.

“Shall we mosey on over to test it?”

“Let’s,”

Jidné excused herself and headed out first, as she got out of Cal’s room, she took a breather and massaged her cheeks, she felt the warmth on her face and simply brushed it off as the heat that the engine radiated. From the dining table, she wandered to the lounge after the galley, it was a scene of leftover leisure: the hallikset rested on the middle corner of the sofa and a small potted plant sat on the center of the table. But something more interesting than a guitar and a plant caught the corner of her pretty eye…

A small pile of green, crystalline shards scattered on the floor, sitting at the foot of the table.

Jidné’s head panned discreetly but briskly around the ship, she knelt down and picked up the biggest shard she could find. She brought it closer to her face for examination, the texture was familiar but she only had a foundationless assumption.

Her shoulders jumped when she heard Cal call her name and his footsteps approach. She tucked the shard into her jacket’s inner pocket before he could appear out of his bedroom.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, and you?” Jidné shifted back to her calm demeanor.

“Come on then,”

Jidné felt her lungs constrict while she followed Cal in the lead. They were so indulged with fixing up his saber that they didn’t realize they’d reached dusk. The girl was immensely fascinated at how the painted sky gleamed in front of the setting sun; she kept her head up as they hiked through the forest, staring at the colored clouds as they go along.

“Jidné, over here,” Cal beckoned.

Both of them found a water hole that ended the line of the stream, the pair knelt by the bank and Cal unclipped his saber from his belt.

“Go on,”

Cal hesitated to dip the hilt into the water. He coaxed himself with deep breaths and pivoted his elbow so the emitter faces downwards. The saber in his hand sank into the water until his forearm was submerged. His thumb pressed the switch and the blade hissed out; bubbles foamed and rose to the surface when the rod of light flashed underwater—both youngsters had their jaws dropped open, initially startled at the bubbles, and then they retained their stiff postures until it occurred to them that it worked. Their eyes met and exhaled laughs blew out of their rounded mouths.

The boy hoisted his saber—blade still ignited—out of the water; he gave it a slow, gentle swing and it was functioning as it normally would. Their modification was a success!

“It worked…” Jidné uttered.

“It worked!!” Cal parroted, only louder and more celebratory in tone.

A bottle full of laughter was released from their bellies, but Cal’s was louder.

“We did it!!” the boy exclaimed in a child-like radiance, taking her hands into his and giving it a tight squeeze.

He had his eyes stuck to hers, looking into the earthy brown irises where the sunset’s light reflected. He absentmindedly smiled, her small hands still caged within his gentle grasp. When Cal snapped back to reality, he pulled his hands away from hers slowly and cleared his throat—once again failing to recompose himself after acting like a child in front of Jidné, as a matter of fact, she was endeared whenever he does that.

“I seriously could not thank you enough,”

“It’s nothing, Cal, really,”

A pause. Cal took the time to study Jidné’s features better; he could feel himself closing in, but not of his own volition, it seemed like his body was controlling him instead of the other way around. Only an inch stood between his lips and Jidné’s, the girl could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop. The deed was hindered by a hand on Cal’s chest.

Jidné bit her lip and spoke in a hush, “I should go. It’s getting late.”

She could feel Cal’s chest pull away from her fingertips.

“Right…” he murmured. The distance between them grew.

“So, I’ll see you around—like always?”

She flashed a coy smile, “You always seem to have a way of finding me.”

“Or you finding me,”

Jidné chuckled as she stood up, dusting the soil and grass that stuck to her clothes.

“Good night, Cal.”

“Good night, Jidné.”

What was I thinking!? Jidné screamed in her mind as she sprinted through the badlands on the way back to the Scarab.

You are such an idiot, Jidné Sheedra!! IDIOT!!

Even if she scolded herself as harshly as the biting cold that blanketed the desert in the evening, she found herself in wheezing giggles—confusing her lungs between catching air to breathe or to laugh—her speed fluctuated as she brought her hand to her lips and regained speed when she put it back down.

“Yeah, I’m a fucking hell of an idiot!!” she screamed gleefully in the expanse of the empty desert.

The animals, the plants, and the nocturnal birds circling the evening sky bear witness to Jidné’s proclamation.

[rorykillmore]

okay this is. well. a LATE birthday fic for my friend jemi, who does not have a personal tumblr atm, but i’m sticking it here because this is where i file all my fics at this point, and because it’s also a tiny bit of a partial co-present for @xivuuarath too! 

jemi, one of the things i’ve loved most about this past year is getting the chance to write with you again and develop these new and wonderful and crazy cross-fandom dynamics just the way we used to. it’ll always mean a lot to me to be able to write with you, and i really hope i’ve done everyone in this fic justice because i cannot tell you what a DELIGHT forming this disaster of a group dynamic/eventual found family with you and storm has been!!! i can’t wait to develop them more together, but for now, this particular fic is set a little ways in the hypothetical future once they’ve all gotten to know each other a little more, and after villanelle has had... SOME kind of similar encounter with her family to the one she just had in canon. tldr: her mom sucks, she’s dead now, and villanelle ran off after burning her house down.

anyway, yeah, ENJOY!

They all look like idiots, and normally, Villanelle would delete any photo that made her look like an idiot without a second thought. But there is something kind of nice about it this time.

Villanelle supposes that maybe it’s a little unfair to blame Konstantin for the fact that her birth family turned out to be shit.

(Okay, not all of them were shit, but it is easier to pretend that they were and not that the few days she spent with them were the happiest she’s ever been in her whole life.)

Anyway, while it’s not technically his fault, he is the one who told her they were alive, and the last thing she wants right now is to go back and tell him exactly how catastrophically things did not work out.  He is no longer her handler anyway. She has to report back to Knock Out.

(Actually, she has not been on a mission recently, she has nothing to report, and Knock Out would probably not even notice if she didn’t contact him for several more days, but... Villanelle will just make up a reason to talk to him, then. He doesn’t have to know she’s wasting his time just because he makes her feel a little better.)

So she’s surprised when she texts him (or his comm frequency, however it works with Cybertronians) and gets a message back that he’s already waiting for her at Mistoffelees’.

That’s how Villanelle thinks of the house, absurdly, as belonging to Mistoffelees and Victoria -- namely because by know she knows them much better than she knows their people. Somehow, amidst the chaos of the past several days, Villanelle had entirely forgotten she’d agreed to cat-sit again (less for any pragmatic reason this time and more because she hadn’t had anything better to do, before the issue of her family had cropped up) starting this evening. She’d also forgotten that they’d all planned another marathon session of Kitchen Nightmares, and for some reason... all of this rattles her.

For some reason, when she arrives and walks up the driveway and finds Knock Out parked waiting for her, and Misto and Tugger settled side by side on the fence, she gets a strange little lump in her throat that she can’t explain.

“Finally,” Tugger complains the minute he sees her. “If any of us actually had thumbs, we may well have considered starting without you.”

“Excuse me,” Knock Out is quick to protest. “Just because it’s not exactly strategic for me to transform in the middle of a human neighborhood doesn’t mean you get to lump me in with you furballs.”

Mistoffelees rolls his eyes in an unnervingly human gesture that Villanelle is only just starting to get used to.  “I’m sure he meant ‘if any of us actually had thumbs that we could conveniently use without causing hysteria in this precise moment.’ Didn’t you, Tug?”

“Sure, darling,” Tugger says, not sounding very sincere at all.

Villanelle comes to a slow halt beside Knock Out’s alt mode, trying to bask in their familiar banter, trying to make it feel just the same as her family’s home-y sense of chaos did. It doesn’t quite work. But it does make her want... something.

“We should take a road trip!” Villanelle announces suddenly, entirely out of nowhere and without thinking about it.  Mistoffelees and Tugger turn nonplussed looks on her, and she can practically feel Knock Out figuratively side-eyeing her, and for a second she worries that they’ve noticed something’s wrong. 

But the silence only lasts for a beat before Knock Out scoffs,  “What, now? And where, exactly, were you thinking of going?”

Villanelle shrugs, undeterred by their skepticism.  “Anywhere. We could just... drive.”

“In that?” Tugger stares wide-eyed into Knock Out’s windows, and then very quickly clears his throat.  “Sorry. In him?”

“We could bring Victoria too,” Villanelle says, appealing to Misto. “Is she home?”

Mistoffelees flicks an ear uncertainly.  “She’s out at the junkyard this evening. And anyway, Villanelle, we can’t exactly up and disappear without giving the others cause for alarm --”

“So go tell them! We can wait here.  It would only be for, like, a couple of days, and your humans will not even notice since they’re not due back ‘til next week.”

“Not to agree with Tugger, but I’m still stuck at the part where I have to lug them around and get cat fur all over my interior,” Knock Out quips, rather casually considering the chaos unfolding around him. “...Not to mention, we don’t exactly have clearance for this.”

“We don’t have an assignment either,” Villanelle points out. “Do they really care what we do in our own time?”

Knock Out seems too surprised to answer, maybe because this is the first time outside their missions and their little casual reality television get-togethers that Villanelle has ever expressed such an interest in spending time together.

The cats are almost as baffled. Tugger and Misto exchange a look that Villanelle can’t quite read, before Mistoffelees settles his attention back on her.  “This is all a bit... sudden,” he starts, and it’s the fact that he sounds almost gentle that makes something in Villanelle prickle up again. Is her behavior so erratic and concerning that she’s making them feel sorry for her?

“Fine,” she cuts in, changing tracks suddenly.  “Fine! Never mind. I will take one on my own. See you all in a couple of days --”

“Er, hold on.” Knock Out recovers enough to stop her. “If you’re going to do this anyway, I might as well tag along and see that you don’t do anything careless. Otherwise I’ll have nothing to do but drive around London while you go off and have all the fun.”

Villanelle stops in her tracks.  “Do you want me to be careful, or do you want me to have fun?”

“...Is that supposed to be a trick question?”

She shrugs, still recovering her pride and wondering if she should brush him off just on principle because of it. Deep down, though, Villanelle doesn’t want to, and so instead she looks back at the cats where they’re still settled together on the fence.

On the fence. Heh. Like a metaphor.

“I think you two could use the vacation,” she tells them casually.  “Have you ever actually been on a honeymoon?”

“A what?” Mistoffelees asks as Tugger sweeps his feathery tail around him. Villanelle has started to get used to the easy affection they share between them, but it hasn’t yet ceased to give her a pang of something indecipherable each time.

“A honeymoon,” she says.  “It is something two people do when they get m -- when they love each other and want to be together forever. They go off and take a trip and kind of... celebrate their relationship.”

Tugger tilts his head ever so slightly to one side.  “And is it customary for them to bring their friends along?”

Villanelle glances at Knock Out, but if he knows anything about this particular Earth custom, he stays silent for once.  So she shrugs.  “Sure. That way it is like a party, you know?”

“I daresay neither of us do.”  Mistoffelees turns so he can meet his mate’s gaze.  Villanelle expect Tugger to have a very decisive opinion on all of this, and to state it very loudly, because that’s just how Tugger is.  So it surprises her when instead, he returns Mistoffelee’s look quietly - almost gently - and waits for his verdict.

“Is it really only going to be for a couple of days?” Mistoffelees asks cautiously at length.  Villanelle grins despite herself.

--

It is roughly a five hour drive between London and Paris, which is a bit of a pain in the ass when the taking the train shaves about half of that off, but for once Villanelle is trying to be objective about how she is probably the least inconvenienced person in this situation. The only reason Misto and Tugger aren’t stuffed in the trunk right now is because she offered to buy them cat carriers to travel in instead, and when the cats vetoed that option, she’d reluctantly promised Knock Out that she’d be the one vacuuming his back seat instead.

Even with that compromise made, though, five hours is a long time to spend in a car with someone. Especially a sentient car. They’ve already gone through the motions of arguing about the radio - a pointless endeavor, given that Knock Out is the one who controls it - and then Villanelle had tried to teach them how to play a couple of road trip games ( “Fuck, Marry, Kill” had gone the most disastrously).

Finally, Mistoffelees asks, “Was it really necessary to come so far for this... other city you described? I don’t see how it can be all that much different from London.”

He sounds almost uncomfortable, and for the first time Villanelle wonders whether he or Tugger have ever been this far from home before -- they are cats, even if they are special ones.

“Paris is nothing like London,” Villanelle insists, though she knows that alone might not mean much to him.  “-- It is the most beautiful city in the world. And if you’re in love, you have to go at least once.”

“I never figured you for the sentimental type,” Knock Out quips dryly.

"Maybe she means if you’re in love with yourself,” Misto offers.  “I suppose that describes at least three out of four of us, so --”

He breaks off at Tugger’s feigned indignant gasp and even-more-feigned swat, laughing, and Villanelle gives both of them a pointed look through the rearview mirror.

They are just made for Paris, these two. Later, they’re going to have to admit that she was right.

Knock Out sighs audibly, distracting her from her thoughts.  “You know. You really do owe me for this.”

--

Even Knock Out can’t find too much to complain about once they reach the city proper, though. Villanelle beams smugly when he admits that there’s a certain classiness about it all “as far as cities on this mudball go”, and he rolls his windows down a little so that Misto and Tugger can better appreciate the scents and sounds.

“It’s not home,” Tugger drawls, enjoying the way the wind buffets the mane of fur around his neck.  “But it’s not half bad.”

It’s home to Villanelle, though, or -- the closest thing she’s ever had to one, besides the one she just burnt to ashes. She takes them past the street where her old apartment used to be, just for nostalgia’s sake.

“The only thing about Paris is, it’s really more of a walking city,”  Villanelle tells them at length.  “Hey Knock Out -- you don’t have some kind of boat mode, do you?”

“A boat?” Knock Out echoes scathingly.  “What exactly do you take me for?”

“Okay, so, the river tour is out. But I can show you around even better from here. Just follow my lead.”

Mistoffelees leans languidly against Tugger as they share the open window, and sighs.  “What could possibly go wrong.”

To Villanelle’s credit, she does give a hell of a tour, taking them past the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe. Then they make a stop at the Pont Neuf bridge, where Villanelle positions the very bemused cats on the railing so that she can take their picture against the backdrop of the Seine.

“I can’t say I really understand the purpose of this,” Misto says for about the third time, then flattens his ears when Villanelle shushes him.

“I told you! It is easier to show you than tell you -- here, look.” She approaches to show them the image on her phone, ignoring the peculiar looks she gets from one or two passersby.  Tugger is the first to lean forward with skeptical curiosity, and then --

“-- It’s us.” His eyes go wide, and Villanelle watches his reaction with a smug sort of delight.  “Oh, that actually is marvelous.”

“I knew you would enjoy any excuse to look at yourself,” Villanelle quips in return, though in truth, it is a very nice picture if she does say so herself. Misto and Tugger look especially handsome in the photo -- you know, for cats. The sun brings streaks of vivid color out in Tugger’s fur, while Misto’s black and white pelt looks particularly glossy. They sit side by side, their sides touching, and Villanelle had captured just the right moment to preserve the glance they’d exchanged as she took the picture: Misto looking up at Tugger in "can-you-believe-what’s-happening” exasperation, and Tugger returning his gaze with something that read between amusement and the inevitable fondness he always seemed to regard the other cat with.

It’s very... them, Villanelle decides.

“It’s...” Mistoffelees seems almost uncharacteristically at a loss for words.  “...It’s like you froze a moment in time.”

Villanelle shrugs agreeably.  “Humans kind of collect them. I can get this printed, and then you can have your own physical copy, if... that is something you want?” She isn’t sure whether cats have any particular use for photos, but Tugger and Mistoffelees seem to like the idea.

“Seems a shame to waste such a handsome keepsake,” Tugger says, his eyes glinting. Misto smiles - in that very un-catlike way the Jellicles have - and looks up at Villanelle directly.

“Thank you.”

She tilts her head and almost responds, but then can’t think of anything good or clever to say. So instead, she turns to where Knock Out is still parked, the impatience practically simmering off him.

“Knock Out! Let me get one of you.”

“I don’t do autographs, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Don’t be so boring, God. Actually, we can all get in it! I will get someone to take it for us.”

It is probably only Villanelle’s perfect French that saves her from looking like a completely batshit tourist as she herds the cats over to him and needles one very confused local into taking a picture of the four of them together. Instead, she just looks like... well, a batshit French person obsessed with taking photos of herself, her two cats, and her sports car. Which is fine with her, really.

The photo turns out nice, too. Not quite as romantic as the first -- actually, it looks pretty silly. Tugger, taking advantage of Knock Out’s inability to protest while in public company, had leaped up onto his hood and sprawled out like some kind of feline model, which had made Villanelle throw her head back and cackle while in the midst of trying to scoop a begrudging Mistoffelees up into her arms. 

They all look like idiots, and normally, Villanelle would delete any photo that made her look like an idiot without a second thought. But there is something kind of nice about it this time. 

She takes them to the Luxembourg Gardens, too, where an artist asks if she can paint Mistoffelees (leaving Villanelle, Tugger, and Knock Out all quite individually offended evidently not to be considered the prettiest of the group), and then to the fish market where she figures the cats will be in heaven (shockingly, Tugger decides that Parisian food isn’t beneath him, though Misto is partial to the vanilla ice cream Villanelle buys him later).

By then, it’s getting close to nightfall, and Villanelle checks the time and then the listing on her phone. “Okay. Just one more stop. You will all like this one, I promise.”

“I think we’ve all learned by now not to trust your promises,” Mistoffelees retorts, but it’s goodnatured, a mild protest by his standards. Tugger even joins in making fun of his grumbling this time, and Knock Out has spent the last twenty minutes idly looking into things near the city he might want to do “for reconnaissance purposes” the next day, so Villanelle suspects that - not so secretly - they are all enjoying themselves.

--

The last stop is at a little park just beyond the city, where an overlook affords them a view of the Parisian lights in all their glory.  Misto and Tugger stop to enjoy it together for a little while, while Villanelle urges Knock Out to continue on up the road a little ways to find parking at...

“A drive-in theater.” Knock Out realizes, surprise lacing his tone.

Villanelle slips out the passengers side door to stretch her legs, but also to inform him:  “Drive-in is a loose term. I rented out the entire space for us tonight. I figured if we had a bit of privacy, you wouldn’t have to be stuck as a car all night.”

“I --”  Knock Out starts, then seems to register what she actually said.  Villanelle waits through the pause patiently.  “...I happen to be gorgeous in vehicle mode. As anyone with optics could tell you.”

“Yes,” Villanelle agrees, because she’s already learned how to butter him up, “But you make an even prettier robot.”

Knock Out tilts his mirror at her. His version of a side-eye, and code for I know exactly what you’re doing but I’m still flattered. “Well. I suppose this was... shockingly thoughtful of you.”  He transforms once Villanelle takes another step back, and then crouches down to eye her suspiciously. “Uncharacteristically, one might even say.”

But Villanelle has no real ulterior motives, this time.  She is just happy they all came with her to her favorite city in the world for no other reason than because she asked. Instead of saying that aloud, though, she redirects her attention to the overlook, where Tugger and Misto’s silhouettes are visible.  “Do you think they are enjoying their honeymoon?”

“How would I know?” Knock Out flippantly tilts his head to consider the pair. Misto tucks himself against Tugger’s side, and Tugger wraps his tail around the tom’s smaller frame as if they’ve done this thousands of times before. They look so... still. So content, in a way Villanelle isn’t used to imagining them. “I’m not an expert on the mushy stuff.”

“Really? You don’t have anyone?”

“I...” That actually gets Knock Out to hesitate, his expression unreadable. “...Think it’s inappropriate to divulge that kind of information between agent and handler.”

Villanelle nods ruefully. Konstantin had always been smart enough to avoid talking about his personal life with her, too. “I have someone,” she announces quietly, the status of the actual having be damned. “I might tell you about her someday. But --”  And before Knock Out can react to that, she shifts her attention back to the cats again. “I think they really love each other.”

“That seems like a safe assumption,” Knock Out quips dryly.  “Why do you even care?”

Why does she care? Envy? Her usual fascination with other people’s emotions, the ones that are always just out of reach for her? Neither of those feel right, but Villanelle doesn’t know the name for what is.

It just... feels better, knowing that Mistoffelees and Tugger have each other. It makes something in her calm strangely when she thinks of them.

She just shrugs again, in the end. And then the cats are getting up and coming back around to meet them, and Villanelle shoos away whatever she was feeling or pondering feeling and gives them an elegant smirk.  “Finally decided to join us, lovebirds?”

Tugger smirks right back up at her. “Personally, I would have been quite happy to spend the rest of my night watching the city lights, but Mistoffelees here seemed to feel that would have been terribly discourteous of us both.”

“It is your honeymoon,” Villanelle points out, because despite her teasing she wouldn’t really have minded. Her and Knock Out have a movie they could have entertained themselves with, after all.

“Yes,” Misto agrees lightly. “And I don’t think it’ll be one we’ll ever forget. Especially if you’ve chosen a decent... movie for us.”

“Please, Mistoffelees,” Villanelle mimics Tugger using his full name, because she enjoys the way it rolls off her tongue and she knows her accent makes it sound a little funny. “Surely you trust my taste by now.”

“Not unconditionally.” 

“It’s French,” Villanelle promises them as she goes to turn on the screen.  “-Ish. And romantic. You will watch it, and be grateful that your lives are not anywhere near as terrible as this couple’s are!”

“Moulin Rouge?” Knock Out asks in confusion as the title screen pops up.  “I’m not sure I understand the need for dramatics. It all ends happily enough, doesn’t it?”

Villanelle stares back at him wordlessly, one eyebrow raised.

“...It... I may have caught Starscream watching it once. And I’m positive they get back together safely at the end.”

“Do not spoil it for the cats!” Villanelle tries not to sound too gleeful at this newly collected potential blackmail on the Decepticon second-in-command. She sits down in the grass by Knock Out’s feet, and Tugger settles in beside her with Misto at his side, and Villanelle spends a moment reflecting that it would be really fun to teach them some of these songs.

She wonders if cats can technically sing?

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Fifty-Eight: Surprises ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, pregnancy ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

He’s always done his best to be careful. Sasuke has never been a fan of surprises. Everything in its proper order, proper place, with proper planning and thus his ability to know how to react.

...but Life doesn’t always work that way. Life, as full of patterns as it can be, is still ultimately chaos.

Working on a rather lengthy assignment for his engineering class, dark eyes flicker up as his computer makes an all too familiar sound of receiving a message.

Hey, you busy?

A corner of his lips quirk as his girlfriend pokes in to check on him. His pencil is abandoned, keyboard taken up as he replies, Just typical homework. Need something?

No, just kinda lonely. My class for today got cancelled and I’m all caught up with coursework. But I won’t bug you if you’re busy <3

A brow perks. ...you can come over it you want. At least that way you wouldn’t be alone. It’s just engineering - I can chat and work at the same time.

A minute passes with no reply. But before he can add something else, she offers, ...oh...okay.

...okay, something is up. What’s wrong?

Nothing!

Nothing my ass. I know your disappointed texting tone by now. Just be frank with me, Hinata. What’s up?

Another minute of silence. I just, um...wanted to spend some time with you.

...meaning? By now he has an idea of what she’s getting at, but he wants to make her admit it. He’s never above flustering her, after all. She was such a timid, prude little thing when they met.

She sends a pouting emote. :T Sasukeee…

Don’t ‘Sasukeee’ me. Communicate with me, babe. Tell me what you want.

...I...want to fool around a bit…

There we go. The truth comes out. Smirking at his screen, he replies, ...I think I can take a break enough for that. You just get yourself over here and we’ll figure the rest out.

Okay…! Um...should I bring anything…?

Nah, I’ve got it covered. All I need is you.

Signing off to begin crossing from her dorm to his, Hinata’s status goes offline, and Sasuke decides to call it quits a little early. Tidy as he is, there’s a bit to be picked up in his (thankfully solo) dorm room. Gotta have everything just right, after all. Once clothes are picked up, trash binned, and bed made, he lounges at his desk until a soft knock sounds.

“Come on in.”

Hinata peers around a bit sheepishly, stepping in and closing the door. “Hey…”

“Hey gorgeous.”

“Sasuke…”

“What? Just being honest.”

“You’re r-ridiculous.”

“And yet you love me anyway,” he retorts lowly, grinning as she crosses the room.

“Somehow, yes,” she replies, smiling warmly at him. Knowing his chair isn’t exactly built for two people, she instead grips the arms, leaning over him coyly. “So...ready to take a study break…?”

“For you, any time.” Hands lift to cup at her cheeks, pulling her down to mesh their lips. Hinata breathes a soft sigh, smelling like lilac as she always does. If she ever changes body wash, he’ll be glaringly disappointed. Kissing her slowly until she’s out of breath, he then abandons his seat and stands, grip moving to her waist. The feeling of her hands on his chest - even atop his shirt - makes the skin beneath them warm. “I think your classes need to get cancelled more often,” he murmurs against her mouth, shifting to pay attention to the curve of her jaw.

“I w-wouldn’t mind it,” she agrees, tilting her head for his access. “But I can’t take you away from your homework all the time, can I…? You can’t start failing your classes over a girl, silly.”

“I’m used to crunch time. It’d be worth it…”

Giggling, Hinata lets him push her over atop his mattress, eyes warm with affection as he crawls over. “Then I guess I won’t feel bad.”

“Oh no...you’re going to feel anything but bad…” he rumbles, smirking as her cheeks flush pink.

Once all is said and done, the pair of them tired and satisfied, Sasuke hauls himself up and tidies again, leaving Hinata to sleep as he cracks away at more of his assignment. It’s not due until midnight - he’s got plenty of time. And now he’s got a freshly-bolstered mood on top of it all.

No sweat.

...well, some sweat. But not at all homework related.

From there, life goes on as normal. Classes, homework, visits home...and across campus to invade one another’s dorm rooms. They’re both in their last years, and while the pressure is indeed ramping up, they try to take things one day at a time.

But just as graduation looms...something changes. Texts go unanswered, calls go straight to voicemail...and no matter the hour of the day, Hinata isn’t online.

While Sasuke at first puts it down to crunch time...after a few days, he starts to seriously worry. His messages get a little more desperate, asking her to please reply. But still nothing. A visit to her dorm find it empty...either that, or she’s refusing to answer.

What the hell is going on?

Finally fed up one day, he lurks outside her door for hours, waiting for her to either come in or go out. Other students give him odd looks as they pass, but he ignores them. Something is wrong, and he needs to know what.

“S...Sasuke…?”

Head snapping up, his eyes go wide as Hinata stares at him from the end of the hall. Immediately, he frowns. Her body language is all sorts of closed off. If anything...she looks ready to bolt. “...Hinata? Shit Hinata, where have you been? Have you been getting my messages?”

“...I -?”

“I’ve been worried sick! I thought something happened to you!” Abandoning his leaned perch against the wall, he jogs to meet her, slowing and gripping her upper arms firmly. “...are you okay?”

At the question, her eyes suddenly tear up, shoulders shaking against withheld sobs.

Okay, red flag, what the hell?

“...here, let’s - let’s get inside your dorm and talk, okay? Everything’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.” Putting an arm around her, he gently leads her to the proper door, which she unlocks and then locks behind them. “Hinata, babe...what’s wrong? Please, talk to me.”

Arms hugging herself tightly, she seems to struggle against her emotions. “I...I-I went home. I, um...I wasn’t feeling well. So...I went to see a doctor - a l-lady that I know.”

“...are you all right?”

“I...y-yeah? I mean...technically, yeah, I’m...I’m fine. But Sasuke, I…” Her breath hitches, and a moment passes as she pauses. “...I-I’m really scared…!”

“What do you mean? Why would you be scared?”

Lip trembling, she stares at him as though weighing her words. “...Sasuke, I’m...I’m pregnant.”

His face immediately slackens in surprise. She...but...they’ve always...? “...you’re sure?”

She gives a shaky nod. “...I took t-three at home tests, and then...a clinic test. I’m sure.”

He...isn’t sure what to say. “...w...what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know…!”

“Okay, okay! We’ve...we’ve got time to figure this out. Uh…” A hand rubs at his chin, brain too stuck in its initial panic to really think. “...well...whatever you decide, that’s your decision, Hinata. Not mine. This is your, uh...deal.”

Her gaze averts. “...I-I mean...I’ve always wanted kids, just...I wasn’t really p-planning on it...now.”

“...well, it doesn’t have to be now.”

“...I know. B-but…” She bites her lip. “...in a perfect world, I...I’d like to keep them.”

He gives a slow nod. “...all right. How do we want to make this work?”

At that, Hinata pauses, seemingly taken aback. “Y...you mean you…?”

“What, you think I’m going to run on you now?” he asks. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“N-no! I...I just...this isn’t exactly the b-best time, and…” Hinata trails off, not sure how to voice her thoughts. “...I thought maybe...maybe it would be...too much.”

Sasuke sighs. “...I mean yeah, it’s...definitely a surprise. But Hinata...look. I…” It’s his turn to fumble. “...I love you. We’ve been together pretty much our entire college careers. And I wasn’t planning on that going away once we graduate. Maybe it’s not how we planned it, but I mean…” He gestures to her. “...I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you. A bump in the road isn’t going to scare me that easily. I’ve already got work lined up. You’ll have a bit of a late start, but...we can make this work. If that’s what you want.”

“...is it...what you want?”

“...yeah,” he agrees after a pause. “...I love you, Hinata Hyūga. And if things kept working out, then...yeah, I wanted things to progress between us. Kids, marriage, the whole thing. Just because it’s a little soon doesn’t mean I’m against it. Things will be tougher, but...I can do tough.”

Expression crumbling, Hinata crosses to him, arms curled against his chest as she sobs in his arms. “Oh my g-god, I was so worried…”

“...is that why you went AWOL?”

“...I’m sorry...I was just so scared...I-I had to have time to think, and...f-figure out how to talk to you about it.”

“It’s okay...I mean I was worried as hell, but I understand. Just...know you never have to be scared to talk to me, okay? About anything.”

“...I know…”

Sighing, he tucks his chin atop the crown of her head. Well...so much for having a five year plan. But he will make this work.

He’s not the sort to back away from a challenge, after all.

                                                          .oOo.

     SORRY GUYS I know this isn't more of the soulmate AU, but...I couldn't quite figure out how to make this prompt work for it, I'm sorry ;w; I hope this is still enjoyable - a friendo helped me with a plot, and...here we are, lol! I know the tags kinda gave it away, but...I don't want someone stumbling across something they wouldn't want to read, eh heh~      I know some might be disappointed there wasn't more, uh.../nitty gritty/, but I want this series to be able to be read by pretty much everybody in the SH fandom, including those under 18, so...we kinda skipped over that part. I MIGHT do more mature stuff in the future, but...sometimes I'm not the best at it /)///(\ It's a bit of a long reason why, but nsfw stuff isn't always within my ability, I hope you understand!      ANYWAY! I've never really done the whole 'whoops' plot before (well...kinda, but not this ship and not this way). I'm not sure it's very...IC for either of them, since I see Hinata as rather prudish and Sasuke as a bit too careful, but I mean...it's not TOO out there, right? But I think if things DID go awry, they'd handle it...about like this, lol      Anywho...it's VERY late cuz I was working on another project this evening, so I'm gonna head to bed~ Thanks for reading!

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

Excuse me but what is secretshipping?

No worries at all! c: Secretshipping is the name I gave to my oc otp, the relationship between Dove and Srentha! I took the style of naming a ship “[element of the relationship]-shipping” after the Yugioh fandom, wherein every relationship has their own unique name. For Dove and Srentha, secrets were a huge part of their lives, and later their relationship as well. Most important are the moments when the secrets they kept from each other come out, secrets they’ve only shared with each other, because the trust they have together is a rarity in their lives. Hence, naming them “secretshipping”!

They have a tag on this blog (just tagged as “secretshipping”)....

https://beyondthetemples-ooc.tumblr.com/tagged/secretshipping

...as well as a long-winded writing collection over on Srentha’s blog:

https://highpriest-in-training.tumblr.com/tagged/secretshipping

It’s a pretty long story (currently standing at a few hundred pages!), but I’ll try to summarize. If you’re at all interested, here’s their story!

I’ve posted bits and pieces online. Srentha’s bio contains a lot of information: https://highpriest-in-training.tumblr.com/bio

Heart to Heart, a scene that gloriously captured how important they are to each other: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7498147/1/Heart-to-Heart

Fire and Flight, a bit of backstory and the details of their first reconnection: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10842732/1/Fire-and-Flight-The-Key-to-Igniting-a-Pacifist-Heart

And now, the WHOLE story....

As children: Dove was completely hidden from absolutely everyone by her mother due to a terrible secret about her father (fearing that their society would hate Dove merely for existing, her mother wanted to spare her that hatred). Srentha was a mystical prodigy who spent most of his life learning and studying, socializing mostly with other (adult) mystics. One day, while Srentha’s grandfather visited Dove’s mother, Srentha crept away and discovered Dove hiding, after a moment of curiosity and anxiety they began to talk, and when Dove told him nobody was supposed to know she was there, he played along, and kept the secret, initially thinking it was a game. Dove didn’t want her mother to worry that someone had discovered her, and Srentha wanted to feel included in this “game”, but they also wanted to keep in contact, somehow. Employing midnight outings as well as messenger doves, they could only rarely meet, but cherished each other’s friendship.

A genocidal tragedy separated them around age 14, and Dove fled their home to escape. Srentha tried to follow her, but wound up transported somewhere entirely different. When Srentha returned to find their home destroyed, he spent six or seven years trying to track Dove down, traveling whenever he had the strength and never giving up the search.

As he tells her later on: “I got over losing Azarath. But I didn’t get over losing you.”

But, as you may have guessed, one day he finally, finally FINALLY really DOES manage to track her down! And he is absolutely ELATED! Dove can’t believe he’s really HERE; she thought he’d died with everyone else! But as anyone who has been separated for so many formative years can tell you, six years of growing up is a long time to be gone. They soon find out that they’re not quite the same people they were as children. Dove is far calmer, but also a lot quieter and more withdrawn. Srentha’s once-unshakable confidence was rocked to the core by the sudden shift his life had taken. And at first they don’t know how to handle this change.

But their bond withstands all the revelations, and they find that, once they get used to them, they don’t mind the changes.

Eventually Srentha asks enough questions that Dove tells that dark terrible secret that has been looming over her all her life, desperately afraid that he, of all people, might reject her... but after a span of shock and contemplation, he reassures her, promising that he could never hate her for it. Later, Srentha reveals his secret insecurity, a rather raw and vulnerable place in his heart, revealing that even with all his magical power, the people around him believed in his magic, but they never believed in HIM. All he ever wanted was to be someone important, to do something that leaves a mark on the world, but all the leaders in his life ever saw was an upstart dreamer. Dove shows him her acceptance more slowly, but she supports him steadily enough that he finally starts to believe in his own dreams again. Even in their darkest moments, they find that they’re still sticking together, supportive and secure, moving forward to better days together.

They also endure so many struggles together, mystical and mundane. The biggest conflict arises when Srentha starts making romantic gestures, and Dove is terrified to realize she might be falling in love with him! A part of Dove will always be terrified of what happens when she experiences strong emotions, because her power can become very dangerous. Especially so with her telepathy; her mind is extremely powerful, and her power tends to forge connections to those she loves. Luckily her strongest connection had always been with her equally strong sister who could fend off any accidental telepathic blows... but other minds aren’t as resilient. Not to mention: Dove doesn’t know what to DO about love. It’s new, it’s strong, and it’s terrifying to her. 

Embarrassed and afraid, Dove withdraws to try processing this new sensation. Which utterly confuses Srentha, and he coaxes her to talk about it, sharing his feelings with joy and excitement. But Dove responds with cold denial-- and that’s all it is really, denial, because she doesn’t know what else to do. Her defense mechanism has always been denial when she doesn’t know what else to do. 

But Srentha isn’t one to be so easily dissuaded. Gently but persistently, he took steps to show her that it was OKAY to be in love. He talked her through her worries and fears, he made plans and ran experiments with her to figure out just how safe it was, just in case, and his dedication alone showed her that maybe, being so deep in love wouldn’t drown her after all.

Even after they resolve that, every step of their relationship brings its own struggles. Marriage is a big commitment. Intimacy terrifies Dove and confuses Srentha. Dove’s pregnancy gets pretty awful for awhile, but their daughter pulls through, just like her parents are known to do. And of course, parenting struggles, while raising a metaphysical daughter on Earth has its own unique challenges.

But the wonder of their relationship for me, personally, is in the way they push through such struggles TOGETHER. Dove is a very timid creature; Srentha always handles her very gently, but never sacrifices an ounce of love. Dove is very prone to fear when something goes wrong; Srentha’s optimism and positivity are a light in times of darkness. Dove is also very hopeful and sympathetic; when Srentha struggles with frustrations or projects, her calm quiet makes a great sounding board so he can talk through the problems. She’s quick to ask questions, or even make suggestions, that lend him a new angle. Srentha is always quick to offer a word of encouragement, Dove is quick to take an interest in things nobody else seems to care about.

They both fulfill needs in the other that nobody had ever done so WELL before! And they both take delight in helping the other solve their problems and move through their difficulties together, while learning to respect boundaries and always trying to feel out the other’s needs. They balance each other.

I could just go on and on and ON about these two, but I think that covers the basics. c: Feel free to ask if you have any more questions on them! As you can tell, I’m glad to talk about these two. Quite a lot, heh.