The thing is with Merlin,
It’s OBJECTIVELY NOT A GOOD SHOW.
The cgi and plot holes (plot in GENERAL) speak for themselves. The ending itself is HORRID. Yet there are so many people who love this show. Why?
Well, it’s a little funny feeling that you gain once you’ve watched it, where you will get random sudden urges to consume as MUCH MERLIN CONTENT AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN.
Usually they last like 2-3 days for me and I always end up so giddy and flushed after. Maybe this is actually a problem?
edit: guys 😭 ik it’s the characters…. I made a silly stupid post abt how I thought it was funny that I suddenly get increases of my Merlin obsession🥹🥹
632 notes
·
View notes
4 with Vash!
ah yes, kicking things off with the gunslinging babygirl. i tried to combine trimax vash and '23 vash since he's got multiple iterations (which is bound to happen with nightow's characters) but i think it skewed towards '23 vash oops. not beta read because i'm tired of looking at it. thank you for sending this in and enjoy!!
#4: Surprise kiss (f/o kiss prompts)
quick cw for mentions of blood & spoilers for trimax if you squint. they relate mostly to vash's biology as an alien species, nothing plot relevant.
wc: 1.04k
Something is wrong with Vash.
Eli can tell when he insisted on checking into separate rooms at the hostel. He’s dodgy and vague when they ask why he wants separate rooms too. So after an hour or so from when they settled in for the night, they walk over to his room and softly knock on his door. “Vash?”
No response. Maybe he's asleep? No, he didn't look that tired when they arrived. His species needs less sleep than humans do, and he had taken a nap earlier in the day. “Vash? Are you okay?”
This time, he responds, but instead of any speech, he whimpers. Their stomach sinks. Shit. Is he hurt? Did someone break into the room? A thousand different scenarios whirl around in their head as they turn the door handle. It’s locked. “Fuck,” they grumble under their breath, then pat their pockets. There has to be a lockpick in there somewhere. After a second or two of digging, they find a bobby pin. Better than nothing. Even with fully steady hands, it takes a moment to pick the lock. Years of grime and sand cause the pin to catch in the lock a few times. Eventually, the lock gives way with a soft click. “I’m coming in, you’d better have your bits covered.”
When they open the door, what greets them is…very different from their fears.
A quivering heap of wings rests on the bed where Vash should be. Thousands of feathers are scattered on the bed and the ground, stained red with blood; the bedsheets are bloody as well. The wings shift just a little to reveal Vash’s flushed and distraught face. His eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep…or crying- they can’t tell which one, or even if it's both reasons. He makes a small strangled noise of embarrassment and hides his face again.
“Hey. Um…what’s…what’s happening here?” They vaguely gesture at his form collapsed on the bed.
Vash’s reply comes out muffled beneath the wings. “I think I’m molting.”
A beat of silence follows, one that Eli takes to process what Vash just said. “Plants molt?” they finally ask.
“Of course we do,” he manages through labored breath as he sits upright and scoots to the edge of the bed. He finally stretches his wings out, and they note that he has two pairs instead of one. “ ‘S normal to get rid of the old feathers so the new ones can grow in.”
“Oh, I see.” Eli steps past the feathers scattered on the ground and sits on the bed next to Vash, examining his wings. From their observation, a large handful of feathers need tending. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” They run back to their room to grab their first aid kit, and return with the kit and a pair of scissors.
When they return, Vash is still sitting on the bed, picking at the feathers on his lower wings. He eyes them warily as they sit down beside him. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you take the damaged feathers out?”
Vash tenses up and jerks away from them, hitting his pillow with a soft thump. “No! It hurts, and you really don’t have to-”
“Look, the kids called me the Thomas freak at the orphanage for a reason. They molt every spring too.” While they explain this, Eli shows Vash the scissors, so he sees they’re not dangerous. “If you really don’t want help, I won’t do this. But know that I know what I’m doing and it won’t hurt you, okay?”
“...Okay." Vash’s shoulders, which were almost up to his ears, relax a bit. His arms rest at his sides, and he turns so they have access to his back. "Just...please be gentle."
“I will, don’t worry.”
Vash flinches again when they touch his wings, possibly expecting them to start cutting right away. Instead, they carefully pick through his feathers for the ones to tend. Vash’s back is an angry red from the irritation, and it likely itches too; his skin is hot to the touch when they place a hand on it and he shivers. “Oh, honey…you really agitated your skin.” It’s not a surprise, but it hurts to look at. “I have some painkillers if you need them later.” After that offer, they pick up the scissors and start cutting his feathers.
The two sit in silence while Eli works. One feather falls in their lap, then ten, then twenty. Before long, they've finished cutting the damaged feathers from his wings. “There, done."
Vash turns around so quickly that he almost smacks them with his wings. “A-already!?”
“Yeah. Gotta give them time to heal.” Eli scoops up the feathers they cut from his wings and hands them to him. "Look at these…that's a lot of damage. Considering it's you, though, not much of a surprise."
Vash doesn’t reply verbally, but his face tells them all they need to know. He looks like a puppy caught chewing on their owner’s shoe. While he’s looking at the feathers, they brush the other loose feathers off of the bedsheets and get up to put their first aid kit on the nightstand by his bed. “Wait-” He grabs their hand before they can step away from the nightstand. “Can you stay with me for a bit? Please?”
“Sure.” They don’t have any pressing matters or clients for the evening so Eli carries the chair in Vash’s room over to his bedside and settles into it. In the midst of that, Vash lays down on the bed again, this time on his side. “Oh, if you’re gonna lay down, lay on your stomach. Your wings, remember?”
“Oh, right.” He rolls onto his stomach, stretching his wings out a little in the process and turning his face to the side so he can see them. He reaches for their hand again and gives the back of it a gentle kiss. “Thanks for the help, mayfly.”
The unexpected kiss causes their face to flush. Oh. “Anytime, jitterbug.” Even in his most vulnerable and pained moments, Vash could be so loving it made their heart ache. They’d help him through a hundred molting periods just to see him happy. They’d do anything to see him happy.
11 notes
·
View notes