A Bunch Of Tsus And Izukus Hello Hi

Headcanon that when Merlin started working for Arthur, he didn’t know what over half the names of things were—not only the parts of armor, but also just things around the castle and noble/city life—so he’d just make up names for them. When Arthur would ask for something, he’d have to describe what it was he wanted if Merlin didn’t recognize what the thing was by name, and then Merlin would go “oh, you mean the (weird name he came up with)!” and go get it. It always frustrates and annoys Arthur, and he tries to correct Merlin every time. Merlin eventually does learn the names of most of the stuff but still calls everything by the names he came up with because he knows how it annoys Arthur. Arthur still tries to correct him sometimes, but after a few years has accepted that Merlin’s not gonna stop and is doing it on purpose. Arthur will sometimes ask for something and Merlin will “correct” him with “you mean the (wacky name he came up with for it)” and Arthur rolls his eyes throwing something at him or cuffing him over the head as Merlin ducks away with a grin to get what he asked for. Eventually it gets to the point that Arthur adopts Merlin’s names for things without really realizing it. It just saves time. It gets to the point that Arthur will be talking to his knights or some noble or royal and he’ll end up using Merlin weird name for something. No one will know what he’s talking about and ask him to repeat himself. He does and they still look at him confused. He goes to explain what he’s talking about because he’s used to doing so with Merlin, and halfway through his explanation he realizes he called it Merlin’s stupid name and clears his throat and calls it by it’s proper name, a slight blush on his cheeks. No one calls him out on it or says anything to his face because he the prince and then the king, but Arthur stil complains to Merlin about what happened and “this is all your fault!!” while Merlin is grinning and laughing until Arthur has enough and throws something at him.

I just really want these two to have a language together. We get them having “prat,” “dollophead,” “cabbagehead,” etc. but I want it to extend to random objects too. Arthur adopts Merlin’s insults in canon and throws them back at Merlin occasionally, so I wanna see them do it with other stuff also. I think it’s be so funny and cute. Showing that Merlin really has a big impact on Arthur even down to the vocabulary he uses—changed irrevocably forever after. No longer the arrogant prince but the king Merlin made him, using vocabulary from the people rather than just the nobles and royals, setting him apart from his predecessors.

No wonder bkg can't stand his ass

laughing through the pain

"You have to become comfortable with the fact that most people who enjoy your fic will never bother to kudos or comment on it."

Shockingly, I am comfortable with this fact. Lack of kudos or comments doesn't bother me.

That doesn't mean it shouldn't change.

If you enjoy a fic, leave a kudos or a comment.

Honestly, it is funny to call a ship you don't like "sibling coded".

Oh, but not because "the shippers like the ship because they're like siblings" (keep in mind there are shippers who aren't into incest, so no, BakuDeku shippers aren't into BakuDeku because of that).

It's funny because you literally decide to take the route of showing how you think instead of saying "I just don't like that ship".

Like, think about it.

So you're telling me that these two characters, Midoriya and Bakugou, who have even a manga cover together that is reminiscent to the Spider-man holding Gwen-Stacy cover, Gwen-Stacy who is a LOVE INTEREST, and decide to say proudly with your chest "um, they're actually sibling coded".

You're telling me that the anime literally adds a scene of Bakugou kabedon-ing Midoriya (typically a gesture used for a romantic scene) and think they're like "siblings"?

Like, there's many instances! And none of them gives "siblings".

Even if you don't see them romantic, no one is forcing you two, you could easily admit they have a deep relationship that they don't have with anybody else. Friends could have deep relationships like that, too.

But siblings?

No... just no.

Let's be honest, haters only like to throw that out because they want the shippers to look "gross" because they hate the ship that much.

And here's my question: if you hate BakuDeku and see them as siblings and therefore condone the shippers for that, then where is that energy for the ships that are actually incestuous? Do you hate those ships just as much as you hate BakuDeku, maybe even more as those characters are blood-related?

Oh, you're just jumping on the BakuDeku Hate bandwagon because the ship being popular is an easy target for you?

I'm just saying that the arguments people being having to hate on BakuDeku be making no sense to me because they don't apply those same arguments to other ships.

"Why can't you see them as friends?" One, who said no one shouldn't or don't? Two, if you don't like the idea of them not being seen as friends... does that apply to every ship then? Or just them?

"Bakugou was mean to Midoriya". You shouldn't be shipping Bakugou with anybody then because last time I checked Bakugou was a jerk to everyone in their class and then some.

"Midoriya is straight!" When was this established and if you truly feel this way, why are you only throwing this out against BakuDeku? Because I only seen people say that when it's BakuDeku but hush mouth about other queer Midoriya ships.

Maybe it's just me, but people truly be putting in a lot of energy into this ship they supposedly hate.

I have ships I hate but I don't argue with people about those ships. Like, I don't talk about those ships unless someone brings up that ship to me.

the feathered hat solidifies it for them 💔💔

Had the idea that when visiting nobles meet Merlin for the first time they assume Merlin is the court jester. They hear this little peasent boy call the Prince/King "a useless clotpole with a waist bigger than his brain" and when no one does anything for the treason they just assume he's their buffoon.

I don’t know if i hallucinated this but i swear earlier seasons Bradley said something about hoping Arthur realises Merlin has magic on his own.

And i wish, i wish, that had been the case.

That Arthur, knocked out, bleeding, injured, awakes too early and sees Merlin, eyes golden and angry, bending the power of the earth in raw wrath and fury towards their enemy.

And Arthur is bloody fucking terrified. But Merlin screams ‘not him, never him, never Arthur’ and the earth shakes and… Arthur can’t even remember what poor soul or creature had thrown him from his horse, certainly not now their body is torn apart by Merlin’s words and his flaming gaze.

Of course Arthur is terrified. Is he hallucinating? Is this some malevolent vision? His head throbs and he can taste blood in his mouth and he can see Merlin, Merlin his incompetent and clumsy and funny and innocent and soft and gentle manservant who wakes Arthur with a brilliant smile and some drivel about lazy daisies, stood like a deep and dark and threatening shadow over what was left of a once-body.

Arthur’s breath comes in short gasps and tears prick his eyes. Panic. And Merlin turns to him as he clamps his eyes shut against the image of Merlin dripping with death and anger. But deep within his shattering mind a small voice whispers to him. The voice is soft and gentle, blonde curls and kind eyes and patient hands cupping his cheek. She reminds him of each time Merlin has looked at him with pure, unadulterated devotion - his eyes deep and blue, a tiny ring of gold-green swirling around his pupils. How each time Arthur’s lain on the brink of death, and Merlin has never left his side, tending to his wounds with such tenderness that Arthur has never felt before. How it was in Arthur’s name that Merlin’s magic, Merlin’s magic, raged.

Another voice, thick and real and worried, breaks through the soft whisper of Ygraine.

Arthur felt shaking hands - how could they be so gentle when moments before it was from them that such unbridled power was released - stroke his matted and sweat-soaked hair, wiping the blood Arthur felt trickle down his cheek away. Arthur forces open his eyes, meeting Merlin’s as the gold fades to the deep familiar ocean-blue.

Did Merlin know Arthur had seen? How much blood had soaked Merlin’s hands when Arthur had lain unconscious, how many victories has Merlin won in Arthur’s name?

And deep within Arthur’s heart he knows he is safe in this sorcerer’s hands. Knows in fact he’d choose these hands over anyone else’s.

But Arthur can’t say the words just yet. He can’t admit to himself that the man he loves is made from that which he hates. Hated. Has been taught to hate. A new wound has been torn in him, one not made of blood and flesh. Because if Merlin is magic, how can magic be evil.

So Arthur lets Merlin’s hands and Merlin’s words and Merlin’s soft smiles wash over him. He feigns ignorance of what he saw.

But he watches. His wounds sit quietly: clean and placid from Merlin’s assiduous care. His face is washed from blood and grime by Merlin, who had fussed and worried as he went. Now he watches. He notices the damp wood Merlin had collected whilst the rain has fallen burst into eager flames within seconds of Merlin’s attentive hands and wonders how he never noticed before.

When they return to Camelot, limping but alive, Arthur notices the stone-deep warmth that graces his chambers. Where his room should be chilled and still from his absence instead there’s a soft and humble feeling of life suffused throughout, and Arthur realises with a small, private smile it is the same feeling that radiates from Merlin.

The lessening part of him argues he should recoil. For why is he rejoicing at feeling the touch of a sorcerer all around him. But Arthur argues back. He’s felt the saccharin, sticky grip of dark, evil magic masquerading as sweet ladies or sycophantic servants. He remembered the groggy, aching return to his own mind after Sofia had dragged him under her spell. Merlin’s gentle, joyous presence is worlds away. His magic may be hidden from Arthur, but Merlin’s grinning insults and blatant disregard for any sort of protocol meant any fears for further hidden motive besides self preservation withered immediately.

Arthur keeps watching. He notices now the shine his armour has, beyond what weary hands and cloth could ever achieve. He notices, or rather feels, when Percival’s muscled arm brings down the practice sword and Arthur - his mind worlds away - notices too late, yet the ensuing bruise is not angry and mottled but timid and quickly fades, even though ordinary chainmail would never have warded off such a blow. He notices Merlin’s unbridled joy when the two of them leave Camelot for the forest. He notices the bird that lands on Merlin’s shoulder, the whispered smiles Merlin exchanges with the creature. He notices the grass grow a little taller beneath Merlin’s feet, the way the trees bend to him as if they’re greeting a long lost friend.

Slowly, magic - or at least Merlin’s magic - loses the rotten, sharp edge Uther had imposed. Arthur begins to yearn to see the flames of the fire burning in his room reflected once more in Merlin’s eye. Still he can’t quite bring the words lingering in his throat up to his lips. Guilt begins to fester. Arthur remembers the years of Uther’s reign, how the screams of burning sorcerers - some of them so young, so young - had echoed through the cold stones of Camelot. He remembers now Merlin’s pale face and wide eyes, ghosted with tears Arthur knew not what for. He knows now.

And so when his knights bring him talk of a druid camp away to the south, Arthur stands tall, facing the court, and tells them to leave it be. That there will be no more raids (not that he had issued any since his ascension to the throne, but no formal proclamation had thus far been made). He tells himself privately he will end the ban on magic. He will forge a Camelot where Merlin will not live in fear, in a half life. The faces staring back are curious, some wary. But the one meeting Arthur’s steady gaze, wide-eyed with a shocked, gentle, proud, smile and slightly trembling hands gripping the wind jug, is that which Arthur cares about. He gives a slight nod. Too subtle for anyone else to notice, but as obvious and clear to Merlin as it ever could be, the two of them long since having needed words to communicate.

Merlin has a lot of questions. Naturally. They tumble from him as Arthur undresses behind the screen. And Arthur knows now that he’s ready. Merlin has magic. Merlin is magic. And Merlin is good. Deeply good. The words don’t quiver and cower in his throat.

And I wish Arthur had then told him. Had taken a deep breath and met Merlin’s gaze and told him he knew. That he had been scared. But he had trusted. Trusts. Loves.

We deserved Merlin fighting beside Arthur, raw devotion and power and fierce, fierce love.

Imagine you’re a scary bad person and you have this big plot to kill the king only to be stopped by this little guy

Since I know that this is important for some of you to know, I hereby pledge:

I will never use AI for writing fanfic. The creative process of brainstorming, writing, rereading and refining is why I do it at all. That's the fun part. Everything else is like balm on your wounded fingertips after you've written and stared at the same words for over 5 hours.

It would feel like selling my soul if I'd use AI. I'd sell the joy itself. What pray tell would I get in return? More balm? For what? I didn't even touch the pen.

I think about them