#i have a document of prompt lists ive taken from tumblr

[wrencatte]

mini-fic 6(ish!) post-Fallen Order. Mantis Crew. Cal & Merrin. Omniscient POV (Mostly Merrin). 1.1k words Cal...has a beard??? ao3 mini fic link - chapter 6 (ponchos)

Cal plops down on the couch with a loud, drawn-out satisfied sound, relishing in the first comfortable seat in literal days. Merrin looks up from her holonovel, blinks once, twice, and bluntly asks, “What is wrong with your face?”

He slaps a hand to his chin. “There’s nothing wrong with my face.”

“No, there is,” she insists, abandoning her novel to grab hold of his wrist and wrench his hand away – or at least she tries to wrench it away, but Cal resists valiantly, muscles straining with the effort. He leans as far back from the Nightsister as possible until he yelps, and they both go tumbling off the couch to land in a groaning heap on the floor.

Cere watches them, eyebrows raised, and lifting not a single finger to assist either one of them. BD chirrups from his spot over the Master’s shoulder, something distinctly mocking in his tone even without knowing binary, and Cal groans again, louder and more obnoxiously.

“Thanks, buddy, knew I could count on you,” he snarks. The droid whistles something else that just makes him laugh.

“What did he say?” Merrin asks even as she resorts to prying Cal’s hand off his face, fingers digging under his palm. He tries to smack her hand away with his free one, but she just grabs it and pins it awkwardly to the side out of the way. She pauses, head tilted in contemplation, then drops her entire body weight on the Jedi. He lets out a wheezing oof! at the suddenness, eyes wide. BD laughs at him. “This would be easier if you just gave in.”

“Doubt it,” he grunts.

They grapple – no, actually, tussle is really a better word to describe it. Neither of them are actually trying at all. Cal’s stuck arching his face away from Merrin since he can use his hand, and Merrin could easily hurt him in this position, so her efforts are half-hearted at best. Both of them are laughing like children, little hushed, breathless giggles. Cere doesn’t hide her smile, thoroughly enjoying the sight of them acting so care-free, and secretly recording the whole thing. Even though they have BD for that, there’s something about having a version all to herself that she can’t resist.

Cal finally gives up and removes his hand. Merrin makes a noise of triumphant – that gets cut off when he (gently) smacks his hand against Merrin’s face instead, effectively blinding her. He uses the surprise attack as leverage to shove her back against the base of the couch and he scrambles to his feet, putting distance between the two of them quickly, and…goes back to covering his chin.

“It is not that embarrassing,” Merrin tells him.

Cal scowls. “You said there was something wrong with my face!”

She makes a conceding expression. “Fair, but I did not mean it in that way. It merely…caught me by surprise.”

Cal had been gone for the last few days, exploring a nearby mountain pass in hopes it was what they were looking for (it wasn’t), so forgive her shock when he came back looking like that. He changed out of his regular poncho and new vest combo in favor of a pair of loose pants with far too many belts and his ratty training top that Greez has tried to throw out several times – though not as many times he’s tried to throw out some of his older, more…pungent ponchos. His hair longer than when she first met him, long enough to tuck behind his ears, and when you add that to what’s going on with his face…

He eyes her warily then semi-reluctantly drops his hand, putting it on his hip instead in a sort of are you happy now? pose. Merrin stares at him. He stares back, weight shifting as if he’s about to bolt.

“It looks good,” she declares finally.

Cal rolls his eyes. “You literally said – .”

“I did not get a proper look! You surprised me!” Merrin snaps. Cal throws his hands up in a huff.

He has a beard.

Or…almost a beard. Barely a beard, it’s still growing in and all. But it’s there and it, and it adds a maturity to his face she wasn’t expecting. Before, his old, world-weary soul could only be felt in the Force when he dropped his shields and let them help him. Now, though, Merrin looks at him and she can see the weight he carries far too easily. The beard looks good, yes, but it makes her heart ache just a little.

Cal scrubs a hand over the short, scratchy-looking beard. It makes his freckles stand out, somehow, or maybe that’s because they’ve been hopping from sunny planet to sunny planet these last few months and he’s no longer stuck under the perpetually gloomy clouds of Bracca. He burns instead of tans, but he seems to get new freckles every day.

“I didn’t mean to grow one in,” he admits. “But I’m kinda attached now.”

“Literally,” Cere adds.

He sticks his tongue out at her then jumps with a strangled yelp when she thrums their bond in admonishment like he’s a twelve-year-old apprentice all over again. “Hey! That’s a cheap shot!”

“What’s a cheap shot?” Greez asks, walking onto the Mantis. He looks up from the holopad he was consulting. “Oh. Hey, Cal, welcome back…What’s wrong with your face?”

Cal swears at him in Huttese as Merrin laughs. “All of you! All of you are against me! It’s not that bad!”

“It truly isn’t,” Merrin assures him, sounding only half-sincere to his ears.

Cere shrugs. “It’s not too bad,” she agrees. “I think it needs another day or two before it really works for you, though. Right now it’s…” She wiggles her hand with a wince.

“Ehhh,” is Greez’s contribution.

Cal hides his face with both hands this time, sighing very, very loudly. “You are all so mean to me. Fine, I’ll kriffin’ shave it off. Greez, got anything I can use? My kit got lost somewhere.” He glares BD-1 from between his fingers and the droid chitters in response, sounding offended. “I am not! You’re the one who went over the ledge! I told you not to scan it!” BD-1 beeps something decidedly rude.

“Nothin’ for your human sensitivity. You’re gonna have to wait until our next supply stop, kid.”

He groans. “Unbelievable. That’s a week from now.”

Merrin pats his shoulder consolingly. “You will survive,” she says seriously. “And if you do not, I know several rituals that will bring you back with minimal…side-effects.”

“Thanks, Merrin, you really know how to make a guy feel better.”

She smiles. “You are welcome!”