Fic: Merlin, Doctor Who, RPF, Misc.
I’ve posted a handful of fic on my tumblr, and I’m now in the process of transferring it all over to these here parts, where they should have been in the first place. Apologies if this posts looks cluttered. I’m still new to cuts and protocol. After two years. I know. These ficlets are from the three sentence meme, at some point you can see how I just gave up and they turn into drabbles. OH WELL.
Merlin
lancelot/gwaine, tavern, "never mind, I'll find someone like you" for withkissesfour
He watches Gwaine flirt with this barmaid the entire time; they’re a perfect match really, she gleefully pours his ale and he offers her a story, not that anyone notices that Lancelot’s a key player in every single one of the recent ones. He and the girl get into some debatably deep conversation about Gwaine settling down, describing all the traits such a person would need to finally tame the great, irreconcilable mess that is Sir Gwaine-someone like her, perhaps. It’s at that moment that Lancelot decides to call it a night, when Gwaine reaches out to touch him, something hitching in his breath when he finally reveals, “Never mind, I’ll find someone like you.”
merlin/morgana, elevator, anger for rubberglue
They find themselves left suspended in the air when the lift halts thirty three floors above the ground. He’s touching her, drawing her gasps in past unsteady lips, wanting to tell her how he hates her more than anything, that he can deny her nothing. She digs her hands underneath his dress shirt and knows, oh, to know every mad thing there is to know about him, how they’re both victims and creatures of destiny, exquisite, furious, and repentant.
arthur/gwen, sunglasses, playground/park for lilzipop
They dreamily gallop past the carousel and swings of the playground, laughing until they’re dizzy, mother and daughter pretending to be brave knights, slayers of dragons and rescuers of fair damsels and dads. At the end of each adventure, after everyone’s been saved and peace has been restored to the land, the little girl takes off her father’s sunglasses and kisses him between the eyes. “A token of my affection,” she gladly declares.
arthur/gwen, beach, barefoot for team-angel-coulby
They’re stretched out on the beach, and he nudges the bone of her ankle with his big toe. She ignores him and the silly, wonderful scent of his aftershave- or at least attempts it- having read the same line of her Edith Wharton for the twentieth time. Lying back smugly, he closes his eyes and can’t stop grinning; he’ll get her to put that book down soon enough.
arthur/gwen, hotel room, awkward silence for rubberglue
Arthur holds Gwen’s hand, the same hand that now wears his mother’s ring, and leads her into the suite. For the first time in the twenty two hours that they’ve known each other, they both forget how to breathe and make words. Instead, they read each other’s gazes, expressing the same bemused, self-conscious and, in spite of everything, riveted thought: “We’ve really done this, haven’t we?”
arthur/gwen for maardala
She wills herself to commit to memory every single thing about him, the way he offered a sympathetic smile to an old widow after his father denied the woman’s petition request, his obliviousness to when he deserves a chastening and his face when he lets her do just that, the twitch of his body when they brush passed each other on the stairs, the heat of his fingers lingering over hers on a piece of parchment, and the way he says her name, her full name, what strangers call her, but on his lips, enclosing a shared world of their making.
Most days they don’t speak to each other, they cannot. Instead, there is the awareness of the other and new habits that they’ve fallen into, full of pretenses like arcane riddles, allowing them to return to an ongoing conversation that was first spoken in the woods outside of Ealdor.
bradley/angel, france, hats for withkissesfour
After shooting his first fight sequence, he’s feeling pretty good about himself, like a super hero and bona fide adult all at once, so with the rest of his day off, he goes and finds Angel in her hotel room. When he finally convinces her to go into town with him for some celebratory fruit shopping, she swipes the hat off his head and wears it around for the rest of the day, cheekily refusing to return it because she claims the ratty thing looks better on her.
He conveniently forgets to ask for the hat back until they leave Pierrefonds, until she catches on that he secretly agrees with her.
bradley/angel, france, egos for withkissesfour
It’s been years since Bradley and Angel have recorded a commentary with only each other, and the episode is six, “The Naked Episode,” as Katie dubbed it with extra relish. Bradley groans a little as he watches himself strut out from behind the dressing screen, “Here we go.”
“Hello, Arthur,” Angel says, low and teasing, mimicking his ‘hello, ladies’ voice.
And that’s the moment the two of them decide to get shy.
They ponder talking about the mechanics, how Eoin heckled Bradley between takes, how much Colin enjoyed playing getting knocked out and wobbly (the pointing was improvised, much to all of their amusement), or Richard-yes, anything about Richard Wilson.
The two techies are smirking in the booth behind them, everything suddenly becoming even more hilarious with each wordless second. Angel prepares to say something, anything, when, out of nowhere, Bradley clears his throat and half-mutters in typical Bradley deadpan:
“Nice braid.”
She steals a quick look at him, sees that he’s quite pleased with himself, so she responds with equal self-satisfaction. “Nice… pillow.”
bradley/angel, france, camera for theres-always-hope
In addition to it dawning upon him that there’s an actual kind of-what’s the word- awkwardness to all the heavy breathing and maneuvering in the cramped quarters of this spiral staircase, he’s pretty sure that she’s decided to kill him at some point during the climb-mostly when she kicked him in the back of his shins and declared, pretty emphatically, “I think I might just shove you off the top when we get up there.”
When they finally do make it to the top of the tower, he goes to turn on his camcorder, trying to think up something cheeky to say to her on camera, but then stops when he sees her smiling down at everything, cheeks flush from the cold, her hand idly fussing with the ends of her hair and quickly stopping when she catches herself doing it, as if it’s some bad habit she’s trying to quit (and there’s a part of him that hopes she doesn’t).
He winces, quietly embarrassed at this decision made accidentally on purpose. “You still going to shove me off?”
“Maybe the next time we get up here,” she grins, “…Bradley.”
Doctor Who
doctor/river, bowties, utah for withkissesfour
He’s wearing her favorite bowtie and lets her fix it when nobody’s looking, a habit she’s picked up in all the centuries they’ve torn through time and space and kept each other quietly close. She feels restless when he smiles back at her, like a sad, unheard whisper.
Utah and the lake is just another one of his special occasions, one more moment to savor the stolen quiet before the next great adventure into the stars, where nothing ends.
Misc.
leo and srk as billy costigan (the departed) and ram jaane, respectively for maardala
The applause from the meeting inside echoes into the hall, and Billy looks over at his accomplice, a pistol-wielding man in an old oversized suit. Instinctively, his hand tightens on the grip of his own gun, “Why are you doing this?”
From the other side of the doorway, Ram Jaane clicks his tongue and grins impishly, though not without an almost mournful darkness, “Something to do with a girl.”