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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

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kickboxing

sorry i don’t care abt my titles and it clearly shows !!!! this one is dedicated to @sunnypogue and @everybodyscupoftea you guys should see the pegging jokes in our groupchat

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: it’s flirty at the start and then it’s smutty at the end

_____

“Where are you going?” Colin questioned as Rafe and Sophie came down the stairs, both dressed in workout gear. Rafe was normally adamant on running alone (“it’s like my therapy,” he’d said, only for James to mutter in response “maybe you should try real therapy”).

“We’re doing a kickboxing class. It’s free at the student rec center.” Sophie responded as she tied up her hair into a ponytail, swatting Rafe’s hand away when he tugged at the ends of her hair.

“You two? You’re trying this together?” James asked skeptically, eyeing the both of them.

“Yeah, why?” Sophie asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she put up her arms in defense, pretending to punch Rafe’s arm. “I’m gonna be great at it.”

“You two are gonna kill each other.” Colin remarked dryly, shaking his head. “You’re too competitive.”

“We are not -” Rafe started in protest.

“Last week the kitchen was covered in flour because one of you started a fight when you were making cookies. Neither of you have a limit.”

“It was his fault -”

“It was your fault!” Rafe exclaimed, ducking his head when Sophie pretend-punched him again. “Sophie, if you hit me one more fucking time -”

“What. What are you gonna do.” She rolled her eyes and returned to bouncing on her feet, going to punch his chest a little harder this time, just because she could.

James snorted.

“Don’t encourage her.” Rafe glared at James as he caught her fist in his hand, narrowing his eyes at her. “I’m kicking your ass in this class now. Just you wait.”

“I’d love to see you try.” She grinned and smacked a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon. The gym awaits.”

“My money’s on Soph.” James commented as he watched the two leave hand in hand.

“Oh, absolutely. He won’t stand a chance.” Colin agreed, a small smile on his face as he watched Rafe jog around to her side to beat her before she could open her own car door. “Fucking simp.”

____

After they both got all the equipment on and did a small warmup, the lesson began. “Everyone pick your partner, please!” The instructor announced, and Sophie turned to the guy next to her with a grin, about to open her mouth.

“Do you want to partner up?” The guy asked politely, offering his hand to shake.

Rafe stepped in between the two and slung his arm around Sophie’s shoulders with a scowl. “She has a partner, thanks though.”

“Oh. Sorry.” The guy apologized, turning away to look for someone else.

She raised her eyebrows at Rafe. “I was giving you the chance to pair up with someone more your skill level, baby.”

He scoffed. “Okay. Whatever. You’re just trying to piss me off.”

“I would never!” She mock-gasped, tugging off her shirt and tossing it at him to leave her in a sports bra and small tight shorts. The attire wasn’t out of place for the class, fitting in with the other girls, but Rafe narrowed his eyes.

“Sophie.”

“Yes.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m not. You’re overthinking. Pay attention.” She checked her hip against his, turning her attention to the instructor as they went over a series of standard kicks and punches. Both of them were ultra-tuned in, carefully correcting each other’s form if something looked off and encouraging each other after a strong hit.

After he took her down - again - with a well-timed kick to the calves to sweep her off her feet, she clambered back up and shoved at his shoulder. “Hit me harder.”

“What? I am hitting you.”

“You’re going too easy on me.” She squared up again, bouncing on her feet. “Stop holding back.”

He squared up too, responding with a quick punch to her stomach that she deflected. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Come on, try harder.” She tried another series of punches that he easily blocked again.

“Okay, but don’t complain because you’re too slow.” He caught her off guard with a punch to the ribs, making her groan.

“Fuck. Okay.” She breathed out, trying to kick out at him. He caught her ankle easily, throwing her off balance and sending her toppling to the floor. She lay on her back for a moment, trying to catch her breath and glanced up at him. His smug little smile was enough fuel to get her up again.

“You alright? Need some water?” He asked, concerned, and reached out to her on instinct.

She took the opportunity to send a punch straight to his gut, making him keel over. “I’m fine, pay attention.”

“Jesus.” He breathed out, standing up again and tried to hit her again unsuccessfully. “You’re not mad at me, right? ‘Cause if you are, we should probably talk it out first. Did I do something?”

“No.” She retaliated with a kick to his hip, knocking him off balance again. “No, just trying to do this right. It’s like, pent up tension from when we used to fight for real.”

He laughed and hit her a little harder, taking advantage of her surprised reaction and hooked his leg under hers, knocking her to the ground and pinning her easily. “Got it. Maybe try harder though?”

“I could peg you, you know.” She muttered in his ear as he laid on top of her. He choked, eyes going wide, completely caught off guard.

“You could what?”

That was enough distraction for her to flip them over, despite his six foot three frame, and she grinned down at him, triumphant. “You heard me.”

It only took another moment for him to flip them back over and he pinned her down for real, letting her go after a few seconds. “I won.”

“Hardly.” She argued, accepting his hand to get up. “I almost had you.”

“By manipulation alone.” He retorted. “You’re really cute when you’re trying, though.”

“Fuck off.” She scowled, shaking out her arms. “Let’s go again.”

He grinned, doing the same. “You didn’t mean that.”

“Let’s go again? Yeah, I do, we have fifteen minutes left here.” She attempted a series of hits, batted away by him.

“No. What you just said. The - the thing.” He faltered, cursing when she kicked at his thigh. Even though she was fairly flexible, he still had quite a few inches on her and the balance of height and strength was clearly off.

“I absolutely fucking did.” Her eyes were bright and he was surprised she wasn’t holding back a laugh, but smirking instead.

“No. You’re just trying to catch me off guard. You and those tiny little shorts.” He retorted, letting his gaze trail over the small drops of sweat gathering across her chest.

She did the same - she’d been thinking the entire time about peeling the sweaty tank off his body and having her way with him in the locker room showers. (It’d never happen, of course, she’d die if they got caught, but a girl can dream.) When he checked her back into reality with a firm but gentle kick to the stomach, making her stumble backward, she shook her head. “Sorry. What?”

He smirked. “Pay attention. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am paying - god. You suck.” She breathed out, aiming a punch at his chin.

He batted it away easily. “Hey! Not the face.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a Leo.” She grumbled, pretend-swinging at his cheek just to antagonize him.

He just grabbed her wrist to stop her, using his height to his advantage. “I still don’t understand any of that. Can we get smoothies after this?”

“Fucking - focus, Rafe.” She hissed, wrenching her arm free and tried kicking at him again. He turned away from the kick and caught her with a couple punches to the shoulders, making her hiss. After a few deflected hits back and forth on both their ends, he managed to catch her off guard again and pin her, laying on her like a dead weight as she struggled.

“Aw. That was cute.”

She bit at his earlobe, making him giggle - literally - and scrunch up his shoulders.

“Sophie!”

“That was cute.” She retorted, flinging his own words back at him. “Get the fuck off me.”

“Only if you admit I’m better than you at this.”

“Never in a million fucking years.” She growled, shoving at him.

“Must you be so stubborn?” He rolled his eyes, only getting off her when the instructor clapped her hands to signal the end of the class. He tugged his gloves off and leaned down to give her a hand.

She laid there for another moment to catch her breath, eyes squeezed shut, then accepted his hand to hoist her up and leaned into his side as the instructor thanked everyone and handed out flyers about the next classes offered.

He glanced down at her, affectionately stroking his hand over the top of her head. “You good?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, letting him pull off her gloves to return them. “Just tired. And probably bruised.”

Rafe laughed, grabbing his keys and their water bottles then slung his arm around her shoulders to walk them out. “You said not to go easy. Do you want to go home, take a nap?”

“I’d rather do something else.” She muttered, matching his stride to walk with him out to the car.

“Huh?” He asked as he opened the car door for her, offering her a hand to step up. Once she sat, she fisted the front of his tank and pulled him close to kiss him, hard. “Oh, hello.” He mumbled against her lips, caught off guard.

“Hi.” She breathed out, pressing her forehead against his. “I really wanted to fuck you in the locker room. You’re so hot when you’re sweaty.”

His eyes went wide and he didn’t dare move, frozen in his spot. “We haven’t left the parking lot yet. We can go inside.”

Sophie giggled and pressed her hand flat against his chest, pushing him back. “We can’t do that. You know that.”

“Says who?” He leaned in again to kiss her hungrily, only to be pushed away by her again.

“We’re not breaking the rules. My place or yours?”

“Uh...check Find My Friends. See who’s home.” He jogged around to the driver’s seat, jamming his key in the ignition, and started up the car.

She swiped through her phone, then nodded. “Okay. My place, but we’re quiet anyways, so it doesn’t really matter.” She glanced over at him, then down to his lap. “Are you seriously already -”

“Yeah. Have been since you took your shirt off, I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” He gave her a sheepish grin, his cheeks going red, and shifted in his seat. “And it does matter.”

“Why?” She leaned over and swiped her thumb over a drop of sweat from his forehead before it could fall into his eye.

“Why am I hard? You’re really asking that?”

“No.” She giggled, shoving at his shoulder. “Why does it matter if anyone’s home?”

“Because. I want to hear you.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “It’s more fun that way.”

“Mmhmm.” She let her hand slide down to the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of her neck.

“So, uh, what was that, that you said earlier?”

“Hm?”

“The thing. Uh, when you pinned me. Just for a second though.” He refused to look at her, his face turning more and more red and she could see a clear tent in his shorts.

“Ohhh.” She grinned, leaning closer. “The pegging thing.”

“Yes. That. I thought you’d only been with one other guy?” He glanced at her and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, clearly nervous.

“I’ve been with four others -”

“No. Just sex. Like, all the way.”

“Oh. Yeah, just you and someone else.” She nodded. “What are you getting at?”

“So you, uh.” He pushed his sweaty hair back from his forehead, glancing at her again. “You pegged this guy?”

Sophie burst out laughing, shaking her head. “Rafe, what?”

“You said it so casually earlier! Like you’ve done it before!” He exclaimed, reaching over and grabbing her hand. “So you haven’t?”

“No, oh my god, I haven’t pegged anyone.” She giggled, kissing the back of his hand. “You’re so dumb sometimes.”

“Why’d you bring it up then!” Rafe retorted, all the tension gone from his body.

“I just wanted to catch you off guard.” She grinned, sliding her hand up his thigh and grazed over his hard cock in his shorts, putting on a teasing tone. “Why? Do you want that?”

He jerked his leg, cursing as he bumped his knee into the steering wheel. “I - I thought only lesbians did that.”

“No. I don’t think so. Julia -”

“No!” Rafe exclaimed, slapping his hand over her mouth. “I do not want to hear about the girls and their sex lives -”

She licked his palm to get him to let go and immediately regretted it, tasting the sweat. “Oh my god, no, nothing happened. She almost hooked up with a guy that asked her to but she got too scared.”

“Huh.” He wrinkled his nose, more focused on trying to get the mental image of Julia out of his head.

“I’d do it, you know. If you wanted me to.” She raised her eyebrows at him, dropping the teasing tone.

“I have no doubt you would. But I think that’d be too much power going to your head.” He grinned as he pulled into her driveway. “Plus you hate taking control in bed anyways.”

“That is not - I’ll fucking show you.” She protested, hopping out of the car and striding into her house without waiting for him. He just snorted and followed her in and up the stairs, unsurprised that she took it as a challenge. When he made it up, a couple seconds later, he opened her bedroom door to be greeted by her leaning against the wall in the tiny little shorts and her sports bra, her shirt and shoes discarded on the floor.

“Hello.” He greeted, amused, and closed the door behind him.

“I want you undressed.” She replied evenly, eyeing him over.

“That’s hardly fair, you’re still dressed.” He shot back but kicked off his shoes anyways. He loved when she got like this, all bossy and demanding - it just reminded him of what they were like before they dated and how many times he wished their arguments before could end in kissing and making up.

“Okay.” She opened her arms wide. “Have at me.”

He grinned and tugged off his tank top, striding toward her. “Thought you were taking control?”

“I am, I’m telling you what to do, but you get to do the work. I’m tired - Rafe!” She squealed, giggling as he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed.

“Yes ma’am?” He hooked his fingers into the sides of her shorts, hovering over her and raised his eyebrows as he glanced up. “You gonna instruct me, or…?”

“Mm. Pretty sure you know what to do from here, actually.” She leaned back with a smug smile, intertwining her fingers behind her head.

He snorted and dragged her shorts down her legs. “Brat.” He pressed teasing kisses up her thighs, spreading her legs apart slowly.

She shuddered in anticipation as the cool air hit her, sitting up a little bit. “Rafe.”

“Yeah.” He kissed everywhere but where she wanted, making her squirm. He dug his fingers into her thighs and dragged the tip of his tongue up the inside of her thigh.

“Please.”

“Please what.” He kissed up her stomach, making her huff in frustration as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Please, just - oh, fuck.” She gasped as he slid his thumb over her clit, slipping two fingers inside of her easily as he grazed his teeth over her collarbone. He laughed at how easy she was to please, how predictable she could be sometimes - though he did suppose he knew her body like the back of his hand now. She whined quietly underneath him, pressing her hips toward his hand. “So good, Rafe.”

“Louder. I want to hear you.” He encouraged, curling his fingers toward himself. It only took a few more breathy moans and quick passes of his thumb over her clit before she was whimpering against his lips, unable to stay quiet. “C’mon, Soph, want you to come for me.”

She nodded, desperate, as he worked her body expertly. When she finally came, she curled her arm around his neck, holding him tight to her. “Fuck, I love you,” she breathed out, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Love you too.” He mumbled against her collarbone, nipping at the skin. “Even if you are a brat.”

“You love it.” She giggled, leaning back enough so she could wrestle her sports bra off, struggling a little as it stuck to her skin.

He helped her tug it off, kicking off his shorts too. “Are we still pretending you’re in charge here, or…?”

She was too tired to argue but scowled anyways, gesturing loosely at the nightstand. “Yeah. Grab a condom, I want you to fuck me. Can we get sushi later?”

Rafe laughed, leaning over, and grabbed a condom, rolling it down himself. “It’s Sunday. Our place is closed.” He teased his cock against her, glancing up at her for approval.

She nodded, sliding her hand up her back to comb her fingers through his hair. “Right. Um - fuck -” She gasped as he entered her. “Thai?”

“Nah. Burgers?” He thrust into her hard, making her moan. “Or we could go downtown for that other sushi spot?”

Sophie closed her eyes for a moment, trying her best to think straight when he was fucking her, but felt like her brain was foggy. “Uh - what? Don’t remember.”

He smirked and continued his steady pace. “Can’t think?”

“No - just, fuck, right there, faster.”

“Pizza instead?” He pinched her nipple, grinning when she moaned just a little bit louder. “Close?”

“Yes, please - not the pizza -” She chased his lips with hers, meeting him in a heated kiss.

He laughed, thrusting a little harder, groaning as she tugged a little too hard on his hair.

“Sorry - didn’t mean to -”

“No, fuck, felt good.” He corrected quickly and thrust a few more times after she came with a breathy moan, reaching his own orgasm. He lay on top of her afterward like dead weight, panting hard. “What did we decide?”

“I dunno.” She replied, dropping her head back against the pillows. “I can’t think straight and you’re over here having a full on conversation like you’re putting in zero effort.”

“It’s all that work at the gym.” He quipped, rolling off of her and tossed the condom in the trash. “C’mon, you need to shower.”

“Noooo.” She whined. “I’m starving. What do you want?”

“Whatever you want to decide. The faster your slow ass is in the shower, the faster we can go eat.” He encouraged, stretching out. “Go.”

“Come with me. Wash my hair.” Sophie argued, tugging on his arm. “Did I win today?”

He snorted. “Like, one round out of six. Loser buys dinner, that’s what we agreed, right?” He teased, giving her a short, chaste kiss before dragging himself up.

“That hardly seems fair.” She grinned when he stood and followed, rising up on her toes to peck his lips quickly. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He should have known what was about to come out of her mouth just by the smug smirk that graced her lips. “I’ll peg you if you buy dinner.”

“Jesus Christ, Sophie.”

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meltwonu · 4 years

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| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 | [CHAPTER 7]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, fingering, daddy!kink, dirty talk, ‘cuz you can touch touch me~ 😏 ur gonna need to imagine headband/bandana wearing left&right cheol for this cuz that’s the fantasy i was imagining for this chapter the entire time i was writing it hehe 🍒 quick apologies to anyone who thinks this is moving a little slow 😩 I literally don’t know how to shut up and I end up writing too much LMAO and as always, thank you for the continued interest! Have a great weekend bbys! 💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - ?

dom.cheol has donated $400

therealchan99: yea this is about right on course

dom.cheol: what, did u miss me? 😏

gentleman_josh95: loosely

chwenon: more like the obscenely large donations were missing lolol

You jokingly roll your eyes, exhaling deeply as you push your toys off to the side of the bed. You’d just finished your Saturday show without a hitch, albeit feeling a little lonely. “Aww, c’mon you guys! Don’t tease~” Glancing around the room, it did feel a little odd to you now that Seungcheol wasn’t there but he had called earlier in the day and told you that it might’ve been better if he stayed back.

In truth, you understood exactly how he felt.

Part of you was ready to throw all caution out of the window when it came to Seungcheol and he felt it too. But at the same time, you knew it wouldn’t be that easy and that there were still things that the two of you needed to discuss before deep diving into intimacy, especially when it came to powerplay.

kitty_junjun: hey dont take this in a weird way but like

kitty_junjun: i feel like i saw u earlier today…

universe_WZ: ooo i never thought abt that before

sleepy_wonu has donated $75

xcaliburDK: have ppl recognized u irl before? :o

dom.cheol: i feel like i might’ve seen u irl before too…

Your cheeks bloom a hot pink; a nervous giggle on your lips. “Oh! I mean, yeah, there’s been a handful of times. I’ll wear wigs out sometimes though. Can’t have people calling me out in a grocery store, y’know?”

kitty_junjun: wait so maybe i did see u? I dont wanna give out locations tho…

“Maybe! I’m still out on my little weekend trip and I was out and about earlier~ if you see me next time, don’t hesitate to say hi! I promise I don’t bite~” You pause, leaning closer into the webcam as you wink.

“Unless you want me to~”

You start running a bath right after you end your show, stretching and turning on some music as you start to unwind. Thankfully you didn’t have a tiring show today, so you decided to take the rest of the night to pamper yourself in preparation for your day with Seungcheol.

Biting your lip, you pick up your phone, already seeing a multitude of messages from Seungcheol on your lockscreen.

cheollie ✨: don’t forget ur glass of water!

cheollie ✨: also don’t forget i’m picking you up at 9:30am

cheollie ✨: hope ur ready to spend all day at the roller rink with me baby

You can’t help but grin, already excited to see how Seungcheol spent his day at work. Typing a response, you quickly hit send before setting your phone down onto the nightstand and making your way to the bathroom.

‘I can’t wait! I’m so excited~ u promised me free skates and free food so don’t forget!!’

It’s exactly 9:29AM when Seungcheol messages you that he’s downstairs.

You check yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing down your dress and hair and grabbing your bag before you rush down to meet Seungcheol.

There’s a mild feeling of nervousness that pours over you, but you quickly shake it off once you see his blue headed figure standing outside of the lobby.

“‘Cheollie!”

He turns around to face you just as you stop in your tracks; gasping when you see the cute way he’s styled his hair for today. “Whoa… wow, uh, j-just.. Wow. You look great in bandanas...”

Seungcheol laughs, eyes forming crescents. “I don’t usually work the weekends so I thought I’d spice it up a little. Guess it looks good?” You can only nod shakily, mentally cursing yourself when you feel the arousal already pooling inside your body. He winks at you once, opening the passenger’s side door as you slide into his car.

“Hope you’re ready to have a boring day at the roller rink with me.” He gives you a tight lipped smile, shutting your door before he rounds the car to get in on the driver’s side.

“I’m telling you, it’s not going to be… y’know, anything crazy.”

“Who says it has to be! I’m excited to see where you work and anyway you promised!” You tease, poking him in the arm as he starts the car. “I know, I know… I just---I don’t want you to be disappointed. I bet you thought I was some rich old hotshot before, huh?” Seungcheol shoots you a glance, smiling gently.

“Mmm.. not really.”

“No? You didn’t think I was some lonely CEO with loads of money with a thing for camgirls?”

You laugh at his response, placing your hand over his on the gear shift.

“Nah, if there’s anything I thought about you, it was that you were way too nice to be on some camming website.”

The two of you have idle conversation as Seungcheol takes his time to drive to the roller rink. In all honesty, he was a little nervous himself, although he’d never say it to your face.

“Oh my god, is that it?! It’s so cute!”

He parks close to the entrance, turning the car off as he jogs over to your side to help you out. “‘Cheol, you know you don’t have to be so sweet~” You pout, latching onto his arm as he locks the car.

“Oh but I do. You deserve to be spoiled once in a while!”

A blush coats your cheeks yet again, shy eyes fixated on the floor as he walks you towards the entrance. “Yeah, but all you ever do is spoil me… That sybian was no joke and my god, Seungcheol, the price! I almost had half a mind to return it…” You end in a mumble. Seungcheol laughs, opening the door for you as you unlatch from his arm and step in first.

“You’re worth spoiling. Now stop worrying, okay? I promise I’m not up to anything illegal in order to afford your gifts.” Giggling, you lean up to kiss him on the cheek, nodding firmly.

“Fiiiiine, I trust you, y’know?”

“I know, baby. I trust you too, now let’s go meet my best friend who’s going to play butler for you today.”

He leads you over to the concession stand where an equally tall yet bored male stands. “Hey, Jeongguk!” The said male looks up from his phone, eyebrow quirking when the two of you walk up. “Uh, hey Seungcheol-hyung…” Seungcheol feels a weird tenseness fall over the three of you, clearing his throat to get Jeongguk’s attention when he finds the younger male staring.

“Um, this is my friend. She’s---uh, she’s gonna be hanging out here for the rest of the day. I promised her that you’d give her free food, so uh, just--just let me know how much it is so I can tell Namjoon to take it out of my paycheck.” Jeongguk grins, a sly look in his eyes when he finally meets Seungcheol’s concerned eyes.

“Sure! Can I talk to you over there? It’s about our paychecks actually.” Jeongguk turns to you, leaning over the counter. “Sorry, employee only info, ch--uuuuuh, you know the deal.”

“Yeah, of course!”

Jeongguk points off to the side, gesturing to Seungcheol who follows suit.

The younger male makes sure they’re a safe distance away, watching as you pluck your phone out of your purse before he starts talking in harsh whispers. “What the fuck, dude!? You’re---no, you’re not fucking Cherry. She doesn’t have a boyfriend so what the fuck?”

The blood drains from Seungcheol’s face; the feeling in his fingers going numb as his throat goes dry. “Wuh--what? What are you---what are you talking about?” Jeongguk scoffs, eyes rolling jokingly.

“So, hyung, how do you know her?”

“You’re asking me?! How do you know her!?” Seungcheol’s eye twitches just as Jeongguk shoots him an incredulous look, arms crossed in mock annoyance. “I’m a horny boy, what can I say.”

“Please do not ever use those words to describe yourself again.”

The younger male stands in silence, nodding in thought.

“Fuck, wow, I should’ve noticed. All those extra shifts you were taking, the reason why you could never come hang… You don’t like working here as much as Yoongi-hyung but you--holy---holy shit, wait--you… you can’t be…”

Fuck, here it comes.

“You’re fucking ‘dom.cheol’ aren’t you? You’re the one always leaving her insane fuckin’ donations all the time… and the gifts.. Oh my god. The ‘cheol’ was from Seungcheol, I should’ve known...”

Seungcheol dies a million deaths inside his head; the ringing in his ears becoming unbearable while Jeongguk stares at him in mild disbelief. “It all clocks out, holy fuck. No wonder you were so fucking eager to pick up so many extra shifts…” Seungcheol’s mouth opens and closes a few times, unsure what to say.

“I mean, fuck hyung, I--I’m kind of impressed but wow. You think you know a guy, huh?” Jeongguk laughs, patting the older male on the shoulder. “She’s only one of the hottest camgirls out there right now. You’re a lucky man, hyung.”

A weird possessiveness washes over Seungcheol, hands gently balling up into fists at his side. “Okay, well, she… she’s just here to chill, alright? Don’t do anything weird. And most of all, don’t say anything weird either.” The younger male nods, already walking back to where you were standing.

“Hey, sorry, hyung’s paycheck is gonna be pretty sad next week and I had to let him down gently. Anyway, I’m Jeongguk. You are?”

You give him a fake name; shaking his hand over the counter as he grins at you.

“It’s my pleasure.”

You spend the first two hours on the floor skating; catching Seungcheol’s eyes on you from time to time as he sits nearby cleaning skates. The place seemed pretty empty, which was something that Seungcheol was immensely glad for.

Eventually you skate off out of the rink, making your way to Seungcheol who smiles at you when you come sit next to him. “Told you. Bored already, huh?” The two of you share a laugh, watching as the few other people continue to skate around the rink.

“I mean… it’s different! Right about now I’d usually be six episodes into a new series or something… It’s nice to be somewhere else and doing something different.”

He nods in return, slightly pouting when he turns to face you. “I hate that you have to go home tonight.” You mirror his sentiments, lips quirking into a sad smile.

“I know… I don’t wanna go home…”

Seungcheol bites the inside of his cheek, eyes flitting over to Jeongguk. “Hey, maybe we can bail a little early. This place is pretty dead anyway, and I--I can have Jeongguk clock me out when he leaves. My shift is supposed to end at 3PM and it’s noon now so… We can leave in a hour? Maybe get a late lunch?”

“Seungcheol… I don’t want you to get in trouble…” You mumble, brows furrowing in concern. “Really, it’s okay! We can just hang here ‘til then and still have time to get dinner!” He sighs, knowing you were right. Now was not the right time to be testing the waters with Jeongguk and Namjoon.

“Okay, okay, you win, baby.”

It takes 45 minutes.

45 minutes and a free drink from the concession stand before your mind starts wandering.

You watch Seungcheol converse with Jeongguk behind the concession stand; his cute laugh sending you into orbit when your eyes meet and you can’t stop the thrums of lust pouring over your body when a certain idea pops into your head.

Seungcheol turns his attention back to the younger male and you quickly start to unlace your skates and put your normal shoes back on before Seungcheol’s entire break gets taken up.

You walk up to the two; Seungcheol cleaning off his hands before he exits from behind the counter.

“Seungcheol…” You softly call out; a look of concern crossing his features when he stops in front of you. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, mmhmm! I just--I need to talk to you, if that’s okay?” Jeongguk already turns to leave, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You drag Seungcheol away, tugging him towards an even emptier part of the roller rink as the concern builds up inside of him. “I have an idea.” He feels himself gulp, already anticipating what you have to say.

“And…?”

“Well… It’s… It won’t t-take long I don’t think, just… hear me out?” You question gently, head tilting cutely up at Seungcheol who already knows he can’t say no to you. “Okay, shoot.”

“Wh--what if we… film a small POV v-video… like, not a live one! Just a small upload on my channel to test the waters maybe? I just---you don’t have to say anything and--and it’ll be quick, and--and like, nothing major just a little, um, f-fingering and--oh my god, sorry, I shouldn’t have a-asked, that’s just---I’m s-sorry I was thinking about it and it kinda got to me and I’m---I’m kinda already wet just thinking about it and--”

“No, let’s… let’s do it. To be fair, people seem to like risqué public things like that right?” A crimson blush falls on Seungcheol’s cheeks as he turns the tables, wrapping a hand around your wrist as he walks you to the employee restroom. “It’s… there shouldn’t be anyone in here so we should be safe.” He mutters, checking to make sure before he ushers you inside and locks the door behind him.

“I don’t know what to do so you’ll have to guide me a little here, baby.”

You nod, pulling your phone out and opening the camera app. Scrolling, you put it in video mode, clicking the red button before passing it to Seungcheol. “I’ve never done it either but I’m sure I can just… crop it and I m-mean it’s meant to be a little shoddy, right?” You giggle nervously, body already on fire when Seungcheol makes the camera face you. “You don’t have to say anything if you’re not comfortable with your voice being in the video, I just need… this.”

You reach for his free hand, playing with it as you run your fingertips across the veins. “I’m sorry, daddy… I just… I couldn’t help but think about your fingers inside my tight pussy...” Seungcheol almost loses his grip on your phone; palm clammy when he watches as you bring his hand underneath your short dress.

“Please… please, won’t daddy fuck me with his fingers? I promise I’ll be good for the rest of the day if he lets me cum on his fingers…” You whine.

Seungcheol isn’t ready to have his voice heard yet, so he nods, fingers twitching in your hold.

You take this as an okay to continue, dragging his hand up until his knuckles graze your panties. “O-oh, fuck…”

This time Seungcheol takes the lead; his own body ablaze when he can already feel your wetness soaking through your panties. He presses into it, digging his fingers into the wet material until it sticks to you like a second skin. “D-daddy, please, please, put them inside, I need it!!” You mewl, trying to keep your voice down as much as possible while still being audible enough on camera.

He shoots you a look; one that tells you to hike your dress up until your soaking panties are seen through the camera lens. And you easily follow, holding your dress up as Seungcheol drops to his knees, angling the camera upwards until only his fingers and your clothed pussy are in view. You spread your legs a little more, back resting on the wall behind you.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer…”

He gulps once, saying a prayer before he slowly pushes your panties to the side. And you all but lose any semblance of sanity the second he runs his fingertips through your wetness, pussy clenching around emptiness. “Fuck--fuck me, please!”

Once Seungcheol deems his fingers wet enough, his eyes meet yours, asking for silent consent before he makes any further moves. You nod frantically, fingers gripping the material of your dress tightly.

Seungcheol bites his lip the second he starts sinking his first finger into your tight warmth; already feeling the drool pooling in his mouth when you moan loudly. He starts a slow pace, mentally noting just how obscenely wet you are when he drags his finger out slowly. “Ngh, daddy m-more, please, I can take it, I wanna be f-full~” He gives it a few more thrusts of his index finger before he adds his middle finger; this time slowly sinking both digits into your pussy as you whimper above him.

His eyes flit up, mesmerized when he sees your face contort in bliss. “O-oh my god, I’m--I’m already so close… Daddy’s fingers are so much bigger and thicker than mine, it fuh--feels so good…” You mutter; squirming when Seungcheol doesn’t move.

And it takes him a second; too fixated on the way your tight walls only seem to suck his fingers in deeper.

But he starts a moderate pace, scissoring and curling his fingers inside of you until you’re reduced to whines and soft breathy moans.

He can already feel you getting tighter around his fingers after a few more minutes; doubling his pace when you start to beg.

“Oh my god, oh my god, ‘m so close, fuck! P-please touch my clit, daddy, please make m-me c--cum!”

Seungcheol feels his cock throbbing in his pants but he focuses on you, thumb immediately on your clit as he rubs harsh and quick circles on the swollen nub. He doesn’t know how much time has passed or if his break is over, but the look of absolute pleasure on your face is enough to make him not care.

He curls his fingers into your g-spot, holding them still as he continuously rubs your clit until you’re cumming; thighs shaking as you let out shaky breaths above him.

“Oh m-my god, daddy!” You mumble in a hurried frenzy, thighs clamping around his hand between your legs as the pleasure washes over you.

Seungcheol lets you ride out your high, gently wiggling his fingers inside of you as he starts to slow down.

“Mmh… Seungcheol…”

Oh fuck.

He definitely liked it when you moaned his name.

“Y-yes…?” It’s his cue to turn off the camera, shaky finger pressing the ‘stop’ button. He gently slides his fingers out of you, muttering an apology when you wince.

“You don’t have to say sorry! It’s just… ‘m sensitive…” You mewl, already missing the feeling of his fingers inside of you. “Y-yeah, of course! I, um, I hope that was okay? I’ll give you a second to get cleaned up, I’ll uh, run and get you some water.”

You nod in response, thanking him before he quickly washes off his hands and bolts out of the restroom; ears and cheeks redder than a tomato.

Once you’re alone, you quickly open your camera roll, clicking on the video as you hurriedly crop out the beginning and end, making sure that the short video didn’t have any incriminating details before you open up your camming homepage.

There’s a moment of unsureness that makes you pause. You bite the inside of your cheek, weighing the potential outcomes of posting this to your page.

But before you can change your mind, you quickly start the upload; adding a title and a short description before you lock your phone to let it process.

In the meantime, you get cleaned up, checking your appearance in the mirror once before picking up your phone again. Unlocking it, you find the upload has finished and you exhale sharply, publishing the video before locking the device again.

You move to exit the restroom, already finding Seungcheol holding a bottle of water on the other side.

“Oh, there you are! Everything okay?”

“Mmhmm! I uploaded the video before I could change my mind so I’m a little nervous…” You trail off, accepting the bottle that Seungcheol passes you.

“Well, the good news is, we’re bailing, now. I told ‘Guk to clock me out so we should get out of here so I can get your mind off of that.”

He shoots you a genuine smile, offering his hand which you take.

“Let’s fuckin’ get some ice cream, I think we deserve it.”

Seungcheol takes you on a scenic drive, taking you to an ice cream shop further away from town.

The two of you sit down in a booth towards the back of the shop and he helps clear your head, talking about various topics to keep your mind off of the huge risk you’d just taken.

“Anyway, that’s one of the reasons why I’m never bar-hopping with ‘Guk again. He’s got no limit, nobody can keep up and nobody wants to keep paying the uber fees.” You laugh as Seungcheol finishes his story, taking a sip of your milkshake.

You can’t help but sigh after a few seconds, pouting at Seungcheol who blinks questioningly at you. “‘Cheollie, I don’t wanna go home…” He stares back, unsure of what to say. A million different thoughts run through his mind in the split second before he opens his mouth.

“Why don’t you stay with me for a couple more days?”

Seungcheol doesn’t understand the gravity of his words until they spill out of his mouth; a panicked look on his face when you go completely silent in the seat across from him. “I m-mean, uh, I mean, like, fuck. I’m sorry, that must’ve been way too out of bounds. I just---it’s just, you don’t want to go home and---and I can take care of you while you’re here! Even if it’s just a couple days. I can help you film too!” He curses himself for rambling; immediately shutting himself up.

“I--I don’t want to bother you, ‘Cheol… That’s really too kind of you…” A shy blush coats your skin; chewing on your bottom lip when you shyly avoid his gaze. “A-and my filming stuff is back home too… I brought a few toys with me so I could film my weekend shows but--but my camera…”

“I can ask Jeongguk!”

You shoot him a bewildered look, brow quirking. “He--he streams sometimes too, like, video games ‘n shit. He actually offered me his extra equipment a while back, if I ever wanted to get into it myself. I can ask to borrow it, if you want?”

You drink in his words, unsure. The thought of staying with Cheol might’ve danced across your mind a handful of times, but now that the offer was on the table, you weren’t sure how to respond.

You trusted Seungcheol, and you knew by now that he would never do anything to hurt or betray you. But this was a far leap from how things were the last time you’d seen him.

“Listen, I can see the cogs in your head turning, baby. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I’m not forcing your hand into anything you don’t want. But I know you’ve been wanting to get out a ‘lil more and… well, in truth, I think it’d be nice for both of us? I can take care of you while you’re here with me and we can keep each other company.” He pauses, smiling at you from across the booth. “But I can also take you back to your hotel room and let you pack so you don’t get home too late.”

“‘Cheol I trust you.. It’s just that… I’m s-scared…”

“Scared? Of what, baby?”

The warmth blooms inside of you; shy eyes meeting his.

“Scared that I’m not gonna wanna go home…”

Seungcheol takes it easy for the rest of the day and doesn’t make an effort to get an answer out of you. He takes you around the city, tugging you into shops he thinks you’d like and walking around with you aimlessly until the sun goes down.

But time seems to go even faster once he takes you to dinner; a sigh on his lips when he knows he has to bring the topic back up.

“I hate to ask but… I have to take you back to your hotel after this so…” Seungcheol trails off, leaving it open-ended for you.

“I know… I just want to know… Why do you like me so much?”

The question takes Seungcheol by surprise; eyes wide as saucers. “I--I’m sorry I don’t follow?” You chuckle under your breath, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s just… we were strangers, kind of, before Friday, you know what I mean? And now you’re offering your place to me to just… crash at for a few days? What if I rob you blind? Or what--what if you try something with me that I don’t like?” You suddenly start catastrophizing; mind going a mile a minute with potential outcomes.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, wait. Calm down, sweetheart. It’s okay! Breathe!” You let out a shaky exhale, groaning as you hide your face in your palms. “God, ‘Cheol, ‘m sorry, I--I really want to stay with you for a few days. It’s just that my brain is going light speed and I can’t keep up. I really like you too, you’ve been nothing but kind and sweet and you’re so handsome, it’s just so crazy to me...” Your words are slightly muffled but Seungcheol catches it, a soft chuckle on his lips when he leans his head on his palm.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa and leave you alone. You can take the bed. Hell, you can even rob me blind and I’d say thank you.”

He reaches his free hand over, fingers circling your wrist as he pulls your hand down. “And I’m offering you my place because I like you as you. You’re cute and funny, and so fuckin’ humble. And I want to get to know you better. In person, y’know?”

“Y-yeah… I wanna get to know you better too. And it’s only a couple days right?”

“Right.”

Seungcheol drives you back to your hotel, a smile on his face when he sees you in better spirits.

He parks his car in front, turning to face you. “So I’ll just wait here while you grab your things and check out, okay? I’ll contact ‘Guk to see if I can swing by and take that extra equipment he offered.”

This time you nod cheerily, body buzzing with excitement as you hurriedly step out of his car. “I’ll be quick!”

He gives it a moment before he picks his phone up, taking a deep breath before typing out a message to the younger male.

‘Hey, ‘Guk I have a favour. Get back to me asap if u can.’

Jeon 🥴 : bold of u to msg me…

Confusion crosses Seungcheol’s features; fingers hovering over the keyboard. ‘What are you talking about?’

Jeongguk takes a second to send a screenshot, Seungcheol’s cheeks burning a crimson colour when he sees the content.

Jeon 🥴: it’s the employee restroom for me.

Jeon 🥴: bruh it’s also the fuckin way i knew it was u before i even played the video… fuck man is that why u too so long on ur break? u do kno u went over right, I clocked it cuz i was expecting u to come back sooner

Jeon 🥴: for the rec im not mad, actually im impressed just cant believe this is u

Seungcheol ignores Jeongguk’s messages, instead opening the screenshot again and re-reading the video title.

‘I was so needy… 🥺 so I asked daddy to finger me in public…’

Jeon 🥴: bitch i kno ur reading this im dropping the hyung bc u kept this from me!!

Jeon 🥴: after i even offered u my extra camming stuff u were already doing it behind my back…

Seungcheol rolls his eyes at the younger male’s dramatic nature, fingers quickly swiping across the keyboard.

‘Alright, I’m sorry okay? I just didn’t think my online habits needed to be public knowledge and for the record, that was the first time I’ve ever done anything like that. I promise no more secrets, unless absolutely necessary. And also speaking of that extra equipment, can I swing by and grab it from your place?’

Jeon 🥴: r u gonna cam now? u got one sip of the devils juice and now ur all in?

‘Would u stop being dramatic oh my god. It’s not for me, it’s for ‘cherry’. She’s going to be staying with me for a few days and I fully expect you to keep your mouth shut on this.’

Seungcheol grimaces when he calls you by your online handle; already feeling unfamiliar with it.

Jeon 🥴: o i c. sure, u can come pick it up, simp. I’ll make sure she’s got all the necessary things before u get here and u owe me one!! i fully expect u to come stream with me at least once for keeping ur secrets

‘It’s a deal. I’ll be there in an hour and a half.’

A sigh escapes Seungcheol’s lips, his eyes dancing over to your figure that skips towards the car. He locks his phone just as you tap on the glass, popping the trunk before he steps out.

“How’d it go? All checked out?”

“Mmhmm! Did you get in contact with Jeongguk? What’d he say?”

A nervous laugh spills from his lips as he puts your small luggage in the trunk, slamming it shut before rounding the car to open your door. “I’ll help you get settled in at my place and then I’ll drive over really quick and grab the stuff from his place.”

You hop in his car, fiddling with the seatbelt until Seungcheol slides into the driver’s seat.

“He didn’t ask what you needed it for?” Gulp. Shit.

“I just told him that I was thinking about streaming, for--for gaming stuff. He was okay with it.”

He’d tell you the truth. Soon, he promises.

No. Now.

Seungcheol sighs, hands on the wheel as he stares straight ahead. “No, no, I--I can’t sit here and lie to you. Jeongguk knows you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier, I told him to keep his mouth shut because I didn’t want him to bother you while we were at the roller rink.”

“I--oh…”

He can only nod; eyes dancing over to you as you play with the hem of your dress. “Yeah, I--I’m really sorry. He--He also found out I was ‘dom.cheol’ too and, fuck, I--I don’t know, I kind of panicked too. I hid that part of me from everyone I know so it was just… it was a lot.”

You meet his sad eyes, shooting him a small smile of your own. “It’s okay! It’s a little funny that happens right after that ‘kitty_junjun’ says he saw me in person too, huh? I mean, thanks for trying to protect me at least. It must’ve been weird for you too.”

“Yeah… If you’re not comfortable anymore, I… I’d understand too.” Seungcheol prepares himself for the worst, knowing that there was a chance that this was goodbye.

“Are you kidding! What’s one person gonna do? And you said he’s your best friend and you trust him… I’ll have to take a leap of faith on that one but… I trust you.”

You lean over the center console, kissing him on the cheek. “And anyway, as long as he’s not one of those weirdos asking for ‘favours’, I think we’re in the clear, right?”

Seungcheol grimaces; as long as it’s from me and not you, he thinks.

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #scoups #seungcheol

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regina-cordium · 2 years

Text

WAIT FUCK I WAS GONNA POST MY HC’D QUARTER ELVES hey it’s thursday i’ll cr even if im not watching cr

Vesper Elaina - The Heir™️. has her mother’s mind for sums and economy. one of those ppl who always seems so calm and regal and put together, but she will be the FIRST to cause problems on purpose!!!!! aunt cassandra taught her how to pick locks and she uses it for Shenanigans. who’s gonna think it’s her!!!! who’s gonna accuse vesper, with her gentle smile and cool bearing!!!!!!!!

Madeleine Joanna - Twin 1. okay maddie’s the one i like. projected™️ on or whatever. when i pictured my lil fics, maddie was the main de rolo in ‘em. ranger/gunslinger. had a bit of a breakdown™️ at like 19. yknow those moments where ur like “oh my god im gonna amount to nothing i dont have any skills or hobbies im not good at ANYTHING” except theres the added bonus of ur parents and aunts and uncles Literally Saved The World and all ur siblings are really talented and clearly know what they’re doing and everybody’s looking at you so you uuuhhhh go to wildemount to hide at ur uncle’s place! and ur brother comes with! and then y’all get kidnapped by cerberus assembly fucks hoping to ransom y’all for white stone! ...........fuck wildemount. joins slayers take!

(oh shit i almost forgot, her animal companion is a raven named valor)

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo IV (you can call him Freddie) - Twin 2. unflappable. calm, cool, and collected, much like vesper but less mischief. training to be a cleric of sarenrae. he and maddie are thick as thieves, got that Twintuition to the nth degree. Fuck Wildemount! they don’t talk abt it.

(percy was hesitant in naming their first son after himself. the de rolo name is heavy enough; they’re going to add the extra mantle of percival? how can percy - a man who was driven to the edge by anger and hatred and vengeance - weigh his newborn son with that legacy?

it’s keyleth who convinces him, actually. she’s starting to figure out a thing or two about legacy, and how they don’t have to be an ouroboros of self-destruction)

Cecil - he’s sitting in the library. you get up to get a book. you sit back down. he has a fully functioning clockwork figure. how the fuck. where did those gears come from. cecil. cecil, where did you hide those??

Adelaide Keyleth - tries SO HARD to be vesper’s mini-me. follows behind her like a little duckling, holding herself tall and stately. is learning all of vesper’s tricks and pranks. god, someone stop her. she’s so SMALL for her age she can slip into the SMALLEST cracks. holy shit. took to archery like a fish to water. can shoot a moving target from a mile away. likes to shoot fruit out of people’s hands. a menace, truly.

Julian - nerd (affectionate). rarely seen without a book, and if he is he’s got a notebook instead. everything fascinates him. one second he’s reading about the history of emon, the next he’s reading about the latest developments in transmutation magic. lil wizard boy.

Viola Valora - A Child. what do children like?? seven year olds like hitting things right?? uncle grog is so good at hitting things. she wants to hit things as good as him!!! it’s not her fault nobody makes weapons small enough for her :(

Vax’ildan - A Literal Baby.

(vex was so scared to name a child after her brother. what if it worked like some kind of curse? what if it was asking for trouble, for fate to deal one more cruel hand? what if she wasn’t able to protect this Vax too?

it’s the ravens that convince her, especially the one that stands on her shoulder and peers down as the squirming newborn before throwing its head back and letting out a noise that sound suspiciously like a whoop of victory)

#shut up alex #uh #yknow what fuck it im main tagging this #critical role

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collecting-stories · 4 years

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Dear Diary - JJ Maybank

Request: Hi!! I have a fluffy fic request if u dont mind - JJ and y/n are best friends, but y/n has a huge crush on him and she writes abt it in her diary a lot. One day JJ accidentally sees a page where she is rambling abt him, and he's very happy cos he loves her too, but never told her anything as he was afraid of a possible rejection. So he starts giving her massive hints re: his feelings and then they eventually confess their love to each other. ❤

Request: can I have one with JJ please? Where the reader is in love with JJ but thinking he is in love with Kie or someone else. JJ loves the reader but is to scared to telling her. Can you make this with angst and fluffy? Thank you ❤️❤️

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The first and only time that you had worked up the courage to tell JJ that you had a crush on him you were fourteen. Just finished ninth grade, a little shier than the rest of your friends, excited about the summer, and harboring a monumental crush on your best friend. You had hoped, stupidly, that he liked you back and had eagerly pulled him aside during a party to tell him that you liked him.

“Well?” And when he didn’t answer you back after a minute, just looking back over his shoulder to your friend group, to Kiara, you started to get nervous. This had been all wrong.

“I just, don’t think I like you like that.” JJ replied, looking back at you, eyes apologetic, “Sorry, I think we’re awesome friends.”

“Yeah, friends.” You nodded, “that’s fine.”

“I just-” he glanced at Kiara again, laughing at something John B was saying.

“It’s okay, seriously, it’s good.” You promised, knowing full well that you were lying to him. It wasn’t okay and you were slowly realizing that the ache you felt from not telling him was not worse than the absolute heartbreak you felt now, standing there knowing that he didn’t like you. That you were just a friend and that’s all you ever would be.

Crushes are peculiar things though and you no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t shake yours. JJ was impossible to avoid, even if you had truly wanted to, but you did what you could to lessen the amount of time you spent with him. That first summer after you told him it was like he was everywhere you went. Like the universe was constantly reminding you of your failed attempt at love, putting JJ in your way no matter what you were doing. At a party, surfing with Pope, at your house, at the Chateau, it was like he was always around. The only option you saw for yourself was to distance yourself from the pogues too.

And you did, because it worked. Staying away helped ease the heartache. Polite hellos and the occasional fishing trip with Pope or John B, you kept your distance from JJ and Kiara by proxy, terrified that you would hear something you didn’t want to if you stayed close. But even after three years and purposeful distance your crush didn’t lessen.

The only thing that seemed to ease your mind was journaling. You’d been keeping journals for as long as you could remember, documenting moments in time that you thought you wanted to look back on someday. Good moments like parties and every time JJ said a single syllable to you and bad times, like how you knew he didn’t like you and you were positive he liked Kiara.

The bell above the door of the smoothie shop you worked at rang as JJ and Pope walked in and you pushed your journal away from you before they could get a glimpse. “Hey stranger,” JJ grinned as he walked over, leaning against the counter.

You could feel your heart beat pick up at the close proximity and caught the knowing smile that Pope gave you over JJ’s shoulder. “Hey,”

“I feel like I never see you.” He said, eyeing the board, “can I get a blue mango smoothie?”

“We just saw each other on Friday.” You offered, moving away from him to make the smoothie he asked for. He’d talk his way out of paying for it until either you or Pope fronted the bill, something you were used to when he did come around.

Every couple of weeks, for a least the last year and half when JJ realized that you and he seemed to be drifting apart, he started dropping in at your work, looking for you. Sometimes you saw him before he saw you, ducking into the back and getting a co-worker to wait on him. But sometimes, like today, it was slow and you were the only one in the shop.

“Barely, I offered you a beer and then I didn’t see you for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, I guess,” you shrugged, “I was talking to some guy from school.”

“What about?”

“Uh...none of your business.” You replied.

Pope laughed at your back and forth, grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator by the counter, “I hate to ditch but I promised my dad I’d run groceries for him. Don’t let him talk you into paying for that!”

“I pay for my drinks!” JJ called as Pope backed out of the store, waving at you. “I pay for my drinks.” He repeated, turning back to face you.

“Okay.”

“So I was thinking,” he started to say, cut off by the whirring of the blender. You glanced back and frowned at him, shrugging about the noise before turning back. You were hoping he would leave once he’d gotten the smoothie, drawn away by something else. When the blender cut off finally and you took it out of it’s holder JJ continued on, seemingly unphased, “I was thinking you haven’t been out on the boat with us in a while.”

“I guess not,” you had steered clear of any group activities since you told him you liked him. An incredible feat considering you were turning eighteen soon and you’d been fourteen then. “I work a lot though.”

“Take a day off.”

“I’ll try.” You offered, passing the smoothie across the counter to him. JJ reached out for it, hand brushing yours and smiling like he knew what his smile did to you. “Maybe saturday...if you guys are going.” It didn’t take much to wear you down.

“Saturday’s good.” He nodded, taking a sip, “hey-”

“You forgot your wallet.”

“No, I had my wallet...but it was in Pope’s pocket. Cause we switched shorts earlier, cause his got a stain on them and he didn’t want to wear those to wor-”

“Are you trying to sell me a story right now?” You laughed, “we may not hang out all the time J but I’ve known you long enough, I can tell you’re lying.”

“I’ve fooled you once or twice.”

“Name a time.” You laughed, punching in the employee discount for the smoothie before swiping your own credit card.

JJ bit down on his bottom lip, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you, more serious than the playful nature of the conversation called for, as if he was thinking about something he’d said before. Finally, he shook his head, smiling and tapping the counter, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

You were right, JJ knew he couldn’t lie to you but that didn’t mean that he had never tried. He had lied to you once, in the seventeen years that the two of you were friends, and actually pulled it off. And he’d regretted it ever since.

As promised, because you lacked the ability to resist JJ, you showed up to the Chateau in the morning on Saturday. He was already out on the jetty, throwing fishing gear in the Pogue, just in case.

“Does that cooler have person food or fish food?” You called, walking up to him. You handed you backpack to him and let him help you on board. When you stepped down he didn’t move away, crowding your space and looking down at you. You looked away quickly, though you didn’t miss the way he licked his lips as you skirted passed him.

“Neither,” JJ finally said, popping the top up so you could look inside, “it’s all beer baby.”

You laughed, shaking your head at him. “I shouldn’t be surprised I guess. Where’s everyone else?”

“Pope and John B have work and Kie said she’s busy...sorry.”

“That’s okay, we can hang out.” You replied, shrugging, trying to calm your nerves as you stepped over some reels to sit down.

“Exactly.” JJ agreed.

In complete honesty he had texted John B after seeing you in the smoothie shop, asking if he could take the boat out on Saturday and, if asked, John B could pretend that he was super busy. He hadn’t really put anymore planning into this then that, despite Kiara telling him that he should. The last thing JJ wanted was to make you feel cornered or worse, to have you find out that he knew that you still liked him.

It was an accident, really. A rather happy one, on his end. He’d been at a party with Pope when he noticed your backpack abandoned by the pool. He recognized the pins on the front and went over to grab it, finding a notebook beneath it that had your name on the inside with homemade stickers all over the front.

“What are you doing?” Pope had whispered, leaning passed his best friend to see what JJ was looking at. Pope had seen you with your journal enough times to know exactly what it was. “Put that back.”

“Why? It’s just a notebook...” he replied, voice drifting off as he flipped through the pages, landing on one from the day before. In the dim light of the torches that lined the pool area JJ had caught sight of his name in your handwriting and stopped to read the page. He knew, technically, that it wasn’t a good idea for him to be reading something that you clearly didn’t intend to ever have anyone read, an invasion of privacy, he was sure Kiara would say.

“JJ!” Pope reached around him and grabbed the notebook out of his hand, slapping it closed and shoving it back into your backpack, “dude, don’t read that.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He shook his head, not saying out loud what he had just read. He’d seen it though, that you still liked him. Despite ninth grade and the one great lie that JJ told you. Despite the distance you had manufactured between you and him. You still liked him and JJ was determined to let you know that he liked you too.

He knew that he couldn’t just come out and say it though. How would that go? Him confessing that he read your diary and knew you liked him and guess what it was the incentive he needed because he liked you too but he was so worried about fucking things up that he just insisted on being friends. No, that would never work. You’d be pissed that he had read something he was never meant to. So he let Pope return your backpack and he started a long game of hints. Blatant hints that he was interested, or so he thought but you didn’t seem to realize. You were oblivious that every time he stopped in the smoothie shop or sought you out at parties or invited you to hang out that he was trying to tell you that he liked you.

So he tried the more direct approach. An afternoon on the boat, just the two of you. But that wasn’t working either cause he was listening to you talk about some dumb podcast series your dad was obsessed with and how he would play it top volume throughout the house.

“And the guy said-”

“Oh my god!” JJ groaned. He’d tried sitting close and touching your back and telling you that you looked nice and holding your hand when you stepped on board and you were with him, alone, on the boat, for gods sake.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, a little startled at his sudden outburst.

“You. This.” JJ practically shouted, standing up on the boat suddenly and making it sway a little. “Not...what I mean is...I know I shouldn’t have but I read your diary thing and I know you still like me and I like you.”

“You read my diary? When?”

“At that party like last month,” He said, “did you hear me? I said I like you?”

“I heard you say you read my diary! JJ, that’s my personal thoughts and feelings, I can’t believe you read that!” You were comprehending one part of the conversation at a time and your brain had settled on this. That he had invaded your privacy.

“I didn’t mean too! I opened it and saw my name!”

“You should’ve closed it!”

“Well I didn’t!” He raised his voice to match yours, both of you almost shouting at each other on a boat in the middle of the marsh.

“Oh and what? You read it and thought ‘how pathetic she still likes me’ and now you’ve done all this?”

“Are you kidding me? You think I can even plan something that far in advance? I tried like 12 other ways of telling you I like you! And what are you talking about...I’m telling you I like you!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well tough shit cause I do. And I know you like me too cause I read it!” He insisted.

You crossed your arms and looked away from him for a moment, a deep set frown as you thought about what he said. He liked you. “Like...like me, like me?” You asked slowly, looking back at him.

“Yeah.” He replied, shoulders drooping as he relaxed.

“Well I like you too.”

“I know.”

“JJ!” You groaned.

He bit his lower lip as he sat down next to you on the bench, facing you. “So...we both like each other?” He said, grinning.

“It would appear so.” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you twisted to face him. “This doesn’t mean free smoothies though, you owe me like...20 bucks, at least.”

“We’re gonna need to negotiate these terms.”

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schnitzelbutterfingers · 4 years

Text

At The Crack Of Dawn- Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

A/N: hiya there! i’m so sorry for not posting ‘the forgotten one’ au series!! :( don’t you just love pROCrasTiNATiON and sCHOol? since open heart book 2 is over and open heart book 3 is coming who knows when, i now have some time to write some chapters of ‘the forgotten one’!! except school is a such a time taker. for now, let’s read our favorite couple having a nice morning after the events of ch. 20. as always, please forgive me for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. and as always, enjoy!! <3

A/N 2: i’m still kinda sad abt how mc didn’t have a premium dress, but i didn’t change anything though, lol :)

summary: Set after Ch. 20 of Open Heart Book 2. What could’ve happened after Ethan’s premium scene.

pairing(s): dr. ethan ramsey x f!mc (dr. abigail ‘abby’ chacko)

warning(s): some emotional stuff, but other than that, it’s just pure fluff :) <3

word count: 1210

________________________________________________________________

He woke up to warm yellow rays wafting through the window wall in his enormous and extensive bedroom. Dust particles were flying, suspended in the air.

Beautiful.

Prepossessing.

Yet normal.

It’s too brilliant to look at, yet too brilliant to look abroad.

Ethan has never felt this way in all his private life. Formerly, he used to disregard the sunrise and the sunset, complaining of how the intense light would inevitably get in his vision, making it unpleasant and intolerable. But now...

Looking thoughtfully at the lovely woman in his arms, he didn’t mind anymore. The summery amber beams danced harmlessly along her smooth skin. Her natural, cinnamon scent deep nut-brown hair was sprawled across her shoulders and his chest. Her chest was moving up and down with every steadying breath she takes. Her glowing cheeks were rosy, and his shapely hands naturally started to stroke along them. Her plump, salmon lips were pouted, instantly making him want nothing more than to rouse her up and kiss it.

Beautiful.

Prepossessing.

Not normal, though. Never normal.

How can Abby be normal when his heart beats faster every damn time she is in his line of vision? How can Abby be normal when his ocean-blue eyes go jet-black when he sees her wearing anything? How can Abby be normal when he feels an enormous wave of pride rush through her every time she correctly diagnoses someone?

It’s abnormal. It’s nothing like he ever felt.

A relaxing sensation of peace assailed Ethan. He felt like he’s falling deeper and deeper into the brightness. It’s an eerie feeling, a combination of being jubilant and breezy.

Like sleeping without dreaming.

Like he was abundantly satisfied.

He was frozen in the moment, unable to move. All his overwhelming senses flew into one harmonious feeling.

Love.

The word was foreign in his mouth, and he started reminiscing the last time he uttered that word, the last time he said this to someone. Someone he dearly appreciated. His mother.

Ever since his mother left, he stopped believing in the word ‘love’. He thought of love as foolish, soulmates as ridiculous. Until now.

He started recollecting what happened last night.

Her sleek black dress.

Her creamy legs.

Their pleasant sounds.

Against the window.

The ice cube.

The city lights.

After this, Abby really wanted to sleep in his clothes, and that was the first time he ever shared clothes with a woman. He has donated clothes many times, but last night? It was rare. It was unique.

Ethan put his nightclothes on and for the first time in the many cruel months, they both slept peacefully under the white satin sheets, curled up in each other’s arms and legs tangled together. It was a peaceful night he will never forget in the countless years to come.

When Edenbrook reopened, or should he say Bloom Edenbrook, it was hope for the young resident and the mature diagnostician. A fond hope for them.

He detected a movement underneath his arms, separating him from his thoughts. Abby.

She started stirring, her eyes twitching. At once, espresso eyes met ocean. Abby gave him a lopsided smile, the one that made his stomach swoop. Abby curled tighter in his arms, trying to feel more of him in one move. He responded by doing the same thing.

He next heeded her delicate voice. “Morning.”

He looked down to see the young resident again smiling tenderly at him, her brown eyes filled with amusement. His skin hair started naturally standing up on its own. She has this damn power over him, and he has no idea how.

He responded back. “Good morning.”

They laid their in silence for a while until Ethan practically heard Abby’s head turning gears. He decided to ask.

“Abby? What is it?”

She looked back up at him, receiving a concerned gaze from him, and then she snuggled back a little more. The 22 year-old felt his gentle hand softly stroking her glossy hair.

“Hm? Oh, I was just thinking about last night.”

As much as he loved what happened last night, he knows that’s not what she was contemplating about.

“I call bull. So tell me, Abby, what is wrong?”

She sighed profoundly and responded back. “ I was wondering... if the hospital did close for good, what would we be?”

Suddenly, he stopped stroking. What would they be? Would she move back to Chicago to be with her brother and her mother? Would he move back to Providence? The terrible thought of never seeing her again? No. Never.

He replied back after some critical moments of tense silence. “I would’ve still stayed in Boston. What about you?”

Her answer comforted him, even if he genuinely wants her to become the best doctor she can be. Her voice was husky in emotions. “I would’ve stayed in Boston, too. I would’ve moved on to Mass General. It’s one of the top hospitals in the country. But I would never move to anywhere else, though. Leaving Boston? I can barely imagine that. This city’s my home now.”

And he couldn’t even imagine that, either. Her leaving his life is something he’ll never move on from.

“...Ethan?” she halted him from his thoughts.

“I love you.”

Those three sacred words came from his mouth quickly as he promptly shut his mouth tight, cursing at himself for not announcing those words on a special day. He felt Abby tense beneath his arms, and he wondered if he screwed up.

She.. doesn’t love me? Gosh, Ethan, you were so stupid! Now you made this moment more awkward. Good job.

Suddenly he felt her adjusting herself, and the next thing he knew, Abby was looking affectionately at him, her eyes covered in pink sheen. He took a closer look at them to realize they are not of sorrow. They are of unspeakable joy.

“Ethan... I love you, too.” And she choked out a passionate sob, complex emotions getting the best of her.

The former attending pulled her down to him, clamping his lips to hers with every strength he has, like if he looses his grip on her, she will leave. The second-year doctor responded, kissing him back strongly. He felt her arms enveloping her tightly over her as she roamed her hands on every piece of radiant skin she could find.

Last day, he was thinking about what will happen to the hospital, since Leland is taking over it. But today, his Rookie placed his burden in ease. She said she loved him, too. And he has never been more delighted. Not when his father bought him his first dog. Not when he was accepted to John Hopkins for med school. Not when he graduated as the top student in his class. Not when he won the Adeyemi Prize.

It’s this. This moment. And he can’t wait to spend more moments with her, like these.

They reluctantly broke the kiss when oxygen became a necessity. Abby was presently lying lazily on top of him. He began stroking her arms in a soothing manner, and she shut her eyes in bliss, sighing happily.

Eagerly, she opened her fierce eyes, a mischievous smirk crossing her lips.

“So... do you want me to teach you how to make pancakes?”

_____________________________________________________________

Tags: @missmiimiie @aylamwrites @starrystarrytrouble @udishaman @caseyvalentineramsey @queencarb @choicesstan1 @newcolonies @arcticrivers @angela8756 @takemyopenheart @rookie-ramsey @ohchoices @ohvamsey @ohramsey @natureblooms24 @drariellevalentine @maurine07 @lucy-268

@openheartfanfics

@choicesficwriterscreations

#pixelberry choices #choices stories you play #open heart #open heart choices #pixelberry #pixelberry open heart #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey fanfiction

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

sleepwalking

summary: could you do a reddie x daughter where all the losers watch a horror movie and she convinces them she won’t get scared but she’s obv scared so they tease her abt it the whole night but then when they go to bed she starts sleep walking and richie get terrified and screams running upstairs and he has to literally pay eddie not to tell the other losers

The kernels crunch under footsteps, left over from their night in with the losers and his family, and Richie just about dies. Richie is not often spooked, can’t afforded to be after what Pennywise did to them as kids and how fast they had to react to survive the encounters, scared shitless or not, although he got plenty of practices getting over initial frights when their daughter was just three months old and awoke them out of a deep sleep every night with her piercing cries.

Tonight though, he finished watching three horror films, and he’s downstairs in the pitch-black with his daughter and Eddie both already retreated upstairs. He’s alone on the bottom floor, having decided He was going to write down a few jokes that occurred to him during the evening, like Bill trying to drink his sofa without taking the lid of, and his Rose pretending not to be scared by the movie, even if she had to cover her face with her hands every time the music picked up.

It’s not the first, nor will it be the last, time that he’s stayed behind while Eddie and Rose turn in. The night time seems to spark his creativity better than the day ever does, but it is the first time someone else comes creeping. He knows it’s not Eddie. When Eddie has to get up to get a drink during the night, he’ll do his best to stay quiet, but always falters on the second to last step that creeks loudly throughout the otherwise solemn house. He curses himself over it every time.

The second to last step didn’t produce any sound tonight, but still Richie can pick up on heavy breathing, just outside the kitchen he’s positioned in. Suddenly, the films he bravely -and foolishly- selected are having him imagine all sorts of creepy and ominous things.

His phone, perched to the side of him, lights up. So far, Richie has been listening, trying to distinguish what the sounds are without having to face the possible danger, but now he sees Eddie is calling him from upstairs, his heart sink and he switches into protection modus. He doesn’t stop to answer the phone, but walks towards their cabinet where they stash all the sharp objects - Rose may be 14 already, the habit sticks - and grips the largest one they have.

His hands are shaking, flashbacks of Pennywise are infiltrating his thoughts, but he bans them to the same dark corner they’re always supposed to reside in. He can’t think of that now, not while he needs to protect the ones he loves.

He gears up, preparing to lunch at whoever is waiting for him, but a sudden hand on his shoulder scares him.

He yelps, louder than he ever had, and rips away from the dark figure. The dark figure turns out to be Eddie, who looks about two seconds away from slaughtering Richie to death, despite the latter having no idea why. Richie’s chest heaves, and with his entire body shaking as the aftershocks of the fright leave him, he has momentarily forgotten the threat in the other room.

‘Eddie?’ He asks confused, blinking up at him.

‘No, the fucking demon that lives in this house asshole. Of course it’s me.’ A chuckle escapes Richie’s lips without his intent, but it dies down quickly and withers away after it’s met Eddie’s scornful gaze. ‘I told you to keep it down, rose is sleepwalking again. You know not to wake her.’ Suddenly, the noises in the other room make sense.

‘Fuck’, Richie curses, slapping a flat palm to his forehead in discontent. ‘I thought it was fucking burglar or something Eds.’

One of Eddie’s eyebrows twitch up, unimpressed. ‘So you dismiss the obvious that it’s either me or our daughter, but you jump straight to a burglary?’

‘Well... in that movie-‘

‘Oh for fuck sake Richie’, Eddie laughs. ‘the movie you insisted didn’t scare you and wouldn’t scare Rose?’

‘It didn’t scare me’, Richie defends, even though the trembles in his voice and his earlier rapid doom scenario thinking suggests otherwise. ‘It just had a lot of scenes that could happen in real life.’

Eddie clearly has more to say, more disgustingly covered up affectionate nicknames to throw around, but another voice, confused and hazy with sleep speak up from the other room.

‘Dad? Pops?’

Instantly, the petty argument between Richie and Eddie is forgotten, and they run in to check up on Rose. It isn’t the first time that she’s sleepwalked in the middle of the night, and it unfortunately won’t be the last, but there’s usually a reason as to why it happens. An overload of stress for example, or the overthinking of a mundane task that was, in hindsight, easily done. Richie’s a little unsure about what set this episode off, he doesn’t recall Rose mentioning anything out of the ordinary.

He’s face blazes and Ashley white when he begins to wonder whether or not a scary movie can set it off, and that he was the one who allowed her to watch it.

He stores the question as to why somewhere far in the back of his mind to revisit later, which he will do, extensively. Right now the most important thing is making sure Rose is alright.

In her daze she stumbled on over into the living room, sitting on the edge of the table glass with her eyes closed gently swaying back and forth. If Richie didn’t know any better, he’d think she was intentionally mimicking the film earlier in the evening. She’s still asleep, but her lips mumble words not loud enough to be tangible.

Eddie puts a single digit before his mouth, silencing Richie before the other has time to mutter something. People who sleepwalk need to be awoken gently, not by brute force or a simple wake up, because the changes environment might spook them. Richie is all about pranking his daughter, but he will never wake her up out of her daze for a quick laugh.

‘Rose’, Eddie whispers, starting to shake her slightly harsher than she’s already doing herself. Richie positions himself behind her, ready to catch in the case that she jumps and falls to the ground. Luckily for all of them, Rose isn’t deep in trance, she startles awake from the bare minimum Eddie was doing.

‘Dad, pops?’ She asks disorientated, rubbing away the sleep in her eyes. ‘Did I do it again?’

‘Yeah sweets,’ Richie says,’how are you feeling?’

‘Tired, the usual.’

‘You’re sure? You have to tell us if something else is wrong okay?’ The first time Rose sleepwalked, she ran into a cabinet and injured her ankle, and she kept it a secret from Richie and Eddie. When Eddie found out, he had been rightfully worried.

‘I promise dad’, Rose reassured him. Squeezing his hand. ‘I just want to go to bed. Wait, why are you two down here? Did I cause another ruckus?’

‘No honey, your pops-‘

‘Was just telling your dad about that fancy new car he was going to buy him.’ He tries to signal to Eddie as discrete as possible, but his frantic eyes are probably giving everything away. Still, he hopes Eddie has mercy on him, at least this once, because Rose will never let him live it down that he got scared by his own hand. God, Richie shudders, he can already picture the blackmail material she would have when she gets older and asks him something Eddie forbade her to do.

Eddie smirks, but he says nothing for now, most likely plotting how he can drag this out the longest to torture Richie.

‘Off to bed now, come on. I’m too old to skip my naps like this.’ Richie inches Rose forward by her shoulders, both to spur her on and to make sure she’s stable enough not to fall over. Richie doesn’t understand that much about sleepwalking, he’s not as smart or intuitive as Eddie is, but he is pretty sure it means she’s still half asleep while moving, and that always uphold a risk.

They make it up the stairs in one piece, low lighting and all, and Eddie parts from the father-daughter duo to go back to their bedroom and doze off for the night. Richie lingers, as he always does whenever he tucks Rose in. Every day, he praises himself lucky for the all opportunities he’s gotten after Derry, from Eddie and the losers to his job and Rose. He can’t believe it all happened to him, so he likes to take a moment to soak it all up.

‘Richie,’ Eddie beckons him over, because though he knows how much his husband cherishes his life, he also knows Rose is a child who is tired and needs her 8 hours of sleep at night.

‘Coming,’ Richie mumbles, pressing down one last kiss to Rose’s and making silly faces to ridicule Eddie in good fun. ‘You’re dad is so bossy’, he complains to Rose, who giggles but shakes her head loyally.

‘Careful, he might hear you and then you’ll be in big trouble pops.’

‘Do not mimic me in front of our daughter Richard. I’m warning you.’

‘I’m telling you he has a wire placed on me at all times’, Richie jokes, patting himself down to sell the joke home. ‘Anyway, Goodnight bug’

‘Goodnight. Oh, and Pops?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You don’t have to pretend not to be scared for my sake, I could see you cover you eyes during the scary parts.’ She turns on her side, facing away from her door and where Richie is standing, though the smirk on her face suggest she’s all too aware of she put Richie in his place. He can’t bring himself to be upset about it, she’s too much like Eddie for it to do anything but endear him.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #eddie imagine #richie tozier imagine #adult Richie #richie x daughter #reddie x daughter #eddie x daughter

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littlespoonevan · 4 years

Note

Ik you’re probably a busy person but if you ever wrote a fic about gallavich being soft, domestic husbands I think I’d combust

anon said:Can we pretend i didn’t just said that? Gallavich

anon said: "Can we pretend I didn’t just say that?“ for Gallavich please!

asjksdh okay i have been thinking abt this for weeks. this is disgustingly domestic and i’m so sorry but i legit Could Not help myself lol enjoy

Ian bats aimlessly at his alarm clock when it startsringing, curling his arms back around Mickey as soon as he gets it to stop.“S’your turn to make breakfast,” he mutters, words half muffled by Mickey’sshoulder.

Mickey makes a sound somewhere between a groan and agrunt, dragging the covers up tighter around them. “’m supposed to get Frannyup.”

“You did that yesterday,” Ian mumbles, half-heartedlypushing at Mickey’s side only to reel him back in close against him when hemoves an inch.

Mickey grumbles something unintelligible, pullingIan’s arm tight around him like it’s a blanket. “Can’t Carl do it? Earn hisfuckin’ keep here?”

“Carl’s got the early shift this morning,” Ianreplies with a great amount of effort. Fuck he wants to go back to sleep. “He’salready gone.”

Mickey huffs but neither of them make an attempt tomove, the cold January morning seeming far too unappealing when they’re wrappedup so comfortably in each other’s arms. Ian is just on the brink of fallingback to sleep when the tell-tale patter of footsteps make their way into theirroom. Holding back a whimper, Ian lifts his head, squinting over Mickey’sshoulder to where Franny’s standing patiently in front of their bed.

“Franny, who helped you get ready yesterday morning?”he asks.

“Uncle Ian!” she announces proudly, pointing straightat him, and Ian doesn’t need to look down to know Mickey’s grinning smugly evenwith his eyes still closed.

“Have fun making breakfast,” Mickey tells him,finally deigning to get up properly as he sits up and holds his arms out toFranny. “Come on, kid, let’s play naptime before you get dressed.”

Ian lets out a long-suffering sigh, climbing overMickey as he picks Franny up and plonks her on the spot Ian just vacated.“Remember, count to one hundred and then you wake Uncle Mickey up from hisnap,” Mickey tells her, waiting for Franny’s serious nod before he lies backdown, throws Ian one last satisfied smirk and closes his eyes.

Ian flips him off when Franny’s not looking and dragshimself into the bathroom.

Mickey makes his way down the stairs with Frannyfifteen minutes later, both of them fully dressed and presentable, and fightsback a grin at the sight of Ian at the stove. As soon as they enter kitchen hedeposits Franny in her chair at the table next to Liam and ambles over to Ian,hugging him from behind and burying his face between Ian’s shoulder blades.

“You already got like ten extra minutes in bed,” Iancomplains, smacking his hand lightly with the spatula. When Mickey doesn’tdignify that with a response he continues with a soft, “You want eggs?”

“Yes please,” Mickey mumbles, taking a second tomarvel at the fact that this is somehow what counts for normality in his lifenow.

“Liam,” Ian calls. “You want toast with your eggs?”

“Yeah,” Liam says as Mickey hears the scraping of thechair on the linoleum floor. “I’ll get the toaster, your husband seemsincapacitated.”

“Hey, I’m doin’ just fine right here,” Mickey retorts,mouth lifting up in satisfaction at the way Ian leans into him a little more.“But throw on a slice for me too, would ya?”

He doesn’t miss the very deliberate eyeroll Liamthrows him as he passes them but Mickey sees him put an extra slice of bread inthe toaster for him so he decides not to bitch about it.

Ian touches his hand then, looking over his shoulderto get Mickey’s attention. “You able to pick up Franny from Kev and V’s later?”he asks. “I’m not gonna be home ‘til after 6.”

“I got it,” Mickey says, leaning up on his toes to presstheir lips together before Ian can go back to focusing on the eggs.

“Thank you,” Ian murmurs, covering Mickey’s hand withhis own for a minute before he shakes him off to start divvying up the eggsonto plates. “Liam, make sure you got everything for school alright? We’releaving straight after breakfast.”

“Got it,” Liam says, sliding past them with aplateful of toast. And it’s weird, Mickey thinks, how much of a routine they’veestablished in such a short time. Hell, Debbie’s only been for a week or two.But this feels so settled, so comfortable, Mickey can’t really remember whatthey used to do in the mornings before this.

As soon as Ian steps through the door that evening hedrops his gear bag heavily on the floor, just about managing to hang his coaton the hook and toe off his shoes before he’s diving headfirst onto the couchand into Mickey’s lap. He spends approximately ten seconds rearranging himselfuntil he’s curled on his side with his head on Mickey’s lap before he’s contentthat this is how he’s gonna stay for the rest of the night. “Mm, hey.”

Mickey huffs out a laugh, hand travelling to Ian’shead as his fingers run through Ian’s hair. “Hey. Long day?”

“There was a car accident downtown,” Ian sighs,closing his eyes as Mickey’s ministrations ease the tension in his temples.“Three cars and a van. It was messy.”

Mickey hums in sympathy and Ian is so fucking gladhe’s home with him again. “You eat anything?”

“Not since lunch,” Ian yawns.

“Wanna order a pizza for dinner then?”

Ian feels his mouth lift in a smile, blindly reachingup to pat whatever part of Mickey he can reach. “This is why I married you.”

“Just this, huh?” Mickey asks sceptically. “Nothin’to do with you bein’ obsessed with me since you were fifteen?”

Ian rolls onto his back to stare up at Mickey withshrewd eyes. “Pretty sure it was a mutual obsession.”

“In your dreams, firecrotch,” Mickey scoffs but thesoftness in his eyes betrays him. It always does.

Ian loves it.

“Everything go okay with Liam and Franny?”

“Last I checked Liam was doin’ homework and Frannywas colouring,” Mickey says. “They’re in the kitchen.”

Ian nods, finds Mickey’s hand and gives it gratefulsqueeze. With Lip moved out and renovating the new house and Debbie potentiallygetting locked up, Ian honestly doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Mickeyhadn’t been here to help him deal with all of this.

As if knowing he’s being discussed, Liam comes intothe living room, announcing his presence with a snort – no doubt at theirposition on the couch.

“Hey, little man,” Ian greets, holding an arm out togesture Liam over.

He comes, albeit reluctantly since he’s currently atthat age where he’s pretending he’s too old for affection. It just makes Ianwant to hug him harder, make up for all the ways Liam got left to the waysidethe past few months.

He pulls Liam onto the edge of the couch, holding himin place with an arm around his middle. “You have a good day at school?”

“It was fine,” he says, ever an open book.

“How’d the book report go?”

“Crushed it, obviously.”

Ian grins, reaching up with his free hand to ruffleLiam’s hair. “Hell yeah you did. You want pizza for dinner?”

Liam turns to look between him and Mickey, eyebrowsraised suspiciously like they’re bullshitting him. “Always.”

“Get the takeout menu off the fridge and call it in,”Ian tells him. “Pick whatever you want.”

“No fucking anchovies though,” Mickey warns.

Liam waves him off, standing up when Ian releases himand scuttling back into the kitchen.

Ian relaxes back into the couch then, head stillpillowed on Mickey’s thigh as he closes his eyes once again.

“You plannin’ on staying like this all night?” Mickeyasks bemusedly, even as he reaches his hand up to run over Ian’s arm.

“Nah, I’ll sit up to eat my pizza.”

Mickey lets out a laugh, touch making Ian tingle ashe scratches at the base of Ian’s skull. “Whatever. Don’t come cryin’ to mewhen you get a crick in your neck.”

Later on, when they’ve gorged on too much pizza andMickey is slipping pleasantly into a food coma Ian begrudgingly drags himselfaway from Mickey’s side to put Franny to bed. “Come on, munchkin,” he says,swinging her up into his arms and stepping over the toys on the floor to getaround the couch. “Time to brush your teeth.”

Mickey watches him go and feels a fierce kind offondness burn in his stomach. He always thought he was immune to that girlybullshit of finding guys who are good with kids attractive but evidently not.Or maybe he just finds Ian attractive – in every context.

He doesn’t realise he’s being watched until Liamspeaks, making him snap his gaze guiltily away from Ian’s retreating figure upthe stairs.

“Are you and Ian gonna move out?” Liam asks andMickey screws his face up in confusion.

“Why the fu- why would we do that?” he says, clearinghis throat. He’s been trying to swear less in front of the kids. Fat fuckinglot of good it does when Carl curses like a champ. “We got a perfectly goodhouse here.”

Liam shrugs. “Fiona did and now Lip has too. It kindof makes the most sense for you two to move out next since you’re married andall.”

Mickey eyes him for a minute, catches sight of theway Liam’s shoulders hunch slightly under his scrutiny and feels his own oldabandonment issues come to the surface. He’s pretty sure he knows why the kid’sasking. “Nah, man,” he says casually. “Me and Ian are on probation and have nomoney after the wedding. We’re only both just getting back to work – we’re notgoing anywhere for a while.”

Liam nods and he looks way too fucking pensive for aten year old.

“Besides,” Mickey finds himself continuing, feelingawkward and entirely unsure of how to navigate this conversation. He’s stillgetting used to being sincere with people who aren’t Ian. “Even if we did moveout you know your brother’d kill me if we didn’t take you with us.”

And it’s worth it to see the way Liam immediatelyperks up. “Seriously?”

“Hell yeah. Ian’s not gonna leave you alone untilyou’re eighteen. Prepare yourself; you’re gonna be sick of him by then.”

Liam pauses for a moment before saying a quiet, “Thanks,Mickey,” and wearing a genuine smile on his face for once as he pushes himselfout of his chair.

Ian comes back down the stairs as he starts to leavethe room, stalling him with a hand on his shoulder. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Liam nods. “Just gonna read for a while beforebed.”

“Nerd,” Ian teases gently, an affectionate smile onhis face that does things to Mickey’s heart. “See you in the morning.”

Ian locks eyes with him as soon as Liam’s gone andMickey really thought he’d be used to the way his insides go all warm when Ianlooks at him like that but apparently not. Ian takes a seat next to him againand Mickey somehow ends up with his legs half draped over Ian’s as he turns toface him. He’d say it’s part of the honeymoon phase but truth is, as soon as hefinally felt comfortable enough to touch Ian however and whenever he wanted hecouldn’t stop. He can’t now either.

“Thank you,” Ian says when they’re settled, one ofhis arms around Mickey’s shoulders while his fingers dance over the exposedskin there. “For helping out, I mean. I know this isn’t exactly how you plannedfor our first few weeks of married life to go.”

Mickey offers him a self-deprecating shrug. “You knowI don’t mind,” he says softly. “Besides, it’s good practice, right?”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth he wants totake them back. Not least of all because Ian is suddenly staring at him withwide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock.

“Okay can we pretend I didn’t just say that?” hestarts but Ian cuts him off with a frantic shake of his head.

“Nope!” he declares, looking way too fuckingdelighted as he grabs hold of Mickey’s wrist. “Did you just say you’re enjoyingdomestic life? With kids?”

Mickey rolls his eyes so hard they almost roll rightout of his head, shoving Ian’s chest. “No, I did not say that. Fuck you.”

“Little bit you did though,” Ian grins, wrestling himuntil he’s pulled Mickey beneath him and is leaning up over him on his elbows.“Mickey Milkovich: house husband. Who would’ve thought?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey grouses but there’s noheat behind the words.

Ian’s expression softens and he leans down untilthere’s hardly an inch of space between them. “For the record,” he murmurs. “Ididn’t think it was possible to be more attracted to you until I saw youcooking dinner with a toddler on your hip.”

Mickey groans, covering his face with his hands tohide the fact he’s about to start blushing hard. “Jesus christ, Ian.”

Ian attempts to pull his hands away and after a smallsigh of defeat, Mickey lets him. “You need to go steal a car or something? Makeyourself feel like a bad boy again?”

Mickey glares at him and tries desperately hard notto smile. It’s not his fault Ian’s goofy-lookin’ grin is so fucking infectious.“I fucking hate you.”

“Hate you too,” Ian beams, closing the distance betweenthem and drawing Mickey into a languid kiss.

And Mickey’s helpless not to kiss back, helplessagainst the way his toes curl when Ian flicks his tongue against his. Twistinghis hands in Ian’s hair, he pulls him down further and holds him place.

Okay, so maybe he doesn’t hate Ian all that much.

#gallavich #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #Anon #asks #my fics #meme thing #this got so long oh my god askjdh

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hobgayblin · 4 years

Text

Ship: Demacia’s Downfall (Rayden/Sylas)

Words: 1931

Summary: Sylas learns Rayden’s full name and they have a little talk abt last names and things

[high kicks] I wrote this at like 1am and was exhausted so it’s kinda bad but I’m too lazy to change it so yeehaw. gay people

“Rayden Vrontí Van Daal”

The name rang out through the camp with the inflection of a mother scolding her child, but twice as loud. Sylas’ brow furrowed as he looked up from his book and towards the open flap of his tent. It was normal for people to be yelling at Rayden, but the accompanying names were new to him. Were it not for the quickness and intensity it was said with, Sylas would have thought it was several people being yelled at. Before he could make a move towards the entrance loud footsteps and hurried shuffling could be heard just outside. Sylas watched as a shadow darted across the front of his tent before the criminal in question frantically scurried inside. His mouth opened but all the words he was going to say flew right out of his head as Rayden’s hands gripped onto his arm and travelled along his shoulders to his back in a similarly rough manner. He craned his head to the side to try and look at the man that was now crouched down behind him, hands latched onto both of his shoulders.

“What are you--”

“SHH-shshshhhh” One of Rayden’s hands sprung up to cover Sylas’ mouth, and the smaller man stood up just a bit so his face was pressed up against his. Though his cheek was squished against Sylas', his eyes were trained on the tent’s entrance.

Several long moments of silence hung in the air as the two stayed completely still. Sylas considered trying to ask again, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind Rayden released him and hid behind him just as fast as he’d grabbed him. Once again his neck craned to the side to look at the curled up man, but he quickly returned his gaze to the front of the tent. Another shadow passed by and stopped just before the entrance. The person casting the shadow poked their head into the tent and scanned around suspiciously before focusing on Sylas and giving a small wave; their hair seemed to be quite puffed out and a bit staticy, as it was sticking to the sides of the tent a bit. Sylas just gave a smile and waved back to the other mage before they disappeared back outside and continued on their way. Once he was sure they were gone he turned himself around so he could see the little ball of lightning magic behind him.

“How,” Sylas started, putting a hand on Rayden’s shoulder and bringing him out of his ball position, “did you manage to break the rules of a place that doesn’t even have any rules.”

“I simply attract trouble, like a mean little magnet. That’s just how it is.” Rayden straightened himself out into a normal sitting position as Sylas pushed him out of his ball.

“And what sort of trouble have you attracted this time?” Sylas closed his book and set it aside, knowing full well he wouldn’t be getting back to it anytime soon. “They sounded quite cross.”

“Welllll…” The last letter was drawn out for quite a bit before Rayden stopped and took a deep breath. “They were doin’ their hair and I thought it would be fun to mess it up-- just a little bit though-- but I didn’t mess it up just a little bit I messed it up a lot, and they got really mad and they’ve been chasing me around for awhile and, and, uhhh…”

Sylas nodded as Rayden trailed off from his fast-paced explanation and just sat there with a confused look on his face. The confusion quickly subsided and he looked back up at Sylas with a wide grin on his face. He was always so cute when he had a mischievous smile on his face, which was… most of the time. It was impossible to tell if he was planning something else or he simply forgot what he was talking about, but either way Sylas couldn’t help but smile back at him as Rayden continued to look up at him.

“What was it they yelled at you? Rayden…”

“Vrontí Van Daal? Yeah that’s the rest of my name!”

“Ohh a middle and last name? I didn’t know you were so fancy” Sylas’s voice was a bit mocking, but a good natured kind. “Am I in the presence of royalty?”

“Royalty?” Rayden laughed at the suggestion and slapped Sylas on the shoulder playfully. “The only royal I am is a royal pain in the ass, buddy!” Another peal of laughter came from the man at his own stupid joke.

“No? Thank the gods I was afraid I’d have to kill you for a second.” Sylas gave a light chuckle himself, mostly due to Rayden’s delight.

“You couldn’t if you tried, pretty boy.” Rayden’s tone became serious for a second as he pointed an accusatory finger at the man. It didn’t stay serious for even a minute before his tone lightened back up.

“I just wanted a cooler name. So I gave myself a cooler name!”

“You… just gave it to yourself?” A confused look spread across Sylas’ face as Rayden just smiled and nodded furiously.

“Yeah! Why not. I was changing my name anyway might as well go all the way, ya’know?”

“Hm…” To just give yourself a completely new name seemed… Well, it made sense for Rayden, but it still seemed so strange. “Is there a meaning to the name?”

“Meaning?” Rayden tilted his head to the side, matching Sylas’ confused look with one of his own. “It doesn't need a meaning, I just thought it sounded cool.”

“Just because it sounded…” Sylas’ brow furrowed even more as he continued to stare down at the man. “Last names should carry meaning with them. They signify higher society... a purpose.” The names of the Demacian nobles immediately came to mind. Crownguard… Lightshield… Names he detested, but they carried weight with them. To just give yourself something like that seemed almost like cheating.

“Why?” Rayden’s tone flattened to a more annoyed one. “Is it not enough to simply make you stand out? To differentiate you from others of the same name? To just sound cool?”

“I… I suppose.” The shift in tones wasn’t expected. This wasn’t something he wanted to push too far, on the off chance Rayden would get actually mad about it. “There’s other ways to differentiate, but--”

“Yeah, like adding where you’re from?” The annoyance stayed steady in his voice as he continued the topic himself. “How many Sylases do you think there are in Dregbourne? You think you’re the only one?”

“I-- Well probably not, but--”

“So, why don’t you spice it up a little!” Rayden’s hands flew up into the air as he yelled, causing Sylas to flinch just a bit. “You’re already well known, why not give yourself a cool last name huh?”

“Yes, I’m already known. As Sylas of Dregbourne. As in the most notable Sylas of Dregbourne.” Annoyance started to seed its way into his voice now as well. It was a bit silly to get annoyed about, perhaps, but he didn’t quite like the insinuation his name was too boring.

“Is that how you want to be remembered?” The smaller man’s arms crossed and he sneered up at Sylas. “You want people to know you as some criminal from the slums? You’re so much cooler than that! You could be uh… Sylas MageSomethin… Sylas… Uhh….” He trailed off for a minute, the gears in his head very clearly turning, desperately trying to think of something.

“Oh! Oh!! Sylas Kingslayer. That’s one you earned!”

That… That one wasn’t an awful suggestion. Sylas’ face softened back up as the annoyance faded. He still didn’t want to just give himself a last name like that, but Rayden did have a point. It was… kind of sweet he cared about his image somewhat. Not that image mattered much, especially not for someone who was already known as one of Demacia’s most wanted criminals.

“I appreciate the suggestion, but I’m fine with my name as it is right now.” His tone softened along with his expression, softened so much it was only a bit above a whisper.

“Alright, Alright, I’ll drop it.” Rayden pouted a bit as he stared up into Sylas’ eyes. “I just want… I don’t know… You deserve for people to know you as more than just a man named Sylas from the slums of Dregbourne.”

A smile crept back across Sylas’ face at the sentiment. It was such a strange thing to get hung up on, but it was sweet to know he cared.

“I can assure you, people aren’t just thinking of me as a Sylas of Dregbourne. They’re thinking of me as the Sylas of Dregbourne, escaped convict, rebel mage, and slayer of their king.” A hand came up and hesitantly hovered to the side of Rayden’s face for a moment before gently settling on his cheek. Rayden absentmindedly nuzzled the hand as he continued looking up into Sylas’ eyes. The smile on Sylas’ face widened. Usually Rayden would have bitten him for touching his face so tenderly, but he’s either decided to accept it, or he just hasn’t noticed yet.

“Perhaps one day I will take a last name.” The gentle smile on his face turned into more of a smirk at this point. “Sylas Van Daal has quite a nice ring to it.”

“Y-Yea-- Hey now wait a minute.” Rayden snapped out of his stupor and used the back of his hand to push Sylas’ hand away from his face. “First you’re out here stealing magic, now you’re tryin’ to steal names too? Huh? Punk?”

With the words Rayden reached up and grabbed Sylas by the collar, pulling him down so they were eye level. Sylas stifled a laugh as he was brought down and being given quite the stink eye. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually misunderstood him, or if he was intentionally ignoring what he implied, but either way it was cute.

“Nooo, no. I would never steal anything from you, little duckling. I--”

“HEY! Hey! What the fuck!” A light red tinted Rayden’s face at the use of the nickname. Sylas’ smile widened once again as he got exactly the reaction he wanted. “Don’t say that! I’ll fucking maul you, mage boy!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” The sarcasm in his voice was laid on especially thick, just to make sure Rayden got it. “Would you prefer a different name? Little lightning bug? Perhaps simply darling? Or maybe loverboy--”

“OH MY GOD! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!” Rayden threw his arms into the air again, releasing Sylas’ collar in the process.

As Sylas straightened himself out Rayden’s hands started moving around, wildly gesturing, as he babbled all sorts of barely coherent protests to the pet names. It would have been nice if he’d just accepted the affection, but it was hard to deny that watching him overreact so much was so incredibly entertaining. After a few minutes of his flailing and slinging swears around Rayden took a deep breath and stood still. At first he looked straight ahead, seemingly at nothing, but then Sylas watched his eyes come up and meet his own. As soon as their eyes locked Rayden let out a loud, frustrated scream and turned around, stomping out of the tent with a huff. Once he was gone, Sylas turned and laughed into his hand, with a few snorts coming out periodically as well. Rayden was certainly a strange one, but if nothing else he always knew how to make a scene.

#its time for gay people #rayden is a dumb little bitch and i love him very much #⛓️#rayden #demacia's downfall #writing

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lizzieraindrops · 4 years

Text

Your chance to make the sun rise thrice (Chapter 2)

a river that still runs (8803 words)

Beth Childs has come to Helsinki to meet her best friend Veera for the first time in the Herbs on the windowsill universe, an alternate timeline where the original Helsinki massacre was prevented and DYAD routed by Clone Club Alpha’s successful publicity stunt back in 2001. Veera Suominen and Niki Lintula survived and decided to live in a little apartment together as qpp’s. Numerous Leda clones worldwide are now in contact via a secure online network that Veera maintains.

Note: This chapter is a bit heavier than the rest of the AU. Beth is still struggling with a lot of the same challenges in this universe, even if the events causing them are somewhat different because of such early canon divergence. But the whole point of this story is that things can end up okay no matter how rough it's been. She's getting the help she needs and she's gonna be alright. That said, warning for soft discussion of past abuse, the effects of trauma, depression and anxiety, and some suicidal ideation. And of course, lots of love and learning how to heal, with support from her best friend.

Fun fact: Veera's username is 3mika, and she always sets her font to the precise warm turquoise of hex color #2299aa. She thinks she's hilarious, and she's right.

Also on AO3 | Playlist | Aesthetic sideblog

Part 1: Herbs on the windowsill

Part 2: Someday colors

Part 3: Your chance to make the sun rise thrice | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

***

Beth wakes on a squashy couch that isn't hers. Morning-soft sunlight pours through the window above her, bouncing back off the walls to fill even the shady corners with a warm secondhand glow. Her limbs are soft, splayed under unfamiliar blankets and sinking into the cushions. She doesn't move yet.

The apartment. Helsinki. Beth's really here. She holds herself still, letting the truth sink into her. She half expects the usual anxious tension to clench her into a ball the instant she moves a muscle, but it isn't there. Neither is the invisible weight that so often pins her immobile. She still wakes frequently with both of them holding her body hostage, keeping her muscles unmoving but restless, even in sleep. Right now though, they're gone. She just lies there, soft beneath the window.

It's quiet but not silent. The occasional car on the little road outside chuckles as it passes. A soft rush of water echoes through pipes in the walls, running toward an early riser in another unit. These sounds fall strangely on Beth's Toronto-bred ears, isolated in the stillness of this of this little apartment on the outskirts of the city. Still, the early-morning atmosphere settles comfortably into her jet-lagged bones, murmuring a rhythm for her to sink into. The temporal upheaval of a transcontinental red-eye and a series of exhausted naps yesterday have left her a little unbalanced. And yet, here she is waking up with the day, and the ground under her feels so much more stable than she’s used to.

Beth breaks her stillness with a deep, deep breath that she can feel expanding all the way down to her feet. She stretches, too, but soon pulls the toes that get exposed back underneath the warm, scratchy blanket. The cushions of the old couch creak a little in complaint as she shifts, but her limbs remain supple. For a time, she just observes the sensations. Then, her awareness spreads beyond the couch and the window to the rest of the room.

All around her, an oddly blocky pattern covers the walls. It's one of the first things she noticed when she walked into the apartment yesterday afternoon. The pattern isn't wallpaper like it appears at first glance, but actually a multitude of small photographs. Most of them are unframed, but taped up in crisply aligned rows. In them, she sees the same face infused with a hundred different lives. Just above her, a sleeping, slack-jawed redhead with bulky headphones around her neck sprawls on the very same couch Beth's laying on now. A few rows down, a brunette and a blonde with their long hair in matching wild waves are leaning all over each other and grinning like devils. One of the few framed photos shows a girl with a hospital-short buzz cut and a delighted expression, sitting in front of what looks like a mouthwatering strawberry shortcake. Beth can see at least six others in the background behind strawberry girl. Among them are Mika with her unmistakable scars and Niki with her bright blonde hair, their arms around each other's shoulders.

Morning light glances off the glossy surfaces of the photos on the west wall. The particularly bright reflection off one of the framed photos draws Beth's eye. With a tiny jolt, Beth recognizes one of her own selfies beneath the glass. In it, she's wearing the same old turquoise blue sweatshirt that's spilling out of her suitcase next to the couch right now. Underneath it, she's wearing her track gear, so the photo is at least two years old. She'd had to quit cross-country so she could try to get the shitshow her life had become under control. She vaguely recalls sending it to Mika a long time ago. It's strange to think that her presence has been in this apartment for so long.

She's here. In Finland. Staying with Mika – Mika - and Niki. Far, far away from everything.

Sprawling on the couch she slept on with a sigh as if she hadn’t a care in the world, Beth can't believe she's really gone and done it. She's run so far away that there's an ocean between her and her problems. It’s so much better than she's dreamed, even if it's only for a little while. It’s worth it, even though she'll be going back far too soon. For the first time in years, it feels like she’s where she’s supposed to be right now.

It had all started out as foolish idea she'd floated one Saturday morning, months ago. She hadn't been serious at all. She'd woken up so relieved at not having to get up and go to work, until she remembered her weekly therapy appointment with a hopeless groan.

Putting off the genuinely daunting prospect of hauling herself out of bed, she reached out to snag her phone from on top of her dresser, checking to see if she'd heard from Mika overnight. After all, Helsinki was nine hours ahead, so Mika had already seen most of the day that was just beginning for Beth. They talked so often these days, since they'd first made contact over two years ago. Rarely a day passed without touching base. But there wasn’t anything since Beth had checked last night. She took it upon herself to send the first message of the day.

runwaterblue: god, i dont wanna get up and deal with any of thsi shit today

After her world fell apart, after finding out about Project Leda, after realizing that all her nightmares and more were real, after her father...

runwaterblue: wish i could come visit u and get away form everything for awhile

Mika replied almost immediately.

3mika: you can

It was evening in her time zone, but to be honest, Beth had no idea if she had anything resembling a regular sleep schedule. The girl was always online.

3mika: though you really should go to your appointment. you always feel better afterward

runwaterblue: howd you know i have therapy today

3mika: you always have an appointment saturday afternoons

runwaterblue: yes but how do you remember that? i cant evne remember my own appts lmao

3mika: you mentioned it months ago when you switched from sundays to saturdays

Beth shook her head with a smile. Mika was so good with details.

3mika: anyway. you’re welcome here, if you can get here

3mika: it would be great to see you

3mika: Niki wouldn't mind. we've had a bunch of Ledas visit us here, it's always fun

3mika: except that one time Dani and Ary got into a fight over football. some French-Italian team rivalry thing. that was not fun.

Beth laughed. It was funny how Mika was so good at making her do that, even on days like these. She leaned back against her pillow and held her phone over her head without sitting up, being careful not to drop it on her own face. She'd done that before. More times than she'd admit.

runwaterblue: i was kidding. id love to visit, but idk how id get there

runwaterblue: u should see the americans go off abt their football lmao. they're nerly as bad as the hockey freaks here

3mika: pls no

3mika: no more sports. it was a year ago and I’m still exhausted

3mika: sports are banned in this apartment.

Beth snorted. Mika wanted nothing to do with sports of any kind, and with Beth's athletic record, the topic had become a point of mutual teasing between them.

In so many ways, they were such different people, DNA be damned. Mika was reticent where Beth was outgoing. (Or at least, Beth had been. She was never quite sure how to think of herself these days.) Clone drama aside, Beth had been a pretty average Canadian high schooler. She got reasonable grades, played a few sports, and kept mostly out of trouble because there would be hell to pay if she didn’t. Mika was a brilliant homeschooled autistic orphan who had been raised in near isolation by her guardian after surviving the hospital fire that marked her skin for life. Beth mostly listened to pop music, and where no one else could hear, the occasional classical symphony. Mika held fast to Finland's weird obsession with death metal and dabbled in literally everything else.

And yet, Mika understands Beth like no one else does. And it's not just because they've both been through all this Project Leda bullshit. Though Beth doesn't know what she would have done without Mika to help her through that, too.

Beth won't ever be able to forget the moment that everything changed. Recognizing a her own face from the mirror on the evening news stopped her in her tracks, as something in her gut caved in with the hollow certainty that it wasn't her. Then face after face flickered before her, a flipbook barrage of déja vu. Blonde and smiling. Scarred and pensive. Braids and piercings and a rakish grin. Beth was rooted in place as people she had never been wearing things she had never worn said things she was never supposed to know.

That utter strangeness on the screen immediately seeped into her life like an oil slick into a river, tainting every thing she thought she knew with clinging uncertainty. Her father was inexplicably even more upset about it than Beth was, yet adamant that they shouldn't look into the matter. But it was already too late to stop herself from thinking. With slow horror, the truth of what exactly his behavior must mean dawned on her. And yet, even with the desperate growing certainty about who her Leda monitor must be, it was hard to believe that he could be anything other than her plain stern father.

He was always a bit strict and overprotective - probably well more than a bit, she realizes these days. But she’d thought that's just what it was like to be a cop's daughter. He'd never done anything really extreme, nothing beyond the firm discipline any kid could expect. He was just not a man to be trifled with, that was all. So until everything she thought she knew shifted that day and threatened to topple every assumption she’d built her life on, she had never truly dared to cross him.

Outright daring him to say to her face that he wasn't her monitor was probably considered a step beyond trifling. He did not take it kindly.

Two months later, Beth and her mother were living in an apartment on the opposite side of the city. It took two months for the two of them to lay plans to leave together, for good. For two months, her every move was watched. She spent two months knowing there would be hell to pay if she didn't give the performance of a lifetime pretending everything was fine, even while sirens blared inside her day and night. Two months was more than enough to teach her things she never wanted to know about the hidden marks fear leaves on the body.

Even after she finally escaped, her life was in tatters and nothing made sense. It wasn’t just the sudden jarring discovery of Project Leda, or the crisis it had forced her to confront. It was learning that, deep down, she had known that she’d never once felt free. She’d unconsciously kept herself from knowing to avoid exactly that conflict of wills that she’d known she would lose.

Trying to come to terms with what had happened and how it changed everything, Beth was continuously losing her balance. Questioning which parts of her life had been screwed over by her father and which by being part of some ridiculous supervillain science experiment was like trying to stand on two kickboards in a pool. She couldn't find her footing, and all she could do was try and stay afloat. She had to repeat her whole junior year of high school that she lost to this shitshow, while starting over at a new school, and only barely scraped her way into senior year. Now that she knew how honestly terrible she'd been at judging who in her life she could trust, it was as hard to talk to old friends as it was to make new ones.

Therapy helped her start sorting out what she was feeling, and how the environment she’d grown up in was really not the healthiest. She hadn’t realized how much she’d learned to doubt her own perceptions. That made constructing any kind of new understanding of her situation an uphill struggle. And of course, her therapist couldn’t help her confirm anything about a human experiment that was so illegal it had been an international secret. As she continued to stumble forward, Beth even started doubting her former certainty of the identity of her Leda monitor. She questioned herself and everything she knew until she wanted to scream with frustration or weep with confusion. The floor of the counselor’s office could have been mopped with her tears. It was, quite literally, driving her mad.

So, finally, Beth had taken up the invitation on the banner of every Leda news feature to "Contact the secure, clone-run Clone Youth Group Network (CYGNet) for answers by emailing [email protected]."

She wanted something concrete that would help convince her brain to stop reenacting these head games that warped her reality. It still insisted on playing through the patterns it had been taught, even in its teacher’s absence. She needed something that could brace her against the ideas that she was really just paranoid, overreacting, accusing, that this was all her fault for making a big deal out of nothing. Even with his other faults (cruelties, her mind whispered) aside, at least his involvement with Project Leda was unforgivable, and she wanted proof of it. Maybe if she had that, she could stop being mad at herself for not wanting to forgive. And if anyone had that proof, CYGNet would.

Maybe it was just because of the sheer blunt honesty about her motives, or the inescapable vulnerability of the message Beth sent, but Mika had replied to her within a day. And she'd been so gentle about it, too, enough to make Beth later question where the stereotype of autistic brashness came from. Then again, over email, Mika had all the time she needed to compose her thoughts and lay them out as softly as she wanted. She didn't have to spit them out as fast as she could to keep pace with a quick and painfully overwhelming world.

Hi Beth Childs,

I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. I still don't know how they got away with doing things like this for so long. I suppose people will always find ways to be cruel. But we've survived this long, and the whole point of CYGNet is to help us all heal. The experimental network has been dismantled, and we are assembling resources to help us. We've brought mental health professionals on to the project to develop custom programs for our needs. We can make them available to you, if you are interested.

I attached scans of some of your files that we recovered from DYAD. There are a few case reports with the signature of the person you asked about, spaced throughout your lifetime. There are also financial records with his name in the list of paid employees. He was without a doubt part of the Leda monitor program. I can provide all of the documentation that we have related to you, if you like, but I thought that would be too much all at once. I know these are hard to look at, but I hope they help let your mind rest. They are very real, and every awful thing we have experienced was also real, no matter how they tried to convince everyone that we were making it all up.

Please take your time with these, and stay in contact if you want to. You can join our mailing list, if you want to know when we have new information or new resources available. We're here for you.

And hey, if you just want to talk to someone who knows what it's like to deal with all of this, I'm here, too. You can reach my personal inbox or IM me at [email protected]. It'll be okay.

-Veera

Beth had started crying before she even finished reading the letter, much less opened the attachments. She cried so often these days. She only knew why half the time. But this time, it felt like the tears were extracting some of her pain as they left her, instead of just overflowing from the unending wellspring of her directionless distress. All of this was real, and someone else knew it.

Though she was grateful beyond measure for her mother’s untiring support, they were each other’s too-close, ever-present reminders of what they’d survived, trying to act like they weren’t, trying to convince each other and themselves that they were okay. Beth had needed something else, too, something until now unnamed.

This was a handhold, a backstop Beth didn't know she'd been desperate to find. It wasn't just the confirmation of what she’d concluded about her father. The ability speak plainly to someone she didn't feel the need to pretend around was an exhale of a breath held too long. At least one person in the world not only understood, but really and truly didn't want or expect her to act like any of this was normal or okay, or that she would ever be the same again.

Veera – or Mika, as she often went by online – made good on her offer of a sympathetic ear. Their correspondence started off with awkward, grammatically correct messages about the less painful details of their lives. Mika told her about the farmer’s market three blocks away where she went walking early in the morning before it got busy, and the plant stand there that her best friend and roommate Niki (also a Leda) had to ask her to stop buying so many succulents from.

At first, Beth tried to chatter like she used to, but there were no safe subjects. What had happened had touched all of her life. Normally, she’d talk about school, or sports, or her friends. But she was trying to start all over again at a new school with all the struggles that came with it. She didn’t have the time or energy for sports anymore, and talking about them hurt, now. Running used to make her heart sing. But no matter how she tried, there was no joy in the motion anymore. To top it all off, it was as hard to connect with old friends from her old life as it was to try and make new ones. She spent most interactions either doubting her own character judgement or dreading the moment people recognized her Leda face from the news.

She didn’t know how to talk about any of it to anyone. Maybe she could have if it had been just the clone thing or just the dad thing. But the two were inextricably entangled, and she still couldn’t even explain it to herself. It was all unbelievably horrifying, and any time she tried to be honest about it, people ended up disbelieving or horrified. Shocker.

Maybe, though, it wouldn’t be weird to talk about it with Mika. Mika already knew the worst. Beth didn’t have to hide that hurt from her to keep from shaking her world, or to keep her dismissal from hurting Beth. Maybe that’s what was hurting the most: the feeling that even after escaping, she still had to pretend to be okay. That compulsive stifling feeling choked her whenever it bubbled back up. On her bad days, a simple “how are you?” could reduce her to a blank face plastered over a raw tangle of emotions held motionless her own iron grip.

But Mika mentioned having bad days, too. Days came where she was too scared and nightmare-weary to do anything but make herself some tea and soak up some sunlight in the safety of home. Beth could casually say things like after those two months, i still twitch every time i hear a door open, and i wish my body would quit feeling like it doesn’t exist, my legs feel numb. It barely broke the surface of what it was like in her head, but was discomfiting enough for people that she held her tongue at school.

Sometimes, Beth got tired of constantly thinking about all this shit and tried to lighten things up. On one comically disastrous occasion of cultural exchange, she liveblogged Mika her attempt at eating the infamous Scandinavian lutefisk, along with an audio recording of the incoherent horrified noises she made after tasting it. In return, she received a recording of someone, presumably Mika, laughing harder than she’d ever heard anyone laugh before. It made Beth smile. Not many things did, back then.

Slowly, as the formality fell away from their transcontinental conversations, their heavier stories seething below the surface seeped in. Beth had been in therapy long enough now to know that she couldn't just recklessly unload on people the way she did in counseling sessions. But a counselor couldn't always provide the same kind of unspoken solidarity that someone in the same boat could.

Bit by bit, slipped into the chats that were becoming a daily occurrence, they talked about monitors, about what the experiment had really all been for, why that both was and wasn’t important, and how they'd discovered they were a part of Project Leda. Putting words to the pain hurt, a lot. But the ability to lay out long-unspoken truths in front of each other, knowing they were believed in the way that only people who have shared something can, was a healing kind of pain instead of the festering one Beth had been living with.

The two of them had more in common than they'd thought, growing up a world apart. Beth's experience raised under the subconscious wariness of her father's hovering thumb felt a lot like what Mika described growing up largely isolated with her former guardian. But sometimes, whenever they realized that something they'd both thought was normal was pretty not, they got a good laugh out of it despite the weight of their pasts. Mika seemed somewhat accustomed to her normal being considered pretty weird, so she usually took the revelations in stride better than Beth did. Beth wouldn't find out for at least a year after meeting her that it was because of her Asperger's, since it was a topic Mika seemed quite sensitive about.

Mika explained it once, in a conversation full of long pauses on her part and watching the typing icon disappear and reappear on Beth’s. The way she put it, it just meant that her brain worked a bit differently than most people's, processing sounds and sights and all the information it took in at different speeds and with different emphases. The difference could turn everyday things like the sound of a refrigerator running into a splitting headache, or something as simple as the soft texture of her favorite jacket into a kind of bliss. That alternative way of processing also extended to things like words and emotions as well. Sometimes, it took her longer than the world was willing to wait to process them into something that made sense. It often made communication tricky, trying to compensate for the gap in mutual understanding with most people. The world and the people in it could be so overwhelming sometimes, so fast and bright and full of noise and uncertainty and bewilderingly arbitrary social conventions. But the biggest challenge was other people expecting her to do everything the same way they did, ignorant of the fact there were any ways to exist other than their own, and completely oblivious to the fact that she was already putting in at least twice as much effort to communicate with them as they were with her.

And yet, even coming from such a different perspective, Mika gets it. Beth says sometimes i dream of drowning and its not a nightmare and i wake up not knowing how to feel, and Mika says I still dream of burning and wake up not knowing which fires are real, and they both say yeah. And they sit there across the world from each other knowing these things, knowing that it doesn't fix anything. And yet, it does change something. Nothing's any better, really. But somehow, the knowledge that someone else understands makes it a little easier to bear.

And that's just it. Somehow, without ever even having seen her face, Mika sees Beth clearer than anyone. All of her, all the ugly parts she hides so that they can't hurt anyone, and all the good parts that she also hides so that nobody can hurt them or take them away from her. Mika sees all of that and then just tells Beth another story about the Northern Lights she sees on the regular. Apparently, in Finnish, they’re called "fox fires." Beth hardly ever sees the aurora, living relatively far south in a bright city. But her stories about life in the metropolis by the lake intrigue Mika as much as the tales of the twisting green lights do her. And Beth can talk about something lighter again while not having to pretend that the heaviness isn’t there, too, even while she’s just once more trying and failing to explain poutine. For her, the weight never really goes away. But the effort of pretending she’s not carrying it takes more out of her than the weight itself. Mika understands that.

Maybe that’s why Beth had talked it over with Mika first, even before her mom, when she was considering taking a gap year after she hopefully managed to finish her senior year of high school. (God, it was so hard to think about English or math or whatever when just that morning she’d woken from a nightmare about being back in a not-home house that she never escaped.) Beth's mom had been so unbelievably supportive of Beth's recovery, even while she herself was adjusting to the wrenching change in both of their lives. It was both inspiring and a little intimidating. If her mom managed to run a household and raise a daughter all on her own, even while trying to heal from her own trauma, how could Beth not do her utmost, too? She was grateful to be able to talk to Mika about it, to get a reality check from someone who both understood her situation intimately and didn't make Beth feel that pressure of expectation. In the end, Beth did decide to take a year or two off before considering college, and her mom was again nothing if not supportive. Beth figured, after this entire mess, she deserved some time to herself to work on sorting her shit out, and her mom agreed.

After graduating with reasonable if not flying colors, Beth worked a series of part-time and odd jobs that didn't stress her out too much, letting herself focus on her own healing. In between her mom's support, seeing a counselor regularly, and the security of having a friend she could really trust, Beth felt like she was making progress. Slow progress, sure, but progress, nonetheless. Considering that she had seventeen years' worth of lies to unbelieve and emotional trauma to finally acknowledge, Beth figured that there was only so much she could do in the three years she'd had.

Her days were still hard. Getting sleep and waking up and eating and even just existing were still so fucking hard sometimes, and it was horrible. Some days, the thinnest sheet trapped her in bed like it was a car pinning her down. It felt so stupid for such simple things to be so hard. But then her therapist would remind her that that’s what mental illness and trauma was, that this was what the wounds in her mind and heart made her feel like. And once in awhile, sun broke through the shadows, and she had a day that reminded her what an okay day felt like – that okay days existed. That more might.

Now, she’s here, lying in a bright living room so far from home, with her dearest friend in the next room. She’s comfortable, except for the knot in her neck from sleeping oddly on the couch. The soreness pales in comparison to the usual tensions that are so strangely absent. Beth can’t remember the last time she felt this okay. She’s not steeling herself to go to work. She’s not dreading the next conversation with her mother that goes quiet as they both remember awful things they don’t mention. She’s not bracing herself for the next time her brain runs rampant worrying about whether she’ll run into the subject of her restraining order somewhere in the city and have to wonder if he'll honor it.

None of that reaches her here. There’s something about this quiet little pocket of space. It’s overrun with a proliferation of potted plants, from the sprawling lacy-leafed monster in the corner, to the fern peeping out of the kitchen, to the vine cuttings spilling out of an oddly familiar leaf-shaped glass bottle on the sill. Sunlight streaks through leaves and windowpanes and across the colorful patchwork of rugs on the floor. In the midst of it all, Beth is held by a palpable aura of gentleness. It holds her so softly that she doesn't need to hold herself in. It's like the layer of caution that she always keeps wrapped between herself and the rest of the world has simply dissolved away. In this moment suspended in morning light, she is okay.

She feels safe.

The realization undoes something in her. She feels the tears starting, and she expects the taut tension of involuntary stifling that always comes with them to return. But it doesn’t. She lies still and soft on the couch with the water creeping over her cheeks, breath occasionally catching but flowing freely. She savors it in the quiet.

The soft thunk of an ill-fitted door opening breaks into her odd reverie. Mika’s up. Beth sniffs and scrubs at her eyes halfheartedly, but she can’t hide them right now and she doesn’t want to. Mika notices immediately, and comes trotting over with quiet steps, leaning forward all concern.

"Beth," she says softly. She shifts from foot to foot like a nervous cat, watching Beth with enormous eyes. Beth has never met anyone else with such an intense stare. Or maybe it's just the fact that Beth knows beyond all doubt that she's being looked at by somebody who really sees her in her entirety. It's like she's staring right into Beth's soul. But Mika was able to do that long before they saw each others' faces. They've shared so many thousands of words over screens and seas, so many emotions that have gone otherwise unspoken, so many too-early mornings and too-late nights on the fringes of each other's dawns and dusks.

“What’s wrong?”

Finally, a flash of that sick tension runs through Beth’s body. It’s been okay when Mika has asked that before, when it was just silent letters on a screen. But out loud, the question falls on her ears like every well-meaning inquiry she’s ever had to scramble to find an acceptable answer for. The strain begins to cinch tight around her again like coarse ropes across barely-healed skin, ready to compel her to replace the truth with something safer. Her arms and legs tied, she begins to freeze, railing against herself for tainting the softness, the safety of this place.

"Beth." Mika says again, softer but more urgent.

In the gap between thoughts created by hearing her name, Beth seizes the chance to redirect them to the present. She clings to the welling in the corners of her eyes, the warmth of the sun caressing her back. The leaves of trees whisper outside the third-floor window in a mild breeze. The brightness spills over the sill and across Mika’s asymmetrical, half-craggy face and lights up tufts of her short hair as she steps closer. The couch dips as Mika sits down next to her, tilting Beth toward her.

Without meeting her eyes, Mika lifts a hesitant hand that hovers in the air between them, uncertain yet reaching. Her gentle palm falls onto Beth's forearm as softly as a floating leaf. The fingers curl around Beth’s arm just below the wrist, firm but not tight. Comforting.

The softness surrounding Beth seeps back into her, saturating her. As the memory fades like a ripple into water, the tension slackens. But it leaves her shaky, with traces of a familiar ache in her neck muscles, one that goes deeper than the simple stiffness from the couch. She sucks in a few unsteady breaths while Mika gives her arm a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry,” Beth says in a small, awkward voice.

Mika tilts her head. “Why?”

“Uh, I didn’t mean to bring all – this mess, in here.” Beth rubs the back of her neck with her free hand. “It’s so... soft, and okay, and – I don’t wanna ruin it,” she says, trailing off into a mumble.

“Hey.” Mika moves her hand from Beth’s arm to her shoulder. When Beth looks at her, she’s looking right back. Mika's eyes dart down to the floor for a moment, but then return to hold Beth’s with deliberate steadiness. “It’s alright. It’s like this here because we wanted it to be safe to be messy. You’re not ruining anything.”

“... Oh.” She’s steadied by Mika’s fingers curling around her shoulder, by the tendrils of sunlight spreading across her head and back and arms. Mika’s voice is small but steady, and somehow it comes from the same throat that makes that huge pealing laugh. It’s so strange how they sound nothing alike. Until yesterday, Beth hadn’t heard her voice since the lutefisk incident. They’d mostly kept to text and pictures. It had seemed easier, the way it gave them both plenty time to think before they spoke through their different uncertainties. Beth was already planning her trip before they realized that they’d never actually called each other. By that point, it sounded like more fun to meet in person the old-fashioned way.

"I'll make you some tea." Mika abruptly stands and lets go of her. Beth is sad to lose the contact. She flits across the room toward the kitchen in her soft cotton pajama pants, complemented by yet another black graphic tee for yet another Scandinavian metal band Beth's never heard of. Or at least, she'd never heard of them before Mika, who has something to say about all of them, and now Beth knows more than she'll ever need to.

Mika moves in and out of view behind the half-wall that separates the little living room from the kitchen. The fronds of the fern on the counter make a green rustling as she brushes by them. It sends soft feathered shadows waving across the wall opposite the window. Beth hears the rush of water boiling out of sight, and soon sees steam rising from the mug that's being handed to her.

"It's hot," Mika says unnecessarily. She sits down next to her again, this time leaning into Beth with her arm. Beth’s glad for it.

"Have you ditched the bags and gone loose leaf?" Beth says, eyeing the fragments of bright green leaf free floating in her mug.

"It didn't come in a bag. It came from the window."

"The window?"

"It's basil tea. For the fear and pain. Five large fresh leaves in two hundred and fifty milliliters water. We grew it here."

Beth takes a cautious sip. It's surprisingly sweet, and the savory smell of the steam rising from it curls into her sinuses. The aching in her head and neck begin to relax. It's unfamiliar, but it feels like home should, just like everything else here.

"Thanks," Beth says. On an impulse of craving closeness, she leans her head onto Mika's shoulder with a sigh. The sensation of contact deepens as Mika leans against her, too.

Beth holds the cup close, fingers wrapping around its warmth. She takes another sip and gets a bit of leaf stuck in her teeth. The way she scrunches up her face trying to dislodge it pulls a tiny laugh out of Mika.

“You don’t have to be okay here,” Mika whispers. “You can just be. That’s what we do.”

Beth finds her eyes wet again, but she smiles while she sets her mug down and wipes them away. “Kinda already wish I could stay here,” she says with a chuckle.

“... That’s probably not impossible.”

“Really?” Beth asks wryly. “Not even twenty-four hours, and you’d already be willing to put up with me?”

“Twenty-four hours and twenty-seven months.”

Beth melts a little even while waving the idea aside. “I wasn’t serious.”

“I know, but... weren’t you looking at the school here?”

“I mean, yeah, but... really, my mom just thought I deserved a break to get away for a little while. She’d saved up a bit, and I didn’t want to make it a big deal or anything, but she really wanted me to. She knew I wanted to come see you. Checking out the school was mostly an excuse. I know it’s a great place, but... I don’t really think it’ll help with what I wanna do.”

“What do you want to do?”

Beth sighs and leans back, looking at the ceiling. Mika follows her so that they’re still shoulder to shoulder, and pulls her feet up to tuck them in cross-legged.

She flounders for a moment, trying to find where to begin. She hasn’t told anyone this yet.

“This Leda crap has been kind of awful, right? It’s screwed so many of us up. But there’s only, what, a few hundred of us? And that’s not the only reason things get messed up.” She swallows. Her eyes trace irregularities in the ceiling: a knot in an exposed wooden beam here, a sealed and repainted crack there. “Kids like me are a dime a dozen. There’s so many people out there going through hell, just because they got stuck with people who are hurting so much that they hurt other people. And then they go on and hurt more people. It’s a cycle that’s really fucking hard to break.”

Breaths that have become harsh force her to pause and let them lengthen again. A touch on her knee draws her eyes down to a hand resting on it palm up, offering. Beth takes it. Mika squeezes her fingers in reassurance.

“When I was little, I wanted to be a cop like my dad, did you know that?” Mika, eyes wide, shakes her head. “Yeah. That was always my plan. I used to think he was so brave. Wanted to be just like him.” She shudders. Mika grips her hand, steady. “Even if I could do it better than he did, the system is still full of people like him. It’s broken. I couldn’t – I can’t end up like that. I can’t keep being a part of this shit. I want to actually help people.

“I never thought about it before I met you, but the people you brought in to do therapy programs and all for CYGNet? They’re amazing. The stuff I’ve gotten from them has helped me so much. And I don’t know what I’d do without my regular therapist. These people really help people like me. Like all of us. Those are the kind of people I wanna be like.”

Beth’s voice drops and becomes small and secretive, but firm. “I’ve been looking at the social work programs at home. There’s some really good ones at the uni near where mom and I live now. And that’s the city where I grew up. I know how things work there. I know it won’t be easy, but. I could really... do stuff.”

Silence stretches. Beth looks at Mika, only to be completely thrown off by an expression she can’t make heads or tails of. “What?”

Mika’s face is blank yet soft, only barely hinting at her thoughts in the faintest crinkling of her eyes. It’s funny, how quiet her face is most of the time. Beth never would have guessed, going off her online impressions of her. Mika’s so expressive and eloquent with her written words. In person, she is much more subtle. But even after only a day spent around her, Beth is already starting to see how her movements speak volumes in a language of their own. The flickering of her hands flares to life with excitement. The casual shake of her head tosses her hair out of her eyes even when it’s not in the way, like she’s clearing the slate of her mind. And much like Beth these days, she goes very still and tense when she’s getting uncomfortable or overwhelmed, the way she did after a particularly loud whistle at the train station. It shows in her shoulders. They’re soft now though, and she just watches Beth and squeezes her hand once more.

“You’re really amazing, you know,” Mika says.

“Wh- huh?”

“Well.” She looks away and turns their hands over, but doesn’t let go. “After the awful things you’ve been through – nnnh! Don’t pretend,” she says, looking back sharply as Beth begins to protest that she didn’t have it that bad. Mika knows her so well. Beth can’t help but laugh a little. “After all that, you just want to help people. All I ever want to do is get away from them, most of the time.”

Beth quirks a brow at her with a bemused grin. “Really? Because setting up and running an organization that provides mental health resources and extremely important information to a few hundred people is a really shit way to not help people.”

“I never talk to most of them! And CYGNet only has one hundred and thirteen members, not hundreds.”

Beth rolls her eyes with an exaggerated motion. “Yeah, so, you’ve somehow convinced, what, a whole freaking third of a huge group of scared strangers to trust you?”

“A lot of that was Niki and the press team, she’s way better at talking to people th–”

“And you’ve been careful enough and clever enough to keep them and all the information you got from DYAD safe and secure? I can’t even imagine the organization and, and cyber-security and whatever the hell else you put into all this. That you still put in. And look what you’ve done. You’re helping so many people. You found something only you could do, and do it really damn well.”

Mika looks down into her lap, half her face flushed. The raised ridges and swirls of the scarred side are pink, but not as dark. Her shoulders curl in a little, but she doesn’t pull her hand away from Beth’s. If anything, she holds on a little tighter.

“You don’t have to like talking to people to help them. You don’t have to be someone you’re not,” Beth says gently, then pauses as a new thought occurs to her. “Why did you talk to me?”

Mika gives a tiny shrug, eyes still downcast. “You reached out to me. Most people are scared, or suspicious, or hard to talk to, but you were just... honest. You told me exactly what you needed, even if that meant sharing your painful secrets with a stranger. I...” She trails off, looking toward the closed door of Niki’s bedroom. She blinks slowly.

“It reminded me of something Niki said a long time ago. When we first met. We didn’t trust each other at first. But when things got bad, we needed to, and she just... We’d only known each other for a day. She told me a true story that people had called her crazy for, and trusted me to believe her. And when I told her about... my Asperger’s, about being autistic, she just told me something about herself, too, another thing that a lot of people get cruel about when they know. This was back before she came out, too. She was hardly out to herself, then, really. But she told me anyway. ‘Secret for a secret,’ she said.”

“She’s really special to you.” It’s not a question. How could it be, with the sheer softness of love rounding out every syllable and making Mika melt into the couch and into Beth’s shoulder.

“She’s... yes. She’s my family.” Mika looks out the window, and the bright light dances over her nose. “I don’t remember ever having one.”

Beth slings an arm around Mika’s shoulders and smiles as she curls closer into Beth’s side. “Looks like you’re part of a pretty big one, now,” she says, waving a hand at the dozens of photos on the walls circling them.

“I guess so.”

“No need to guess. The evidence is right there. And I’m right here.”

Mika turns those huge eyes on her again. She’s done that multiple times now, even though Beth knows she rarely looks people in the eye. Eye contact is too much, most of the time. She describes it as too intense, too distracting, too intimate. Meeting those eyes – so like Beth’s own, but filled with such a different kind of light – Beth thinks she understands a glimmer of it. If every eye she met were as overwhelmingly expressive as Mika’s, Beth probably wouldn’t meet them all either. It keeps taking her by surprise, coming across their eloquence in an otherwise quiet face. Caught by that gaze, every emotion that lives in it touches Beth. Right now, it’s soft with adoration but shaded with a gradient of doubt. The width and depth of Mika’s eyes reveal a clear view of a vulnerable, aching, healing heart that spent eleven years starving for the love it needs and still hasn’t forgotten the famine.

It might be breaking Beth’s heart. No wonder Niki is always showering her with hugs and kind words and gentle hands on rounded shoulders. Maybe one of these days, Mika will have spent long enough finally getting to soak up all that affection that she won’t look at Beth like this when she says the simple truth.

“Hey. Here I am. Really.” Beth’s voice is a little choked up. She pulls Mika into a proper hug with both arms. Mika squeaks in surprise at being squeezed so emphatically, but returns it all the same. God, but she gives the best hugs of anyone Beth’s ever met. All contact and even, firm pressure and steadiness. “It’s so damn good to see you. I can’t believe you’re...” real, Beth thinks but doesn’t say. I can’t believe I didn’t imagine you. I can’t believe you’re just as kind as your words. I can’t believe how good it feels to be around you. “I can’t believe I’m really here.”

Mika doesn’t say anything. For a moment, one of her hands leaves Beth’s back to fiddle with something, then comes back to give her a little squeeze that Beth returns.

Beth’s phone buzzes a notification behind her on the little glass-top table next to the couch. The table’s wooden base is a round blob carved into the shape of a very fluffy and very ugly sheep with curly horns. Beth’s arms loosen from their embrace as she turns to look at it, bemused. No one but Mika really messages her except for her mom. But if it’s morning here, it’s about time for bed at home. She checks it, just to be sure she’s okay.

But it’s not from her mom.

Mika reaches out to gently grasp her forearm again as Beth shoots her a quizzical look and opens the message.

3mika: I'm glad you're here.

Beth's heart quails.

To think, that her darker days might have kept her from ever being in this moment. Beth might never have gotten to this point, hurt but healing and here. Here, she's seven time zones and an ocean away from the cycle of pain she grew up in, barely aware she needed to escape. She might well feel safer right here in this crossroads of time and place than she has at any other in her entire life. It's a realization that's as humbling as it is nourishing.

Already, the distance this journey has taken her has given her so much perspective. She wasn’t sure, before, whether the work she’s been considering was just a response to what she’s been through – or just a way for the cycle to keep her within its spiral. But she’s seen what Mika can do, what Beth could do one day, if she keeps on.

It won’t be easy. She’ll go back, and deep-seated memories will try to drag her back into small dark places. But being here, even for only a few hours, has already changed her. She can change, and she can grow, and she is already tapping into new strengths that her past has yet to reckon with. She is here, right now, in spite of all of it. And today is not a dark day.

“Me too, Mika. I’m glad to be here, too.” Beth’s tongue stumbles over the name, because she’s never said it out loud before, only read it on a screen.

Surprise sends Mika’s eyebrows up and her eyes wide again, like she’s never heard it before, either. Maybe she hasn’t. She tilts her head again like a question, touching her ear and looking at Beth.

Beth grins. “Mika.” A smile blooms on that curious face, lighting it up. She’s the one who pulls Beth into a hug this time, and it’s both fierce and soft. When she lets go, she leans into Beth’s side again and they stay like that, arms over shoulders and comfortably curled up together, soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence like leaves drink in light. The simple sweetness and companionship of it soothes Beth’s heart, seeking its way into the aching crevices. It’s an odd feeling, both seeping inward and flowing outward, trickling all the way through her until it warms her cold toes in a way that feels both new and strangely familiar.

A long, sleepy yawn announces that Niki’s awake now, too. Soon, she comes out of her room stretching her arms over her head. Mika reaches a hand out toward her to wave in greeting, though she leaves the other arm draped over Beth’s shoulders. Niki smiles at them. That kind smile, too, adds to the warmth washing through Beth. Her feet practically itch with it, and with a growing sensation of déja vu. She fidgets her toes against the floor as Niki walks over to brush Mika’s outstretched hand like a touchstone.

“How'd you sleep? Isn’t that couch the comfiest?” she says to Beth.

“Well, I’ve got a crick in my neck, but I still slept better than I have in years.”

Niki turns her sunny smile on Beth. “Good to hear it. Weird, though, I nap there all the time and my neck’s always fine. Huh. Anyway, I think I might make waffles. You two want some breakfast?”

Mika nods, but doesn’t let go of Beth yet. Beth is lost in thought, trying to remember what that light, floating feeling in her feet reminds her of.

“Sweet.” Niki ambles toward the kitchen and bends down with pursed lips to peer at the fern perched on the counter. “Hmm. You still look a little pale. Let’s get you some more sun.” She brings the plant over to the living room and is fussing over settling it on the sheep table when it clicks for Beth. A physical memory washes over her, for once welcome. She lets it fill her, refreshing like a deep breath of cold morning air her lungs are suddenly hungry for. She flexes her calves and ankles, her legs remembering the joy and freedom of stride and strike. Her bones are finally recalling how they once carried her with ease, even while they're adjusting to the new weight of who she's become. Fully alive again for at least this moment, her soles are practically prickling with the desire to eat up ground.

“How about you, Beth? Do you like waffles?” Niki asks, fluffing the fern’s crinkly green leaves. Mika squeezes her shoulder.

Beth grins and plants steady feet on the blue rug in front of the couch. “Save a few for me? I think I might actually go for a run first.”

#orphan black #clone club #veera suominen #beth childs #niki lintula #mk ob #mika ob #herbs on the windowsill au #lizzie taking up space #lizzie's adventures in writing #welcome back yall #long post #fic #ob fic #that a garden will grow

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naberiie · 6 years

Text

penumbra.

arc trooper fives/handmaiden rabé; umbara au; 6.6k. for @yazminkhaan (I’m so sorry this is so late, I hope some angst makes up for my poor planning and time management skills)💗💗💗

“There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights...”

[CT-6116] have I gone mad,

[CT-6116] or

[CT-6116] am I watching a civvie craft touch down right now?

[CT-5597] wtf

[CT-5597] can’t be, all civvies were evacuated

[CT-6116] there’s a ship landing and it’s not GAR-issue

[CT-5597] which landing bay

[CT-6116] bay 3

[CT-5597] u sure it’s not supplies or smth

[CT-6116] FUCK me

[CT-6116] no, it’s Definitely not

[CT-5597] ???

[CT-6116] I’m switching to the main channel

[CT-5597] ur talking like a jedi rn

[CT-5597] ugh

[CT-7567] Tup, Dogma, General Krell wants that breach filled and repaired by mid-afternoon.

[CT-5385] Yes sir

[CT-5385] Sir?

[CT-7567] Go ahead, Tup.

[CT-5385] Will the cease-fire last long?

[CT-7567] General isn’t optimistic, which is why we need to get that breach repaired ASAP.

[CT-3219] Yes, sir.

[CT-6116] HEY where’s fives?

[CT-7567] Not here, Kix.

[CT-5597] probably getting yelled at again

[CT-6116] @CT-27-5555 WHERE ARE YOU

[CT-7567] Take it to a private channel, Kix!

[CT-6116] FIVES GET IN HERE

[CT-8694] wtf kix

[CT-6116] ARC TROOPER FIVES

[CT-5597] kix is refusing to tell me what’s going on

[CT-27-5555] fucking WHAT

[CT-5597] where u getting yelled at again

[CT-27-5555] shut up

[CT-27-5555] WHAT, kix

[CT-6116] rabé

[CT-27-5555] you can’t steal my girlfriend, kix

[CT-8694] lmfao

[CT-6116] she’s Here

[CT-27-5555] ..what?

[CT-7567] What are you talking about??

[CT-27-5555] what do you mean “she’s here”

[CT-6116] I mean I’m watching her Disembark

[CT-6116] right now

[CT-5597] what the fuck

[CT-6116] she’s getting off of a ship right now

[CT-8694] what the hell

[CT-5597] that was her ship???

[CT-27-5555] kix I swear to gods I am going to knock your lights out

[CT-7567] Watch it.

[CT-27-5555] this isn’t funny

[CT-6116] landing bay 3

[CT-27-5555] her assignment is halfway across the fucking galaxy right now kix what the HELL are you talking about

[CT-6116] LANDING. BAY. THREE.

[CT-6116] She’s

[CT-6116] The others are here, too

[CT-6116] Sabé just

[CT-6116] She just greeted the General

[CT-6116] He knew they were coming

[CT-5597] hey what the entire fuck is going on

[CT-8694] weird fuckin joke, kix

[CT-6116] Shut up Hardcase

[CT-6116] I’m Not lying

[CT-27-5555] why is she here

[CT-27-5555] kix you had BETTER be lying to me

[CT-27-5555] she can’t be here

[CT-27-5555] she CANNOT be here

[CT-27-5555] this is a live warzone she can’t be here

[CT-7567] Sounds like you need to get to landing bay 3, Fives.

[CT-27-5555] fucking hells

[CT-27-5555] she can’t be here

[CT-8694] …

[CT-8694] would the general have called them in

[CT-8694] for the ceasefire negotiations

[CT-5597] that’s

[CT-5597] why /them?/

[CT-8694] he doesn’t like fives

[CT-8694] does he know abt him and rabé?

[CT-7567] Enough speculating.

[CT-5597] did you know abt this??

[CT-7567] No. I’m going to the landing bay as well. If anything, the handmaidens will have a clear assignment; they’ll know what’s going on.

[CT-7567] Dogma, Tup. Get started on that repairing that breach.

[CT-3219] Yes, sir.

[INCOMING MEMO - - ALL TROOPS - - TOP PRIORITY - - GENERAL KRELL]

The Umbaran militia have been backed into a corner and have agreed to negotiate a ceasefire, on the condition that the Republic send ambassadors not currently engaged in the conflict.

Three negotiators have arrived, and will be escorted by a small retinue of clones into the demilitarized zone tomorrow for negotiations.

CT-7567 will assign troopers to the escort.

[END MEMO]

[CT-5597] all the fucking hells

[CT-6116] I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

Kix caught him just before he careened around the corner to the landing bay. “General’s talking to them now.” The underlying words don’t go pick a fight were perfectly clear, but Fives was seeing red and he was not in the mood to listen.

He’d seen the memo just as he’d seen the ship.

Their ship.

Her ship.

A part of him had howled in fury at seeing the sleek chrome craft reflecting the thick neon of the bioluminescent flora that shimmered at the edge of the compound, but his mouth was filled with bitter dread. Wake up, wake up, wake up, trooper.

It was out of place on this blood-soaked planet, that elegant craft. Warm light spilled from the interior, and – sure enough – tiny Sabé was speaking to the General, who towered over her. Fives glanced to Kix and knew that both of them wanted to do nothing more than to scream at the women to get back in their ship, to fly away and not look back. Eirtaé was listening to the conversation with an impassive face, the neon dancing on her pale skin, her bright blonde hair, and right behind her –

“Keep it together, Fives-”

“She shouldn’t be here-”

“Why are they here-”

-Rabé only had eyes for him.

“Kix,” and then his throat closed around the words that he couldn’t bring himself to say. He knew the handmaidens were trained, well trained, he knew that they could handle themselves in any situation the galaxy could through at them – but a rogue Jedi, a Jedi gone mad with power and bloodlust?

A Jedi who hated clones?

“I know, Fives – but you can’t, you cannot just march up to them, think this through before you do anything stupid and get yourself killed-”

Krell shifted and both troopers froze, tensed like womp-rats. Rabé was still looking at them but now her eyebrows had knit together in concern – Kix holding Fives back, Fives frozen in utter terror – and she cocked her head. Fives’ heart stuttered at the sight, he hated the fact that he couldn’t explain anything to her, not with the General right there, he hated that he was hurting her, even a little. Eirtaé had spotted them now, too, her face impassive as her sharp ice eyes bored into Fives.

Like she sensed something was wrong.

Fives twisted his arm out of Kix’s grip and quickly signed – clumsily, he wasn’t as used to the Nabooian sign language – danger. On guard.

Eirtaé did not react, except for a slight narrowing of her eyes. Rabé had come to join the conversation with the General now, and none of the women reacted to what he’d signed. He wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that not even their heartbeats had changed, had registered surprise or tension or confusion. Rabé crossed her arms and her fingers moved quickly on her forearm, mirroring his own sign but far more gracefully: on guard, understood.

They didn’t know what he was referring to, but the trust was immediate.

The General knew Kix and Fives were there, of course. There was no doubt in Fives’ mind – and before they could do anything more, Krell called out behind him, “Captain Rex, I’d like to speak with you.”

Fives turned, caught Rex’s eye as he too rounded the corner, and continued on without a word, without stopping until he stood before the handmaidens. Sabé gave him a tight smile in greeting, but the other two were impassive – what Rabé called their handmaiden masks slid firmly into place. Not a thought, not an emotion, leaked out from behind that marble-like façade. He’d warned them, but they didn’t know the danger was right in front of them.

Kix was motionless besides him. They both watched, tense, as the conversation flowed quickly between the captains and the General. Fives hardly dared breathe – but he couldn’t hear anything besides the low rumble of Krell’s voice.

Rabé’s eyes kept finding Fives’.

Run, run, run far away.

“You wanted to see me, General?”

Fives hoped he could sense the absolute loathing around each of the words. He aimed them like blast shots; the words polite, but the tone cold and furious. Krell had purposefully kept him busy, purposefully had him running circles around the base so that he couldn’t talk to Rabé. Toying with them both like a cat with a mouse.

And, with a burning guilt, Fives had realized he’d been almost grateful, for the excuses.

He knew what he had to do, but he absolutely did not have the strength to do it.

“Yes. I heard you made a request to be a part of the escort team for our negotiators.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve worked with the handmaidens before. They know me.”

“Hmph.” Krell glanced over his shoulder and the look in his eyes made the hairs on the back of Fives’ neck stand on end. “That’s one way to put it, isn’t it.”

He stepped aside, and Fives found himself staring at a holo of Rabé.

His stomach dropped to the core of this blood-soaked planet, and his skin went cold.

“I’ve been doing some reading, ARC-5555. When General Kenobi sent his recommendations for a team of negotiators, I made sure to read through their files so as to pick the most skilled, the ones best under pressure. These women stood out. I noticed the notation of their work on Alderaan; it overlapped with yours.” Krell lazily flicked his hand, and now Fives was staring at his own file, and immediately he knew how his worst nightmare had come to pass. “A fascinating request on your file, ARC. ‘If KIA: bequeath helmet, armor, and gear to one Rabé Bhutia of Naboo.’”

Fives swallowed thickly as Krell went on, “A clone with a will, even though your armor technically belongs to the Republic and would probably be left wherever you die. Who would do this for you? Who would go through the effort of picking up the armor and sending it to this… Rabé?”

Fives’ skin crawled when the monster dared utter her name. “General Skywalker and Captain Rex have given me their word, sir.” His voice was thick, full of dread, and Krell smiled.

It was silent in the room as they coldly regarded the other. Fives – in a moment of bliss, dazed from her kisses and touches and sunlit warmth – had made the notation in his file. He’d wanted her to have his things, should the war swallow him whole. He wanted to give her something to remember him by. He hadn’t told her about the notation, and now… and now Krell had called her, the other handmaidens, to this place of death.

He wanted to turn around and run, run until he found them, tell them to go away, go far away, the General plays with lives like their nothing and now I’ve given him more ammunition than he knows what to do with, it’s a game to him, we don’t mean anything, he plays with our pain-

“You are not to go on the escort team.”

Fives’ head went numb. “What?”

“You’re not to go. You are too close to one of the negotiators. You’re staying here, clone.”

“General, please reconsider-”

“And that’s my final order, ARC-5555.”

The words curdled in his throat as Krell flicked back to Rabé’s file. Krell folded two of his arms behind his back and stroked his chin with a third as he stared at it, took in her many accomplishments. “I find this… relationship you have with her amusing.”

Fives bit down so hard on his tongue he tasted blood.

“You’re just a petty amusement for her. A way to pass the time. Don’t you realize that? Sooner or later she’ll tire of you. She’ll leave and find someone… whole.”

“Whole.” Fives repeated bitterly, almost wanting to spit blood at the General’s feet.

“You’re just a clone, after all. It’s only a matter of time before she grows tired. Casts you aside.” Krell’s grin grew sharper, and Fives wanted nothing more than to tear it off of his face, “But I think you already knew that on some level, didn’t you, clone?”

Yes.

“No, sir.” His hands shook, so he clasped them behind his back. “And – if I may speak openly – it’s none of your business.”

Krell blinked in what could almost pass for surprise – and then he chuckled. “That’s where you are absolutely wrong, clone.” He turned back to the projector, to Rabé’s datafile. “You’re not to go on the escort team. That’s final. Dismissed.”

For a brief moment Fives let himself revel in the fantasy of the forbidden: his blasters lay heavy against his hips, his hands twitched and ached and strained towards that cold deadly weapon – he let himself picture it, hear the sharp shots as they found their target, hear the heavy thud of a lifeless body falling to the floor – and then it passed.

He would not commit treason this day.

He turned, anger still thick in his blood, and punched the buttons on his comm until Rex answered. If he couldn’t go with the handmaidens, he’d have a hand in picking the escort team, even if he had to strongarm his way there.

He could hear the hum of the projector booth all the long way down the hall, and wondered if he’d be able to fly back there and destroy it so that Krell wouldn’t be able to look at her. It made him sick to think of it.

He couldn’t hide from her forever – not that he wanted to, not that he relished any part of this. She found him in the empty dark mess, when all of his brothers were asleep or on duty.

Her smile, when she saw him, was bright enough to sear his heart.

He desperately wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

“There you are!”

Before he could stop her, warn her, she practically threw herself at him and his arms caught of her their own accord, he bent down and kissed her warmly, deeply – a goodbye, as well as a long-dreamt of there you are. He knew it was crueler, this way, but he couldn’t help himself around her; his sunspot.

When he pulled back her cheeks were flushed like deep rich wine, hair a little tousled from where his hands and fingers had twined themselves, breath catching in her lungs. He stared down at her, mournful, as she caught her breath. His thumb traced over her bottom lip and she smiled – so he bent to kiss her again. Softly, softly.

You have to push her away.

He wondered if she could taste the blood on his lips.

“Ah – ha – Rex said you’d be in here,” she finally said when he came up for air, tracing and memorizing her hands in his, her body pressed against his armor. Despite himself, despite knowing what he must soon do, he smiled fondly at her. Traced the muscles of her arms, her back, through the thick warm fabric of her battlerobes. “I’ve missed you.”

Her smile was so beautiful as to break his heart. He looked down at her hands, ran his thumbs over the back of her hands. “I’ve missed you so much, sunspot.”

Rabé beamed and pressed herself up on her toes, cupping his face in her hands. Her eyes flickered, her thumb ran under one of his eyes, “You’re exhausted… My poor ARC…”

He exhaled, let himself relax into her touch. He could spare a few minutes of peace, couldn’t he? Just a few moments more of quiet love. “Mhm. It’s been…” but the words wouldn’t come. Already, already, the pain of the last few days had seared themselves onto his brain. Even glancing at those marks, those burned memories, made his blood run cold.

“My darling…” she whispered, and wrapped her arms around his neck, her voice dropping to that low register than made him shiver with delight, “The warning, at the landing bay – what’s happened? How can I help?”

Face buried in her shoulder, he shook his head. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart, trying to memorize the feel of her, the warmth of her. He shook his head again and picked his head up to look at her, quietly. After a moment, he finally said, “…You shouldn’t be here.”

She made a little face, “Aw, that’s not quite the reaction I wanted,” her large eyes dark and deep enough to wrap him in comfort, as her hands went to cup his face – and when he grabbed them, when he moved them away, the playful flirtatiousness was replaced almost immediately with concern. With fear. Her eyebrows knit together and his heart seized at the look she gave him – but he had no choice. He had to reject her. He couldn’t risk Krell getting any more ammunition than he already had.

“Fives…?”

He shook his head and – damn the tears, they were pooling under his eyelids and he wanted nothing more than to sag forward into her embrace, to let her kiss his hands and scars and to hold the pain at bay. He wanted to tell her everything but Krell was a damned Jedi and who knew how much he could see, how much he could hear. So Fives shook his head again and murmured again, his voice broken even to his own ears, “You shouldn’t be here.”

He had to physically resist the urge to cup her cheeks, to run his hands through her hair, to pull her close and bury his face in her neck.

All he wanted was to hold her, to be held by her.

But he took a step back.

When he stepped away from her, the confused pain on her face mirrored the pain in every atom of his being. “It’s all a trap. The General… you shouldn’t be here. He hates us. Wants to kill us all.”

That was the first time he’d thought it, but as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth he knew them to be absolutely true.

“But – he’s a Jedi, why would he-”

“Sunspot, something’s rotten in him. It’s sick and twisted, like some rotten disease. He doesn’t think we’re… he doesn’t treat us like men. He marches us into death traps, doesn’t care how many we lose…” He raised his eyes and started to reach for her but stopped himself. He dropped his hand and Rabé’s expression pained him to his core. He whispered, “He hates me, sunspot. He’s gonna try and kill me.”

Rabé sucked in a horrified gasp. Her eyes hardened. “I’d like to see him try.”

The thought of Rabé marching up to Krell – it filled Fives with a deep terror, it overpowered the fierce adoration and love at her ferocious instinct to protect him. Krell could kill her without a second thought.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and her hands slipping around his back to support him, to guide him to the table. “Fives, I was – it was a joke, I wasn’t serious…”

“Don’t.” He shook her hands away. “Don’t say that… don’t.”

She stopped, and a heartbeat later her hands curled together in front of her chest. Tears in her own eyes, like his.

“It’s safer for you if you don’t… if you don’t…” He swallowed thickly, hands balled into fists on his legs, “Stay away from me.”

“Fives-”

“I’m serious. I’m serious. Stay away from me. You should – you need to leave.”

She blinked, and the tears slipped down over her cheeks and he had to close his eyes, look away. Coward, a voice in his head whispered, and to his horror – it sounded like Krell. “Leave, Rabé.”

“We haven’t seen each other in three weeks.” Her voice shook and every part of Fives’ body and mind and soul screamed for him to go to her, but he stayed still. Every muscle coiled in on itself, almost shaking in the effort to maintain the distance he’d fought for so long to close. “We haven’t seen each other for three weeks and now you don’t want to see me?”

Not that. It’s not that. “If he sees you with me – he might hurt you.”

“What if he hurts you?”

Only now did Fives open his eyes to find hers. She was maintaining the distance between them, but just barely. Her hands shook and the tears coursing down her cheeks made his heart seize in pain. “He already has, sunspot,” he murmured softly. “He’s put my brothers in danger and now he’s put you in danger.”

He left out the threats.

“Then let me help you, let me support you-”

“He doesn’t call us by our names, Rabé. Krell calls us by our numbers, and sends us into meatgrinders. That bottleneck out there?” He gestured with his chin towards that horrible place and shuddered as echoes of the screams drifted through his mind, “He sent us marching in columns through that. We had to leave so many behind…”

His words choked off into silence, and now he saw the dawning horror in her face as his words sunk in, and he went on in a heavy, sullen voice that did not sound like his own, “He doesn’t call us by our names, only our numbers. And I’ve looked at his files. He has one of the worst casualty rates in the entire fucking GAR and he absolutely hates me.”

I might not make it off this rock alive.

Her face contorted, like she’d heard the thought as clear as day, and the tears poured anew down her cheeks.

“You’ll be safer if you don’t… if we don’t… if we don’t interact.”

“I might be – and I don’t care-”

“Rabé! It’s for your safety, and mine, too.” When she didn’t speak, or even move to wipe her eyes, he went on, “Krell holds all the power here. I… I don’t know how to protect you from that.”

“You wish I wasn’t here.”

Fives closed his eyes, and nodded. After the first march under Krell’s orders, he’d let himself dream of her, of their grotto on Naboo. He’d tried to drown out the sounds of death with memories of her laugh.

But now she was here, and Fives wished that she was anywhere else but by his side.

It was utterly silent in the mess but Fives knew they were not alone. He felt like he was being watched, so he turned away from her and muttered, “Go away, Rabé.”

“…please, Fives-”

“Go.”

He was reminded of another dark room, another horrible conversation that had sliced him to his core.

His head was muddled, his heart heavy and pounding in his ears as he waited for her to leave-

“I love you, Fives.”

Rabé…

She whispered it, but it was like she’d pulled her blaster on him and shot him, point-blank, in the heart. He shut his eyes as the words settled onto his skin like a kiss, as it burned like embers on the underside of his eyelids. She didn’t know, couldn’t have known – Fives didn’t need as much sleep as she did, so on the rare nights they’d had together he would hold her close, watch her sleep, whisper I love you I love you I love you I love you in all the languages he knew, whispering the words across the warm bare skin of her shoulders, whisper it into her thick hair as she slept soundly in his arms or trace the words in the small of her back – she couldn’t have known.

His heart ached in his chest and every fiber of his being begged him to turn around, to wrap his hands around her, pull her close, Fives she loves you, she LOVES you, FIVES-

“I do.” And then he heard the gentle swish of her heavy battlerobes – and she was gone.

The door slid shut behind her and Fives fell to his knees, the plastoid cracking hard against the duracrete and his entire body lurched with brutal, horrible regret, a burning sharp pain that lanced through every single one of his nerves.

I love you.

His hands clenched into fists on the cold floor, teeth gritting together as the pain flooded his body and hot tears dripped onto the back of his hands.

She loves you.

What have you done?

She kept her word.

Fives could have almost convinced himself he’d dreamed the whole horrible ordeal – had it not been for the sleek chrome ship still oh-so-innocently docked in landing bay three.

He had told her to stay away, and she did.

[CT-6116] Fives

[CT-6116] They’re leaving soon

[CT-6116] ETD 30 minutes

[CT-6116 ] …Fives?

[CT-27-5555] i saw

[CT-6116] OK

[CT-6116] Did you two have a fight, or something?

[CT-27-5555] no

[CT-27-5555] but i don’t want to talk abt it

[CT-27-5555] just leave it alone, kix

[CT-6116] …OK

Fives felt Rex’s eyes on him as he stepped out for the morning’s drills, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, focused instead on the bite of the strange dense Umbara soil on the palms of his hands, the way the richly oxygenated air filled his lungs – focused on anything except the absence of the troopers assigned escort duty.

The air was sharp and heavy with fear, with anticipation. If the negotiations worked, if the handma…. If the negotiators were successful, they could leave, leave this bioluminescent hellhole behind.

If they failed…

Fives bit down on his tongue until the pain swallowed that particular thought. Exhaustion tugged at the corners of his eyes but still he pushed himself, running the sets again and again and again until his muscles shrieked with pain, his lungs desperate, seizing like they were drowning, for a rest.

“Fives.”

Drops of sweat landed between his feet, disappearing almost immediately into the black Umbaran soil. He made his face impassive as he straightened. “Captain.”

The bags under Rex’s eyes had gotten darker, almost as if the strange neon lights of this world had woven together to fashion a cloak made of pain to drape over the Captain’s shoulders. Still he stood tall, unperturbed by the ghosts clinging to his pauldron. His mouth was set in a thin line – something natborns could never understand was the strangeness of your own face following you around wherever you went, your eyes and your lips and your voice calling for you, ordering you, laughing with you, crying with you, cursing with you.

Rex simply looked at him, and Fives’ temper started to tick. “How can I help you, Captain?”

“What happened?”

The words bristled over Fives’ skin like burs, even though Rex asked with no judgment – only a weary concern. “That’s none of your business.”

“It absolutely is, since you seem hell-bent on running yourself into an early grave and angering two-thirds of our negotiating party.”

Sabé and Eirtaé would be out for his blood, after what he did to Rabé. “It would be better if she didn’t hang around me too much.” Dead man walking.

Rex’s features twisted in confusion. “She knows what being a soldier entails. I don’t think much here would shock her.”

Another tick. “That’s not what I meant.”

Rex truly was exhausted, because Fives very clearly saw the flash of anger, of exasperation, in his eyes. “Then what?”

“They shouldn’t be here, Rex.” And when Rex sighed, brought a hand to rub his eyes, the temper started to burn in Fives’ belly. “Something’s not right – negotiations? They still hold the capital city! They slaughtered us, not forty-eight hours ago – and now all of a sudden, General says the Umbarans want to negotiate? There’s no logic to that!”

“It’s a small civilian militia, it’s not totally impossible that they’ve run themselves down.” But Fives saw the flicker of doubt in Rex’s dark eyes.

“The sooner the handmaidens are gone, the better – before the Umbarans get their shit together and bomb the hell out of this place!”

“So you thought that pushing Rabé away was the best course of action?”

“If it gets them out of here faster, then yes!”

“Fives, you cannot simply pretend that the handmaidens aren’t here! You cannot pretend that she isn’t here! She is – and trust me, I completely agree with you that calling them here was an irrational mistake-”

“Mistake?” For the first time since Skywalker had left, for the first time in what felt like months, Fives laughed – a short, bitter, hard laugh. “A mistake – Rex, are you fucking blind-”

“Watch it, trooper,” Rex snarled, but it was too late, Fives had been wound up and now the anger, the pain of the last day came roaring out of him like a typhoon.

“Krell didn’t call them here on a mistake! It wasn’t a fanciful whim – he did it on purpose, he found Rabé through me – he’s gone twisted with power and he wants us to suffer! All of us, even the handmaidens, because they’re our friends – it’s like some sick punishment, he doesn’t want us to just suffer, he wants to pit us against each other, against the Umbarans, for his own entertainment-”

Rex lunged for Fives’ arm and yanked him forward, exhaustion fleeing in favor of pure anger, “You are getting dangerously close to treason, Fives!”

He didn’t care. He spat it in Rex’s face, “It’s the truth-”

“Then why push her away? How does that help anything? All you’ve managed to do with this bullshit is create a rift between us and the handmaidens when we all need to be focusing on the bigger picture here!”

“I did it to protect her, to protect them!”

“No, Fives – you did it to protect yourself.” Rex jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, towards the thicket that hid the negotiations, “you did it to protect yourself, and now you’ve disorientated the handmaidens, distracted them from their job – I have no doubt they’ll perform well, but you risked all of that.”

Fives froze, rooted to the spot by his Captain’s words – the burning heat of his anger boiled in his blood, he swore he saw red – but before he could rip into Rex, the hangar behind them erupted with light – and four missiles launched.

Rex swore, all movement in the courtyard ground to a halt, as the 501st watched with blooming horror, watched as the four missiles carved up, up, up – and slowly, gracefully, painfully – arced back down towards the center of the thick forest.

“WHO AUTHORIZED THAT LAUNCH-”

“Breach, breach, we’ve had a breach-”

“Lock it all down! We’re in the middle of negotiations-”

“Cease fire! Cease fire!”

Umbaran missiles, it turned out, lit the horizon a sharp, terrible shade of blue – the entire forest shuddered, the earth shook under their feet, and Fives barely stopped himself from screaming in time with the high, horrible whistle.

Anger scattered.

“Rex-” Fives choked out, fear seizing his lungs as the mushroom cloud blossomed over their heads, even from this distance. “Rex-”

Rex was already bringing his wristcomms up, shouting, “Get me a position on the negotiators!”

He’d been a fool.

He’d pushed her away – the cloud brushed the tops of the flora, thick acrid smoke spiraling up and away into the inky skies – troopers raced all around them, barking orders, shouting questions – and Fives’ eyes turned up, up, up towards the tallest tower in the settlement, towards the silhouette of a Besalisk standing before the window, watching the outbreak of chaos below.

They didn’t know until three hours later – after the smoke had cleared, after the negotiation team had fought their way back to the compound – that it had been the Umbarans who had broken the negotiations first, that the only people who’d known was Krell in his high tower, and that Krell had been the one to authorize the launch.

Without telling any of his troops on the ground below.

When the team broke from the forest cover, darted back into the compound – breathing heavily, covered in muck and grime and sweat – Fives had nearly sobbed in relief. Their blasters were hot in their hands, and Rabé was moving like a lothwolf, a keen-eyed, sharp-sighted, utterly focused predator. Her movements were lithe, automatic but graceful, with an uncharacteristic sternness set to her features – but when she saw Fives, it was like watching the sun burst through the cloud cover. If she was angry at him still – which she had every right to be – she gave no sign.

Fives suspected she was just as relieved to be alive as he was.

The medics met them at the gate, pulled them in, and Fives waited a minute before following, following them into the medbay, sitting down next to her, and quietly taking her hand. Kix caught the motion but said nothing – in the swirling chaos of anger and blame and fear, Rabé squeezed his hand.

“I’m sorry, sunspot.”

He reserved his fury for Krell.

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have pushed the General. Shouldn’t have gone at it alone. Shouldn’t have pushed his luck.

He did it, anyways. He knew better than to confront Krell alone.

So he waited until after the morning’s inspection.

Stupid, in hindsight.

Rex saw the intent in his eyes but he was too far away to stop Fives as he marched up to the General and cleared his throat.

“General.”

“ARC-5555.” Krell returned the greeting politely enough but there is an undercurrent, a warning to those syllables, a gleam in his horrible eyes that says go on, I dare you. I relish this fight.

“Why were we not kept updated on the status of the negotiating team?”

“It was on a need-to-know basis, ARC, and you did not need to know.”

“I think we ought to have been made aware as soon as there was the slightest risk of the negotiating turning into something else! We could have been made ready to reinforce them, push the Umbarans back.”

“Are you telling me how to do my job, clone?”

“Sir-”

“Because if you are, know this: I do not take kindly to threats. I know the situation, I know more than you, I know how to best handle and crush the enemies as they stand opposed before us. Your job is to listen to what I tell you and to execute it in the most efficient manner.”

Fives’ fists clenched. “I agree, sir, which is why-”

“Just as I had suspected, the Umbarans had used the negotiations as a ploy, a trap to make us lower our guard. I had thought this might happen.”

“You thought this would happen and yet you still knowingly sent three civilians into the line of fire?” The handmaidens weren’t truly civilians, but Fives’ mind was a blistering cloud of seething anger with every word out of Krell’s mouth. “They could have been killed!”

“Such is the price to pay during a war.”

“You knowingly sent them into danger! There never was any negotiation, was there? You were ready to throw away their lives, our lives, while you sit and watch from the sidelines! You’re a coward and an ineffective leader, you should be removed from your post-”

The dense, molten heat from the saber slipped under his blacks, and Fives froze, the words dying on his tongue. The light near blinded him and the heavy gravity of the blade right next to his cheek – even through his bucket – made his blood churn with a sick, weighted dread. “Removed from my post, you say?”

Over Krell’s shoulder, Fives saw Kix grab Rabé’s arm with two hands, pull her back. The silence in the compound was complete. Her eyes were wide and dark with terror, boring into his helmet and Krell felt it. Because – damn the bastard! – he gave Fives a gentle, simpering smile.

Rage boiled across his eyes until Fives’ jaw ached.

“Careful, clone,” Krell murmured sweetly. “I could have you executed for treason. No one in the Senate or the Order would bat an eye.”

“I can think of several who might, sir.”

But at the moment, Fives realized with a cold start – despite the blistering, deadly heat not three inches from his throat – he could only think of one, and she was neither, and she was not fifteen feet away from him.

Rabé’s hands were curled into tight fists around the plastoid of Kix’s vambraces.

“Hm.” Krell lazily flicked the blade off and Fives’ center of gravity reverted back to normal – though his head still spun. “Perhaps you are right. But one dead clone among hundreds, among thousands of others? No one would waste their time.”

The silence lay heavy on all their shoulders as Krell stretched to his full height. “Commander Appo, place ARC-5555 in the brig until we can safely transport him back to Kamino. For reconditioning.”

Terror swept through his gut as Appo’s icy durasteel grip closed over his arm, and Fives’ horrified eyes found Rabé.

Krell put on hand on his shoulder and Fives did his best not to scream and kick and curse. “Ironic, isn’t it? You’ll forget her much sooner than she’ll forget you.”

Krell’s laughter echoed in his ears all the way down to the cells, echoed in his head until he couldn’t even remember the sound of Rabé’s laughter.

What have you done?

She came to visit in the middle of the night.

They couldn’t even touch each other through the ray shield.

She rested her palm against the blue energy field and he did the same – stripped to his blacks, he felt small and weak and utterly useless – and she murmured through the thickness in her throat, “My love, my love…”

They spoke quietly, but the walls have eyes and ears.

The next morning, Krell posted two guards to stand watch over Fives’ cell.

When she next came to visit, her sisters were with her, as were his brothers.

Rex looked…

Haunted.

They all did.

But Rex…

Like horror had seeped into his heart, like he was just barely keeping himself afloat.

Fives wondered when the last time he had slept, when any of them had slept.

And when they explained what had happened, the orders they had been given, the acts of terror they had unwittingly committed, Fives’ knees gave out but he did not sink to the floor. He merely looked at Rex and said simply, “Give me my blasters.”

His eyes said another thing, and he made sure to look at Jesse, at Kix, at Tup, until they all understood.

He wasn’t going to risk the handmaidens’ lives again.

He put his hand up against the ray shield and Rabé pressed her hand back – their places reversed, Sabé and Eirtaé spitting mad as the troopers stepped away. “This is our fight,” Fives said. Rabé nodded, she understood, of course she did. “We have to do this.”

Sabé glared daggers at the men watching silently as the lift took them back up, the three handmaidens trapped in the cell – trapped but safe. Just in case. Just in case.

Fives had never fought a Jedi before.

He strongly suspected Krell had abandoned that title long ago.

This is our fight. We have to do this.

Let us do this.

Fives wrapped her warmth in his mind as he readied his blaster.

For her, for her, it’s all for you, sunspot.

She sobbed with relief when he staggered back down to the cells, fell into his arms as soon as the shield went down, wept until he kissed her tears away, her sisters slipping out around them to his brothers above.

Krell no longer looked so looming, so horrible in the bioluminescent lights.

Rex had gone to contact General Kenobi.

There was nothing left to say.

Fives leaned against the sleek dark metals of the Umbaran compound, Rabé tucked under his arm. Like it was natural, like it was meant to be. She rested her cheek on his chest, and where her skin brushed against his armor Fives swore he could feel the warmth of the Nabooian sun spreading through his veins. Banishing the chill of Umbara, the rot of Krell.

He leaned down and kissed her hair, and swore he would never let her go.

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brolinskeep · 7 years

Text

Under-giffed scenes of Merlin

another anual rewatch series

based on a post by @dollopheadsandclotpoles i'm going to do a series of under-giffed scenes of merlin for my anual rewatch this year starting end of october.

but we may need some help picking scenes to gif for every episode, so if you have a scene that doesn’t get the gif-attention it deserves, please send in your prompts :)

just send an ask, reply to this post or reblog it adding your prompt, including the number of the episode and which scene from it (if it’s a rather long scene, please let me know which moment/line you’d like the focus to be on!). also: when i make the gifset of your prompt, i’d like to add ‘prompt by [yourtumblrname]’ to the post. if you do NOT want to be mentioned, please let me know.

despite the tags i’m tagging this post with, A L L scenes and characters are welcome with one exception: since i am an exclusive merthur shipper, i rather not gif merlin or arthur in a romantic/*shippery* context with anyone but each other, so no freya\merlin, gwen\arthur or those s1 morgana\arthur scenes.

you’re welcome to send as many prompts as you want for every episode. *

for the list of episodes and what prompts have been made yet:

1x01: sir owlen’s medicin [by @momotastic27] , saving arthur [by @tracionn] 1x02: “Has your father apologised for not believing you?” “He'll never apologise.” -> arthur apologizing to merlin [by @momotastic27] 1x03: Arthur raiding Gaius’s place and asking what his papers are and Gaius is like “My life’s work” [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] 1x04: Merlin goes wild wild west: Showdown in the throne room (you know when the red ones meet the blue ones) [by @merlination] 1x05: - Lancelot and Gwen's first meeting [by @xrosheen] - Arthur Dom!tendencies towards Lancelot "ON YOUR KNEES" vs."I only wish to serve" [by @momotastic27] 1x06: - Merlin learning some magic from Edwin [by @momotastic27] - merlin and arthur talk [by anon] 1x07: where Sophia is being attacked and Arthur fights them off and as the bandits are running away Merlin yells “AND LET THAT BE A LESSON TO YOU” and Arthur gives him a look like “wtf” [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] 1x08: - Merlin in the military gear or however that gangway is called [by @merlination] - Mordred being separated from his fellow starting with “Go!” [by @merlination] 1x09: you could say there’s a bond between us 1x10: - Merlins shoulder clap vs GAius hug [by @merlination] - Merlin cant sleep without Arthur by his side aka turing wildly, seaching the sword and standing up in the most clumsy way ever. [by @merlination] 1x11: I want you to go in there … But it could be dangerous … Lets hope so. [by @merlination] 1x12: - Morgana searching for Gwen in different locations [by @merlination] - Gwen and her father and the present part: You’re a beautiful girl, you deserve beautiful things. [by @merlination] 1x13: Arthur puts himself between Merlin and the Questing Beast (cave scene) [by @xrosheen]

2x01: merlin saving arthur from the gargoyle 2x02: -Every moment of Arthur in Merlin's cloak/the moment where Arthur gives away his credits and rewards to his jousting substitute? [by @tracionn] - arthur trying to sleep at gwen’s 2x03: merlin vs the broom 2x04: - Merlin when he does the magic to let the Kronleuchter fall and Arthur when he gets them out of the fighting pit? [by @tracionn] - gwencelot tunnel scene - its him you need to worry about - anything with Merlin in his disguise clothes really [by @tracionn] 2x05: merthur watching uther and catrina 2x06: - i told you so - Arthur has drunk the [potion] and passes out. Merlin and Gaius lower him to the ground. Merlin cradles his head and then once his head is on the ground, he goddamn strokes the side of his face. [by @peepscarf108] - merlin “cleaning” arthur room [by @moonliel] - dragon laughing about uther - arthur and uther talk 2x07: - Merlin being all sad and magicking the fire horse [by @tracionn] - Arthur defending Merlin please [by @tracionn] 2x08: - arthur losing to morgause - “Oh great, so the horse knows where we’re going” [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - Merthur i was defeated by a girl . That’s quite funny when you think about it, or not. [by @merlination] 2x09: merthur sure you haven’t eaten them? I haven’t had the chance. (The drum stick acvident) [by @merlination] 2x10: - “Every WOman in the Land is aTtracted to his boy” [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - merlin? Yes arthur? (Because he rarely calls him by his name in exactly that way, it’s usually sire) [by @merlination] - uther to merlin abt arthur ‘whatshappened to him?’ 2x11: arthur’s dinner ‘let it thicken 2x12: - one where Arthur picks Uther up, sees that he’s sleeping and drops him back on the table [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - the bit where Merlin is trying to revive Gaius and it’s not working [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - there’s also the moment where Merlin makes a joke about Uther having a big ass [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] 2x13: - “That’s a BIG WORD Merlin, sure you know what it means?” [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - wet!merthur in the tavern [by @ofkingsandlionhearts] - They’re in their hotel room- equivalent- Arthurs getting undressed. Merlin is in a separate bed on the other side of the room. There’s a silent exchange where Merlin looks [wistfully] at shirtless Arthur. Arthur turns and looks over his shoulder. Merlin awkwardly avoids his gaze. Arthur then asks ‘what is wrong with you today?’ [by @peepscarf108]

3x01: - Gaius talking to Uther in the throne room, because beautiful shot [by @merlination] - morgause and merlin chatting 3x02: arthur promissing uther to defend camelot 3x03: - Merlin in the library “east is that way” [by @merlination] - arhtur tanghled in his sheets - goblin!gaius b*tchslapping uther [by @ofkingsandlionhearts] 3x04: - Gwaine’s disarming move ™ [by @momotastic27] - Merlin is in the fake-Knights’ chambers being attacked. Gwaine bursts in to save him. He says “You alright, Merlin?” And Merlin shakes his head and does the cutest little “Nooo”. [by @peepscarf108] - Gwaine saving Arthur in the tavern and going down because of his injury [by @merlination] 3x05: - Merthur: Trust me - If you say that one more time [by @merlination] - Throne room, Arthur parising Merlin infront of the court, Gwen being a proud mum [by @merlination] 3x06: - Grunhilda talking to the sidhe king [by @momotastic27] - the guard and arthurs horse - Elena and her father and the shoes. Perfect for what? Certainly not for walking. [by @merlination] - Uther/Arthur in his chambers. One fine day you will be a husband, but for sure you will be king. [by @merlination] - gaius and merlin talking tongue magic 3x07: - The WoOoolves a.k.a when Merlin pretends not to doesn’t get the hint that Arthur wants to be alone with Gwen [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - Breakfast scene - Uther: We can just replace her and the reactions of Arthur, Merlin and Morgana. [by @merlination] - Elyan/Gwen reunited hug [by @merlination] 3x08: - When Gwaine and Arthur are arguing about who has to stick their hand in that bug infested thing to save Merlin [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - courage strength and magic - Gwaine’s sword being turned into flowers [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles 3x09: the one where Merlin is a sassy dad. Gaius/Merlin “Do your supplies normally kiss you?” “How dare you" [by @merlination] 3x10: Morgana and her gorgeous red dress searching the castle in different places (because that castle is as pretty as Morgana in her dress) [by @merlination] 3x11: - Merlin. Yeah, you’re right, theres nothing to worry about. [by @merlination] - Gilly/Merlin “Youre not a gladiator, Uhter will have you executed.” [by @merlination] - dinner talk ‘arthur is ready to be king’ 3x12: - Leon being healed in the cave “Welcome knight” [by @merlination] - uther ‘u must go alone’ - arthur: takes merlin with 3x13: - Merlin/Gwaine “You look like you’ve seen a ghost” “I’m fine” [by @merlination] - Merthur: “We cant defeat a mortal army.” “We dont know until we try.” [by @merlination] - the knights being knighted

4x01: arthur comforting the girl in the council chambers [by @nerdderek] 4x02: lancelot being like "you're meant to be dying" to merlin and then merlin's like "sorry" and they banter a bit about lancelot's skills [by @nerdderek] 4x03: merlin's expressions when arthur's on the wheel [by @nerdderek] 4x04: merlin and the badass "i am the last dragonlord" scene [by @nerdderek] 4x05: 4x06: merlin-morgana conversation with the "do me a favour will you? let arthur know. he still thinks of me as an underachiever but i'm quite proud of those accomplishments" [by @nerdderek] 4x07: convo between gaius and arthur at the end "contained within this great kingdom is a rich variety of people with a range of different beliefs. i'm not the only one seeking to protect you arthur" [by @nerdderek] 4x08: the guy for the village being all dismissive of merlin and elyan stepping up and going "his name is merlin." and gwen saying "he was appointed acting physician by king arthur himself" [by @nerdderek] 4x09: 4x10: - “So now YOU’RE ignoring me. Great. I might as well not even exist. ‘Hello, my name’s Merlin, but don’t worry about me. I’m not even here.” [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - “Ask Arthur I’m always peeing" [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] - merlin following arthur into the woods and they have that “fancy meeting you here” - ”what the hell are you doing creeping around the woods conversation [by @nerdderek] 4x11: 4x12: “A king must look KinGLY” or the “I’m saying… the belt is one hole shy of perfection” [by @dollopheadsandclotpoles] 4x13: When the party enters Camelot Isolde to Tristan: Whatever happened to the idea of finding a bit of land and settling down? Arthur trying to say something nice to Merlin: You know, this thing’s not bad. Merlin to Arthur: Thought you might like it. [by @lao-paperman]

5x01: where Arthur says it's treason to threaten a king and merlin goes "how about an ass?" [by anon] 5x02: 5x03: at the start of the ep before they hear the woman screaming / when they run towards the village and arthur says "you're learning" to merlin [by @nerdderek] 5x04: when Arthur fights in that cavern and then realizes that he's been betrayed [by @tracionn] 5x05: Gwen in the dark tower- freaking out because of Morgana’s bad magics. EvilVision!Merlin waves at her to come closer. Then he appears behind her roaring. [by @ peepscarf108] 5x07: 5x08: 5x09: Arthur rescues Merlin after he falls off the cliff [by @xrosheen] 5x10: 5x11: 5x12: 5x13:

*if there’ll be more than one prompt for an episode, i get to choose one of them :p

#merlinedit #merthur #merlin #bbc merlin #.mrewatch #.rw2017

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