#over half of which I have no clue about and have no clue why they’d be on either side

[quibbs126]

So my brain’s thinking back to that Transformers continuity idea thing I had, and while I don’t have any new ideas right now, I do have one thing I’m just not really sure what to do with

If Megatron isn’t the leader of the Decepticons here, then who do I make the leader?

With Optimus, there’s already some precedent and thus potential candidates, like Ultra Magnus, Sentinel Prime, or heck any of the thirteen Primes (a thought has now entered my mind of the Autobot and Decepticon faction forming from a rift between the Primes, and each being led by 6 of them while there’s 1 who’s still neutral, but I don’t know enough about the Thirteen to really do much with this, and also maybe it’d be better to have the mythical godlike heroes of Cybertron’s old days stay as just that, and say corruption only started after their time)

But since Megatron is almost always the leader of the Decepticons, and while I’ve heard in some he wasn’t the original, I don’t know who led before him. So I don’t really know who to use

My only real potential idea is Galvatron, since I know in IDW he and Megatron are separate entities. And maybe you could spin something with the fact that they have similar names, like Galvatron taking a personal liking to Megatron, or Megatron naming himself in the vein of Galvatron because he idolizes him

But maybe someone else works better? I still don’t think I’m that knowledgeable on Transformers lore yet, I kind of got sidetracked and haven’t finished Animated yet

[areyouwho-ithinkyouare]

okok i’m doing prep for d&d later and they’re arriving in a new town so i’m working on that community and ohhhhhh my god i think this is my favourite npc i’ve ever created i hope they dont ignore her or kill her bcus i want 2 be her more than once pleaase

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Extracurriculars (S.R.)

Summary: Reader saves her TA from a frathouse.

Request: gradstudent!Spencer getting dragged to a frat party and hooking up with a girl in her undergrad (someone he's been interested in) A/N: Who wouldn’t want to deflower sweet Spencer? Characters are both around 21. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Virgin!Spencer, frat house, college party, alcohol, drunken sexual activity, heavy petting, kissing, making out, loss of virginity (male) penetrative sex, protected sex (condom), TA/Student relationship Word Count: 5k

MASTERLIST

When I was younger, my mother taught me a few key lessons about growing up. She had to teach me those things because, while they seemed to come naturally to other kids, they never came to me.

It seemed fundamentally unfair that I could do the quadratic formula before I could tie my shoes. Of course, with that, I could just insist I preferred Velcro. My inability to recognize the socially acceptable way to care for my body, or even recognize the signals it was sending to me, was a little harder to explain. It was even harder to calibrate.

By the time I reached college, I became obsessed with cleanliness to an unhealthy degree. I would avoid any situations where I could find myself fixated on dirt beneath my fingernails or anything that could be even tangentially described as ‘sticky.’

I was petrified of being perceived as anything but pure. I had been that way for long enough that it had basically become my defining character trait.

And then, on one very lonely and poorly planned night in grad school, I decided to challenge the idea that I could only be one thing.

That night, I went to a frat house.

Between the pulsing speakers that measured up to my hips and the remnants of discarded beer bottles, I realized that I had made a number of miscalculations—the kind that my mother had most certainly not prepared me for.

“Come on, man, live a little!” the student beside me shouted over impossibly loud music.

I hadn’t the slightest clue what he was asking me to do, but I could tell from the taunt that my answer would be the same regardless:

“N-No thanks.”

I looked down at the glass bottle still dripping beer from its lip. My stomach churned at the sight. I was so distracted by the thought of spit coating the finish that I had failed to connect the dots to realize that the group was planning to play the aptly named game ‘spin the bottle.’

That was, until the older but somehow less mature man to my side jeered, “Why not? Have you never kissed a girl before?”

My cheeks burned with some mixture of embarrassment and rage. I’d hoped that they would confuse it for drunkenness, if they’d thought about it at all.

I wanted to open my mouth to defend my decision without sounding pathetic, but my lips stayed tightly shut.

Then, just a second before the pause became awkward, a second voice chimed in.

“Piss off, idiot.”

I heard her right before I felt her. Her arm slung around my neck brought with it the comforting scent of jasmine and vanilla. Her heated skin somehow stayed warm but never sticky, and my body quickly corrected its instinct to move closer to her.

She’s my student, I reminded myself.

My favorite student, though.

Although the feeling was shared by the man she was speaking to, he wasn’t so clear about it. He seemed almost sarcastic when he shouted, “Whoa! Careful there (y/n), you might make me think you like me.”

By contrast, she was outright in her apathy when she droned, “No one likes you.”

“Ouch,” he replied with a hand clutching his chest, “You wound me.”

I’d half expected her to respond to him in kind. My mind ran a million confusing calculations to try to determine whether this was just harmless flirting or actual annoyance. All I knew for certain was that my chest burned with jealousy that dissipated within a second of her speaking again.

“Hey cutie, which of these jackasses brought you here?” she asked so sweetly I could taste sugar on my tongue as I tried to answer.

“Huh? Oh, u-uh. No… jackasses.”

Smooth as the cheap liquor we’re drinking.

“Yeah, right,” she chuckled in disbelief before explaining, “That’s all that’s here besides you.”

… Besides me?

“You wanna leave?”

My heart stopped at the mere thought. For a moment, I convinced myself that I had fantasized the question. Perhaps someone had slipped something into my drink that had turned me into a blubbering fool. Perhaps it was something more nefarious.

She wouldn’t.

Wouldn’t what?

“What?” I asked.

Before she could clarify, the now very unwelcome third presence chimed in, “He just got here! Let him stay.”

I watched as she bristled in response. Her fingernails dug slightly into my shoulder and she pulled me closer.

It must have been instinct. There was no way she could have meant it on purpose.

It felt nice, though, to be closer to her.

“I also just got here, and yet, I want to leave,” she sneered.

When he made a motion to touch her shoulder the same way she’d been touching mine, she jumped back with a stern warning.

“Touch me and lose at least one testicle.”

He put his hands up in surrender. She scoffed. Her hand dropped from my shoulder, but I never had time to miss her. She took my hand so quickly that I didn’t have time to think about my response. So, I held hers back.

My heart had finally made up its mind before she spoke.

“Come on, sweetheart. We’re leaving,” she ordered.

I followed.

“W-Where are we going?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t know. Somewhere else.”

She turned to look at me with the utmost skepticism, or, dare I say it, fascination with what she found.

“You have somewhere to be?” she asked.

“Um… no?”

I prayed it had been the right answer.

It was.

“Wanna come back to my place?” she offered with a smile, “It’s not far from here.”

She’d said it so casually that I couldn’t help but feel I’d missed something. Surely, she couldn’t be offering the normal incidental activities typically involved with accompanying someone ‘back to their place.’

I had been so certain of it that I’d even possessed the courage to ask.

“Uh… to do… what?”

She laughed. It wasn’t a painful sound; it was kind and airy. The music of her laughter lined the increasingly quiet streets as the music faded away in the background.

“You’re cute,” she hummed. Then, with a wicked smirk, she purred, “You got something in mind?”

My face filled with what felt like half the blood in my body. The rest went to another, somehow even more embarrassing aspect of my anatomy.

She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed emboldened and excited by how smitten I seemed. It all felt so idyllic that I didn’t even question when she’d taken my hand in hers again.

“Come on, cutie,” she instructed.

My heart quivered at the compliment. I didn’t even try to convince myself that it had been uttered with condescension or sarcasm. I enjoyed, even just for a moment, the idea that I might be seen as something desirable to her.

I had many reasons not to trust women like her. I had been burned in the past, with ropes and blindfolds that still felt paralyzing. But in that moment, those cruel memories felt worlds away.

She had just seemed so… calm. So happy to flaunt our intertwined fingers no matter how many familiar faces we passed.

“What were you doing in a place like that, anyway?” she asked.

I laughed before I thought not to.

“Did I seem that uncomfortable?”

“Weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I was.”

The admission didn’t seem as humiliating as I’d expected it to. The girl swaying closer with each step seemed pleased at the answer. I realized that she might’ve carried her own concern that perhaps she had overstepped bounds by assuming she was doing me a favor.

“Thanks for saving me,” I reassured her.

“Please,” she sighed, “I was looking for a reason to leave.”

It was a genuine, if not puzzling statement. Although I’d failed to realize in the moment, I would come to learn that we had both arrived at the party with the exact same motivations.

“Why’d you go then?” I asked.

The glitter on her face paled in comparison to her eyes among the streetlights. While she stared at me, I lost myself in the mesmerizing cascade of fluttering incandescence among the backdrop of her irises.

It was not the alcohol in my veins that made my cheeks tinge pink. It was not the bitter heat of the drought, nor the fear of whatever was making my shoes stick to cement.

It was the sound of her sigh and the way she looked at me like I might know the solution to the problem that landed us there together.

“Hell if I know,” she laughed solemnly. “Lonely, I guess.”

That makes two of us, I wanted to say. But it could be zero. If you wanted it to.

I wasn’t drunk enough to say that, though. Just enough to not stop the seemingly rude question from slipping out.

“Do any of those people actually… like each other?”

“Definitely not,” she laughed again.

I wanted to hear it again, but I didn’t know how to make sure of that.

So, instead, I just smiled and said, “Noted.”

By some miracle, she giggled again. Once she finished, she turned to look at me. At first, I met her eyes, but the intensity caused a shiver to spark throughout my entire body. Goosebumps rippled as my heart struggled to make sense of the feelings her eyes stirred inside me.

She laughed again. I wouldn’t care if it was the hundredth time. I savored the sweet sound in each of its iterations.

With her bitten lip and her half-lidded eyes, she swayed closer to me until our bodies bumped. I wondered if she could feel the way I shivered in response.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re cute,” she answered.

It was such a strange thing for her to repeat that the insecurity riding the waves of alcohol bubbled over again.

“You aren’t drunk, right?”

Again, she laughed.

Again, I begged.

“No, silly! I know my limits.”

She certainly hadn’t been shy with sharing the lack of them, either. Her arm wrapped around mine and pulled me even closer. It took every bit of focus I could muster not to trip and bring an end to the most wonderful waking dream.

Of course, that focus vanished almost immediately once I realized what part of her anatomy was now pressed against my arm.

So soft and warm and—

“Why are you worried about it, anyway?” she hummed.

At the same time, she dipped her head down to force me to meet her eyes instead of staring at her chest. Somehow, that wasn’t the most humiliating part of the exchange. No, that honor was reserved for the question that followed.

“Are you sure you don’t have any extracurriculars in mind for when we get to my place?”

“I was just making sure!” I yelped in the most pathetic kind of defense. It took me a moment and her own wayward glances down my body to realize that the tease hadn’t been an accusation.

If anything, it felt more like an offer.

Pride and confusion swelled in my chest. In the chaos, a few words tumbled out of my mouth that I hadn’t pre-prepared.

“I-I mean, you keep calling me cute, so… Sounds like something a drunk girl would say,” I laughed.

She didn’t, though. Instead, she came to a sudden stop and her lips curled into a slightly unnerving curvature. A hungry, stomach turning desire for… something.

Me?

It couldn’t be.

I stopped, too, holding my breath and waiting for some permission or instruction to do anything but wait. Thankfully, she turned and climbed the stairs of what I could now safely assume was her porch.

She threw the door open without further fanfare but a little bit of a tease.

“Get inside, idiot,” she laughed.

I followed her instruction. Of course, I paused at the door and waited for her to show me the way. I nearly passed out when she intertwined our fingers once more and led me through the darkness of her otherwise unoccupied apartment.

My training to hopefully get into the FBI would have had me carefully inspecting her surroundings to learn more about this tantalizing woman. It wouldn’t have been a bad idea, but I knew there was no way I could focus on anything other than how it felt when she looked at me.

Especially then. Together in the light polluted darkness, she didn’t stray too far. Even when she reached behind me to shut the door to her room, she lingered.

I stumbled backwards, not in fear, but as a horrible overcorrection to what I wanted to do.

To my surprise, it didn’t dissuade her.

In fact, she came even closer. She stepped forward until her chest was pressed against mine and her breath ghosted over my ear.

“Was he right, by the way?”

“Who?”

She let go of my hand and began trailing her fingers softly up my arm until I honestly couldn’t see straight anymore.

I wanted her so badly. Almost on cue, she splayed her hand across my lower back and held my hips against hers.

Again, I whimpered. Again, she giggled.

Her hips rolled forward against my now very prominent erection wedged between us. Just before she spoke, she took a sharp inhale that was released with a shaky breath.

“Have you ever kissed a girl before?” she asked.

I couldn’t even think to speak, let alone lie.

I shook my head no. Her free hand immediately tangled in my hair, tilting my head to the side just to see whether I would resist.

I didn’t.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

That time, I had to say something. I was too afraid the moment would slip away.

“Um… are you… asking me to kiss you?”

Immediately, she returned the question with a question.

“Are you telling me no?”

“No!”

Her hand in my hair held me steady while she retreated. The room felt hopelessly cold without her body heat.

“No, no, I’m not telling you no,” I babbled while she looked on with that same wicked smile. “As in, I think my answer is… yes?”

Before I could resort to begging, she closed the distance between us. Her hands held my cheeks and pulled me forward until our lips crashed together.

I knew my kissing her was clumsy and naive, but I couldn’t help it. The moment I tasted faded fruit flavored chapstick, my mind gave up on any hope for reason.

Just when I thought she was done with me, she kissed me again. She kept kissing me—the action becoming sloppier and sweeter with every passing second.

Her hands dropped to grip fistfuls of my shirt at the same time mine jumped to cup her face.

She was so soft. The pillowy feeling of her lips made me forget how much I normally hated stickiness on my skin. Because I loved how it felt when her lips lingered.

I would’ve kissed her for hours, forever, but she ended that hope with a firm tug of my shirt before she tossed me towards her bed.

My heart leapt into my throat. It lodged itself just behind the Adam’s apple like it could hide its blatant affection from her somehow.

She stalked closer like she had before. She drew feathery patterns up my goosebump riddled arms before she whispered in my ear.

“You’re fun to kiss.”

“I-Is it bad?” I stammered, for some reason.

“No, it’s fun,” she repeated.

She didn’t dwell for a second on my insecurity and momentary idiocy. Instead, she began lowering her fingers down my stomach and giggling as she felt the muscles tense.

“You wanna do something more fun, Spencer?”

Completely lacking any oxygen, I breathed, “Like what?”

“You’re a genius, right?”

Just like that, she firmly grabbed hold of me through my pants. I responded with a broken, strangled cry that fell away the moment she started to drum her fingers against the burning fabric. 

“Do I need to say it?” she teased.

Her tongue peeked out between her teeth when she pulled back to look at me. At the same time, she began palming my erection with such familiarity that I nearly fell apart in her hand.

“Fuck,” I groaned involuntarily.

“Never heard you talk like that before,” she whispered, “Hope it’s a nice word.”

Euphoria flooded my senses that were dangerously heightened by the alcohol I’d consumed to make it through the party. Not enough to be inebriated, but enough to make me stupid.

Even more stupid than I was already made by the blood pooling in the appendage fighting against my pants.

“Fuck, please don’t stop,” I gasped. My hips started bucking against her, and for a moment, I thought she would grant me mercy.

But then her hand slowed to a stop.

“Gonna have to stop if you want to get to the fun part,” she cooed.

Half-joking, I slurred back, “Is this not the fun part?”

Then the world came to a standstill, the universe pausing its incessant tumbling to allow me to hear her next words with a crystal-like clarity.

“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?”

I nodded without hesitation or shame.

“Use your pretty voice,” she chastised so kindly it made my heart ache.

“Yes,” I pleaded. “Yes, I want to f-fuck you.”

She smiled and it didn’t feel like a mockery, somehow.

“Good,” she chirped. Then, without hesitation, she began steadfastly undoing my pants.

She seemed so skilled at the movements that I doubted whether she’d had any alcohol at all.

I’d been so caught up in the wonder of her that every ounce of fight left my body. I let her undress me and barely managed to help in my stupor.

She still didn’t mind. The smile on her face persisted the entire time.

“Lay down,” she commanded.

I followed. I scrambled back onto her bed without ever taking my eyes off her.

She moved so elegantly, so graceful as she stripped and presented me with the most beautiful sight. My heart was pounding so hard against my rib cage that I was worried it might break free to find her.

Yet when she finally crawled on top of me, my body tried to sink into the mattress. As if to stop me, she wrapped her devilishly warm fingers around my dick.

Still, I’d managed to squeak, “Aren’t you worried that we’re… moving a little fast?”

“Are you worried?” she shot back without judgement.

My mind was caught in two types of fog, however. I tried to breathe through it, tried to think of anything besides how nice it felt when her fingers ghosted over the bare tip, but I couldn’t.

“Are you sure you’re not drunk?” I laughed again, the words getting caught on soft moans still pouring from my mouth.

“You tell me,” she dared.

Then she kissed me. This time, she didn’t stop at my lips. Her lithe tongue slipped between my teeth and nearly wrapped around my own.

The muffled sounds of pleasure between us were getting harder to bear. That energy, the pent up frustration of almost a full year of wanting her had to come out somehow.

I grabbed her hips harder than I thought I was capable of. My nails dug into soft flesh and it caused her to make the most beautiful sound.

That beautiful girl gasped before she moaned against my cheek. Her hips dug harder into my lap, bucking against the hardness wedged between her thighs.

I dragged my nails down her legs, surprising us both at how much I loved to watch her writhe.

Still, I knew she was the one in control. She looked down at me like a toy that played perfectly along with her fantasies.

I wanted to let her have her way with me. But when she leaned over my body, I couldn’t stop myself. My lips caught her breast the moment she came close enough.

My hands were gentler there, palming at the supple tissue that slipped between my fingers. I lavished the hardened peak at the center for as long as she would let me, suckling at her breast like a man starved.

Eventually, though, she wound a hand through my hair and pulled me back against the pillow.

In my daze, I hardly noticed the condom in her hand until she rolled the latex over my dick.

Suddenly, and without thinking, I sputtered out a confounding command.

“Wait!”

She froze. Her flushed chest heaved, still glistening with evidence of my affection.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice filled with the most genuine concern.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine, I just…” I tried to assure her and myself.

The poor girl looked horrified, like she was waiting for me to condemn her for her absolutely delightful enthusiasm up to this point.

It was such a silly worry that it almost made me laugh. It almost made the vulnerability that would follow feel like no risk at all.

“I need to tell you something first,” I explained.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at her. I really looked at her—that dazzling star of a girl. My student, my favorite student that I’d watched and lusted over in every class. My mind simmered with that feeling; the knowing that the thing I coveted most might actually be mine.

“I… like you,” I said.

Less eloquent than I’d hoped.

If her bubbly, wholehearted laugh was any indication, she still didn’t mind.

“Well, I’d sure hope so!” she snickered.

I felt compelled to explain.

“No, I mean, I’ve liked you for a while now. Like, I really like you,” I insisted.

That time when she kissed me, it felt like her own confession. Scooting forward until her heat was pressed against my own, she sighed happily against my lips.

“You’re so sweet, Spencer,” she hummed, “I really like-like you, too.”

Even though my mind tried to deny it, my foolhardy heart recognized the truth in her words. It clung to her the same as my hands drifting over the new marks on her thighs.

“But we don’t have to do this,” she assured me. “Do you want to do this, or do you want to stop?”

“I want you so bad,” I whined without any hesitation. “Please, please—I want you.”

That cruel twist of her lips returned. The sound of my begging urged her on until she lifted herself just above where I wanted her. She leaned forward again, propping herself up above me while her hair tickled my face.

“Kiss me,” she slurred against my lips.

I did. I kissed her even more feverishly than before and used all the air in my chest to worship her.

I was convinced my lungs would collapse when she finally started to ease her way onto my aching cock. Each second of tortuous pleasure, the scorching heat of her enveloping me like flames kissing desiccated wood.

My jaw was dropped open, my mouth losing all moisture as I panted and twitched with pleasure. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I saw her. I watched as she winced at how far her walls had to stretch around me.

Yet I felt her desire dripping at the base of me, glistening the same as my spit spread across her breast.

“That’s it, baby,” she purred as she settled at the base of me.

I looked down at where I’d disappeared inside of her and decided it was better than any magic trick I’d ever hoped to master.

“Does that feel good?” she whispered when she saw the wonder in my eyes.

Involuntarily, my hips bucked into her and made her gasp. Then, still without meaning to, I did it again.

“Yes,” I hissed when she tightened her walls around me.

“My sweet boy,” she cooed between breathy laughter, “You’re so fucking precious. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

As if she hadn’t already.

But I would come to bite my tongue quicker than the words could make it out. Because for all the pleasure her descent had brought, it couldn’t compare to the feeling of her hips subtly rocking throughout her ascent.

My body actually trembled, overcome with the unadulterated pleasure of her careful rolling up and down my dick. It seemed insane for such a simple motion to render me absolutely dumbfounded, but it did.

I didn’t say a word. The only thing spilling from my lips were moans and butchered attempts at her name.

My hands, however, wandered. They traced her silhouette and groped whatever softness it could find. They settled, naturally, at her breasts. Through the motions of curious, clumsy fingers, I felt her heart beating harder against my palm.

As its speed increased, so did that of her hips. She came down harder while the pitch of her moans grew higher and more airy.

“Spencer,” she whined.

It sounded like starlight igniting deep in my chest. I felt that tension growing in my gut, threatening to bring an end to the wonder of loving her.

“Wait,” I grunted. My hands fell to her hips and halted her movements before I begged, “Sl-Slower.”

She obliged me. With her head tipped back and her hands on my chest, she rode me so slowly that I could feel every detail of her twitching muscles.

“You’re so beautiful,” I groaned.

My hips caught me off guard as they started to move. They bucked up into her with increasing intensity until it broke her rhythm.

That beautiful girl fell forward, barely catching herself before she collapsed against my body.

“Fuck me, Spencer,” she mumbled against my neck. She interrupted her own pleas with sloppy kisses against my jugular that lit my body on fire.

That passion was quickly muted by her words, however. Because that was when she growled, “Take me, Spencer. I’m yours.”

I’d never been a particularly strong man, but there was absolutely nothing that would stop me then. My hands splayed over the back of her thighs and lifted her just enough for my hips to move freely.

She clung to me, her arms wrapped around my neck and her whole body rippling with each collision of our hips.

I fucked her harder, my hands carving the memory into her skin and my jaw clenched so tightly I thought I might draw blood from my tongue.

“You can do it, sweetheart,” she purred.  “Give it to me.”

Then, just before I found my peak, I felt it. The unmistakable feeling of pulsing muscles as her body seized in my hold.

I gasped, choking on a moan as I felt her body begging me to fill her with the full extent of my desire.

I emptied myself into the condom and wished that it could have been her instead. I felt the warmth dripping back down me and dared to wonder what it would have looked like on her now-marked thighs.

“Good boy,” she snickered like she could read those fantasies raging in my mind. “That’s my good boy.”

She lifted her head just enough to plant one final kiss on my forehead, and then she promptly collapsed against my chest. I welcomed her weight despite the lack of air. Breathing hardly seemed important compared to her comfort.

And it was comfortable for me, too. As I nuzzled against her neck, I found a sense of home that I’d never felt before.

She was sticky with sweat and spit from haphazard kisses, but she was so beautiful that I barely even noticed.

When she got off of my lap, I missed her immediately. My hand chased hers and, to my unending pleasure, she let me hold it. She lingered for as long as she could before she excused herself and left me to clean up the evidence of what we’d done.

Her room was still as quiet as before. The heavy bass from the frat house felt lifetimes away. The alcohol still swirled in my bloodstream, doing little to warm my now freezing body.

When she walked back through the door, my body flooded with relief. I watched as she grabbed all of my clothing she’s tossed around and placed each piece on the nightstand.

There was a strange sadness in her eyes that I would’ve done anything to remedy.

“Hey, uh…” I started, yet my throat closed when she looked at me.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I-I have a question,” I said.

Then paused, again.

She smiled. When that didn’t serve as answer enough, she laughed.

“Yeah?”

That lovely sound granted me the confidence to finally ask the question I’d been pondering since the moment I stepped into her room.

“Are… Are you still lonely?”

I hadn’t thought it possible, but her smile grew even brighter. Abandoning starlight for the full force of the sun that would soon peek over the horizon.

“Not so much anymore,” she answered bashfully.

I smiled, too. With a playful tilt to my shrug, I asked her one more question that begged for an answer.

“Can I stay anyway?”

Again, she giggled.

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

“So would I,” I told her.

And so, we did.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

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[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?” 

“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it’s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .” 

“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes. 

“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.” 

“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.” 

Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot. 

A lot. 

“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of. 

Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.” 

“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever. 

Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.  

So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone? 

Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life. 

. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone. 

“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?” 

“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question. 

“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like. 

“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all. 

God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too. 

[firstkanaphans]

Could you imagine writing 11 for SandRay? 🥺👉👈

Rating/Warnings: Explicit; Dom/Sub undertones Word Count: 2800ish (someone save me from myself bc the whole point of this exercise was to not write full-length fics 🙈)

Read on AO3

{tying} them down as punishment

When Sand got home to the apartment he shared with Ray, it was dark. That should have been his first clue that something was wrong but naively, he assumed his boyfriend was capable of being normal. He realized he was wrong when the lights suddenly turned on, revealing Ray sitting on their living room sofa with his arms crossed.

“Where have you been?” Ray asked, standing. He was dressed in nothing but a silk bathrobe, his chest bare underneath. 

Sand rolled his eyes and tossed his empty bag down on a chair. “You know where I’ve been,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and discarding that as well. 

“I do,” Ray said. “But we agreed you wouldn’t do that anymore, so I’m having a hard time seeing why—”

“We did not agree.” Sand huffed. “You made that up in your head.”

Ray didn’t like that Sand was still selling his illegally brewed plum wine. When they’d started talking about moving in together, one of Ray’s conditions had been that Sand get rid of the wine, which Sand had agreed to. It was one of Ray’s more reasonable conditions and he had no intention of bringing alcohol into a space they shared anyway, but he slowly came to realize it wasn’t the alcohol itself that Ray had a problem with. It was the illegality of it. And it wasn’t himself he was worried about. It was Sand.

It might have been sweet if it wasn’t so goddamn annoying.

“No, we talked about this,” Ray argued with the air of someone who didn’t understand that just because they told you to do something, didn’t mean you actually had to do it. “What happens to me if you get arrested, hm? Did you think about that? We live together now. You can't just abandon me. If you need money—”

He was starting to get worked up the way he always did when he got it into his head that Sand might be leaving the way everyone left, so Sand stepped forward and took Ray’s face into his hands, forcing him to calm down. Ray swatted him away.

“I didn’t want to just dump it, okay?" Sand said. "But I sold the last bottle tonight. I’m done. I’m not making anymore.” It was a win for Ray, but he seemed unwilling to admit that. Instead, he just stood there pouting, his arms still crossed over his chest.

Sand knew Ray was far too stubborn to admit he was wrong, but he hadn’t realized just how stubborn until Ray launched himself across the space between them and kissed him on the lips to avoid having to admit anything at all. Sand could have pressed him if he wanted to, but he knew that kiss was likely the only apology he was going to get and so he decided to enjoy it.

He grabbed Ray by the ties of his robe to pull him closer and then slowly untied it so that he could slip his hands inside to wrap around Ray’s waist. His skin was warm and he shivered at Sand’s touch, but he didn’t break the kiss. In fact, he kissed him harder, backing him towards their bedroom. Towards their bed. He let his robe fall to the floor, leaving him in only his underwear, and then pulled Sand’s T-shirt over his head. By the time he pushed Sand down onto the mattress, they were both half-naked.

“You’re impatient tonight,” Sand said, suddenly eager himself. He liked when Ray got needy like this. He liked being the only thing that could calm him.

Ray didn’t bother responding. He was too far gone for words. Instead, he kissed Sand again, grabbing both of his wrists in his hands and lifting them above his head as if he wanted to pin them there.

That’s when Sand heard an ominous click. 

He immediately broke the kiss and looked up to find that he had been handcuffed to the bed. The cuffs were made out of a butter-soft leather, but when he pulled against them, they didn’t give. The chain was wound around one of the iron bars of their bed frame and made a rattling noise as he pulled. Sand whipped around to glare at Ray.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

Ray just shrugged innocently, but his face did not look innocent at all. He looked inordinately pleased with himself as if he hadn’t actually expected that to work. “Punishing you,” he said simply. “You’ve been a very bad boy.”

“Oh, have I?” Sand tugged on the restraints again, but found no purchase. He turned back to Ray, intrigued. It was not like Ray to take control like this—not unless he was angry or frustrated or wanted a drink, but would settle for Sand instead. He didn’t seem to be any of those things at the moment. Instead, he seemed giddy like a child who’s just discovered a new toy. “And what exactly does this punishment entail?”

“Whatever I want it to.”

If Ray took Sand’s pants off now, he would see that his erection hadn’t flagged in the slightest. That it had, in fact, grown. “So my punishment is that you have to do all the work for once?” Sand teased. “However will I live?”

Ray smirked. “Oh, that’s cute. You think this is going to be easy for you?”

Sand frowned, sensing that maybe he was missing something, but before he could try to figure out what exactly it was, Ray lunged forward and kissed him. Immediately, Sand tried to reach for him, wanting to tangle his fingers in his hair and touch, but the cuffs held him back. That’s when he realized there might be some truth to Ray’s words. 

He growled in frustration, breaking the kiss to tilt his head up to try to find some means of escape, but Ray simply tilted his chin back down and kissed him again as if there had been no interruption. This time, Sand kissed him back, determined to prove that he could still do so adequately even without the ability to touch, but much too soon, Ray pulled away, a smirk still on his lips. 

“Having fun?” he asked. Then he reached for the buckle on Sand’s jeans. Sand immediately sensed that he was in danger. He had never been completely at Ray’s mercy before and he found the possibility simultaneously terrifying and thrilling. Sand tugged on the handcuffs again, but still, there was no give. 

“If you’re a good boy,” Ray said, nosing along the seam of Sand’s jeans, “this will go much better for you.”

“And what exactly does being a ‘good boy’ entail?” Sand asked through gritted teeth as Ray hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of his pants and pulled both them and his underwear off in a single tug. Once freed from its confines, his dick sprang up hard against his stomach, precome already leaking from the tip. 

Ray mouthed at his shaft, licking it clean, and Sand fought against his restraints once more. It was official: he would not survive this. 

Once Ray was done, he pulled off and the sudden influx of cool air against Sand’s wet cock sent a chill throughout his body. Ray didn’t seem to care about his discomfort. He glared down at Sand. “Stop pulling against the cuffs,” he said. “It’s loud and you’re going to hurt yourself. Just stay still and I’ll reward you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Sand replied. Ray wasn’t the type to give rewards freely. 

Ray threw his nose into the air as if Sand had offended him. “Well, you don’t have much of a choice now, do you?” he asked. Then he set to work kissing every bare inch of Sand’s body. 

Sand had never just lain still and let himself be loved before. Ray was impatient in bed and Sand liked that he was, so if anyone got lavished in kisses, it was Ray. Ray was the one who liked the attention and Sand preferred to give it to him rather than take it for himself.

But today, Ray took his time. And for the first time, Sand let him. 

It took every ounce of self-control Sand had to force himself to relax, but he did good. He didn’t pull on the cuffs. The room fell quiet except for the sound of Sand’s hitched breathing and the soft, wet kisses of Ray’s lips.

“Good boy,” Ray praised, looking up at Sand from beneath hooded lashes as he began sucking on the thin skin of his groin. “Maybe now it’s time for your reward.”

Sand’s first instinct was to say no thank you. He was sweating and trembling, his body already overstimulated, but it would have been like saying no to a sip of water after marching through the desert. He was parched and Ray was offering him relief. So he didn’t say no. Instead, he just lay there and watched as Ray, maintaining eye contact the whole time, slowly took his cock into his mouth.

Sand couldn’t help it: he jerked on the cuffs again, causing them to rattle against the metal bed frame, and Ray immediately pulled off of him with a disappointed click of his tongue. “You’re going to have to try harder than that,” he said smugly.

“Ray, please,” Sand begged. 

Ray seemed to like the begging. “Please what?”

Sand felt his cheeks heat and although the petulant side of him wanted to refuse Ray the satisfaction, the part that was still hard, the part that now knew exactly how good it felt to have Ray’s lips wrapped around him, was willing to do everything.

“Please keep going,” he said. “I’ll be good.”

“You better be,” Ray threatened, but he was a man of his word. He took Sand back into his mouth and swallowed him all the way down.

They had been together almost six months now, but Sand could count on one hand the number of times Ray had given him a blow job. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. It wasn’t even that Ray didn’t like giving them. It was simply that Sand preferred to give and Ray preferred to take—that was the dynamic that worked for them—but there was no denying that even out of practice, Ray still knew what he was doing. 

It wasn’t long before Sand was thrusting up into his mouth, doing everything he could to keep his hands still, to not rattle the cuffs and risk Ray stopping. He was so close, right there on the edge when—

Suddenly, Ray pulled off of him all at once, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and revealing a smirk underneath. At first, Sand thought he was just taking an ill-timed break and would resume his ministrations soon, but he didn’t. He just sat there and watched Sand squirm.

“Ray, c’mon!” Sand snapped, yanking on the cuffs for the first time in a while. “Why did you stop? I was being good.”

“Because,” Ray said matter-of-factly. “You’re being punished.”

Sand let out a cry of frustration. “I’m not sure the punishment matches the crime here.”

Ray didn’t answer him, but climbed back up his body to kiss his lips, to stroke his hair, to massage his wrists where they had started to ache. It was such a soft, loving contrast to the throbbing in Sand’s dick. Ray continued kissing him as he pulled off his own underwear, leaving them both naked, and when he sat back on Sand’s abdomen, Sand saw just how aroused he was. Despite the fact that Sand was the one getting his dick sucked, Ray looked just as hard. Sand’s dick twitched against Ray’s back at the sight and Ray pressed his ass against it in acknowledgement. 

“I’m going to ride you now,” he said, lifting up and situating Sand at his entrance. The tip went in easily and Sand could tell that Ray had already prepped himself for this. “You’re not allowed to come until I tell you to.”

“If you think I have any control over that—”

He broke off as his dick slipped easily inside Ray’s familiar body and for the first time all night, it seemed like Ray was just as overcome as he was. He didn’t even notice Sand slip up and pull against the cuffs. He just threw his head back and sighed as if this was the feeling he had been searching for all along.

“Ray, I’m serious,” Sand said in warning as Ray began to move, slowly lifting himself off of Sand’s dick and then pushing back down again. Sand bent his knees just slightly so that he could put the soles of his feet on the bed to give himself enough leverage to thrust and he did, taking Ray deeper. “I’m too close already. I’m going to come.”

“No, you’re not,” Ray said and he sounded so sure, Sand almost believed him. “Just a little longer. Please.”

It was the please that did it. It was always the please that did it. Sand had been conditioned to that word coming out of Ray’s mouth. All he ever wanted to do was make him happy. So as Ray began to ride him harder and faster, his dick bouncing against his stomach on every thrust, Sand tried to think of anything that wasn’t how devastatingly beautiful his boyfriend was. He tried not to stare at the pink flush on his cheeks, at the tattoos painted on his skin, and the sight of his own dick disappearing deep into his body. He wasn’t doing well, but he was trying.

Ray, however, was taking no mercy on him. He was doing some of his best work and despite the threat of “punishment,” Sand didn’t actually think he was trying to be cruel. He just seemed desperate, clenching his body tight around Sand’s dick with each thrust, burying his face in Sand’s neck, whispering words of affirmation into his ear. “So good, baby. So good.”

And Sand was so hard, he thought it might drive him mad. “Ray, please. Can I come?” His muscles were twitching with the effort it took not to but still, Ray did not slow his efforts. In fact, he sped up. Sand groaned. 

“I’m close,” Ray said. Sand could tell that was the truth. His eyes were practically rolled back in his head and his dick was leaking precome, but Sand had reached the limits of what he could handle. He didn’t want to disappoint Ray, but he physically couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

“Ray, please—”

He didn’t even have to finish his sentence before Ray said, “Come for me.”

As if his words were some sort of spell, Sand did, coming deep inside Ray’s body as Ray did the same, stroking himself to completion and spilling his seed on Sand’s bare chest. That was what he had wanted all along: for them to come together.

Sand was still breathing hard when Ray climbed off of him. He grumbled as the cool air touched his skin. It was too soon. He wanted to cuddle. But before he could voice that desire out loud, Ray grabbed a small metal key off of the bedside table and reached up to undo the handcuffs. 

The cuffs were barely off of Sand’s wrists before Ray was massaging the ache from his muscles and wrapping him in a hug, all traces of anger or frustration gone. He curled into Sand’s body like he was the one who needed to be held.

“What was all that about?” Sand asked with a small laugh. His voice was hoarse and he found that he was exhausted. It was late and there was nothing he wanted more than to fall asleep in his lover’s arms.

“I don’t know,” Ray admitted, his voice muffled in Sand’s chest. “It’s just that you’re always spoiling me. I wanted to spoil you this time.”

Sand snorted. “I think you need to work on your definition of ‘spoil,’” he said, but he stroked a hand through Ray’s hair to soften the words. 

“If I hadn’t tied you up, you wouldn’t have let me,” Ray pointed out and Sand realized he was right. It had never occurred to him that his obsession with putting Ray’s pleasure first might not be what Ray wanted. That it might, in fact, be stealing pleasure from him. It was just that he loved him so much and that was the only way he knew how to show it.

“Thank you,” he said, kissing the top of Ray’s head. “Maybe next time we can try it without the handcuffs.”

Ray smiled into his chest. “Up to you,” he said. “But I’m keeping them. And I bought a ball gag, too! Thought you might like the opportunity to shut me up every once in a while.”

Sand snorted and pulled his boyfriend closer, but Ray was wrong. There was nothing in the world Sand loved more than the sound of his voice.

[tragedybunny]

Absolution

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina have an argument and Astarion does what he thinks is necessary to keep her with him. Set before his Act 2 confession.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ PiV sex, oral sex, all occurring while Astarion disassociates.

༺Word Count༻ 2441

༺A/N༻ Although most of my reader fics are based my Tav, Serafina, and my experience playing the game as her, this is the first fic I've written featuring her as a named character. And it's my first BG3 fic in 3rd person. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to @satanicspinosaurus for the wonderful beta.

The scene from earlier plays over and over in his mind. 

“You don't know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” Sera, sweet, kind, gentle, patient Serafina, had yelled at him. Not once since they'd met on that beach had their erstwhile leader even raised her voice slightly at him. And today she shouted at him. All because she couldn't read Elvish and he'd reacted with the same humor she’d claimed to enjoy. Turning it on him as though he’d been the one in the wrong. 

They'd been seated around the fire while Wyll took his turn “cooking”, going through some papers and books they'd found in the wake of a goblin attack. They were looking for any clues into the cult's movements or plans. Sera had plucked a small, neatly bound journal from the pile and turned it over in her hands. It was a thing clearly well-made and cared for. She'd opened it gently, respectful of the fine binding holding it all together. 

Her brilliant blue eyes had scanned a few pages before she gave out a frustrated sigh. “Elvish,” she muttered, snapping it shut violently and thrusting it at Astarion. “You'll probably have better luck with that.”

He wasn't sure why he did it. The half-elf’s reaction was disproportionate to simply encountering a foreign language, that was obvious. Maybe it was because he’d become too used to teasing her since they’d started their “relationship.” Their easy back and forth banter giving him the foreign feeling of acceptance. 

 Or maybe it was his own way of trying to deny those irritatingly tender feelings that had started to creep in whenever he caught her glancing his way or their hands touched, or she laughed at one of his jokes. The need to push back against them, sharpening his tongue and drawing out ancient bias. 

Whatever caused it, he should’ve thought before opening his mouth. “Can’t read Espruar? Someone got forgotten by one parent. Is that why you threw a tantrum and ran-”

“Shut up!” Sera leapt up from the log she’d been seated on and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” 

With that, she’d stormed off and left him silently stunned, as though awaiting a reprisal that didn’t come. Around him, their companions pretended to look away and he caught a few whispers on the air. “What are you all looking at? It’s not my fault she suddenly can’t take a joke.” He’d sulked off to his own tent, waiting until her tantrum had passed and everyone forgot his misstep. He’d assumed Sera would cool down and come out for dinner, but instead she’d remained stubbornly locked away. Karlach had brought her a bowl of what they were generously calling stew. 

Everyone had eaten and retired for the evening and she was still pouting. Which brought him to now, slinking his way across camp toward her tent. He had to do something, he couldn't watch his hard won protection slip away. It absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that Sera gave him a little kiss and wished him goodnight every other night lately and it had been noticeably withheld tonight. 

The way the moonlight filtered through the trees, one solid beam pointing down on her tent, a poet might say that Selune was guiding him. Poets were idiots. Parting the flap just the smallest amount, he starts to slip inside, intent on waking her to settle things if he needed to, when a sound stopped him. A strangled cry, was it directed at him? He froze, half inside, the errant moonbeam that slipped around him haloing her with soft illumination. 

Another wordless cry. Only a nightmare, nothing to be concerned with. Stepping in, he lets the tent shut, plunging them both back into darkness. With a predator’s stealth, he approaches her bedroll, kneeling down, eyes subconsciously glancing at the healing puncture wounds on her neck. 

“Let me out.” Her sudden words startle him. 

Stumbling backwards, he nearly loses his balance to go sprawling across the floor. His skin suddenly heated, as though the breath that carried those words could burn him. 

Another sob comes as she thrashes around a bit. “Please, I won't run,” unintelligible sounds follow the small plea. “Let me out.” 

Locked up. She'd been locked up too. Regaining himself, he crept toward her again, as she shook and cried. Someone had hurt her. But who would want to do that?

She was Sera, unfailingly kind; who aided refugees, saved children, fought monsters, and foolishly fed manipulative vampires.  

The sobbing becomes frantic and without thinking he reaches out to gently grasp her shoulder. “Sera,” she struggles against his touch with a whimper. Growling in frustration, he shakes her a little more roughly. “Serafina!” 

Eyes snap open to behold him with wide pupils as her chest heaves. “A-Astarion?” Sitting quickly, she pulls away from him, and he feels a sudden sting in his chest. “What are you doing here?” She hisses, apparently still angry with him. 

“You were having a nightmare.” He replies, trying to soften his voice, to be the lover she had come to expect. 

“Hmm,” her eyes focus across the tent to an empty lantern, “fiat lux.” Small little motes of light appear in the lantern, swirling gently in their prison, as Sera draws her knees up to her chest. “Well, I'm awake now, you can go.”

The forlorn gaze and empty voice were nothing like the Serafina he'd come to know and the unsettled sensation in the back of his mind grows. He cleares his throat, trying to get the words moving. “I didn’t come just to wake you up, I wanted to…apologize. For earlier. I’m sorry, the joke was in poor taste.” 

Turning her head, she glances his way from where it rested on her knees. She looks so small like this, so far from the fierce woman who’d led them from the moment of the crash. “Apology accepted, I probably took it too personally.” 

It didn’t quite ring true, but he plows on anyway, hoping maybe those blue eyes would light back up for him. “The truth is, I’m actually a bit rusty with Espruar myself. But maybe I could teach you and it would be good practice for me.” He affects the warmest smile he could, sure the gesture would win her over.

Instead, she shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t actually matter all that much. Thanks for the thought though. You can go, I’m not still mad at you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That was not his Serafina. He has to do something, to fix this. To keep her on his side. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his lap, lips closing over hers. “What’s this about?” She huffs as her skin began to flush a pretty pink. 

“Pleading my apology some more,” his voice drops to the low sultry tone that made her pulse jump in a way he could hear. 

“I said you were forgiven.” Despite her protest, her arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer. 

“Your words said that, but your eyes spoke differently.” His lips trace a line of kisses from her lips to the lobe of her ear, making her sigh. 

This was what he could do for her, what he did best. It was a skill honed by two hundred years of unwilling practice, and like so many before, a skill she was willing to make use of. At least it was easy enough with Sera, she was sweet and gentle, and he knew she'd never harm him. And it wasn't as though a part of him didn't want her, she was a pretty little thing. That part was just bound up with all the other parts that hated what his body had been used for. If he had to open his pants for anyone, he supposes he was glad it was her. 

“I meant it, but- gods Astarion!” He runs his tongue along the point of her ear, less sensitive than his, but still enough to start driving her mad. 

“In that case, we'll call it making up for my behavior earlier.” Guiding her to face him, legs straddling his, her warm core settles against his hips. He kisses his way back down to her throat, already feeling his mind growing distant from his actions. 

Lips linger near the marks on her neck, and she squirms in his lap. “Do you want to?” 

He could never say no to that offer. Without hesitation, his fangs sink into her flesh, and succulent liquid pours into his throat. It adds to what little pleasure he’s able to wring from what he was about to do. Sera whimpers and writhes in his lap, grinding down on his growing erection. She hadn’t started out allowing him to feed on her as some form of pleasure, but she had given him her neck as often as the rest of her body, and the two had become inextricably tied together. 

Just a sip for tonight, after everything that had happened, he couldn’t ask too much. Too soon he pulls his fangs away to lap at the remainders and kiss the wounds. Blood and a distant mind, this was good as it would be for him. “Let's get this out of the way.” Fingers grip the hem of her shirt and guide it over her head. 

She shivers as the night air caresses her skin and leans into him. It was almost enough to make him laugh, there was nothing about him that could provide any warmth. Instead he continues kissing his way down her chest, nipping lightly until her back arches into him and she makes a needy noise. 

“Patience,” he chides her, releasing his grip on her to remove his own shirt. 

Hands encircle her waist in an iron grip, holding her firmly in place while tongue and teeth tease her rosebud nipples. Fingers trace his back as she pants, trying to contain all the noises that could wake the camp. Her nails ghost along his flesh, and he senses she longs to dig them in.. She hadn’t even attempted to ask about it. Why did she afford him such gentleness, was she wary that it would be too much on his scarred flesh?

Lips leave off her hardened peaks to capture hers again, and she grinds against him even harder. No doubt her small clothes were soaked. “You drive me mad,” she whispers, lost in desire. 

Just as he’d wanted, Serafina, hurt feelings and nightmares forgotten. “You enjoy it.” He captured her lip between his teeth for a second and nibbles. “Stand up, take your pants off for me.” He awaits her on his knees, as a penitent seeking their absolution. 

She’s so occupied, she doesn’t notice as his gaze finds the dancing lights in the lantern, and watches them swirl aimlessly until she’s naked before him. Gripping her thighs, he pulls her in, holding them apart so his tongue can swipe along her sex, as soaked as he predicted. Sera’s not a bard, but she sings for him anyway. Fingers grip into his curls, not too tightly. Sometimes he wishes she wouldn’t be so damn gentle, that she'd be like everyone else, someone easy to use, instead of, whatever all this was. 

“Astarion,” she keens as he slips two fingers inside her, tongue running over her clit. 

He laps and suckles at it almost as fiercely as he does the wounds he leaves in her neck. The fingers inside her find the spot that causes her knees to buckle and another cry to leave her. She’s close, just a little more, and he could leave it for the night.  

“I want you inside me.” He stiffens, inhaling deeply. 

“Do you now, my sweet?” He nips her thigh playfully with his fangs while his stomach drops. “Then come down here.” 

As soon she hits her knees, he's positioning her on all fours, he can’t look her in the eyes right now. He tears his pants open, eyes finding the lights again, concentrating on them as he pushes inside her. She’s warm and wet as she pushes back against him, eager to have all of him. Because she chooses him. No matter how many of his rough edges and dark corners she finds, she wants him. Would she still want him if she saw it all?

Forget it, he tells himself, pushing that thought away. He clears his mind until there’s only the moment, the sensation left, hips slapping against hers, the way her body clenches around his cock, how she eagerly sucks the fingers he puts in her mouth so she has something to absorb the moans. 

It’s almost enough to completely lose himself, his cock twitches. It’s spectacular, the way she meets every thrust and takes everything he has to give. “Touch yourself,” he urges, eager for her to come undone. 

Her own fingers slide between her folds, working feverishly. It’s not long before the noises muffled by his fingers become frantic and she tightens around him. 

“That’s it, my darling, let go.” With another deep thrust, he allows himself a release. “Sera,” he gasps, knowing it will please her to hear her name on his lips. 

They collapse next to one another on the bedroll, Sera quick to snuggle up in his arms. It takes longer than it should to embrace her, his body wanting to run. “Is everything alright?” She asks, innocently, from where she lays, head on his chest. Maybe there are merciful gods, she can’t see his face. 

“Of course, love. I think I may have worn myself out after all the walking today.” Softly, he kisses her head, he can’t let her suspect. 

“Well don’t complain tomorrow, Lae’zel will blame me for sure. I don’t think I was very discreet.” She laughs, sounding like sleep is already returning to her. 

“But you are to blame. If you weren’t so irresistible.” He tries to laugh as well. This stupid, sweet girl, why does she lay in a monster’s arms and giggle? 

With a yawn, she gives him an out. “You should probably go, I’m going to fall asleep soon and don’t want to trap you here.” 

One more kiss, even as his mind insists on fleeing. “Goodnight my love, rest well, and I’m sorry again.”

“For what?”

“For earlier.” For everything. 

Tag list:

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 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

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@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @volotramp @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary

[steddieas-shegoes]

Nother idea: 8 years later, Tommy & Carol apologizing to Steve for their behavior. & for immediately abandoning him when they knew he needed them most.

But Steve has people now who have shown him love, family, true friendship. And while he forgives them its not the same. He doesn't trust them. He is thriving without them.

But Carol realizes that the reason it isn't the same is bc Steve genuinely believes that they don't mean their apology. So she & Tommy actually discuss it and find a way to clear up any misunderstanding & ensure he knows they mean their apology. It works, it takes time & effort but they are once again his friends.

MY LOVE!!! STEVE REALIZING HE'S LOVED AND DOESN'T NEED HIS SHITTY EX FRIENDS CREW STAND UP!!!! I had the opportunity to really give Steve his shining moment and yell at them, but I decided that Steve would just be kind of over it, like they aren't really worth yelling at. Steve didn't do all this personal growth just to let them back in so easily, but luckily he isn't the only one who changed. You know I had to involve Eddie, of course! - Mickala ❤️

-----------------------------------------------

It was too fucking early on a Saturday morning to be woken up by the buzzer of his apartment.

Whoever it was was lucky that Eddie had to go into work today or he would be committing murder at their door.

He glanced at the clock on the microwave, 10:47, okay, so not that early.

They’d had a late night, okay?

If he had a limp to show what they were up to, that was his business.

“You can leave the package in the box, I’ll grab it soon!” Steve said into the mic, hoping it was just a delivery.

“Steve? Is that you?”

He recognized the voice, though he wished he didn’t.

Eight years was a long time to go without talking to someone who used to be your best friend, but when you’d been best friends for so long, certain things couldn’t be forgotten.

“Tommy?”

“Uh yeah, man. I’m here with Carol. We actually were hoping to talk to you?”

He looked down at his almost naked body, only Eddie’s boxers covering him.

“Sure.”

He buzzed them in, not giving them any clue where he was so they would take their time getting to his door. He had to throw on clothes, brush his hair, and try to look like he hadn’t just been asleep.

He rushed to the bedroom, throwing on the first pair of jeans he saw and a t-shirt from the floor. He heard voices down the hall as he was heading to the bathroom, his hands shaking with nerves as he tried to rush to brush through his hair.

“It can’t be that Munson, though, right? Even Steve wasn’t a fan of him in school.”

Steve grimaced at Carol’s voice.

Technically, Eddie worked a half shift when he had to work Saturdays, which meant unless they were only stopping by for a few minutes, he would probably be home while they were still here.

Tommy had always hated Eddie. No one could really figure out why. Sure, a lot of people said nasty things about and to Eddie in high school, but no one else really put their hands on him the way Tommy did.

Eddie joked it must have been because he liked him, but Steve thought maybe he just had a lot of displaced anger.

At least that’s what he thought when he became a counselor and understood a lot of psychology behind why people did things.

Eddie laughed and said, “don’t overthink it, some people are just bullies.”

But Steve liked to think maybe Tommy was more complicated than that, liked to explain away his worst qualities so it made it easier to accept that he was once best friends with him.

Eddie laughed about that too, and said, “kids are stupid, and sometimes we find friends in people who make us feel better about ourselves, but you grew up.”

Steve shook his head, not wanting to think more about it.

He opened the front door, the ghosts of his past standing there, hardly aged, hardly any different at all.

“Come in, guys. Um. Sorry, I wasn’t really expecting anyone.”

They all awkwardly laughed as Tommy and Carol made their way inside.

The apartment was small, cheap rent kept them there so they could save up to buy a house outside of town in the next few years, maybe work on starting a family if they could.

They’d talked about it over the last couple of years, once Steve was settled in his job at the school, once Eddie got promoted to general manager at the shop, they’d save for a few years, have a decent down payment, start looking for a house with three or four bedrooms. Start looking into adopting. Maybe get a cat.

But to do that, their apartment was cozy, as Eddie liked to say. One bedroom, one bathroom, kitchen and living room area all one room, a tiny storage closet. They didn’t even have their own washer and dryer, which reminded Steve that he had to take their laundry downstairs and get it started soon.

Tommy and Carol looked around, but hid any emotion on their faces.

He gestured for them to have a seat on the couch, which was a hand-me-down from Wayne when they moved in. It was “too much” for his space when Eddie moved out.

They sat, though they didn’t look very comfortable.

Steve sat in the rocking chair Eddie bought, the first thing he bought for their “eventual home”, but didn’t rock as he took them in.

He originally didn’t see any proof of them aging, but now that he was looking closer, he could see Tommy’s already-receding hairline, Carol’s wrinkled by her eyes, both of them just a little softer in the face and stomach.

They looked incredibly human like this, like they weren’t some high school king and queen who only cared about how they look and what parties they could go to every weekend.

It helped Steve relax a bit.

“Not to be rude, but uh, how did you guys find me?” Steve asked, not sure he even really cared.

“We moved here to Chicago about six months ago, Tommy’s gonna run his dad’s office here starting next year, so he wanted to ease into it. I started job searching a few weeks ago for a teaching position and I noticed you worked at the school I interviewed at. We looked you up and decided we wanted to come talk,” Carol always was a bit of a rambler, always annoyed Steve when she started in on something that really didn’t matter much.

Carol nudged Tommy, who had been staring wide-eyed at Steve since he sat down.

He cleared his throat and nodded.

“We actually came here to make things right. We were best friends for years, and then one bad thing happened and we weren’t anymore. I know I fucked up with everything. We shouldn’t have treated Nancy like that, or you like that, and we’re hoping you could maybe accept our apology.”

Steve stared at them.

“We were kids. We did stupid shit. We’ve all grown. I mean, look at you! Your own apartment in the big city!”

As if he had been waiting for a cue, Eddie walked in the front door, his oil-covered coveralls already coming off. Steve made the rule after he came home one day to see oil stains on the bed sheets where Eddie had fallen asleep after working from open to close: coveralls come off as soon as he’s in the door and they go straight to the laundry room.

“Jesus, sweetheart, this is the last Saturday I cover in the shop. At least until I hire some competent mechanics. I think I did most of the work all morning. And after doing most of the work last night, I-”

“Eds! We have company!” Steve rushed out, his face bright red at what Eddie was implying.

It’s not that he really cared about what Tommy and Carol thought; Once they realized Eddie lived here, it wouldn’t be difficult to come to the conclusion that they shared a one bedroom apartment because they were together. He didn’t even care if Tommy and Carol were disgusted by him for it.

But he’d be damned if Eddie felt uncomfortable in his own home, especially if they started saying shit to him reminiscent of their high school days.

He watched Eddie turn around, recognize the people on the couch, and turn to Steve with a questioning look.

“Tommy, Carol, you remember Eddie,” Steve said, not breaking eye contact with Eddie.

They were having an entire conversation with their eyes, Steve begging Eddie to just go get cleaned up, Eddie begging Steve to explain what was going on.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed as he looked between them, Carol’s eyes stayed pointed at Eddie.

“Munson?”

“The one and only!” Eddie said, his voice pitching just a bit higher, naturally going to his over the top self to protect himself from whatever they would say.

Steve loved every version of Eddie: the performer on stage, the performer with friends, the soft version of himself that only Steve got to see, the protective version that would fight the world to make sure his loved ones were safe.

He was lucky to have every part of Eddie, even the parts that may not always be the best.

But his least favorite thing was seeing Eddie go into this mode, the one that kept him safe during school, when kids were mean, adults were mean, life was hard.

He didn’t want that for Eddie anymore.

“You guys…live together?” Tommy asked, looking back to Steve for confirmation.

Steve rolled his eyes. Tommy apparently didn’t gain any intelligence over the years.

“Yes. We’re together.”

From the look on Eddie’s face, he hadn’t expected Steve to say that.

That was fair; it took Steve nearly a year just to come out to anyone who wasn’t Robin, scared that somehow everyone would hate him, hate Eddie, hate them together.

But it went perfectly, and Steve rode the high a bit too much. He came out to his parents a few months after, and that went quite a lot less than perfectly.

He was lucky he didn’t have more head trauma from it, actually.

So he kept it quiet, didn’t come out to any new friends he met in college, even after one of them came out to him. Didn’t come out to coworkers while he worked at a cafe throughout college to pay the bills. Didn’t even come out to the bartender at their favorite bar despite the rainbow flag that was hidden behind the bar in silent support.

It was only recently that he started to feel comfortable being more open, and only in the city, only select areas where he knew they wouldn’t end up hurt.

Eddie was patient, maybe more than he deserved.

So saying it outright to the two people who suspected and bullied Eddie for being gay in high school, despite it not even being confirmed then, clearly threw Eddie for a loop.

“Oh, like…”

“Yes, exactly like that.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for any response that would give him permission to kick them out of his apartment, their apartment.

But he saw Carol nudge Tommy again, pasting a smile on her face. It wasn’t completely natural, but it also didn’t seem fake.

“That’s nice, Steve. Have you been together a while?”

“Since ‘86.”

“Wow! Since the quakes!”

Steve nodded.

“Steve, can you help me with something in the kitchen for a second?” Eddie asked, his voice unreadable.

Steve hated it, hated that all of a sudden he couldn’t get a grasp of what Eddie was feeling.

It had been so long since he’d experienced this.

And a small part of him blamed Tommy and Carol.

He got up, wordlessly following Eddie into the kitchen area that wasn’t even separated from the living room.

“Not that I don’t love that you’re comfortable telling them, but um. What’s. What’s happening currently?” Eddie whispered as he tried to appear busy, grabbing a glass from the cabinet to fill with water.

“They came to apologize to me. For high school.”

When he said it out loud, it sounded a bit ridiculous.

“And are you accepting it?”

“I don’t think so. I think they’re only doing it to help themselves feel better. I’m not interested in whatever game they’re playing.”

Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder at the pair sitting on the couch.

“Need me to get rid of them? Just say so, sweetheart. I’ll kick them both to the curb.”

Steve leaned in and kissed him quickly on the lips, smiling as he pulled away.

“I got it, baby. Get cleaned up so I can hug you.”

“Just hug?”

Steve laughed as he walked back towards his spot.

“Or more!”

He focused back on Tommy and Carol, who were graciously pretending that they didn’t hear the conversation that happened less than 20 feet from them.

“So, we were wondering if you wanted to meet up for dinner, catch up? You could bring Eddie, of course!”

Of course, she said. Like they didn’t outwardly despise Eddie eight years ago. Like they were perfectly fine with him now, and fine with Steve, and fine with them.

“I think we’ll pass. Good luck to you guys in Chicago, though.”

He ignored the pang of guilt when he saw Carol’s face fall and Tommy’s eyes darted to where Eddie was closing the bedroom door and back to Steve.

“Oh. Um. Well, it would be our treat, if you’re worried about money.”

“I wasn’t.”

Tommy and Carol hadn’t expected to be shut down like this, but Steve knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t accept their apologies, and he wouldn’t expect Eddie to suddenly be friendly to people who tormented him for years.

“Okay. Well. I guess we’ll go, then.”

“Thanks for stopping by.”

He stood as they stood, walked them out the door, then closed and locked it behind them.

Steve made it to the bedroom before he felt the tears spring to his eyes.

Eddie was in the bathroom showering, so he hoped he could get it out quickly. He didn’t want Eddie to worry.

But unfortunately, once a few tears fell, it seemed like they wouldn’t stop.

He got back in bed, burying his face in the pillow so he could hopefully pretend to be asleep, but didn’t quite manage it before Eddie was walking back into the room.

He got in bed and silently pulled Steve against his chest, running his hands up and down his back to soothe him, not trying to use any comforting words.

“I don’t know why I’m upset about a stupid fake apology from people I don’t care about.”

“Stevie, it’s okay to be upset. They were your friends for a long time, and you still have a lot of hurt leftover from them.”

“I just wish things had been different then.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head, and as they lay there together, Steve realized this hurt would never quite go away.

—------------------

“T, I don’t think he believed us,” Carol said from the passenger seat.

“I can’t believe Steve’s with Eddie. Of all the people,” Tommy replied, not even acknowledging Carol’s words.

“They seem good together.”

“I guess.”

Carol knew Tommy had a crush on Steve in high school, they’d talked about it years ago when she found an old picture of Steve with a heart drawn on the back while they were moving the first time around.

She’d been caught off guard, but understood, and was fine with it when he explained it was definitely in the past.

And it was.

But a part of him was wondering how long Steve had realized he liked guys, and what might have happened if he’d just been brave enough to do something about his feelings before things went to shit.

He loved Carol, was happy to be married to her, and wouldn’t want Steve now, but still. The what-ifs plagued his mind on the drive back to their home.

“Are you jealous of Eddie?”

Carol sounded hesitant to ask, like she wasn’t sure which answer she would prefer because she knew either way, Tommy would be upset she asked at all.

“No. I’m not jealous. Steve and I would never have worked out.”

Which may not have been a great answer for his wife, but it was the truth, and they were always honest with each other if nothing else.

“Since I got the job at the school, maybe I’ll have more chances to convince him we meant it.”

Carol was good. Deep down she had always been good. But Tommy always managed to drag her down when they were young, convinced her she needed to be a mean girl to fit in with their group, kept it up through most of college before they finally realized life was better if you just weren’t awful to people.

“Yeah, maybe.”

—---------------------

So, a month later, when school started up, Carol began the task of showing Steve that they were truly sorry.

She would often leave notes in his mailbox in the office, usually just a “have a great day!” with a smiley face, or “let me know if you want to catch up over lunch!”

He never responded, but she knew he got them.

Tommy had issues with his car and took it to the shop Eddie worked at, nodding along to what he said and admitted he didn’t really know much about cars so he trusted Eddie to fix it.

It was entirely professional, but a small part of Tommy was satisfied when Eddie gave him a genuine smile.

—--------------------------

“Is it weird that they keep trying?” Steve asked one night while they were lying in bed.

“I don’t think it’s weird. I think maybe they just mean it.”

Steve pondered it.

Yeah, they must mean it. The old Tommy and Carol would have given up after he sent them out of their apartment the first time.

“Would you wanna go to dinner with them? Just give them a chance? It’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to forgive them.”

Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve’s slowly, softly.

“If you want to, then I want to support you. We’re all different now. Maybe we can look at who they are now instead of who they were, as long as they can look at who we are and respect us.”

“Yeah.” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Yeah.”

—-------------------

Steve left a note for Carol the following Monday: “Dinner at ours? Friday at 7. Bring a red wine and beer.”

She wrote back that same day with a bunch of smiley faces and a response that they would be there.

When Friday came, Steve was nervous.

He’d planned to leave work right when school got out instead of leaving at five so he could make sure everything was clean and the food would be ready on time.

Eddie promised to be home by six in case he needed help.

And when six arrived, Eddie walked through the door with flowers and a smile, and Steve relaxed.

Nothing would go wrong.

Even if something did, they would be in it together, and they would support each other.

They didn’t have to do this alone like they did all those years ago.

—-------------------

It became a thing: dinner every Friday evening, sometimes at Steve and Eddie’s, sometimes at Tommy and Carol’s, sometimes at a new restaurant in the city.

The first few dinners were stilted, full of apologies and awkward catch-ups.

Then it got easier.

They got closer.

Eddie and Tommy actually became closer than Steve and Tommy ever were. Eddie showed him how to change his own oil so he could “stop bothering him at work just so he could look at his sexy coveralls.” Tommy rolled his eyes, but was grateful to learn.

Carol and Steve would often bake dessert together, catching up on school gossip, the latest who was dating who always entertaining them just as it did when they were in high school.

There were still the occasional moments where Steve thought about how much they hurt him, and Eddie thought about how they might be teasing him behind his back.

But it was rare, and they usually talked themselves out of it.

They were the first people to find out when Carol was pregnant, and the first people to learn it was twins. Carol and Tommy were the first (okay, first after Robin) people to find out when their offer on a house was accepted.

Tommy ended up cutting ties with his father when he found out that Steve and Eddie were together and threatened to cut him off. Tommy had a degree, and now had years of experience under his belt, and wasn’t worried about finding another job, one where he knew he earned his position because of his work and not being the boss’ son.

And when Steve and Eddie were able to finally adopt a little girl in 2002, Tommy and Carol were at the courthouse taking pictures of the new family, their own kids already best friends with her.

[acourtofthought]

I’ve been seeing a lot of people saying how they don’t think Lucien and Elain are well matched as mates. I don’t know if I can agree or disagree with this yet. Because so far the only times we’ve seen them interact they’ve been dealing with trauma or they were being watched. Which is really awkward even without all the trauma, when you’re trying to get to know someone.

But we haven’t seen them interact alone, after moving past their trauma. So how can anyone say they aren’t(or are) well matched as mates.

I do like that they have similar past trauma with mourning past relationships and the lives they thought they’d have. And I do love how Lucien seems to only care about her well being.

Anyways, I love you thoughts and insights. And was wondering what your thoughts are. About them being or not being well matched as mates.

I do agree that having to watch certain interactions through the eyes of Feyre made things awkward because Feyre was doing her best to keep Lucien away from Elain and her clear discomfort with her finally needing to ask Lucien for his help after what the healer said was pretty obvious during the tea scene. That's not Elain or Lucien's fault, it's the fault of Feyre, Nesta, Mor, and Amren who were all standing around pretending to be busy with other things while encroaching on a pretty intimate moment. That's why the library scene between Elain and Lucien is one of my favorites, because they were more "real" with one another without nosy eyes and ears (at least to their knowledge). Clearly Elain was in a bad place and clearly Lucien was struggling with the fact that Jesminda did not turn out to be his mate as he'd believed for centuries but it was still a lot more of an emotional exchange than the others that we saw when Feyre and Nesta were in the room with them.

It's ok if you'd like to see more on page interactions between them before making that decision though but I think their lack of on page interactions is actually part of what solidifies how well matched they are.

Sarah has no issues writing a romance between two characters only to tear it all down. Feyre and Tamlin, Chaol and Celaena, Dorian and Sorscha, even a possible one between Chaol and Nesryn. She doesn't shy away from two characters feeling something for one another all the while she's planting little clues as to why they're not going to work in the end, why they're not matched the way she likes her endgames to be.

So why then has she written Elain as ignoring Lucien when she's finally begun to move forward from Graysen? If Elain's endgame person is supposed to be Az or someone else then what harm would there be in Elain interacting with Lucien so the reader can see exactly why they wouldn't work out and why she'd decide to officially reject their bond? A bond rejection isn't like a regular breakup, it's something that will trail the two people forever, the loss of the other half of your soul. Elain is absolutely free to reject Lucien but she should do so only after knowing exactly what she's dooming them to for the rest of their lives, knowing exactly who she's rejecting. Sarah could have easily written an Elain / Lucien storyline like Chaol and Nesryn, where we saw them spending some time together before their book but once TOD rolled around we had already begun to see what was missing in their pairing and why they both ended up with others.

Instead she has Elain saying nothing to Lucien for nearly two books. Won't talk to him, won't interact with him, nada.

If there is no chemistry between them then why the need for that behavior?

What is more likely is it's going to be impossible for them to interact without us kicking our feet and giggling every time they do. Elain is different from her sisters, the author has repeated it over and over. Yet Elain is in the same court surrounded by the same morally gray, hulking warriors as her sisters who ended up with two of the brothers. While Elain might have a physical attraction to Az, it's clear that when they do interact their banter / conversation falls extremely flat. While Elain is trying to spend time with Feyre, Feyre only thinks of her like a pleasant companion. While Nesta and Elain were once close it's clear that Nesta has always treated Elain like a child in need of protecting. I mean, Nesta and Feyre can't even imagine Elain having sexual thoughts or being exposed to kinky sex, that's not how you treat an equal.

Even without knowing what we know of Elain and Lucien, it's pretty easy to see that Elain is not truly compatible with anyone she's currently around and it's not for her lack of trying because she is making the effort yet neither her sisters, the wraiths, Az or any of the other bat boys bring out the best in Elain. At this point the only one who brings out the best of Elain is Elain herself. And if she's not truly compatible with anyone she's currently around and spending time with / interacting with, that logically means her people are elsewhere.

Lucien and Elain might not interact much but we've been given a lot on who they are as individuals.

First the author straight up told us that she once thought Lucien and Nesta would be together until she realized they were poorly matched and Elain took she and Lucien by surprise. That alone suggests that the author knows Elucien will be matched because she moved forward with them as mates, not Nesta and Lucien.

Sarah then freely offered up (not even prompted) where Elain and Lucien would go on vacation, that they're both happiest in nature. One could still argue Elain and Lucien won't end up together but I don't think someone can take away what she said about what makes them happy. Loving nature is a personality trait, regardless of who they're with. But if they end up with someone who loves nature just as they do it can only help their compatibility.

We know Elain is bothered by cruelty.

We know Lucien prefers his words to weapons though both Elain and Lucien will pick up a weapon to defend their loved ones if necessary.

We know Elain is happiest in sunshine.

Lucien, while an ally of the NC, is connected to the Spring Court and Day (Autumn too but I'm pretty sure that's not where his main story is headed), both courts associated with the warmth of the sun.

Lucien laughed himself silly when tricking Feyre into eating the berries.

Elain has now given multiple gag gifts at Solstice.

Both Elain and Lucien are emotionally sensitive, not afraid to show their tears and not afraid to express their love for their friends / family through words and physical embrace.

Neither Elain or Lucien blame others for the things that have happened to them, they often process their trauma internally.

Neither Elain or Lucien actively seek out revenge against those who have wronged them.

They both called Amren cranky at different times.

Sarah made it a point to tell us that Elain refused the Illyrian leathers and though Lucien had to wear them it did not mean he was choosing the NC.

We know both Lucien and Elain take care in their appearance, enjoying fashion.

They are both underestimated by those around them.

They both had loved but lost that love because of traumatic circumstances.

They both easily make friends and are said to be the only ones who truly enjoy parties / balls.

Elain doesn't want to be coddled or fought over and Lucien has only ever given her the space to make her own decisions, even stepping aside for her to go back to Graysen rather than "claiming" her which some fae would feel would be his right.

Sarah said her FMC end up with who they need to be with (not want), the one who offers their character the most growth and she wrote Lucien as being the first and only one of two (with Rhys later being the second) who gave her credit for killing the King).

Moving forward, maybe we'll see Elain and Lucien talking, really talking, and won't feel they're compatible. But honestly, I can't understand how anyone would think that because they (in my opinion) are Sarah's best laid out couple to date. She's had the time / books to build up their individual characters in a way she didn't with any other especially because she seemed to know early on the direction she'd be taking them and I think that's reflected in how perfectly matched Elucien seems to be. She's had the chance to lay out crumb after crumb telling us exactly why they'd be a match even if Elain hasn't let her guard down enough to see it yet but when she does I think they're love story is going to be the most powerful one she's ever written with two characters who are more perfect for one another than we've ever seen.

I think Elain and Lucien will not only be mates and lovers but best friends, more their own found family for two than we've seen from any other FMC. Feyre had the IC, Nesta had the Valkyrie and while I know we'll see friendships between Elain, Lucien and many others across the different courts / lands, I think Elain and Lucien will never find more connection, peace, and happiness - a place to truly be themselves, then what they find when it's just the two of them together.

[hbyrde36]

Shelter in Place

Chapter 1 here <-

Written for @thefreakandthehair - Lex’s Spicy Six Summer Challenge!

My prompt was : Hurricane

WC: 5703 | Explicit | Chapter 2/2 | AO3 link

Chapter 2

Steve wasn't sure he’d ever slept so well, at least not since the monsters came into his life. He still stirred a few times during the night, an unavoidable thing really when you’re sleeping on a couch that is definitely not meant to hold two grown men, but each time he woke still surrounded by Eddie’s warmth and the scent of his skin, he was quickly lulled back to sleep by the comfort of it. 

When morning finally came, Steve woke up alone. He didn’t think twice about it, there were any number of reasons Eddie would have gotten up before him. To get water, to pee, to relieve a stiff neck from the position they’d been laying in. 

Steve smiled to himself at the memory of them being pressed so close together as he stretched, letting out a big yawn. He buried his face in the throw pillow Eddie’s head had been resting on and breathed deeply, sure that no one had ever smelled this good to him before. 

A quiet clatter came from the other room, answering at least the question of where Eddie had gone. The kitchen. 

His back was to Steve as he entered the room. The power was still out, of course, but luckily the cooktop was gas. Eddie was heating water to boil on the stove, and had some sort of system rigged up to make coffee, with a strainer, a filter, and a couple of mugs. Steve wanted nothing more than to walk up behind Eddie, wrap arms around his waist, and hook his chin over the other boy’s shoulder, but he stopped short. 

That, he realized, was probably too familiar a gesture for this extremely new and undefined thing he felt brewing between them. Steve forced himself to reel it in. Yes, they had hugged and held hands last night. Yes, they fell asleep together cuddled up on the couch, but in reality they were friends now and nothing more. Even if Steve already knew that he really, really, wanted it to be more. He was skipping a step, they needed to talk about it. Eddie didn’t even know that Steve wasn’t straight yet.

He took a deep breath and pumped the emotional and physical brakes, remaining a few feet away as he softly said, “Good morning.”

Eddie visibly stiffened at the sound of his voice, which, in hindsight, should probably have been his first clue that something was wrong, but again Steve found it too easy to explain away. Not everyone was a morning person, and clearly, because he was still in the process of making it, Eddie hadn’t had any coffee yet. Plenty of people were grumpy before coffee.  

“Hey.” Eddie grunted, with a half-turn towards Steve, quickly going back to his task without ever making eye contact.

Steve tried to go on as if everything were fine and normal, though there was a kernel of dread beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. He rummaged through the fridge for the half-and-half and pulled the sugar bowl down from the cabinet.

“Did you sleep okay?” He found himself asking, like an idiot. As if he hadn’t been there right next to the guy all night, but he had to make conversation somehow. Why was this so awkward? 

“Yup.” Eddie replied simply, his second short and clipped answer of the morning. 

Okay, Steve mouthed to himself silently. Something…might be wrong here.

Possibly. 

He wracked his brain, wondering where things went wrong. He knew everything he told Eddie last night would be a lot to process, but he seemed to take it well enough at the time. 

Steve busied himself with making breakfast, anything to keep from standing in the middle of the kitchen staring longingly at Eddie’s turned back. Out again came his trusty cast iron skillet, and in no time he had an impressive plate of cooked bacon draining on paper towels. He felt Eddie’s eyes on him as he cracked eggs into the pan, one handed, because how else do you crack eggs when a cute boy you want to impress is watching?

“I don’t think I'd ever get used to that.” Eddie murmured quietly, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Steve looked up, grin already beginning to form before he caught sight of Eddie’s face. His eyes were guarded, mouth set in a tight, thin line. Steve’s heart sank, he didn’t understand. Did he go too far by staying on the couch with him all night? He shouldn’t have assumed that it was okay just because Eddie had fallen asleep on him. Maybe it made him uncomfortable, or maybe Steve was just over reacting. He fought to keep the smile on his face, hoping that if he acted like everything was fine, somehow it would be. 

After divvying up their simple breakfast, Steve traded Eddie a plate for one of the cups of coffee. They stood at the counter, neither making a move towards the table. It wasn’t that weird, Steve reasoned at first, he often ate breakfast that way, but with each second that ticked away in silence Steve got more and more nervous. He had this, admittedly irrational, idea that if Eddie ate his food then things would be okay.

He sipped at the cup of coffee he’d been given and watched through the corner of his eye as Eddie did the same. Steve nibbled a piece of bacon halfheartedly, wondering if it was all in his head. No, the air between them was thick with tension, there was no way he was the only one feeling it. 

Whatever the problem was, he wanted to fix it. He needed to fix it. Steve knew now that he wanted Eddie, and for a while last night he thought there was a chance that the other boy felt that way too, but maybe it hadn’t meant as much to Eddie as it had to him. That was fine, he would take whatever Eddie was willing to offer, and if that was only friendship then so be it. Either way they needed to clear the air.

“Are you..um. Is everything..uh. Is something wrong?” Steve stammered.

Eddie shrugged, and at first Steve thought he was going to leave it at that, but then the other boy pulled a face far more reminiscent of the way he’d glared at Steve when he first arrived, than the kind looks and smiles they had come to share in the evening.

“Oh y’know, Harrington, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like, It was one thing last night, in the dark. Emotions were high, you got carried away. I know how this goes. In the stark light of day though? There’s no way you’re okay with being that up close and personal with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.”

Steve cringed at the nickname, knowing he himself had used it to refer to the other boy before. God, he was an asshole. He was so confused though. It felt like he had been dropped in the middle of a conversation. Was Eddie mad? Did he think Steve was mad?

“I don’t understand, I mean. It's fine. I guess we’re both huggers? It's not a big deal, is it?.” Steve ventured, trying desperately to save this somehow.

Eddie rubbed roughly at his eyes, before waving a hand towards the living room. “I was only half asleep when you…before you got up to blow the candles out last night.”

Oh, Steve could almost feel the color draining from his face as he processed what that meant. Eddie had been awake, had felt him brush his hair back and probably knew he’d been staring. Fuck, that meant he knew Steve had kissed him. The tiny gesture had felt like a sweet thing in the moment, but now it made him feel like a creep. 

He opened and closed his mouth several times, reaching for what to say and coming up with absolutely nothing. The longer he took to respond, the more closed-off Eddie looked. Leave it to Steve to ruin a friendship before it’s even started because he had to go and get a stupid crush on the guy! 

Eddie scoffed. “Perfect!  Exactly the reaction I thought you’d have this morning! It’s okay, Steve, I won't tell anyone what happened or any of the rest of it. Look, I think I'm just gonna go. The storm has let up enough this morning, I'm sure I can make it to the trailer. It’s fine.”

It wasn't even close to true. Rain still hammered down outside, relentless and loud even on the asphalt shingled roof of the Harrington house. The wind had slowed a bit, but it still wasn’t anything you’d want to be caught out in. 

“No! You shouldn’t go yet. Not until it’s safe.” Please, I don’t want you to go.

Eddie shook his head.“You don’t want a reminder of your big mistake sitting around your house all day, so let me just do both of us a favor.”

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.” Steve begged.

Eddie sighed, rolling his eyes while resolutely refusing to look in Steve's direction. “You got caught up in your feelings after sharing your trauma and shit with me, and it made you do some things you never would have otherwise. Certainly not with another guy anyway, and now you’re regretting it.”

“Eddie, I didn't say any of those things.”

“Your face said it for you. You looked full-on panicked about it not two minutes ago!”

“Yea! Because I thought you were asleep and you weren’t! Now you know I was looking at you and that I kissed you! God I'm so stupid, and such a creep!” Steve rambled, covering his face with his hands, unable to keep looking at Eddie when he was so embarrassed. “I kissed you without your consent, granted it was on the forehead, but still. I’m so sorry, no wonder you want to leave.” He was horrified with himself.

Steve felt the air shift around him, as if Eddie had moved closer. He held his breath, waiting for the other boy’s response. Whatever it might be.

“That’s what's bothering you about this?” Eddie crooned, his warm hands wrapped around Steve's, forcing them down and putting the two boys eye to eye. “You thought I wouldn't want you to kiss me, that I'd be, what? Upset about it?”

Steve gulped, nodding. 

“I'm not, for the record, but why did you do it?”

The way Eddie was studying his face, Steve knew he couldn’t lie, couldn’t make up an excuse. Total honesty was the only way to move forward. It was almost as terrifying an idea as telling him about the upside-down.

“You aren’t what I expected you to be. I used to watch you at school, I didn’t know why at the time, although I think I'm starting to get it now. I thought you were loud, obnoxious, and ridiculous, and on closer examination you definitely are all of those things, but you also turned out to be this caring, funny, lovely, and amazing person. Not only have you made this storm bearable, but I had so much fun with you last night. When I freaked out you were so patient with me, even though I acted like a lunatic. You wanted to know what was wrong, and it felt like you actually cared about the answer. You listened. Then you fell asleep, or so I thought, in my arms, and I looked down at your face. It was like I was seeing you for the first time. You’re.. beautiful.”  

Eddie released Steve’s hands. He frowned at the loss, but Eddie quietly shushed him as he cupped his cheek. Steve shivered and slipped his eyes closed. The first warm brush of lips took his breath away, but it was the scratch of stubble on his chin, something Steve had never felt during a kiss before, that drew a low moan out of his throat. 

Eddie pulled back but didn’t go far, resting their foreheads together as he chuckled lightly.

“I’m sorry for assuming things and freaking out. I just, I thought you were..” Eddie trailed off.

“Straight?” 

“Yea.”

“So did I until about 8 hours ago.” Steve admitted.

Eddie blinked rapidly. “And you’re just…okay with that?”

“Sure. I mean, I almost died a few months ago, and last year, and before that. It seems silly at this point to get worked up about being, whatever it is I am. I just want to be happy, and make someone else happy too, if I can. What difference does it make really, if that person is a guy or a girl?”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Eddie laughed, grinning widely before pulling Steve in for another kiss. It’s a bit rougher this time, surer, and more demanding. It leaves Steve feeling breathless and more than a little weak in the knees.

He would have been happy to stay there kissing in the middle of the kitchen all day, but Eddie insisted that they sit and eat the breakfast Steve had gone through the trouble to make, even if the food had gone a little cold.  

-

Later, once the kitchen was cleaned up, the two of them naturally migrated back to the couch. Eddie laid against the arm of it with Steve between his legs, back pressed to Eddie's chest. He liked the way it made him feel small, even though he and Eddie were practically the same height. Steve liked being held, and found himself fantasizing about what it would be like to be the little spoon in bed. He wondered if he’d get to find out sometime with Eddie.

Neither of them were in the mood to play boardgames, or do much of anything but just be together. It should have been boring, laying there talking and sharing the occasional kiss. It was anything but. Steve hadn’t felt this settled or content in a very long time.

“Where are your parents, by the way?” Eddie asked, after a long period of comfortable silence. “You mentioned they were gone. I guess I was hoping for a heads up if there's a chance they could show up here soon. Don’t want to risk getting arrested if they come home to find the town freak in their house.”

Steve, who’d been playing with Eddie's hands, lacing and unlacing their fingers and twisting his rings around, stilled.

“You shouldn’t call yourself that.” Steve murmured. “No one else should either. I’m sorry, by the way, if I ever did or said anything…” He couldn’t remember ever personally giving Eddie a hard time, and given their current circumstances he probably should have broached the subject before now, but he hadn’t thought of it.

“You didn’t.” Eddie was quick to assure him. “Hagan hassled me more than once, but you never did.”

Steve relaxed, sinking further down into Eddie’s body and pulling his arms tight around him. “I’m sorry for Tommy then, there’s a reason I stopped hanging around with him and Carol, and it wasn’t because of the monsters and shit.”

“You're not responsible for other people's shitty actions, but thanks. I don’t mind the nickname though.”

“Why?”

“For one thing it’s true. I definitely am a freak.” Steve could feel Eddie’s smirk where it was pressed to the side of his head. “And it’s a hell of a lot better than the other f-word they could call me, so I figure, why not encourage it?”

Steve tilted his head thoughtfully. It made some sense, even if he didn’t like it.

“To answer your question, my dad travels a lot for work. He’s gone anywhere from a few days to a few weeks at a time. Mom used to stay home with me when I was really little, but by the time I was 5 they were hiring sitters so she could go with him. She didn't trust that he wasn’t out cheating. From 12 on I was mostly on my own when they would leave.”

“Sounds lonely.” Eddie guessed.

Steve sighed. “I used to pretend it wasn’t, but yeah. I was definitely lonely. It didn’t matter that my life was better when they weren’t here, what with my dad being the major asshole that he is, a part of me still wanted them around. I was just a kid who needed his parents.”

Eddie shifted, kissing Steve on the back of the neck and running fingers through his hair. “I get like that sometimes too. Not that my uncle ever goes anywhere, he just works nights, and with me being in school we live on opposite schedules. I know he’d be around more if he could though. We have breakfast together as often as we can. Well, breakfast for me, dinner for him, so we can keep up with what’s going on in each other's lives.”

“Why do you live with your uncle? If that’s…if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No, it’s okay, but I have to warn you that it’s not a happy story.” 

Steve turned in Eddie’s lap so they were now chest to chest. He wanted to be able to see the other boy's face while he spoke.  

“My dad got caught on a job. He used to steal cars for this guy who ran a chop shop in Indy. I guess he wasn’t too keen on the idea of spending another stint in prison, because he led the cops on a high speed chase that ended with him crashing in a ditch. The car flipped three times. The police report said they were killed instantly.”

“They?” Steve asked.

Eddie sighed, the sound held a strange mixture of sorrow and fondness. “My mom and dad might have been terrible parents, but they were disgustingly in love with each other. She rode with him on a lot of jobs. He called her his look-out, but I think they mostly just didn't like to be apart. It’s kind of fucked up to say, because it left me an orphan, but I always thought she was probably happy that they went out together. I got Wayne out of the deal though. He stepped up and took care of me, loved me like I was his own.”

Steve squeezed Eddie as tight as he could, burying his face in his neck. “Jesus, Eddie. I’m so sorry. I feel terrible for complaining about my own parents.”

“No, Stevie, don't do that. It’s not a competition for who had the saddest childhood, and someone else’s experience doesn’t make your own any less important.”

“Stevie?” It made him feel warm all over, and he couldn’t resist rubbing his lips over Eddie’s pulse point.

Eddie chuckled. “Is that all you got out of that?” 

“No, I think I get it.” Steve did get it, and he was touched that Eddie wanted to make sure he knew his troubles were just as important as anyone else’s, but the pet name was really doing something for him, and now he was distracted with tasting the skin of Eddie’s throat. He didn’t want to talk anymore.

Eddie sucked in a breath as Steve caught his earlobe between his teeth. “Really liked that nickname, didn’t you sweetheart?”

Steve whined. It was mortifying, but he couldn't have stopped the sound from coming out of him if he tried. 

“Oh, baby. I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

-

For what felt like hours, the two of them did nothing except make out. Steve desperately wanted to let his hands wander, to feel every inch of the other boy under his fingertips. The problem was, every time things got a little too heated, Eddie pulled back. Steve didn’t really want to push, he wouldn’t want to rush Eddie into anything he wasn’t into, or ready for, but he strongly suspected it was being done for his benefit. 

The next time Eddie put a stop to things, Steve studied his face. His eyes held the same heat Steve knew was reflected in his own. They were both more than half hard, had been for a while, and there was no hiding it when they were all but lying on top of eachother.

Steve smiled, tucking a stray hair behind Eddie’s ear. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Eddie…” Steve teased.

Eddie leaned up, pulling Steve with him so that they were sitting next to each other, and took his hand. “This is new for you, right?”

“I guess, technically.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, as if even he didn’t like what he was about to say. “Are you sure you’re even really gay, or bi, or whatever?”

Steve wasn’t offended, he could understand Eddie's hesitation, even if it was a little ridiculous seeing as they had already spent quite some time with their tongues down each other's throats.

He cupped Eddie’s face and swiped a thumb across his cheek, encouraging him to open his eyes. “I don’t think I really care about labeling myself, at least for now, but yes, I'm sure. I know how I feel.”

Eddie blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to freak you out or scare you off.“

Steve gathered up a little of his old cocky King-Steve confidence, and swung a leg over Eddie, straddling him.

“Do I look freaked out?” He asked, grinding down lightly into Eddie’s lap.

Eddie groaned, surging up to capture Steve’s lips with his own. He gripped him firmly by the hips and pulled him down hard, pressing their dicks together through the thin fabric of their sweatpants. Steve whimpered. He was painfully hard and aching, he knew if they kept going he could absolutely get off like this, rutting up against Eddie while they explored each other's mouths, but he wanted to try something. 

Steve slid down Eddie’s body, sinking to kneel in front of him on the floor. Eddie tried to hold him in place at first, until he realized what Steve intended to do.

“Can I?” Steve asked, hooking his thumbs into Eddie’s waistband on either side.

“Fuck.” Eddie gasped, looking down at Steve like he couldn't believe this was real. He nodded, adding his hands to Steve’s, helping to push the pants down around his ankles. 

Steve pushed lightly at Eddie's knees to part his thighs, allowing better access. His mouth began to water at the sight of Eddie’s hard length, red at the tip and leaking pre-come. His want for this boy was so strong that for a moment, Steve forgot to be nervous, forgot that he’s never done this before. 

His lips parted as he leaned in, tongue darting out to lap at the head of Eddie’s cock. The taste was salty and a little bitter, but Steve discovered that not only did he not mind, he liked it. He moaned, sinking down to take the first few inches of Eddie's dick fully into his mouth. 

Almost immediately Eddie’s legs began to shake. Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes, while bobbing his head at a slow pace, eager to see on the other boy’s face just how much this was affecting him. 

Eddie’s lip was caught between his teeth, and his pupils were so blown-out that it made his eyes look black. He was panting, and his hand hovered a few inches away from the back of Steve's head, unsure of its welcome.

The thought of Eddie forcing his head down, and maybe making him choke in the process was not something Steve would have ever guessed to be a turn on for him, but fuck if the idea didn’t make his eyes roll back a little. He palmed himself through his pants, desperate for friction and a little relief.

He tested it out himself first, taking more and more of Eddie down his throat until he hit the back of it. He choked a little but didn’t gag, and that was all he really needed to know. He reached out for Eddie’s hand and placed it on the back of his head, hopeful that he would understand what Steve wanted.  

Eddie wove his fingers into Steve's hair and gripped it tight, guiding him up and down on his cock. He hummed his approval, the vibration making Eddie moan and his breath stutter. Steve continued to rub himself through his sweats but it wasn’t enough. He shoved the front of his pants down letting his own cock spring free, and began to stroke himself in time with the bouncing of his head.

As Eddie quickened his pace and started to give shallow thrusts up into his mouth, Steve learned to relax his throat. He enjoyed the way he was not only pleasuring his partner, but giving up control to him too. It felt intimate in a way that sex had never been for him before. 

“Baby, I'm close.” Eddie choked out, releasing his hold on Steve's hair, giving him the opportunity to decide if he wanted to pull off, or swallow. 

Steve had been on the receiving end of enough blowjobs to know what felt good, and honestly he was so turned on by the whole thing that he couldn’t imagine letting up now. He pumped himself furiously as he hollowed his cheeks, sucking and and then swirling his tongue each time he reached the head. 

Eddie tensed above him, and his cock pulsed between Steve’s lips as he came hot and thick down the back of his throat. Steve followed him over the edge straight after, his loud moans muffled in his still full mouth.

Steve eased off Eddie carefully, knowing how oversensitive it could feel after, and sat back on his heels for a minute while he relearned how to breathe. 

Before he knew what was happening, Eddie had already hauled Steve up to cradle him in his lap. He tried to protest that he was a mess and there was no reason to get both of them sticky, but Eddie didn’t care. He pulled Steve to his chest and crashed their lips together, licking into his mouth like a man possessed.

Eddie broke the kiss only when they were both gasping for air. “That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Really? I wasn’t sure if I'd be any good at it.” Steve admitted, suddenly feeling shy. He nuzzled the side of Eddie’s face. 

“Good? Stevie, that was mind-blowing. I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

-

They were, in fact, a mess, and eventually Eddie agreed to move, if only because Steve started complaining about his shirt sticking to his chest hair.  A shower was unfortunately out of the question with the power still out, but they had two perfectly good tubs full of water upstairs. 

They decided to share the one in Steve’s parents room, it was big enough to hold them both as long as they let some of the water out so that it didn’t overflow. They took turns swiping a soapy washcloth over each other's skin, giggling when they’d find the other’s ticklish spots. Steve would have liked to linger, once they were clean, to relax and float in the other boy’s arms for a while, but the water was cold enough to break them both out in goosebumps.

It was nearing dinner time when they were finally dry and dressed. It probably wouldn't have taken so long, if only they could have stopped kissing for five minutes. 

Downstairs, Steve began to cook, as Eddie padded around the kitchen, lighting every candle he could find as the room grew dark. Steve knew it was their only form of lighting, but it also set an undeniably romantic atmosphere, and he had to remind himself more than once not to fall too hard, or too fast. 

Because he didn’t know what this was, this thing between him and Eddie. Was it just a fling, or an extended one night stand? The last thing Steve needed was to get his heart stomped on again by a pretty brunette with curls, but he was afraid it might already be too late to protect himself from that. 

It didn’t help matters much that Eddie kept wrapping himself around Steve from behind as he stirred a pot of sauce, whispering in his ear about how gorgeous he looked when he flaunted his prowess in the kitchen. All he could do was hope that Eddie wanted to keep him too.  

They ended the night sprawled out together on Steve's bed in nothing but their underwear. The house had grown increasingly warm as the day went on, but it was still raining too hard to open the windows. The heat didn’t stop Eddie from wanting to cuddle though, a fact which Steve was both grateful for and wary of. How would he ever be able to sleep alone again after spending two nights wrapped up in Eddie Munson? He should have put himself out of his misery and just asked Eddie what they were, what he wanted, but he couldn’t make his mouth form the words. Instead he turned, giving Eddie his back and finally fulfilling his dream of falling asleep as the little spoon. 

-

Steve woke up first, happy to find Eddie's arms still wound tightly around him. He wondered what had disturbed him, thinking vaguely that he might have heard something like a car door slam in the distance, but the weight of Eddie's body collapsed halfway on top of his, was enough to dissuade him from investigating. 

He had almost fallen back asleep when his bedroom door burst open. 

“What the hell, Steve!” Dustin shouted, sounding appalled and indignant.

Steve tensed, he was facing away from the door, with Eddie behind him, but there was no mistaking that voice. Eddie stirred, and Steve hastily reached down for the sheet, pulling it up over both of them. He eased himself out from under Eddie and sat up, rubbing his eyes and tried not to panic.

“Dustin, what are you doing here?” Steve groaned. He knew the moment Eddie was fully awake, as he sat up too, resting a reassuring hand on his lower back.

“The storm is over so we came back early. I made my mom drive me over to check on you, she’s waiting out in the car.  I wanted to make sure you and Eddie hadn’t killed each other!”

“Clearly we’re fine, Henderson.” Eddie quipped. He was trying to sound like his normal self but Steve could feel a tension in him that mirrored his own. They had no way of knowing how Dustin would react to them.

“This is so unfair! Eddie was my friend first!. Of course you had to go and usurp me, make him your boyfriend, and now both of you will only want to spend time with each other and you won’t hang out with me at all!”

Steve turned bright red at the word boyfriend, and had never wished harder that he had locked his fucking bedroom door. He looked at the kid and sighed heavily. “Can you at least get out so I can get dressed and then we’ll talk?”

“Fine.” Dustin said, stomping his feet like a toddler on his way out to the hall.

Steve glanced at Eddie. His eyes were soft, concern coloring his features. He didn’t know what to say or how to apologize for this. He felt like it was his fault that they got caught in such a compromising position.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Eddie offered.

“No, I got it.”

Now fully clothed, Steve stepped out to meet Dustin, leaving the door open just a crack behind him.

The kid didn’t give him a single second to try and explain before launching into interrogation mode.

“Is this why you wouldn’t Date Robin? Steve, are you gay?”

He could faintly hear Eddie snort from the other room. 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “I won’t date Robin because we don’t feel that way about each other, we have both told you this.”

“But you do feel that way about Eddie?” 

Steve bit his lip, knowing Eddie could hear every word they were saying. “Yea, I do. I’m sorry if that’s weird for you.”

“It’s a little weird, but not because you’re both boys.”

Steve was simultaneously relieved and confused. It was too early in the morning for this shit. “What’s weird about it then?”

“I’m just kinda surprised he’d go for you, to be honest. I mean, he’s so cool and you’re, like, our mom.”

Steve scowled as Eddie cackled from behind the door. He grabbed Dustin by the arm and marched him down the stairs, all the way to the front door.

He stopped before opening it, making sure his face showed how serious he was about this. “Can you promise me you’ll keep it to yourself? Hawkins is not really the safest place to be out, and it’s… really new.”

Dustin sobered, all kidding aside for the moment, and nodded. “Don’t worry, I won't tell anyone. You two can do that when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Steve ruffled the boy’s hair and gave him a playful yet firm shove out the door.

“You promise you’ll both still hang out with me?” Dustin yelled over his shoulder, halfway down the front steps.

“I promise. Now go, don’t keep your mother waiting. I’ll stop over later.”

Steve waited until Dustin was safely back in the car before shutting the door and heading back upstairs. He was nervous to face Eddie after everything Dustin had said. Panicked that his use of the word boyfriend would scare Eddie off. 

All of the apologies he had at the ready died on his tongue the second he reentered the bedroom. Eddie leapt from the bed, quickly pulling him into his arms and kissing him deeply.

“So, boyfriend. Which do you think Dusty’s gonna be more mad about in the end, us dating, or me knowing about the Upside-Down?”

Steve grinned so wide his face hurt. 

“Definitely the boyfriend thing.”

Tagging as many of my pt .1 rebloggers as I can 💜

@steddierthings @every-aj-needs-an-angel @kas-eddie-munson @haircarebfs @penny00dreadful @corrodedbisexual @connected-dots-st-reblogger @bat-outta-hel @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @manda-panda-monium @wrayofmoonshine @stedumpsterfire @archimedes11 @estrellami-1 @pinkdaisies1998 @cam-cat-writer @current-steddie-brainrot @nebulousboundsfloof @notegwy @didyoujustsaydidhejustsaydragon @pxningfo0l @seths-rogens @idea-less-author @poguestyleskye @gregre369 @pjoneedstherapy @nightmareglitter @berenwrites @multimediawhxre @bennys-burgers @7shrewsinatrenchcoat

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 29 - Fatigue, “Who said you could rest?”

CONTINUATION TO DAY 23 more Warriors and Legend (and the dragon) time!

Lordy this got so long. SO. LONG. it was never supposed to be this long and that's probably why it took so long to write 😔 but I hope y'all enjoy this monster, I had a lot of fun with it :) And also LOOK AT THIS COOL ART it was one of the things that got me to finally finish this and inspired a good bit of it XD Thank you so much for the awesome art Maeson!!

Warnings: same as 23, whipping, animal abuse, arguably torture... bad times. A little nonconsensual touching, but nothing extreme.

Ao3 link

Day 23

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They’d been stuck here for days now, and Warriors was beyond frustrated.

Whenever the troupe’s wagons stopped, Legend was dragged out of his tank, his legs trembling underneath him from the prolonged time with a tail, and pulled outside somewhere to run through tricks or... something. Legend didn’t talk about it much. Half the time he couldn’t he was so exhausted from being beaten up at the slightest misstep, intentional or not.

Apparently their captors weren’t due to reach another town for a good week or two, so it didn’t matter that Legend had a split lip and a cut on his cheek. Those and the other small bruises on his face would heal before any customers saw him. As for the whip marks on his back, well, some scars made him seem more dramatic.

That’s what the horrible woman in charge had said anyway, and Legend had nearly bitten her hand in response.

Warriors had noticed his responses were growing more feral the longer he spent with a tail, growling when he was angry, warbling more when he talked, taking longer and longer to adjust to legs. Warriors tried to talk with him whenever they were together, and regular conversation seemed to help, but Legend was still struggling.

And Warriors still didn’t know how to get them all out.

He set his head against the bars of his cage again, watching a small spot of moonlight creep across the floor. It was nice that they’d parked the wagon so the window faced the moon for once. Usually all Warriors had to look at was either Legend or the baby dragon’s glowing eyes, which, while interesting, weren’t quite as good as natural light. And he was already feeling lethargic from the lack of natural light.

The baby dragon himself was snoring softly on Warriors’ lap, head tucked against his arm, and Warriors ran an idle hand over his scales, watching as they shimmered just a little at the touch.

Legend’s guess was that he was some kind of forest dragon, based on the colors and the fact that he’d never shown the slightest propensity for breathing fire. Warriors didn’t have any clue himself, but that felt right, and would explain the faint hint of trees and leaves he thought he smelled sometimes.

He really didn’t know much about dragons though. It was a little embarrassing.

At least Legend didn’t know all that much either— he’d pretty much only met the monstrous kind.

The dragon shifted a little at Warriors’ touch, and slitted open sleepy green eyes, blinking up at him. Warriors blinked back, and the dragon yawned and shifted around, snuggling up tighter against him.

“Ink?” he chirped, and Warriors shushed him, looking over at Legend. Legend was deeply asleep though, exhausted from his daily attempts at resistance, and he didn’t move.

“Go back to sleep, it’s not morning yet,” Warriors said quietly, but instead of curling back up, the dragon’s eyes opened wider, and he sat up, looking at Warriors and cocking his head to the side.

“Ink? A-rik?” he chirped, and Warriors paused, not having heard that last word from him before. The dragon’s vocabulary had been pretty much limited to ‘ma’ and ‘ink’ before now.

“...Arik?” Warriors questioned, and the dragon’s ears pricked, his face lighting up in the only way a dragon’s could.

“A-rik!” he chirped excitedly, hopping around on Warriors’ leg. “A-rik A-rik! A-riiik!”

“I don’t know what that means,” Warriors said with a frown, and the dragon excitedly chirped the word several more times. “Is... wait, is your name Arik?” Warriors asked, and the dragon preened.

“A-RIK!”

Legend stirred a bit at the shout, but he settled down again as Warriors shushed the dragon. Or Arik, he supposed. It sounded like a name, and just calling him ‘the dragon’ had gotten a little old.

“So, Arik is your name then?” Warriors asked in amusement, and the dragon trilled.

“A-rik! A-rik!” Arik chattered loudly, and Warriors couldn’t help his smile as he set a calming hand on his head.

“Okay okay, it’s sleepy time Arik, settle down,” Warriors whispered, and the dragon chirped again, snuggling up to Warriors. He happily blinked up at him as his eyes began to droop, and a content little sigh came from him as his eyes finally closed.

Warriors smiled and slid down to the hard floor, deciding to try and sleep the last few hours before dawn. He looked up at the ceiling, and his amusement at the dragon’s antics faded as he watched moonlight glint off the bars. Unease churned in his gut at the upcoming day, worry and dread mixing into an uncomfortable lump.

He’d spent all of his time in the cage so far, but he had a feeling that was going to change soon. The woman had been taking greater interest in him and the dragon lately, and he knew it would be their turn soon enough.

After all, they had tricks to learn.

Warriors breathed out, and closed his eyes. There was no use worrying about it right now. He would get some sleep, and reevaluate tomorrow.

The same thing he’d been telling himself every night he’d spent in this place.

(...)

Warriors woke up to frantic screeching.

He jerked upright and banged his head on the ceiling, adrenaline shooting through his veins. The warm weight was gone from his lap, Legend was growling, and Warriors whirled towards the cage door, stomach dropping as he saw the dragon being dragged out, his tiny claws scratching the floor.

“Ink!” he wailed, and Warriors dove for him, moments too late as the dragon was yanked out and the door slammed shut.

Warriors threw his weight against the bars, but the door didn’t budge, and he could only watch as Arik was bundled into a tiny cage with a loop for carrying on top.

“Leave him alone,” Warriors snarled, but the man ignored him, slamming the tiny door shut. Warriors clenched the bars so tightly it hurt.

“Wow, you really did get attached to it,” a familiar voice said, and the woman appeared, a hand on her hip. Warriors glared as Legend’s fins flared aggressively, and she waved a dismissive hand. “Oh relax, we won’t hurt it. So long as you all do what I want.”

“Which would be?” Warriors growled.

She smiled. “To learn your act. I’ve been debating about what to do with you while we’ve been training the merman, and I think I’ve figured it out. It’ll be a real show for the audience, I’m sure the crowds will turn out in droves.”

The mere thought made Warriors’ skin crawl, and he crossed his arms. The woman raised an eyebrow, and set a hand on the cage where the dragon was.

“And I’m sure you know what’ll happen if you refuse,” she said, and her voice turned threatening. “Mer scales would sell for quite a bit, no less ones from a dragon.”

Arik chirped in distress, the same noise Warriors had first heard from him, and he breathed out a hiss.

“Good,” the woman said as his shoulders lowered from their aggressive position. “Perhaps you won’t take as long to learn as your friend.”

Legend glared at her through slitted eyes, but he didn’t move from his place at the bottom of the tank. As much as Warriors hated that it was his turn, he was also relieved Legend would get a break. Maybe he could take the time to recover, and be able to put up more of a fight again. And they could both get out.

The door to his cage was pulled open, and the woman jabbed a thumb backwards, motioning for him to come out.

“Come on. And don’t try anything, or it won’t be pleasant for this one,” she said as she patted the dragon cage. Warriors silently scooted out, fury boiling under his skin as he stood up straight for the first time in days. He let them tie his hands behind his back without a fight, though he couldn’t help his flinch when a collar got pulled out. He forced himself to keep still though, the woman’s threat hanging over his head like a dark cloud, and she smiled as it was fastened around his neck.

“Lovely. It took us a good hour or two to get one on your friend, and it really completes the look. Come on,” she gestured, and one of her burly assistants shoved Warriors forward.

He nearly tripped, but followed without complaint, still fuming. He could stand humiliation. He would stand it, for Legend and the little dragon’s sakes.

This was an opportunity for reconnaissance, or even escape. Warriors had gotten nowhere with any of the plans he’d been working on, and being out of the cage was exactly what he needed. He glanced back before they left the small room, and met Legend’s eyes, tired and worried. Warriors sent him a cocky smirk he didn’t feel in the slightest, and Legend’s mouth twitched upwards just a little.

Then he was pulled out, and Legend was blocked off by the door slamming shut.

After days in near-darkness, the bright sun hurt Warriors’ eyes, but the warmth of it on his skin more than made up for it. He’d always felt better with some sunshine, and though Warriors was still tense and angry, he relaxed a bit. Sure he couldn’t see very well for the first little while of the trip, and the burly man had to keep shoving him along in the right direction, but at least he was outside.

Warriors’ eyes eventually adjusted, and he began to take in the sights. The rest of the place wasn’t much to look at honestly, at least the section he was in. A couple bright wagons parked in the grass, some people cooking food who leered and stared at him as he was shoved past. The town he and Legend has been in with the others was long gone, and Warriors saw nothing past the wagons but grass and open plains.

Are the others going to be able to catch up to us? Surely they’ll put together what happened, but who knows how long it’ll take, and they’re almost all on foot...

Warriors swallowed. He’d been betting on eventual backup.

A hand harshly cuffed his ear as he tried to peer around a corner, and after that Warriors kept his head down. But he still took in every detail he possibly could. He noted who had weapons and who didn’t, which people ignored him and which ones jeered, any small bit of information that could help.

And between it all, he kept an eye on the cage held in the woman’s hand, blood boiling whenever he heard a growl or whimper from inside.

They finally reached a large tent, a bit more sturdy looking with actual walls Warriors guessed could be collapsed to transport. He got shoved inside, and blinked as his eyes had to adjust to another change in light.

He almost wished they hadn’t. The mat on the floor in front of him had stains of what was unmistakably blood.

“I know a dancer’s body when I see one,” the woman began as she strode past him and into the middle of the tent, gesturing for her lackey to untie his hands. There were several other people inside this area practicing a few things, and Warriors recognized them from when he and Legend had been captured. “That along with your pretty face and the dragon, and we’ll have people lined up for miles to come see you.”

“You... want me to dance?” Warriors said in surprise, a little of the knot in his stomach loosening. He wasn’t the world’s greatest dancer or anything, but he could certainly manage. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“I want you and the dragon to dance,” she corrected, and snapped her fingers.

The man she’d brought with her opened the cage where Arik was, but before he could leap out, the man snatched him, and quickly bundled something over his face. A muzzle.

Warriors’ jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything, merely caught Arik when the man abruptly lobbed him over. Arik made a whimpering noise as he clung to his shoulder, and Warriors ran a quick couple fingers along his scales.

“I know, it’s okay,” he murmured under his breath, and the dragon pressed himself against him with a shiver. He wondered how many times Arik had already gone through something like this.

Probably too many.

“Now,” the woman said, smoothing a bit of the mat with her boot, “I have a specific dance in mind for you and the dragon. So long as you can do what you’re told, and get the dragon to behave, we’ll all get along here just fine.”

Arik hissed through the muzzle, and Warriors stayed silent.

“Your dance is about dragons, harmony, mystique, things that always draw people in. Fire, swords, spectacle. If you wow the crowd, intrigue them, they’ll always want to come back,” she continued, and smiled at him. “Take off your shirt.”

Warriors froze. “Excuse me?”

“Take off your shirt,” she said coolly, and when Warriors didn’t move, tapped an impatient finger. “Come on. Or I’m going to start plucking scales.”

Warriors glared at her, heart in his throat, but when she began to move closer he did as she said and pulled his shirt over his head. Arik slipped down to cling to his leg while he tugged it off, and Warriors hated the way his hands shook despite his best efforts to still them. The air felt cold on his bare skin, and Warriors forced himself not to wrap his arms around his middle.

He could feel everyone in the tent’s eyes on him, staring at his bare chest, and Arik hissed again.

You’re doing it for Legend you’re doing it for the dragon she’s just trying to make you uncomfortable—

“Not even a few scales?” the woman said disappointedly, raking her eyes across him. “People are going to expect scales from a half dragon...well, we can work with the scars at least. Maybe have some makeup done to make you look more exotic. But that can come later,” she said with a clap, her smile growing wider. “Let’s get started.”

Her whip suddenly cracked across his back, and Warriors gasped in shock at the sudden pain. She did it again, and Arik fled to Warriors’ arm as he stumbled, letting out a shriek of alarm.

“That was just a taste,” the woman said calmly, Warriors staring at her as his shoulder throbbed. “You do what I say, and I won’t need this at all. It’s your choice. Now let’s get to work, honey.”

Arik rushed back up to Warriors’ neck as she spoke, pressing tighter against him. His scales were cool against his skin, but not in a bad way, and Warriors glared quietly at the woman as the dragon trembled.

But he knew he was stuck.

The last thing Warriors wanted to do was learn any kind of act, and try to get a tiny dragon to go along with it, especially in front of these people. But he didn’t have a choice. If it was just himself at stake he’d fight against it with everything he had, but he wasn’t alone.

And Legend or the dragon being hurt wasn’t an option.

So Warriors lowered his head, ignored the smirking grins and eyes leering at him, and nodded.

(...)

It didn't get better from there.

After Warriors’ first training session he could barely walk, his shoulders shredded and muscles beyond sore. The entire thing had been brutal, and that was with Warriors attempting to cooperate. He knew now exactly why Legend had been so worn down whenever he returned.

Warriors may not have been a bad dancer, but the moves he was supposed to be learning were nearly impossible in most cases, and the woman demanded nothing less than perfection. If he didn’t get a step right on the first try the whip immediately came down, and he was expected to keep moving no matter how painful it was. A significant portion of his torso had been coated with blood by the time it was over, and the only thing he'd had in regard to treatment had been having a bucket of cold water dumped over him to wash it off.

At least he knew why she’d wanted his shirt off now.

Poor Arik avoided the whip at least, too small to be an effective target, but he was obviously terrified, and getting him to do what the woman wanted was nearly impossible, even with Warriors there. The tiny dragon didn’t do anything except cling to his arm, and occasionally growl at anyone who came too close, spikes raised threateningly. Along with the gouges that had been torn into Warriors’ shoulders from the whip, there were small claw scratches marring a good portion of his arms.

Warriors hated it, but he did his best to coax Arik along with the routine they were supposed to be learning. He barely succeeded. Legend had been right with his initial observation— Arik was a baby, and terrified on top of that. It was a miracle Warriors was able to get him to do anything.

Warriors couldn’t explain to Arik that it would be better if he just tried to go along with it. He couldn’t reason with him barely at all. All he could really do was try to make the woman take out her frustration on him rather than the little dragon when he messed up.

Which she did. Quite often.

Warriors and Legend began being taken out of their cages on alternating days, though sometimes when they stopped for longer one of them was taken in the morning and the other the afternoon. The longer they were there the worse the training seemed to get, and Warriors was at a loss of what else he could do.

The woman at least seemed to recognize she could only hit both him and Legend so much before they truly couldn’t move, but she wasn’t shy about other methods of abuse. She realized Warriors hated taking his shirt off, and made him do it every time he practiced, often with an audience. If one or the both of them messed up particularly bad, they weren’t fed anything, and more than once Warriors was kept up by Arik’s tiny stomach growling, and his sad mewls for food.

Even worse, a couple times the woman had actually gone through with her threat and plucked some scales from both Legend and the dragon, all while Warriors watched.

Legend had actually managed to bite her that time, which only got him several more scales yanked from his tail, but despite the blood dripping from his tail, he said later to Warriors that it had been more than worth it.

The woman had also been pressing Warriors about any dragon skills he had, and Warriors struggled with how much to tell her. Sure he couldn't do all that much, but he didn’t want to admit to anything. And a few things were unavoidable with Legend and a baby dragon on the line. But was it okay to admit he had night vision? Or would that only make escape harder?

He didn’t know.

But the woman had gotten a couple things out of him, and he started coming back with singed hair from her attempts to figure out exactly how fireproof he was.

Their situation was getting unbearable, Warriors and Legend both hit and beaten and treated like less than human on the daily, and it was wearing on them both, any escape attempts immediately shut down, any plans ground into the dirt.

Warriors had one idea left.

And if it didn’t work...

He wasn’t letting himself think about it. It would work.

But he couldn’t put it into effect until he and Legend performed, so Warriors did his best to keep his head down, preserve his strength, and try not to worry as Legend spent more and more time curled up and silent, and Arik’s happy chirps grew less frequent, both of their scales growing dull.

But finally the moment came.

One day the wagon never stopped, trundling along much longer than it usually did. Warriors' heart beat faster when he heard some shouts outside, and he realized they'd finally reached the town they were due to perform at. He rapidly went over his cobbled-together plan with Legend, and they built as many backup ideas as they possibly could into the idea.

Soon enough the wagon was stopped and the doors were open, and he and Legend were both were pulled out of their respective cages, Arik shoved in his own tiny one. Legend’s tail split back into legs again as he was dropped on the floor, and he collapsed when he couldn't hold his own weight.

Warriors tried to go over to him, but the usual group of burly assistants held him tight, dragging both him and Legend out. The only thing Warriors managed to do was brush against Legend’s shoulder, and Legend only flinched at the touch.

Probably because the only human contact he’d had for the past week and a half was in order to inflict pain on him.

They were both dragged out into the night, the moonlight mixing with that of the torches scattered around. Warriors heard the loud chatter of people, saw lights from a town nearby, and he craned his neck, trying to see any of the crowd he could hear. But he was bundled away too quickly, and soon enough he and Legend were hurried off into two small separate tents, Arik's cage dropped to the ground with Warriors.

Inside, Warriors was descended upon by a small mob, clothes shoved at him and makeup painted on his face, unfamiliar hands sprucing up and making adjustments and touching him all over. He briefly considered making a run for it, but Arik was still stuck in his cage, and he didn’t know where Legend had gone.

So he sat there and took it, even though he was really, really tempted to scream.

Warriors caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror as he was fussed over, and blinked, shimmering scales painted onto his cheeks, his hair ruffled just enough to make him look a bit wild. It... made him look a bit like his father, actually.

Huh.

Warriors didn’t have time to dwell on it though, as he was tugged back over and given finishing touches. He was just grateful the outfit he had on included a shirt, even if it was a thin, silky material.

His scarf was wrapped tastefully around his waist, and before he knew what was happening, he’d been shoved into a small waiting area, and the woman was reminding him of the cues they’d practiced.

“And don’t try anything,” she added, eyes narrowed. “I’ve got my men posted everywhere. If you so much as twitch towards the exit, I’ll know.”

“Yes ma’am,” Warriors muttered.

She nodded, and then went through the tent flap, cheers coming from the other side. Arik’s cage had been set beside Warriors, and he quickly unlocked it while he waited, the dragon leaping onto his shoulders in one huge jump.

“Hope you’re ready little guy,” Warriors said, and Arik let out a soft chirp, pressing his head against Warriors’ chin.

He heard the sound of splashing and gasps, then uproarious cheers, and assumed Legend was currently doing his act. The urge to charge out there and stop it all was strong, but Warriors waited, his plan pulsing in the back of his mind. It was messy, and had so many little things that could go wrong with it, but it was all Warriors had.

And it all rested on the prop sword currently in his hands.

Warriors twirled it nervously, testing the weight of the criminally dulled blade while Arik paced anxiously around his shoulders. A chime rang out, and the music outside changed, the cheers and applause growing dying down. Here we go.

“A deadly dance of sword and beast, I give you...”

Warriors clutched his fake sword, and stepped out through the flap of the tent and into the light.

“...the dragon man!”

Gasps and oohs went through the audience as he stepped out, excited faces and fingers pointing at him and the dragon perched on his shoulder. Warriors took a deep breath, ignoring the eyes fixed on him as he gave the room a quick scan, and saw Legend in a tank in the corner, tail lazily flicking.

Warriors let out a small sigh of relief, and began to dance.

He moved through forms similar to fighting, twirling his sword in a careful dance as music swirled through the air. Arik wove around his arms and shoulders with a whispered instruction, and the crowd oohed again as his scales shimmered in the light.

The moves pulled on still-healing injuries, and muscles that had been pushed too far. Keeping the smile fixed on his face was a challenge in and of itself, but Warriors was good at keeping his emotions close to his chest. Even if so much as spreading his arms out was close to torture.

The music slightly changed pitch, and Warriors sped up, whispering to Arik again. He was betting a lot on the little dragon, and could only pray that it would work.

Torches were lit around him by juggling performers, and Warriors drifted closer to them, heart thudding, palms sweating, the beat of the music thudding in his ears.

Then he twirled neatly around, and in one smooth motion, threw his sword right at Legend’s tank.

It may not have been sharp, but the fake sword was heavy, heavy enough to make a huge crack form in the glass. At the same moment Arik leapt from Warriors’ shoulders and knocked over the nearest torch, sending fire shooting towards the tent walls.

Legend exploded into movement as someone shrieked, and slammed his shoulder against the crack in his tank, breaking it with a resounding crash as water burst free.

The audience screamed at the noise and spreading fire, and people began to jump from their seats, rushing for the exit. Warriors bolted for Legend and quickly helped him up, Legend’s now-legs shaking violently.

“Nice throw,” he breathed, and Warriors nodded, giving his shoulder a warm squeeze as he began to drag him towards the exit.

Arik scrambled back onto Warriors’ shirt, leaping impossibly high. He gave Legend a delighted chirp when he saw him, and rubbed against his face as they hurried away from the shattered glass and spreading fire.

Legend gave the dragon a tiny smile, and petted him in turn.

The tent had fallen into chaos, people running and shouting and trying to figure out what had happened. Warriors heard furious yelling above it all, and he quickly pulled Legend out of the tent and into the dark night outside. He didn’t really have a destination in mind, just getting away was his biggest goal.

“Try the town?” Legend wheezed, his lungs obviously straining.

“I was thinking the woods,” Warriors replied, "better cover." Legend nodded.

People streamed around them, largely ignoring the three, but occasionally someone noticed them or Arik and shrieked. Warriors made sure to change direction whenever that happened, and Legend followed beside him, his legs still stumbling as he got used to them again.

Warriors kept his gaze scanning for any weapons he could swipe, but between the crowd and uncertain lighting, nothing caught his eye. Every time someone shouted he flinched, and Warriors could feel himself flagging, pain and exhaustion dragging his steps. The longer they fought their way through the crowds, the worse Warriors' anxiety grew.

They needed to get out of here now.

Arik suddenly let out a screech, and something slammed into Warriors, tearing him from Legend’s grip and wrapping around him as he was thrown to the ground. Legend shouted as Warriors struggled, and he realized he’d been caught in a net.

“I told you not to try anything!” a familiar voice shouted, sharp with anger.

Warriors peered through a hole, and his stomach dropped as the woman strode forward, her hair askew and face furious. The tent they’d set on fire backlit her in an eerie way, and Legend stumbled to put himself between her and Warriors, legs shaking as he held himself up, gripping the prop sword.

His face was equally furious-looking, and Warriors began tearing frantically at the net, trying to rip a hole in order to free himself. Arik had been trapped in it along with him, and his claws dug into Warriors’ chin as he thrashed and cried in distress.

“Ma!” he wailed, and as the woman drew her whip and one of her assistants readied another net, Warriors’ gaze clouded with fury.

He’d had enough.

His rage built in the back of his throat, heat rushing up through his chest in a strangely familiar way. His throat clenched so tightly Warriors thought for a moment he was going to throw up, but then he snapped his mouth open and fire blazed from between his lips.

The net broke from the heat and Legend stumbled backwards, his eyes wide as a huge blast of fire burst towards the woman and her assistants. Warriors heard panicked shrieks, and as his fire sputtered out and the remains of the net fell away from him, he bent nearly double as he coughed, throat spasming, his whole mouth tasting like smoke.

Okay yeah I’m not really built for that, good to know, he thought dizzily as Legend shook his arm, saying something he couldn’t hear over his hacking.

“Ink!” Arik screeched in his ear, and Warriors finally caught his breath enough to stumble to his feet, and Legend dragged him away, the grass burning behind them.

They didn’t make it far before Warriors heard shouting again, and he let out a breathless curse, sparing a single glance over his shoulder. More of the other troupe members were chasing them now, and Warriors forced his exhausted legs to keep going, Legend struggling along beside him.

One of their feet caught on something, Warriors didn’t know if it was him or Legend, but they both tumbled to the ground, a triumphant shout behind them.

Warriors lifted himself up on shaking elbows, back screaming in pain, his throat raw from smoke, and Legend shakily caught his arm.

“Wars, I...” Legend wheezed, his eyes half-lidded. “I’m not... get y-yourself out of here...”

“No,” Warriors snapped, then coughed and gritted his teeth. “None of us are going back in there.”

Arik stood up and hissed as shadows fell over them, baring his tiny teeth and claws. Warriors braced himself to get up and try to fight, when someone suddenly yelled in pain.

One of the figures above them toppled backwards, and Warriors stared at the arrow protruding from a shoulder.

He’d know that fletching anywhere.

“Captain! Vet!” a familiar voice shouted, and Warriors managed to sit up the rest of the way, relief sweeping over him as two figures leapt out of the shadows and began pushing the enemies back.

Another appeared and knelt beside them, and Warriors let Wind snatch him into a hug, even though it hurt.

“Thank Jabun you guys are okay, we’ve been looking for you guys for ages," Wind gasped into his shoulder, "it took us so long to figure out where you went it was like you'd just disappeared and then there was this whole side quest thing we got stuck doing—” Wind continued as he pulled back with a relieved look, talking at warp speed. Warriors nodded as he helped Legend sit up, and Wind paused in his talking just long enough to grab him into a hug too. “—it was a whole thing and that’s why there’s a dragon over where Sky is and—”

“Whoa whoa whoa, wait, say that last part again,” Warriors said, and Wind breathed out, and then in.

“We found a dragon, the good protector kind, not a boss. She said her baby had been stolen and wanted us to help, and once we figured out you guys were here Time said he thought her baby might also be here, so that’s why there’s a huge dragon with Sky,” Wind summed up in one breath. “Also Sky can understand her? None of us can but him. It’s not very fair.”

Warriors grinned despite his exhaustion, and heard a distant roar bellow out across the field. Arik’s head shot straight up from where he'd been pressed against Warriors' side at the sound, his head and ears tilting around rather frantically, and Wind gasped.

“Whoa, what’s that?”

Warriors scratched Arik in his favorite spot. “Another escapee,” Warriors said with an exhausted smile. “...And the reason Sky’s friend is here.”

Arik eyeballed Wind cautiously, but Wind stayed still, only stretching out a hand for him to examine. Arik gave it a small sniff, then chirped, bonking his head against his fingers.

Wind giggled. “Aw, he’s cute. You... said he was captured too?”

Warriors nodded. “Yeah. For a lot longer than us.”

"Put up a good fight, though," Legend wheezed quietly, and Warriors held his shoulder a bit tighter. Legend leaned into the touch with an exhausted sigh, and Wind gave them both a worried look.

A fair amount of the yelling had died down around them, the crowds dispersing, though Warriors could still hear some shouts from across the field. More of the Links appeared shortly, looking utterly relieved at the sight of Legend and Warriors, and Warriors let them all fuss over them. Arik curled up in a trembly ball on his lap as he explained briefly all of what had happened, and Twilight and Time exchanged horrified looks more than once.

Legend was half-asleep on his shoulder by the time he finished, and Hyrule had just started to try and coax him to drink a red potion when Sky suddenly joined them all, the last one of their group to appear.

He gave Warriors and Legend relieved looks, and then his gaze landed on the dragon in Warriors' lap and his face lit up.

"Oh it's him! You found Arik!" he exclaimed excitedly. Before Warriors could reply, a huge shadow swept over them, blocking out the moon.

“Arik!” a chiming voice cried out, and a huge deep blue dragon poured out from the sky, landing effortlessly on the ground before them. Arik shot up from his place on Warriors’ lap and squealed, leaping straight at her and purring wildly as the huge dragon nuzzled him.

Warriors smiled as he leaned heavily against Legend, both dragons purring contentedly as they reunited. Time gave him an amused look from beside him, and Warriors quickly cleared his throat as he realized he was purring as well. Oh sure, now it decides to work.

The blue dragon finally eased in her frantic purring, and she looked around at them all, her eyes bright with relief. Arik sat on her head, still purring up a storm, and began chattering so quickly Warriors couldn't make out a word of it. His mother let out what Warriors assumed was a laugh, and Arik draped himself across her nose, looking happier than Warriors had ever seen him.

“Thank you heroes, you've done more for me than you could possibly imagine,” the dragon rumbled, her gaze resting on Warriors. “Especially you, little dragon and mer. Thank you for protecting my son.”

Warriors smiled, and froze as the dragon leaned forward, pressing her nose to his forehead.

“I can see that you've suffered much. Your kindness won’t be forgotten,” she said warmly, and gave him and Legend's hair a small lick.

Warriors heard a few of the others muffle laughs, but he nodded at the dragon, and Legend, though he looked confused, managed a smile in her direction.

“You guys catch the leader?” Legend murmured as he sipped at the potion Hyrule finally got him to drink.

“We did, don’t worry,” Twilight said, giving the burning tent in the distance a furious look.

“Some knights from the town came to see what was going on, and we explained the trouble. We helped them get her and most of her people in custody already,” Time said, and Warriors further relaxed.

Arik wouldn’t have to worry about her ever again.

As if he’d heard his thoughts, the little dragon hopped off of his mother and scampered over to him, not quite flying with his small hops. “Ink A-rik!” he said with a happy purr, and a sudden pang of sadness hit Warriors.

Logically he’d known this was coming, but... he supposed he hadn’t really thought about what saying goodbye would entail. He had no clue where they were in history, especially not in relation to his own time period. In all likelihood, he’d never see Arik again.

“Ink?” Arik chirped, and Warriors gave him a smile, scratching at the base of his horns.

"You’re going to have to go in a minute here, little guy," Warriors said softly, still gently scratching. Arik chirped again, and rubbed against him with a quiet purr. “Your mom probably wants to take you home.”

“Ma,” Arik said happily, looking back at her, and Warriors nodded. Then he looked back at Warriors, and his face drooped. "Ink," he said a little sadly, and gave Warriors a small lick on the nose.

"Yeah, I’m going to stay here. This is... goodbye. I'll miss you too," Warriors said with a sad smile, and Arik rested his head against his with a quiet coo, meeting Warriors' blue eyes with his own bright green.

Then he licked his nose again and pulled back, giving Legend a quick lick as well before hopping back over to his mother. Legend spluttered, but there was a fond look on his face as Arik climbed up onto his mother’s head again. The large dragon blinked happily as her baby curled up, and gave all of the Links one more grateful look, her gaze lingering on Warriors again.

“Thank you,” she purred softly, then leapt into the air, a triumphant musical cry ringing through the sky.

They all watched her sweep across the field, her scales nearly glowing in the moonlight, Arik chirping along with her. The smell of rain hit Warriors’ nose as the dragon curled over the spreading flames, and he saw mist sweep over the field, steam rising from the now-doused tent and grass.

And then she flew upwards, and both dragons disappeared into the starry night.

Warriors sighed, every ache and pain suddenly reminding him of its presence full-force. His throat and back still aches fiercely, and suddenly all he wanted to do was sleep. Legend looked over at him, and Warriors gave him a faint smile.

“Let’s get you two out of here, I’m sure you’ve have had enough of this place,” Time said, and Warriors nodded, Legend huffing out an exhausted laugh.

“Absolutely,” he agreed as his eyes slipped closed, and Wind and Hyrule helped him up, Time assisting Warriors. Warriors leaned heavily against him, legs wobbling, and Time gave him a worried look as his eye flitted across the scales painted across his face.

“You’re all right, Captain?” he asked quietly, and Warriors nodded, looking over at him.

“I will be,” he assured just as quietly, and sent Time a faint smirk. “I just want a hot meal, a bath, and to get out of these clothes.”

Time chuckled, but his warm grip didn’t lessen in the slightest as Warriors looked up at the sky one more time, scanning the swathe of stars above them.

He almost thought he heard a triumphant chirp echo from above him.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 27 ~ Decisions

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CW’s: none

WC: 3389

Taglist: @dont-touch-my-soup, @kixngiggles

In which we talk about the bandits and wonder what's gotten into Carr

AN: Hey look, I did it! I wrote something new for the first time in months! \o/

Getting back around to the bandits here. And I'm mean to no one :p

Carr

“So, how many are left?” Carr asked Salma. She brushed a piece of Resh’s hair out of his face, which was as relaxed as she’d seen in days. That asshole of a doctor must’ve given him something better than they’d had on the road. It had surely knocked him out fast enough. 

Reluctantly, she rose and walked to the other side of the room to join the lady of the manor at the table. She wiped her hand on her pants before she sat, resolving to help Resh wash his hair next time he woke. 

A tray of fruits and cheeses had made its way into the room at some point, and Carr eyed it, wondering if it was okay to eat while she spoke with the lady or if she was supposed to wait. Her stomach grumbled, dissatisfied with its current empty state, making her decision for her. 

“Why, all of them,” Salma said, tilting her head. 

“What do you mean, all of ‘em?” Carr paused with her hand poised over an apple. 

“Well, some were injured, of course, but it’s hard to deliver justice to the dead, don’t you think?” Salma leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. 

“Some would find death t’ be the highest order of justice,” Carr muttered, snatching up the apple. There was no change of expression and Salma didn’t say anything, so she withdrew a dagger from her hip–one of several now that she had her blades back–and deftly cut a slice from the fruit. 

She stared at it for a moment, then reached across the table, offering the first bite to the lady. 

“Thank you, Carr,” Salma said softly, offering a radiant smile in return. 

Carr cleared her throat and returned to the apple, cutting out another chunk. She bit into it, expecting slightly bitter tartness and mealy flesh, but sweetness flooded her mouth instead, the flesh firm, crunching as she chewed. Startled, she eyed the rest of the apple. Shit, this was the best one she’d ever tasted. She wished she could save some for Resh, but it would be hours before he woke, and it would brown before then. 

“If you like the apples, I can have more brought up,” Salma said, nibbling daintily on her piece. 

“I think Resh would like them,” Carr said before taking another bite. 

“His sister certainly has.” Salma chuckled, but then her expression sobered. “Adan and I need to decide how to proceed with the… well, it seems wrong to call them bandits, now that I’ve seen them.” 

Carr nodded. They were more than that, weren’t they? Just like Nykim’s pack was more than just a typical pack of thieves. 

“Well, whatever they are, they’ve been a thorn in our sides for some time now, but we could never find them. No wonder, if they were that deep in the Wood. But for all that, they’ve never done worse than scare some folks while they lifted their goods. Minor injuries here and there. But what they did to your party is a much more serious affair. I heard your driver is dead. They kidnapped your friend, and half killed him in the process.” 

The apple wobbled in Carr’s suddenly slick fingers. She set it aside with some regret and grabbed a cloth napkin to wipe down her blade. The feel of Salma’s gaze pricked her skin. 

“Adan said your other friend passed along your request for leniency.” 

Well, she’d no clue they would spare anyone, now had she? Speaking of Brant, where was he–

“I have a pretty good feel for people, Carr.” Her words were clipped, forcing Carr to glance up from her overly shiny dagger. “You don’t seem the forgiving type.” 

Carr’s mouth dried out. Her behavior hadn’t exactly been stellar so far, had it. “I…” 

Salma’s tone softened. “It’s okay. I just have to wonder what you saw in that camp to change your mind.”

“I, um.” She tried to swallow, but her mouth felt like a fucking desert. Was there something to drink? 

A scraping sound heralded a cup pushed across the table toward her, and Carr took it, holding the water in her mouth a moment before swallowing. 

Twisting the handle of the dagger in her hand, Carr tried again. “I was angry,” she admitted as she watched the light play off the steel. “Still am.” 

“I don’t blame you for that in the slightest,” Salma said softly. “But…” 

“But when I got in, they seemed to be taking care of him. And I found out they were…” Like me, she wanted to say. “A community,” she finally got out instead. “Misfits, trying to find their own place to belong.” 

Salma watched her carefully, and Carr had to wonder how much she was reading between the lines. “Misfits, how?” 

Gonna make her say it, huh. “People who aren’t quite… right.” She grimaced, not especially liking how that sounded. “Different,” she tried. A bit better, she supposed. “In the head, or maybe in the… soul? Or not sound of body– You know, right? The ones who get laughed at, talked about behind their backs.” 

Salma frowned. “They would’ve been welcomed here or in any of half a dozen villages surrounding. Why on Valysii would they hole up in the Wood and rob people to survive?” 

Carr laughed drily. “Would they really have been? We’ve been traveling for weeks now, and haven’t found one place we’d be comfortable settling in.” 

“Because Resh can’t speak? Or because…” Salma trailed off, her eyes big brown pools of sorrow. 

A lump rose in her throat. Or because of her, but the lady was too kind to say it. She hadn’t really considered it, but now she had to wonder how many times they’d left a place behind because she couldn’t fit into it. 

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah. So… yeah.” 

How long would it be before they were kicked out of this nice room? She hoped they could stay a few days at least, long enough to get Resh the care he needed. And all their money was gone. Unless the guards had recovered it, but she wasn’t holding out for that. She’d need to find work. Real work, because there was Orla, and she couldn’t risk trouble. Fuck, what could she even do? 

“Hey–”

A hand landed on her arm, and she jerked back so fast her chair squealed in protest. 

“Sorry,” Salma said, pulling her hand away. “You weren’t hearing me. I was saying, you don’t have to worry about that here.” 

“I need a job,” Carr blurted, pushing out of her seat. “They took… they took everything, and what they didn’t exploded with our carriage. I need… I. I have to…” 

“Carr,” Salma said, holding out her hands as she rose. “You don’t have to worry about any of that.” 

Her mouth opened and closed. Opened again. “But–” 

“No buts,” Salma said firmly. “I would ask you not to use that dagger on anyone here–” 

Carr hastily put the blade she was holding back in its sheath. 

“But you and Resh and Orla are our guests for as long as you’d like to be here.” 

Wow, Orla must’ve really worked her way into these people’s good graces. Carr twisted her fingers. It wouldn’t last. It never lasted. And it wasn’t because of Resh. It was her. It had always been her and she just hadn’t seen it. 

She must’ve looked a little wild-eyed, because Salma was speaking slowly, calmly. Words. Shit, words. 

“–if you really want. Later.” 

Carr stared. If she wanted what now? 

“Come sit back down.” Salma waved to the table. “Finish your apple. Help yourself to the rest of the food–you have to be starving. I’ll give you some time. I just– Were you treated okay? Did anyone hurt you while you were there? I should’ve asked if you needed help before but…” 

They both glanced at Resh, who was thankfully still asleep. 

“I’m fine,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. 

Salma’s eyes followed the movement, but she nodded, then turned for the door. 

“I’d still ask for leniency,” Carr said before she could leave.  

Salma paused in the doorway, turning to look at her. “For all?” 

Carr hesitated. As much as she’d like to see Lox pay, he was Rowan’s. And Demex… well, that was complicated. Her chin dipped jerkily. She couldn’t be picky here. It might hurt the chances for the others.  

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll pass that along to Adan. Goodnight, Carr. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.” 

“Night,” Carr whispered as the door shut. 

She stood there, staring blankly for an unknown amount of time before she stumbled back over to the table and put her head in her hands. Shit. 

~~~

The door squealed as it opened, waking her instantly. She jumped up from… the table? When had she fallen asleep? Fuck, it was dark, and there was a giant outline of a person creeping into their room. Carr’s blades were out in a second, and the figure halted, no doubt able to see her pretty clearly courtesy of the open curtains behind her. 

“Carr, it’s me,” a rough voice said, barely loud enough to hear. 

A voice she recognized. She lowered her hands, but kept her blades out, for now. “What the fuck, Brant?” 

The outline moved closer until the moonlight silvered a familiar craggy face. “I need to leave.” 

“And you couldn’t wait ‘til morning? Please tell me you aren’t robbing these people and leavin’ me t’ take the fall.” The blades came back up.  

“Fucking pits, no. Can’t believe you’d even say that.” 

“Really?” 

“No, I guess not.” He chuckled. “This seems like a good place. If I was you, I’d stick around here for a bit. But I’ve gotta get back. Been gone too long.” 

Carr put her blades away but kept her hands on the hilts. “You got a feelin’?” 

“Yeah, I do. You know what I left Nykim with.” 

“Surprised you left at all.”  

“Yeah, well, he asked me too. We’ve got a soft spot for you, kid. It’ll do him good to know you’ve landed in a place like this, with the lady herself calling you guests.” He backed away, the shadows falling over him like a shroud. 

Carr shook her head, hardly believing. “It was good to see you, Brant. Take care of him, huh? And let me know if there’s trouble… I’ll come. If I can.” Her head swiveled to the bed. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout us. Worry ‘bout him.” His outline faded, melding with the yawning pit of the open doorframe. “Take care of yourself.” 

The door was silent as it closed behind him. 

~~~

Resh

Resh could hardly believe it when he opened his eyes and saw daylight instead of shadows. And his mind felt… clear. Which was in a way more confusing than waking up in a haze. 

He shifted carefully in the bed, waiting for the stab of pain from his shoulder, but all he felt was a twinge of discomfort, and that mostly from his ribs. Frowning, he prodded his chest. There was a thick, padded bandage in the way, but he should be able to feel something, and he didn’t. 

Fuck, did his arm still work? He released a relieved sigh when he was able to lift it. His fingers felt a little tingly, but they worked too. Gingerly, he levered himself up but his head swam with the movement, so he leaned against the headboard. 

Something wasn’t right. 

His eyes darted around the vaguely familiar room before landing on the recumbent form on the other side of the bed. Anxiety’s relentless grip loosened at the sight of her. 

Carr was lying on her side, facing him. It looked like she’d been watching him and had fallen asleep while waiting for him to rouse. That he hadn’t woken her with his movement spoke volumes as to her fatigue. 

She was here. Something might not be right, but they were in the room in… Hallin? Yeah, he was pretty sure that was the name of the town. And she was here. His sister must be nearby if she was here. This place must be safe if she was sleeping so soundly. 

As Resh relaxed further, he became aware of how dry and cottony his mouth felt, and how empty his belly was. It growled, reminding him that he’d been neglecting it. He’d seen a table across the room, but how he’d get there was another question. 

An unnecessary one, it turned out, because when Resh looked to the side of the bed, considering how he’d rise, he found a table in the way. On the table was a tray with a bowl and a cup of water. Oh, thank gods. 

The bowl was filled with a broth, gone lukewarm. He sipped it straight from the vessel, not caring in the slightest. 

When he finished, he set the bowl aside. He relaxed back against the headboard with a replete sigh, only to suck his breath back in when he found Carr’s eyes open. 

Hey, he said. 

She yawned and pushed herself up. “Hi. How you feelin’?” 

Better than I should? he replied. He poked at the bandage again. Weak still, but… I can’t feel my shoulder. Is something wrong with it?

“The doc cleaned out the wound this morning. He said he used some kind of…”–her face wrinkled–“I can’t remember his fancy pants medical term. It should be numb for a bit.” 

His face must’ve reflected his confusion, because she said, “You don’t remember?” 

He shook his head, one hand going to his shoulder. How could he not remember something like that? Every other time his shoulder had been treated had been so exquisitely painful that he’d thought he was being tortured. 

“The whole morning? You don’t remember anything?” 

He shook his head again, frowning. 

“Shit. That doc must have some good stuff.” 

His frown deepened. He wasn’t sure he was a fan of the doc’s “good stuff” if it wiped his memory for–he looked out the window, estimating it was past noon by the sun’s position–half a fucking day. 

“You don’t like it,” she said, cocking her head. “I can ask if he can do something different?” 

Resh shrugged. It was over, wasn’t it? 

“He wants to clean it out daily for… it depends how long, apparently,” she continued. 

Well, shit. 

“I don’t know how much better it could be though, Resh.” Carr rubbed her eyes. “He was scraping around inside you with a fuckin’ knife and you barely even reacted.” 

He was suddenly very glad to have not been aware for that. 

It’s fine, he said when she opened her mouth to go on. But… He massaged his numb shoulder, suddenly concerned. This isn’t some kind of dream, is it? Seems too good to be true. 

“It’s real,” Carr said, her eyes sad. 

Real. He took a deep breath, and it only twinged a little. 

Carr rose from the bed and stretched. “Salma wants to talk to you today about the bandits.” 

Resh raised an eyebrow at the abrupt change of topic. 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “She talked t’ me yesterday. I asked for leniency, but I’ll support you if you feel different.” 

He couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d drawn her blades and run him through. Why? 

It wasn’t like her at all. He adored her, but she was unforgiving, unbending. His brow furrowed. 

She shifted her weight, then lowered her arms, then started cracking her knuckles, her gaze avoiding his. “You didn’t see much of the camp, unless they gave you some kind of tour when you came in.” 

Resh snorted. Yeah, right. 

“They reminded me of the pack, ‘cept… more. There’s women and children there, Resh. It’s a refuge, for people who don’t fit in. I don’t– I don’t want to destroy that. It doesn’t feel right.” 

They almost killed you and Orla, Resh said before he realized she wasn’t looking at him. He gave a low whistle, and when she looked back up, he repeated himself. 

“I know,” she said. “And they hurt you. Stole you away and kept you against your will. You might’ve died if you’d stayed there. Believe me, I’m fuckin’ pissed. But. Not everyone was happy ‘bout that.” 

He chewed the inside of his cheek, considering. Who’s even left to punish? If it’s just the ones who stayed behind, then I could see letting them off. 

“All of them,” Carr whispered. “Some injuries, Salma said, but all of them are here t’ face justice.” 

Are you sure? Resh really couldn’t reconcile with her decision, but if that’s what she wanted… 

She nodded. 

If that’s what you want, Resh said. He smoothed his bangs over his scarred forehead, considering. But… who put those bruises on your wrists? 

“Oh,” Carr said, looking startled. She tugged at her tunic sleeves, covering the evidence. “That’s just from when they captured me.” 

His eyes narrowed. When they captured you. 

“Well, yeah, I had to get in somehow.” 

What else did they do to you? I swear to gods, Carr, if someone hurt you, I can’t–

“Nothing!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest again. 

Would you tell me if they had? He had his doubts. 

She growled–actually growled!–at him. “Yeah,” she bit out. 

He must’ve still looked disbelieving because she threw up her hands and started pacing. 

“Fuckin’ shit! Do you need me t’ tell you that I thought they might rape me and I was ready t’ let it happen? That I had a horrible flashback when I let them capture me and I felt like I was suffocating? Guess that’s on them, even though I put myself there. Lox was ready t’ kill me if I wasn’t willin’ to become Demex’s property or something while I was tested out as part of their community. They worked me t’ the bone, but then, everyone there worked themselves t’ the bone, trying t’ eke out a living cut off from society. That I had t’ sleep next to that guy every night, pretend like I needed him t’ protect me?” 

She spun to face him. “Is that what you want t’ hear?”

No, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. That she’d done all that… put herself through that, for him? He wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t even imagine how scared she had to have been. It made his heart hurt. 

Did he touch you? It popped out of his mouth before he could pull it back. But gods, he couldn’t bear it if–

“Of course he did. Did you not hear the part where I had t’ sleep next to him?” Carr scoffed. 

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t drag air into the empty hole where his chest had been. 

“Fuck, that’s not what you meant, was it?” She dragged a hand through her hair, snagging it on a knot. “No, not like that. He kissed me once, right before Hallin’s guards arrived, and it was gross, but that was it.” 

Air whooshed into his newly restored lungs, and he had to press a hand to his ribs to steady them. Oh thank gods, thank fuck, thank gods. 

Wait. He’d kissed her? 

I want him dead.

“Resh,” Carr said flatly. 

He pursed his lips. He meant it. 

She rolled her eyes. “So we’re agreed? Mostly?” 

Yeah, I guess. 

“Okay.” She rubbed her hands together and eyed him critically. 

Oh gods, what now? 

“How’re you feelin’? Are you sleepy yet?” 

No, he said, a little surprised. He wriggled his shoulder experimentally. Still numb, too.

“Good. I was thinkin’... We can see if you can walk t’ the bathing room. Or I can bring water in here t’ help you wash. Get your hair and stuff, before Salma comes back.” 

He’d felt lightheaded just sitting up, but now he needed to take a piss, and he’d much rather try to get to the bathing room for that. Let’s try to walk.

She nodded. “Alright then. Swing your legs over, and you can lean on me if you need to.” 

Oh, he’d need to. But he knew he could rely on her to keep him steady. 

In more ways than one.  

Next

[quibbs126]

So we have part 2 of stylized Cookies, pretty much all from today other than bird girls

I feel like I did better yesterday, but also I haven’t seen yesterday’s drawing since yesterday, so I don’t really remember if it was

I was planning on drawing the Hollyberry family, but because I got stuck on Jungleberry (I deleted her so you can’t see), that didn’t end up happening. Funny enough, I was also like “I have no clue what to do for White Lily and Pure Vanilla so they’re probably not gonna be drawn for a while”, but what got me to draw more today was ideas for White Lily, and Pure Vanilla came along later

To be honest, White Lily and Pure Vanilla probably still need some tweaking before I color them. I’m still not really sure what I’m doing with White Lily’s hair, and for Pure Vanilla I feel like I haven’t done enough outside of the eyes and the hat. Maybe it’s because I gave him an oval head? I wasn’t really sure what head shape to give him other than it not being one I already used

Speaking of their eyes, White Lily’s are supposed to be pink with white irises, and Pure Vanilla is supposed to have no irises, but solid yellow and blue. Which when I was drawing looked somewhat unsettling, which is funny because since I draw so many Cookies, that’s usually normal now

Also also, I now want to make a purelily kid that combines their features, aka White Lily’s half shadow face and Pure Vanilla’s small non iris eyes. They’d look like the comedy mask. And probably also somewhat like Shadow Milk

As for the Hollyberry family, I think Holly herself looks good, and the other two look alright. Princess probably needs more tweaking. I wanted to give them a running trait of not just dot eyes, but leaves in their hair. I’m thinking that every Hollyberrian has leaves in their hair, since they’re berries. I am struggling with Royal Berry and Princess’, since the best place to it their leaves is where they have something else, aka their crown and heart pins

To be honest I want to make it so that Princess is half berry half candy, so that maybe she could not have to have the leaves, but I like Jungleberry and don’t want to get rid of her or turn her into a candy, so oh well

I drew Red Velvet because I was struggling with White Lily and Pure Vanilla. I gave him a triangle head because someone somewhere on my first page said something about Golden Cheese having a triangle face because the Cakes, so why not give the half cake Cookie a triangle head as well?

Also with Red Velvet I definitely took liberties in redesigning him, like with the hair and horns, but I don’t think he looks necessarily bad? As least not by the end

I also drew him with Dark Choco because darkvelvet is a thing I know. Though to be honest, while I draw it, I’m not sure how much I like it. Like in theory I like it, it’s not bad, it’s just that I don’t think I get it. Like as far as I can tell they can only be doomed by the narrative because Dark Choco leaves, but maybe I’m interpreting Red Velvet’s character wrong. It’s been over a year since I watched his story. And also I’m not sure what draws people to the ship? Like darklico for example I can get for various reasons, but I don’t know about darkvelvet

Oh yeah, Licorice is here too. Forgot about that. Well I tried to make his head oval shaped because it’s sort supposed to look like a skull? Or a cartoony skull. Same with his eyes and mouth, they’re supposed to be somewhat skull-y. I didn’t draw his actual skulls though because I’m lazy and it’s a small drawing. I think he turned out pretty good though

I think maybe next page I should focus on more random characters outside of the Ancients. Maybe that’ll help the creative freedom

Anyways yeah, I think that’s it for now

[heliopauseentertainments]

At The End Of A Long Day

A birthday present for @tarklesbehindthescenes. Happy birthday!

Continuity: G1

Rating: General Relationships: Galvatron/Rodimus

Characters: Rodimus, Galvatron

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Vignette, Established Relationship, Fluff, Cuddling, Not Beta Red

Summary: In which Rodimus is exhausted by the burden of leadership.

Crossposting: AO3 | Dreamwidth

Fic under cut. See AO3 for complete notes.

The sun shone in through the windows of Rodimus’s private quarters. Well, not solely his, the ones he shared these days with Galvatron, who was out at the moment. He had no clue when his partner would come back.

The light formed an accusing spotlight on the back of his head.

Worse, the chronometer on the wall flashed the time, indicating that it was only early afternoon.

Yet Rodimus already felt so exhausted, his limbs heavy and his mind sluggish.

After finishing with his morning meetings, he had rolled home… and promptly flopped prone onto the ground.

He turned his head away from the wall as though not looking could negate the reality of linear time.

Rodimus had, over time, gotten used to the idea that, to some extent, he would always be involved in keeping a fractured, nearly barren Cybertron together, despite having tried to separate himself from the burden of the Matrix whenever possible. It had been difficult to accept the immense, inescapable responsibility that he had never wanted in the first place.

If only that were all of it.

After the wisdom in the relic had been drained to push back against the Hate-Plague, the added task of refilling it with new wisdom also weighed him down. Only a small seed of light had been restored to the chamber.

Most days were an uphill battle, but that was hardly new for Rodimus. Life just tended to be a Sisyphean task.

At least these days, that task tended to involve fewer battles and more administrative pressure. He could do without the tedium and public appearances and approvals and interviews and blah blah blah—If only he could liquefy and saturate the floor.

Then again, given that the floor was solid, Ultra Magnus would likely just come by and mop him up, wring the resulting Rodimus juice out into a bucket, and then prop that bucket up in the chair in Rodimus’s office. He would probably even tape a light-pen to the rim of the bucket for Rodimus’s “convenience.”

An absolutely terrible way to go, he thought, pressing the side of his face into the cold, metal floor.

And they’d write it on his epitaph: “Forever Dedicated To The Betterment of Cybertron”

The bust, of course, just to rub salt into the wound of his exhaustion, would be a lovingly sculpted damned bucket, in beautiful black granite, with a faithfully rendered taped-on pen.

He heard a door slide open behind him. It was probably the front door, but he couldn’t be sure without looking. Looking would require moving and he had little to no interest in doing that at the moment.

However, just in case whoever had walked in thought him dead, Rodimus groaned horribly to dispel any worries about having stumbled upon the corpse of the vaunted leader of the Autobots. He wasn’t dead, not yet anyway.

“I have returned from the day’s battles!”

It was just Galvatron then; that was fine. He had never been one to fear a half-dead body. Or a full-dead body. Any body, actually.

Rodimus managed to slide one arm over his head to give his partner a tired thumbs up.

“Welcome back,” he mumbled into the ground. “Good job.”

With the reintegration of the Decepticons into mainstream society, Galvatron’s role these days was more ceremonial than practical. Rodimus was often envious of how little paperwork he had to do. Public appearances were the mainstay of his duties. At least Galvatron, being a blowhard, liked the sound of his own voice. That would make it a less tedious duty for him personally.

“Rodimus, why are you on the ground?” Rodimus, still not able to see Galvatron, could hear the heavy stomp of his footfalls as he approached… and then the creak of his old joints as he squatted down. “Where is your dignity?”

“Uh… Misplaced it this morning.” Assuming Rodimus had had any dignity to start with was very generous of he, so he decided to humor Galvatron a little.

“I shall graciously help you locate it—“

He probably ought to intervene before Galvatron’s sometimes tenuous grasp on reality slipped. He did better these days, but best not to chance it.

“Galvatron, I was joking. It was a joke—”

“Perhaps it has been stolen then.” A strong hand pressed into his shoulder, as though to comfort him, to assure him that all was not lost in the course of some grand quest. “I shall sally forth and reclaim it for you from the smoldering corpse of the would-be thief.”

How, uh, valorous.

“No,” Rodimus said, “you really don’t need to do that.”

“But why?”

“You’re being incredibly literal again��Look, I’m just tired. It’s fine. Really, it’s fine.”

Said a mech lying prone on the floor and having spent untold minutes wishing to ooze into it. Totally fine and normal behavior and goals.

He could hear Galvatron humming with doubt.

“Are you dying?”

Before Rodimus could say anything in protest, a heavy weight pressed along his side before arms rolled him over. The next thing he knew, he was both cradled into a tight embrace and also pressed into the floor. Good thing he had never been claustrophobic.

“This is hardly a warrior’s death!”

Despite being a somewhat squished, he was comforted by the embrace, as though the hug would keep the worst of the exhaustion at bay. If anyone could intimidate a sensation, it would be Galvatron.

“No, Galvatron, it’s… it’s an accountant’s death and I’ve always hated math.”

Galvatron’s grip around his torso tightened, but not uncomfortably so. Not yet anyway. It happened sometimes when he got a little too… enthusiastic in his affections. The guy never did anything by half-measures, both a blessing and a curse depending on the day.

“I forbid you to fall to such a pathetic enemy.”

There was no winning any complaint otherwise; he knew that by now. Best to just give up and let Galvatron have his… whatever this was. Victory, maybe? That didn’t seem quite right, but it didn’t really matter.

Rodimus relaxed into the sense of safety and concern.

“Alright, alright; I won’t. You’ve convinced me,” he conceded.

Galvatron scoffed, as though the very idea of an alternative was laughable.

“Of course, I did.”

And, frankly, Rodimus felt a little better already.

[winchesterszvonecek]

Prosecutorial Misconduct 18+

Chapter 8 - A Whirlwind of Emotions

Word Count: 10,584

Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

When a new case came teetering across the wire that morning, Melanie was the first, and only, one out of the team to volunteer to take the details into Liv. On any other day, she wouldn’t have. She’d have simply leaned back in her chair, watching happily, with her feet up on her desk, as Carisi was forced to get up from his and begrudgingly deliver the news himself.

However today…things were a little different than usual. 

For starters, Carisi wasn’t even at his desk in order to be forced to stand up from it. He was still hiding in the break room with Rollins and Fin, after they’d all been quick to make a point of not wanting to be in the bullpen when Chief Dodds inevitably came strolling in with the new Sergeant in tow. And it wasn’t because they were nervous around William. Or partially reluctant to meet Mike after having asked about him once, only to then have Melanie snap furiously at them and warn them what would happen should they do so again. No, it was simply because of one thing and one thing only… 

Fear. 

That’s right. All three of those big brave detectives were cowering simply because of their shared, deep-seated, and anxiety induced fear over finally seeing how Melanie would react to having her brother walk in, as they had no clue that the twins had made up the other day. If they did, then there wouldn't be any need for them to be hiding in the break room, metaphorically shaking in their boots over the possibility of World War Three breaking out in the squad room… which, if we’re being totally honest here, may have been entirely Melanie's purposefully planned out fault. 

She had been fully intending on telling them the truth, honestly, she had been…but then she’d overheard them last night, at Rollins’ baby shower. After they’d all learned that Mike would be joining the team in the morning, she’d stumbled across the three of them all huddled together in the corner, ‘deducing’ with one another over how Mike, a cop who’d never worked a day of sex crimes in his life, could have possibly gotten this job on such short notice, and if she was telling the truth, that pissed her off even more than her desk duty did.  

As if Mike didn’t get this job the exact same way she did: through hard work and determination, which had absolutely nothing, whatsoever, to do with their father as neither of them needed him to pull any strings to get to where they were. And okay, yes, William might have put Mike’s name into the hat for the Sergeant’s position, but it wasn’t him who made the final decision as to the winner. That was the role of the higher ups, and they wouldn’t have picked Mike had they not found him impressive and qualified enough for the job, and it was because of that… 

Because of the audacity they had to form a childish little gossiping session to talk about her brother, that Melanie had been rather happy to keep her co-workers on edge that morning, as maybe then they’d think twice about ever pulling the nepotism card out of that deck of answers again. 

But anyway, minor revenge plotting aside and getting back to the present day situation, the sole reason as to why Melanie was the first one to volunteer to take the case into Liv was because it was Mike’s first day at SVU. And I know what you’re thinking, why would that encourage her to actually want to do her job considering she may lose it? Well I’ll tell you why, and it’s simple really… You see, when William first came waltzing into the precinct with Mike in tow, Melanie had been all for getting in on the introductions with Liv, as who better to talk Mike up other than his literal other half who wanted nothing more than for him to feel welcome? 

At least, that’s what she been thinking to herself all morning but apparently, for some eye-twitchingly annoying reason, William hadn’t agreed with her thus resulting in him being far too quick to forbid — that’s right, you read correctly, forbid her from so much as being near Liv’s office for the duration of those nicety introductions… And if that didn’t piss her off more than her gossiping co-workers did, then Lord knows what would, so you can see why Melanie was rather glad to finally get an excuse to interrupt things.

“Hey,” Melanie said as she poked her head around the office door, watching as her dad and brother turned away from Liv, and spun, unsurprisingly, on their heels towards her, “Sorry to interrupt.” 

“No you’re not,” Both William and Mike said in unison. 

“You’re right, I’m not,” Melanie grinned, earning two sets of rolled eyes as she entered the office properly, waving a small post-it note between her fingers. “But I did just catch a case.”

“Did you now?” William questioned suspiciously, his eyebrow raising as it seems oddly coincidental that she’d catch a case only moments after being told to stay outside. “That’s convenient.” 

“Isn’t it?” Melanie answered humorously, her grin only widening with pure sarcasm as she stepped even further into the office, ignoring Mike’s quiet chuckles from beside her and focusing solely on her dad’s intense sceptical glare. “If you don’t believe me, daddy, you can ask the desk Sergeant.” 

“Just…” William sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he grew to regret bringing Mike in himself. “What’s the case, Melanie?” 

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked,” Melanie replied chipperly, even despite the next few words she was about to say as she could never not find great pleasure in exhausting her dad. Or her Lieutenant. Her tone did fall serious rather quickly, though, as she glanced down at the note in her hand…The one she hadn’t even read herself yet as she’d been too eager to interrupt their meeting. “Oh what do you know, it’s the Park Milano hotel. Again…” 

At that, it was Liv’s turn to sigh as…when was it not? That place should be shut down if you ask her, but alas she didn’t have the power to do so and instead could only investigate the crimes after they’d happened. 

Speaking of which… back to Melanie. 

“According to this, Alessandra Bay, the lead violinist for this group Belle Donne, was assaulted there in her room last night,” Melanie read aloud, giving them a brief glimpse of the post-it note before dropping her hand back down to her side and sharing hopeful glances between her dad and brother. “Now here’s a fun idea I only just thought of… What do you say all three of us go check it out? Call it a…family day out?” 

“You’re on desk duty, Melanie,” William so rudely reminded her, all but shattering her newly formed dream of starring in a live-action family game of cluedo. “And that means staying at your desk.” 

“Oh, come on,” Melanie complained, “It’s a four star hotel… And you’d be there. What trouble could I possibly get myself into?” 

A lot probably, as having her dad around only seemed to exacerbate her need for chaos. 

“I dread to even think about the answer to that question,” William said, to which Mike and Liv were far too eager to agree with their smug little head nods and eyebrow raises. 

Rude, Melanie thought to herself, she wasn’t that bad. And also, since when had her dad and Liv become such a close knit duo in the team up on Melanie club? Last she checked, Liv didn’t even like her dad yet now she was going against her and happily backing him up? What’s next? Matching t-shirts? 

“You’d get yourself into trouble in a padded room, if you tried hard enough,” William continued, much to Melanie’s evergrowing annoyance.  

“Perhaps she should,” Mike muttered, unable to stop himself from participating when the moment arose so perfectly in front of him. “I’ve always wondered what she’d look like in a straight jacket.” 

“Oh,” Melanie shook her head, drawing her tongue over her back teeth as she laughed dryly, “If you two keep it up I’m going to start lighting things on fire.” 

“Okay, why don’t we all just…relax for a second?” Liv interrupted swiftly as she held out her hand, stepping, wide-eyed, out from behind her desk and feeling like she was suddenly working in a daycare centre — with Chief Dodds as one of the kids and she never thought she’d ever have to say that to herself. 

But turns out, to her utmost surprise and complete and utter shock, there was a lot more personality behind his hard outer shell than she ever thought she’d see and honestly… if this was how a brief second in her office was with the three of them together then she’d hate to imagine what the holidays were like.

Mayhem, Liv. The Dodds' family holidays were absolute mayhem, and you should feel incredibly thankful that all three of them were forced to put their guns on the gun table before their gingerbread house competitions began at Christmas. Otherwise… you don’t even want to imagine how things would end up. 

Anyway, brushing those harrowing thoughts aside, Liv carried on and suggested, carefully, “Mel, why don’t you stay here with your brother and hold down the fort? Maybe show him around? Get him settled.”  

At the partial humour that unintentionally danced in Liv’s eyes at the idea of her playing tour guide instead of detective, Melanie’s face scrunched up in both disgust and disbelief. A tour guide? A frickin’ tour guide ? That’s how Liv wanted her to spend her morning? What’s next? Getting demoted to secretary and spending the rest of her days making coffee and printing copies for everyone until the patience-testing printer caused her to throw it and herself into oncoming traffic? 

She would rather be fired and sent to jail than ever do that, and with that in mind, alongside a sense of aggravation bubbling in her veins, Melanie stepped further into the office and opened her mouth. She was about to speak, to voice her very explicit opinion on where each and every one of them could shove that idea, but before she could her dad cut her off… Which was probably, and to Melanie’s own personal vexation as she knew it was right, for the best.  

“Better idea,” William cleared his throat, stepping subtly in front of Melanie as though shielding the others should her fuse run out and she explode like a firecracker. He then turned his attention to Liv, where he didn’t so much as ask, more like suggest… For all their sakes, “Why don’t you take Mike with you?”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed happily, “No better time to learn than the present.”

Kiss ass, Melanie said to herself yet she still turned her attention eagerly towards Liv, who looked a little …uncertain, almost, about the situation. Hesitant, too. Perhaps even intimidated as well, whether it be from Melanie’s sharp glare trying to force her to say no, William’s demanding eyes trying to force her to say yes, or Mike’s blank look as he contemplated his whole entire life, no one really knew. 

And neither did Liv, honestly. All she knew, unfortunately, was that she felt incredibly outnumbered. Overwhelmed , even, as there were far too many Dodds’ in her office than she was beginning to like and if she could, she’d do whatever it took to get rid of them. 

And so, she smiled, “Okay, then.” 

Mike was going with her…great, Melanie thought to herself. This was just…perfect. Exactly how she wanted her day to go, what with her newbie brother being allowed to get straight into action whilst she had to return to her desk and…type? Is that what she was supposed to do with her day? Type things? Maybe… Probably, actually, but honestly most of the time she was on desk duty she just ended up playing Papa’s Pizzeria all day until it was time to go home. 

“Son,” William began, clasping Mike’s shoulders supportively as they began to follow Liv out of the office, with Melanie trailing begrudgingly behind them. “You know what they say… Sink or swim.” 

Swallowing, Mike nodded semi-confidently and made his move to cross the squad room after Liv, Fin and Carisi, with such an added swagger to his otherwise normal walk that Melanie simply couldn’t bring herself to ignore it.  

“Aw, look at him. Acting all confident,” she said tauntingly, leaning back against the door frame and watching as Mike’s posture suddenly stiffened a little. Clearly he’d heard her, whether with his ears or his twin-mind, who knew…But luckily for her he was gone by the time she added, “Almost makes me want to loosen the screws on his chair.” 

“Melanie.” 

“What?” Melanie said innocently, fighting against the scheming smirk that wanted to rise on her face at William’s fatherly tone. She’d forgotten he was still there. “I said almost .”

“Hmm,” William hummed sceptically, narrowing his eyes towards her and watching as she tilted her head, smiling at him all sweet and childlike. 

Hell, she was practically batting her eyelashes at him as she showboated her innocence and if that wasn’t a sole cause for him to check Mike’s chair for any signs of sabotage, then lord knows what was.

Nevertheless, he shrugged it off as nothing more than wishful thinking and stepped towards her, patting Melanie on the shoulder with enough force that it dipped beneath him, “Now, my darling daughter, if you’d like to come with me.”  

“To where?” Melanie asked, pushing herself off the door frame as the excitement brewed inside her over the thought that maybe she wouldn’t have to spend the whole day making pizza for pixelated characters, after all. 

That was, until William’s lips curled into an all too telling smile and he replied happily, “To your desk. Where you’re going to stay until the very end of the day.” 

“Yeah,” Melanie scoffed, deflating like a balloon and allowing her dad to swivel her around where she stood, facing her directly towards her desk. “If I don’t kill myself first.” 

As she folded her arm across her chest, she fully expected her dad to then guide her across the room and back to her desk, where he’d all but have to force her knees to bend so he could shove her down into her seat and handcuff her there. But instead, to her confusion, all he did was remain still behind her, with his hands placed loosely on her shoulders and not a single word passing through his lips. 

“Dad?” Melane glanced to her side, her brow furrowing, “Did you malfunction?” 

A shallow, shudder of a breath left William’s lips in response and Melanie turned instantly, to find that all traces of humour were now gone from his face as his eyes stood fully closed. Her brow only fell deeper, with a sudden ball of anxiety growing and twisting in her stomach over what could possibly be wrong with him. Did he grow ill all of a sudden? Was he…having a heart attack? Was he dying? Every sort of sickening idea flew through Melanie’s racing mind and crippled her with worry until suddenly, she remembered. 

If I don’t kill myself first. 

God, that was the worst, most disgusting thing she could have ever said to him with what was so hauntingly approaching this time of year. Her shoulders quickly sank, a deep sigh leaving her nose as her eyes closed briefly and her anxiety vanished. Replaced with nothing but the overwhelming feeling of regret… Self-hatred… And some of the worst, most immense guilt she could ever have found herself drowning in.  

“Daddy, I’m sorry…” Melanie whispered, swallowing thickly and wishing, more than anything, that she could go back to ten seconds ago…to beforeshe said that.

Or actually, if she was wishing for anything, she’d wish to go back and stop herself from doing the very thing she had just joked about doing. And in front of her dad? The very person who had been the one to find her lying on the floor of her house with a needle in her arm that would have killed her , had he not had narcan in his car? How could she ever think that that was an appropriate thing to say to him? 

God, she felt terrible right now. Like the worst daughter she could ever be, and let me tell you that was saying something as in her life, she hadn’t exactly been the best one she could be. But she was trying. So, so hard was she trying to be a good daughter lately, yet she’d just gone and said that. What was wrong with her? Of all the fucked up things she could ever say that might relate back to a moment in her life, and she just had to go and joke about the one that almost ended it? Well, to say that she had royally fucked up her progress as daughter of the year would be an understatement and she could already feel herself sliding down the snake, and landing right back on square one. 

“I… I didn’t mean it,” Melanie shook her head, despite William still having his eyes closed. No doubt due to the fact that he’d probably only end up seeing her the way he did that day. “I was just kidding. I was just…please don’t be mad at me.” 

And just like that, William’s eyes shot open and they instantly softened, his hands raising to land gently on each side of her face, “Sweetheart, I’m not mad at you… I could never be mad at you, I just… It worries me, when you talk like that, that’s all.” 

“I know. And I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Melanie sucked in a shaky breath, trying her hardest to compose herself. “I didn’t think… About what I was saying. Or how it might make you feel… But, dad, you don’t need to worry about that anymore because I’m good. I’m in a good place right now…”

Aside from the fact that I’m making myself miserable on purpose by refusing to acknowledge my feelings for a certain ADA, Melanie added mentally, as if she said that to her dad then, his own personal grievance with Barba aside, he’d be trailing her to his office and making the two of them kiss like they were Barbie dolls. 

“Really, I am… I’ve got Mikey back. You and I aren’t butting heads as much as we normally do,” Melanie continued, a humorous smile tugging at her lips when she nudged her dad playfully, her heart then warming when he managed a small smile himself, as it wasn’t very often he allowed a genuine one flash across his otherwise stone-like face. “And aside from the fact that I’m under investigation for assault, I’m doing really well here at SVU… So you don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

“Melanie, I’m your father. No matter how good your life is, there won’t ever be a day when I stop worrying about you… Or about finding you like that again,” William confessed, watching as Melanie bit at her wobbling lip and tried her hardest to remain collected. “And I know some days it doesn’t seem like it. That it seems like I’m being purposely hard on you, but that’s only because I love you. And I don’t want to lose you.” 

The now fervent display of fear that ran deep in the lines of her father’s face broke Melanie's heart more than she ever thought possible after what she’d been through, and without saying a single word she fell against him. His arms wrapped around her immediately, holding her tightly enough that had she not had incredible lungs with a high capacity for holding air, he might have suffocated her.

But at that moment, she didn’t care. She didn’t need to breathe, she just needed him to know she wasn’t going anywhere, not any time soon. She really was in a good place right now despite what you might think, so it was important for her to let him know that she would never, under any circumstances, ever think about putting him in such a scenario again, where for a brief moment in time, he had to think that his only daughter had ended her life. 

“Now you be good today,” William said when the two of them had pulled apart, after realising they were still standing in full view of the squad room — many occupants of which were flabbergasted that the two of them so much as looked at each other, let alone hugged. “Stay at your desk. And please, no picking on your brother.” 

“I’ll stay at my desk, but I can’t guarantee I won’t pick on Mikey,” Melanie said humorously, as it was true. She couldn’t guarantee it and she was already planning to glue the wheels of his chair to the floor. 

“Well, I guess one out of two isn’t bad,” William shrugged, as he should have known better than to assume otherwise. 

“Exactly, but if it makes you feel any better, I’ll go easy on him.”

“It doesn’t, but I appreciate the gesture.” 

“You’re very welcome for it,” Melanie said playfully, hearing her dad chuckle softly as he set his hand on the side of her head and drew her closer to him, placing a soft kiss to her forehead before finally taking his leave. 

“Everything okay in here?” Rollins asked, passing Melanie by as she made her way back to her desk with a cup of decaf in her hands. “The whole squad room is staring at you like you just flashed them.” 

“They wish,” Melanie said with an abrupt laugh, yet at the same time her brow furrowed and she quickly cast her gaze across the room, finding that Rollins was, indeed, correct. 

The whole squad room was staring at her like that as every officer seemed to be suddenly frozen in place, with their mouths slightly gaped and their eyes as wide as could be without them popping right out of their skulls. Only, rather than it being because she flashed them, which she almost wished it was, it was simply because of the rarest, almost extinct, display of family affection they had all just had the pleasure(?) of witnessing. 

The entire time Melanie had worked there, they’d never once seen her hug the Chief… Or smile at him, in a way that wasn’t sarcastically mocking anyway. But most of all, they’d never seen him kiss her forehead. Nor did they ever think Melanie would allow him to do so and honestly… The shock-filled way in which those facts had them looking at her was making her rather uncomfortable and the more they did it, the more she felt the need to run her mouth. 

“What?” She asked, widening her own eyes as she stepped further into the room. “Are you all waiting on a briefing or something? Get back to work!” 

And as she clapped her hands together to emphasise her point, every officer jumped into action and returned to their business. 

“Damn girl,” Rollins chuckled, sipping on her coffee as she settled into her chair. “Part of me thinks the wrong Dodds might be in charge of this unit.” 

“Oh please, if my dad had noticed them staring like that they’d all be rushing to put in their transfer papers,” Melanie replied, sinking into her own seat and propping her feet up on her desk as she fired a glare at an officer who kept glancing towards her, making him jump beneath his skin and scarper off to work at a different part of the floor. “Honestly, it’s like working with an audience in here some days.” 

“Well, you do know how to put on a good show.” 

“Thank you,” Melanie said with irony, interlocking her fingers behind her head and leaning back in her chair as she closed her eyes, exhaling quietly, “It’s one of my many skills as a performer.” 

“Oh yeah?” Rollins raised her eyebrow curiously, “You, uh, you got other skills as a performer that we don’t know about?” 

At the slight dirty humour that riddled her tone, Melanie cracked open one eye just in time to see the mischief dance across Rollins’ features. She huffed out a chuckle, opening her other eye and adding playfully, “Honey, you flash me some cash and I will be more than happy to show you.” 

“You know, most days…” Rollins began, opening up her laptop, “I can’t tell when you’re joking.”

And neither could Melanie as her life was that much of a joke most days that she sometimes struggled to differentiate. 

As did her dad, which is partially the reason as to why Melanie’s good mood seemed to have shifted so violently to the left. And things had started off so great today too, which only made her feel that much worse. She’d had a really nice breakfast bagel from her favourite bodega, which was technically free as she bought it with a twenty dollar bill she’d found on her stoop when she left for work. She’d even had change left over to buy herself a donut on the way in and after that…things were going as well as could be expected for a detective bound to her desk under threat of criminal charges. 

The whole supposed incident with Campesi had been the last thing on her mind today, if she was being honest. It was Mike’s first day. She’d been thinking about that and she had really wanted to enjoy it for his sake. Yet here she was, still banished to her desk where she could do nothing but stew miserably over an irresponsible slip-up with her words that only left her wishing that somehow , she could fix it. But the damage was already done. Her dad, and herself, were both already reminded of that horrible day and really, there was only one thing that could ever make her feel a little less guilty over it entirely.

And that was solving the very case that started it. But unfortunately for her… as when would Melanie’s life ever be that easy? That case was colder than her mood, so the chances of her solving it in the next sixty or so minutes were practically non-existent. 

Nevertheless, she still chose to look into it, as it couldn’t help to glance over it again and see if there was the slightest chance she might have missed something. She knew it wasn’t possible, as she’d been over every detail with a fine tooth comb, but still, Melanie straightened herself in her chair and opened up her bottom drawer. She began to root around amongst the mess that was inside: crumpled up pieces of paper, candy bar wrappers, empty cans she’d been meaning to recycle but never bothered too, there were even full packets of chips lying half deflated amongst the handful of files that now called the drawer home, but eventually she worked her way past all that and found what she was looking for. 

Brushing off some crumbs, which fell back into the drawer full of mysteries, Melanie pulled out the thin manila dossier and, after shoving some of her ongoing cases aside for the time being, set it atop her desk. From just looking at the case file number on the top, she could already feel her chest tightening over the mere thought of what lay inside it. She didn’t really want to see it again, not today anyway, but she knew she had to. It had been months since her last attempt at cracking it and if she ever wanted to improve her mood before her brother came back to the squad room, then she at least needed to try. 

If not for her own sake, then for Mike and William’s as she seemed to forget, sometimes, that she wasn’t the only one who lost something that day. 

And so, with a barely audible sigh that shook as it worked its way past her lips, Melanie flipped open the dossier and got to work. 

Not that she had much to work with in the first place as there wasn’t anything in the folder besides a few crime scene photos, a single witness statement and the incident report. There was no evidence, no other eyewitness statements, not even a single damn camera that had picked anything up and to most detectives, this case would be known as a lost cause.

But Melanie wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t. It wasn’t in her to ever let something like this go, not until the person responsible was behind bars where they belonged. And with that need for justice coursing through her, and after getting herself some much need caffeine, she kept her head down and carried on, allowing her eyes to read and reread every single little detail in hopes of something sparking inside her mind that could help lead her towards the truth. 

But the more she read, the more frustrated she grew as there wasn’t anything in front of her that was new from the last time she’d gone over things. She always knew it was a long shot that she’d ever solve it, but that didn’t mean that each time she tried, that truth didn’t hit her hard. 

Hell, it didn’t even let her sleep most nights, knowing that person was still out there. She tossed and turned so much, with the memories of that day, and the days that followed, replaying constantly in her head, that she often ended up down stairs playing video games until the early hours of the morning. It’s why she was always tired. She slept no more than three hours a night before she had to resort to gaming to help keep her distracted. To help stop the haunting thoughts that had caused her to try to end her life in the first place from sparking in her head again.

And with that in mind, along with the irritating fact that she couldn’t come up with a single new piece of information, Melanie slammed her folder shut in frustration and threw it back into her drawer, kicking it with the side of her foot and causing a few officers jotted around the place to jump from the sudden sound of it slamming. 

“Is your blood sugar dropping?” Rollins asked absently, not even looking up from her laptop. “Do you need something to eat?” 

“No,” Melanie replied, her brow then dipping a little as come to think of it…she was a little hungry actually. “Well, maybe…” She added, before quickly shaking her head. “No, I just… I need a distraction. Something to…take my mind off the thoughts that are racing inside of it.” 

“You could take your meds.” 

“You could kiss my ass,” Melanie fired back, making Rollins chuckle as it hadn’t hurt to try. 

“You want me to call down to ballistics, see if they’ll let you test fire some weapons?” Rollins suggested for real, still not glancing up from her desk as she typed away. 

“No, I don’t want to do that,” Melanie breathed out, causing Rollins to instantly stop what she was doing and slowly turn to her, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape. “What?” 

“You don’t want to fire any weapons?” Rollins repeated, dumbfounded to say the least as that was Melanie's favourite thing to do. 

“I’m not allowed to hold weapons, or are you forgetting that?” Melanie uttered in annoyance, slumping back into her chair and slowly sliding down it until nothing but the upper part of her back was placed atop it. She then let out a frustrated groan, allowing the rest of her body to fall from the chair until she was lying on the floor. “If you need me, I’ll be down here…dying.”

“Alright, but if Carisi comes back and trips over you again I’m not taking him to the hospital.” 

“That’s okay… I’ll get Mikey to do it.” Melanie mumbled, hearing Rollins laugh quietly to herself as she turned back around on her chair. 

Melanie lay there on the coolness of the tiles for a minute or two, doing nothing but staring up at the darkening spots on the ceiling as she let the thoughts settle inside her mind. She knew she was being childish. That she was basically throwing a tantrum and causing actual police officers to have to step over her, without even batting an eye as it wasn’t the first time, but she just needed a minute of quiet and sometimes lying on the floor helped her get it.

Ding.

With a groan that amused Rollins greatly, Melanie reluctantly sat up from the floor quicker than she would have liked and began to blindly feel around the top of her desk for her phone. She knocked over her empty mug, scattering a few pens in the process but eventually she found it, dragging it back across the surface and allowing it to fall lazily into her lap. She picked it up, clicking it on and going straight to her message thread, where the only new text she had was from Mike. 

Mikey: How’s desk duty going? 

Melanie: It’s not, I’m on the floor

Mikey: Oh, naturally… But since you aren’t busy, you mind looking up a name for me? 

Melanie: I guess I can pull my laptop down onto my lap

Mikey: Atta girl. 

Melanie: What’s the name? 

Mikey: Anton Kransikov, he’s a famous flautist from Russia

Melanie: A what?

Mikey: He plays the flute 

Melanie: Gotcha… But yeah, I’ll check him out. 

Mikey: Thanks, we’re on our way back to the precinct now, shouldn’t be long 

Melanie: Great, will you grab me an energy drink from the vending machine on your way up? We’re all out in the break room 😊

Mikey: How many cups of coffee have you had today? 

Melanie: One 

Mikey: Mellie

Melanie: Okay, fine. I’ve had two… but I’ll drink decaf for the rest of the day, I promise🤞🏻

Mikey: Fine, I’ll get you one

Melanie: Yay! Thank you 🥰

Mikey: 👍🏻

A thumbs up? God he is such a dad sometimes, Melanie thought to herself as she lazily got up from the floor and tossed her phone back onto her desk. With a faint groan, she stretched out her back and arms then plopped herself down in her chair, quickly tidying up the pens she’d scattered around earlier before setting her empty mug on Carisi’s desk. She flipped open her laptop, heading straight for the NYPD database to begin her search into Anton Krasnikov. 

It wasn’t long after she’d come back from the break room after printing out Anton’s file, did the others eventually return with that very man in tow, who Melanie had to admit, didn’t look like a flautist. Fin and Carisi led him to the interview room immediately as Mike made his way towards her, setting her energy drink on her desk and watching as her lips rose into a smile.  

“Thank you,” Melanie said gratefully, cracking open the can and taking that first small sip of the glorious caffeine within. “Ah, just what I needed.” 

“Savour it,” Mike told her, lifting the file on Anton from her desk as she continued to sip away. “It’s the only one you’re allowed to drink today.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Melanie brushed off, taking one more sip before she set the can on her desk and glanced around. “Where’s Liv?” 

“Oh, she ran into Tucker downstairs,” Mike said casually, flipping briefly through the file Melanie had put together for him and not even bothering to acknowledge the way her face had fallen. “She told me to head on up.” 

“Wonderful,” Melanie muttered dryly, rolling her eyes. “I wonder what IAB wants with me now.” 

“They want to give you this,” Liv said suddenly as she rounded the corner, drawing Melanie’s curious gaze up to meet her. She carried on across the bullpen, a pleased smile holding up her lips as she set Melanie’s very own gun on her desk. “Your alibi checked out…You’re off the hook, detective.” 

Melanie’s brow dipped, “I don’t have an alibi.”  

“Well, apparently you do,” Liv replied, glancing briefly towards Mike who remained with his nose buried deep in his file. “And it must be a good one. Tucker said there was absolutely no way that you could have been responsible for Campesi’s attack.” 

“What’s gonna happen to her?” Melanie asked curiously. She’d deal with her alibi revelation later, but for now she just wanted to know what they planned to do about Campesi. “Are they gonna charge her with conspiracy?”

“Conspiracy?” Liv repeated in confusion, and even Mike looked up from his file as Melanie hadn’t said anything to him about a conspiracy. “What makes you think it was that?” 

“Um, everything?” Were they blind or just stupid, Melanie thought to herself, as it was clearly a conspiracy to get back at her for testifying. 

“Mellie, I don’t think she was conspiring to frame you for assault,” Mike said, closing his file and tucking it under his arm. “I think she genuinely thought it was you.” 

“Are you being serious?” Melanie chuckled delusionally, as Liv she got, but Mike? Be for real right now. “She clearly set this whole thing up from the start!” 

“Okay, just take a breather,” Liv said calmly, raising her hand and motioning for Melanie to settle, which she did. A little. She took a sip of her energy drink, but honestly Liv didn’t know whether or not that would make things better. Or worse. “I did ask Tucker what he planned to do with her, and he told me that they have no interest in pressing charges.” 

“No interest?” Melanie scoffed, her fingers tightening around her can. “So she can frame me for assault and what? Get off scot free?” 

“She’s already under indictment for manslaughter, I think she has it tough enough already.” Liv said, yet she regretted it the second it passed her lips when Melanie’s jaw clenched and even Mike took a step back. 

“Oh, sure,” Melanie began, her tone oozing with sarcasm as she let go of her can before she caused it to erupt all over her desk, “I almost lost my job. There’s parents out there mourning the loss of their son but Campesi is the one who has it tough. Of course, how silly of me to suggest we pile any more on top of her.” 

Liv sighed, “Can’t you just be happy that you’re cleared?” 

“Oh, I am thrilled,” Melanie said chipperly — which was forced, of course, and paired nicely with her signature satirical smile that stretched from ear to ear, making Liv have to refrain from rolling her eyes at her dramatisation. “I get my gun back and IAB lets Campesi off the hook for lying about it? I literally couldn’t be any happier.” 

With her smile swiftly swapping to a scowl, it was Melanie’s turn to roll her eyes as she fell silent…as if she attempted to sound any more sarcastically cheerful about the complete bullshit that was this situation then she was going to hurl. 

But she gets it, though…She almost gets framed for assault but because Campesi is already under indictment for manslaughter there’s no point in piling any more on top of her. Seems fair. It was only Melanie’s entire life on the line, but whatever…she was cleared so it’s no big deal, right? Why waste time trying to get to the truth when there were far more pressing matters to attend to? Figures. No one at IAB ever seemed to give a shit about Melanie unless she was the one in the line of fire, where they were never happier than when they got to pull the trigger. 

“This is a gift horse, Mel,” Liv said, lightly tapping her fingers atop Melanie's desk to draw her murderous gaze back to reality. “Now do me a favour, don’t look it in the mouth.”  

“I hate proverbial phrases,” Melanie said bluntly, slipping her gun back into her holster as Liv simply smiled knowingly, only adding to Melanie’s mood as…she’d done that on purpose. She then waved her hand lazily, brushing it off in a barely intelligible mumble, “Just… Whatever. Thanks for getting me my gun back, I guess.” 

“Oh, don’t thank me,” Liv said, causing Melanie’s eyes to slowly narrow as she backed up towards her office. “Thank whoever was smart enough to tell Tucker the truth.” 

And with that, Liv was gone as she didn’t want to be anywhere near Melanie when she got a hold of Mike. 

“You’re right,” Melanie said to herself, nodding her head and slowly spinning on her chair to face her brother, her tone falling childishly as she said his name, “Mikey, would you care to explain?” 

“Wait,” Mike chuckled in disbelief, “You think I told Tucker where you were?”

“Well who else could it be?”

“I thought you said you didn’t have an alibi?” Rollins asked curiously, yet she almost wished she hadn’t when both twins' eyes landed directly onto her. “You know what… Nevermind.” 

A satirical smile rose on Melanie’s lips as she silently agreed, watching as Rollins stood up from her chair and happily took the file on Anton from Mike before scurrying across the room towards Liv’s office. It wasn’t until she disappeared inside it, did both twins turn back towards each other and Melanie’s lips part, about to spew out another accusation before Mike swiftly cut her off.

“I know we’ve been at odds for a while, Mellie, but if you think that I broke our bond over this...” 

“Who else could it have been, Mikey?” Melanie cut him off, standing abruptly up from her chair as she didn’t like the way he was looking down at her. “Are you forgetting that you’re the only one I told?” 

“No, but you seem to be forgetting that there’s one other person involved in this,” Mike said a little angrily, before he took a step back and sucked in a breath. He placed his hands on his hips, firing glares at those who were watching — all of whom couldn’t help but think that Daddy Dodds was finally out of the boxing ring and that Big Dodds was in — as he quickly calmed himself down. “The guy… The one you were with, did you ever stop to think that maybe he told IAB?” 

And just like that, the sudden realisation kicked in and Melanie’s eyes widened, the pieces clicking back together inside her mind as whilst she was freaking out thinking that someone was following her, or worse, that Mike had broken the twin confessional, she had completely forgotten… She had been in Barba’s apartment. He had literally been there too and if Mike wasn’t the one who told Tucker the truth…Then there was simply no one else it could have been. 

“Oh, he didn’t,” Melanie breathed out, placing her hands on her head and gripping her hair just to feel something other than… God, she didn’t even know what she felt right now as today had been a whirlwind of emotions and it wasn’t even past noon yet. “He’s gonna get himself into trouble.” 

“Well, maybe he doesn’t care about that,” Mike said softly, closing the gap between them should there be any ears dropping eaves around them. “As like I said the other day… Perhaps the only thing he truly cares about is you.” 

“That’s no excuse,” Melanie gritted stubbornly, grabbing her phone from her desk and ignoring the deep sigh Mike let out as he watched her make her way towards the bunk room. 

“Go easy on the poor guy, would you?” Mike called after her, causing her to glance back over at him questionably. “He saved your ass, just remember that.” 

With a partially mocking, and sibling accurate smile, Melanie carried on towards the bunk room with her phone gripped so tightly in her hand she could already feel the dents forming in her palm. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe that Barba had gone to Tucker without telling her first. And okay sure, it was partially her fault for not letting him know that she didn’t want him to go to Tucker because she didn’t want anyone to find out where she was, but then again…how could she tell him that? 

How could she possibly begin to explain to Barba that the reason as to why she’d rather go down for assault than confess to IAB that she’d been at his apartment, was because she was scared? That she was worried about dragging his name through the mud should people think the two of them were involved? 

Spoiler alert, she couldn’t. There was simply no good place to start that conversation and no matter what anyone said…no matter how many times Mike kept telling her that perhaps Barba only really cared about her, Melanie would never be able to bring herself to tell him the truth. He’d only try to convince her otherwise and whilst he may turn out to only care about her, she wasn’t about to let him possibly ruin his career by getting involved with someone like her. It wouldn’t be fair. She was damaged goods, and Barba deserves far better than a mess like her. 

He deserves someone who has their life together. Who doesn’t have as much emotional baggage as she does and if that means her own heart gets broken in the process then so be it. It wasn’t like all the pieces were there anyway, so what were a few more chipping away if not nothing? 

Regardless of that though, it didn’t mean she was letting this go. She needed to understand why he did what he did and so, as the door to the bunk room slammed noisily behind her, Melanie pulled up Barba’s contact within seconds of entering and called him. 

He picked up immediately. 

“What the hell did you do?” Melanie demanded, having barely given the dial tone a second to click off before she did and perhaps this wasn’t what Mike meant when he told her to go easy on him.

But, oh well. She was pissed. She was…sad. She was all over the place today and Barba should be damn lucky she hadn’t chosen to visit him in person. 

“Good morning, Melanie, how are you?” Barba greeted, his tone soaked in sarcasm and if Melanie closed her eyes, she could practically see that smug little smirk of his. 

“Don’t you get all nice with me, Rafael Barba, I know what you did.” 

“What I did?” Barba repeated questionably, clearly playing dumb and Melanie could tell by the grin that all but travelled through the phone. “I must confess, detective, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sighing, Melanie gritted, “Rafael.”  

“Melanie,” Barba exhaled, in a defined exaggeration of Melanie’s own exasperated tone.

With a delusional chuckle, Melanie moved the phone from her ear and pressed it hard against her forehead, feeling the curved edge of her shark-patterned phone case digging deep into her skin, where it would no doubt leave a mark. Was this what it was like dealing with her? Was this how irritated and exhausted other people felt when she acted like this? Because if so… Boy, did she owe a lot of people a gift basket…coincidently starting with Barba himself. 

Pressing her lips together regrettably, yet knowing damn well she wouldn’t be changing her attitude for a second, Melanie dropped the phone back down to her ear and allowed her tone to soften, “Please, Rafael, just tell me… Why did you go to Tucker?

“Because you’re being framed for assault, that’s why,” Barba said plainly, “ And because you had a solid, perfectly believable alibi, which I must say hurt to hear you didn’t use.”  

Even though he was clearly joking, she hoped , Melanie’s heart still twinged as she lowered her voice, mumbling almost sadly “I did that for your sake.” 

“My sake?” 

“Yes, your sake,” Melanie replied, with an empty chuckle she had to force to leave her throat should Barba suspect she was almost tearing up at the sudden memory of her own fears. “To save you the trouble it might bring you should people start thinking that we… you know .”

Even though he couldn’t see her, Melanie still widened her eyes and tilted her head knowingly, as if to help implicate her clear and obvious meaning without actually having to say it out loud. You know, like a good detective with an important secret they’d like to keep…which honestly is something Barba should really take a lesson in as he wasn’t at all shy about putting that scenario out freely into the world.    

“What?” Barba questioned, almost tauntingly as it was interesting to know that that’s where her mind went with all of this. “You’re worried they might think we slept together?” 

“God,” Melanie exhaled, flinching the sudden verbal announcement and she couldn’t help but begin to glance almost nervously around her. “Can you not say it so loud? Someone could hear you.”

“Who’s gonna hear me?” Barba asked, outwardly amused by her sudden shyness for all things sexual. He then slurped purposely at his coffee as he basked in it, making Melanie's expression fall instantly blank as she always hated that sound. And he knew it. “I’m in my office, there’s no one here.” 

“What about Carmen?” 

“Well, yes she’s here,” Barba said casually, causing a soft noise of exclaim to leave the back of Melanie’s throat that he took to mean no one’s around, my ass . “But relax, mi cariño, she’s learned to drown out the exact frequency of my voice by now, so you needn’t worry.” 

Melanie huffed in amusement, “That’s not surprising, you do love the sound of it.” 

“Yeah, and I bet you do too,” Barba muttered smugly, and Melanie raised her eyebrow. 

“What’s that now?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Melanie uttered as she rolled her eyes, yet the swiftness and playful innocence to his answer still made her smile from ear to ear, her stomach fluttering in a disgustingly affectionate way as he was right… She did love the sound of his voice and she could only ever dream of hearing it in the way she knew he meant. 

“Look,” Barba began, the soft squeaking of leather following faintly behind telling Melanie he’d sat up in his chair. Time to get serious. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I was going to Tucker, but I knew that once I did…you would have handcuffed me to my desk and threw the key into the river.” 

“You’re damn right I would!” Melanie agreed, before taking a second to calm herself as she was well aware that she’d just yelled at him. She sighed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, it's just… You could get into trouble.”  

“For what?” Barba scoffed, “Providing a safe place for an inebriated detective to spend the night? You’re right…I should be taken out back and shot.” 

At his witty tone, Melanie's caring mood fell swiftly and she glared at him through the phone, “Keep up the attitude and I’ll be pulling the trigger myself.” 

“See, and you wouldn’t be able to do that had I not gotten your gun back, now would you?” Barba asked tauntingly, to which Melanie stayed silent as she burned a hole into the bunk mattress in front of her with how fierce her gaze was. She wasn’t going to answer him. Absolutely not, the smug bastard, and when he came to that conclusion himself, he breathed out in satisfaction, “That’s what I thought, now are you done berating me for saving your skin? I’m needed in court.” 

“For now,” Melanie hissed, “But you better watch your ass cause I’m coming for it.” 

“Now who’s being unprofessional?” 

“I hate you.” 

“Mhm,” Barba hummed knowingly, unphased by her words. “I’ll call you later.” 

“You better and…” Melanie sucked in a breath, letting it out in a soft, but sweet, whisper, “Thank you, Rafael, it was really considerate of you to do that for me.” 

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Barba said, in a tone so utterly quiet Melanie might have missed it had she not been holding her breath. 

“And that’s what worries me,” Melanie whispered, her heart aching terribly in her chest as she’d already known he’d do anything for her but to hear him say it out loud?

Well…perhaps repressing these deep seated feelings she had for him wouldn’t be as easy as she’d hoped. 

The two of them parted ways moments after a brief stint of silence where neither of them knew what to say, as Barba really was needed in court and Melanie didn’t think she could stomach another second talking to him on the phone should she say anything she shouldn’t. She pocketed it immediately, after typing a quick note to herself to make sure she picked Barba up a bottle of scotch as a means to say thank you properly, as the way in which she really wanted to…she knew she’d never be able to bring herself to do. 

And after lying face down on a bunk for…God knows how long, Melanie finally made her way back into the squad room. Rollins was gone, Fin and Carisi were both still in with Anton, and the only person left sitting at their desk was Mike. She headed towards him almost instantly, her soft footsteps gaining his attention as he lifted his eyes from his computer screen. 

“You okay?” Mike asked, a little worried by his sister’s sudden deflation.

“We’ll see,” Melanie exhaled tiredly, leaning back against his desk as Mike let it go, as he knew it would be useless to press her further for information. She’d come to him when she was ready to, but for now, it was back to the case. “What are you doing?”

“Booking a date with an escort,” Mike replied casually, watching as Melanie’s brow furrowed and she seemingly forgot about her own love life. 

“Oh, Mikey, are you really that lonely?” 

“That’s very funny,” Mike muttered, easily unamused and that only made Melanie smile. Thankfully. He then went on to explain what was happening with the case. That Anton had spent the night with an escort who then ended up robbing him and drugging him, which only led to him then assaulting the victim, Alessandra. “So I figured, the best way to track down this Savannah would be to book a date with her.”

“Smart, I guess,” Melanie said with a partial shrug, picking at her nail polish as a soft sigh left her lips. She couldn’t be less interested in working right now, if she was being honest. 

Earlier had really taken it out of her and if she could, she’d pack up her things and head home for the day.

“You want to help me collar her?” Mike asked, his eyebrow raising as he gently nudged her. “Maybe even take down her pimp in the process?” 

At that, Melanie perked up visibly, “You know I’m all for taking down pimps.” 

“Good,” Mike chuckled, rolling back in his chair and getting to his feet. “Now go grab your jacket, I don’t want to keep my date waiting.”  

With a little more pep in her step, Melanie pushed off the desk and rounded it, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair and slipping her arms into it. She then followed Mike as he headed for the stairwell, as unlike anyone else on the team he always chose to take the stairs whenever the two of them had to go somewhere together. They descended them quickly, making their way across the foyer and out onto the street before climbing into the car, which, in case you’re wondering, Mike was driving as he fully intended on surviving his first day on the job. 

“So,” Melanie began, pulling her knife from her pocket and beginning to flip it as they set off for the motel. “How’s your first day going?”  

Mike let out a scoff as he shuffled in his seat, “It could be better.” 

“Oh boy,” Melanie chuckled, shaking her head. “What did you do?” 

“Aside from offer telling Carisi to drop my name with hotel security, offering a rape victim a glass of water before her rape kit and telling Liv that dad assigned me here to take pressure off her, nothing much.” 

“Damn, you hit the trifecta,” Melanie exhaled, her eyes widening as she drew her gaze out the window. “Might as well just hand in your shield at the end of the day.” 

“Thanks for your support,” Mike muttered sarcastically, hearing Melanie laugh quietly to herself as she flipped her knife closed. He then glanced at her from the corner of his eye, still keeping his focus on the road as she shuffled around to face him.

“Mikey, it’s your first day here, no one expects you to be perfect… I know I wasn’t,” She said, all traces of humour gone from her tone, and her eyes. “I almost blew my first case, but the more I watched how those around me did things…The more I picked up, so just hang back. Don’t try so hard to make a good impression and whatever you do… Do not play the dad card.” 

“Wish you’d told me that ten minutes ago,” Mike mumbled, as he literally had played the dad card and he was already starting to reconsider his transfer. “The Lieutenant all but told me off for even booking this date.” 

“Look, one thing you need to know about Liv is that sometimes… she sees the world in nothing more than black and white.” 

“How do you mean?” Mike asked curiously, glancing towards her again as she bit at the skin of her lip. 

“I just…” Melanie took a breath, running her fingers through her hair. “I don’t want to affect your opinion of her but she’s very… shoot first ask questions later.” 

“So like you?” 

“What? No,” Melanie said, offended. “No, I don’t shoot unless I know someone is guilty whereas Liv… she’s very quick to assume that they are and sometimes… I think that she sees everyone as a victim, that’s all.” 

“I see,” Mike mused, yet he couldn’t help but find it a little strange as Liv did seem very eager to wrap up this case even though Anton himself might have been a victim. 

Nevertheless, he said nothing. He trusted his sister’s opinion, maybe even more than his own, as over the years her intuitions had never once been wrong about someone. She told him from the get-go that he couldn’t trust his ex, and what do you know, she turned out to be cheating on him. Not to mention, she knew when their parents were getting divorced even before they did and honestly…Mike often wondered if they were meant to be triplets but that she’d somehow absorbed the other one and ended up with a third eye.

But anyway, back to the case… 

It wasn’t long before the twins arrived at the world's seediest motel. Mike had gone straight to his room to get himself ready, whereas Melanie hung back in the damp, smelly hallway, waiting just around the corner for Savannah to show up so she could then kick down the door and arrest her. But unfortunately, things didn’t go that smoothly and an entirely different escort to the one Mike had booked in with showed up, meaning, as a result of their planned being ruined, they had to put a call in to the pimp, Slice. 

Slice was a scrawny looking guy, with a terrible moustache and an even worse Hawaiian shirt, which is why Melanie wasn’t too worried when he eventually showed up and entered Mike’s room. She lingered outside, with her ear pressed to the door and her gun in her hand should things go south…as you never know what a pimp might be capable of when it came to defending his money. 

Not that Melanie didn’t have faith that Mike could handle himself but sometimes even the most underestimated of people could cause the most damage, and as soon as she heard Mike’s raised voice as he identified himself, she was quick to kick down the door. Mike was already disarming Slice as she did and she pulled out her cuffs, tossing them towards him and watching as he caught them without so much as even looking at her. 

“Look, my girl didn’t didn’t do anything and you didn’t pay anything,” Slice babbled, a soft grunt leaving his lips as Mike shoved him against the table to cuff him. “So what the hell is this? Some kind of shakedown? Huh, how much you want?” 

“You hear that, Mikey?” Melanie questioned, irony riddling her tone as she delved further into the room. 

“Yeah, I do,” Mike replied, spinning Slice around and keeping him in place as Melanie approached them. 

“Attempting to bribe a detective and a sergeant?” Melanie chuckled dryly, shaking her head. “Man, you must just be dying to see the inside of a jail cell.” 

Slice sighed, “What the hell do you want?” 

“We want to talk to Savannah,” Mike replied plainly, jostling Slice a little to gain his attention as he did not like the way he kept ogling Melanie. “You get her here, this all goes away.” 

Turns out, however, that Savannah was too keen on answering the phone, thus resulting in the twins having to drag Slice’s scrawny ass down the station. They threw him into the interrogation room, taking turns trying to get him to pick up the damn phone again before either one of them lost their temper. 

It was quite the show, for the others, watching as the twins bounced off each other so smoothly it could have been like watching one singular person doing the interview. But unfortunately for everyone, it didn’t last too long before Slice said the magic word. He lawyered up, no more than five minutes after having entered the room and thus ended the interview. 

“You wanna lawyer up, Slice? You go ahead,” Mike said, his palms on the table as he leaned forward, looking Slice directly in the face as Melanie waited patiently behind him. “You’re free to do that, but you're on my list now… Which means I’m free to follow you. Tap your phone. Question your girls.” 

“Come on man,” Slice said defensively, “I ain’t a bad guy. Savannah stole from me too.” 

“Then find her,” Mike gritted, slamming his closed fist down onto the table. “And if you don’t…I don’t care what bus you get on or what hole you crawl into. I will track you down and pull your testicles out through your throat.” 

And with that eye widening, ‘ did he just say what I think he just said?’ moment dropped so suddenly before them, those who were watching glanced towards each other in shock. However, not one of them said a single word as they didn’t need to, not when the exact same thought was plastered hauntingly over each and every one of their faces…

Oh dear Lord… There’s two of them. 

<- Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 ->

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tags: @the-nerd-dimension @doublebassallie

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: April 19, 2024, immediately before this LOCATION: Airport / Airplane PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Metzli (@muertarte), & Xóchitl (@vanishingreyes) SUMMARY: Anita, Metzli and Xóchitl make their way to Ireland!

Despite having very little context for why this impromptu trip was occurring, Anita was quite excited to head off to Ireland - not just because of the vague promise of seeing Siobhan naked.  Life had been so hectic over the past few months and she had begun to question the choices she made that had led her to this town, and all of the complications that came with living in Wicked’s Rest. A trip, a chance of scenery and pace, felt like exactly what she needed to refresh. So while it seemed odd when Siobhan had invited her to go visit her hometown but the inherent curiosity to learn more about her strange and beautiful co-worker was really all she needed to say yes. The fact that Xóchitl and Metzli had also been invited was really just icing on the cake. 

The semester was nearing its end and Anita had been able to cash in a few favors from the other professors in her program to cover her classes while she’d be away. She had packed nearly twice as many bags as Metzli, not wanting to be in a situation where she didn’t have the perfect outfit for whatever activities they might be partaking in. It took a bit of rearranging, but there had still been plenty of room in the car to accommodate Xó’s bags. After all, it made more sense to carpool to the airport. 

Knowing that Metzli was feeling a bit uneasy about the idea of going on an airplane, Anita had set the radio to their favorite station for the drive to the airport - turned off. “Have either of you looked up the area where we’re going to much? Seems like more country than city living. Pretty sure the whole state of Maine is bigger than the whole country, though, so I’m sure we’ll have time to see a bit of everything if we want.” 

_ 

“There are going to be too many people.” Metzli rocked idly in the back, grumbling half to themself and half to their companions in the front. Normally they’d have taken the passenger seat, but given they were leaving during the day, the best protection from the sun that they had would be in the back, where the windows had been tinted perfectly for them. They were grateful for that, finding so much relief in the way Anita had been so accommodating. She even went as far as to keep the noise to a minimum, further adding to the comfort they were experiencing. 

It felt important and necessary. Not just because Metzli needed it, but because Xóchitl still didn’t know their true nature. There were enough variables to keep the vampire from relaxing, but because Anita knew them so well, they were rolling their wrists contentedly and sipping on a bag of blood as if it were a capri-sun. Another of Anita’s accommodations. She insisted on the sunglasses too, and Metzli agreed so they could hide their eyes. Though, something told them it gave her some sort of amusement. Probably the snort and a laugh she released. That had to be a clue. 

“How much longer?” They grumbled again, taking a sippy break. “I have been too anxious about flying in this metal bird to do Googling on Ireland. It is not natural to be in the sky in metal.” A shiver raked up their spine and they groaned into a sulk, continuing to sip to alleviate their irritation. 

_ 

She knew that she could use some spontaneity in her life. Not that Xóchitl had been non-spontaneous recently, but still. Going on a trip to Ireland was something she hadn’t done before. Anita and Metzli were coming too, which only added to the fun. She’d immediately agreed when Anita had suggested carpooling, because that just meant less unnecessary complexity. Emilio had agreed to watch over Esperanza, so there was that taken care of, even though Xóchitl would’ve liked to take her, and even though that would’ve helped quell any sort of anxiety she had, Esperanza was better off with Emilio and Teddy and Perro.

“We’re here for you, Metzli. Just concentrate on that.” She offered them a small smile from the front seat. “You can wear headphones on the plane, and you’ll be safe.” Xóchitl knew that she couldn’t technically guarantee that, but even just mentioning it had to be some sort of helpful. Hopefully.

“Yeah,” she nodded at Anita. “I looked it up a tiny bit because I like research, what can I say? But it’s more country-like, but we should go to a city sometime if we get the chance. I just want to see an authentic Irish sheep. Which sounds silly, perhaps, but you’ve got to appreciate the little things. Plus I want to try Bailey’s Irish Creme and also whatever other classic alcohols are there.” Another turn back to Metzli, “it’s wild and not natural, yeah, but it’s also a miracle, according to some. I know it’s how Mama and Manman went to México and also Haiti, and it was more efficient than driving or taking a boat. Besides, I brought snacks.” She tapped her bag. 

_ 

“We’re close. Not much further to the parking area,” Anita reassured Metzli. There were a lot of things that she wanted to say to Metzli, both to poke a bit of fun at them and to try and calm them further. After all, people always said normalcy helped calm people when they were anxious about a new experience, and normalcy for them was Anita poking fun. But she’d have to be careful, not just in the car but for the duration of the trip, with what she said around Xóchitl. Especially since Xó would still be able to understand her if she switched to speaking in Spanish. By this point, having known her for some time, Anita was fairly certain she was as human as humans came. A shame, really, but the reality of the situation. Not only was she exceptionally human but she was unaware of the fact that she was sitting in a car with two fanged beings. 

“It’s not natural to be in a metal carriage driving around but you do that. You’ll see, the plane isn’t anything to be scared about.” Anita did not want to be dismissive about their concerns but she also wanted to show them that this was a normal thing to be doing. “I definitely want to check out some of the city life,” she agreed, turning her attention to Xó, “not sure they’re well known for tequila but I suppose the trip would warrant a departure from my drink of choice to test out these whiskeys they are supposed to be famous for.” 

As they passed a sign noting that the airport was only a few more miles away, Anita relayed the information to Metzli in the back seat. “I’m also excited about exploring the countryside too, though. I don’t think they have a particularly diverse ecosystem but I’m interested to see what kind of insects might be around where we’ll be staying. Wouldn’t that be fun, Met? Going on some nature hikes. We could go at night, too, to get a sense of what kind of nocturnal creepy crawlies they’ve got.” 

_ 

“Yes, but the metal carriage is closer to the ground and is not in the sky!” Metzli softly exclaimed, not really going into a true yell. They knew better than to raise their voice at their friends, especially when they’d done nothing wrong. It was just the anxiety and overall change in routine that put their mood on edge. They sulked, their head sinking in embarrassment. “I am sorry. I will not yell again. New things is hard.” With that clarity and awareness, Metzli clung to it and began to rock themself in their seat, counting up to eight before repeating themself. It was their safe number, and each one leading up to it would get them through the new experience. 

Two of which were sitting up in front, while a few remained at home and a few others resided in Ireland. For now. 

“I appreciate both of you. Almost forget about my phonies.” With another deep breath and a pat to their bag, the bristling at the back of Metzli’s neck began to settle, and taking a final gulp from their pouch relaxed them completely. “Crawlies are good. Will you help me take pictures on my phone? I want to have memories to show Leila.” They paused, thinking of all the things their partner had recommended they do on their first trip outside of home. “She say I should also take photos of myself. Maybe we can do this with the whiskey.” Their head tilted curiously as they searched through their memories with their roommate. “Have I had this, Anita?” If they had, Metzli couldn’t recall it. Then again, they rarely asked questions when Anita put a drink in their hand. 

“Are we there yet?”

_ 

“You don’t have to say sorry, and that wasn’t yelling, promise.” She still felt a need to reassure Metzli at every turn, to make sure, perhaps, that they didn’t retreat into themself again, like they had when they’d first met. But right now wasn't the time to focus on things like that – on things that could be seen as a bad omen, or anything else. Not that Xóchitl was going to voice that particular train of thought right now (or ever, but right now seemed especially necessary).

“New things are very hard, and sometimes a lot of shit. But we’re here, and so it’ll be good.” Xóchitl would’ve winced at how falsely optimistic she sounded, because it wasn’t who she was (not really, though she supposed she was more of a cheerful person than she ever would’ve admitted, which, ick. Maybe.)

Still, she wanted to be there for Anita and Metzli even if she didn’t understand exactly why she was going to Ireland, but a trip wouldn’t be bad, right? It was even something that she’d wanted to do, and since Emilio hadn’t taken her up on her offer to go traveling.

“We’ll take lots of pictures, happy to help you, and to take some of you and for you too. My… boyfriend probably wants photos too.” Xóchitl rolled her shoulders back. “We’re not there yet, but we’ll make it work. Okay? That’s a promise.”

_ 

It wasn’t long after that Anita pulled her car into the long-term parking lot at the airport. They were a bit earlier than she would have been arriving for a flight by herself, but she didn’t want there to be any unexpected stresses that came up. “Okay, Aer Lingus is flying out of Terminal C. I already pre-paid for checked bags, so we just need to drop our stuff off at the main counter before going through security.” She took the keys out of the car after she parked, then looked back at Metzli, “People are going to be very dumb and annoying, okay? Just stand in between me and Xó so dumb people don’t bother you.” 

The airport was expectedly crowded, full of dumb people all pushing forward to get to their gate only to sit around for an hour before their flight even boarded. Anita had been through many airports before, but she knew that the experience was going to be a lot for Metzli, no matter how much she tried to prepare them. As they were loading their items up on the security belt, the woman behind Anita kept trying to push forward and shove her in the middle of their group. “What time is your flight?” She asked, somewhat innocuously to the woman after her second attempt to squeeze in. “It’s at 3,” the woman huffed back in response. 

Anita smirked, intentionally taking a long time to take off her shoes so Metzli and Xó could go through security ahead of her. “That’s fantastic. Sounds like you have plenty of time to calm your ass down, stop being a maldito pendejo, and still get to your flight with time to spare.” The group managed to get to their gate without incident, however, their journey was just getting started. 

_ 

Anita was perfect to have around when there were crowds involved. She had an intimidating energy that parted people to the side without her needing to speak. Although, she always did take the opportunity to impart a little vicious wisdom on some people. It made Metzli feel seen and taken care of, like they finally knew what family meant. What it felt like. 

They hardly minded the way the cool lights overhead buzzed and thrummed when they were required to take off the phonies for security. It felt pretty easy, for the most part. Their fake passport worked and Metzli had mentally prepared to manipulate the crew to let them through, but they were fortunate enough to not need that ability. Sometimes using it was inevitable, they knew that. It just felt better to not have the need to control people. They knew what it felt like to have everything taken. All too well, in fact.

“Thank you.” Quickly, Metzli took their bag and placed the phonies back on their head. Everything muffled instantly and a sense of calm surrounded them with warmth. “One…two…three…four…” Metzli counted quietly to themself, absentmindedly reaching for Anita’s hand once she stood next to them. Their thumb massaged the back of her hand, a pattern that kept in time with their counting. It kept them peaceful, from biting anything. Well, besides the inside of their cheek.

_ 

Anita had a good point about people being very dumb and annoying – there certainly seemed to be a higher concentration of that in airports. If she could help Metzli not have to deal with that as much, then that alone would be a win itself. Finding the gate wasn’t too bad either – and not that Xóchitl believed in good luck signs, not really (so much of her life would be different if those were real), but the three of them moving smoothly through the airport and finding their gate was seemingly seamless, and she’d take that win.

“Do either of you want drinks or snacks? I brought some, but figured we could always get more if we want. It’s overpriced but sometimes chips from airports taste even better than ones from the store.” Xóchitl shrugged. Thankfully, they’d be called in one of the first groups, if not the first group, which would undoubtedly make all of this easier. The sooner she could get a glass of wine, the better.

Without missing a beat after Metzli grabbed her hand, Anita reached over and linked her free arm in with Xóchitl’s as the group made their way to the gate. After finding the most secluded seating area possible near their gate, which was still not all that secluded, she pulled out her phone to see when their boarding time was. “Have you ever known me to say no to a drink?” She teased with a grin, “That’s one of the best parts about airports, if you ask me, there is almost always an open bar somewhere.” 

_ 

“They should be calling our group to board in less than thirty minutes.” Anita almost noted that was the expected time provided there were no unforeseen delays, given how often those seemed to happen during air travel. But it seemed like an unnecessary possibility to speak out into the universe. “If you two want to hold down the fort here, I’ll go get us all a round of mezcal?” It was a question mainly to Metzli, as Anita wasn’t sure if they would want a drink or not. She had packed a few travel sized bottles of blood for them since it wasn’t exactly a short flight, and was thrilled that they didn’t raise any suspicions going through security. Then she turned to Xó, with a warm smile, “And whatever flavor of deliciously overpriced chips your heart desires.” 

After getting everyone’s orders in, Anita went off to the nearest bar. Which was within spitting distance, practically. It didn’t take long for her to return with several overpriced libations, a few salty treats, and a few sweet ones. That was what humans did, wasn’t it? Bought way too many snacks for a trip that was undoubtedly going to provide them with some more snacks? 

_ 

There was no rejection Metzli’s part. In fact, when Anita let go and went on her search, they went on their own. A single round of mezcal wasn’t going to be enough for them and their dead body. They needed far more than most to feel any of alcohol’s influence, and so they found themself at the same bar Anita found. Only, they were across the way where she couldn’t see them. 

“Five tequilas in those little glasses.” They tapped the bar, “Please.” In a matter of seconds, they were placed in front of them, and they drank them in rapid succession. “And four more, please.” The bartender gave Metzli a look, and they stiffened. “They are for my friends.” A nod. “Here.” With four bills on the table, the bartender shrugged and gave Metzli what they requested on a platter. “Keep change. Goodbye.” They looked more than happy at the money, and without saying another word, the vampire rejoined their friends. 

“These are for me.” The platter was placed on the table with a light clack, and they realized three shots between two people was uneven. With a grumble, they sacrificed one of theirs so Anita and Xóchitl could each have two. “Better.” Metzli smiled awkwardly and downed their drinks. “And more better.” There was hardly a burn on the last swallow, but it was enough to make them shift in their seat. 

“Metzli Bernal, to the front desk.” 

Metzli stiffened and lit up, realizing they were about to board first after the arrangements Anita made for their peculiar needs. “I get to sit at the window.” They chuckled, disappearing with their things. 

_ 

Anita and Metzli both seemed immediately agreeable to the suggestion of alcohol, which, win. Not that Xóchitl had had any sort of real doubt about whether or not they’d agree, but it was still good. Maybe a drink (or a few) would get her brain back to actually working, rather than whatever nonsense was going on now. Lack of general eloquence, lack of understanding about just what on earth was going on. But she liked doing things without thinking about consequences, and doing things with friends was even more fun. It brought her back to college, and grad school, even. Not always in the best of ways (but that wasn’t the point right now, was it?), but now it could be in the best of ways. 

Or in the goodest of ways. Which wasn’t a word, but again, not the point.

While Anita and Metzli went off on their ways, Xóchitl took a swig of a cap of alcohol she’d somehow managed to get through TSA. Not that things like that were hard, not for her, though she figured some of that had to do with projecting an air of confidence. That much she was quite expert at. It wasn’t self-centered if it was true, right?

Soon enough, both of her friends returned, and both with a few drinks. “I’m buying us a round or three of something when we get there.” She grabbed one of the drinks and the bag of chips from Anita, offering the both of them a small shrug. Metzli was called to the front desk, and Xóchitl felt her stomach clench for a moment, wondering if they were going to get in some sort of trouble (though she was ready to tell off anybody who tried to fuck with Metzli), but it turned out that they’d gotten a window seat. “You’ll love that. You can see how the world looks from way up high.” She offered them a kind smile. “Also you can cozy against the side of the plane, which makes relaxing easier. At least that’s my personal feeling on it.”

_ 

Anita was always quite amused when Metzli managed to surprise her. And surprised she was to see them coming back with a small tray full of tequila shots at the same time that she was returning from her own supply run. It was like they had read her mind. “Here’s to Siobhan, for bringing us all together for this strange adventure.” Anita saluted in Spanish before taking her first shot of tequila. It wasn’t Casa Dragones, but it wasn’t half bad. “And here is to all of the great Irish liquor I’m sure we will discover.” She said as she raised up the second shot, finishing it off just as the attendants called for Metzli. 

If they were being called off to board that meant that the first class call wasn’t far behind. Sure enough, shortly after finishing up the rest of the drinks and reorganizing her bag a bit, the announcement rang out “We now welcome our passengers traveling in first class to board.” Anita grinned over at Xóchitl, “Vamos, mamacita.” 

First class on a transcontinental flight was truly a luxurious experience. Separated from the main cabin by a hallway not just a flimsy little shower curtain. Not that it was the status that Anita really cared about, though. Sure, that was nice, but it was the comforts and small luxuries that made the expense worthwhile. “Miss me?” She teased once they ruined with Metzli in the cabin. After stowing her bags, she slid into the aisle seat and let out a soft sigh of contentment before reaching over and pointing at the screen in front of Metzli’s seat. “This can show you an overview of our flight path, can play music or movies, or you can just turn it off.” Then she turned across the aisle where Xó’s seat was. “This whole thing was so last minute I forgot to even ask, how do you and Siobhan know each other?” 

It didn’t take long for the rest of the first class passengers to fill in and the attendant came around to offer everyone a complimentary glass of champagne, which Anita finished rather quickly. After all, she was on vacation. 

_ 

Being the first person on a flight was interesting, especially when you had only seen pictures of what the inside of a plane looked like. It was only slightly overwhelming, and Metzli was surprised to find that even at their height, their area was spacious. “Oh…” They sat down and looked through the tiny window, anxious to see how the wings would fly in the sky. There was so much to touch and see. Maybe a bit too much for their liking. But Metzli thought it better to wait until Anita arrived, which felt like forever. Though, that was likely the anxiety altering their perception.

“Not really.” They replied, legs bouncing anxiously. “Will they make me sit all the way back? I…I do not like how it feels.” Metzli’s posture was stiffer than usual as they strained to avoid the seat. They could feel themself blinking more than necessary as they battled with how the lights seemed to grow brighter and the amount of people shuffling in produced more noise. With a swallow, the ringing in their ears reached a head, and they took a breath to just barely catch what Anita was saying about the small screen in front of them. 

“Okay.” They nodded, swallowing once more as the flight attendant’s appearance startled them into focus. “Thank you.” Tentatively, Metzli took the plastic flute and held it firmly for a moment to gather their bearings before downing the champagne. Oh. It was the pointy liquid they didn’t like very much. They tried not to frown, to hide their discomfort and their cough, but with their leg advertising how they truly felt, it was almost impossible to get a word to not shake from their mouth. “I told you h-how we meet already. We-we had sex.”

_ 

She couldn’t help but throw a wink at Anita. It was all in good fun, and it was how the two of them worked after all, wasn’t it? She wanted to check on Metzli, anyhow, to make sure they’d done alright boarding and that nobody else who’d gotten on the plane already was giving them trouble. Which, thankfully, nobody seemed to be. Not that she’d expected anybody to be giving them a hard time, but it was another box ticked in the ‘things are going smoothly’ column. A column that Xóchitl realized she was likely relying on way too much. That didn’t mean she was going to stop. She relied on tequila too much sometimes, but she certainly hadn’t given that up (nor did she intend to).

“You can sit however you wish. The only rules planes have is about wearing your seatbelt, but everything else? You can take at your own pace.” She hoped that was comforting. She didn’t know if it was. Xóchitl didn’t consider herself a comforting person, but she also knew that there were quite a few people (maybe a handful, maybe less, maybe more) who might’ve disagreed with her on that.

Anita was now asking her how she and Siobhan knew each other, and Metzli had jumped in with an answer and so Xóchitl figured why not? “I also slept with her. Well, technically my neighbor tried to get us to hang out so she’d annoy me, but that didn’t happen. You and her work together, right?”

_ 

“I wasn’t asking you,” Anita clarified with only a slight twinge of annoyance, refusing to let her face show how that was amplified by Xóchitl’s response. Apparently Anita was the only one whom Sibohan thought she was too good to sleep with. Maybe this trip would change that. “Yes, we’re both professors. We also committed arson together once.” The comment slipped out, more of a jab to try and make herself feel a bit better since she doubted either of them had burned down a nightclub with Siobhan before. But then she remembered that Xóchitl was a human and that humans frowned on arson. “Kidding,” she added in with a bright grin and a laugh. 

Once all of the passengers were boarded, the attendants began their safety demonstrations. The bright lights, the loud crackling overhead announcements, and the annoying dinging bells that preceded them, it was all very apparent that it was overwhelming for Metzli. Sometimes Anita didn’t know where the line was between being helpful and being overbearing and never wanted to inadvertently make things worse. 

Anita reached down into the bag that was tucked underneath the seat in front of her and pulled out a small pouch that had a black-out eye mask, ear plugs, and some suspicious looking clearly homemade red “candies.” Whatever Metzli wanted to do with the materials was up to them. Not long after the safety demonstration ended, the plane started to taxi away from the gate and down the runway. The stiff air was mixed with sweat and people trying to mask that sweat with too much perfume. Anita adjusted herself more comfortably into the seat as the captain announced that they were about to begin their take-off. 

Within an instant the noise in the cabin nearly doubled as the jet engines prepared themselves to carry the aircraft up into the sky. Anita thought about offering her hand for Metzli to hold onto but immediately thought better of it, intentionally or not they could break every tiny bone with just one squeeze. The wheels began to turn and the plane took off down the runway, the rumble shaking and jostling everyone on board slightly. After a few moments of that, the plane lifted off the ground and there was that strange pressurized sensation that was only felt when one was in an active fight against the laws of gravity. She looked over at Metzli, knowing there wasn’t anything more than what she had already done to help them through these moments of discomfort. 

_ 

The plane rumbled and whirred, sending Metzli’s reflexes into attack mode. Even Anita’s attempts at being a good friend went missed as the sounds made their body tense. Muscle to muscle, from the shoulders and to their feet, everything flexed. With a swallow, a pitiful sound escaped Metzli’s throat and an even louder sound scraped on their right. 

Trembling, they rose their fist to find that the armrest had been twisted and bent away from its place. “Oh…oh no.” The plane jumped forward, jostling the armrest from Metzli’s grasp and sending it to the floor. They looked to Anita and then to the floor, and back to her again. Well, that was a problem for later, they thought, feeling the metal carriage ascending into the sky.

_ 

“Well, so long as you were both safe,” Xóchitl shrugged. Not that she especially approved of arson, but she also wasn’t about to fight Anita about it. It had already been done, and the cops sucked and so who exactly was she even going to report it to?

Besides, Metzli seemed to be more in trouble and the armrest of their chair disconnected from the rest of the chair, all of a sudden, and that was both confusing and not something Xóchitl could bring herself to focus on too much right then and there. “We’re here for you, okay?” She whispered across the aisle to Metzli, giving a nod to Anita. “We’ll be there before you know it.”

[therk900]

🌼September TC Challenge (Day 1-30)🌼

1 - Are you generally nervous around your tc, or are you more relaxed and comfortable around them? I find I’m more relaxed around them. I am a nervous wreck sometimes but those moments are rare!

2 - Is your tc an introvert or an extrovert? How about you? They are both extroverts while I’m an introvert 

3 - Does your tc use emojis or emoticons when communicating with you? If so, what have they used? if not, what do you think they’d use? S used emojis when he sent personal emails to me! Especially the “😊” emoji. B doesn’t really send emojis. If he did, it would most likely be the thumbs up one or the “😀” emoji

4 - What’s the biggest or most important thing your tc has taught you, ether in terms of life lessons or the subject matter of their class? B: Build my way up so I can do public speaking S: Don’t let shit get to my head!!

5 - Does your tc have a classroom / office, or are they “floating” (using a cart or something and moving from place to place)? What does their teaching space look like? B has an office and it's quite neat, with a couple books here and there. S has 2 offices since he teaches 2 subjects. I have seen one but I’m guessing the other one is neat since he is a neat person in general!

6 - What was your favourite assignment in your tc’s class and why? Are they a harsh grader? For B, I have 2 favourite projects! For one, we got make a homemade magazine about a topic. I got 80% on it! And for the 2nd one, we got to make a creative story which had to follow a simulator timeline of a movie we had watched as a class. I got a 70% on it! With S, we got to do a role play type thing! I got a 73% on it which was good

7 - Do you and your tc have any inside jokes? are they shared by other people (classmates, other teachers, etc) or is it just between you two? Not really

8 - If your tc was an animal, what animal would they be? I feel like S would be a deer and B would be a friendly bear

9 - How do you feel about being in the tcc? Are you afraid of getting caught, etc? Sometimes I am afraid of getting caught since a couple of friends uses Tumblr, so I try and be careful about what I post. But I like being in the tcc.

10 - How long have you been having teacher crushes? How many tc’s have you had in total, and how long have you been in the tcc? I've been liking teachers for 1 and a half years now. I’ve had 4 tc’s in total which is something. I’ve been in the tcc for nearly 2 years now

11 - Is your tc’s room close to the front of your school / campus, or is it more towards the back? Their offices are both at the front of the school which is convenient!

12- Are you shorter or taller than your tc? Both taller than me! S completely towers over me

13 -  does your tc have any pets at home? how many and what animals? B used to have a ginger cat

14 - Does your tc have a blackboard or a whiteboard in their room? What color chalk/marker do they use the most? They both use whiteboards and they mainly used black and red markers

15 - Besides your blog, do you vent about your feelings towards your tc in any other way? I have a mini diary that I use on my computer for things that I don’t put on here. I go more into depth about things there and read back on them every once in a while

16 - Are there any students you’re jealous of in terms of their relationship to your tc? Not really

17 - Imagine that you and your tc were born in the same year. How many days apart would your birthdays be? I would have no clue. Maybe a couple months apart

18 - Have you ever gotten in trouble with your tc? If so, what happened? Never have! Hopefully never will!

19 - Is your tc’s hair curly or straight, and is it short, medium, or long? Both of their hair is straight and short. B’s hair is slightly longer and a tiny bit wavier than S’ hair. 

20- what web browser does your tc use? what kind of phone/computer do they have? I think they both use a HP laptop, so the Microsoft windows web browser. As for phones, they both have apple phones, so safari or google

21- Are there any calendar dates that are special to you because of your tc? Not yet! 

22 - Do any celebrities or fictional characters look like or remind you of your tc? Kind of. There was this one guy on instagram who reminded me of S a tiny bit. There is someone that looks like B as well, but I don’t know who it was. Hopefully I remember soon!

23 - Is your tc’s room/office number even or odd? I have no idea

24 - What do you think sets your tc apart from other teachers at your school? Their personality and looks

25 - Do you like the teachers who are “neighbors” with your tc (that is teachers who have rooms next to your tc)? Yes but no. There are teachers in the same room as each other.

26 - Have you ever suspected someone you know irl of having a teacher crush (either on your tc or on a different teacher)? If so, have you ever confronted them about it? Not really

27 - Do you pass by your tc’s room or office on your way to class frequently? Do you see them around campus a lot? I see them around a lot, but I don’t pass their office tons. I pass B's office sometimes when i have classes in the same building as his office.

28 - Is teaching your tc’s first job, or did they have another job before being a teacher? Have they ever taught at another school before? I know that S has had other jobs before teaching at my school. I think it’s the same for B, but i'm not sure

29 - What things keep you happy and occupied over break when you miss your tc? If you’ve graduated or will no longer be seeing your tc in school, how are you handling the situation? I keep myself busy over the breaks by drawing or doing things on my laptop

30 - What is the sweetest thing they told you or did for you? B liking my drawings and S giving me life advise