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[Divider credit goes to @/throughpatchesofviolet.]
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"WHAT?!?!" That was Doctor Crowler's first response to Madilyn's confession, his hands on his desk. "How long did you know about this?!?!"
The young woman adjusted her glasses with a nervous expression. She was starting to wonder if telling Crowler the identity of the Duel Giant that had been harassing his Blue Dorm students was a good idea after all. "Um... well... Since--Since yesterday..."
"Those two shouldn't even be in Ra Yellow with an attitude like that!!" Crowler furiously grabbed a form from his desk drawer, sitting down with a pen. "This calls for disciplinary action--for both dueling with the illegal card ante and harassment of other students! I'll see those two expelled if I have to!!"
... Madilyn's heart dropped. She spied on the two Yellow Dorm students last night--she knew why they had done this in the first place. Despite the anxiety she felt over losing the chance for a requited crush from Crowler, she hastily interjected:
"Cro--I mean, Doctor, wait... I've seen these two bullied by your own Obelisks...! This Duel Giant alias is no doubt retaliation to that!"
The blonde man paused for a moment to hear the maid out on her brief yet desperate plea, but the unwavering stern expression was a sign he wasn't changing his mind. "Hmph... That's no excuse to be running around practicing illegal dueling," he replied before looking back at the form he was filling out.
To his surprise, Madilyn slammed her small hands on his desk, her face full of unspoken trauma as she impulsively exclaimed: "NOTHING IS AN EXCUSE FOR BULLYING EITHER!!"
... Crowler's hand stopped as he stared at the young maid with wide eyes and parted lips. There was silence between them for a moment before Madilyn realized she had a trauma response and shrunk away from her crush.
"I'm... I'm sorry," she whimpered; tears welling up in her eyes as she avoided looking at the professor. "I'm sorry I yelled, I'm sorry--I just..."
Setting the pen down, Crowler stood up. He was silent as he walked around the desk to meet the girl face to face; and Madilyn felt her anxiety building as she realized she didn't know what he was thinking...
... But when a hand gently brushed her hair back and violet lips planted a kiss on her forehead, the young woman stared up at him with teary-eyed awe.
"Thank you for reporting to me, my dear. Your assistance won't go unnoticed." Crowler's tone seemed... softer. "As lead professor at the academy, I must be responsible for my students when they act out of line, and I'll consider your witness report while I handle the situation."
... Madilyn felt his hand run through her hair once before he pulled away to finalize the misconduct form. What was that unexpected display of affection?... A sign of requited love?
I've been in a bit of a writing slump lately, so a big thank you to my friend, Asra, for the recommendation to write something about Robby and his family stuff! Just a little bit of comfort for him taking place early-ish on in his and Raven's relationship
Rating: Teen
Words: 1119 words
Divider by saradika
Content warning: referenced parental abandonment
“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever told me about your family,” Raven says one night as she steps out of the bathroom at Robby’s house.
Getting to stay over with him more often has been nice, and there’s something pleasing about the way that she’s started to keep her soap, shampoo, and conditioner in his shower to use on nights like this one. It’s nice thinking that they’ve become a part of each other’s daily lives in the months since they’ve been dating, and it’s nice to think that Raven’s gotten glimpses into Robby’s world. Even if there’s still one glaring absence in the things he’s been willing to share with her.
He looks up from where he’s sitting on the bed, glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he plays a game on his phone. The hum of CNN fills the room from the TV’s light that emits a blue glow through the room, the main source of light aside from the lamps on either side of the bed.
“There’s not much to tell,” Robby says, almost looking surprised to be asked. Raven guesses she probably should have asked him about this before, but every time she’s tried, he’s always found a way to dance around giving an answer— just like he’s clearly trying to do right now.
“Maybe. But there’s not much for me to tell about my family either, and you already know about them,” Raven says as she climbs into bed next to him, pulling aside the blankets.
“I’d say there’s a lot to tell with your grandparents,” he replies.
“Well, okay, sure when it comes to them, but you’re redirecting.” She rests her chin on his shoulder, one arm wrapping around him, and glances down at his phone screen to see he’s playing Candy Crush before meeting his eyes. “Come on, baby. I want to know more about them. Especially if we’re gonna get married some day, I should probably at least know who we might end up inviting to it.”
“No one. I don’t have anyone who’d come,” Robby replies shortly.
He’s tense. Relaxing a bit with how she’s pulling him close, wrapping one arm around him, but still tenser than usual in her arms. Raven knows she shouldn’t push too hard, but she also knows that Robby’s not usually keen to share things without at least a little of a push in the right direction. Vulnerability scares him, and that’s something that she can understand too.
“Right. You mentioned your grandma before, right? So I guess she, ah, might have passed already by now,” Raven says. Every now and then, she’s reminded of how much older Robby is than her. She’s had her own losses on her dad’s side of the family, but her maternal grandparents are still alive, even if she can't say she cares much for them. It’s hard to think though that his might still be living when he’s just an inch away from his mid-fifties.
“About a decade ago. My grandpa a little before that,” Robby says, putting his phone down so he can scratch at his beard.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nobody needs to be sorry. It happened, it was a decade ago, it’s fine,” he replies, his voice sharp like it gets whenever he starts talking about something that feels a little too vulnerable for his taste.
“Still. I’m sure they were important to you, so that must’ve sucked,” Raven says.
He sighs, resting his head against hers. “It was.”
“Were, uh, were your parents around for that?” Raven prompts.
Robby’s silent for a second. Raven must have struck a nerve with that. But at least he doesn’t seem like he’s completely closing up like he might have in the past. He reaches over to the nightstand, turning off the TV. Beneath the blankets, he places his free hand on Raven’s thigh, lightly rubbing circles into her skin exposed below the end of her shorts.
Eventually he says, “No. They weren’t around for anything. My mom left me with my grandparents when I was eight, and that was it.”
“Oh,” is all Raven can think to respond with at first.
“Don’t pity me. I don’t need any of that bullshit,” Robby says.
His head lifts from hers, and he shakes his head, blinking hard, as if he’s trying to shake the thought of his mother from his mind. Raven takes his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze in hopes that it’ll ease his mind even a little.
“It’s not important, though. I’m fine,” he insists.
“Sure,” Raven says.
“You know, honey, when you say ‘sure’ like that, it doesn’t make it sound like you actually believe me,” Robby says.
“I don’t,” she admits. “I mean, getting abandoned by your mom is kinda a big deal for a kid.”
“Uh-huh, but I’m a grown man now, so I’m not bothered by it anymore,” he replies tersely.
Raven doesn’t bother arguing with that, even though she knows that Robby’s just saying that to himself to try to feel better. If anything, finding out about this has put things in perspective for her— being left behind by his mom must have stuck with him, must be part of why he always seems like he’s waiting for anyone he cares about to leave him. She’s noticed he still seems like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop with her, for her to decide that she’s done with him and move on to someone else. She never would, not when she feels for Robby in a way she never has for anyone before, but it’s been hard to make sure that he knows that.
So rather than try to convince Robby through words alone that he’s safe with her, and that she’s never going to leave him, she guides him down so his head rests on her chest. She strokes his hair with one hand, then gives him a kiss on the top of his head. She can feel him starting to relax, his arms wrapping around her middle and legs tangling with hers.
“I love you,” Raven says.
“I know,” Robby replies.
“And I really want to be your family,” she says.
Robby’s quiet for a moment, for so long that Raven stops expecting him to respond and wonders if he’s starting to drift off to sleep. But eventually he sighs, whispering against her, “I want that too.”
(this takes place after. vampire mistress Camula's defeat in the sacred beasts arc of season 1) (in case you want to watch the episodes, season 1 is on youtube. "field of screams" part 1, part 2, and part 3)
>>>
Doctor Crowler and Madilyn had both been shy about their feelings towards each other for so long, and yet... after the situation with that vampire shadow rider Camula, both of them felt more compelled to say something than before--in case one of them were turned into a doll again like Crowler was... or worse.
They were walking side by side in the academy halls, both of them silent for a minute as they recalled the brief moment in time after Crowler lost the duel to Camula... The first to break the silence was Madilyn with a soft sigh as she looked up at Crowler:
"I'm just glad you're back to normal."
There was a hint of a blush on the good doctor's face as he turned to her for a moment before shyly glancing away with a forced smile. "Ah, well... I'm relieved I'm back to normal as well," he chuckled. "Being an immobile old ragdoll was very much uncomfortable. Of course, it's too bad that I lost my key in that duel, but regardless... we still have a few more duelists those shadow riders have to get through for the rest of the keys--and only the best the school has to offer, at that!"
The young woman's eyes shifted before she spoke again in a soft voice: "You were really brave."
... Crowler slowed to a stop as the blush on his face got brighter. "Oh... Sweetheart, I was just... trying to protect my students." There was a brief pause before he impulsively added to his statement: "And you..."
When he glanced back at Madilyn, she looked touched... Her hands were over her heart and she was staring at him with large innocent eyes behind the frames of her glasses...
"... I--" Madilyn timidly averted her eyes after a moment of staring... "I'm not one of your students, you know, I'm just housekeeping--"
"Stop that." Crowler grabbed one of the girl's hands as he interjected. "Madilyn, just... recognize how much you do around here for once. And how much it means to..." He struggled for a moment to look at her directly, but with an audible exhale and determined expression he finally locked eyes with her... "to ME especially!"
... The girl could feel her heart in her chest as it finally registered why Crowler was speaking so highly of her like this.
She had been in love with him all this time without recognizing until now that he loved her just as much.
⊹ 𓈒 ۫ ﹙ cant sleep ? ﹚ ㅤㅤ✩ ࿐༢
summary : trucy refuses to go to bed !!! (spoiler alert : she goes to bed very quickly)
warnings / tags : found family things . phoenix being super sweet with trucy .. and stuff .. ♡♡ also , this features aa4 / disbarred phoenix !
wc : 1k
notes : another unedited and unreviewed little writing thing !! i wrote this mainly because i was feeling super paternal towards trucy , and this is the first thing that came to mind . thank you for reading if you do , and i hope you enjoy ! yay ! ♡♡
also tagging @selfship-writer-support .. if that's okay .. (៸៸⩊៸៸)
and dividers are by @dividers-are-us !
"Trucy.. You're making this too difficult…" Phoenix muttered in an irritated tone. His tanned hand slid down his face, his elecrtic blue beanie slipping off with the force of his hand. It plopped onto the floor in front of him, and he looked down at it almost wistfully. The perpetual single strand of hair that always poked out and laid across his forehead bobbed up and down cartoonishly.
"But I wanna sleep in here with Eiden!" Trucy whined, her voice high and thready, almost as if she was going to cry if she couldn't sleep in the same room as the two of them. Eiden pursed their lips softly, eyes wide as they seemed to look anywhere but Phoenix and Trucy. The room couldn't be that interesting.
Since Eiden surely wasn't going to do anything, Phoenix decided he'd have to resolve this tantrum on his own. He bent down to pick up his beanie and threw it onto the bedside table, before padding over to Trucy, crouching down in front of her. "Bunny.. you're a big girl now, you know that." Phoenix said softly, reaching for her wrist, his fingers trailing to her hand to feel how soft it was. He let it rest in his own larger, more calloused hand, as he looked at her, raising his eyebrows slightly.
"I know, but… why can't big girls sleep in Daddy's room?" Trucy whined, sniffling erratically. He knew tears and sobs were going to come if she didn't get the answer she wanted. And quickly.
"Because, this big girl has her own room. In her room, is her favorite nightlight, her favorite stuffed animals, her glow-in-the-dark stars, and Mr. Hat." Phoenix reasoned, massaging her fingers gently as he spoke to her so kindly. Eiden was still appalled by it, the way that Phoenix got into 'Dad Mode' and could heal almost all of Trucy's ailments. Even if the ailment was not wanting to sleep in her own room.
"But… but.. we can move all that stuff in here!" Trucy considered, her expression turning solemn and thoughtful like she was truly debating on practically moving her entire room into Phoenix's room.
"Ah.." Phoenix parted his lips, making it seem like he was debating on it as well. "No." He closed his mouth and shook his head. "Trucy. You know I love you always, but Daddy would like to keep his room, his room. And Bunny will keep her room, her room." He then leaned forward a bit, making sure she was okay with him getting closer. When she didn't whine or back away, he took her into his arm, his forearm settling behind her thighs.
"But…" She mumbled, her cheek pressing against Phoenix's chest, her eyebrows knitting together.
"No buts, Bunny. I can tell you're getting sleepy already." Phoenix said softly, dipping his head down to press a kiss to her forehead. He then pulled away ever so slightly and brushed her bangs out of her face in order to press a kiss to her forehead again— this time without her hair in the way. He swayed a little bit with her in his arms, and he looked over her head directly at Eiden, eyes narrowing and head jerking towards the hallway in order for them to be in her room for bedtime. They were the one she was crying about anyways.
Eiden scurried away, feet quiet on the floorboards as they made their way to Trucy's room, turning on her nightlight, propping up Mr. Hat, and making sure Tricksie— her favorite plush rabbit— was in bed, right by her pillow.
"Daddy, your face itches…" Trucy said quietly, her lips barely moving as she spoke. She was on her way to Dreamland already.
"Is that your way of telling me I need to shave?" Phoenix joked, his chest jostling Trucy's head slightly as he laughed. He continued to sway her for a little while longer, before starting to walk down the hallway towards Trucy's bedroom.
"Mm.." Trucy responded, or lack thereof.
Once they got into the room and to the bed, Phoenix tightened his grip on Trucy as he leaned down and pulled back her covers, and Eiden hovered around like a curious ghost.
He then put her down in the bed, and she immediately splayed out. Phoenix pressed a kiss to her cheek— even though his face was 'itchy'— and he pulled away to put his hands on his hips. He seemed quite proud of himself for getting her down in less than 30 minutes, especially since she was in temper tantrum territory just a few minutes ago.
Eiden then padded up to the bed, kneeling down to press a kiss to the cheek opposite of which Phoenix just did. "Goodnight Trucy.." They whispered softly, their hand coming up to run through her hair. It was getting so long, and it felt as light and as soft as a feather. They couldn't help but think how beautiful she was, and how lucky they were to be considered her parent. Phoenix rounded the bed to their side, and he watched them two.
"You're making those eyes at her again." Phoenix whispered, putting his hand on Eiden's shoulder and squeezing it gently.
"What eyes?!" Eiden whispered back indignantly, trying not to be too loud and disrupt all of Phoenix's hard work of getting her to sleep.
"The 'Awwwww, she's so cute when she's sleeping and only when she's sleeping' eyes."
"I think you're projecting."
"Am not!"
It was a whisper fight between them, until Trucy made a soft snorting noise and she turned around, her hand reaching out towards Tricksie.
Eiden got up from the floor and exchanged a look at Phoenix, and then a soft smile. Their eyes crinkled at the corners, cheeks raising in genuine amusement. Phoenix rolled his eyes but wrapped his arm around Eiden's waist anyways, moving towards the door with them in tow.
"Now let's get you to bed, Mr. Headstrong."
"That is not my last name."
"It is tonight." Phoenix said with that smug smile on his face, that made Eiden want to push him and run towards the room themselves.
"It wouldn't even be my last name in a hypothetical sense!"
"Yeah, because hypothetically your last name would be Wright." He finally murmured, his head leaning down to press a kiss to their cheek, their skin yielding beneath his lips. They looked away, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, and he knew he had won.
question! is it okay to submit our own prompt list to the blog? :) i just made one and was hoping to share it around! /np
Yes! Absolutely--we'd love it if you (and others) submitted prompt lists! We've set up the submissions page, so feel free to send them our way--we'd love to help share them with other writers in the community.
A rare fic from me from the POV of one of my f/os! This was written for an event I've been running on here and twitter, with the prompts being hummingbird and Hero of the Veil/guard. So this is about Bellara getting a bit of post-canon comfort from Minala as she grieves her brother's death. You can also read this on ao3!
Rating: Teen
Words: 1515 words
Divider by saradika
Content warning: discussions of death and grief
Bellara sighs as she settles at the balcony of the Lighthouse, resting her arms against the edge of it as she looks up at the simulated night. She’s still amazed by how well the Fade manages to imitate the real night sky, even if the constellations here are far different from the ones she grew up following in Thedas. There’s a peacefulness that comes with the almost familiarity of it, one that makes her glad that she and the rest of the Veilguard are still able to come and go here. It lets her get some space away from everything else and attempt to calm down where few people could find her.
Bellara’s mind has never been good at slowing down. Her brain always seems to jump from thought to thought, never settling on one idea for long before another strikes her like lightning. Sometimes it’s helpful— when she’s tinkering with some magical contraption or trying to get a better understanding of an artifact it helps to be able to jump from subject to subject, to find new ways to think about things.
But it’s less convenient when it makes it hard for her to focus on anything for long. When she forgets to do certain things for her work, accidentally leaves something she was cooking on the stove too long, forgets when she was supposed to meet with her friends. Or in the moments of quiet, when her mind keeps wandering from disaster to disaster, questioning every part of herself. It’s hard not to get caught up in her head, spiraling as her brain conjures up countless things to worry about.
Right now, her mind keeps going back to Cyrian. She knows she shouldn’t blame herself— that’s what everyone tells her, anyway. Bellara still has some trouble believing that, even if she knows now that Cyrian didn’t die because of her, that instead he made the choice to join Anaris.
Yet she can’t help but think about what could have been. If she had managed to keep him away from that artifact all those years ago, maybe then he never would have fallen in with Anaris. Maybe then he wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the battle with the Forgotten One, maybe then she wouldn’t have had to say goodbye to him for good. Or maybe she somehow could have found him before Anaris did, and maybe then he would have chosen her rather than her and everyone else with the Veil Jumpers. She wishes she could have done something, that things could have been different. That she could go back to the Veil Jumper’s camp and pretend that everything was normal, that she would find him waiting for her with a grin on his face, always more relaxed than she was.
Bellara already had to grieve Cyrian once. But a naive part of her had hoped that there was still a chance they could have saved him, that she could have her brother back. Now though, that hope has been completely taken from her, and it’s hard to think of what the future might hold for her with her brother completely gone now. She still has the Archive Spirit that she can keep learning from at least, and this can help her and other elves to learn more about ancient elven culture and traditions. But she wishes she could get to share all of this with Cyrian.
“Bells.” A hand on her back and a gentle voice draws Bellara from her thoughts.
She jumps at first, but calms as she looks up and meets Minala’s eyes. They’re warm but with a hint of worry— Bellara wonders how long she’s been standing here, how long Minala’s been watching before she decided to approach. She does have a habit on sneaking up on her without her noticing though, so maybe she just got here.
“Oh, hi,” Bellara says. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“About?” Minala prompts, coming to stand to Bellara’s left, leaning against the balcony’s edge with her.
“Cyrian,” she admits. When she sees Minala frown out of the corner of her eyes, she says, “I know, I know. It’s not my fault. But I just… it’s hard to think about what the future will be like without him. For real now.”
“I bet,” Minala says. “Loss is hard.”
“Yeah. Really hard.”
Bellara sighs, shuffling closer to Minala so she can rest her head on her shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, Minala wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her close. Faintly Bellara can smell that rose oil that Minala puts in her hair. She focuses on that, letting her eyes drift closed and taking in the reminders that she’s not alone, that her girlfriend is right here with her. As she focuses on Minala’s company, her mind finally starts to slow down, settling into a rare moment of peace that she only ever seems to truly get when she’s with her.
Cyrian always used to call her Vora’shivan, hummingbird in Elvhen, because of the way her mind was always running and how she could never completely sit still. But real hummingbirds spend a lot of their time resting on some perch or another, preening their feathers or trying to find something to eat. If Bellara is a hummingbird, Minala must be her place to rest, to let herself slow down from her usual flurry of thoughts and energy, to be at peace.
“I know I didn’t really get to know him that well, but I think he would be proud of you for everything. And I think he would want you to live a full, happy life,” Minala says.
“He would,” Bellara agrees, even if she still can’t imagine how she could do that without him.
Though she does have Minala. Despite everything, she’s found love, the kind that she thought could only exist in stories. Minala’s seen all of her quirks and still chooses to be with her, even though Bellara was terrified that would drive her away. She’s like Cyrian in that way— willing to care for her through it all. And Bellara supposes that the rest of the Veilguard is like that too. Her brother might be gone, but she at least doesn’t have to figure out what the future holds for her alone.
“I wish you could have met him before everything. I think you two would’ve gotten along,” Bellara says.
“I think so too,” Minala says.
Minala rubs soft circles into Bellara’s side with her thumb, the gentle motion helping Bellara to relax into her. She still can’t help but miss Cyrian— she thinks she always will, even if that ache slowly starts to ease with time.
“Thanks,” Bellara says. “For being here for me, I mean.”
“Of course,” Minala replies. Gently she takes Bellara’s hand in hers, lifting it up so she can brush a kiss against her knuckles. “We can talk about it more if you want.”
“Maybe later. Right now I think I just want to… I don’t know, get outside of my head, I guess.”
“So you could use a distraction?”
“That would be nice, yeah.”
“Alright then. So, if we’re planning on staying around the Lighthouse, I thought that we might want to start naming the constellations here,” Minala says.
“Oooh, that’s a really good idea,” Bellara replies, already starting to feel more at ease than she had before. “What should we name them after? Different legends? Plants? Animals? Things that we just made up?”
“Maybe a little of all of those,” Minala suggests. “But I think I already know what that one’s going to be.”
As she speaks, she points up towards a collection of stars to the east, Bellara’s eyes following the gesture. She frowns as she stares at them, trying to figure out what the shape is that Minala’s seeing.
“What’s that one?” she asks.
“I was thinking we’ll call it Vora’shivan,” Minala says. “Look, you can see the wings and the sharp beak up near the top.”
“Awww.” Bellara can’t help but blush, looking from the stars back to Minala again. “Are you naming a constellation after me?”
“You deserve it. You’re as bright and incredible as any star.”
Bellara giggles, turning to give Minala a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re so sweet. But you know this means I have to name one after you now, right? Because we have to be up there together.”
“Then take your pick,” Minala replies.
Bellara gives her one last quick grin before directing her attention up to the stars. She pays more attention to the details of them now, trying to figure out what patterns might be shining overhead that could match Minala. She has to find something perfect for her— and now she has something to focus on other than her grief, her mind turning to lighter thoughts. It’s easier to do that with Minala around. So as Bellara looks at the stars, she hopes to find the perfect one to immortalize the woman she loves right next to her in the night sky of the Lighthouse.
(yippee, i finally have the time & energy to write a little something with my new f/o ;w; i didnt realize that the only thing i needed to kickstart my writing again was the right fictional crush to come along... oh-- while im in the notes, i'll drop a link for my self-insert too if you missed it-)
>>>
Madilyn recognized the voice of that angry grumbling anywhere, causing her to pause in front of the closed door and listen in. She had no idea what Doctor Crowler was going off to himself about in there, but she hated hearing him so stressed... The young woman soon found herself quietly opening the door a crack to look into his office.
There was Crowler--her non-conforming crush--sitting at his desk with gritted teeth framed in purple lipstick as he furiously scribbled grades on each piece of homework. He seemed more frustrated lately since this year's new batch of students arrived at Duel Academy... specifically over one particular student. Madilyn found herself quietly stepping into the room, the hinges of the door being the only subtle giveaway to her arrival.
Upon realizing someone entered his office, Crowler looked up from his papers; a soft gasp escaping him as he blushed in embarrassment. "Madilyn!!" He slammed the pen down on the desk, looking flustered over the possibility of being overheard. "Wha--What are you doing here?? I thought you already cleaned my office for today!"
The maid was a little shy, but she closed the door behind her as she remained calm. "Um... I'm sorry, Doctor Crowler... I just..." It was hard for her to look at the man directly without blushing... "I couldn't help noticing you sounded stressed when I passed by..."
"... Well..." The good doctor was trying desperately to play it cool, though the furrowed brow and awkward smile was a sign of struggle. He cleared his throat for a moment. "It's... absolutely nothing for you to be concerned about, my dear; just some of Red Dorm's Slifer Slackers giving me a bit of trouble~"
His dismissive behavior wasn't phasing Madilyn at all. She still looked concerned for him.
"Crowler... Would you... at least let me give you something to help your stress...?"
The forced smile faded as Doctor Crowler seemed visibly stunned by the maid's offer. "Like what exactly?"
The corners of Madilyn's own lips turned up in a small shy smile. "Well... do you drink tea?"
>>>
It was approximately ten to fifteen minutes before Madilyn returned with a tea set. The teapot was full of a blend of herbal tea specifically chosen for its relaxing qualities, and as soon as Madilyn set the tray down at Doctor Crowler's desk she poured him a cup.
"I... forgot to ask you about cream or sugar," she confessed, "so I brought some for you to portion to your taste..."
The moment Crowler lifted the cup to his nose, he took a deep breath as a smile crossed his face. "Oooo, I feel a little better already~" Blowing some of the steam away, he took a delicate sip as Madilyn watched with anticipation...
"... It's perfect!!" Crowler's smile widened as a small giggle escaped him. "I didn't know you were such an expert with tea brewing!~"
The compliment earned a blush on the shy maid's cheeks. "Ah, well... I mainly steep herbal and black tea, so I wouldn't call myself an expert..."
After another sip, the professor let out a relieved sigh. "This is just what I needed for my poor nerves, sweetheart. Thank you."
... Madilyn's heart skipped a beat hearing such sincere gratitude from her crush. Though after a second of stunned silence she hurriedly gave him a response: "I--I--I can bring you more in the future if you just ask..."
"Oh, but my dear, aren't you busy with your housekeeping most of the day??"
"It's fine~... I... usually wrap up around this time in the evening anyway." The girl could feel her heart racing in her chest as she tried to play it off with a shy smile. "If it helps you... I'm willing to do it."
... What the maid didn't realize was how the good doctor's heart was also racing fast as he looked genuinely stunned to hear such a kind offer.
Word Count: 1,633 words
Fandom: Transformers - Prime continuity
Characters featured:
Sparkburst - OC/Self-insert
Starscream - Canon
Megatron - Canon
Knockout - Canon
Possible Triggers:
Brief vomit scene (One paragraph), tampering with (robot) corpses, and Starscream/Megatron playing god.
Synopsis:
Starscream gets an idea of how to cement his leadership among the Decepticons after Megatron's 'unfortunate' accident with the space bridge. Using the remains of dead Cybertronians, the shard of dark energon he 'found' in Megatron's chassis, and some scientific ingenuity, Starscream plans to create a loyal soldier. ...Which leads to interesting results.
Note:
I changed Sparkburst's backstory. I had this idea for a while and changed it since I like it more and it'll be easier to translate for continuities with less Quintesson relevance (G1, TFA, etc.). Though I'll likely still use the other backstory for specific continuities, lol. Also, I've loved Scientist x Experiment ever since I watched Igor (2008) as a kid.
@selfship-writer-support
"Understand, Starscream; in the absence of Shockwave, your scientific prowess is necessary for this… unusual task." The word 'unusual' was far, far too nice a word for what Starscream was being asked to do. His optics scanned the pieces before him, a mangled pile of parts - wholly random, but made from only the most deadly of Cybertron's dead.
"L-Lord Megatron, is this really necessary?" He asked, stumbling a bit. Starscream had never been squeamish around the dead, but the idea of desecrating war-torn corpses by stitching them together into a chimeric abomination was hard to swallow. However, as soon as Megatron's gaze met Starscream's, he swallowed as the tyrant's optics narrowed with a near-inaudible snarl from between his sharp denta.
"This task could very well be the key to our victory." Megatron hissed, and Starscream felt a lump in his throat. But Megatron didn't hit him; he simply turned and walked away. "I expect results." The terse tone implied a silent threat that made Starscream's wings droop.
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
Starscream stared at the thing as it lay on the table. There was no need to continue working on it now that Megatron was out of commission, yet it was finished all the same. Soundwave insisted on it, even doing some work himself when Starscream refused to continue with a worthless scheme. Now Starscream stared at it, finished and lifeless. A pity; if it were alive, this creature looked like it could even kill Megatron.
Starscream glanced at the dark energon in his servo and considered what Megatron told him to do; put the shard in the creature's chassis, and this new slave would be under Megatron's control. Though not anymore, considering Megatron was on the brink of death.
This was ridiculous, a waste of parts from loyal soldiers who died in battle. Starscream sighed, his wings flicked as he thought about what to do with the corpse now.
Then he had an idea that made him smirk. Perhaps it was risky, but Starscream didn't get to where he is now by avoiding risks.
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
Starscream knew it was stupid, begging for trouble to awaken this thing with the dark energon like Megatron instructed. So, Starscream set to work learning how to administer dark energon without creating an unstoppable killing machine.
Hours of work followed as Starscream examined and re-examined the shard, drawing on his scientific knowledge and centuries of experience in energon research. It took no time at all for Starscream to realize dark energon was the opposite of natural energon, down to its very molecules. When combined, energon and dark energon interacted in surprising ways, all dependent on the amount. But what was most intriguing was what happened when the mixture was exposed to electricity.
Starscream had to be very careful as he set it all up; even a single drop too much of either could ruin the entire project. "Knockout, ready the energon injectors." He instructed as he glanced at the red Decepticon, who nodded and set to work on the control panel. Starscream took a breath to steel his resolve, then set the electrical wires in their places on the creature's chassis, helm, and even on each of his servos.
"This is an awful lot of work for one soldier, Lord Starscream." Knockout said with a raised eyebrow.
"If it works, it will all be worth it." Starscream replied with a grin. "Think of it: A loyal soldier, perfectly built for war, and entirely loyal to me." Knockout doubted it would be so loyal, but he kept that to himself. "On my signal, begin injecting the body with both energon types."
"Does Soundwave know about this?"
"He will when we're finished." Starscream couldn't help a small chuckle as he said that. "For now, what matters is finishing what we've started."
Starscream's servo grabbed a nearby lever tight as he swallowed a lump in his throat. "Five… four-" He stared at the body, lifeless and limp on the table, just waiting for Starscream to awaken it. "Three… two… one!" With that, Knockout and Starscream flipped their switches in unison.
A loud scream of electricity filled the room, and the body convulsed. The corpse's legs and arms trembled and slammed against the table as electrically charged energon flooded its insides. The electricity ignited, the energon mixed, and a loud whine of steam filled the lab. Knockout took a step back with a yelp, "I-it's going to explode!"
"No, it won't!" Starscream insisted as he threw a servo to halt Knockout before he could turn it off. Energon bubbled and foamed from the body's mouth, as the optics blindly blinked rapidly. The tail swung, slammed into a nearby table, and sent it flying into a nearby wall. Then, the sound of a loud ripping gasp filled the air, and the seams between its metal plates glowed brightly with blue and purple light, and-!
A loud gurgle and spew erupted from the foaming mouth as a glob of dark and normal energon came up in a vomit, and all signs of life stopped. "No-!" Starscream rushed to the levers and pulled them again to switch it all off, then scrambled to the body's side as it went limp again. Energon dribbled from the sides of the body's mouth and optics. "No… no!" Starscream's free servo slammed against the table as his wings flared. "We almost had it!"
Knockout cleared his throat as he tried to play off his prior fear. "Calm down… we can just try again. …Can't we?"
"We only have so much dark energon, Knockout!" Starscream snapped as he spun to face the red Cybertronian, who jumped back. Starscream paused, heaving heavy breaths of rage; not only at the failure but the sting to his pride. Finally, he straightened himself and said, "I need some time alone. …Out."
"As you wish, Lord Starscream." Knockout said hesitantly, before he sped out with a snarky comment under his breath, which Starscream ignored with little more than a snarl.
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
It was all quiet until the loud whining started, electrical snaps and harsh gurgling that filled newly awakened senses. It took him a moment to realize the gurgling came from his own throat, then his optics snapped open, and a loud gasp erupted from him as he felt his whole frame fill with cold and hot. Arching lights of energy danced around him like aurora lights full of purple and blue light, and then, all at once, it was gone again as he felt a glob of something come up from his throat.
It was hard to tell how long he was unconscious, but when his optics fluttered open again, he heard a voice. He couldn't understand it, but he knew the voice was angry as it hissed quietly. He turned his optics, and there he saw him; silver metal, large wings, a slim figure with sharp claws, back turned to him as the seeker tapped away at a Cybertronian computer.
The creature stared for a moment, then slowly sat up and wobbled as it tried to keep its balance. He stood up from the table to approach, but as he took a few steps, the bot leaned aside, fell, and a loud clatter erupted through the otherwise-silent room.
Starscream jumped and spun around, "I said I wanted to be-!" Starscream stopped, optics wide as he saw it; his creation of mad science.
The creature sat up unsteadily before it tried to get up again, bow-legged and trembling like a newborn deer; its wings and tail swung wildly as it tried to stand.
"…You- you're alive?" Starscream asked, optics wide. Before he could say anything more, the creature fell again, and Starscream quickly moved to its side. "Stop, stop! You're going to hurt yourself!" He wrapped an arm around the creature's middle and pulled, though it was far too heavy for Starscream to pick up. "Stand! …I said, stand!" The silver seeker ordered, but got only a blank expression in reply.
Thankfully, the creature did so on its own, and when Starscream guided it back to the table, the creature followed. "Here, sit." The creature did so, its tail curled as it stared deeply at Starscream with blank curiosity, as if committing his appearance to memory.
"You don't appear aggressive." Starscream muttered, more to himself than the creature. That much by itself made Starscream grin, and his wings lift high. "Just as I theorized; an equal dose of regular energon introduced with the binding of electricity soothed the dark energon's aggression." As Starscream grinned, the creature's mouth curled into a smile, too. Starscream chuckled and waved his claw. "I am Starscream, leader of the Decepticons. You are the lucky first of the undead soldiers I will add to my army. Now, what is your name?"
There was a long pause as the creature continued to stare at him blankly. "Your name?" Starscream repeated, and after a few moments of more silence, huffed. "Can you even understand me?"
A slow blink was the only response. Starscream rolled his optics, deciding the innate knowledge of language must've fried from the creature's circuits during the awakening process. "Ugh, fine." He gestured to himself with both servos. "Starscream. Star-scream." He tried, and the creature tilted its head. "Come on, say it back; Starscream."
The creature hesitated, then whispered, "Star? Star… star?" The voice of the creature was inconsistent; one moment he sounded one way, and the next he sounded like a completely different bot.
"Not Star." Starscream hissed, a bit annoyed. However, he forced himself to relax. "Star-scream." He pointed to his mouth as he sounded out his own name.
That time, the point got across. The creature smiled, "Starscream…?"
"Yes! Finally, you understand." He huffed, but chuckled regardless. "Alright, let's see how long it will take to teach you to walk again."
And on the third day, this story rose from the dead or something. Not really: I've actually had this part done for a good while. I just wanted to have essentially the "season opener" finished completely before I started posting it.
Either way, welcome back! This is basically the rest of Episode 1, and then Part 3 will finish Episode 2. Why did I write it like this, you may ask? I wasn't planning on getting this far to be honest. But whatever, we're balling now.
Dimitri let out a long, weary sigh. "C'mon, let's go home. That's enough excitement for one day."
"More like one year."
Something circular down below the bridge caught Clare's eye. "What's that?"
Before she could think, her feet were heading down to a slope and sliding down.
"Clare—!" "Dude—!"
Marble and Dimitri followed suit as she bent down and picked up the foreign object.
Its base was square with a circular case on top and a black wrist strap. In its very center was a cut of green circular glass, but it was all sorts of colors: blue and red, silver and gold, green and black. It resembled a watch, but this wasn't like any watch Clare had seen before.
She looked it over in her hands, but Dimitri snatched it and gave it a once-over. "Think some kid just lost their watch dude." They then handed it back.
Before she could get another good look, Marble tapped her arm. She passed the watch to him. "I don't remember seeing this down here at all is the thing," she muttered. "It might be from one of those bots."
After a beat, Marble cautiously put it back on the ground. "If it is, I am not fucking with it. Who knows what kind of weird alien technology is on that thing?"
"But what if it's like the Omnitrix?"
He went quiet, looking down at the watch thoughtfully. "Hm…"
Clare quickly grabbed the watch again before her friends got any more ideas. "How about this: we'll ask Blue Cop about it in the morning. If it's not his, we ask Mega Trucker. If it's not his, we bring it back here. Deal?"
"…Deal."
"Whatever, I need to sleep."
~
The friends called Blue Cop the next morning. The four found a deserted parking lot in a quiet part of town, and they all (re-)introduced themselves.
"So what did you need me for?"
Clare took the watch out of her pocket and held it up to his front window. "Do you have any idea what this is?" His optics lit up with excitement.
"I certainly do know what this is! That is the Metal Breath!"
"Oh, so it is yours! You can have it back--"
"No, no. It's yours now, Clare."
She blinked in confusion. "A-Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. If the Metal Breath is allowing you to hold it, that means it has chosen you."
"Back up," Dimitri cut in. "What do you mean it chose her?"
"The Metal Breath can only possessed by the one chosen by Deus Machina, the master computer. The one who holds the Metal Breath... will become the ruler of all Cardbots."
The color drained out of Clare's face. "R- R- Ruler…? I- I don't know how to be a ruler!"
"Uh! Pardon my mistake! I mean... you'd be the boss? The master? The leader?"
His optics darted around, trying to find the right words to put her at ease.
"Hey, WE can hold the Metal Breath too! How come SHE'S ruler?" Marble shouted. Blue Cop shifted his front like a head tilt with a confused look.
"P-Pardon? You said you two could hold the Metal Breath as well?"
"Yeah, look!" Dimitri grabbed the watch out of Clare's hands and slapped it on their wrist with a smirk. "Not just one chosen one around here."
His optics went as wide as robot-sized dinner plates.
"Th-That... That shouldn't be possible..."
"It works for me too," Marble said, taking the Metal Breath off Dimitri's wrist and holding it in his hand.
"Th- Three chosen ones? Deus Machina didn't say anything about this..."
The blue robot mumbled to himself in a frenzy, looking past the three friends.
"Uh… I think we fried his circuits or something."
"Dimitri!"
"Sorry."
After a minute or two, Blue Cop took a calming breath.
"This was certainly... not what I was expecting... but I'm certain there is a good reason Deus Machina willed it this way."
"Thank God. Being the sole leader of a bunch of giant robots sounded so stressful," Clare wheezed out.
"Not to me," Marble said with a sly grin. Dimitri stared directly into Marble's soul.
"Now I must ask: Sir Marble... Miss Clare... Sir Dimitri... will you lend me your powers?"
The three glanced at each other.
"Uh… we don't really have "powers" to lend…"
"Do not worry. The Metal Breath has all the power you would need."
"For what exactly?" Dimi asked.
"Do you remember when I said more Cardbots are hiding on Earth? I said I wish to help them. And now that the Metal Breath has found its chosen one-- er, three-- I can truly succeed in that goal."
"…You really wanna help everyone here on Earth?" Clare looked Blue Cop straight in the window.
"Yes. Your planet has given me a new place to call home. I would never dare take that for granted again."
Clare turned to her friends. "What say you two? You guys matter in this, too."
"If we get to meet more cool giant robots, I'm down," Marble said with a nod.
"…Aw, what the hell. Sure," Dimitri agreed.
"That's your answer, Blue Cop! We'll help you out with this." Blue Cop's optics shone with gratitude.
"Thank you, sirs and miss."
"Just… one thing, though?"
"Yes, miss?"
"No need to call us 'sir' or 'miss', or whatever else. Just Marble, Dimitri, and Clare will do."
"Yes, Clare."
"Says you! Being called sir by a giant robot is awesome!"
Blue Cop looked between Marble and Clare in a flustered confusion.
"We'll, uh… we'll work on it."
"So, how are we supposed to help you exactly?"
"The Metal Breath can seal a Metal Cardbot as a card and inside itself."
"D… Does that hurt them?" Clare asked with worry.
"No. The sealing process is painless."
"And… then what? We're the boss of them? How?"
"I'm... not quite sure how to explain it. I suppose it... establishes a bond with you and the sealed Cardbot."
"Just like that?" Dimitri snapped their fingers to convey their point.
"Somewhat."
"…That kinda sounds like we're manipulating them into liking us." Blue Cop's optics widened in alarm.
"No, no, no! It's not like that!"
He sighed.
"Perhaps it would be better if you saw the process in action."
"So do I just, point the watch at them and bam, they're sealed?"
"Unfortunately, it probably won't be as simple as that. The Cardbots will likely resist us, which is where I will come in."
"What, are you gonna fight them?" They asked jokingly.
"Yes. But only enough to immobilize them long enough for one of you to capture them."
Marble and Dimitri were struck into silence. They looked between Blue Cop and each other.
"Are you serious?" Marble asked incredulously.
"I do not wish to... but it may be our only option in most encounters."
Dimitri suddenly grabbed Clare's shoulders, making her squeak. "DUDE. WE'RE GONNA SEE GIANT ROBOTS BATTLE. WE'RE GONNA MAKE GIANT ROBOTS BATTLE."
"THIS IS THE COOLEST SHIT EVER," Marble cheered.
As enthused Clare felt on the inside, she also felt her stomach twisting into knots. She gently took her friend's hands off her shoulders. "Ok. I'm excited too, but let's take this one step at a time. We need to find a robot first."
"Well, one of them did give you his number."
He pointed at her jean pocket with her phone stored inside. She stared at Marble with an unamused look.
"Dude. Don't say it like that. ...But you're not wrong." She pulled out her phone and stared at the dark screen. "So I just, call him? What do I say?"
"Tell him we're planning another party."
"...We're making a trap for him, aren't we?"
"It'll be our best chance at sealing him."
Clare unlocked her phone, but hesitated on tapping the phone icon.
"Here, I'll do it." Dimitri held out their hand, and she gave up her phone without a fight.
Blue Cop addressed the other two friends as Dimitri talked with Mega Trucker.
"Do either of you know where to procure a large speaker?"
"Tags" summary: Pre-Relationship, City is confused about feelings, Idiots in Love
Word count: 749
Author's notes: i don't know what got over me but i wrote this. Sorry if there are grammar errors or anything, I kind of don't care
ellipsus reader link
It was the day of an important race. Gold City mindlessly tried to fix parts of her outfit that did not require fixing, as she tried to get rid of her anxiety before being called over to the track.
"Nervous?"
City glanced at the voice's source, meeting eye-to-eye with her trainer, Nidia.
She looked away, attempting to fake indifference at the question: "Maybe. But I know I have what it takes to win."
"Of course you do," they nodded. "I mean, look at the trainer you got," they set up an act of overconfidence by framing their right cheek with their own hand.
A deadpan stare was the only reply they received for a couple of seconds, as if the silence was telling them that they were not an outstanding trainer, Nidia believed.
"Do I have to remind you about every training you quit because you couldn't take it anymore?" She teased, reminiscing those days when the roles would switch and Nidia would suddenly become the trainer in hopes of following City's advice.
"Not my proudest moment," they shrugged, back to their usual chill demeanor. "But you know what they say: the coach doesn't play. I do get some uma allegations because of these," they signaled at their pointy strands of her in both their sides, which often appeared to resemble frowny ears when at a considerable distance. "But I'm average, if not worse."
"Geez, you and your self-deprecation… You weren't even that bad for someone who's not an uma musume."
"Oh? Is this finally the day I'll get to witness the Gold city congratulating and complimenting me?" They joked, to which her eyebrows furrowed.
"Hah? What do you mean by that? I have complimented and congratulated you before."
"Then I probably didn't hear. Mind saying 'em to me again?" They chuckled, and just then did City realize it was part of their scheme to make her shower them in praise.
"You—" she gritted her teeth, followed with a groan. "You are so infuriating."
The conversation seemed to falter at that point, with both parties not really minding it much. The silent room gave City space to think that if she didn't say the words then, then they would be lost forever.
She was thankful towards Nidia. Even if they remarked their supposed lack of talent quite often, City was sure there was no other trainer that would have been able to discover her true potential.
Having been reduced to a pretty face since the beginning of her life, it was truly a blessing to have someone beside her who saw her as so much more. She had felt offended by Nidia's comments about how her appearance could look odd from time to time at first. But after several sessions of being trainer and trainee, she realized that that was their way of looking under the beautiful surface and admiring her for who she was, with her flaws and good qualities.
There was often so much banter between both of them, there wasn't usually time to mutter a comfortable 'thank you', because even if it was simple, it seemed to have more weight than City originally imagined. It was not just about helping with her training, but also being there and seeing her as a runner, as a pretty girl and as Gold City; about being present and almost never asking anything in return (even if she had given some favors back by hiding her true intentions, she doubted she could match their generosity and selflessness); about pushing her to her limits; about letting her be a teenager like them; about being a friend.
A friend, she echoed inside her mind. Well, that was what they were. At the end of the day, there is not a bigger label for friendship besides friend or best friend. City often felt like they came short to what Nidia was to her. And she was not sure of whether she felt something else, or the nights where she couldn't fall asleep because she would be thinking of that stupid smile and those void-like eyes were just coincidences. She kind of wanted them to be.
It never crossed her mind that the words to say might have been different than the ones she was so eagerly planning. She did not have time. The track was waiting for her. And she knew that Nidia — that annoying, selfless, generous, handsome, unserious, silly friend of hers — would not have asked for that sort of recognition anyway.
@selfship-writer-support hii! I wrote this fic about my sona and Gold City from Uma Musume some days ago. It's really nice that you made a blog for supporting fellow selfshippers who write ! Thank you 🫶
— this is for yumeshippers who enjoy writing and planning: ellipsus is a great site where you can write, extremely organisable and neat! there are many templates and one that caught my eye was the “fandom ship template”. I decided to tweak it a little and make it more yume friendly, so I’m sharing it with all of you here! you will need an account first to view it but I will share some pictures below to show you how it’s like!
I personally thing that this is an extremely useful tool and the best part? they are extremely anti ai so you won’t have to worry about that at all! to use this template you can simply duplicate or copy-paste it so that you can edit it to your own preference! it has honestly been a game-changer for me and I encourage you all to try it and see if you like it <3
coming home ㅤㅤℱ࿐༢
summary : nothing too crazy ! it's basically a 'day in the life' type fic .
warnings / tags : i'm not expecting this to get beyond my circle , but in the very super odd chance that it does , this is a selfship fic for me and phoenix wright.. it's not x reader or according to canon in any way ! full of domestic, mundane fluff and found family moments between phoenix and trucy ♡ and a tiny itsy bit of angst and self-reflection .. if thats what you wanna call it idk . scratches my head
wc : 3.6k
notes : i barely edited or reviewed this , so i apologize if some things don't make sense or if there are typos i may have missed !! and thank you to anyone who decides to read through to the end ! woohoo ♡♡
"No further questions, Wright. You seem to be talking yourself in circles here." The judge seemed to be taunting Phoenix and his inability to wrap his head around this newfound evidence. Nothing seemed to line up with the documents he already has reviewed. "I'll grant this court a continuance, one last time." His eyes then narrowed. The judge knew Phoenix. A little too well.
The defense attorney jolted backwards slightly, as if he were surprised with this decision, but by God was he grateful. He could almost feel Maya nudging his side slightly, as if she were here, her sharp elbow digging in the worn blue fabric of his blazer. "Believe it or not, I think the Judge has a soft spot for you, granting you all these continuances… You're lucky, you know?" She would say, but Phoenix felt anything but lucky— especially when Edgeworth was standing opposite from him, with that smug look on his face that spoke for itself: 'Your winning streak ends soon, Wright'.
"If the prosecution and defense are finished arguing via eye contact, this court is adjourned until 9:00 AM on Wednesday." The judge then struck his gavel against the sounding block, the sound resembling a fatal gunshot rather than an ending to this case— for now.
Instead of looking like a lost witness in the middle of a vast courtroom, Phoenix found a spot near the wall, wedged between a partition and a buzzing vending machine. He set down his briefcase haphazardly, the thing falling over with a dull thud. Leather wheezed, and he wouldn't be surprised if the dust motes that erupted in the air were from the briefcase itself. He reached in his slacks pocket and took out his phone— a bar phone that was the same tint of blue as his waistcoat, held together with silver electrical tape on the battery cover. His partner teased him about it, how the screen was all cracked up and how the battery fell out every time he dropped it despite the tape. But these new phones were far too expensive, and would be too much of a learning curve for someone like Phoenix— who only uses his phone to text and call two people. The more he repeats the thought to himself, the more he's aware of his own age. He's starting to sound like those cranky old neighbors who 'don't understand kids and their new gadgets and knick-knacks'.
Coming home
Granted a continuance til Wednesday
Do you need anything while I'm out
The message took him about ten minutes to send, having the press buttons two or three times just to get to the letters he had needed. He sent them to his partner, Eiden, who was most likely waiting on him at the apartment, if not picking Trucy up from the bus stop. The thought made him pick up his briefcase, long legs making strides out of the courtroom before he could even think twice about it— driven solely by seeing them, holding them, hugging th—
Vzzzt. Vzzzt.
A moment or two.
Vzzzt... Vzzzt.
A quadruple. It must be important then, Eiden barely texts more than twice at a time.
everything okay?
and you don't have to get me anything if it's out of the way.
picked up trucy from the bus stop though, she has some math homework to get done before tomorrow.
you'll help her right?
Phoenix knew Eiden better than they thought he knew them. 'You don't have to get me anything if it's out of the way' definitely means 'I would appreciate something, but I don't want to tell you, because I'm afraid of being too much', as if a $3 red bean bun from the bakery near the apartment was "too much". As if anything were too much, in regards to them. However, the last text message made him pause, zig-zagged eyebrows quirking all types of ways.
Math? Sure, over his dead body.
He glanced up every couple of moments as he read the messages, making sure he was on the right path, and of course not bumping into anyone. The Los Angeles sidewalks were no joke around this time, everybody getting off of work and rushing to the subway station. Phoenix was just walking into the aforementioned station, second nature taking him to the platform where his daily commute train came. People were whizzing about, coming on and off trains, with their own iteneraries and places to be. But he didn't concern myself with them too much, especially when he had text messages to answer. He set his briefcase between his feet just to keep an eye on it, thinking to himself, 'Don't want the evidence running off'. His own joke made his lips quirk as he typed out a response.
Everything's fine just tired
Ready to come home
Give me 15 and I'll be there
And tell Trucy that she can use her resources, and resources include a calculator
Not me
The train came just on time, the speed of the rattling vehicle causing his stray hairs to fly back, eyes closing from the force of the wind. He pocketed his phone then, bending over slightly to pick up his suitcase, and as soon as the doors to the subway car slid open, he hustled inside. He was jostled by a couple people who were in more of a rush than he was, but that was to be expected for this area. Just a couple more minutes and a bakery run, then he'll be home.
Polished dress shoes scuffed against the carpeted floor of the apartment complex's hallway— it was grimey, needed a deep cleaning, and cigarette smoke clung to every wall and crevice. It was embarrassing most times, that Eiden knew he lived in a run-down place like this. But it hadn't been long since he had gotten reinstated as a defense attorney, and he was barely making ends meet. He fervently promised Eiden that he'd get it together and be financially secure enough for all three of them. They'll move in somewhere nice, maybe the westside.
Yeah. The westside.
Before his thoughts could spiral into something far more self-destructive, he heard Trucy's distinct laugh once he got closer to his apartment's door. He clutched the brown paper bag that held Eiden's red bean bun and Trucy's sugar coated cream filled donut. The only reason why she liked them so much is because apparently the white cream at the top of the donut looks like a 'burrowing bunny's tail'. And of course, bunnies— especially white ones— equal magic, by association.
Once he got to the door, he knocked on it— three quick raps.
"Are boys allowed inside? Or should I eat these snacks out here alone?" Phoenix teased against the door. Before he even finished the last word of his sentence, he could hear Trucy's socked footsteps toddling towards the door.
"Daddy!" Trucy exclaimed as she came up to the door, unlocking the sliding mechanism and twisting the dead bolt knob so he could come inside. As soon as he stepped through the door, he was met with Trucy's slightly frizzy brown hair, her matching star pajama set, and fluffy socks. Seems like she didn't waste any time getting out of her magician's getup after school.
Phoenix smiled as soon as he met her blue eyes, the same eyes that held stars and wonder and abounding curiosity in them. He set his briefcase on the floor, along with the bag of baked goods, and he allowed her to leap into the crook of his arm. She was growing so quickly, limbs no longer stubby, but now a bit lanky. The third-grader kind of lanky. It made him emotional, honestly.
"Hey Bunny!" He said in that excited yet soft tone he only really reserved for Trucy. "Eiden treating you alright while I was at work?" He nipped her nose between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers, pulling at it just enough to make her giggle nasally.
"Mhm!" She nodded excitedly, her bangs bobbing up and down with the movement. "We just finished my math homework n' then I was gonna show them my new trick!"
"Oou, new trick?" Phoenix said, no doubt intruiged. "You're telling me you were gonna show Eiden your new trick without your number one assistant?"
"No, no, Daddy! I was gonna wait for you, obviously!" She whined, small hands gripping at his shirt, fingers brushing his tie.
Phoenix laughed— a real laugh, not a slight exhale through his nose or a half-hearted scoff. He bounced Trucy on his hip, and goodness, she was getting heavy. "I know, I know, Truce." He leaned in to press a firm kiss to her temple.
As Eiden heard them talking and laughing, they slipped out of the small living room. They couldn't make it obvious enough that they were eavesdropping. Phoenix's lips curled into a half smile, secret for them. He discreetly held out his hand, letting them know that they could come close. That after the day he had today, he needed them close.
"Rough day?" Both Phoenix and Eiden said in unison. Phoenix knew that would be the first thing Eiden would say, and imitating them pushed their buttons— something he couldn't help doing sometimes.
"Phoenix!" Eiden exclaimed indignantly, and he responded with a small chuckle that jostled Trucy against his chest. The little magician just looked up at Phoenix, her lips parted in a small 'o'— as if she were studying his face for tells that he indeed did have a rough day.
"You're just so predictable sometimes." He said, voice still stifling laughter from before. "But no, the day was alright. Just tiring. You know how it is." He was purposefully being vague in the presence of Trucy, but she was incredibly perceptive, and far more gifted than children her age. He risked a quick glance at her face, and just as he thought, she was giving him that suspicious look— eyes narrowed, lips thin and distrusting. But even she knew some conversations were better had between two adults, and not a meddling mini magician.
To melt the tension in the room, Phoenix directed the conversation towards the baked goods he swung by to get earlier. "Anyways, brought you two something.." He set Trucy down in order to grab the brown paper bag. "Cream donut for the Bunny," He cooed, handing her the sugary donut. Some of the sweet crystals fell off of the donut during their exchange, and Trucy was already opening her mouth to take a big bite. Phoenix arched his eyebrow at her, and she knew what that meant.
Get to the table. If you don't want to get to the table, at least use a paper towel.
As she scampered off, Phoenix watched her for a second longer before reaching into the bag for the red bean bun. "And red bean bun for the prettiest person in the law firm.." He mumbled, as if it were a confession. He inched closer to them, holding out the red bean bun between their bodies as if it were something precious.
"It doesn't really roll off the tongue, don't you think?" Eiden deflected, lips pursing as they took the red bean bun from his hand.
"Well, I could've said prettiest person in the precicnt." Phoenix quickly insisted, like he already had thought out that exact phrase before saying it. "It works a little better. Alliteration and all that."
"But we aren't in a precinct." Eiden snapped.
"We aren't in a law firm either." Phoenix shrugged.
"But, then… Doesn't that..?" Eiden spluttered, before Phoenix shushed them.
"Eat the red bean bun, Eiden. If it makes you feel better, you're the prettiest person in the law firm, the precinct, and the apartment complex."
Eiden then relented by quieting down, lips poking out in a pouting manner that convinced Phoenix enough to kiss them. It was a soft, fleeting thing, just a chaste press of lips. The action made Phoenix a bit self conscious of how chapped his lips were—he doesn't carry around chapstick and the March winds were cold and brutal. But Eiden didn't seem to care enough to comment. They seemed to be more than content with the red bean bun though, which was quickly dwindling to nothing but crumbs.
"Missed you today, honestly." Phoenix sighed, like a weight was coming off of his chest and he could finally breathe. "Didn't text you it, because.. things like that feel better when you say them in person." His hand came up to his nape, rubbing the space there almost comically, eyebrows quirking slightly. Despite being a 35 year old, he still felt like he was an inexperienced teenager when it came to flirting.
"I missed you too, Phoenix." Eiden echoed, reaching for his hand that was at his side. Phoenix's eyes darted towards the kitchen, like the act of him and Eiden holding hands would scandalize Trucy. Or perhaps he was just growing embarrassed and wanted to look anywhere else but their hands linked together. Regardless, he let their fingers thread together, palms pressing against one another firmly. The butter that was brushed over the red bean bun had transferred to Eiden's fingers when they ate it, which then smeared over Phoenix's knuckles as they rubbed them. But he could care less.
"Are you going to be working tonight?" Eiden asked, eyebrow lifting upwards.
Phoenix's demeanor seemed to deflate at the mention of work. "Have to." He answered grudgingly. "New evidence to review tonight, investigation to conduct tomorrow before the trial. Big things, you know." Resentment and sarcasm blended together, a toxic concoction that dripped from from every word. Usually Phoenix wasn't this angry about work. Was this case really that bad?
Eiden took a small breath of consideration before suggesting hesitantly, "I can keep you company? While you review the evidence and… notes. Those kinds of things." Their hand pulled away from Phoenix's to gesture in the air.
His eyes widened just a smidge. Eiden was never one to ask Phoenix if they could keep him company, they usually just silently stalked into his office without ceremony and sat beside him like a cat— dark eyes burning holes into the side of his head.
Without thinking, his hand came up to rest on their waist, hand cupping the area there warmly. He bowed his head down so they were closer to eye level, and he nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners from the sheer magnitude of the smile that was creeping upon his lips. "You don't even have to ask."
He then leaned in and pressed another kiss to Eiden's lips. His free hand travelled upwards to rest on their cheek, thumb stroking the apple of it. Eiden's head tilted slightly, nose bumping against Phoenix's just for a moment before realigning. They seemed to melt into the tender, warm feeling of the kiss, and Phoenix had to adjust his hold on their waist so they didn't topple over into him— even though he wouldn't mind.
He couldn't hear Trucy finally shifting around in the kitchen or the trash can lid striking down over the steady, loud thumping of his own heart.
But he could hear when she whined out, "Daddy, grosssssss!"
Her tiny brown eyebrows furrowed deeply, as if she had been betrayed, her arms crossed. The icing on the cake—literally speaking— was the dried bit of cream next to her frowning lips. Phoenix and Eiden both jolted away from one another, Phoenix's hands finding his sides quicker than he could realize he was moving them, and Eiden's eyes widened big enough that their irises looked like mere pinpricks.
Now he was starting to wish she had walked in on them when they were just holding hands.
The office in the apartment was warmly lit, and the soft buzz of the small desk lamp permeated the space. Case notes were sprawled across mahogany wood, some having small coffee stains on them, others dog-eared to signify importance. Evidence was enclosed in heavy duty plastic bags, tagged with looping handwriting that Eiden was surprised that Phoenix could even read. Phoenix's signature blue pen was nestled between the area behind his helix and his head, his hand cradling his chin in a thinking position. Though, he couldn't get much thinking done with Eiden nearby.
"Any leads yet?" Eiden questioned without looking up from whatever they were doing. They were doing laundry, folding clothes in that painfully compact way they did. They folded socks like a madman, and unfolding them was like a far too intricate puzzle. The corner of Phoenix's lip twitched and peered over at them to answer.
"Actually," He started, leaning back in his chair which caused it to screech out a loud and long Squeeeeaaaak. "Multiple. It's actually pissing me off that I didn't catch these during the trial yesterday morning.. My head was somewhere else, I swear…" He closed his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, hands scrubbing over his face for a moment. After his little show of wallowing, his hand run through his hair, dislodging the pen that was behind his ear. It clattered to the floor, and Eiden was quick with picking it up for him, sliding it onto his desk.
Phoenix made a show of taking it from them, making sure their fingers brushed against one another's. "Thanks. You know I'd go crazy without this thing." He murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to their cheek.
"As if you don't have twenty other ones that look exactly like that one." Eiden countered, cheek smushed against Phoenix's lips and voice low enough to be a whisper. Their voices were so soft, making the conversation seem more intimate than it actually was. They were talking about a pen for goodness sake.
"I'd go crazy without those too." Phoenix argued, pulling away from them just a bit. "And without you, or Trucy." His voice got quieter then, cheeks tinting that gentle mauve color Eiden loved, even if it was hardly visible in the dim lighting. They knew Phoenix could barely tell a rose from a peony, but the way the blush bloomed on his cheeks was a flower that defied categorization.
"I'd hope that Trucy and I are a little more important to you than your pen collection." Eiden teased, knowing Phoenix would immediately backtrack due to how it might've sounded.
"No, no, not like that!" He blurted out, his fingers letting go of the pen. It fell to the desk with a dull thud, muffled by the mounds of papers. He then reached for Eiden, his hands settling on their waist. His thumbs swept at the cotton fabric of their sweatpants waistband in a grounding motion that was more for him than them. He must've looked crazy right now— with the frazzled look on his face, the perpetual strands of hair escaping his spikey hairdo that always fell in between his eyebrows, in his Steel Samurai t-shirt from years ago that had the hole in the hem— all holding onto his partner in a desperate bid to make them believe that both them and his child were worth more than some blue pens. "It's just… the ink is really nice, okay?" He then looked up at them with his best puppy dog eyes, shining yet conniving.
"Oh, you're messing with me!" Eiden whined, eyebrows furrowing as they jerked towards his chair with their knees, causing it to move back barely half an inch. Phoenix just used his hands that were still on Eiden's waist to pull himself forward, chair wheeling towards them.
"You messed with me first."
"Whatever."
"You always say that when you lose."
"Phoenix!"
"What?!"
It was rapid-fire between them, but the little squabble just ended in Phoenix pressing kisses all over Eiden's face, wherever he could reach.
Around 10PM, the end of the night, Phoenix was getting Trucy into bed. She was pulling her favorite act titled: 'Daddy, I'm not tired! I dont want to go to bed!' which ends in her immediately conking out as soon as she hits the sheets. Phoenix fluffed the pillow slightly as she laid her head down, long brown hair spreading across the pillow like an auburn ink stain. "Night night, Truce." Phoenix murmurs softly, bending down so he could press a kiss to her forehead. "Love you." His voice was a faint breath against her skin, his eyes closing wistfully. He hestiantly moved away from her in order to tuck her in, making sure the blankets were tight, almost swaddling her. He did it every night, even though he knew by the morning she'd have starfished— blankets on the floor, a pillow here, her sock there. A truce-nado, if you will.
He then padded across the room, trying his hardest not to make any noise as her leaned down to click on her nightlight— a little projector that wheeled stars of different sizes on her ceiling. Before leaving, he closed the door just enough so a sliver of light spilled through. He stopped outside of the door, seeing the golden light from the lamps in his bedroom reflecting onto the wooden floor in front of him. He knew that just around this corner, Eiden would be waiting for him in bed, probably reading, or probably already asleep.
He let his head peek around the corner, stray hairs flopping about in an animated manner. Eiden's eyes immediately caught his, and they were indeed sitting up against the headboard and reading. They looked away and down, pretending to be focused on whatever plot was in their book as they stifled a smile. Phoenix's own eyes crinkled and he felt a small chuckle bubbling up in his chest.
As he walked into the golden light of the bedroom, wooden floorboards creaking on the way, he was in awe of how coming home to this felt like absolution. Every time.
@selfship-writer-support !! it's been a week since i posted this but i actually forgot that i can utilize you guys !! ♡♡ thank you so much for making this account & giving advice and support to selfship writers .. very sweet of you guys ..
I wrote this fic as a kind of cathartic thing bcs unfortunately my tokophobia has been getting triggered a lot lately, so I wanted to explore a little bit of those feelings with this fic. You can think of it as my kind of explanation of where the phobia comes from for me lol. But it takes place earlier on in the relationship between Robby and Raven, so about 6 months in. Also I'll be honest, I had no idea what to title this fic so the title is kind of ass but I promise the fic itself is pretty good lmao
Rating: Teen
Words: 1774 words
Divider by saradika
Content warning: discussions of pregnancy and labor (+ mentions of traumatic births) + very negative attitudes towards it, body horror-like imagery, alcohol use
“That smells good,” Robby says, drawing Raven’s attention to him as he steps into the kitchen.
She had heard him come in, taking off his shoes at the door and shrugging off his heavy winter coat. He looks tired— it must have been a long day at the emergency department and Raven thinks she’ll have to ask him about that later. Sometimes he still holds back when talking about his day, a side effect of years of bottling things up, but it's nice to think about how open he's become with her.
“It's nothing fancy, just a tofu stir fry,” Raven replies, redirecting her attention back to the wok in front of her. “The rice just finished, so it should be ready in a minute or two.”
“Great,” Robby says, coming by to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before he makes his way towards the fridge.
After he closes the fridge door, Raven can hear him taking the cap off of one of the beers he's started keeping here. When she looks up again, Robby’s leaning against the counter, taking a sip of his drink and looking at her with an affectionate smile, the kind that makes his crow’s feet stand out more.
“What?” Raven asks.
“Just thinking,” Robby replies.
“About?”
“The future,” he says. “I helped deliver a baby today.”
Raven’s shoulders tense ever so slightly. She grips the spatula she's using harder, eyes locked on the mix of tofu and veggies in the wok.
“Cool,” she manages. “Can you get plates? The food should be ready now.”
She hears Robby put his beer down on the counter, hears the sound of him opening a cabinet to grab a pair of plates that clack together. She tries to focus on that rather than what he's talking about right now, though it's hard to when she doesn't want him to know how little she wants to think about this.
“I was thinking that when we have kids, I can help you out too. This wasn't the first birth we’ve had in the ED, so I have the experience for it,” he says.
“Maybe,” Raven forces out.
She hates how tense she feels over this, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to relieve some of that tension. And she hates that a part of her is frustrated with Robby for even bringing up something like this.
Raven’s never told Robby about her tokophobia. There are few natural ways to bring up that one of the worst things she could imagine happening to her is something that other people see as a cause for celebration. But the thought of ever being pregnant makes her stomach turn as much as it would thinking about having some kind of terminal illness, and the stir fry she made suddenly looks much less appetizing to her. And despite herself, she feels hurt thinking that Robby would want her to go through something like that, that he would want her in that condition, and maybe even imagine it multiple times since he said kids like it would be something he would want more than once.
As Robby gives her a plate, having already scooped some rice onto it, Raven gets some stir fry from the wok, muttering a thanks to him before she goes to sit at the kitchen table.
He doesn't know that what he's thinking about now is something that she would never want. She tells herself that she shouldn't be upset with him because it's not as if he knows how much the idea of being pregnant sickens her.
Raven should tell him that she’ll never be able to give him kids. That for as much as she loves him, she can't ever be in that situation. That she would have to leave if that’s what he wants, even if it would break her heart.
But he looks more at ease than usual as he takes a seat at the table. Tired, but in a good mood. And she doesn't want to take that from him. She doesn't want to weigh him down with all of her ridiculous baggage.
Instead, Raven picks up her fork, spearing a bit of tofu on the prongs, and says, “So, how was your day?”
Later, Raven sits on the couch next to Robby, writing on her laptop while the hum of the Steelers game plays on the TV. They must have just gotten a touchdown because she hears Robby say, “there we go!” before he guides her face towards his to press a kiss to her lips.
“Touchdown?” she prompts.
“Uh-huh. And we've got a strong lead,” he replies with a grin.
“That's good.”
As Raven directs her attention back to her laptop, it’s hard to think of what she wants to write. She knows she wants to do something— maybe work on the horror story she's been planning out— but her brain is too scattered to be able to string together words like she'd want to.
She can feel Robby’s eyes on her as he asks, “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replies, still staring at her laptop.
“Doesn't seem like it. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you jump between twitter and Google Docs like a hundred times in the last hour,” Robby says. He nudges her leg with his knee. “You wanna talk?”
“I’m just feeling off tonight.”
“Then that sounds like something you should talk about,” Robby insists. “C’mon, Rae. You're always listening to me talk about my shit. What's going on with you?”
Raven looks up from her laptop completely now, sighing as her eyes meet Robby’s. She can't resist him with the way he's staring at her, his big, brown eyes filled with worry.
“Sorry. What you said before dinner just threw me off,” she says.
Robby’s eyebrows furrow for a second, like he's trying to remember what he had said. Then a confused look comes across his face. “What? About me helping you deliver a baby? I was just throwing the idea out, we don't need to—”
“No, it's— I, ugh,” Raven interrupts, massaging her temples with one hand. “I don't want to be in that situation. Ever. I can't— I… I’m scared of pregnancy stuff.”
“Ah.” Robby shuffles closer to her, taking her laptop and placing it on the coffee table. He looks at her with a soft expression, brushing some of her hair over her shoulder. “That's fine. Plenty of people get freaked out by it.”
“It's not just getting freaked out by it, it's— okay, the lady you helped today, she was probably because there was, like, an issue with the delivery stuff, right? So she needed emergency help,” Raven says.
“It was,” he confirms with a nod.
“And that’s probably what it’s been like for all of the people you’ve helped with that. Because that— it can kill you. And it can change your body just, like, forever in general. And that's not even getting into how much it fucks with you the whole time that you're carrying it, or how dehumanizing people act about it because oh, you have to make sure you're eating enough for the baby, it's all for the baby. And you just spend months getting sick and swelling all over and hurting, but hey! That's what you're supposed to do, for the baby. Just let your mind and body get fucked up for the sake of something that's like— that's growing like a parasite inside of you.”
The words come spilling out before Raven can help herself. It's hard to look at Robby as she speaks, so instead she looks at the football game playing on the TV, blinking back tears. It's both cathartic to get to say all of this and something that stirs a feeling of guilt in her chest. Because as much as Raven sees this as a real life body horror, she knows that there are plenty of other people who would do anything if it meant they could have a baby. Maybe Robby’s one of those people— he hasn't had any kids, so maybe helping the woman at the ED today made him realize that he wants that. And the guilt eats at her as tears stain her cheeks, eyes closing when she feels Robby wrap his arms around her.
“Hey, it's okay,” he says, voice low and soothing. “It's okay.”
“It's stupid,” Raven says. She sniffles, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“No, it's not, when you put it like that, it sounds like a fucking nightmare,” Robby replies. He takes Raven’s glasses off, setting them by her laptop, so she can better try to wipe her eyes. With his other hand, he massages circles into her side, trying to soothe her.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I can’t— I can’t give you a baby.”
“That’s fine, I don’t need one. I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do,” Robby promises. “If we really want to have a kid someday, we can just adopt or get a surrogate or something. You don’t have to actually bear my child.”
Raven looks up at him with still misty eyes. “You’re sure? It’s not— it’s not a deal breaker?”
He lets out a short, sharp laugh at that, gently guiding her into his lap. He squeezes her tightly in a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“You’d have to do a lot more than just not want to do something that scares you to make me leave, sweetheart,” Robby says. “The only way you’re getting rid of me now is if I die.”
“Well, you’re not allowed to do that,” Raven says, burying her face against his chest.
“But it’s fine. So don’t worry about this anymore, okay? We’re fine. I'm not going to bring it up anymore,” he promises. He pets her hair with one hand, mirroring how she’s comforted him before.
“Okay,” she says.
And it’s easier to feel like things really are okay with Robby holding her like this. Every touch he gives her is gentle, grounding. It helps the anxiety digging at her heart ease, helps the tears slow enough that she can recenter herself. Robby doesn’t let her go through it all, and Raven hopes this means that he never will. Believing that he really would be happy without getting to make a family with her is still hard, but she wants to believe that he’s telling the truth. She wants to believe that she can have a future with Robby, one where she doesn’t have to be afraid and will always have him at her side.
Trains in Hell were…interesting, to say the least. I only had one memory of a train from back when I was alive, our mom insisted our dad save up so we could experience it at least once, it's one of the best memories I have of us all together. Hell's trains were similar in the sense that they were old fashion trains, not bullet trains or the like, and we didn't have a subway. No one in Hell had really taken much interest in modernizing them, considering that packed in sinners always led to violence of some kind. Not to mention, what with us all trapped in this infernal city together, long distances weren't exactly a concern.
The one Lee and I were in only existed because the older sinners insisted on it, and it wasn't cheap considering how many bloodstains and damage they ended up having to contend with at the end of the day. But not only could I easily afford it myself, Satan had given us train passes that made payment unnecessary. She insisted it wasn't worth it when the cost of the food and other luxuries tended to add up, especially on longer trips. For instance, not every compartment had a bathroom attached to it, you had to pay extra for that, and I did mean extra. So yes, the train was more modern in some regards, if you paid for it, while trying to superficially maintain it's old timey aesthetic. The train's job was to go in circles around the city, stopping in each region of Hell and simulating as long of a trip as a sinner wanted and could afford.
The compartment we had was cozy, to say the least, with the usual train benches to the left side and bunk beds to the right next to the door to the restroom. There was enough room between them to fit a person, but no more, and originally we both couldn't fit until we'd stowed our bigger luggage away. I stepped out of the bathroom, having showered after Lee with my holographic fins off and my tail stashed in my bag beneath the bed, navigating the place would have been impossible otherwise.
Lee sat curled in the cushioned bench, reading a book he put down after marking the page upon hearing the bathroom door close behind me. For once I was thankful for our tight quarters, making up for my less than stellar balance by holding onto the sides of the bed. I sat next to Lee when he patted the space beside him, looking out the window as we passed the Entertainment District. Its neon glow was a familiar and comforting sight. I wasn't really sure if I felt more like a boy or a girl today, so I'd given my left eye lashes while the other remained bare. I was just a boygirl relaxing in their pajamas for the time being.
"I know the whole point was to try and sleep on a train, but I'm not sleepy at all," Lee said with a light giggle.
"We should probably at least get into bed so we start feeling sleepy. These compartments are nicely soundproof, so we can watch videos on my phone until we feel tired. We can probably manage to slip into one bed too if you want."
"Sure, I'd like that."
Something I'd realized when it came to Lee and I was that we'd learned how to "fit" together, and I did mean that both metaphorically and literally. It took a while for us to officially "get together" in any capacity, Lee and I were so similar in some regards, and yet also exact opposites where it mattered most. Since then we adored being close to each other, and squeezing into tight spaces together comfortably was a practiced skill we'd become rather good at. It started off small, like fitting into Lee and Chester's bed without disturbing them, and then we found ourselves in tighter situations, such as finding a way to situate ourselves in the bath that wasn't too constricting. We were similar to Tripster and Mel, if we could be together in any given situation we wanted to be, but we could do things on our own as well.
With some squirming we fit into the bottom bunk, Lee laying on top of me and against the wall while I let my legs stretch out on the opposite side, feet draping off the edge a little, but that's how I liked it. Turning off the lights, I pulled up a video that got turned off sooner rather than later, deciding we just wanted to stare out the window for a while longer with some nice music on in the background. We both had to admit that Hell was pretty impressive from a distance, inventing a sort of game out of spotting the most bizarre commercials we could spot on billboards and the sides of buildings. It was pitch black outside except for them, and that plus their distance made them, for once, easy on the eyes. I'd dimmed my screen as well, Lee resting his head just below my chin and lightly tickling it with his fur. Together, we just laid back, relaxed, and appreciated the sights until we eventually fell asleep.
Madeline had fallen asleep curled up at Zanzo’s side, her head on his chest and looking peaceful as she slept… Her cyborg boyfriend was obviously experiencing cuteness aggression as a result, giggling softly to himself with a big smile across his lips as he ran his fingers through the girl’s hair.
“Ohh, look at yoooou~” he purred. “Such a snuggly little kitten, aren’t you?~”
He wrapped both arms around Madeline’s sleeping form, humming a bit to himself as he rested his chin on top of her head.
“You are quite possibly the happiest experience I’ve had since Roxanne kicked me out of Vandelay Technologies and forced me to seek other means of funding,” Zanzo murmured. “Just the most precious little thing~”
Cupping the girl’s face, he placed a few small kisses on her head… and Madeline stirred a bit in his arms as a result. Even in her sleep, she was leaning into his touch. It caused a grin to appear on Zanzo’s face as he chuckled to himself—though his struggle to contain himself caused the girl’s eyes to flutter open as a tired inquisitive hum escaped her.
“Oh—no, no, no; it’s alright, kitten whiskers~” Zanzo crooned lovingly to his girlfriend as he caressed her face. “Go back to sleep~… Daddy’s right here~”