#my fanfic.

[dawnquafam]

“Are you afraid of me?” “Yeah. I mean, kinda. Definitely.” For Stephen & Mera

Enjoy 2.2k words of Stephen being a bundle of anxiety and Mera being a supportive future sister-in-law!

Time ceased to matter when Stephen was with Orm. Lying on a blanket in the lighthouse’s front yard, he talked and talked, one arm wrapped around Orm’s back while the other hand gestured emphatically. Any of his exes would have fallen asleep or asked him to stop by now, particularly when he ranted about Atlantis, but Orm listened attentively to every word he said about every topic that crossed his mind, his head pillowed on his shoulder and his leg draped over his thighs, occasionally offering a thoughtful question that set him off on an entirely new tangent. The only idle thing about him was the way his hand traced random patterns across his stomach, alternately wrinkling and smoothing his shirt, the softest touch from someone who could crush steel without batting an eye. Stephen talked from broad daylight to sundown, his boyfriend’s warmth keeping the cooling temperature at bay, and his attention never wavered.

Orm listening to him like this wasn’t new, but everything else – the relationship, the cuddling, spending time like this with someone who cared – very much was, and he never wanted it to end.

The front door creaked open, footsteps crossing the porch. “Hello, lovebirds.”

Time slammed back into full speed. He and Orm both jumped, but while Orm’s clenched fist immediately relaxed upon realizing it was Mera, Stephen’s entire body tensed. He sat bolt upright, guilt twisting in his stomach when the movement very abruptly dislodged his very comfortable boyfriend. “Um, hi, Mera,” he greeted.

Orm shot him a wounded look, but there was concern beneath the indignation. Mera stopped in her tracks. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Totally fine, yup, why wouldn’t it be?” he responded, barely suppressing a wince at how blatantly awkward it sounded. Which wasn’t exactly unusual for him, but he didn’t want his rambling mouth to betray his nerves right now. Though it’s far too late for that.

Mera arched her eyebrow, predictably seeing straight through the forced cheerfulness. Orm did, too, and Stephen didn’t miss them sharing one of their silent conversations about it. She glanced at her best friend, and he tore his gaze away from Stephen to subtly shake his head in response. Frowning, she tilted her chin towards the lighthouse, and Orm nodded. “I’m going to make us some sandwiches.”

Stephen’s heart sank when he started to sit up, a chill already creeping across him where he had lain. “You don’t have to,” he tried, almost reaching for his hand to pin him in place until he remembered that Mera was watching. He withdrew his hand before they could touch, heart aching when Orm’s hand closed around empty air.

“You said you were hungry a little while ago,” he answered through visible disconcertion. He glanced at Stephen’s cheek, clearly wanting to kiss him, but Stephen couldn’t make himself lean in for his usual invitation, and Orm didn’t push him. “I won’t be long.”

“Ok,” he mumbled, looking away to avoid the confusion in his eyes as he stood. I swear I’m not trying to push you away, he wanted to say, but no words made it out of his throat.

With one last glance at both of them, Orm headed inside. Mera took his place before Stephen could even think about protesting, sitting down in one graceful motion. “I could be diplomatic about this,” she said, “or we could skip straight to the whale in the room.”

Wishing, for far from the first time, that he had even a shred of her poise under pressure, Stephen hoped that his attempt to shuffle slightly away just looked like he was getting comfortable. “There’s no whale,” he lied feebly.

“Not when I first stepped outside,” she allowed. “You were as happy as could be. Until you heard me.”

He ducked his head, unable to argue. She was a born and raised politician who had lived a lifetime in secrecy, trained from childhood to observe even the tiniest of details about everyone around her – of course she had noticed his timing. “It’s ridiculous,” he mumbled.

“Arthur insisting that the president might be Atlantean solely because he looks similar to Orm is ridiculous,” Mera said. “Whatever this is… is not.” She paused, considering him, smoothing the fabric around her thigh with fidgeting fingers. “Are you afraid of me?”

A million judgmental stares flashed through his mind, a lifetime of seeing the exact moment everyone around him mentally wrote him off as ludicrous at best or insane at worst. A lifetime of struggling to make relationships work, of fighting tooth and nail not to be himself long enough to get to the meeting the family stage of a relationship, only to see the crushing disapproval in the eyes of the few people he did manage to get introduced to the second they recognized him. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I mean, kinda. Definitely.”

She furrowed her brows. “Why?”

“It’s not… I mean, it’s…” He sighed, taking his glasses off to scrub a hand down his face. “It’s not you, exactly. It’s- it’s all of you, but it’s not… it’s not really any of you, either. I’m just- I’m not really used to my boyfriends’ families… liking me.”

And they were just normal people, he added to himself. Not… the Atlantean royal family.

“We’ve all been rooting for this relationship for the better part of the last two years,” she reminded him. “You two were the last ones to notice your feelings. Arthur and Tom are the ones who talked Orm into realizing he’s queer in the first place.”

“I know,” Stephen said wearily. “I know it makes no sense. You guys have been there for me since Antarctica, and it’s not like any of you are going to think I’m crazy for believing in Atlantis. It’s just…” He put his glasses back on. “I’m a scientist. I like patterns and data. And my entire dating history… is a lot of data forming one big pattern. Recognizing that far sooner than I actually did could’ve saved me a lot of heartbreak.”

“Allowing old data to scare you now would only cause more heartbreak,” she pointed out gently. “Patterns can always be broken under the right circumstances, and you have those here. We all do. Just about everyone in that lighthouse has broken one or two in their lives, and we have no intention of stopping now. You became part of this family well before you officially began dating Orm. We’re not going to suddenly turn our backs on you simply because everyone else made that mistake.”

“You say that now,” Stephen muttered, anxiety bleeding out as bitterness, as the twisted pain that had built walls around his heart for so long. It had taken a lifetime of agonizing rejection after agonizing rejection, but he had finally learned to push people away in the end. David had been the first exception in a long time, and everyone knew how that went. He had nearly forgotten how it felt to put those walls up when dating Orm was no more than a wild fantasy, but now… “Everyone changes their mind at some point.”

“No.” She laid her hand on his arm, catching his eye. “You saved my son, Stephen.”

“I sent a message,” he said with a shrug. “Two years ago.”

“You sent a message that no one else could send,” she said firmly. “And you were nearly killed trying to protect him on your own until we could get there. Every moment that I’ve had with my son for the last two years has been because of you, and every moment after this will be the same. The gratitude I feel for that will stay with me until my dying breath. We are together because of you, and the least I can do in return is approve of you dating my best friend.”

He searched her expression, looking for the lie, looking for the doubt that had shadowed his every relationship. “You really do?”

“I do,” she assured him. “We do. You’re kind, intelligent, and brave. The two of you make each other happy, and you trust each other in ways neither of you trust anyone else. We would be fools not to continue welcoming you into his life and our family.”

“Even though I’m not a prince?” he asked, the silent insecurity slipping out, tinged by the desperate need to believe her. “Or a warrior? Or anyone special who can keep him safe when the Fishermen come looking for him?”

“I was a princess and I didn’t deserve him.” Old guilt haunted her eyes until she blinked it away. “Just as he became a king who did not deserve me. He can protect himself, and when he cannot, that is why we’re here. If he cared that you can’t do for him what we can, then he wouldn’t feel so safe in your arms. It matters far more to all of us that you are one of the very few people in his life who has never hurt him.” She squeezed his shoulder, letting the words sink in before she continued. “You do not need a title to be noble or superpowers to be strong – those are qualities that only mean anything when they are found in your heart, and you have a good one, Stephen. That is what makes you special. That is why we will always want you here.”

There was no hesitation in her voice, no reservation in her touch. Her words didn’t reek of false pleasantries, of the pressing need to tell Orm to dump him the second he stepped out of earshot. She really meant what she was saying. Maybe David did go horribly wrong, he conceded slowly. But it landed me here, didn’t it?

Hope dared to bloom where once there had only been despair. Stephen looked over her shoulder when the front door creaked open again, and she followed his gaze to Orm, heading back to them with a couple plates in his hands. “Cuddle with him all you want, Stephen,” she told him. “Gods know you both deserve it.”

He learned to lower his walls to get us this far, he thought, remembering the withdrawn, touch-averse man who had first moved in with him. If I want this to work – and I want nothing more than that – then… it’s my turn now.

Orm paused a short distance away, head tilted in question. Stephen nodded, and his shoulders visibly relaxed in relief as he resumed walking. The same relief escaped him in a heavy breath, the same weight lifting from his own shoulders. “Thank you,” he murmured to Mera.

“I’m always here if you need to talk.” She leaned in, and Stephen thought she was going for a cheek kiss until her eyes started to glow, ominous in the fading daylight. “Never forget, though,” the queen whispered, a mischievous smile softening her words, “that I am still his best friend. If you break his heart, I will break you.”

“Don’t worry.” It was far more foreboding than any of the stiffly polite conversations his exes’ families had exchanged with him, but his answering smile was easy and reassured. “He’s safe with me.”

And I’m safe with him. With… our family.

She sat back, content. “Good.”

“Stop threatening him,” Orm said, reaching them in time to catch her teasing. “And get out of my spot. Please,” he added grumpily when she didn’t move.

She sprang lightly to her feet, stealing a chip off his plate. He frowned but didn’t protest, handing the plates to Stephen before sitting down, still not quite as graceful on land as she was. Happily crunching her stolen chip, she headed off for her regular evening swim, and Orm asked him, “Are you feeling better?”

“Much.” He set the plates aside and cupped Orm’s cheeks. “I’m sorry I got weird.”

“It’s all right.” He leaned into Stephen’s touch. “Weird is normal in this family.”

“True enough,” Stephen said with a laugh. “Come here.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed him gladly, and Stephen savored the combined hint of salt and taste of Atlantean heat that had quickly become one of his favorite things in the world. The last traces of bitterness and fear melted away at the touch of his lips, as loving here in front of his family’s house as he was in the privacy of their apartment, a far cry from the sudden uncomfortable distance his exes had shown when they took him home. He even savored the pulling away, breaking apart just enough to breathe, because it was his choice, just as it always was, and Orm lingered just as he always did, staying close where everyone else had only pulled away.

Maybe that was all the proof I should’ve needed that this time is different.

“You do know that I would protect you from her, right?” Orm asked, their noses still brushing, his hands on his waist, his fingers curled into his shirt.

“I know that you would try,” Stephen said. “But we both know that you can’t beat her in a fight. Or during game night.”

He pouted. “I defeated her at Monopoly once.”

Stephen shook his head fondly, kissing him again and instantly wiping away the adorable pouting. He pulled his boyfriend back down to the blanket, the sandwiches entirely forgotten, caring only about holding on to him and never letting go, regardless of who might see them.

[dawnsedits]

There's an Endless Road to Rediscover

Aquaman 2 spoilers ahead!

Mera and Orm were best friends, once upon a time, but she had to accept long ago that the boy she used to love had become a villain she had to defeat. It was the only way to save the world, and imprisoning him was the only way to protect Atlantis. But when life brings them together one last time, she discovers that her best friend isn't as lost she thought.

(Or: Five times Mera and Orm had history, and one time they had a future.)

Mera & Orm ~ 7.4k ~ AO3

“Clear out, guys. I have private stuff to discuss with my wife.”

Arthur’s voice stirred Mera from her nap. The guards outside of her hospital room obeyed, swimming out to take up new positions at a discreet distance as he drifted inside. He perched on the edge of her bed, gathering one of her hands into both of his, rubbing nervous circles around the back of it with his thumb. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ll be back to full strength in a day or two,” she assured him. She pushed herself more upright, waving off his attempt to stop her. “What are you up to?”

Tense at her side, he watched the last straggling guard reach his distant position. “There’s only one person who might know where to find Manta,” he said lowly, “and I’m about to go break him out.”

Orm.

Even unspoken, his name hung heavy in the water. Atlanna had spearheaded the negotiations, fighting tooth and nail to keep him in an Atlantean prison, but once it became clear that continued arguments would only spark a war – a war that neither the Brine Kingdom nor Xebel would support, leaving Atlantis alone to fight over a single man – even she had swallowed her protests and allowed them to take him. They all had, largely relegating their varying levels of guilt and grief to private conversations and locked boxes in the backs of their minds as the years swept on without him. The Fishermen would never let him go, and they were forbidden from so much as checking in on him. What more could they do, besides carry his memory with them and take care of the kingdom he had left behind?

Risk war once more to break him out, apparently.

The thought had certainly crossed her mind, not to mention Atlanna’s. She had even convinced Mera to go to her father together to request that he send spies to locate where the Fishermen had imprisoned him, a request that he did, much to their surprise, begrudgingly oblige. It had only ever been a fantasy, though. A fantasy that neither queen could make a reality, not with the fate of their kingdom at stake. No matter how much they loved the boy he had been.

“You were friends, weren’t you, when you were kids?” he asked. “You don’t talk about him much, but I think Mom mentioned that at some point.”

Mera sat on the balcony of her bedroom in the Atlantean palace, her legs swinging over the edge. Orm sat cross-legged beside her, snacking on some tuna and watching sharks and other animals swim peacefully by. “That one has a cool scar,” he said, pointing at a hammerhead with a jagged gash across its gills.

“It does.” She squinted at the shark, studying its form. “Do you want to see what I figured out how to do yesterday?”

He looked at her curiously. “Sure.”

Biting her lip, Mera held her hands a few inches apart and concentrated on the water between them, feeling every molecule. Her palms glowed blue as she twisted them together, picturing the hammerhead, and slowly, a miniature version of the shark took shape, outlined in the same glowing blue. Orm stared, his eyes huge with awe. “Whoa.”

Mera grinned. Carefully moving her hands so they were above and below the recreation instead of beside it, she started moving it in slow, small circles, its tail flicking back and forth. Its outline wavered, bubbly and unsteady, but Orm didn’t seem to notice. “Can you make a mosasaur?”

“Maybe,” Mera said. “Or I could do this.”

Closing her fist, she turned the shark into a ball and lobbed it at Orm’s face. “Hey!” he yelped, spluttering. “I’m gonna get you for that.”

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

Pushing off the balcony, she dove towards the seafloor, the levels of the palace flashing past her. Orm leaped after her, abandoning his tuna, and they raced around and through their home, scattering schools of fish and startling the servants. Their laughter rippled through the water, a joyful soundtrack to a carefree moment that she wished would never end.

“Yes,” she admitted, speaking the words aloud for the first time in… she didn’t know how long. “He was my best friend.”

That’s why it broke my heart to save you in your first battle. That’s why I tried until the very last moment to convince him to follow his mother’s teachings. That’s why I’m glad you didn’t kill him to take the throne, and why he still haunts my nightmares when I think about him in that place.

“And you still worked with Vulko to take him down.”

Arthur’s voice held no edge of accusation, no bladed question wondering how she could do such a thing, but her locked box of guilt rattled dangerously regardless. “It was the right thing to do.”

He nodded, drumming his fingers against her hand. “What was he like?” he wondered. “You know, before all of that.”

Mera closed her eyes, picturing the smiling boy who used to play soldiers and pirates with her. “He was curious,” she murmured. “He loved stories and languages, and he had his head buried in a book every chance he had. It didn’t matter if it was fiction or non-fiction.” Despite the pain of remembering, a nostalgic smile crept into her expression. “He was shy, at first, always following Atlanna around like he was her shadow, but once he let you in, he was as eager and playful as Junior. We used to call each other ‘silly.’”

“Silly?” he exclaimed. “You, I get. I mean, you use your fancy superpowers to throw Junior’s pee in my face. But him?”

“It started as a code word,” she explained. “Our way of talking about Atlanna in public after her execution, especially around his father. It evolved into a nickname as time went on, I suppose.” She frowned. “I don’t remember when we stopped using it.”

“Probably when he turned into a dick,” Arthur said. She pursed her lips. “Sorry.” He looked at her, twining their fingers together. “It must’ve been hard for you, having to turn against him.”

She firmly ignored the rattling box. “It was the right thing to do,” she repeated.

He tilted his head sympathetically, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “That doesn’t mean it was easy.”

“There must be another way,” Mera protested, pacing around their safehouse. She hated how dry the air felt, making her skin itch, scraping against her throat and lungs. She hated hiding from her father, from her best friend, from the people she had believed she could trust. She hated this.

“There is not,” Vulko said, impossibly calm amidst her constant movement. “I know how much you care for him, Mera. I care for him as well. But-”

Her heart screamed against the plan the vizier had laid out, screamed against the mental image of her best friend dying at the hands of a stranger. “Then why are we essentially plotting to kill him?”

“The boy we knew may very well have already died with his mother,” Vulko said gently. “He has fallen too far into his father’s influence since her execution – Orvax has made certain of that. The best we can do now is protect our kingdoms, even if that means one day placing Arthur on the throne that Orvax has taught Orm to never surrender. You know this, or else you wouldn’t be here.”

Mera stopped dead in her tracks, her shoulders slumping with defeat. “I know.”

“No,” Mera allowed quietly. “It wasn’t.”

He sighed. “Am I doing the right thing now? He’s in prison for a reason. If the Fishermen find out-”

“Hey.” Mera cut him off, squeezing his hand. “For all of his flaws, there is one thing about Orm that has never changed: He is loyal to Atlantis. He will do what is necessary to protect it, as will you. If breaking him out helps you do that, then it is the right thing to do.”

Arthur met her gaze, unease glittering in his eyes. “What about when I have to send him back afterwards?”

Mera shook her head helplessly. “You don’t have a choice.”

“He’s still my brother, however much I hate him,” he insisted. “He’s still your best friend. He’s still Mom’s kid. She thinks she can hide it, but we all know how much it kills her, leaving him in there. We all know what they’re doing to him. Sure, he deserves prison, but how is that the right thing?”

My best friend died with his mother.

The old mantra swam through her mind, the only thing that had eased her conscience as she plotted his downfall. It grated against her heart just as much now as it had on her first day working with Vulko, but it was as instinctive as breathing. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, Arthur. His imprisonment, however cruel, protects our people. We all know that as well. Including him.”

The corner of Arthur’s mouth lifted. “You do pay attention when Mom watches Star Trek.”

Mera huffed a tiny laugh, grateful for his ability to find humor in any situation. “Sometimes.”

Relaxing, Arthur leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I love you.”

She leaned into the kiss, welcoming every ounce of comfort he offered. “I love you, too.”

With renewed purpose in his strokes and one last squeeze of her hand, he hopped off her bed, heading off on his mission. She resettled as the guards returned to her side, determined to heal in case he needed her, but peace eluded her without her husband by her side. Grief and rattling boxes stalked her dreams, the sea carrying her tears away as her heart ached for the boy she used to know.

-----

He did need her, of course. Fortunately, her father was visiting her when Topo arrived with his message, and she hadn’t allowed him to leave her behind. Ignoring his protests and her lingering pain, she plunged into the wreckage of Devil’s Deep with Atlanna, racing into the chaos to rescue their husband and son. They split up when they found Arthur alone, Mera waiting outside the volcano with him while Atlanna went after Orm. She returned with him pinned to her side in a white-knuckled grip, and Mera’s breath caught in her throat, the remains of her burns twinging in empathy with his smoldering wounds. Swiping aside the debris still flying around them, tugging Arthur along with her, Mera led the way to the refuge of a nearby island.

Watching Atlanna help Orm out of the water and tend to his wounds, her well-worn mantra failed her.

Hardly conscious at first, he clung to his mother, irresistibly reminiscent of the way he used to cling to her when he was nervous at big events. Even as he regained enough strength to sit up on his own, he still seemed to huddle in her shelter, comfortable only in the safety of her arms, a comfort Atlanna was more than happy to give. She never let go of him except to get more seaweed, as attentive to him as she always had been when they were young, paying little attention to the conversation happening around them until Orm joined it. As much as their lives had changed since her sacrifice, their love for each other evidently hadn’t wavered in the slightest.

If that hadn’t changed, if his loyalty to Atlantis hadn’t changed, was it so impossible to believe that more of her best friend had survived the years than she and Vulko had assumed? Hope dared to glimmer in Mera’s heart. If my best friend died with his mother… can he be resurrected with her, too?

Her father’s words sliced through her thoughts. “Why is he even here?” he demanded. “He should be on his way back to prison.”

A wave crashed against the rocks behind him, punctuating his question, and she flinched from the spray. Why does it even matter? she asked herself. He’s going back regardless of what he does here.

“We should hear what he has to say,” Atlanna said, shifting slightly closer to Orm, her grip on his knee tightening, not quite able to hold the king’s gaze. Orm watched him out of the corner of his eye, successfully cowed by his anger, unable to defend himself.

Mera recognized those old reactions, remembering the tension that had always pulled taut between those two and Orvax, remembering the way they had always bowed to him in the end, no matter how much pride they had to swallow to do it. She hadn’t realized it then, but Atlanna had been walking the finest of lines, balancing shielding Orm from his father’s abuse with playing the subservient wife to protect her secret family, and Orm had always been caught in the middle, his mother’s child and his father’s pawn. They were performing that dance again now, the two of them against the world, just vying for a little bit more time together before more powerful forces tore them apart. Another part of their lives that hadn’t changed at all.

There’s still so much we cannot do.

“I made that mistake once,” her father retorted. “That’s why I know he can’t be trusted!”

He had a point. Orm’s silence spoke to that. Family or not, best friend or not, he had done terrible things to the surface and the undersea kingdoms alike, lying at every twist and turn and leaving a vast trail of destruction in his wake. A moment of vulnerability with his mother didn’t change that. He had upheld his end of the deal, fulfilling the service Arthur had broken him out to provide – it was time for him to return to his penance. The time he had already spent outside his cell had been a massive enough risk as it was, and every extra minute, every extra person who knew only increased the likelihood of the Fishermen discovering he had escaped.

“And he cut off my claw!” the Brine king added, waving the appendage around for emphasis. “This thing took a whole year to grow back.”

But it did grow back.

Maybe it was childish, maybe it was foolish, but didn’t he deserve a second chance? Not everything he had done was irreversible, and they were trying to forge a more forgiving Atlantis. They had all lost too much to archaic ideals and Orvax’s petty whims to follow the old ways, and Orm was trying to help. It was a second chance that could never go anywhere, but what he had done, he had done for Atlantis. He deserved this chance to protect the kingdom they loved from his own mistakes.

If that also gave Atlanna the chance to see her son again, to hold on to him for as long as she could… Mera linked her leg more securely around Arthur’s, her stomach churning at the mere thought of anyone taking Junior away from her, of knowing that he was in pain every day and never being able to ease it. I would do the same in her place. Who am I to take this chance away from them?

Her voice died in her throat, logic caving to emotion. She couldn’t say a word to support her father, and Arthur took it a step further.“Look, he wants to stop Manta, same as we do,” he broke in, looking defiantly at the two senior rulers, as if daring them to argue with the one true king. “And just for the record, the only reason we made it this far is because of him.”

Atlanna smiled beneath watery eyes at her older son, silent gratitude for the defense. Orm stared at his brother, Mera’s own surprise reflected in his eyes. No one could say that her husband was known for his tact, but for him to so boldly stand up against the two kings who had just saved his life, entangling themselves and their soldiers in a situation that could start a war in the process, and in support of the brother he hated, no less? It was a new level of daring, even for him.

No. You don’t hate him anymore, do you?

Arthur leaned forward, giving Orm his full, undivided attention. Taking his cue from his brother but still uncertain, he directed his next words only to their mother. “I saw the Lost Kingdom.”

Atlanna stared incredulously, not quite committing to a definite answer when Arthur asked her if that was possible, carefully phrasing his question to place the uncertainty on his own lack of knowledge rather than any doubt that Orm spoke the truth. Even when her father questioned him, even when Orm recounted a story no one had known for centuries, Arthur’s attention never wavered. He believed his brother. He trusted him. Enough that Orm picked up on it, gaining confidence even as he carried on explaining something impossible beneath her father’s withering stare.

Something has changed between you two.

It had been hard to miss Arthur’s concern when he told Atlanna that Orm was still trapped in the volcano, and Orm’s relief when they stumbled out of the water together, but she had chalked it up to the heat of the moment, to Arthur’s innate instinct to protect and Orm naturally being glad to be alive and reunited with his mother. Yet when Arthur decided it was time to go and stood up, he ignored the lingering wobble in his step to go to his brother, and Orm actually took the hand he offered, rising with his help as much as Atlanna’s. The heat of the moment was long gone, but the care remained.

They’re beginning to love each other, she realized, stunned. Part of her had hoped for this once, when they were young and Orm was still his old self when he was out of his father’s sight, hoped that maybe the stranger Vulko put so much faith in could learn to love him enough to save him. She had caught a glimpse of that long dead dream when Arthur spared him, but this… He’s forgiving him. Truly, genuinely forgiving him. And if Arthur can forgive him…

“Don’t get reattached.”

Her father spoke so only she could hear, joining her as the others walked away. She rose to meet him, matching his volume – though, she suspected, for entirely different reasons. “My husband trusts him,” she said, emboldened by their unity. “That is enough for me.”

“Arthur is blinded by familial connection,” her father said.

“Please,” Mera scoffed. “Two days ago, Arthur hated him more than anyone. If anyone here is blinded by familial connection, it’s you.”

He bristled, anger etched into the lines on his face. “He is not my family.”

“Yes, he is,” Mera hissed. “Don’t deny it. Not to me. I saw the look in your eyes when your spies informed us where he was being held. I remember how you loved the boy who welcomed me into his home when you and Mother left for the front lines. He was meant to be your son-in-law, and there was a time when that meant something to you. It still must, because you wouldn’t still be this furious at him if you didn’t care. You are taking this far more personally than Arthur ever has.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she swept on. “Orm has suffered for what he did, Father. He has suffered more in the last four years than most people will in a lifetime, and his only reward at the end of this is to return to that death sentence. Yet here he is, helping us however he can. If our kingdoms survive this, if your grandson still has a world to grow up in next week, then it will be in no small part due to his aid. He wants to fix the mistake he made by bringing Manta into our world. Arthur and I are not the blind ones for trying to see that good in him despite all he’s done. You are blind because you refuse to see it at all.”

His stance only hardened, his fists clenching at his side. Mera spun on her heel and marched after her family, holding her head high even as a not-so-tiny voice in the back of her mind wondered if she was placing too much faith in the man who had very nearly succeeded in killing her and Arthur.

It matters to me. It matters to me if my best friend is still beneath the armor.

-----

Her home was burning.

Mera screamed into the night, terror and agony and rage like she had never known tearing out of her throat. If she had been in the water, the ocean would’ve been roiling around her. She staggered away from the flames, away from the porch where she had sung to her son and told him about life in the ocean, closer to the shallows where she had given birth and heard his first cries. Months of memories flashed before her eyes, more precious than she had ever known was possible, and she could feel every single one of them slipping through her fingers like sand leaking out of a shattered hourglass. She was a daughter of Xebel, a queen of Atlantis, one of the most feared warriors in all the kingdoms, and she had let Manta take her son. What had been a fleeting fear on the island had suddenly become her reality.

The man willing to destroy the world just to kill her family had her baby.

“Mera.”

She screwed her eyes shut. The agony made her weak, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her, and the terror made her panic, her empty hands shaking. She couldn’t focus on those emotions. Clenching her fists, sucking in ragged breaths, she imagined tearing every drop of water and blood out of Manta’s body. She imagined making him scream as her son must have screamed when he was ripped away from his grandfather. “I’m going to kill him,” she snarled.

A hand grabbed her arm, not painfully, but far too roughly to be Arthur or Atlanna. “Mera.”

She whipped around, yanking her arm from Orm’s grip. “Where is he?” she demanded. “Where would he take Junior?

“I don’t know,” Orm said, his voice, his entire demeanor steady. Infuriatingly steady. “You need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” she repeated, fury teetering dangerously on hysteria. “That man took my son. Do you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“No.” His voice dipped. “I don’t.”

“Of course not,” Mera snapped. “If you did, you wouldn’t ask-”

“Yes, I would,” Orm interrupted, “because I do not care what you’re feeling. You need to keep your wits about you.” He paused, glancing at the trio on the ground, Atlanna trying to soothe Arthur and care for Tom at the same time. “I don’t know much about family, but I do know that Junior will need you alive at the end of this.”

Her breath hitched, anger cracking in the face of a hope she hardly dared to consider. “You think…”

“I do.”

He almost sounds… gentle again.

Almost. There was a roughness to it, an edge he might not know how to shake after so many years following in his father’s harsh footsteps, but… it almost sounded familiar. It almost sounded like…

Hesitantly, he laid his fingertips on her arm, a featherlight touch that was suddenly her only anchor in the smoky night. “You will get him back, Mera. And when you do… a child needs their mother.”

The words plunged her back through the years. Back to her early days in the Atlantean palace, when Atlanna first took her under her wing and Orm had been her only friend in the kingdom. To when her father broke the news that her mother had been killed in battle and Orm was the first person she swam to for comfort. To when Orvax sacrificed Atlanna and their roles reversed in an instant, with Mera being the only person in the world that he could be open with about grieving for the mother everyone else called a traitor. Back to all the broken years after that, Orvax’s influence poisoning the sweet and silly boy she loved, until Mera had no choice but to turn against the villain he became.

“You cannot be reckless,” Orm said quietly. “You need to calm down.”

Not a day went by when she didn’t miss her mother, when she didn’t lament the lifetime of victories and milestones she had never seen. Atlanna’s execution had cut her like a trident to the heart, too, alongside turning Arthur against Atlantis and destroying Orm in every way imaginable. Arthur and their family would never let Junior face what he and Orm had gone through, but… No. I cannot let him grow up grieving. Not like we did. I need to survive this, too.

Slowly, in stuttering movements, she forced her fists to open. The anger began to dissipate. In its place, the terror and agony flooded in, her knees weakening and her hands shaking again, longing to hold her son. Tears welled in her eyes, stinging far more than the smoke and heat, and she grabbed the closest support she could find.

She grabbed Orm’s hand.

He twitched in her grip, startled. Inwardly, she cringed, realizing what she had just done. But she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t make herself let go. Desperate for any shred of comfort, aching for the days when Orm had always been the one to give it to her, she only clutched his hand harder. He dropped his gaze to the contact, and for a moment she feared he would pull away, that he would let go and abandon her amidst the wreckage.

He didn’t.

He held her gingerly, but he did hold her. He left their hands hanging in the air between them, letting her hold on for as long as she needed. Letting her hold on until her father arrived and she could fall into his arms, their fingers catching as she let go, almost reluctant to make the trade. It was more than she had thought she could ever ask for again. For now… it was enough.

She looked back at him, hovering near his family, consulting with the medics while Arthur and Atlanna held Tom. Maybe my best friend is still here.

-----

Mera gathered Junior into her arms, choking down a sob, his tiny coos the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. I will never let go of you again. She backed up to Arthur and Shin, twisting to shield him from Manta, glaring at the villain as he took his broken helmet off. Arthur touched her back, nudging her towards the door. “Go,” he ordered.

In any other battle, Mera would’ve resisted. She would’ve stayed to fight beside her husband, taking her vengeance, defending the kingdom they had both sworn to protect. Today, though, she didn’t hesitate to obey. Orm had been right – killing him didn’t matter. Only her son did. With Junior against her chest and Shin running ahead of her, she bolted for the exit, listening to the sounds of a scuffle behind her. Running footsteps. Arthur grunting. Bodies hitting the ground.

A trident hurtling through the air.

She whirled around, hair flying. Her eyes widened. It hurtled straight at her, deadly points aimed true at her head, already too close. She couldn’t dodge. She couldn’t summon a wave of water and ice to strike it aside. She could only watch it come, leaning back in a last-ditch effort to keep it from hitting Junior.

A shadow raced into the room, skidding to a halt beside her. The loud clang of metal on metal shuddered through her. The trident stopped dead in its tracks, inches from her face. Her eyes slipped to the side, landing on her savior.

Her gaze landed on Orm.

She had given him a chance. A chance to redeem himself, to fight for what was right, to simply see his mother again and get to know his brother before surrendering himself to his death sentence. She had given him a chance, and now, with his outstretched fist clutching the trident, he was repaying the favor. He was giving her the chance to live, to see her son grow up, to live the happy life he would never know.

He was protecting Junior from the heartbreak that had darkened her childhood and ruined his life.

“Mera,” he rasped. The trident lit up, that ominous green glow spreading out from his fist, reaching towards her and Junior. His entire body beginning to shake, his face twisting in pain and fear, Orm forced out a single word. “Run.”

Please don’t let this be the end.

She wanted to thank him. She wanted to stay with him. She didn’t want to leave him to fight this without her, like she had so many times when she had let the Fishermen take him, when she had schemed with Vulko, when she had gone home to Xebel and her father’s arms and left Orm alone with a tyrant who never loved him. She was an adult now, a queen with all the power they had never had as children, and she still wanted to do a million things they didn’t have time for, and a million more that the baby in her arms made impossible.

All she could do was take the chance and flee, an explosion of magic and her best friend’s screams following her out of the room.

-----

“They’re safe,” Mera whispered to Junior as Storm rocketed out of the churning water, Arthur and Orm on his back. “They’re…” She trailed off, swallowing. “Your dad is safe.”

As is your uncle.

The seahorse bucked as he arced downwards, propelling them towards the iceberg her father had dropped her and Shin on. Arthur didn’t miss a beat, kissing her exuberantly and bending to check on Junior, but Orm landed clumsily, panting, exhausted from whatever had transpired after she fled, from the wounds she knew all too well hadn’t yet fully healed. Aside from returning the trident her father had lost in the battle, the two of them exchanging a significant look as he handed it over, he hung back, separating himself from the reunions.

For now.

She thanked Shin with a kiss on the cheek and smiled at the Brine king and her father’s banter, but her thoughts stayed with Orm. Arthur stepped away from her, joining his brother, and Orm only greeted him with a nod, resigned acceptance in the set of his jaw. Mera busied herself with Junior, dreading the inevitable. Dreading Arthur confirming that there was no more stalling, that her brief reunion with her best friend was over, and she would never see him again.

“As far as I’m concerned, your debt is paid.”

What?

Arthur’s words drew everyone’s attention like a magnet. Mera’s head snapped up. Her father gripped his freshly returned trident tightly, bracing himself. The Brine king stopped complaining about his claw, and Shin shifted, unaware of the stakes but sensing that something significant was happening. Orm’s eyes widened, resignation transforming into disbelief, into something that couldn’t quite be called hope. “Not everybody’s gonna see it that way, though.”

You’re actually-

She cut herself off, waiting with bated breath as Arthur glanced at her father. He looked around, catching her eye. Please, she urged with a pleading gaze. See the good in him. It’s still there. He’s still there.

Looking back at Arthur, he said nothing, simply not objecting to his silent question. It was enough. Shoulders loosening, Arthur continued, “It’s too bad you went and got yourself killed back there.”

We are. I love you, Arthur Curry.

Before anyone could change their minds, Mera jumped in to back him up, to offer Orm a new chance that could go somewhere. “Yes,” she added, nodding at the endless expanse of ocean and shattered ice surrounding them. “With all this ice…” A grin broke across her face – the same grin she had once given him every time she had an idea that would get them into trouble. “It would be impossible to find the body.”

Orm stared back and forth between them, stunned, baffled, struggling to process what they were saying as Arthur told him to lay low and stay close. She couldn’t blame him ��� even she could hardly believe it. After so many years of trading Orm’s life for Atlantis’s security, Arthur had finally found a solution that protected both. Nothing quite made it sink in until her father nodded at Orm, confirming that he would go along with the lie, a hint of his old fondness softening his features. “Thank you,” he said, his tension easing, “brother.”

Arthur offered his hand, and as Orm took it, Mera looked at her son. You will get to know your uncle after all.

A weight lifted off of Mera’s shoulders. A weight she had grown so used to carrying that the guilt had become part of her, a weight that had crushed a part of her soul that she had kept locked away until now, when she could straighten up and look forward to a bright future with her whole family. Her best friend was back – scarred and changed, yes, but back, rescued from the ashes of his father’s destruction by his mother’s love and his brother’s forgiveness. He had fought for them, comforted her, and saved her and the little boy she loved more than anything. It was all the proof she had ever needed, and he wasn’t going to die alone in prison.

But his return came with a goodbye.

“Wait.”

He paused before he could jump off the iceberg, turning back to her, and now there was true hope in his eyes. She closed the distance between them, snow crunching beneath her feet, and stretched up to kiss his cheek, too. The last time I did that, you were still shorter than me. “Thank you.”

Junior babbled a happy agreement, and for the first time in their lives, Orm smiled at his nephew. “It was the least I could do.” Sobering, he met her gaze. “I’m sorry, Mera. For everything.”

The apology bled with history, with the regret of a lifetime of wrongs and agonizing choices that had driven them apart, but Mera only cared about the genuine step forward he was taking. “I know,” she said, more relieved than she could ever put into words to take the step with him. “Me, too.”

Shoulders slumping slightly, he let himself lean against her, just as he had before he learned how to hide his exhaustion at long formal events. Mera dug her heel into the ice, sharing his weight gladly, embracing the return of the trust she had lost long ago. “You know more about family than you think,” she murmured. “Don’t forget that again, silly.”

Unused for so long, the old nickname simultaneously caught in her throat and rolled off her tongue, strange and familiar all at once. He smiled at it, a tiny, nostalgic upturn of his lips. “I won’t,” he promised.

They lingered for a moment more, savoring the ability to be together again, with no more lies and bitterness dividing them. The locked box she had harbored for so long melted away in the comfort of his presence, a memory to be left in the past, unnecessary in the light of a path forward. “Go on, then,” she said eventually, finding the strength to let him go in the knowledge that they would reunite again soon. “Be safe.”

Devoid of the chill of the false politeness they had used as armor for years, the words warmed the air around them, and she pressed a little harder against his arm when he returned the sentiment just as sincerely. “You, too.”

Pushing off her shoulder, he turned and leaped into the ocean. Mentally, Mera started running through cover stories, mapping out when they could begin pushing the Fishermen for an updated treaty. Arthur stepped up to her side, wrapping his arm around her, and together they watched his brother disappear into the waves, swimming towards his freedom. Swimming, she assumed, to once again find safety in their mother’s arms.

This time, no one will tear us apart, she vowed. I won’t let them.

-----

Mera landed lightly on the end of the dock, spring sunshine warm on her skin. Tucking the tablet she had brought under her arm, she strode towards the lighthouse, searching for one landbound family member in particular. Following the sound of his voice, she found him sitting in his chair on the porch with Junior, uncle and nephew equally content as he read Pinocchio with more awkward versions of the ridiculous voices Arthur used, Nemo curled up at his feet. Mera couldn’t help but pause, enjoying the precious sight that had become commonplace, yet never seemed to lose its novelty.

Nemo interrupted the moment, pricking his ears and trotting over to her with a happy bark. Orm broke off when he caught her looking. “Look who’s here, Junior,” he said, closing the book while Mera scratched Nemo’s back.

Junior’s disappointment vanished the second he saw her. “Mama!” he exclaimed, reaching for her eagerly.

Beaming, Mera joined them in the shade, trading the tablet for her son. “Hello, sweetheart,” she greeted, kissing his forehead. Even all these months after his kidnapping, holding him felt like a miracle, his weight a comfort in her arms. “Were you having fun with Uncle Orm?”

He answered with an enthusiastic string of noises that she took as a yes. “That’s g- Wait.” Amongst the adorable nonsense, she swore she caught a word. “Did he say Ormy?”

“Unfortunately,” Orm muttered. Nemo pressed against his legs, wagging his tail. “I’m going to kill Arthur.”

The front door opened as she laughed. “Mera!” Tom said, sweeping her into a hug. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“We finished early. A first in diplomatic negotiations with the Fishermen,” she said wryly. Tom chuckled. Orm stiffened, glancing from her to the tablet. “We didn’t want to all rush off as if we had somewhere to be, so Arthur and Atlanna stayed behind for the celebrations. I got to come share the news.”

“Ah,” Tom said. “In that case, why don’t we give the two of you some privacy?”

Kissing him again, promising to see him soon, Mera passed Junior to his grandfather. As they stepped inside, Nemo following on Tom’s heels, she took a seat on the end of the couch beside Orm. “Atlanna sends her love.”

“She always does,” he said fondly, though his attention was clearly elsewhere. He handed the tablet back. “An early ending seems like a good sign.”

“It is,” she said. Fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, he leaned forward, watching her power up the tablet and open the notes she had taken. Tilting it so he could see, she scrolled to the section that concerned him. “As soon as the new treaty goes into effect, peace between Atlantis and the Fishermen Kingdom no longer hinges upon your imprisonment.”

She let him take the tablet, holding it delicately, as if the slightest wrong move would erase the words on the screen, destroying everything they promised. He read them again and again, seconds stretching into minutes as he took it in. Mera waited patiently – they had time. When he finally spoke again, his voice cracked with emotion, with joy and anxiety and everything in between. “I can go home.”

“Not yet,” Mera cautioned. “They were furious that Arthur broke you out to participate in the battle, and it took a great deal of care to remove this without raising further suspicion, since we brought no proof of your death. We still have to be careful that your return doesn’t make it appear as if we’ve been harboring you since the battle.” Unwilling to leave it on a pessimistic note, she finished, “It won’t be long, though, with this signed.”

Orm set the tablet down, his eyes drifting to the ocean, aching for the tantalizing freedom still just out of reach. Mera laid her hand over his. “Atlantis isn’t your only home anymore,” she reminded him.

He took her hand, holding tight. “I know,” he murmured. “I still miss it.”

“It hasn’t been the same without you,” she said, meaning every word. She had been looking at all of their old haunts and hiding spots with new eyes lately, looking forward to when he could fill the empty spaces with her again, to when he could help her tell their stories to their family and show Junior all the best parts of growing up in the palace. “I can’t wait to see the look on the Fishermen queen’s face when you come back.”

His laugh didn’t reach his eyes. “I understand why she did it. I certainly sent people there for less.”

“We all understand why she did it,” Mera said, running her thumb over his knuckles. “That doesn’t mean you deserved it.”

“I did,” he whispered, leaving his mouth open as if he meant to continue, but no words came out.

“No, you didn’t,” she said firmly in his silence. “And even if you had, you’ve more than atoned for your mistakes since then. You deserve to go home.”

He drew in his legs, massaging the knee that had never quite healed after his years of torture. She didn’t press him further, letting her touch speak for itself. Finally, he asked, “What if the people don’t accept my return?”

“I don’t care.” She cupped his cheek, guiding his gaze to hers. “You are family, and you belong with us, whether we’re here or in Atlantis. We will bring you home, and if anyone has a problem with that, we will fight for you. All right? We haven’t come this far to give up now. We love you, Orm. I love you. Your homecoming may not be an easy path, but it is a path I will make sure you can walk.”

He weighed the speech, searching for the “but,” for yet another one of the caveats that had shadowed his entire life. “All right,” he said at long last, tilting into her touch without protest, accepting the reassurance. “Thank you.”

“It’s what best friends do,” she said. It’s what I waited too many years to do. Nudging his good knee with her own to take any bite out of her words, she added playfully, “Don’t make me regret it.”

He gave her a small smile. “I don’t know. If Arthur makes me sit in on any debates between your father and the Brine king…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “There’s always a good prank to play on him when he inevitably falls asleep. It’s far more entertaining than it used to be. Besides,” she continued mischievously, “I suspect he’ll hardly have a chance to rope you into anything before you come back up here to see Stephen the first chance you get.”

He shook her off, tugging his hand away, clearing his throat as his cheeks reddened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you don’t,” she teased. “That’s why you’re looking at anything but me. Tell me, how many times has he texted you today?”

The door swung open again, Tom reemerging holding a case of beer as well as Junior. “So,” he said, “are we drowning our sorrows or celebrating?”

Visibly grateful for the interruption, Orm took the beer from him, focusing far too intently on freeing three bottles. “Celebrating.”

Tom grinned softly, giving Junior to Mera and taking the bottles that Orm handed him, giving her the other once she had Junior settled. “That’s great news, son.” Popping the cap off and sitting on Mera’s other side, he held it out. “To the future.”

Relaxing in a way he never had around his first father, Orm clinked their bottles together. Mera added hers to her in-laws’ toast, the sound pleasant and promising above the gentle crashing of the waves against the shore. As much as she had appreciated keeping secrets for Orm instead of from him, protecting him instead of betraying him, she was more than ready for this era of their lives to end once and for all. Soon, her months of leading the negotiations would come to fruition, and nothing would stand between him and being a fully-fledged member of the family both above and below the surface. They would both, at long last, have everything they had ever dreamed of and more – perhaps not in ways they had ever envisioned, but they would have it together.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

“To the future,” they echoed.

[alisienna]

Rating: Mature

Tags: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s); Astarion/Tav (Baldur's Gate); Baldur's Gate 3 Spoilers; Vampire Spawn Astarion (Baldur's Gate); Elf Tav (Baldur's Gate); Dragonblood Sorcerer Origin; Banter; Flirting; Slow Romance; Eventual Smut; Alcohol; Abuse/Alcoholism; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD; CPTSD; Trauma; Childhood Trauma; Past Sexual Abuse; Emotional/Psychological Abuse; Past Abuse; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

"What do you need?”

“What?”

“What do you need?” Tabriel repeated. She waved her hand up and down towards him. “Clearly animals aren’t cutting it.”

“No,” Astarion agreed slowly. “If you could trust me, just a little bit further… If I could have a little of your blood, I could think clearer, fight better.” He chanced a small step forward. “Just a taste, I swear.”

Tabriel didn’t move back, allowing him to approach. “Okay.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I trust you. Not a drop more than you need, though.”

The small smile widened. “I…of course, not one drop more.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s make ourselves more comfortable, shall we?” He gestured towards her bedroll.

Tabriel’s eyes narrowed at the return of his normal flirtatious lilt, but she sensed an undercurrent of nervous energy beneath the rakish façade. That was fine, she thought. She wouldn’t begrudge him some nerves; this was a huge risk for both of them.

[neuroweird]

What Comes Next

Fandom: The Last of Us (part 1&2)

Timeline: post-TLOU2

Word Count: 1.9k

Content Considérations: TLOU2 spoilers, mentions of weight, mentions of injury.

Description: Quick Character Study following Ellie returning to Jackson after the events in Santa Barbara. She is a shell of herself, but her perspective has shifted, and she has no expectations of what the future holds now. But she will have one.

[gloopdimension]

[yeehawpim]

a comic about fix-it fanfics

[i-will-write]

[monsoon-of-art]

[airlocksandaviaries]

2 genres of fanfiction:

1) put that guy into situations

2) take that guy OUT of situations for the love of GOD let them REST 

[valentinos-pimp]

Based on one of the funniest scenes from @prince-liest’s fanfic series 666: Live on Air!

[pixiemage]

Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.

Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.

RIP decency indeed.

[sanguinarysanguinity]

Expanding a thought from a conversation this morning:

In general, I think "Is X out-of-character?" is not a terribly useful question for a writer. It shuts down possibility, and interesting directions you could take a character.

A better question, I believe, is "What would it take for Character to do X?" What extremity would she find herself in, where X starts to look like a good idea? What loyalties or fears leave him with X as his only option? THAT'S where a potentially interesting story lies.

In practice, I find that you can often justify much more from a character than you initially dreamed you could: some of my best stories come from "What might drive Character to do [thing he would never do]?" As long as you make it clear to the reader what the hell pushed your character to this point, you've got the seed of a compelling story on your hands.

[dawnsedits]

No Need to Ask, I Got You

Rosa needs to check on Billy, and Billy needs to talk about what just happened, so she pulls him aside for a private moment.

Shazam 2 spoilers ahead!

Rosa & Billy ~ 1.2k ~ AO3

Rosa couldn’t take her eyes off of him, off of Billy, covered in dust but alive, giving his siblings their powers back, laughing like the sun had never stopped shining. She hung on Victor’s arm, clinging to his sleeve as if the touch of fabric could wipe away the memory of Billy’s cooling skin, of his lifeless body after she’d asked Victor, who had carried him here, to let her hold him one last time. Because that’s all it was now – a memory. The lightning hadn’t taken him and the dirt hadn’t buried him forever. He was safe. She could see that.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet, not- not like this. This version of him wasn’t the one she needed to see.

She pulled away from Victor. “Billy,” she called.

He looked up, and her heart skipped into her throat just at that simple action, when so recently he hadn’t responded to her cries at all. “Yeah?”

“Can we-” She gestured behind her. “Can we have a moment?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Um- here.”

He gave the wizard the staff and followed her inside, into some peace and quiet, and she picked a place where the roof had collapsed long ago. “Can you, um… what- what’s the word, Shazam? Can you do that?”

He nodded, and in a flash of lightning, there he was. Her Billy, clean now, his skin unburned, looking at her with a little confusion and a lot of love, a far cry from the corpse that had driven her to her knees. “Oh, my baby,” she rasped, sweeping him into a hug, a hug she had feared she would never be able to give him again. She buried her fingers in his hair, in the haircut she had helped him pick out, reveling at how warm he was in her arms. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Me too,” he said, and he almost sounded cheerful. He almost sounded like the happy kid he had been in front of the others, the one who was cracking jokes and playing around and acting like he hadn’t just come back from the dead.

She knew him better than that.

Rosa pulled back, staying close but letting herself look him over. “Are you ok?”

 That’s a silly question. Of course he’s not.

Not even halfway through the thought, though, he was already insisting that he was. “Yeah, of course. I mean, look at me, I’m healed! I’m fine, Ro- Mom. I’m fine.”

Rosa shook her head. “No, you’re not.”

He put on a good show of looking confused and innocent, like he always had, but Rosa recognized the darting of his eyes, looking for escape. “What do you mean? I’m fine, really-”

“Billy.”

She said it softly, careful not to sound stern, and it was more than enough to stop him in his tracks, tears he was clearly fighting back beginning to well in his eyes. She reached for him, cradling his cheeks, ready to catch them when they fell. “It’s just you and me, baby. Let me see you.”

“I was-” He swallowed, his lip trembling, and when he spoke again she almost couldn’t hear him. “I was so scared.”

“Of course you were, Billy,” she murmured, her own eyes beginning to water. So was I. “You did something most adults aren’t brave enough to do.”

“I didn’t even have time to feel brave,” he rasped. “I was just trying not to get killed early, and when it was time it was- it was so hot and so bright, and then… then it wasn’t.”

 I missed you guys.

Rosa stiffened, tightening her grip on him before she could control herself. “Billy, you don’t… you don’t remember being-” The word caught in her throat. “You remember it?”

“I…” He sniffed, dropping his gaze, and the first tear fell, splashing onto her thumb. “I don’t know, exactly. But it… it was so dark. I was so cold. And I think I was screaming, because something hurt so bad, but no one was there. And then I woke up and it was still dark and I couldn’t breathe and I thought-”

His voice broke, breaking down into a sob, and he dove into another hug, burying his face in her shoulder and clinging to her like a lifeline. Oh, Billy. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing the top of his head, swaying gently as she rubbed his back. “It’s ok now, baby,” she soothed. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“I said it was like two minutes,” he choked out between sobs. “But it felt like so much longer.”

Rosa closed her eyes, giving herself a moment to agree with him, to remember how long she had seemed to kneel in the field, hugging Darla and being hugged by Mary as they cried, mourning the son and brother they had only had for three years. She didn’t even know what time it was now, but she knew this had been the longest night of her life – and she could hardly imagine what Billy had gone through.

She gave herself a mental shake and pulled back a bit, just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s over now,” she said, tipping his chin up. “The sun is shining, I’m right here, and as soon as we get to a hotel, I will be wrapping you up in so many blankets you won’t even remember what cold feels like. Ok?”

He let out a weak little laugh, the sound music to her ears. “Can we get Mr. S first?”

“You really want your stuffed dragon right now?”

“You won him for me,” he mumbled. “I wanna make sure he’s ok.”

“Then of course we’ll go get him,” she said, smiling fondly, thanking Wonder Woman and every other god she knew of that death hadn’t taken this sweet, kind, wonderful boy away from her. “I love you, Billy.”

He leaned back into the hug, nestling his head on her shoulder. “I love you too, Mom.”

They stayed like that for a good while longer, Billy soaking in the hug, Rosa soaking in the words. Her life was full of children who came and went, and it always haunted her, the years she missed, the struggles she couldn’t help them with, and perhaps none more so than the years she’d missed with Billy. He had been through so much in his young life, more than he should’ve ever had to go through, and she hadn’t been there to love him or guide him through almost any of it.

But she was here now.

She was here to hold him until he was ready to go back to the others, and to help Mary distract the others when a question about the fight made him go pale. She was here to help him dig through the rubble for his dragon, and to make sure he got all the chicken nuggets he wanted from McDonald’s later. She was here to ask Victor to leave the bathroom light on that night so Billy didn’t have to, and she was here to watch him as he slept, unwilling to take her eyes off of him for a second, snuggling Mr. S and snuggled by Darla.

She was here, and he was alive. He wouldn’t go through this – or anything else – alone.

[live-from-flaturn]

"But you already wrote that trope."

[neuroweird]

LEAVING MARKS

PAIRINGS: Hekarro/Oseram OC  CONTENT: post-Horizon Forbidden West, Hekarro is a beast, physical fighting, reluctant allies, bloody kisses, fucking in the woods, extensive tattoos, bathing and mild body worship, breeding kink if you squint. WARNINGS: contextual violence, mentions of blood, sexuality RATING: explicit WORD COUNT: 9.2k DESCRIPTION: A bold outlander has snuck into Tenakth territory under cover of darkness, confident in her ability to acquire what she needs and make a quick departure. An accomplished warrior has stolen away from his stronghold, guided by moonlight toward what he intended to be a machine hunt. Neither gets what they came for, but what does come of their encounter will definitely leave a mark.

[redactedrem]

Headcanon where after so many arguments between the batkids and Bruce over his paranoia and complete disregard for his kids privacy, the entire family had compromised with (in the healthiest way possible) downloading life360 on their phones and that's how they all keep track of each other.

Now Bruce knew that this is mostly for his benefit and is supposed to be a healthy alternative for his unhealthy paranoia and helicopter parenting, but what he wasn't expecting was for his kids to start keeping track of him.

He's putting gas in his car and Dick calls him because apparently Dick has been watching him drive around on the app? And Bruce is currently at a gas station thats right around the corner from a Taco Bell and now Dick wants him to get food for everyone since he's already there.

He's driving home from a meeting and Steph calls him because her and Duke were shopping in the area and wants to know if he can pick them up, when he asks how she knew he was on the same street, he gets a "Oh I just like to stalk everyone on the app for funsies." as an answer.

Jason calls him and he can barely get out a hello before Jason cuts him off, "Bruce why the fuck is your phone battery on 5%, charge your damn phone" which completely stuns him because why does he know that. He clears his throat before answering. "Jason, what?"

"Everyone can see each others phone batteries on '360, now charge your phone." Is all he gets before Jason hangs up on him.