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eldritchaccident · 1 month

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Timing: Current Location: Darkling Lake Feat: @closingwaters & @eldritchaccident Warnings: Nothing in Particular from the list, but there is descriptions of a panic attack Summary: Lets go for a swim!

New England weather never ceased to amuse Theodore Jones. They didn’t know if they’d ever quite get used to it, but that was half the fun. On Tuesday it’d be snowing. Blustery bitter cold, enough to make a witch’s tit shivver. By Thursday it’d practically be tropical. All warm, sunny, and wonderful. The ex-demon was incredible grateful for the latter, and how the fates had seen fit to alleviate the gloom of early spring with the golden glow peeking through the bare branches above.

They were walking in the woods. Not something they did too often, but a task that was about as enjoyable as anything else. Teds liked nature. Maybe not as much as the nix they sought, but who besides the lovely fae and maybe a few really crunchy hippies could love it that much? Not many, Teddy thought. Still, seeing the woods like this was a welcome change to the fairly constant self imposed house arrest they’d been under. Too much shit going on, the least of which was the goo that had separated them from…

Teagan.

Such a sweet and lovely lass, ripped out of their life mere moments after being added to it. Teddy was tearing themself apart with guilt even after the nix was freed. Arden said she wasn’t dead, and they hardly believed it. She said the nix hadn’t suffered too much, that it was like a blink, and she was back. Tired, but back. Void below Teddy hoped that was the truth. Just about nothing in this world sounded more horrific than being in a stasis, unable to move, to speak, but still conscious of your surroundings the whole time.

In an attempt to chase away the wibbles and wobbles of anxiety and guilt, the ex-demon had brought snacks. A tin full of cookies and treats, a thermos full of hot cocoa. Extra marshmallows. Extra love. All homemade. Maybe it’d make up for the fact that they hadn’t been able to save her. Not when it happened, and not during the month she was trapped.

“Vala! Wait!” The kelpie brayed excitedly, continuing the fast swimming pace that the weak nix could not keep up with. It was a kind of training that Teagan hoped would help, but it seemed only set on frustrating her and damaging her already poor self-esteem. “Argh!” She halted frustratingly in her path, watching Vala continue without looking back, which was just as well. She was having fun, and that was what mattered to Teagan. It brought a smile to her face, albeit a weak one, but it was a smile all the same.

With a disheartened sigh, she made her way to the surface and took a peek. There was no one around as she scanned the area, taking a few extra moments to ensure no one was well-hidden in the brush. Teagan blinked once, twice, and then finally felt safe enough to find purchase on the silted ground of the shallow portion near shore. She stood there lamely, trying to gain her footing while her legs trembled with exhaustion.

Teagan tried to hold the tears back, truly, she did, but the stinging in her nose overwhelmed her and eyes leaked while a breath hitched in her throat. She slashed at the water, immediately apologizing to it just before making her way to a nearby boulder. The coolness of the stone helped calm her a little, but only for a breath.

When she caught sight of her tail, the pain of being too weak and useless caused the wave of frustration to mount over. She wanted to punch something, anything, even knowing it wasn’t the best idea with nothing soft around. Eventually, after rubbing her face and splashing her face with water, Teagan calmed, finding a spot to lay in where half her body rested in the lake and the other half remained on land.

Sleep grew heavy on her lids, head bopping to the side, but her determination to stay awake was still somehow winning. Catrin did always say she was the most stubborn one of all her babes, and the thought brought a sleepy smile to her face, but only for a second. The soft thump of a nearby footstep took Teagan’s attention, and she rolled to her feet as quickly as she could. Her bagged and tired eyes met with a familiar face. A smile grew into a bright grin, and she giggled as her energy was renewed.

“Teddy!” Her voice was hoarse, body swaying just slightly, but nonetheless, she made it to them and gave them a wet hug. “Oh, I’m so happy you’re visiting!”

Their heart swelled by the sight of the lake, and even more so when the nix rushed toward them. Teddy laughed, taking the sopping arms and scooping the fae up in a quick spin before nearly falling in the moss beside the lake, carefully placing the treats down so they could properly squeeze back. Almost like they were confirming that, yes, Teagan was still here. They were real, and safe. Despite everything.

“Hey there cuddle-fish, didn’t know I needed a second shower today.” Any sarcasm in their voice was fond, and the brightness of their smile only served to emphasize that fact. Ted, of course, probably would have done the same thing, rolls reversed. Still the warmer weather was once again, very appreciated.

“Do you like hot chocolate?” Eager, of course, to bring out the gifts. Always. Never visit without something to give, Teddy wasn’t sure where they picked that one up. Certainly wasn’t from Leviathan, whose presence was a present enough. Obviously. “What are your opinions on cookies, truffles, and macarons?”

Teagan couldn’t help but snort at the remark and nickname, only just then realizing she’d been far too wet to hug someone fully clothed. With a bashful smile and a scrunch of her nose, she backed away and clasped her hands behind her back, moving her weight front to back repeatedly. “Oh, please forgive me. I get overly excited at times. Turn into a bit of a scamp.” She bit her lip and winked, shaking her head and flicking water onto Teddy. They’d likely be a bit chilly considering the weather, but Teagan had a feeling they wouldn’t mind. Their playful nature matched one another’s.

“‘Course I like hot chocolate. It’s chocolate and it has sugar. Why? Do ya got some?” Her interest was piqued and she took a look behind Teddy to see they had brought some gifts. “Oh, my dear, you’re speaking sweet music to me. Love sweets, and you’ve chosen the kind full of luxury. Hm…” Teagan tapped on her chin and considered what the next option should be. The two of them were the same in nature based on their first interaction. It would only make sense to partake in the lake and then some treats.

“What do ya say we go for a swim and then warm ourselves with some of that hot choccy after?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Teddy beamed, taking the spritz with pride. “Cheeky little shit.” A rumble of laughter rolled through their chest. It was strange, with Teagan, there was this strange sense of closeness. Like they’d been best friends since childhood, they just somehow hadn’t figured it out yet. Teddy loved meeting people like that. Who didn’t seem to care if you spent a month apart, or a year. You could just pick right back up where you left off. Perhaps even more admirably in the fae, knowing all the trouble she’d been through in the meantime.

“Well good to know you have taste then, I was beginning to get a little worried.” They were not. But gently and lovingly messing around was a language Teddy was perhaps more fluid in than any other. And they knew quite a lot of fucking languages. “Well, the tin looks extra fancy. They’re all from scratch. Ain’t saying that’s not fancy, but y’know. Packaging helps.”

Teddy shifted uncomfortably, somehow they hadn’t the topic of swimming to come up. Hoping the cooler weather might quell some of the drive for that, but– It never had for them before. The ex-demon had gone diving off a damn iceberg before. Been swimming down in the depths where the waters were only ever warmed by thick columns of mineral smoke and thermal seeps. Their breath caught up in their throat.

“Ah y’know maybe not today. Been a bit– tired lately.”

Of course it was easy to fall into step in the dance of friendship with Teddy. They were kindred spirits, made evident on what ended up being the worst kind of day. But that didn’t matter right then, did it? Teddy was in front of her, and Teagan was free to live. None of it had been Teddy’s fault and there was no way she would place any blame on that sweet lad. After all, it was Teddy that had made sure to keep her as hydrated as they could.

It was Teddy that stepped up to the responsibility and let Arden know the news. And it was still Teddy that had made the trek to visit someone they had met only briefly and yet treated her like they were just catching up. “Oh come now, Teddy. None of that! We’ve got to get you in! And there’s nothing like a swim to get the energy going, eh? Come!” Teagan pulled Teddy with her as she burst toward the lake. She didn’t give them enough time to protest again, and in an instant, the two were surrounded by water.

Before words could be shared or explanations given, the cold waters of the lake rose to greet Teddy. Welcoming them into their depths, covering and cradling the one who once called the ocean their only true home. Instincts warred between two sides of the ex-demon. Drowner and drowned, a rush of air broke through the human’s resolve, blustering upward as they scrambled to catch the bubbles as if they could somehow shove them back in. A gasp for air was only met with icy water. Teddy’s vision swam while they sank. Their eyes weren’t built for this anymore. The surface became a dimly lit blob as the pressure built.

Teagan was still holding onto them, of course she was, it had barely been a second. Might have felt like an eternity to the one struggling to stay alive, but the pair had only just submerged. Teddy struggled against her grip, panic rising like the tide, an aggressive gnarling gnashing thing. Long limbs flailed in every direction, one hand broke the surface. They tried to remember what could bring them closer to it but found themselves floundering instead.

Luckily (perhaps not for her) their other hand found Teagan. The mop of wet hair tangled Teddy’s fingers and accidentally they gave a yank. They weren’t controlling their own actions, fear was. Certainly not behavior fitting one who’d been in the water all their life, but ones born of a war tearing up the inside of a creature newly formed. Not quite human enough, no longer demon at all. Lost.

Panic. Nothing but panic overtook Teddy, and it was unlike a water-dweller to do so. They never said they had certain requirements for what water they dove in, and they’d been so excited at the prospect of a swim together. It was confusing, to say the least, and painfully alarming, to say the most. Thankfully, Teagan didn’t need to breathe, and so the yank to her hair and the thrashing against the water didn’t phase her, besides the pain. But that hardly impeded her ability to keep them both afloat.

“Teddy, my dear, Ted—ah!” They gave Teagan’s hair hard enough tug to strain her neck. “Breathe.” Could they? She wondered for a split second before another tug tore her from her thoughts and pushed her to launch them both out of the water in a frenzy. The two landed on the cold shore with an unceremonious thud, silt running along their feet as the waves continued to run along the shore. “Okay, now breathe!” Urging Teddy with a few pats to their chest, Teagan paid close attention to her friend, careful to not cut them with her claws.

“Talk to me, dear. What’s doin’ ya a panic? What was that?” There was no frustration in her tone, nor was there anger. Only genuine concern and confusion. After all, Teagan saw the panic and fear consuming Teddy’s body, and considering they’d spoken of true forms and their love of water, she could only guess that something had changed or something very bad had happened to them. Either way, she wanted to help calm Teddy down and let them know that she was willing to help any way she could.

“What can I do? Do you want to go inside?”

Teddy and their mind sputtered. One dribbling the dregs of water out of their lungs, the other reeling through visions of what it still believed was happening. They were drowning. They drowned. They were dying, they were dead. Pain erupted from Ted’s chest. In reality from of strain from thick ragged heaves and coughs, but in their head it was the waves, the pressure. No longer the comparably safe and shallow lake, it was the ocean, the depths, the darkness. Even on land, Teddy thrashed. A series of screams finally able to escape between the hoary breaths they didn't realize they were taking.

A voice broke through, hazy and muffled at first, but persistent. It sounded like their past. It was their father's growing tone, repeating the chant that stripped them of their powers. It was every shitty kid in every shitty schoolyard or park, hurtling alienating insults like daggers. Then it was the one and only phrase Teddy ever remembered in their mother’s voice, the words she tried to command the Leviathan with. The ones she used to give Teddy up, condemning her baby to death so she could live forever. The voices shifted through a clip show of the ex-demon’s greatest failures. Until it began to open to a clearer tone. Until it was obvious that the real voice was a helpful one. That it was close. Warm. It was Teagan.

Their eyes had been open, but they finally blinked back to sight. To the surroundings of the clearing, to the worried axolotl, standing over them. On land. On land. On land. Teddy felt their body crumple, felt hot tears fill their eyes again. “I'm–sorry–” They croaked, they crushed themself against her lap, they sobbed. “I can't– I'm not– I'm sor– I'm sorry—”

—

“Teddy! Teddy.” The first call for their name was a little too harsh, wasn’t it? For someone so panicked and apologetic, the treatment needed to be a little gentler. Teagan watched their eyes open, and she saw the way horror and sorrow swam in them like the worst tidal wave imaginable. “No, no, lovely. Shh…” Carefully, she brought Teddy into her and let them do what they needed to feel any sort of relief. She let them do that for a while, their sobs catching Vala’s attention enough to bring her to the surface. She peeked around curiously, snorting loud enough for Teagan to hear.

The nix arched a brow and waved the kelpie over. She circled around and planted herself behind them, as if to both cover them from the elements and wrap them with a sense of safety. “Don’t mind Vala.” Teagan ran her clawed hand carefully through Teddy’s hair, trying to ease them into the realization that they weren’t alone. “She’s just a curious and concerned kelpie, and a mighty good friend.” In response, Vala placed her muzzle in Teagan’s lap, bringing a soft smile to her face. She looked around then, making sure their surroundings remained safe, but her attention quickly went back to Teddy, who was likely incredibly cold.

“Why don’t we get you inside? You’ll catch your death out here.”

Sensation seeped back in, prickles of pain in their fingertips spread outward and illuminated Teddy’s arms and legs. Each limb felt like an icicle, sharp and jagged, and far too brittle. There was warmth, but coming from the other. It felt like they were hollow. A vessel fit only to feel the stings of thousand mistakes that had led them wherever they were now. Still, they soaked it in. Teagan’s arms around them, the strange fae horse. The comfort. Lost and found.

Teddy wasn’t alone. Wasn’t lost to the waters without their father’s guidance, its power. It wasn’t the familiarity they were used to, the reliance. But she was there, she was holding them. Picking them up. Only just aware enough to parse the changes, Teddy realized they were being led off. Between the nix’s arms and the kelpie, they were steadied. She was pulling them toward a house not too far off the shores of the lake. There wasn’t much they could do to resist. Wasn’t much of a reason to try.

Any residual ache unfortunately passed along to the nix, but thankfully the majority of Teddy’s pain was mental. Spiritual. A deeper, more undefinable thing. One that had them only really coming to once they’d been sat down, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Their eyes finally met with Teagan’s. Their heart felt like an anchor.

“I’m—” Tears stained Teddy’s cheeks again. Fresh, hot, stinging. “–I’m just a… human now. I’m nothing– I don’t– I can’t go in the water Teagan. I can’t even go in the water without– I’m sorry. I can’t do it–I’m not– I can’t… ”

“Hey.”

Panic and fear were two fiends that could hardly be fended off alone. They wanted to latch and consume, digging and digging until their victim was a husk or their former self. It was a wretched experience that Teagan had had far too many times, and seeing Teddy become undone by those same demons made her legs wobble and her nose sting. She sniffled, biding herself a little time before her own tears mixed with her friend’s. Now wasn’t the time for that. Teddy needed someone to be strong, whether they’d admit it or not.

“Hey,” She said again, patting Vala to pause the trek indoors. “Human is enough. You’ll learn to swim again in time, learn to…to let the water consume you once more.” With a bit of hesitance, Teagan shuffled a bit closer to Teddy, mindful of her depleted strength. Vala obliged without request, huffing and nuzzling at Teagan. They were both in a safe place. “Taught Arden how to swim. She even plays with Vala sometimes.” She chuckled at the memory, eyes softening as she continued. “Kept the lake safe while I was gone. If she can do it, you can too. Because you will be okay again, and you are not lesser because you are changed.” Pressing her forehead to Teddy’s, Teagan raked a clawed hand through their curls once more, appreciating their existence.

“You’re not ready now, and that’s okay, too. Took me weeks to even step outside after my tail was taken. I can only imagine how difficult it is when everything is gone.” With a swallow, Teagan stepped back to get a good look at Teddy. Their stubble, their deep eyes, the wrinkles at each corner of their lips from the smiles and laughter they’d had, and then, finally, the scar on their face. Beautiful, to say the least. But appearances hardly mattered when it came to the content of one’s heart. Handsome or not, Teddy was still themself. They were still Teagan’s friend, and she was going to get them inside to a change of clothes, a warm blanket, and hot tea. That, she promised herself.

“Now, come.” She kissed their cheek, giving them a good and slow blink as she would with Alffi or Hobbes. “I’ll put the kettle on, and you can sift through my laundry to find something to change into.” Taking Teddy’s hand, Teagan let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, allowing it to become a shaky chuckle.

“You’re sopping.”

#wickedswriting #closingwaters #eldritchaccident

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howifeltabouthim · 2 years

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There is a good deal we don't know . . . But certainly we must neither be foolhardy nor give in to panic.

Katherine Arden, from Dead Voices

#stay calm and carry on #don't panic #don't give in #resolute #unknown #fear of the unknown #in the dark #foolhardy #stay strong #quotes #lit #words #excerpts #quote #literature #affirmation #katherine arden #dead voices #voice of reason

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closingwaters · 18 days

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TIMING: Current

SUMMARY: Someone pays Teagan a visit during the eclipse.

WARNINGS: References to Parental Death, Sibling Death, Child Death

“They look just like home.”

The voice startled Teagan out of her thoughts, the second batch of stones falling to the ground with a clang and several soft thuds. They were effectively ruined, but the thought barely had a chance to latch itself anywhere in Teagan’s mind. It was elsewhere, anyway. Tragedy had set in motion and derailed any train that attempted its trek to any crevice that led to a coherent notion. Her panic was nothing but a whistle and a shriek, a cry for help that went unanswered until the voice spoke again.

“You can hear me?”

It was as fluid as the river she once cared for and adored. Each word flowed effortlessly into the next. Her voice was velvety, wrapping around Teagan like a soft embrace. Did she dare turn around? She she dare let the illusion go sharp like the cold iron axe that left her headless? As much as Teagan tried to wade through what might be a cruel trick of her own mind, the voice took her attention wholly.

It was a beautiful melody that she had missed for decades. Captivating, as always, but now that Teagan’s past was a graveyard, it was haunting, too. Lingering in the air even after the last syllable had faded. And it had faded, hadn’t it? The Wye’s song had ceased with its nymph’s death, but somehow, some way, Teagan heard a new melody. Slowly, anxiously, she turned, eyes brimmed with tears widened until they made trails down her cheeks.

“Efa? Y-you…! How?!” Teagan backed into the counter, jostling all of her utensils as she frantically attempted to compose herself. She blinked once, then twice, and then again for good measure. Her sister was still there. “How is this possible? How…? You…” Words failed her, and that only added to the discomfort. She, like any fae, usually knew how to stitch words together into sentences. If that ever happened, some sort of physical approach was taken, but when Teagan instinctively went for a hug, there was nothing corporeal about Efa.

But only the undead see ghosts! How…? How?!

Teagan watched the room grow darker, as if to reflect the gloom clouding over her. Right. The eclipse. It must be that. It must be some sort—wait. There was no time. She had already wasted a minute or two on her distress. If her seeing Efa was, in fact, a cause of the eclipse, then there was no time to spare.

“Efa!” She closed the distance, hovering a hand over her sister’s cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m so sorry I didn’t save you or Sara, or Elis, or Bethan, or-or…” Teagan choked on the remaining names, falling to her knees and sobbing. How many times had she done that before, without her family? How long had she needed her big sister, who she was now older than? She became a babbling mess of apologies, unable to produce more than indecipherable sobs.

Efa knelt down and shook her head profusely, looking to the window and then back to Teagan. After how she’d seen her baby sister had lived, how the guilt twisted and gutted her into a shell of her former self, she desperately wanted to help her.

“Pup, come on. No more of that, okay? Mam needs you to let go. I need you to let go. We all do. We all love you. She loves you.” Efa pointed to a picture that Teagan had hung up. A selfie Arden had taken of the two of them on a particularly beautiful day. Efa had seen her sister’s girlfriend learn to wade water that afternoon, and she leaned her head forward to hover her forehead over Teagan’s.

“You’re on the right track. You’re changing, and that’s good, okay? Not gonny leave ya until you’re okay. I’ve never left ya. Never. And there’s not a lot of time but I’m asking you to keep trying. Stefan is talkin’ to Aeron and we’re gonny make this right. This family will be right again.” The rays of the sun began to creep dangerously into the kitchen, hastening Efa’s voice. “And you know what? I love you. Mam loves you. And Jac, Harri, Bethan, Elis, and Steffan. We’ve never stopped loving you. ‘Specially when you were lost. We understand, and it’s okay, and it will all be better. You just gotta keep trying. For us and for that lovely lass ya got.” She chuckled tearfully, knowing how important her next words were. “Definitely approve, ‘kay? She’s like a rocket and you’re her fire. Now light that fuse and keep soarin’ where you’re ‘sposed to. You got that, pup?”

Teagan nodded vehemently, smiling and sniffling as the warmest feeling she’d ever felt wrapped around her chest. “I love you all. I’ll do it, I promise. I’ll keep going.”

“Good,” Efa replied, sighing shakily as she became less and less opaque. “You won’t be able to see me, but I’ll be ‘round every now and then. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” Teagan said hastily, cupping Efa’s cheeks with a hover. It was all she could do now, and she found that the grief didn’t weigh as much anymore. She could breathe, even as Efa disappeared completely. “I won’t forget. I won’t.” She promised again, with a desperation to be bound to it.

Grief was relentless, and even after decades of having it linger with a violent rage, Teagan could feel it putrefying and roaring in the eerie darkness in her chest. It stayed there in the dark, unable to discern who or what crossed in the echoes. She lit it simmer and spill, burning anyone that would cross her path. But it was okay now, or at least, it was starting to be. The dark tunnel Teagan had been lost in for so long finally had a light.

She decided to follow it.

#wickedswriting #waving words #writings #a quiet thing #solo #teagan solo #parental death tw #sibling death tw #child death tw

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nervestatic · 9 months

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nothing makes a man so bold

Three days after he bites her, Astarion is struck with the realization that he doesn’t know the first gods-forsaken thing about Arden.

She’s sitting by the fire, innocuous, head bent over a cast-iron pan nestled amongst the coals as she pokes and prods at whatever it contains. Despite the closeness of their camp, every member of their ragtag little adventuring party tends towards isolation during the early hours of the evening. The moments of solitude on the road are few and far between, and Astarion himself is loathe to sacrifice those precious moments of privacy to spend even more time encumbered by the opinions of his companions.

So Arden sits alone. Her brow is furrowed, lips pursed in a pout as she glares at the offending contents of the pan. Strands of humidity-curled hair stick to the side of her face, blending in with the tattoo that covers the left side of her face, giving the half-elf the appearance of a mane of dark arcana, lifting from her warlock’s mark and forming a near-halo.

“Darling,” Astarion greets. Arden startles, wide eyes giving her the countenance of a frightened fawn. “There’s no need for such a panic, really, it’s just me.”

keep reading on ao3

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate oc #zack writes #baldur's gate fic

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sweetfirebird · 4 months

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A Little Wild

This is one of two prompts fills for Marianne who quoted A Suitable Consort as a suggestion:

“I think I would also prefer to do something wild—but not too much. Please and thank you.”

Content tags: passing reference to the very real attack on Mattin’s life in ASC. Spoilers for A Suitable Consort.

Mattin had learned his lesson about traveling through the capital, and not only made sure to inform his guards of his plans—and therefore inform Mil if he hadn’t already discussed his plans with his spouses-to-be that morning—but to now dress a little more discreetly.

Not that he had dressed loudly before, but he also hadn’t been known or recognizable before. That was he now was slightly worrying, although he was trying not to let that show around Mil or Arden. But removed his hair clasps and some of his jewelry before going out, if he remembered to, and planned to wear a hooded cloak until the weather warmed up too much to make it comfortable.

All of which was to say, he now took precautions and therefore it wasn’t his fault that he’d turned around after getting stuck in a particularly crowded section of the public market and been unable to find his guards. Or perhaps they couldn’t find him. He was dressed simpler now, and in a hood, probably did not stand out much from the others around him.

He stayed where he was, trying not to get jostled by distracted shoppers eager for the first fruits and vegetables of the spring, and all the goods now able to come downriver from the north with the winter snows, and then the thaw and resulting mud, all gone. He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t. The odds of someone who intended harm finding him when he happened to be alone were slim.

The odds of someone removing his guards in order to harm him, however, were unfortunately much higher.

Mattin considered standing on the nearest barrel he could to look over the market, or if that would attract too much attention and it would be better to slip away and return to the palace as quickly as possible. He didn’t get a chance to decide—a large figure in a black cloak and hood stepped in front of him.

His view and exit blocked, Mattin raised his head, only to stare at Arden in stunned surprise. His heart was still pounding with panic, but Mattin stared for another moment then frowned reflexively.

“You said you didn’t sneak out anymore.”

Arden, his head tilted down to keep the hood in place, gave him a hint of a smile. “I never said that.”

Mattin narrowed his eyes. “You let me believe it and that’s just as bad as a lie.”

“I suspect that is debatable,” Arden answered, unrepentant. “Anyway, it ended well, since I saw you. Speaking of things promised and agreed to,” his amused tone faded, “you promised to never go out without guards.”

Mattin nearly snapped his reply. “I have guards. They just seem to have gotten lost. I’ve been waiting for them to find me.”

“Sass,” Arden named him, not exactly placated, before giving the rest of the market behind Mattin a glance. “I see them. They’re looking for you.” If Mattin’s snappishness had amused Arden, that amusement did not last. Arden gave a nod, evidently to guards that must have spotted the king. Mattin did not envy those guards in that moment.

“The market was suddenly packed. None of us expected it,” Mattin excused them softly.

Arden’s expression didn’t change until he looked down at Mattin again. “If you won’t think of me, then think of what it would do to Mil if something happened to you.”

Mattin opened his mouth—although he had no argument against words that gutted him—then abruptly remembered Arden was in the market too, and if he had guards, Mattin didn’t see them.

“And if something happened to you?” he asked coolly, a perverse part of him enjoying Arden’s moment of surprise at being chastised. Then he wondered if it was more that Arden forgot that Mattin might worry over him too.

Or that anyone might. It was a brief thought but Mattin knew he was going to find himself sleepless over it at some point in the future. So he glanced around, not seeing that he and Arden had drawn any undue attention, then he darted forward to rest his cheek against Arden’s chest. At least he could feel leather beneath Arden’s vest and shirt. Arden had some protection.

Arden’s arms came around him, which was nice too.

“I was starting to worry,” Mattin admitted, although he hadn’t forgotten his point. “I’m glad you’re here. But why are you here?”

“Ah.” Arden said it like an embarrassed person might stumble over their answer. But Arden was rarely embarrassed about anything. “Cael is still recovering from her small illness. So are the members of the council who apparently shared their sickness with her. While I could be reading all the lovely research you did for me,” he paused when Mattin harrumphed loudly and pointedly, “I found myself with an afternoon off. And Mil said you were ‘off to do some tasks in town that please him,’ and I thought it might be a good way to spend a few free hours; seducing a pretty man I might happen to run into in the street.”

“So you snuck out,” Mattin said first without thinking, raising his head to regard Arden suspiciously. Then the rest of Arden’s words sent his mind whirling. “You what? What?”

He had no idea why this made Arden smile, but it was such a distracting smile that Mattin couldn’t think to protest when Arden stroked the side of his face. “Seduce a pretty man I happened to run into in the street,” he said, low and warm. “One who I believe I once heard speak longingly of such a thing.” His fingertip grazed Mattin’s parted lips. “Of course, if he was not amenable to being seduced, I thought I might take him shopping. I’ve never done that, spent money extravagantly like a fool in love. When I should have, there was no need.” Outguards only needed what they could carry. “Except for good food or a night in a comfortable bed, with a hot bath for him when he was sore or especially tired. Those things I could provide then. Now… jewels, sweets, books… I could drown you in them. Both of you. But you’d have to show me the way.”

As though Mattin had ever done such a thing either. He drifted forward, catching Arden’s finger to kiss it, then recalling himself and inching back with a burning hot face.

“I….” He had no clue what to say in response to any of that. He didn’t even know his own voice. “Arden?”

“Unless that’s too wild for you, dear heart?” Arden prompted gently after several seconds of Mattin gazing at him in confused wonder.

Mattin resisted darting guilty looks around them to focus on Arden, who seemed patient and still on the surface like a palace fountain frozen in the winter. But his gaze was another matter.

Allowing Arden to escort him through the market was the logical answer, the simplest and by far the least embarrassing, or potentially embarrassing.

“Too wild?” Mattin asked instead of whatever he ought to have asked while his hand strayed up to Arden’s collar and then to his throat to find warm skin.

Arden flashed a smile. “You did say you wanted to be ‘a little wild’ once, unless I heard you wrong.”

Mattin’s face was surely colors of red never seen outside of a sunset. He kept his gaze firmly on Arden and hoped his hood would preserve some of his dignity. He bit his lip and pretended to consider, even though Arden must know what Mattin wanted, since he took Mattin’s hand from his neck to press kisses to Mattin’s knuckles.

“What would…” Mattin lowered his voice even more “…seducing me entail exactly? Nothing too public?” Mattin was alarmingly breathless at the possibility.

“Mattin Arlylian,” Arden leaned in to pronounce the name, soft and careful, over Mattin’s ear, “that is your choice. A room if you like, or the nearest alley if you prefer.”

Mattin’s breath noisily caught in his throat and he ducked his head to wheeze and cough against Arden’s chest. “Arden,” he croaked.

As if that had told him Mattin’s choice, Arden practically purred over the top of Mattin’s head. “A room, then. Like secret, illicit lovers… though of course Mil will be delighted to hear of it.”

Mattin whined quietly but it was not an objection.

#a suitable consort (for the king and his husband)#a suitable 'verse #r. cooper #charity prompt #charity prompts 2023

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strangerqueerthings · 11 months

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First Line of 10 Fics game

Rules: share the first line of 10 of your most recent fanfics and then tag 10 people. If you have written less than 10 fics, don’t be shy and share anyways

Tagged by @harringrovest ♥ Ty bb! (Idk if this counts drabbles; just doing any over 2k words, I do a lot of drabbles)

Take Me Away To The Other Side (Mungrove; angst, recovery, monsters)

It had been months since the disaster at Star Court mall, and the town was still recovering.

Lifeline (General- Billy positive; Joyce being Mama Bear)

The scene Joyce comes home to that night would have sent the average single mom into a spiral of panic, but Joyce Byers is anything but the average single mom.

The First Time (serious angst/character death; heed tags.)

The first time Eddie sees him, he rolls his eyes.

Help Me Remember (Billy lost in the Upside Down; reunions)

He doesn’t know how he got here.

Break The Cycle (Billy/OC; mutual recovery from abusive parents.)

Hawkins. They hadn’t even reached it, and Arden Threlkeld already hated it.

tagging @ihni @decadentworld @giurochedadomani @thembohux @knucklechuffed @nebulousmistress @spaceofentropy @billyharringson @hargrove-mayfields

#tag memes

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stainedglasstruth · 4 months

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Left And Leaving || Xóchitl & Arden

TIMING: June LOCATION: The Wormhole PARTIES: Xóchitl (@vanishingreyes) & Arden (@stainedglasstruth) SUMMARY: Childhood friends meet at the bar. There's a bit of catching up, and a bit more as well. CONTENT WARNINGS: Alcoholism & child death tw

She’d never been inside a bar in town before she’d returned back “home” – if calling it home made sense. Xóchitl knew that by all technical accounts, it did. After all, she’d been born in Wicked’s Rest, and if not for certain exceedingly unfortunate events, she would have still lived there, all throughout her childhood and beyond. There were very clear reasons why that hadn’t happened, but still. Sometimes she didn’t even like calling the town home, no matter how true it might’ve been.

Still, she’d never been in a bar as a kid, and had somehow avoided it until now (drinking at home was preferable in some ways), but tonight Xóchitl had very explicitly decided to go out, to dress hot or whatever that was, and just not think about anything else, because being at home allowed her to get too much into her head in a way that she certainly didn’t like. It made her feel itchy, like when Mama had gotten her to wear a wool sweater one winter and she’d spent the whole night at the Nutcracker itching at her arms.

She was only half a drink in when she heard someone near her, and she turned to face them - their face familiar, though it was taking Xóchitl slightly longer than she would’ve liked to remember - except then she did and – “Arden!” She grinned. “Guess we’re both old enough to drink now, huh? You look great.”

Arden had a bit of a love/hate relationship with bars. In Boston, she had hit up the bars regularly, looking for drinks or a hookup. The drinks helped her loosen up and get out of her head for a while, and the hookups were a whole other kind of distraction from the mess in her head. She would flirt and mingle, sometimes even get a juicy little bit of information when she hadn’t been looking for any. However, she wasn’t the biggest fan of being surrounded by a lot of people, even less so when they were loud and drunk. But the past several weeks had been a little chaotic for the woman, and she could stand to blow off some steam.

She was sitting at the bar, and was just about to order a second drink, when she heard her name. Turning her attention to the nearby– beautiful– woman, she did look somewhat familiar. “Hey,” she said cautiously, trying to rack her brain as to where she knew this person from. It took her a little too long to place her, and the ‘I’m sorry, but do I know you’ was halfway out of her mouth when something clicked and Arden’s brows jumped up. “Holy shit, Xóchitl?” A smile was spreading across her face as years old memories flitted past her mind’s eye. “I didn’t know you were back in town. How are you? How have you been?

“Ha, thank you. You look– I mean, damn.” She laughed it off, not wanting to make the other uncomfortable or anything. But, like, damn, though. Wicked’s Rest was truly going to kill her, if not from the magic and monsters, then from the sheer amount of ridiculously hot people living there.

“Just since March. I’m well, been well, I’ve got a PhD now, which isn’t too shabby, I don’t think.” Screw it, she was allowed to brag and be proud of herself, wasn’t she? Xóchitl hadn’t seen Arden since she’d left Wicked’s Rest years ago, and though they’d never been as close as she’d been with Mackenzie, they had known each other and had been friends at least to some degree, hadn’t they? So it was simultaneously comforting and alarming to see someone who’d known her when she still wore multi-colored uncoordinated outfits and wasn’t set into a state of panic by playgrounds.

But right now, Arden was complimenting her looks and so she could relish in that, focus on that, all instead of focusing on her past. “I’ll take your damn and turn it right back to you.” Xóchitl smirked. “But thank you very much, I’m glad this outfit highlights my looks.” She tended to dress in a way that would be flattering to her, but her outfits for bars were far different from her outfits for daily life or work. “Can I buy you a drink?”

It was strange and a bit anxiety inducing, seeing one of the very few friends she had had as a child again. Between being more extroverted than she was now, her insatiable curiosity, and the fact that she had still been learning to read and socialize with others, Arden had been kind of annoying on top of being the bookish nerd. Turns out, that wasn’t the best combination of traits if you wanted to make friends. Xóchitl had always been kind, though. She had known they weren’t the best of friends, that title reserved for Mackenzie, whose sudden death had been difficult for her to process at such a young age, and they weren’t very close at all. It had to have been so incredibly difficult for Xó.

Honestly, her parents’ decision to move away from this town had probably been the best call. Mackenzie had only been the first person Arden had known to be taken by Wicked’s Rest, there had been plenty of others– classmates, parents, siblings, friends, friends of friends. If you lived here long enough, you were likely only two, maybe three degrees of separation away from someone who had died. Unfortunately, it seemed she wasn’t the only one drawn back to the town. She just hoped Xóchitl wouldn’t grow to regret that decision.

But for now they were in a bar, they were having drinks, and they were reconnecting– her bummer train of thought needed to go. She took a swig of her drink as she focused on the other’s words. “Well, welcome back,” Arden grinned. “Oh, damn, a doctorate? I even might go as far as to say that’s impressive.” The friendly smile curled up, a bit more mischievous, especially as Xó volleyed the damn right back to her. “Only if I can buy you one, as well.”

“I was never one to turn down a drink from a friend, or a pretty woman. Since you happen to be both, I’m pretty positive I’m legally not allowed to say no.” Xóchitl shrugged. “But I’m not any sort of law expert, so if you think differently, I’ll understand…” Because focusing on the fact that Arden had known her (and known her well) as a child was weird and simultaneously deeply uncomfortable and some of the most relaxed she’d felt since arriving. Comfort in uncomfortable situations. Like when she got into her mom’s car and it was so hot that she got cold.

This was kind of like that, except her legs didn’t stick to the seat and she couldn’t daydream without actually being rude.

She didn’t want to be rude to Arden, of all people. Mackenzie had been her first (and best) friend, but Arden had been around a great deal, and she’d always been kind to Xóchitl, even if Xóchitl didn’t always understand what she was talking about. “Still reading like nobody’s business?” She raised one of her eyebrows. “If you can believe it, I like reading now more than I used to.” Just not fantasy stories. That much she loathed.

She laughed, cheeks reddening slightly at the compliment. “Well, we can’t have you getting into trouble on my account. Besides, I tend to live my life by a similar philosophy.” As some who also liked drinks and women, and flirting with women, Arden certainly wasn’t going to say no. It didn’t have to lead to anything, but, seeing as Xóchitl was back in town, it would be nice to catch up with her.

“Yes,” she chuckled, running a hand through her hair. “More so for work than pleasure, unfortunately.” That sheepish feeling flared, thinking about how Xó had only seen her at her most uncouth. There wasn’t really anyone else she could say the same about, wasn’t really anyone else she had been close to at such a young age. It was a strange feeling– an embarrassing one, too. But it was fine, they had been kids then, it wasn’t a big deal, she tried to tell herself that. Anyway, it went down a little easier with whiskey.

“We love to see it,” she grinned. “Have you stopped by Fully Booked in Oldtown yet?” Arden couldn’t help herself; she was proud of Leah for running her own business, and it being a bookstore– a great bookstore– made it that much better. Her friend found a way to make a living off of something she loved, and it warmed her heart to see. It was nice to hear that Xóchitl had done well for herself, as well. It all felt so… adult– in a way that still felt strange sometimes, even more so now that she was back in her hometown.

“Exactly, can’t have me getting into legal trouble, what a shame that would be.” The grin didn’t leave her face, if anything, it only grew more prominent as they seemed to easily slide into some sort of familiar pattern despite not having seen one another in years - and Xóchitl also had, admittedly, not reached out, but then again, neither had Arden, so she wasn’t about to go throwing blame, but if that were the case, they were equally at fault, here. Except that neither of them were at fault because things changed, and that was that.

“Well, that’s a bummer, and I’m of the belief that pleasure should be chosen whenever possible.” Which, yes, perhaps held a bit more of a double meaning than she maybe had fully intended, but she didn’t really mind too much. Going with the flow seemed to be the right sort of choice for this evening. Or it would have to be, Xóchitl decided.

“I have.” Even if she didn’t have a lot of free time (though that was more by her own choice than her actual obligations), bookstores were good sorts of places to go. “It’s a wonderful store.” It was, and the woman who ran it looked somewhat familiar though Xóchitl couldn’t quite place her. “What drink do you want?”

”A terrible shame,“ she nodded, breathing out a laugh. ”If worse came to worse, though, you'd have a killer mugshot.“

“Is that so?” Arden asked, cocking an eyebrow. Xóchitl was quite a flirt, and regardless of where the night would take them, they had an easy banter going that she was really enjoying. “Sounds like a good way to live life.” After downing what was left of her whiskey, she turned down the flirty energy a little as she offered up some actual information about herself. “I do love my job, though …you know, generally speaking.“ She decided to only give Xó the highlights for now. There was no need to kill the mood with all of the bummer details. “I got my Masters in journalism here, left town for a few years, and now I'm back and working at the paper– Something Wicked.”

”Isn't it?” Her smile shifted into something slightly more soft as she thought of Leah and the store. “I am definitely biased, being best friends with the owner, but it really is a great little bookshop. Anyway, that's enough of the unintentional plugs,“ she grinned, poking fun at herself. ”I'll take a whiskey on the rocks. What can I get you?“

“Well, at least that’s something.” Xóchitl offered a rue smile. “Though I suppose I’d prefer to be photographed in better lighting than a jail.” The words felt fumbled, to a degree. More awkward than they should have been, when speaking to a friend. Though, she supposed, she couldn’t be faulted given that they hadn’t been in contact in two decades, and Xóchitl was, probably, best known for being Mackenzie’s friend, back then.

“It is so.” This was easier territory, one where she could flirt with abandon, without having to care too much at all. “It does make a nice way to live life, and I suppose it keeps me from ever being bored.” It also just plain kept her distracted, but that was a less fun way of putting things. Xóchitl nodded, “that’s good. It’s good to enjoy your job, and I hope you enjoy your work at the paper. Can’t say I can complain too much about my job.”

Another nod. “I don’t mind you being prideful in things like this, and it’s nice to know about new things in this town.” Xóchitl thought a moment, “tequila on the rocks for me, please. I just like how it goes down.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re using any ring lights for those mugshots.” What the fuck was she even saying? That second round couldn’t come soon enough.

It made her grin, but she did have to wonder if it was purely innuendo or not. In the past few years, she had had her fair share of flings, but Arden couldn’t really say that she had made choices that ultimately lead to a pleasureful life. She had chosen short-term pleasure, sure, but, well, that exactly didn’t last, did it? She certainly hadn’t been bored, but then again, she wasn’t the kind of person who did well with sitting still. Be it work or sex or research, she always felt as if she needed to be doing something, had to keep running. It had just left her lonely and miserable, though. However, Xóchitl wasn’t her and projecting that onto her would be a mistake.

“I do,” she nodded. Mostly. She didn’t exactly love having to twist the truth in her reporting, but as a Scribe she was in the unique position of having enough knowledge to do it well, being aware of many of the various threats in the town, how dangerous they were, how to hopefully keep people safe, to keep history from repeating itself. And there were a lot of things for her to investigate in Wicked’s Rest. “Even with all the tight deadlines,” she joked, pursing her lips. “What exactly are you doing with that impressive PhD of yours?”

Arden flashed her a slightly sheepish smile. “Noted.” As Xó shared her drink of choice she nodded, motioning to the bartender to add it to her tab. She bit back her smirk, wondering if that was another innuendo or her mind was just in the gutter. “I can definitely appreciate a good tequila myself.”

“Maybe in like, Los Angeles or something, but sure as shit not here.” It didn’t make sense, and Xóchitl knew that, but apparently talking nonsense was her theme of the evening. Which certainly was an interesting first impression on someone she hadn’t seen since they were literal children.

She hadn’t exactly sought real connection with most anyone, recently. In fact, Xóchitl did make almost a concerted sort of effort to not connect, which made flings easier, when things didn’t matter. Not that whomever she slept with didn’t matter, but by having them not become someone close to her, she negated the possibility of losing somebody important. To her, that was. Everyone was important to somebody but the selfish part of her said that maybe, just possibly, things didn’t matter as much if she didn’t feel a personal loss.

Which might have made her a bad person.

“I’m a clinical psychologist, and thank you very much for calling it impressive.” Xóchitl threw Arden another wink. “Though I’d venture to say that being a journalist is perhaps even more impressive. I do suppose that we each work to understand the world around us in our own sort of way, don’t we?”

“You should get one, then.” Xóchitl was flirting, but she wasn’t going to push anything, not if Arden didn’t want – the other woman could take the lead all she wanted, if she wanted. If not, just catching up itself was perfectly ideal.

It was a ridiculous response to her ridiculous statement and it made Arden laugh. She was grateful that Xó could ‘yes and’ her nonsense. It made sense in light of learning she was a psychologist– her old friend was charming, easy to talk to. They were settling into a fun, comfortable sort of banter, and she could imagine how her calm, confident demeanor would translate well into a more professional setting like that.

She smiled at the attempt to turn the tables on her. “I don’t know, a psychologist, that’s very impressive,” she smirked, quirking an eyebrow at the other. Though her smile melted into something more genuine as she continued, “It’s admirable, helping people like that.” Certainly more admirable than her job felt these days, even if she knew she was doing the right thing. Either way, the doctor’s observation was rather astute.

“That’s a good way to look at it, yeah.” She often found her writing process was like solving a puzzle. First she gathered all the pieces, and then she arranged them into a coherent narrative. In that way, she supposed it was like trying to understand the news, the world, even, as if it were a book she was trying to analyze. Because it always came back to books for her, didn’t it?

With Xóchitl, though, she supposed the other woman found more sense in trying to understand how the mind worked, or even how other people saw the world. Which definitely sounded like a better, more logical way to go about things. It was certainly more realistic and involved than feeling like an outside observer trying to make sense of things like she was back in one of her old college lit classes. She couldn’t help but think that Xóchitl was the kind of woman Arden’s mother had always wanted her to be.

And with that thought, some tequila did sound like a great idea, honestly.

She smiled gratefully at the bartender for their amazing timing, taking a good sip of her whiskey as she shoved any and all thoughts of her mother as far away as humanly possible. Instead, she focused on the gorgeous woman beside her and that mischievous, flirty glint in her eyes. “You know, I think I will.”

She wasn’t just talking about tequila.

Arden’s laugh was nice. More than just nice, even, there was something of a relief in it – relief that she didn’t think Xóchitl was too much now, relief that they could still joke even though they’d been children the last time they saw each other, relief that she could still work things the way she wanted. Not that she’d been especially doubtful about the last of those things, she had always had at least something of an easy time working whatever room she found herself thrown into.

“I do what I can.” Xóchitl didn’t especially find herself keen to go into more of the depths behind why she’d ended up doing what she did. Even with Arden, who’d at least casually known Mackenzie, talking about her dead best friend was still a surefire way to kill any mood that might be developing. But she had to admit that being praised certainly wasn’t anything she intended to turn down anytime soon. It did still make her feel very (very) good.

She’d just wanted to know how people worked, to be able to understand the why behind so many things, in a desperate sort of way to at least attempt to solve problems. Namely, her own, and to figure out what had happened to Mackenzie, but figuring out things for other people wasn’t so bad at all. Xóchitl liked when she was able to bring relief to people, to help them.

For all that she claimed not to care, she knew that she did, in fact, care. Arden did too, that much was clear, even if the other woman wasn’t being so very forthcoming about any of it.

The glint in the other woman’s eyes did feel nice. “I mean, you can also try mine, first, but I do deeply recommend it.” Xóchitl reached and brushed a tiny, hardly noticeable strand of hair away from Arden’s face. “Didn’t want anything to block your view – or my view of you.”

“Hey, that’s all anyone can ask for,” she shot back with an easy smile and a shrug of her shoulders. Though if Xóchitl was going to be practicing in Wicked’s Rest she would probably be facing a lot of weird shit, and quite a lot of heaviness, too. Arden hoped she would be able to handle it. There were certainly a lot of people in town who could use the help of a professional after things they’d witnessed or endured here. She had the potential to do a lot of good here– if the town didn’t scare her off.

But she also had to wonder how much, if anything, Xó knew about the supernatural. Had she learned anything before they had left? Or had she learned anything after leaving wherever it had been that she had ended up? She was curious to know more about her, about why she had decided to come back after all these years the same way Arden herself had. However, those weren’t the kind of questions you could just spring on someone you hadn’t spoken to in decades.

Besides, they were definitely flirting and having a nice time, she didn’t want to ruin that.

“In that case, you’re more than welcome to try mine, as well,” she offered.

They had gradually been shifting closer to one another as their chat progressed, but Arden hadn’t been entirely conscious of how close they were until Xóchitl reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The move was maybe slightly cliché, but it was one that worked– she knew that from experience. And it was working on her, too, her cheeks warming despite herself. It helped that the view was rather alluring. “How very considerate of you. It is a gorgeous view, I must say. But, not just views, of course, doctor,” she added playfully.

“You make a very good point,” she replied, in turn. She’d never intended to return to town, not specifically at least. Though, Xóchitl supposed, the thought of it all had always rested somewhere in the back of her mind, ever since she’d left. Ever since her moms had packed up their house, a part of her knew she’d have to come back, because Mackenzie deserved that. Heck, she deserved that, to put an end to all the confusion she constantly felt. Not that her confusion had come to much of any sort of an end since she’d returned – if anything, being back around this town had only heightened her confusion. Her feelings of hollowness and loss –

– which, she supposed, was part of why she found herself at bars more than she’d been in a number of years. Doing something to fill the confusing hollowness that sometimes seemed to be never ending. So flirting and drinking was good and let her take her mind off things, and, not that she felt like she needed it, but the boost of confidence that she got certainly didn’t help.

Flirting with a former friend was maybe weird, but at the same time, Xóchitl had flirted with current friends before, and she hadn’t seen Arden in decades, either, and since they hadn’t exactly kept in touch, she figured that this was more akin to running into a vaguely familiar stranger. Not in any sort of bad way – if anything, it made everything about Arden just that much more alluring.

“Then I think I might.” She took Arden’s drink from her hand and took a small sip. “Not bad, you’ve got good taste.” Faint remnants of lipstick were on the rim of the glass, and Xóchitl knew how terribly clichéd all of this was, but there was another part of her that relished in the clichés.

“I do believe in getting to know things more intimately. Views rarely do justice to the actual thing.” Xóchitl winked. “And yes, you are quite a gorgeous view, in my highly trained opinion.”

She so did love to hear that. Call her conceited, but Arden loved being right, and hearing others admit to it, to tell her that, it was always a shot of dopamine straight to the brain. She really had thrived in a school environment.

“I do try,” she grinned. But it was true. Xóchitl could downplay it all she wanted, but working as a psychologist, it was objectively admirable work. She wouldn’t make it weird and make a whole thing about it, but it was… nice knowing that the little girl she’d known had gone on to make this impressive life for herself, that she had, undoubtedly, worked her ass off to dedicate her life to helping others.

…it also felt a little insane that someone her age was a doctor, that she had such an important, adult job, but that was neither here nor there.

They traded drinks, and Arden tried to be mindful of the fact that she was wearing lipstick as she took a sip from the other’s glass. Still, there were traces of maroon marks left as she handed it back over, the tequila going down rather smoothly. It was good, sweet and somewhat floral. “Mm,” she hummed, “likewise. Tequila’s not my go-to, but maybe I need to start switching it up a bit more.”

She was starting to feel the drinks a little now, a warmth settling in her stomach and spreading through her veins. Though, it wasn’t just the drinks, of course.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she smirked. And the compliment only served to pull a chuckle out of her. “Oh, I don’t know, doc.” Her eyes flicked over Xóchitl’s form momentarily. “You might want to do a more thorough examination before you jump to any conclusions.”

“Well, in my obviously unbiased opinion, I think you succeed quite well.” So maybe she liked complimenting people who so clearly enjoyed it. Especially because far too often she came across people who seemed to either not want the compliments, or give off a sense of false modesty around them. Xóchitl found herself far more confused by people not wanting the compliments, but she’d elected to not focus on that too much.

Or, at least, to try to not focus on that too much. Her successes varied based on the day – hell, even based on the hour.

But Arden was taking her compliments and rolling with them and that made the other woman all the more beautiful to Xóchitl. “I think you should try it more. I’d be happy to give you any amount of recommendations that you might want or need…” her voice trailed off as she took another sip of her drink, the way it made her mind feel halfway wavy and made her relax more than welcome.

Not to say that she wasn’t relaxed because of her drinking partner, but more because of… just about everything else in her life. Which was an exceedingly dramatic way to think about it, but screw that thought process, because Xóchitl knew she was allowed to feel whatever sort of way that she wanted to deal.

Arden’s eyes made their way over her body, and Xóchitl’s lips turned up into a properly mischievous grin that time. “I might not be that exact type of doctor, but I’d also be probably, like, totally inattentive if I didn’t. I will say, I’d much prefer to do the examination in private. Specifically my place. I do have more tequila there, too, you know, for extrinsic motivating factors.” Before she could think twice, she’d pressed her lips against Arden’s. “I promise to be very thorough.”

“Well, I very much appreciate it,” Arden smiled, feeling amused and maybe a little too self-satisfied. There was nothing like a compliment from a beautiful, intelligent woman to make you feel more confident in yourself. The drinks also helped, she supposed.

“Coming from a woman with such good taste, I’ll gladly take any recommendations you might have.” …okay, that one felt like a little too much somehow. She chased the words with another sip of whiskey, and it helped them go down much more easily.

Maybe the doctor shtick had been low-hanging fruit, but it was right there, she’d had to. “Exactly,” she grinned. She was trying to think of a witty response when Xóchitl closed the distance between them. It obviously wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it still managed to catch her off guard slightly. It took her mind a second to catch up, and by then the other woman was starting to pull away. Her lips chased Xó’s, needing to properly kiss her back before they separated, Arden grinning.

“How could I possibly say no to that?”

#alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #child death tw #writing #wickedswriting #collab #vanishingreyes #wr xochitl

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