an outsider;

november 2025 microfics, day 29: soup | 1,068 words | rated g (part 4 of the author!frank universe [parts 1, 2, and 3])

for the @kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic challenge

Mel’s used to them by now. The nicknames. Trinity’s come up with a few different ones over the years, but she has her go-tos: melly, melatonin, mel bear. They’re kind of cute—and Mel knows she’s only teasing, anyway.

But Yolanda hadn’t been teasing earlier, when she’d elbowed past Mel into Trauma One and sniped, “Watch it, Sunshine.”

@kingdonmacrofic • Day 17: Maze • 641/285 • Rated: E

CW: Infidelity, Age Gap, Fingering, Dubcon

standalone but it's set in the same universe as day 4 and day 5

•••

The first time Langdon kisses Mel, he takes note of her pelvis bucking up to meet his. They're locked in a supply closet.

Once caught, she jumps to apologize. Her stream of conscious becomes a blubbering mess explaining she had never done such a thing or wanted to, especially during a work hours, it's really so out of character, she's usually such a good girl, everybody would tell her so–

"Is that what you think you are, Melissa?"

Mel's rambling halts. Eyes wide at the insinuation she is anything but. Still, she nods.

Langdon narrows his eyes. Not that he doesn't believe her, he wishes to test her claim. Good girl implies she's loyal, clinging to his side, operating on praise, taking rewards and retribution eagerly—like a puppy. The kind of girl he'd drop in a maze to see if she'd run to his embrace from scent alone.

Good girl, he scoffs thinking about it. If she would like to make high claims, she wouldn't mind them tested, would she?

Her only saving grace is his index finger languidly trailing from her lips, between her breasts, over her abdominal plane (two, five, eight, he whispered), and settled on the edge of her waistband. He tapped thrice.

When Mel responds with a hiccup and a shaky we can't right now, he slips a hand in. He dips a finger through her panties, gathering wetness on the fabric. "If you're such a good girl, tell me to quit."

Their proximity does her no favours. Langdon's lips hover over her, momentarily, as his fingers push aside the fabric and trace her entrance. She's new to this, he can tell.

Sometimes he wishes she worked in the ER instead of pushing pencils upstairs. Though, she spends enough time trailing him anyway.

"Sweet that you think I won't take it right here. Jesus, does Gloria know her little intern spends her day in the ER like this, or should I shoot her an email?"

There's a whimper when he pushes a finger in. One he'll file away for quieter, lonelier nights.

Dr. Lang–

"Listen, sweetheart, you can walk away if you can tell me to stop playing with your cunt. One word, that's it."

There's no protest. Mel moans when he adds a second finger and even grinds on the heel of his hand. He feels the bundle of nerves, soft on his hand, chasing friction. Good girls don't lose their virginities in supply closets, he's sure to save hers for his marital bed.

For now, he settles for three fingers pumping fervently, stretching her for the first time. That's too many, sir.

Sir? Christ, she's adorable.

"Tell me to stop then, sweetheart."

That elicits a breathy moan. Langdon revels in it, flies this one away with the rest.

Should he record her?

Just as the thought hits, so does her orgasm. Unable to keep it at bay, Mel quivers around his hand.

One sweetheart is all it takes. He wonders if there are other pet names that might do her in faster. Baby, sugar, angel, pumpkin. Another thought for another day.

Delirious, she asks if she's meant to feel lightheaded. Langdon frees his hand from her shorts, sucking his fingers clean. With his free hand, Langdon tucks a wet strand behind her ear. The July heat finally catching up to her.

There's reason this sort of act happens horizontally. Mel deserves to throw her head on a pillow or curl under his arm after exerting herself.

"Mel, you okay?"

"Uh-huh, just a tad exhausted," she replies, still giddy. "Maybe I should head upstairs soon, I've been gone all morning."

Patting her braid back in place, Mel leans up to kiss cheek, then his lips, offering a soft thank you before heading out.

Bucket List :)

• have my first kiss

She thought she’d remember everything about him: the smell of the cologne he wore off-shift, the particular length of the hair on his knuckles, the way he’d always jump over the last three stairs from the landing, swinging around with one hand firm on the banister. Her brain chemistry convinced her she would learn him inside and out better than Abby ever had, and that knowledge would be the foundation for something life-long.

But when she flips the calendar to December, it takes her a second to recognize his handwriting scrawled over a faded coffee ring. She struggles to conjure the image of him last fall, filling out important dates in an effort to counter his ADHD. The curse of brain plasticity; she’s already used to him being gone.

for @kingdonmicrofic challenge ♥️

tags: mel king/frank langdon; teen; memory loss; frank langdon & robby; angst

word count: 241

“Memory is a tricky thing,” Robby reminds Frank. 

“Fuck off.”

Robby goes on, “You should prepare yourself for the possibility that her memories might not come back.”

Frank turns to face him. He looks like shit. Not that he must look much better. He’s been at the hospital for ten days straight, only leaving to shower and change or check on his kids.

Robby runs a hand through his hair. “No matter what, it’s shit.”

On that, Frank agrees with him. “You really think Mel might not remember me?”

Robby hesitates, and it’s the only answer he needs. He can’t recall the last time the two of them talked alone like this. It’s probably been years. Between Frank’s 10-month absence and then Robby icing him out for the months that followed, they never got back to where they were before. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, they were never friends. It just took him a while to realize it. 

“You have to consider that the best option might be to…Let her go,” Robby says. 

“Because that’ll fix everything.” Frank sounds as bitter as his father does when he talks about his mother. 

“I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

It’s the ugly truth, and yet, Frank isn’t going to listen. 

“I don’t care if she never remembers me. I’m staying.”

Robby nods, as if he expects this.

I can't believe I finally made it under the cut! On day SEVENTEEN. God damn it.

tags: Mel & Frank, gen, fairy-tale, meet-cute. (450 words)

Remember, Melissa. If the wind howls, listen. If it whispers, run.

A kind word travels farther than a fast horse.

You shan’t ever make deals with the fae.

Her mother was partial to repeating those  three sayings to Mel, almost a mantra. Lucille was very fond of knowing things —that’s where you get your curiosity, Missy, her father used to say when she was young—, but not nearly as much as she enjoyed turning her wisdom into a King’s decree, never to be strayed from. 

Nevermind her youngest struggle to keep them all afloat. The writings must always come first. None of that mattered anymore. Mother was long buried and winter was coming soon. They had to leave for the continent before the first snow hit the ground. Becca’s little vegetable garden and Mel’s work as an apprentice healer at the apothecary wouldn't keep them from starving. 

The bargain struck was very clear. If Mel was able to find her way out of the maze before the third moon’s turn, she would be granted enough coin to safely make it out of their dreary village. If she failed, the maze would collapse on itself, dragging everything in its midst down to the Pit.

Mel sat behind a mossy rock by the river, adding more marks to her makeshift map. She was confident in the path so far, surely would make it if she kept trekking west, away from the moonlight’s shine.

A branch creaked under someone’s foot. Mel stilled. There was a shadow moving in her direction.

They are as beautiful as they are deceitful. Her mother’s voice rang in her ears, but her blood was rushing louder.

The man, was he a man? was dark-haired and fair, tall and slender. It seemed the closer he got to Mel, the broader his frame became. Was it a changeling?

“Good evening, dearheart” he spoke in a honeyed drawl, coming to a stop so close she could smell the spearmint on his clothes. Fresh and sharp, just like his otherworldly blue eyes.

Mel gulped, looking down at her feet. They were planted in the ground, her lips were sealed shut. Good. It was better to keep her piece than to talk herself into an early grave.

When she said nothing, the man lifted her chin with his thumb —calloused, dry skin— until she met his stare. 

It was surprisingly warm. Suddenly, violently, Mel wanted to keep her eyes on his until they both turned to dust.

So distracted by the unexpected connection,none of them noticed the ring of flowers around their feet, glowing alight in the quiet night.

november 2025 microfics, day 17: maze | 475 words | rated g (melmisery, greek myth)

for the @kingdonmicrofic challenge

Her father had warned her about men. (Women too, especially the ones from out there, but Mel was a woman and her sister was a woman, so she figured they couldn’t all be bad.)

Watch their eyes, her father told her. Their hands, as they approach you. Their backs, as they turn away.

So Mel watched. She’d found an alcove when she was younger, a smattering of rocks cocooned by dense foliage, right in front of the golden door. An eye-catching door. A warning.

She watched as her father led seven women and seven men—all outsiders, she noted—past the door, down the steps, and into the mouth of the labyrinth.

The line crackled as their comms connected. He wasn’t expecting her—she wasn’t sure if he’d pick up. There wasn’t bad blood between them, but Frank was on the outs with the ‘patriarch’—he’s convinced Bats would prefer it if he had stayed dead.

“Looks like you took a pretty nasty fall, do you—” he could hear the local news in the background, talking heads regurgitating some press release about Arkham renovations.

“Ah, so you do still keep tabs on me.”

She rolled her eyes, checking the security feed; he was looking at her through his wrist comm. “You’re on Park Row Fr—Red Hood, I’d be bad at my job if I didn’t have eyes there.”

He hummed like he didn’t believe her. (He shouldn’t. Of course she kept tabs on him. She had already lost him once).

“Speaking of your accomplishments,” Mel wished he wouldn’t. She couldn’t see his expression, but his shit eating grin burned in her mind anyways. “National Medal of Science, and a new bat species named after you in the same week. Do you think a statue at Robinson Park is next?”

It looked like she wasn’t the only person keeping tabs. (The bat thing was entirely coincidental, Nightwing said that the scientist had a crush on her—she doubted that theory. She hadn’t been bat anything in a while, resigned to her new identity as Oracle. The whole thing felt like a cruel comedy of errors).

Mel could end the call, Frank was clearly physically well (which she knew before she pinged him). She watched as the sun peeked over the city, criminals slinking away from the light and decided to indulge him (herself).

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful—”

“You never could.” He interrupted like it was a reflex to defend her. 

“The awards and honours are nice, they mean something to me. But…” Her tongue felt too big for her mouth, clogging up her words. If there’s anyone who could understand her it was him; by the same hands, with the same distant father figure, they had both suffered—him a death and resurrection, and her paralysis.

She spun away from the camera, afraid of what her tired mind might betray. “It feels unsatisfying that it’s not on my terms. This isn’t the life I envisioned.”

“Yeah I know what you mean.” She can hear the crunch of a used needle beneath his boot, 100 metres away from his apartment door. Frank resided in the same zip code he was born into.

Not For Puppies

@kingdonmicrofic day 16 | breeze | 430/430

All their lives, Becca has told Mel, “making friends is a breeze, it's so easy.”

And for Becca, it's always been true. Growing up, their mom surrounded Becca with people she trusted and knew would be kind.

As adults, Becca's care centers have always come with built-in friends in a way that the competitive atmosphere of medicine has never provided to Mel.

Plus, maybe Mel’s biased, but Becca is just easy to love. And more than that, she loves hard. She's a good friend, and it's rare to come across anyone Becca doesn't immediately like.

That's why it's such a shock when Becca dislikes Frank the first time they meet.

for @kingdonmicrofic | rating: t | wc: 430 part 8/13 of LOVERCORE

read on ao3

You haven’t been dating.

Abby’s words are stuck in his head, repetitive and haunting. Now that his ex-wife is happily in a serious relationship (good dude, if boring, but that’s exactly what Abby needs and he’s good with Tanner and Kenzie so, whatever), naturally she’s turned her attention to Frank.

He shrugged off the question after saying good night to the kids. Abby hadn’t seemed convinced by I’m trying to focus on myself. 

You’re allowed to find someone, you know. To be happy too.

That wasn’t the issue. Frank is happy.

He’s happy with Mel.

Word count: 336 | Rating: G

A ridiculous bit of crackfic for today's @kingdonmicrofic challenge. This may seem ooc, but believe me when I say LJ back in the day has us all a bit ooc

All November prompt fills

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mellifluous-musings.livejournal.com

👤 mellifluous-musings November 14th, 2026, 19:32 pm

Return of the King

A LOT of the FList have been asking for more deets about the blue-eyed boy, but we haven’t been on the same shift for nearly TWO WEEKS *growls*

BUT, guess what? I'm back on day shift again. So you know what that means! Yes, I'm back working with Dr McDreamy again *swoon*

I did avoid glomping him IRL don’t worry.

But it was SO NICE, you have no idea. The HB(londe)IC calls us the Dream Team and she’s not wrong – we’re in sync, in step, in the zone. He just gets me, and we work SO WELL together.

I got to do some CRAZY cool procedures today, under his watchful eye (and what an eye). Boss Man was even there for one but McD just talked me through it and I did it and holy cow it was so satisfying! I got a “nice work” from Boss Man and – I kid you not – a WINK from McD. I was very profesh and didn’t melt on the spot… I did a little dance later when I took a bathroom break lol

So, OK, one thing kind of happened? Or is happening? I don’t know, I’m sure you’ll tell me of it’s A Thing in the comments ROFL The weather’s to get bad over the next few days and I said how my bus can be such a pain on days like that and McDreamy? Offered to pick me up *flails* I tried to say no (yes, I did!) but he was very insistent so OBVIOUSLY I said yes please eventually, very normally despite screaming internally.

And OK maybe I buried the lede but…

He dropped me home tonight! Said that I live so close to him (!!) that he’d be happy to CARPOOL!!!

I think I may have turned into a puddle of goo.

CURRENT MOOD 🥰 besotted

CURRENT MUSIC WAP