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thequeenofadream · 6 years

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Dancing in the moonlight (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Summary: you’re an up and coming artist who could need some more coverage so your management decides to pair you in a fake relationship with the one and only Roger Taylor. how will things go when things get not so fake?

Words: 4,025

Notes: swearing, fluff, angst but blink and you’ll miss it.

A/N: there’s a lot of movie references here most obviously to all the boys i’ve loved before haha anyways at this point everything i touches flops so idk but hey i love you all anyways <333 also i spent like five hours on this wow kill me

🎀 tagging: @obsessedwithrogertaylor @malekdarling @i-padfootblack-things

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Dancing in the moonlight. It sounds like such an aesthetic and romantic venture, but has anyone stopped to think about it? Two people dancing in the dark of night with only a glimmer of light to guide their way. It sounds terrifying. What if you trip? What if you get lost? To most it would sound like a enchanted moment to share with the one you truly love, but to you it sounded like bullshit. Dancing in the moonlight was something to good to be true, especially when you had no choice.

That was all you could think about when your manager had instructed that you get into a PR relationship to promote your next album. You weren't unknown, you had a management team afterall, but you could certainly use more coverage. You weren't one for partying all night so that could explain some things, but you weren't a complete prude. The media, however ran with that. You thought it was stupid and most importantly disingenuous. You didn't want fans who only payed attention to you because of who you were dating. You had strongly protested against it, but your label approved of it and quickly found someone to be your ‘other half’. You were sitting on a sofa in an office waiting for your so called ‘boyfriend’ to arrive reading the morning’s headlines.

ROGER TAYLOR IN KINKY GAMES WITH FLAKE GIRL.

You rolled your eyes. Roger Taylor, drummer of queen, was quite the guy. All you could ever hear of him was his risqué escapades and one night stands. You didn't necessarily hate him with a burning passion, but you were annoyed by him. He didn't seem like the kind of guy you'd become friends with. His lifestyle didn't really coincide with yours. You were much more reserved and quiet compared to his adventurous personality.

You looked up at the clock and back at your manager sitting in the chair across you. He was 30 minutes late.

“good thing he isn't my real boyfriend.” you scoffed, and rolled your eyes showing your annoyance.

“Cut him some slack, (Y/N). “ Your manager, Hera, spoke, pleadingly. You had become good friends and you trusted her for what was good for you career wise. It was just this one time that you were doubting her choice.

The door flew open and out came a middle aged man first and the blonde drummer you had just seen in the paper. You eyed him up and down and could in fact admit that he did look quite handsome and charming. His blonde hair complimented baby blue eyes, how the beach sand compliments an ocean's waves. His physique wasn't toned, but he wasn't a complete stick figure either.

Roger caught you staring at him and raised an eyebrow.

“I didn't think I would catch the ‘polite and innocent’ (Y/N) staring at me.” He smirked sitting down on the spot next to you on the couch. You rolled your eyes setting the newspaper down on the coffee table.

“I can be the impolite (Y/N), if you'd like.” You retorted crossing your arms. Roger was about to respond when the middle aged man spoke up.

“Okay, please stop bickering. We have some work to do.”

Hera just nodded along and you sighed deeply. It seemed like Roger was clueless to what was happening due to his puzzled expression.

“Okay, Jim what exactly is going on?” He asked giving into the curiosity.

“The folks over at trident think you've been way too risqué lately. They want you to have a PR relationship to cover some of it up.” He said picking up the newspaper you were once reading. He handed it to Roger and pointed to the headline.

He grit his teeth, reading through the article. He didn't understand what was so bad. They were a rock band for fuck’s sake, not a bible choir. Suddenly the gears in his mind l started to click and he put two and two together. He looked at you and then Jim and back to you.

“I’m gonna be with you?” He gasped, pointing a finger at you accusitoringly. You didn't understand why he was overreacting so much. I mean you didn't like it either, but you didn't go and point fingers at anyone.

“Yeah, problem?” You asked, almost too defensively. He sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. The man you now knew as Hera chimed in trying to state the positives of the situation.

“Look, you'll both get to show to the media the other side of yourselves. (Y/N), you can show them that you're not the prude they think you are and Roger, you can show them that you're also a charming young man who doesn't take women for granted.”

“But I don’t-”

“We know Rog, but that's how the public perceives it.” Jim interrupted him with the harsh truth.

Roger let out the deepest sigh you've ever heard and took out a pack of cigarettes.

“I’m going for a smoke.” He exited into the alleyway, lighter and cigarette in hand. Jim sighed and went into the hallway, not knowing how to handle Roger. Hera went after him, trying to bring some comfort.

You just sat there, watching everything unfold. You couldn't really do anything against it so you just watched him storm out, but you could get what he's feeling. You decided to go after him and try to sympathise. You entered the alleyway to see him with a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His back was leaning against the wall. He immediately sees you and takes a long drag, before huffing out the smoke in his lungs.

“What do you want?” He asked, his eyes full of spite.

“I just wanted to say, I don't want to do this either.” You spoke softly, now wanting him to get any more stressed.

“Of course, you wouldn't.” He mocks you.

“I bet you were the one who suggested this whole thing.” He went on throwing his hands up.

Anger started bubbling up within you, and you had to restrain yourself from slapping some sense into him. To say you suggested this was an absolute insult to you.

“Look Roger.” You paused and smiled sarcastically.

“Do you really think I'd want to be pretending to share intimate moments with someone i barely know? No. I’d much rather spend time to myself, writing music. I find this whole thing dishonest and I don't want to lie my way to the top. I want to do things I’ll be proud of.”

Roger stopped for a moment and looked at you, his blue eyes gleaming into your (E/C) ones.

“I know, I'm sorry.” He dropped his cigarette and squashed it into the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words to say.

“I know it seems like I don't care much, but I want other people to see that I'm an artist as well. I want them to know for my music, not the women I’ve shagged.” He says, finally letting out his emotions.

You were now apathetic to man you swore you couldn't befriend. You saw how the media portrayed him and you were glad you weren't in his position. I mean sure he could pretend to not care and ignore it, but deep down inside, he cared a lot.

“Okay, here me out.”

“Hearing you out.”

You leaned sideways against the wall before continuing. “We both want the same thing, we're both being forced to do this and we both want a change of perspective. Can't we work together? ” You suggested.

“I mean of course, but how?” both your minds tried to figure out how you would handle the situation of being together. An idea popped into your head and you took Roger’s hand and dragged him inside.

“Hey, hey where are we going?” He asked as you brought him back into the office. You let go of his hand and went behind the desk to look for some pen and paper. You laid them both out and the desk as Roger sat down on the other side of the desk.

“We have to set boundaries.” You said taking the paper and writing down a rule. You put it back down and Roger took it reading what you written down.

“No sex?”

“Listen if I’m gonna do it, I wanna do it with someone I really do love.” You said handing him the pen.

“Fair enough.” He said writing down something else on the paper. You peeked over to see what he was writing.

“But we have to at least make the public believe that we're head over heels with each other.”

You saw what he wrote and it said PDA. You cringed at the thought, but he was right. You might as well get over it.

“Fine.”

“Aw, come on. I’m not a bad kisser. In fact maybe you'll find out later.” He winked which sent a shiver down your spine. You tried not to make your blushing evident, but it very much was. Roger like making you flustered, and would plan to do so in this fake relationship.

“Okay, no wait” You stumbled over your words before finally forming a cohesive sentence.

“One more rule, we tell no one. No bandmates, parents, sisters, brother, friends. Got it?” You wrote it down while Roger watched. You signed your name at the bottom the very bottom signifying your agreement. You looked back up and stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it.

“Just one person please.” He begged profusely. You thought about it and figured there was no use arguing with him. You were both agreeing on things and you had take the seize the opportunity.

“Okay, okay.” You said as he took your hand. He took the pen and added ‘except one person’ on the last rule.

“Now sign the paper.”

“Are you serious?”

“Just do it.”

You pestered him and slapped his shoulder playfully. He raised his hands defensively, giving in. He signed at the bottom and it was done. You stuck the paper in your pocket and this was where your fake relationship started.

It was a month into your ‘infatuation’ with one another and the masses were eating it up. You were both showing your more romantic sides and quickly became quite a power couple. People were quick to forget both of your pasts to focus on the your ever blooming relationship. It was so believable that eventually you both had been invited to parties together.

As you got to closer to him, you saw past the flirtatious jokes and alcohol fuelled activities, and saw the music devoted, passionate drummer. You tried to tell yourself you weren’t falling for him, but it was far too late. On the other hand, he also started to see your less innocent side which was not as innocent as he thought.

“So (Y/N), what’s the most romantic thing Roger has done so far?” Freddie asked smiling at you both from across the dinner table. Roger brought you to dinner with the boys as to introduce you to one another. It was going pretty well and you quite like them. They were fun to be around and they feeling seemed to mutual.

“Hm.. I don’t know Fred.” You thought deeply of an excuse, when you realized it was your time to fluster Roger as he usually does.

“Well, there as this one night where roger came to my flat and woke me up in the middle of the night and surprised me with a box.” You paused looking to see Rog’s reaction was currently nothing. He sat back to see how you would fair.

“The box he had was a decoupage of his face and hearts. I was still hazy so I had not had a clue what was going on, so honestly I thought either I was going mad or Rog was absolutely pissed.” Brian and John had started chuckling whilst Fred listened on intently.

“I opened the box and saw a toy car inside, which Roger proceeded take and told me that i’m in love with my car was about me. I was obviously shocked and still half asleep so I told him to fuck off and went back to sleep.” Everyone at the table, but roger laughed, you included. He just pouted trying to look enraged, but ended up looking like a cute kid who just got embarrassed.

“I knew it couldn’t possibly be about a car.” Brian said in between laughs.

“I mean he locked himself in a cupboard.”

Everyone continued to laugh making jokes based off the encounter whilst Roger just waited for everyone to shut the fuck up. He obviously couldn’t protest, but he was pissed. You started feeling guilty for the partially blind melon and decided to boost his ego the slightest bit. When things started to die down, you spoke up.

“Although I will say, that morning i did show him how to fuck off.”

You winked at Roger and his jaw just fell, leaving his mouth agape. He had never heard you say something with even the slightest hint of suggestiveness. You just giggled at him, seeing how surprised he was by your little comment.

“That sounds about right.” Fred raising his eyebrow.

Later on when everyone had left and you and Roger were the only ones left. He asked you about it.

“So what happened to no sex?”

“I didn’t say we could pretend.” You said sipping more of the champagne you had. Roger just shook his head not knowing how to feel, turned on or turned on. He was starting to wish things weren’t pretend.

You had become quite good friends behind the scenes so acting like a couple was becoming less and less of a drag, but your label would always find some way to exaggerate your relationship by creating elaborate plots that would surely catch the media’s eye.

“You want Rog to fake save me from drowning in the ocean?”

They were trying to make Roger seem like some hero type character and you were some damsel in distress; you both responded in ways that got you in trouble. Bottom line, you saved Roger from fake drowning in the ocean. For a label named after the weapon of the God of sea, they didn’t have much control what happened out on that beach.

This incident however sparked numerous others that the management did NOT like.

What you and Roger did was basically do the opposite of what they’d say. If they had told you to go to a new movie premiere together and start some fight only to end up in some passionate make out session in front everyone, you’d go to either yours or roger’s flat and watch whatever movie was on. It was something you both took deep pleasure in for the purpose of fucking over the management and having a good time.

“This is so much better compared to mingling with whoever the fuck the whole night.” You said throwing a popcorn into your mouth. Roger just laughed at you in amusement. He couldn’t believe how laid back you had become because of him. He was proud in a way.

“True.” He smiled as you rest your head on his shoulder. The movie carries on until quite an emotional scene broke out between the protagonist. In that moment a scary thought entered your mind, unannounced and you didn’t know how to react but to blurt it out.

“So what happens when this is all over?” You asked looking up at him, scared to see what he would say. “Well we’ll still be friends for sure.” He said taking some popcorn from the bowl you held. You looked him eye to trying to set it to a more serious tone.

“I’m serious Roger. Do you promise?” You asked as he looked at you, your eyes filled with dread. He smiled soft, knowing exactly how to put you at ease.

“(Y/N), I could never forget you even if I tried. I don’t think I could even go a minute without thinking of you.”

All these little things you did, only hastened your attachment to him. If you could hold onto him for the rest of your life, you would.

You were in love and it was as if a wrecking ball had just wrecked your heart a million times over.

About seven months in, they had called you both in to the very same office this all started. The room was silent and you sense something horrible was about to happen. Unfortunately, you were correct.

“You both have to break up.”

The CEO said firmly as you both sat opposite him. You were going to protest, but the man who was your boss laid out the rules very quickly. He didn’t want to see you together ever again.

You couldn’t even hear what he was saying after he had said you couldn’t see each other anymore. Your vision went blurry and you didn’t know how the both of you were gonna handle this. You wondered what would happen to your friendship. Was your chance at a real relationship crushed for good? You didn’t know and that was what scared you most.

You were miserable. It was as if you and Roger were finally finding your way when stumbled and fell. You were sure you wanted him more, you didn’t have to pretend to love him. You were in love with him, you knew it by heart. You wanted tell the whole world you loved him and you could only wish he would love you in the same way. You could die happily in his arms, but right now you could die period.

The little meeting ended and he left you two in the room to say your goodbyes. The silence was thick just like in the beginning. A billion thoughts were running through your minds so it was understandable. You were about to speak up when Roger beat you to it.

“Well, It was nice knowing you (Y/N), but I guess our time in a fake relationship is up.”

He stood up and left the room, leaving you to it. You would have gone a followed him, but you were too much in the state of shock to do say. You couldn’t believe that he had just done that after everything the both of you had been through. He just threw every memory you shared as if it were nothing. Tears started to streak down your cheeks as you heard the door open. Hera saw you crying your eyes out and immediately deducted what had happened.

“Fell for him?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you weren’t going to.”

“Me too.”

You had tried to forget him, despite all the polaroids the you had posted around your flat. You didn’t want to take them down just yet, but you couldn’t stand to see his face. He kept you alive, but killed you softly all at the very same time. You would laze around your flat the whole day and spend the night on the sofa the whole night mindlessly watching whatever came on.

You felt as if all the life had just been sucked out of you. You didn’t see any point in living. You were merely an empty vessel among other vessels.

The news about your break up had been a headliner for about 3 days now and you couldn’t care what anyone thought anymore. You threw all newspapers you received in the bin, as soon as you saw your and roger’s name. Fred and John had come over with some chocolates and flowers feeling immense pity. They had even offered to take you out, but you couldn’t not in the state of mind you were in. Brian had also sent over a homemade loaf of bread which was really random but appreciated nonetheless.

You were doing your usual routine one night when a knock came from the door. You grumbled, getting up from your comfy seat. You sauntered towards the door, slowly and groggily as the knocking went on. You opened the door the see the devil himself, Roger.

You were shocked and on impulse, you slapped him hard.

It created a loud sound you were sure the whole complex heard, but you didn’t bother at this moment. He just stood there with his eyes wide open, holding the cheek you had slapped.

“oUch.”

He said rubbed it over again being in unbearable pain. You rolled your eyes not knowing what else he could possibly want. You stepped aside, letting him come inside and glared at him as he came in. “Sit down, I’ll get you an ice pack.” You said walking to kitchen and opening the fridge. Roger sat down on the sofa, the same sofa where you would both hang out with one another, snuggling against the cold.

Meanwhile, Roger was afraid for what was about to happen. He didn’t mean to just leave you hanging, but he didn’t want start a fight and get you into bigger trouble, so he and the rest of the queen just decided to leave the record label. They had all agreed they were shit. He didn’t mean to ignore you in the meantime, but it seems like he has fucked up big time. He got caught up in everything he was doing for you that he forgot you, yourself.

You came back with an ice pack and held it against his cheek, until he did it himself. You finally composed yourself and asked.

“Roger, what the fuck?”

“I deserved the slap, but I can explain further, if you’d let me..” He said raising his hand defensively in case you would strike again. You laid against the sofa armrest and crossed your arms.

“It better be damn good.”

“I didn’t want to get you in trouble so the band and I left the label. I know you said we could only tell one person, but I had to tell them so that they’d understand. I mean we were gonna leave them anyways ” You looked away, your expression softening.

“What I’m trying to say is that when I said our fake relationship was up, I meant it. I want our fake relationship to over.” You looked back at him, and took his cheek in your hand, removing the ice pack and placing your palm against his cheek.

“What do you want then, Rog?” You asked, the icy glaze you once had melted into empathy.

“I want our real relationship to start.”

He closed the gap between the both of you and kissed you like he never had before. You had both kissed many times in the past, but this one felt real, genuine and so much better. It wasn’t a show you had to put up for anyone. It was a moment to be shared by the both of you ONLY. Your lips were soft against his, and he instantly felt the sorrow and pain you had been through the past days, but all that was forgotten when he kissed you so sweetly. You felt like a volcano of flower petals had just erupted and you both were in the midst of it. You both pulled away to breathe for a second.

“I really really love you (Y/N).” He took your hand and intertwined it with his.

“Roger Meddows Taylor, you have no idea.”

So Maybe you were wrong. Maybe dancing in the moonlight was as romantic as it sounded. There were risks and dangers, but they all paid off. You just needed to have trust in one another, that was it. You needed to let fate do its thing and lead you to him as it led him to you. You just needed to trust that everything was going to be alright. You couldn’t trust yourself to fall in love, but now you did.

You were no longer dancing in the moonlight, but you were dancing in the sun and Roger was your sunshine.

~~~~~~~~~

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cutesuki--bakugou · 6 years

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Of course!! Thank you so much for requesting it be of them!! I haven’t gotten a chance to write Atsuki just yet, so this was a great opportunity :D I hope you like it!

“Katsuki, are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Koge eyed her husband with nervous suspicion, his nod doing little to persuade her. “Yes, Utsuro, I’ll be fine.” Bakugou chanced a quick glance up at her, currently working on getting a new t-shirt on his five year old son, who was wiggling about impatiently. “Daddy, let go! I have to get Sissy!”

Bakugou huffed, finally getting one of his arms into the shirt. “Atsuki, I don’t want you to throw your crystals at her in the house. In the training room only, I mean it!”

“It’s okay, Daddy, I’ll take him in there.” Natsuki called from across the room, leaning over the back of the couch as she fiddled with her older brothers hair. “Sorry I got him to throw them here, I didn’t realize they were that strong.”

Once done, Atsuki took off from his fathers grip, darting towards his older sister with terrifying speed. Ignoring them for the moment, Bakugou stood up straight, rubbing his face as he turned his attention back to his wife. Koge smiled up at him, cupping his cheeks gently. “You got this. You can always get Matsuki to help you round them up if you need, or just use your loud ‘dad voice’. At least Natsuki listens to that still.” Bakugou placed a hand over hers, turning his face into her palm to kiss it softly. “I’ll be alright, Utsuro. I can handle two pre-teens and a child.”

“You sure about that? Last time I came home after leaving you here with them, you were on the couch with a pillow over your face and the kitchen looked like a war zone.”

“That’s not going to happen again. Atsuki’s already gotten more control over his quirk, it’ll be fine. Now get out of here, Nene’s probably shitting herself because you’re late.” After sharing a kiss, Koge reluctantly pulled herself away from him, taking a quick moment to stop by the couch and address Matsuki. “Baby, please help your dad with the wild ones today if he asks.” Matsuki looked up from his book, leaning his head back on the couch to smile at his mother. “Sure thing, Mom. I’ll take them to the dungeon.”

“Good boy.” Koge pushed his bangs back before placing a quick kiss on his forehead, starting towards the front door. “Bye, babies,” she called to her children in the training room. “I’ll be back later!”

“Bye Mom!”

“Bye-bye Mommy!”

With that, Bakugou watched his wife as she vanished to the outside world, leaving him with their overly energetic children. Or well, two of them. Matsuki, at twelve, preferred to read his books and work on his art. He was nothing compared to ten year old Natsuki and the five year old Atsuki, who were both hyper and obsessed with becoming powerful. It was made even worse after Atsuki’s quirk manifested, a destructive power that had already ruined much of the house. Still nitroglycerin based like Bakugou’s, Atsuki’s differed in the way that it wasn’t restricted only to his hands. The child could create nitroglycerin crystals from anywhere on his body that exploded upon impact.

Sure, the explosions were minuscule at this point, more like small firecrackers, but the rate at which the child could produce them is what made them so destructive to basic household items. That, and the young boy was edged on by his older sister, who was constantly wanting to see his quirk and help him learn how to control it. Bakugou knew her enthusiasm came from her being quirkless, and if he were honest with himself, he was glad there was no jealousy or resentment between the two.

Stretching, Bakugou started making his way towards the training room, yawning loudly. “What are you reading, squid?” Matsuki glanced up at his father from his book, showing him the title as Bakugou leaned on the back of the couch. “It’s a book about an artist that starts going crazy in his isolation. It’s pretty trippy.” Bakugou nodded, looking over towards the muted television as Matsuki took the book back to himself and continued reading. “Sounds more like something your sister would be into.”

“Well, it’s not really scary, it’s more of a psychological horror, where you have to really get into it and try to differentiate between what is real and an hallucination. I tried to show her some of it and she said that it confused her. She just likes the gore.”

Bakugou gave a small scoff, standing up straight. “She’s a mess. It seems like a good book.”

“Want to read it when I’m done?”

“Sure, kiddo. I need a new book to read. Thanks--” He was cut off by the sound of squealing, Natsuki erupting into laughter from the training room. Knowing that Natsuki laughing was typically never a good thing, he pulled himself away from the couch and headed towards the ruckus. There, he found Atsuki sitting on the floor, a couple of his crystals shoved up his nose with Natsuki sitting beside him in the same state. Sighing, Bakugou made his way over, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Didn’t I tell you not to do that? What if they exploded in your nose, huh?” Bakugou knelt down in front of the young boy, taking the crystals from his nose. Atsuki whined and wiggled, pouting as his father squeezed his nose and bent his head back gently to check for missing crystals up his nasal cavity. Natsuki huffed, removing her own from her nose before her father had a chance to. “Daddy, it’s fine, they aren’t strong enough to do anything bad. And you have to hit them hard anyways.”

She demonstrated this by trying to make them explode by clapping them between her hands, with nothing happening from the impact. “See?” Bakugou glowered at his daughter, snatching those crystals from her as well before standing. “Natsu, you just aren’t hitting them hard enough. Watch.” Bakugou stood back a bit with the crystals in one hand, palm flat and facing up. Bringing the other hand down onto them, they exploded with the impact, making both Atsuki and Natsuki squeak in surprise. His palms being rough and calloused from his own quirk, Bakugou felt no pain, though he did show the children the redness of his skin the explosions caused. “See that? What if you were running around with crystals shoved up your nose and you fell flat on your face? That would be enough.”

Natsuki took her fathers hand, holding it closer to her face to see with a curious crimson gaze. “Wow, no welts or anything. Daddy, your hands are like leather.” Bakugou huffed, narrowing his eyes at his daughter as she completely ignored his point. “Natsu, that’s not what I’m trying to show you. Do not stick these crystals in your nose, in your mouth or ears or anywhere else. Understand?” Natsuki grimaced at Bakugou as she released his hand, reaching up to push some of her wild blonde hair out of her face. “What?! Daddy, where else would they go!?”

“Ew Daddy!” Atsuki mimicked his sister, even though he obviously had no idea what she was talking about. Standing, the child held out his hands, tiny crystals appearing in his palms. “Daddy, daddy, look how many I can make!” Bakugou sighed internally, holding his cupped palms beneath his sons hands to catch the overflow. “Impressive. Don’t make too many, you’ll make yourself tired. Oops, that was a big one.” He watched the larger crystal roll off his fingers and to the floor, glad it didn’t explode when it landed. Bakugou knew that the bigger they were, the more power they had, or at least that’s what he had observed. Still, he was curious to see how strong this particular one was, as it was at least two inches long. Handing the tiny crystals to Natsuki, he picked up the large one and stood.

“Want to test this one out?” He squinted as Natsuki tossed the small crystals up into the air, their size only enough to create soft pops as they landed on the hard wooden floor. “Yes!! Daddy, that one is bigger than others he’s made! We should do it in the new special room!!” Natsuki pointed behind her to a large metal door, one which Bakugou had yet to allow them into. After seeing his sons quirk, he knew that he was going to have to make a safe place for him to train as he got older. So, an explosion safe room was necessary, to protect the rest of the house. All the mirrors in the regular training room had been removed as well, for everyone’s safety. Now, with Atsuki making such large crystals already, Bakugou knew it was going to be time to use the new room.

“Alright squids, let’s go in. There aren’t any windows in there, so it’s dark until I turn on the lights, okay?” Bakugou couldn’t even take a step before both children darted towards the door, with Natsuki tugging at the handle. “Argh, Daddy, it won’t open!!”

“That’s because it’s locked. No one gets to train in here without me or your mother because we have the keys. Got it?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, though before he made his way over, he turned to call out into the living room. “Matsu, come in here, I want you to see the new room, too.”

Within moments, Matsuki came trotting in, curiosity on his face. “Huh? Oh, the new training room? I… really won’t be using it.” Bakugou nodded, motioning for his son to follow him. “That’s okay, I still want you to see. Besides, look at the size of this crystal your brother made. We should all see how big it is together. It’s important to learn about his quirk as it develops, so we can help him or look out for things that might be dangerous.”

“Oh… Yeah, cool. Sure.”

Although Bakugou couldn’t see his son as he unlocked the door, he could hear the forced enthusiasm and interest. Unlike Natsuki, Matsuki was harboring some resentment towards his little brother already. Not for the fact that he had a more powerful and unique quirk, but because of how differently the child was treated compared to him by everyone outside of his family. His parents, of course, didn’t treat one or the other with any more favoritism. But the public, other children, and even the press were marking Atsuki as a wonder child while still belittling Matsuki for his choice to avoid the hero life. It was something that was highly troubling to both Koge and himself, and he knew that they were going to have to resolve the negative feelings before it got too severe.

For now, Bakugou kept it in the back of his mind, holding open the door as the two younger children ran in. Matsuki walked in normally, and once everyone was inside, Bakugou shut the door behind them, swallowing them in darkness.

“Daddy, it’s dark!”

“Yes, Natsu, I told you it would be.” Bakugou reached over and flipped on the switch, light pouring into the room from the lights on the high ceiling. The siblings ‘oohed and ‘aahed’ at the sight of the room, Atsuki darting around the large open space. “So big! Daddy, this room was for me?”

“It’s for all of us. So we can all train together without having to hold back our quirks. Me, Matsu and you can all make explosions without being scared to hurt the house. Ah, well… You and Matsu can, at least. I probably should hold back.” Bakugou gave a snarky grin at his children as he bounced the crystal in his hand a bit. “If I didn’t hold back I think this place would be ruined in seconds.”

“Okay, Daddy, stop being a show off.” Natsuki snapped at him, hands on her hips as she tapped her foot impatiently. “Let’s see the crystal explode!!” Atsuki bounced eagerly, stopping in front of his father. “Please, please! Daddy, let’s see it!” Bakugou ruffled the child's white hair gently, urging him over next to him. “Alright, you three come stand next to me.” Natsuki stood on his other side, while Matsuki stayed a few feet behind them. After a quick roll of his shoulders, Bakugou threw the crystal towards the wall, though he wasn’t quite ready for the result.

The impact was equivalent to something that Bakugou could consider a mild explosion from his own hands. It was enough to make the two youngest children squeak in surprise, and even a small but quiet ‘shit’ escape Bakugou’s lips. That explosion could easily hurt a person to a small degree, and the fact that it came from a five year old was totally beyond Bakugou’s comprehension.

“Uh… Atsuki. We’ve gotta start training your quirk seriously… That was intense.”

Atsuki laughed, hands on his hips triumphantly. “Ha! I’m going to have the strongest quirk ever! Daddy, can we do it now? Can we? Please?” He grabbed onto his father’s hand, tugging it eagerly. Bakugou chuckled, squatting down beside him. “Sure, squid. But you have to promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t create crystals outside of this room anymore. It’s dangerous. No matter what Natsuki says. Promise?”

Atsuki glanced up at his sister, who was pouting with her arms crossed over her chest. Still, Bakugou knew the urge for him to learn was more powerful than his willingness to listen to his sister. “Yeah, Daddy! I promise, I won’t make them on purpose, but sometimes they still come out on accident.”

“And that’s okay. We’ll figure out how to control them.”

“Yay! Matsu, will you train with us?” Atsuki ran up to his brother, taking his hand. “Sometimes your quirk goes off on it’s own, too! Maybe Daddy can help you!” The child’s uncensored statement quickly brought a dejected look to Matsuki’s face, though it was quickly hidden by a forced smile. Still, Bakugou could easily see the frustration behind his pale blue gaze, even as he spoke so calmly to his younger brother. “You got it, Atsu.”

“You gotta learn too! You want to be a doctor, you have to be careful not to blow people up while cutting them!”

This time, Matsuki gave a genuine laugh, following his brother as he tugged him further into the room. “Ah, that’s true… That would be horrible, wouldn’t it?”

“I can help, too, right Daddy?” Natsuki stole Bakugou’s attention as she nudged him, wide grin on her face. “I swear I won’t put the crystals up my nose.”

Bakugou gave a sharp scoff, ruffling her hair roughly as he chuckled. “Of course you can, Natsu. I’d never leave you out.”

As all three of his children gathered in the middle of the room, chattering excitedly, Bakugou felt a sense of strong adoration for them all. They were all so powerful in their own unique way. Matsuki with his high intelligence and compassion. Natsuki with her strong will and determination. And Atsuki, though he was young, was charismatic with a quirk destined to be powerful enough to take on Bakugou’s legacy. He loved these children with every inch of his being, and though they could drive him insane, he would never want anything to change.

“Ah, Atsuki, we literally just talked about no crystals up the nose! Take them out!”

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steve0discusses · 6 years

Text

Yugioh Season Zero: All Your Friends are Cursed

You know what? It’s been a while, lets revisit Zero.

For those new here, I’ve been also very slowly going through Season Zero alongside the show we are more familiar with, which is not at all the same as the other seasons. If you want to read just the recaps of Zero from the beginning you can do that by clicking on this link right here. I think I’ve only done like 3 or 4 so far.

OK. It’s been...a time since we ventured here to this very weird place, where were we?

So, first off you may have noticed there was a wee gap in updating, this is mostly because I burned up all my backlog when I got sick for two weeks (and I’m still hella tired) so...I’m playing catch up and this is a hobby, so it takes a back seat. But also, it’s partially because I was like suuuper conflicted with what I should do about that logo. Like, I did feel like I had to blur it just because I don’t want there to be confusion if the images ever get pulled away from this post, but I was seriously considering just repainting every cap because it sure bothered me a whole lot.

It was Illustrator OCD Problems that in the end don’t matter, but you can see my quandary of the right corner in the rest of these. Anyways, thanks Team Millennium for the fandubs so I don’t have to cap over subs. Y’all did a good job, and I get why they need to watermark since like...it’s Youtube so every random bot channel is stealing any other video getting clicks.

Also, this took a while because it’s like over 60 caps long. These Season Zero episodes are just...so much content. They’re so much. And I thought this one handles some interesting themes, so grab yourself a snack, because this is gonna be a little bit of a marathon. I could split it into two but like...I don’t know where to split it, so enjoy. This post is basically a 2 for 1.

Anyway, Shadi’s back. I didn’t really expect for him to be back so soon, but he’s here with a vengeance. He spooks up on Grandpa’s old Egyptologist friend (who’s name I have forgotten) and this guy kind of already knows what’s next.

In this episode, as you can see from the title, everyone is gonna get cursed. Except Miho, but like, I tend to forget she exists. We start off with Yuugi’s Grandfather’s friend getting tossed out a window, which is sort of strange because you figure that this guy wouldn’t let a girl drown down a well for a rare coin (which was the Shadi metric for if you deserve to be eaten by a chair). But apparently we were wrong and Grandpa’s friend has actually been a jackass this entire time.

"Your friend has actually been a jackass this entire time” is another underlying theme of this episode. What’s wild is that Yuugi and his Grandpa are not at all surprised by this revelation, nor do they seem to mind.

Shadi says something cryptic, decides he wants a rematch with the alter ego of Yuugi Muto, and then has the weirdest plan of how to do it. The rest of this recap is basically all of Shadi’s master plan and it’s...pretty...something.

(read more under the cut)

Since we haven’t gotten a Miho episode, I haven’t really gotten a chance to learn what she...is. Right now she just seems like a G rated Cheryl Tunt. Which is probably incorrect, I dunno maybe this girl will end up being their savior but for right now she just kind of uses Tristan for favors and enjoys spooky stuff maybe a little too much. I’m not sure she’s even aware what planet she’s on.

Shadi’s also looking more and more like a bird this episode with the artistic choice to join the brow to the nose with a deep shadow like this. If there’s deeper historical meaning to that, I have no idea. Went on a little deep dive through Google to see if it matches from art and sarcophagi from Egypt and Greece but like...nah. You do get a strong thin nose on golden sarcophagi that can give it a really cut look since it’s usually covered in reflective gold, so that could be it. But overall, joining the nose to brow is something more modern, I think. Just our own touch to make him a spook.

And honestly Yugioh really does enjoy putting a very heavy shadow between the eyebrows, but usually in the form of lots of lines and not a solid black shape.

Youknow we’ve never had the chance to enter anyone’s mind space before. I kind of assumed that no one other than Yuugi even had one. So Anzu’s mind, shouldn’t be too ba- oh

Just take this whole sequence, put some generic lo-fi on it, and you have yourself a youtube channel. It’s amazing how, since the 90′s anime style is back into fashion, this bizarre sequence just hit so many good notes. Those pink and blue flowers matched with a silver metallic tree with weird purple fruit? Not gonna lie, that’s some good inspo material. Maye not the weird bird and terrifying 90′s sun--I don’t know why he’s here--but everything else? Shoot.

This hasn’t come up before and the only guy with G in his name that I can think of is Gozoboro and he cannot be this guy. Maybe just a reference to some comic book stuff because he does have a Superman shape to that G, but I don’t know comics well enough to know if this was a manga Superman parody.

PS now that we know that Tea’s mind is just a lo-fi channel, we now know that Bakura and Marik have just been hanging out next to a weird silver fruit tree, staring at a horrifying green sun and avoiding eye contact with one single green bird for basically this entire Noah arc. Assuming of course that a piece of Bakura is still in there in Tea’s mind, which he may have decided to vacate at this point because what’s he supposed to do in there? Do barre?

Maybe they both just do barre workouts in the tea mindfort while a parrot awkwardly watches.

So Shadi has been just hanging out in Tea’s head for how long? Like half a day now?

She really has always been the ghost uber. From the very beginning. Wow.

Also, speaking of vaporwave, the pink to yellow tint on the irises? A+. That could be your lo-fi thumbnail, easy.

Anyway we are blessed with another tiny Yuugi this episode. I think I’ve mentioned it before but I’ll mention it again, I love it when artists have to draw their characters as small as ants because then the characters are given their rawest, purest form. Which in his case is just being very squat and having hair with spikes.

And then Anzu somehow hides in this closet and tips over a bunch of beams at him. Are these cross country beams? What are these? I did water polo and swim team so I just have no idea what you land people did.

When beams don’t work out, Shadi sets in play the next step of his super evil and sinister plan. Please remember that this guy is a 5000 year old very scary ghost with crazy OP powers.

So then Shadi starts his third phase. So far we’ve had a bunch of poles and a basketball, what will be next? Will Anzu come up with two chalkboard erasers and start pounding them together to make a sick chalk cloud? Will Anzu step on the back of Yuugi’s shoe so his foot falls out? Will Anzu unzip his backpack when he’s not looking so all his books fall out? What dick move will Anzu do?

SOOOOOO

This is a thing that canonically happened in Yugioh.

It’s like finding out that Big Bird once violently choked out Elmo in Season One but now they’re good and they don’t want to talk about it.

Like...this is a lot and it’s not even discussed in this very episode!

The one time.

The one time they should have just ditched.

This is the one time you should just find a boat/blimp, smuggle yourself on board, and then play cards for a straight week with an evil psychopath. The one time.

No wonder they go out of their way to avoid this school for the rest of this show. They ditch just to survive their 1st year of High School.

So they decided to split up which...they’ve made worse choices, and only Yugi finds Tea. What would Shadi’s plan have been if anyone else was up here first?

Reminder that in the second or third episode of Season 1, Joey and Yugi came up here to reminisce the good ol days. I had no idea at the time that the “good ol days” involved being dangled on the edge of whatever this weird contraption is called.

Eat your heart out Jeffree Star and Rituel de Fille, Shadi here did black highlighter first. In 1999. And that nose is snatched.

Appropriately, Honda is still embracing his janitorial duties. Maybe that’s why he’s not a janitor anymore? Because he was getting tooooo into being a janitor? Like if you go janitor while being a zombie that’s toooooo much janitorial.

Another thing Season Zero does that may either be a limitation of their budget or just a limitation of their experience is that, unlike most foreign films, the pacing of the cuts are really quick. Like REALLY frantic. (And yeah I’m generalizing a lot when I say that Western shows and movies have quicker cuts, but lets just say that it’s true about 90% of the time. Not better or worse, just different.)

And like, this was the 90′s, a time period I don’t really remember, but back then we were into bizarre editing. It was a very experimental time in film because suddenly there were a lot of computer and filming tools available for a decent price and people kind of lost their minds. They were getting into doing tons of dutch angles and tons of filters and it was just a real...interesting time in film. It’s gauche by our standards but like...art kind of lives in the time period it’s from and you shouldn’t pull it out and compare it to our current standards too much because--welcome to 90′s Xtreme cuts. Docking something for being too 90′s is like saying that medieval art sucks balls because they didn’t want to use perspective and all their cats look weird. This was the time.

It’s just interesting to me that they decided to attempt to copy this frantic editing style into a cartoon when it’s normally done splicing together live action shots that were done with three+ different cameras. They planned out each cut in a storyboard and drew every frame. It was a lot of work. And it didn’t age well, which is a shame.

And it could have been that because this is a horror show, they decided to experiment. It’s a pretty edge show based on a pretty intense manga. But, it’s...interesting. Can’t exactly cap it, you’ll have to watch it for itself but it’s...interesting. And overall, I honestly feel like I can’t come to any conclusions about the direction that Season Zero editing has taken since I’ve only seen four episodes, so these are just my five cents, don’t quote me on it. I may take back this opinion a few episodes from now.

Y’all this was never told to us until like Season 2. Season Zero told us this in like episode 4. Would have been really nice to have this information a little earlier.

So then we introduce the mummy mechanic of this “game.” Anzu’s plank contraption is tied to these baby mummies. Kind of looks like they’re chocolate mummies you get from the Egyptian museum store. In fact, They might actually be museum gift shop chocolate mummies that Shadi shoplifted up after he killed that fat guy.

Not sure how he set any of this up, especially when he totally botched it with the beams and the basketball and the strangling, but somehow, Shadi got this complicated knot system all ready to go. Weird how Marik was the one on the boat when Shadi has like a degree in knots.

So I said this in the last episode but we get this reoccurring theme in Season Zero where Yugioh is a little boy learning to grow up and be a man, and yet every guy he meets has just a pile of toxic misinformation about how to be a powerful adult. In Shadi’s case, he believes that weakness stems from caring about other people and relying on them for support, hallmarks of mortality. Which is easy for Shadi to say because he’s some 5000 yo undead (I think?) with no friends, unless you count Chair Barney. But Shadi’s pretty sure that attachment to living people will only ultimately hurt you, especially when they’re complete assholes, which most of Yuugi’s friends are. They’re good assholes, though.

It’s a pretty common anime trope and I’m surprised it took us this long to get to the power of friendship. Freakin finally. And there’s nothing wrong with tropes. It’s how stories are made.

Anyways, in case you thought this episode would not address the teachers, they actually did for about 3 seconds.

Neat that this is the most unsafe school in all of Japan.

I am a fan of the combo of blue, purple, green, and very large teeth. I will give Chair Barney that much. Anyway, lets see what game Shadi made.

Oh cool, it’s the game I made to go in my babysitting kit when I was like 11.

Granted, so were playing cards.

Wow everyone is just assaulting each other this episode, damn!

Back on the roof, Yugi calmly wins the game without ever flipping a tile.

Now for some reason I missed the part where he says “two feet” and so I was missing a pair of things and so I listened to this part again and either my sick brain missed it three times (cuz y’all I have had the plague and my recovery has been so sloooow) there were these shapes on the tiles that looked like kidneys and I thought--but it’s not two kidneys, right? and I was like what else is a pair and round and lobby shaped? and then I didn’t really want to go there, and assumed--FEET.

Knowing full well feet are not kidney shaped, but I’m gonna assume he said feet. If he actually said weird monster testicles, you’ll be sure let me know.

And then this happened and it’s pretty legit.

We have never actually addressed the fact that Yuugi forced his friends to like him. Like it’s a pretty effed up origin story that Jounouchi was like like “I feel like very strongly I should be his friend” but doesn’t really know it’s because he got cursed. Kinda figured the show would just breeze by it, but no, here we are, and Yuugi has to face the fact that maybe the only reason he’s not a loner anymore is because he won Jounouchi as a prize for finishing an accessory.

And whether or not Jounouchi would have been his friend no matter what isn’t really what’s being tested, it’s whether or not Yuugi believes that this friendship is actually real, or a curse. Like Jounouchi did try to defend Yuugi before Yuugi finished the puzzle, but does Yuugi know that? He was passing out at the time. It’s a real insecure spot for Yuugi since before Jounouchi he was just a little punching bag playing board games alone in the homeroom. Jounouchi was introduced as someone who was legitimately bullying Yuugi and tossing that puzzle out a window. There’s going to be the underlying fear that Jounouchi would go back.

In the S1 anime, they basically wrote that plot point out of the show or decided that because this was done in Season Zero they don’t need to retread on old territory. Joey, Tristan, and Tea aren’t cursed to be Yugi’s friends, as far as I know.

But this test between the friendship of Yugi and Joey is recreated again in S2 with Marik when they were both tied to an anchor and one had to choose to kill the other or live. But there’s some pretty major differences. This time, instead of Joey being possessed by Marik and being forced to kill his friend, he’s just Jounouchi sans curse.

Although Jounouchi is still somewhat mind controlled as he is just an illusion. He’s just...not as badly mind controlled as the whole Marik thing. This Jounouchi has more motor control and doesn’t seem to have any inner conflict at all. Because again, this isn’t so much Yuugi vs Jounouchi, this is Yuugi vs Yuugi’s fear of being alone again.

That’s a realllllly different takeaway. And honestly, it’s pretty interesting.

Also, instead of Tea with a shipping container over her head, this time Anzu is walking a plank. Really didn’t expect that Shadi would basically turn into Marik but without the cards. And without the underground bunker lifestyle where he kills his own Dad.

The game is kind of hard to show in caps but they have to drop the puzzle in the direction they want the other to walk. Mostly it’s just another reason for Jounouchi to steal Yuugi’s puzzle again and relive the trauma.

Remember that time that Jounouchi tried to get Yuugi to punch him and Yuugi broke out in tears because he didn’t like violence? I mean honestly, out of everyone Yuugi knows. Jounouchi was probably the nicest bully he had. Doesn’t mean Yuugi isn’t incredibly insecure about it.

Instead of fighting back, Yuugi decides to skip his turn. It’s a contrast to the other Joey/Yugi fight because instead of just throwing a fireball in his own face until Joey snaps out of it, Yuugi has decided to rely on trust.

And, much like Grandpa’s Blue Eyed Dragon that would not perform under Kaiba’s reign to kill Yuugi, neither would Jounouchi under Shadi. They even disappear into the aether with the same smoke effect.

And what I think is the most interesting part of this is that the question of “so would they have been friends without the puzzle?” is mostly left open ended.

And if the friendship were solid as a rock, then this whole debate Yuugi has with Shadi wouldn’t even be a debate. Shadi is certain that people will betray you because they can, Yuugi is confident that, even though they do walk you to that ledge, they can change although there is a history of hurt. Shadi was convinced Yuugi couldn’t overcome his lonely past, and Yuugi had to prove that the past can’t hurt him anymore, the past being also his best friend.

Like it’s just something never mentioned in the S1-3, that Yuugi has a lot of issues because all of his friends have been his bully at one point. And like, not to get too PSA, but every friendship has to be looked at by a case by case basis. You can’t generalize and say “everyone who betrays you can change.” But the message here isn’t about keeping any relationship that is toxic, it’s about overcoming the pain of the past.

Also Jounouchi is hella cursed so he won’t be back to his old ways anytime soon.

Kind of hard to tell, but Honda got covered in a layer of white fire extinguisher juice and it’s a look that uhhhh we would never illustrate this way in 2019. Times were more innocent in the 90′s.

Just kidding, they absolutely weren’t, I have no idea who allowed Honda to be drawn this way.

Reminder that Kaiba is just sitting pretty in one of these classrooms, maybe watching Joey’s ass scrape up against the window while Honda completely covered in mysterious white stuff screams bloody mercy. As the teacher teaching this particular class ignores all of this, Kaiba would just be thinking to himself “Aw. that’s fun.”

And so ends this really long but honestly, pretty interesting episode. Season Zero has a lot of rough patches, like I’m probably not going to do every episode of it, but when it connects to what we’re watching its neat to compare and contrast the two. Kind of wish we had more of Yugi facing his past in the current anime but instead it’s Kaiba facing his past. So we...kind of get it? Just with a different character?

Shadi picks up his key and walks away unscathed. Mostly because Yuugi does not currently know how to mind-wipe. Seems that that is mostly a Pharaoh thing and as far as I can tell Yuugi is still just one person with an alternate personality.

Off he goes, that bastard.

Amazing that everyone’s pretty much on good terms with Shadi by the end of S1. Like he’s just kind of a pal that shows up and “accidentally” leads you directly to kill your own Dad when in Season Zero he is...really outwardly evil.

Anyway, that was a hellton of content haha, next week it’s back to Joey dueling a lawyer while Kaiba gets lost in the woods.

#yugioh #yugioh recap #season zero #photo recap #yuugi mutou #jounoushi #anzu #honda #shadi #genuinely shocked that none of them had to go to the hospital at the end of this one.#Despite being strangled like 10 minutes ago #yuugi muto

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chaniters · 6 years

Text

Into the frying pan

I just got permission from amazing artist @kruk-art to write some stories for Awan Cormac, so here is the first one. I’m so happy!

(Awan, the future Sidestep, has escaped the farm and is now trying to dismantle a criminal network for his own reasons)

Enjoy!

________________________________________

INTO THE FRYING PAN

It's easy to see their movements from your vantage position.

You take the plastic stick off your mouth and toss it away with the others, getting a new lollipop from the bag. You can never have enough of the stuff.

You check your notepad. It's all according to schedule. You've spent the last two days spying on them, and you've got a pretty good idea of how their setup works by now.

It seems to be a straightforward operation. Some of them are talking with the customers, others take their money and a third group makes the delivery. Their stash must be inside the derelict building on the opposite corner.

It's no wonder there's such a spike in hero-drug related deaths if these guys are selling it like candy in the middle of the day.

In just about a few minutes, the Crumpler will come in to collect.

That's when you strike. Catching him will be difficult, you're fairly certain he's a coward who will just try to run once you take out his henchmen one by one.

You scan over the adjacent buildings once more with your binoculars... just in case they have a lookout.

That's when you see it. A motorbike decorated with the ranger’s colors. You blink, incredulous, but it's still there when you take another look.

A man gets down and walks towards the drug-dealers.

You know him. It's one of the rangers. Charge.

He has a few words with the thugs... and...

You curse as he one of the thugs tries to punch him. Charge catches his fist with his hand, sending him down on his knees with electrical shock.

He's going to ruin everything!

The other thug calls for help, and some enforcers come at him. You can only watch as Charge faces them all.

You have to hand it to him, he's got some good moves, keeping them back he takes down several of them...

And then one of them hit him with a pipe on his back... he drives them off with his power, but you can see he's hurt. It's a mob of thugs. He'll win alright, but he's taking as good as he's giving. You can't believe he would charge in without plan like this. It looks so painful-

Oh. He Charged. Like his name. You facepalm.

And then he is covered by a red field, constricting him.

The crumpler's caught him. Go figure.

"Enough!" he yells with his screeching annoying voice while Holding Charge in place. The hero sends a burst of electricity against his energy cell, but the Crumpler holds firm.

"Charge? I didn't think you'd come to visit us so soon"

"And I didn't think you'd show your face after the beating I gave you last time"

"Oh thank you for reminding me! I had almost forgotten." The Crumpler walking towards the entrance. "Bring him in, and keep him entertained while I put on my costume. There will be... games" he giggles as he pronounces the last word.

"What?" one of the beaten thugs asks

"Did I stutter? BRING HIM IN!"

"But why don't we kill him right here?" he says waving a knife.

"BECAUSE THIS IS MY MOMENT YOU MORON! NOT YOURS! I'VE BEEN WAITING TO GET BACK AT THE MARSHALL FOR A LONG TIME! PLUS HE FRACTURED MY TAILBONE WHEN HE THREW ME OFF THAT WINDOW! I WANT HIM TO SUFFER!"

The criminals flinch at the mention of a fractured tailbone. You do too.

The thugs follow him, carrying Charge, still covered in that field.

Shit.

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

Charge struggled, but the field was too intense. All the while, the thugs chained him to a column.

It was a large room, with a few tables, chairs, and a broken down kitchenette. A door led to a room where the Crumpler had disappeared in.

"Not so tough now, eh sparkles?"

"Come here and say it to my face," he said sending a bolt that almost reached the guy in front of him.

"Hey, I don't need to!" the guy said getting a long stick. "We've got all we need to play right here"

The guy prepared to take a swing while the others just smiled.

Shit. This was going to hurt.

And then the window broke down, letting in a pair of round objects...

Charge managed to close his eyes right in time as the flashbang exploded. The other one was a smoke grenade, and it quickly started filling the room with thick fog.

"FUCK! WHO'S THERE?!" one of the dealers yelled

“Can’t see shit!” another yelled.

A shadow walked among them... It took one of the criminals by the neck, and pulled him back, for a takedown.

Some of them weren't blinded. The guy with the stick took a swing at the fog... and the fog took the stick away from him.

It was a young guy... with a coat and a bandana covering his mouth. He took down the thug with a succession of kicks... so fast he was knocked down cold in an instant.

Another two came from each side taking swings at him.

"Watch out!" Charge yelled. But there was no need. He simply stepped to the side, cocking his head to the right... and they punched each other's faces instead. As they walked groggily, he mashed their head together, sending them down.

Charge could not stop watching as he dodged the thrusts of the one with the knives. Left. Right. Down. Left... It was as if he had rehearsed this beforehand. Out of nowhere, the kid sent a palm to the crook’s chest, sending him a few steps back. As a follow-up, he jumped onto the wall behind him, took impulse and sent a circular kick to the criminal’s face just shutting him down.

Wow.

He wanted to help, but the chains were too damn tight.

A large hulk finally seemed to have recovered from the flashbang and sent him back, connecting a strong fist to his stomach.

The kid rolled down away and assumed a boxing posture.

Really? Boxing him?

The larger thug went all in for it but... this was on a whole different level.

The kid just kept dodging and taking swings at his face every time the thug missed. He was getting enraged with each beating, and his nose seemed broken. But then his rescuer made a mistake, and the henchmen took him and threw him against a wall by the derelict kitchenette.

"I've got you now you little devil!" he said picking him up from the floor again.

The kid took the pan from the kitchenette as he was lifted.

"Yeah. You got me, see if you can handle me" he said smashing the pan on his head... one... two... three times... and the guy was down.

There was a moment of silence... And then a screeching voice came through.

"Well crumple me this Charge! Prepare to be..." The Crumpler went silent as he came out in full costume into the smoking mess. "What the fuck is going on here? How did this..."

CLANG!!!

The pan flew straight into his face, making him stumble back against a wall. In a heartbeat the young guy was all over him, savagely bashing him with the pan.

CLANG!!

"Ghaa! Get off me!”

CLANK !!!

"STop ..."

"CLUNK"

"STOP IT!" he said falling down.

The red field seemed to be covering the young hero... and lifting him in the air as the Crumpler extended his hands and used his power to free himself...

But then it disappeared. The crumpler was out of it and his powers weren't responding.

The kid fell on top of the Villain with a last swing of the pan, knocking him down for good.

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

You breathe heavily, removing the bandana from your face, as you try to regain your cool

The Crumpler is unconscious, and you can sense no more minds around here...

You won? You can't believe you actually won.

Your hands tremble under the adrenaline rush, and you drop the pan down.

You are terrified.

That guy with the knives almost stabbed you at least three times. In fact, you've got a nasty cut on your coat for being too slow. That could be your intestines.

You've never been in such a brutal fight in your life, not even the hardest training at the farm compared to this. No one intended to be a frontline operative, even if you have perfect reflexes. That you liked practicing martial arts so much was considered an unnecessary distraction and they would often lower your recreation time because of it.

As the smoke clears, you can see the results. Six unconscious criminals, and one supervillain down as well.

Too bad you wanted to interrogate the Crumpler... he's out cold. You might still be able to get at least something, but it's hard to enter a brain when it's out of commission like this.

You focus... and finally manage to get the address to where he is taking the drug earnings. That should be your next stop.

Finally standing up, you head over to the door... you'll find a phone that can't be traced and called the police to pick these ones up.

You're about to leave when...

"Hey... uh... Pleased to meet you. I'm Charge... from the Rangers? Could you please untie me?"

What...? You feel no minds in here, how can... Oh! You are petrified as you notice him. You forgot about him. He's the reason you threw your plan off in the first place. He's there chained to the column. You can't trace his mind, that's why you forgot.

Nothing... there's just a low static hum.

Why... why can't you feel his mind? Is this some sort of trick? A trap...?

Are they after you?

What does it all mean? He's part of the government... And he can see your face without your bandana.

Shit. ------------------------------------

They stared at each other for a few seconds until...

"Nope." The kid said.

And then he ran through the door.

"..." Charge was a bit too slow to say something. "Mierda... so rude!" he mumbled in the end, struggling with the chains.

It took 20 minutes for the police to arrive and free him.

As he walked towards his motorbike he couldn't stop thinking about the young kid fighting them off with those perfect moves. It was like some sort of action scene in a movie. Not a single mistake... he just shut them down.

And then when he finally turned at him and their eyes locked on each other...

Charge shook his head.

"Ya necesitarás mi ayuda algun dia, y vamos a ver quien se termina riendo entonces, cabrón." He said to himself while stepping on the gas pedal.

It was common courtesy among heroes not to let your fellow masked crusader look like an idiot in front of the public. It could have been worse though. He could have called in the media instead.

Still, It wasn't the fact that he left him there for the police to find what annoyed him. It was the fact that he was blushing and didn't know why.

______________________________________

My Fanfiction: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #Awan Cormac #Ricardo Ortega #Fanfiction #@kruk-art #Hoping i hit the right note!

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classpect-musings · 6 years

Text

Classpect Analysis: Thief of Void

One slippery bastard coming right up. Info under the cut.

Active or Passive: Active

What they do: Thieves steal their aspect for themselves. Void is the aspect of mystery, irrelevance, misdirection, nothingness, obscurity, etc.

Passive equivalent: Rogue of Void (Roxy Lalonde)

Inverse: Page of Light

A Thief of Void steals Void or steals through Void. Thieves are usually overconfident (or act overconfident to hide their self-doubt), especially when they have their aspect, and need to learn to let others have their aspect, even if they believe that they alone are capable of handling it.

A Thief of Void would steal through Void, meaning they use their stealth skills in order to take from others. A Thief of Light (Vriska Serket) would flourish in the spotlight, but the Thief of Void prefers the exact opposite. They are masters of staying obscured from others, always creeping by in the shadows, nothing more than a specter in the corner of someone’s eye. They’ll always take the sneaky approach as opposed to straight up offensive tactics. They are a private person and tend to keep their secrets to themself. It’s likely that the Thief of Void would be kind of a mysterious enigma that people don’t know much about.

This Thief could also steal by making themself look irrelevant. They could infiltrate people’s lives by looking as unthreatening as possible, then stealing what they want (including secrets!), feigning perfect innocent and ignorance if confronted. They’d definitely be well-versed in lying. In fact, they might cast doubt on people’s information in order to make themself look innocent, and combining this with misdirection tactics, they’d be terrific at changing the focus to suit their whims. “You think I stole that vase? Are you sure about that? Maybe you didn’t get a good night’s rest and you’re seeing things. We should take you home so you can nap.” A Thief of Void can almost never be counted on to be honest, although they are experts at feigning ignorance or straight-up lying, so they could definitely be a con artist. They might even use a scapegoat, passing the attention onto someone else so they can make a clean getaway. Whatever the case, they’re excellent at leaving behind no trace of evidence pointing to their guilt. And if worst comes to worst, they could use blackmail-- after all, this Thief has no trouble getting to other people’s secrets.

A Thief of Void could also steal Void itself, meaning mystery or obfuscation. They could steal the mysterious nature from a secret and cast it into the open as a form of blackmail. They could do this with an object or person, drawing attention to their target and casting themself into the shadows.

Thieves usually start out not having much of their aspect, such as Vriska's lack of luck. But once the game begins, this Thief would get their hands on their aspect very quickly. They would feel extremely confident with Void and therefore would steal an abundance of it, hoarding it to themself.

The Thief of Void, as they develop, must learn when they should steal and when they shouldn’t. They need to develop some sort of moral code that keeps them in check so they don’t treat the people around them like assets. Thieves usually feel most comfortable when they have their aspect, so as the Thief of Void refrains from stealing Void, which would allow others to have it, they would struggle with being unconcealed from other people, as well as not allowing themself to infiltrate other people’s lives and steal their secrets out of habit.

An important part to note is the horrorterrors. Thieves are confident, so there’s a good chance that the Thief of Void will try to involve themself with the horrorterrors in some way, regardless of how terrifying those things are. They might try and steal the secrets of the horrorterrors, or they might try to steal the obscurity from the horrorterrors in order to fully reveal them. This would probably not end well for the Thief… But hey, this could give them character development!

Once they godtier, the Thief of Void will definitely be a force to be reckoned with. Similar to Roxy’s Rogue of Void powers, the Thief would be able to steal the ‘nothingness’ from an object, bringing something out of nothing. Unlike Roxy, though, they’d probably just use this power for themself. They’d also be an expert at espionage, seeing how they can steal secrets. On the flip side, they could steal obscurity/misdirection, allowing their teammates to see the truth. Perhaps they can steal Void in order to pop into it and appear somewhere else, which would compliment their stealth tactics well.

For a land, I suggest the Land of Tributaries and Tubes (LOTAT) for a Thief of Void. LOTAT is a series of villages on the many rivers, all flowing into several large lakes, each of which has a large town floating on its surface. The consorts, chameleons, float around from city to city in little floatation tubes, which is pretty adorable until you realize what they’re up to. The sun in this land has gone out due to the denizen; so, it is always dark, meaning the consorts can do as they please, whispering secrets and shady trade deals in back alleyways. This is because the denizen has cast this land into darkness both literally and metaphorically. There were once chameleon leaders who kept the lake towns in order, but they have been forgotten, cursed by the denizen to blend in with whatever setting they’re at regardless of whether or not they want to do so.

The Thief of Void will learn to use their skills properly in this land. They must learn when they should and when they shouldn’t steal the secrets of the consorts or use those secrets for blackmail. They should also steal the obscurity from the chameleon leaders, which removes the curse and reinstates them to power by bringing them back into the spotlight. Eventually, they will need to complete the ultimate task: stealing the essence of obscurity from the land’s sun and bringing LOTAT back into light.

As far as a weapon goes, this Thief might want something they can easily conceal, seeing as they’re more of a sneak attack fighter. Void players usually have the fistkind strife specibus, so there’s that. They might use poisoned darts launched from the shadows; the enemy would laugh, saying “Wow, just a measly dart?” and overlook the poison until it would be too late. They might also use small daggers or throwing knives.

Overall a very interesting title!

#thief of void #thief class #void aspect #homestuck #hs #classpect #classpect analysis #godtier #godtier analysis

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baneismydragon · 7 years

Text

Draw me Like one of your French Girls... Part 1

This fic is dedicated to @yunyin who was a big part of bringing it about in the first place ^_^ (Warning some spoilers for ML Season 2- (Just the stuff we knew during the hiatus nothing important from the new episodes)

“Listen furball, I am ten times as sexy as you are. That is just a fact. People would pay to see pictures of me.”

“People DO pay to see pictures of me,” Chat shot back.

“What?”

“Never mind,” he grumbled, “the point is that I am obviously the sexier of the two of us.”

“Guys, I know this is a slow patrol night but you are giving me a headache,” Rena Rougue sighed, dropping down onto the platform and sprawling onto her stomach against the cool metal of the tower.

“Wait,” Chat said with a terrifying grin, “Rena. My dear, darling, friend.”

“Oh this can’t end well.”

“You are a fox of impeccable taste are you not?”

“Maybe.”

“And you are an excellent judge of both male and female attractiveness as well, are you not?”

“Ladybug is the hottest out of all of you,” she smirked, not bothering to get up.

“Yes, that is a given, but the point is-”

“The point is that I could pull off sexy far better than this mangy stray,” Bee interrupted.

“Could not.”

“Will you two please just stop fighting, it’s been too hot to deal with this level of stupid,” Rena sighed.

“It’s not stupid, my honor is at stake!” Bee huffed. “If you want us to stop then tell him that I clearly would be better suited to being a sex icon than he would.”

“Foxy lady, please tell Bee that she is clearly pollinating the wrong flower.”

Rena groaned. Clearly there would be no reasoning with the two of them until this had been hashed out.

“Fine I will judge your stupid contest. We just get a picture of each of you and then we can decide who wins.”

Both of her partners eyes light up with an unholy gleam and then turned to face each other with a terrifying intensity.

“Ground rules-” Chat said, “sketches only, no color, has to be done in 48 hours.”

“Agreed. Also no professionals, they are too easily bribed.” Bee shot back.

“Um...Guys…”

“Agreed.” Chat plowed on. “Realism only no alternate styles.”

“Like I want some anime portrait you weeb.”

“Says the girl who marathoned Mai-Hime last weekend.” “I told you that in confidence you mangy cat! You are so going down.” Bee glowered lifting off the ground in irritation, her wings fluttering.

“You wish,” Chat purred.

“GUYS!”

“We meet back here in 48 hours and Foxy and LB vote on the winner.” Chat said, pulling out his baton and twirling it for good measure.

“Deal. See you then whiskers.”

And before Rena Rouge could even get another word out, both of her partners had disappeared into the night.

“I meant we could just take a picture on my phone…” she muttered into the silence. She didn’t look forward to explaining this to Ladybug before patrol on Sunday.

~~~

Marinette stretched as she finally stood up from her sewing table. She felt bad about having ditched out on patrol, but she had really needed to get this dress done for her aunt.

Besides it wasn’t like her partners couldn’t handle a night on their own.

“Well Tikki I think I am going to head to-”

She stopped talking as she heard a soft repetitive tapping against her skylight.

Well that couldn’t be a good sign.

She nodded to Tikki who quickly darted into her hiding spot in one of Marinette’s plants, and hurried up the ladder to her loft to let Chat into the room.

“Hey, stranger,” she teased, “so what brings you to my side of town? Don’t you guys usually have patrols on Fridays?”

“Been keeping up with the Ladyblog I see,” Chat said, dropping down onto the bed and flashing his trademark grin.

“That’s not an answer to my question,” Marinette replied, climbing back down to her main room with Chat on her heels.

“Eh, it was a slow night. Also I need a favor.”

“A favor?” Marinette asked, settling down into her desk chair and leveling him with her best ‘What did you do now’ stare. She really hoped she wasn’t going to have to help him break into the Louvre again.

“Don’t worry nothing illegal this time,” Chat said as if reading her thoughts and putting a hand over his heart, “just a simple project that you are particularly well suited for.”

“Am I making you cookies again?”

“No. I mean if you WANT to I won’t say no, but that’s not why I am here. I need you to paint me.”

“What?”

“Well, not paint. Draw me. Black and White, pencil, full body. As sexy as possible if you don’t mind. Oh and I need it by Sunday night.”

Marinette glared at her intruder.

“Oh that’s all?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much all I need.”

Marinette picked up a ball of yarn sitting on her desk and threw it at Chat’s head.

“You can’t just barge into someone’s house and order them to draw a pin-up of you.”

“I didn’t barge in, I knocked.”

“That is not the point, you still just waltzed in and expected me to draw you.”

“Well you do draw.”

“Yes fashion. Not on demand portraits.”

“I am also not demanding, I asked for a favor.”

“Yeah well my answer is no. It’s not like I sit around hoping for you to stop in so I can draw you as some sex god.”

“But you do think I am a sex god?” Chat smiled leaning in just a little too close and laughing when Marinette shoved him away with a blush. “Yes, I have so got this!”

“You haven’t got anything. You can’t just ask people for free drawings, do you know how much time and effort these things take! It’s not like I sit around drawing all day you know.”

“I can pay you.”

“Fine, I want a new serger. Top of the line.”

“Done.”

“Wait, I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t. I can have it for you tomorrow.”

“Chat those cost like 600 Euro. You can’t just waltz in with a high end serger.”

“Sure I can, we have like 8 of them lying around the East Wing,” Chat said with an off handed wave.

Marinette simply stared at him.

“So can you do it or not?” he asked with a pout. “I need an answer cause I only have 48 hours.”

“You’re serious,” Marinette said. “You are actually offering to bring me a new serger if I draw a portrait of you.”

“A sexy portrait.”

“Whatever.”

“Yes. Like I said, this is very important and I know I can trust you.”

“Wow, that’s… actually really flattering. Ok, in that case I guess I accept.”

“Great. So I figure we can meet up tomorrow for the actual sketch. You get done at school around 12 right?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Awesome. I’ll be here by 12:15.”

Marinette nodded and watched as Chat did some sort of odd victory dance.

“So are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“Oh it’s just a small bet I have with a friend. I am totally going to win though.”

“I guess it’s nice to know you have so much faith in me,” Marinette said.

“Well... I mean I was going to ask Nathaniel, but I figured that might get awkward with the whole sexy thing.”

“Wait I was your SECOND choice?”

~~~

Nathaniel was pretty sure he must have fallen asleep, because there was no other explanation he could think of for why one of Paris’ masked Heroines was literally crawling in through his apartment window.

“Ugh,” Queen Bee huffed as she awkwardly clambered into the room, “I know you are all bohemian artsy and whatnot but would it kill you to have bigger windows?”

He said nothing, simply staring as the heroine looked around his room.

“Well you certainly have enough stuff,” she said, gesturing towards the walls and desks cluttered with various art supplies. “Yes, you will do nicely.”

“Um… I am sorry, did I miss something?” he asked, blinking a few times for good measure. Nope she was still here.

“I need you to do me.”

Nathaniel jolted backwards, tripping on a power cable and crashing back into his drafting table.

“You need me to what?”

“Draw me. You know that whole art thing you do?”

“Oh, right… that makes a lot more sense. Actually no. No it doesn’t.”

“God, I knew this was going to be difficult. Ok. I,” she pointed at herself, “need you,” she pointed back to Nathaniel, “to draw a picture of me. By Sunday. I figure if you can make little miss goody goody pigtails look attractive this should be a piece of cake.”

“Okay,” Nathaniel said rubbing his temples in an attempt to starve off his oncoming headache, “either I have gone insane or you have, because I have no idea what you are talking about. Was there an akuma? Should I be looking for cover or something?”

“No, I just need you to draw me. And make it sexy. I mean I am always sexy, but it needs to be like extra sexy. Try not to drool on my picture. You’ll do great.”

Nathaniel was fairly certain he was the source of the oddly choked wheezing noise that sounded when Queen Bee patted him approvingly on the head.

“Um, Queen Bee…”

“Just Bee is fine. We have a working relationship now.”

“Ok, Bee… why am I drawing you, exactly?” Nathanael asked, side stepping away from his uninvited guest and sitting down on his drawing stool.

She blinked as if he had asked her to explain the current state of the geopolitical climate and not a simple question. “Because I asked you too,” she said.

Nathanael opened his mouth to argue that you can’t just tell an artist to draw you because they can, but realized that the girl currently thumbing through his portfolio could probably toss him one handed out of his previously acknowledged small window, and thought better of it. She could be under the influence of an akuma. It was hardly unprecedented after all for one of the heroes to get caught in the crossfire after a fight, and without more information it was best to stay on her good side.

“These are actually really good,” Bee said with a smile, and Nathanael felt his cheeks reddened at the compliment, “I always did have an eye for quality.” She shot him a playful wink and Nathanael wondered if he could die of embarrassment. If nothing else he was pretty sure that his skin was the same shade as his hair.

“Well, um… I guess I could draw you as a commission. It would cost-” he began, but before he could finish Bee’s whole face lit up delightedly and she squealed.

“I already thought of that,” she grinned, reaching into the small weapon satchel on her hip and drawing out a pile of bills that she slammed onto the table next to him. “Oh this is going to be so great! I can’t wait to see the look on his stupid face! So, we aren’t going to do the actual drawing here right? I don’t think the lighting is going to set me off to my best advantage.”

“That’s like 500 Euro,” Nathaniel gasped, staring down at the pile of money.

“Yeah, that should be plenty for a deposit, you’re not Degas you know.”

“A deposit?” Nathanael gasped.

“Yeah, I know how this works. You get the rest when we are done, I don’t want you going crazy with artistic liberties or whatever. This has to be perfect. We can meet up tomorrow at the park next to your school at the end of classes and go from there ok?”

Nathanael looked at Queen Bee, smiling like she had just won the lottery. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut that taking this assignment on was going to end up being a lot more complicated than just doing a simple drawing. His eyes drifted to the pile of cash. He really did need to replace his drawing tablet. Not to mention the other supplies he could purchase if she was serious about this just being a deposit.

“Oh what the hell,” he sighed, “where in the park do you want to meet exactly?”

~~~

True to his word Chat Noir arrived on her balcony promptly at 12:15, the promised serger in his arms and a devilish smile on his face.

“I trust this will meet with your approval? It’s supposed to be an excellent brand but my f- my supplier favors a different company, so this one was destined to collect dust for all eternity.

“I can’t believe you actually got me a serger,” Marinette breathed, trying not to drool at the exquisite piece of equipment that apparently now belonged to her.

“Well, shall we get started?” Chat said.

Marinette nodded and they both climbed down into her room.

“So,” Marinette began sitting down in her computer chair and grabbing up her sketchbook and pencil, “how exactly do we want to do… thi… Chat what are you doing?”

She watched, fascinated, as Chat rushed around her room with a strangely determined expression, adjusting curtains and angling her chaise lounger.

“We need some up lighting. Do you have- oh never mind I see one,” he said grabbing a clip light she had attached to the window by her dress form and repositioning it.

For about 20 minutes he moved, tweaked, and adjusted every available light source in her room. Then when he was finally content with his work he grabbed the back of her chair and spun her into position with a triumphant flourish.

“What was that?” Marinette asked, finally breaking out of the stupor brought on by his uncharacteristic behavior.

“70% of great composition is good lighting,” Chat said with the parroting tone of someone who had heard that phrase a thousand times.

“Do you work for a photographer or something?”

Chat laughed delightedly, “You could say that. So what sort of pose would you like me in mademoiselle artist? Remember we need this to be sexy.”

“Oh dear,” Marinette said teasingly, “I don’t know if I know any poses that can make pun loving nerds sexy.”

He glared playfully at her and pounced onto the chaise.

“Oh I know,” she continued with a giggle, “if we want to be thematic we should try to stay with the cat aesthetic, maybe have you lay on your back with your paws in the air!”

“Very funny princess.”

“Ooo! Or how about that thing where cat’s stretch and stick their butts in the air! I am sure your admirers would love that.”

“Well I do have a fantastic butt,” Chat smirked, “but this is actually very important. So how do you want me Marinette?”

Marinette ignored the nervous little flutter in her stomach at his phrasing and tried to think. After all, she was getting paid extremely well to do this and she owed it to her friend to try her best.

“Alright well why don’t we try a sort of, lounging pose? Try laying back or something.”

“Sure,” Chat said, his brow furrowing in concentration for a moment before he swooned back onto the chaise, one arm above his head, one leg dangling lazily off the lounger, and his face angled slightly up as he gave her a knowing, come hither smirk.

Before today, Marinette would have said that she knew just about everything a person could know about Chat Noir without compromising his identity. They had been partners for almost 3 years, he had been friends with her as Marinette as well for 2 of those. She knew his favorite flavor of ice cream, his ticklish spots, how to make him purr and that fact that he would always get embarrassed when he did. She knew how he liked his tea and that he would mouth along with his favorite movies. She knew he was kind. She knew he was brave. She knew he was sometimes oblivious and prone to occasional bouts of jealousy. She knew he was easily entertained and would literally die for the people he cared about if it came down to it. She knew that he was a nerd with a terrible sense of humor. What she hadn’t known- or at least hadn’t truly understood on more than a hypothetical level before this very moment- was that Chat Noir was also very, VERY sexy.

She stared open mouthed at boy… man… ridiculously pretty cat thing in front of her, her pencil hovering uselessly over her sketchpad. He stayed perfectly still, all lithe lines and easy grace, as if sprawling on a couch looking like he was waiting to be devoured by hormone riddled females was his day job.

Where was her rambunctious, guileless partner, with his over-wide smiles and constant fidgeting? Who was this intense, restrained, gorgeous figure that had taken his place? And was there any way she could get a refund on her sanity?

She heard a soft thud and her cheeks flamed as she realized she had dropped her pencil.

“I donnow, I don’t think I am feeling this pose,” she babbled as she scrambled to retrieve her fallen pencil and calm her frazzled nerves, “Wh..why don’t you try sitting up? Maybe something more… I don’t know… uh… formal?”

“Okay,” Chat said with a shrug, completely clueless to the mental and emotional roller coaster she was experiencing as he adjusted into a new pose.

He sat forward on the edge of the chaise, one leg tucked up while the other foot rested lightly on the floor. One hand propped lightly against his knee while the other braced against the couch. This time his head was slightly tucked down, his brilliant green eyes looking up with a captivating gleam and his lips softly curved in a half sheepish, half hopeful smile that was somehow five times more devastatingly appealing than the smirk had been.

“This better?” he asked without the slightest trace of sarcasm or suspicion.

“Yeah… great,” Marinette gulped.

“Okay! Make me sexy princess,” he said, his grin widening for just a moment before falling back into his pose.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Marinette muttered. Ignoring the heat she could feel rising in her cheeks, she began to sketch.

___

Nathaniel wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved when he saw Queen Bee trying, and failing, to hide herself behind a tree in the school courtyard.

Several of his other school mates had already caught sight of the hero and were giggling amongst their friend groups or pulling out phones to grab some pictures.

“Psst! Nathaniel! NATHA- ugh- I’m over here!” She began frantically waving him over, clearly struggling not to resort to shouting at him.

Nathaniel bit back a smile as he watched the out of place superhero, clearly oblivious to the stares and whispers she was garnering. The lack of stealth was actually rather endearing. He was almost tempted to pretend that he didn’t see her just to see what she would do, but decided it wasn’t worth it to press his luck with someone who could probably pick him up with one hand.

He hurried over and as soon as he was in grabbing distance found himself hauled into a nearby bush.

“Oh good you’re here! So Nath, can I call you Nath?”

“Um… no?”

“I’m gonna call you Nath. So anyways Nath, I have the perfect place for you to work, it will be a much better atmosphere than your cramped little bedroom. I assume you have everything you need?”

Nathaniel blinked. “I have a sketchbook and my pencils, but-”

“Perfect! OK! Let’s go!”

“Wait what do you- OH MY GOD…” and without any further warning Nathaniel found himself desperately clinging to his new patroness as she lifted them both effortlessly into the sky.

The next few minutes were a blur for Nathaniel. I was fairly sure that Queen Bee had yelled something at him, but it was drown out by his own occasional scream of terror as they zoomed horrifyingly close to chimneys, spires, and even one particularly menacing looking (at least at the time) clock tower.

By the time they landed at their destination his vision was blurry and he was trying not to throw up.

“See, here we are safe and sound,” Bee said happily. She slapped him on the back and Nathaniel staggered forward.

“Jeez, you really don’t like flying do you? Sorry. I’ll go slower next time.”

“Next time…” Nathaniel wheezed, allowing Bee to pull him forward from the balcony and through the large glass doors.

“Here, sit. Let me get you some water. That’s what you want right? Water?”

“Water would be great,” Nathaniel said, letting out a long breath as she hurried off to complete her task. Now that he was no longer in fear of being dropped to his death, Nathaniel allowed himself to relax and catch his bearings.

He looked around the large suite, noting the impressive amount of natural lighting, the lavish furnishings… the very familiar furnishing.

He stood up, rushing over to the other side of the room. Sure enough, there was a large king sized canopy bed, complete with the Ladybug plush pillow and a small, well loved yellow bear.

“Nath? Nath, where did… oh, there you are. I have your water,” Bee said, holding out the glass with a smug little grin.

“OMG You’re Chloe,” Nathaniel said.

“What,” Bee said, her voice taking on a familiar shrillness, “no I’m not, why would you say that?”

It was like a lightswitch had turned on in his brain. Now that he knew everything seemed so obvious. How could it be anyone BUT Chloe. She had her looks, her voice, her mannerisms. Nathaniel had drawn dozens, maybe hundreds of pictures of all of the five heroes, yet somehow he had never made the now obvious connection. It must have been some kind of magic. It was the only thing that made sense. Either that or he was the world’s biggest idiot.

He was going to go with magic.

“You’re Chloe,” he said again, mostly because his brain was still trying to process the fact that one of the beloved heroes of Paris was actually the school’s reigning queen of terror.

“Of course I am not Chloe! I mean… that would be stupid. Plus, Chloe is like, really busy being fabulous and probably out buying those amazing Dulci pumps I’ve been meaning to grab for forever.”

“Really?” Nathaniel said skeptically.

“Obviously,” she said with a dramatic flip of her hair, though her voice trembled nervously.

“We are in your room,” Nathaniel pointed out flatly.

“Yeah, so?”

“So I’ve been to your room before Chloe!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she insisted stubbornly. “Besides everyone says that this Chloe person is really mean. And I’ve been nothing but nice to you. I’m a hero.”

Nathaniel felt his heart soften a little in spite of himself at her vulnerable tone. He stared at Chloe, so many things clicking into place now that he knew her secret. Her continued obsession with Ladybug, her complete turn around on her opinion of Chat Noir whom she had always been dismissive of back in their first year of college. Her slow but steady attempts to be nicer to everyone in the school who wasn’t named Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“You know Chloe has actually gotten a lot better these days,” he said cautiously.

“You… you think so?” she asked breathlessly, and Nathaniel couldn’t quite hold back a soft smile.

“Yeah,” he said, and she beamed. The smile lit up her whole face and for the first time Nathaniel caught a glimpse of Chloe hiding behind all the pride and hostility. The Chloe Adrien had always insisted was buried deep down waiting for a chance to come out. It seems he had been right.

“You know,” he added “Adrien was even mentioning it the other day, how it was nice that people were getting to see you as the friend he’s known for so long and not just the class bully.”

He watched amused and Chloe puffed up with pride, her smile melting into her signature smirk.

“Well I would hope so! Given how much work I have put in to following all his stupid rules about proper behavior, including the one where I’m apparently not even allowed to brag about the effort I am putting out, the least he can do is make sure that everyone is appreciating... “ she trailed off and looked at him with a wide eyed, horrified expression.

“Appreciating what, Chloe?”

“Oh crap…”

___

Well I hope you guys have enjoyed this so far!

I was going to finish the whole thing and post it in one go, but A. Its way longer than I meant it to be and B. The middle section that I am trying to clean up is giving me burn out so I need some positive reinforcement lol. Anyways I am still working on in even as I post this so more might go up today, it will probably all but up before the week is out lol. Anyways hope you liked it so far! See you soon!

#my fanfiction #my writing #DML fic #Marichat #Chloenath #humor #zag spoilers

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bygosscarmine · 7 years

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Worlds Apart - Chapter Eight

find previous chapters here: [link]

a W: Two Worlds retelling/fix-it fic (Oh Yeon Joo x Kang Chul) - rated T for now: some disturbing images

Backstory Can Be Killer (1467 words)

Yeon Joo couldn't help reading the manhwa volumes with a critical eye now, invoked both by seeing Kang Chul in his own world and by her father's frightening rant. And what she saw now troubled her. Kang Chul existed in a world that both cocooned and brutalized him.

He was driven by the idea of discovering who killed his parents. He had chosen vengeance, rather than dying, at the lowest moment in his life. It was funny she hadn't really thought much about that, once he'd gotten caught up in building his broadcasting company W5, and trying to outwit the prosecutor-turned-statesman who kept trying to shut him down. Assemblyman Han was also more sinister, in rereading, considering how often he was behind attempts to blacken Chul's name. His conviction that Chul had killed his own family seemed almost demented, but Yeon Joo saw this time that there was no good explanation for the deaths. If Chul couldn't trace the killer, with all the resources and motivation he had, no wonder the prosecutor who knew the most about that case was sure he'd just lost his man.

Did Dad have a plan? Why was he just killing Chul off? Was it because he couldn't figure out how to write a proper ending for W?

She finished up with the chapters online. Yesterday's post had been taken down, and a formal apology made for it--but some enterprising netizen had taken screencaps and posted them on a blog. Yeon Joo blushed watching herself try to surprise Chul--for a second she thought her fever was coming back. Then she caught herself both wincing and grinning at the image, of her kissing the hero of the manhwa, and realized what was really happening.

She was getting out her old sketchbook, too, when her mother came into the house, talking with someone who sounded an awful lot like her father's assistant.

"Yeon Joo. Were you sick last night?" her mother said, coming to her door.

"I wasn't feeling well, but it wasn't a big deal," Yeon Joo said. "Tell Soo Bong to come in here."

"I will warm up some soup for you," her mother said, by way of reply.

"Why are you home so early?"

"I was worried about you. And your father. I contacted Soo Bong here, and will send him with some soup, as well."

Yeon Joo tamped down annoyance that her mother was still taking care of her father Well, he did contribute to their household bills. "Thank you."

Soo Bong came in looking tentative, but was reassured by her sparse room, with a wall of medical texts and reference books rather than a lot of personal decor.

Yeon Joo showed him the image in the sketchbook, since she had it out. She felt awkward about showing it to a professional artist, with the many redrawn lines and clearly mimicked style. He immediately understood what she was showing him, though.

"Wait, this is your Kang Chul? Master Oh mentioned that you used to draw, but he didn't say anything about this."

"Soo Bong. I think I am able to go into W because I am a creator of it, too. So maybe that's why Dad was gone. Where else could he have been?"

"I still don't really believe this," Soo Bong confessed. "But I guess I have to try. So you're saying that if Kang Chul exists, you and your father both had part in it. So both of you are able to go?"

"Dad said last night that Kang Chul turned on his creator. Meaning Dad. I don't know what he means, but if Chul was able to drag me in to save him...then he's right. Dad is trying to kill him, but Chul is saving himself."

Soo Bong thought about this for a moment, then shivered, and hugged himself. "That is so freaky!" A thought seemed to strike him. "Wait, so--when you appear, Master Oh isn't drawing it. How is it updating itself? It even looks like his work."

His face had a terrified fascination at the idea.

"If we take a scientific approach, it makes a certain sense. W is real, we have to take that as proven. Also, our actions affect what happens in that world. So my father's art is part of the logic of that world. The world W is formed by that hand. You sometimes draw objects in the manhwa for dad, and you make them fit his style, right?"

"Right."

"How do you do that?"

"I have to alter my strokes. I mean, by now I pretty much draw more like him than myself. It's an assistant cartoonist's quandary--you work to get experience to do your own work, but meanwhile you're suppressing your own style..."

"Right, so you can draw something in a way that fits Dad's drawing style. And most readers won't notice even if it's different. So it's possible the scenes appear that Dad wouldn't draw, but are created by the logic of how he's drawn in the past."

"So, how does it look? In the W world? What does Kang Chul look like?"

Now he was accepting the W reality as granted, Soo Bong was going into fan-mode.

"He looks like the manhwa, except more real somehow. I mean, his face is ridiculously small. But he's not as soft-looking. I know Dad doesn't have a cute style, exactly, but Kang Chul always looks a little..."

"Like this?" said Soo Bong wryly, holding up her picture of a manhwa dream-boy.

"Yes. But in real life he's got more...pores. Veins. Bones."

"And you kissed him," marveled Soo Bong.

Yeon Joo caught herself covering her mouth and flushing--and Soo Bong also looked like he was blushing. Wow, they were nerds. She covered how foolish she felt by saying, "It was just for a second. It worked. Which brings me to another point--Kang Chul is the hero. And when I did something that surprised him, the episode ended. I came back here."

"What brought you in the second time?"

"I'm not sure. That first time he pulled me in. This time I was going to talk with dad about it, and just ended up there."

"But your scene with him at the hospital wasn't long enough to fill an episode," Soo Bong said.

There was a silence, then Yeon Joo couldn't help herself any longer.

"Do you think I look okay in the manhwa? Does that look like me?"

"Look okay?" scoffed Soo Bong. "You look amazing. You look nothing like you."

He almost instantly realized what he'd said, and hurried to say, "I mean, in 2D it becomes so much more obvious you have great cheekbones. And I'm not sure I've ever seen you with your hair down. I mean. Today it's down, but..."

"I haven't brushed it," she said drily. "Yes, very observant. Thank you."

After a moment, Soo Bong frowned and said, "So what this suggests, logically, is that because you had a hand in making him, you also have the power to enter into W. Without you consciously meaning to. So maybe Master Oh did as well...but he didn't say so. And we don't see him in the manhwa."

"No," Yeon Joo admitted.

There was a moment of pondering.

"Soo Bong," called her mother, "come get this tea."

Yeon Joo wanted to leave her room, though, so she went to have tea in their kitchen. The conference about what was happening with W was at an end, anyway. Part of her was still wondering if she'd go back to Kang Chul's side--and if so, what he'd think of it.

This was like being fifteen all over again. A crush on a manhwa character, really?

"We found her," So Hee said as soon as Chul picked up her call. "When I was inspecting the shop, she was there."

"Are the police there yet?" he asked.

"No. I called you before calling them."

"Then let me handle it."

He hung up. He was still on the road, so he pulled a U-turn and headed back to the shop.

By the time he got there, though, a police car was rolled up to the storefront, lights going. Chul parked carelessly on the curb, and stepped out of his car. An officer was bundling Oh Yeon Joo out of the shop and toward the cruiser. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she was wearing sweatpants rather than the dress. So Hee emerged behind a second officer, frowning, her arms crossed. When Chul strode her way, she held up a hand to warn him.

As little as he liked it, he joined her without speaking to the officers.

"We can handle this," she said, voice low. "If we don't press charges, they'll have to release her."

#W Two Worlds #W Worlds Apart #fanfiction #kdramanetwork #W #kdrama

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tigerlover16-uk · 7 years

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Thoughts on DBS Chapter 32

Oh, this is going to be fun to talk about. And by fun, I mean UUUUGGGGHHHHH!

* I liked the introductory scene we got of Caulifla, but apart from that I don’t really like how Toyotaro handled her. We get this set up that she’s some strong and intimidating gang leader that controls her own territory on Planet Sadla, and that the military can’t handle her. Which, alright, that’s good. It was curious that her followers mostly seem to be a small group of hooded women in this version, rather than a bunch of muscular male thugs like in the anime. And apparently there are children living in her settlement? That leaves me with a lot of questions I wouldn’t mind seeing answered.

However, I really don’t feel like Toyotaro sold her as a fighter. She beats up some random soldiers, and we get a transition shot of her kicking Cabba into a mountain, but then Cabba just goes Super Saiyan and kicks her butt, and it ends in Caulifla cowering against a wall as he stops short of punching her.

Like... I get the intention was to make her want to transform to get her to fight in the tournament, but the anime did that just fine by having Cabba just blast away that one guy by powering up. We don’t even get to see Caulifla powering up, we’re just told she did that off-screen with ease.

It honestly makes her competence as a fighter come off as an informed attribute. I mean, excluding Note from Dragon Ball Heroes (Which is as supplementary and far from canon as you can get, so I don’t count it), Caulifla is the first super saiyan woman in the franchise. Why did Toyotaro feel the need to trivialize the significance of that so much?

(Then again given how he wrote Bulma and Future Mai last saga, and Chichi and Videl’s practical nonexistence in this manga, I’m starting to wonder if maybe Toyotaro just has a problem with women in general... I’m terrified to see how he handles the Kamikaze Fireballs)

* I don’t know how to feel about Kale in this version. We didn’t see her transform before the tournament, which I guess isn’t necessary so whatever. She seems more brooding and her meekness is toned down a lot, and apparently she’s really fast in her base form. I guess some people might find this more appealing, but it leaves me wondering what exactly Toyotaro’s going to do with her.

Also, I don’t like how it’s Cabba who wanted to bring her to the tournament in this version. Here Caulifla seems less confident in her abilities and saying while she has promise she’s “Not quite there yet”. For the problems the anime had with Kale’s handling, her relationship with Caulifla was something I really did like, so this has me a bit worried.

Also, I feel like it was a waste that we still don’t really know anything about Kale’s backstory so far. That was the main issue with her portrayal in the anime, where we didn’t have enough set up as to why she’s such a depressed person and building up her and Caulifla’s relationship to properly sell why she would have such a meltdown when she thought Caulifla was abandoning her. Everything else would have been fine the way it was if it was built up better, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected Toyotaro to catch on to that.

* I see everything from episode 89 was cut. Which, I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, I’m glad to see the stuff with Yurin and Master Roshi’s antics go. That was just uncomfortable on too many levels and not needed at all, so good riddance.

But I miss the detail of Tien having his own Dojo now. While the anime gratuitously undersold him as a fighter, Tien opening up a dojo and training his own students was the most significant character progression he’d gotten since the end of the original Dragon Ball, and honestly I feel it left him in a much better place than the Buu Saga did, where he and Chiaotzu had just apparently become wandering hermits who never see any of the other characters anymore, which I always thought was just unsatisfying.

In the manga, he just kind of shows up, with Roshi even commenting that he never expected the two of them would ever be needed for anything ever again (Hey, Toyotaro? Trying to be meta isn’t always a good thing, especially if it effectively advertises that they supposedly don’t really matter in this story)

I appreciate we didn’t see Tien get slapped around so much at least, but if his contributions to the tournament end up being as minimal as they were in the anime, then he’ll effectively be left with nothing in this version.

* On a similar note, Master Roshi doesn’t get any build up either. We don’t have any indication that he’s gotten stronger, we don’t see him training to overcome his perverted instincts, and we don’t get that nice moment with him and Korrin. Which is just disappointing.

I mean, the bit with him and Puar was uncomfortable yes and I’m not completely sad to see it go, but unlike the Yurin nonsense it at least served to show characters actually preparing for the tournament, that the minor characters have their own part to play, and overcoming his perverted nature counts as a bit of development for Roshi to show just how big a deal his role in the story was to his character.

Here he’s gotten nothing so far, we only know he wants prize money to renovate Kame House. I’m really nervous Toyotaro’s going to screw up his big moment in the tournament now.

* We also barely see anything with Frieza, and all the cool moments with Frieza selling him as having gotten smarter and a lot more cunning and effectively selling him as being back better than ever are cut out in favour of a joke about his and Goku’s negotiations “Not going well” and them showing up looking beat up. Also Frieza is the one who doesn’t want to hold hands in this version. It’s just... so unsatisfying and the way it’s set up makes his inclusion feel obligatory because it’s in the story outline.

I mean... it’s not even clear that the image training he did allowed him to overcome his stamina problem as golden Frieza, it’s just said he got stronger. What the heck? Isn’t Toyotaro the guy who just loves adding little details to things the anime glosses over?

* Either Toyotaro forgot to include Goten’s name when 17 said it, or Trunks is the only one guarding Android 17′s island in this version. Marron is nowhere in sight.

I mean, okay I get leaving her out, but why Goten too? Toyotaro just loves excluding and marginalizing the Son family, doesn’t he? On that note...

* We don’t see ANY of Gohan’s training with Piccolo. He just shows up (Wearing Piccolo’s purple gi instead of Goku’s. Because of course, gotta pander to the “Piccolo is his real dad” people I guess), says he’s excited to be fighting with Vegeta again (Notice how there’s no interaction between him and Goku in this version so far?) and it’s commented he looks like he’s improved.

Just... wow. I know we make fun of how fast and how much he seemed to improve in the anime, but at least the anime TRIED to give Gohan an arc and make him feel like a significant character. The writers actually TRIED giving him some good development and natural character progression that was really interesting. Here, Gohan just feels like as much of an afterthought as everyone else so far not named Goku, Vegeta and to a lesser extend Android 17. And I’m pretty sure that’s only because Toriyama specified that his scenes had to happen in a certain way to properly re-introduce him.

* What the heck!?!? We didn’t get ANY set up for the fighters from the other universes except Toppo, Jiren, Caulifla, Kale and somewhat for Dyspo I guess? Even the other Pride Troopers were just background fodder in their one scene, including Kahseral. This is just straight up admitting that every other new character in this tournament is just scenery who just exist to pad out time. What the heck!

* Also, instead of wanting Krillin to be in the tournament because he’s a good tactical fighter, here Goku just says he should join because he’s small and good at running away (Viz tried to soften it by having Goku say he runs fast, but the intent is still clear). Way to bow down to the memes and make a joke out of one of the series most important characters while not giving him any character development or having him get stronger and becoming a full time martial artist again, Toyotaro! Are you sure you’ve actually read Dragon Ball, and you’re not just a TFS fanboy!?

Okay, look, I can go on. I mean, I really can, because there’s a lot of stupid and lazy stuff here. This legitimately feels like one of the chapters out of the manga’s Battle of God’s saga, where Toyotaro was just abridging the story as much as he could to get to the Champa saga.

In conjunction with the other two “Build up” chapters before the tournament, everything feels so slap dashed and phoned in, like Toyotaro didn’t put any effort into making the story interesting or fun, or even trying to make it feel like any of the characters except Goku, Vegeta, Jiren, Toppo and the Saiyan girls had anything going for them in this story.

I honestly never want to hear any more complaints about the pacing of the anime version after reading this, because this was insultingly lazy! It barely feels like there’s an actual story going on, there’s no tension or dramatic weight to ANYTHING in this chapter. Everything here feels like it was just ticking off boxes of stuff Toriyama said to include in the outline so Toyotaro can just get to the tournament ASAP. It’s that pathetically lazy.

I refuse to put up with anyone telling me that the manga version of this arc is so much better than the anime rendition, because literally ALL of the best parts were in the anime and weren’t included here. The only thing that feels slightly more fleshed out is Jiren, which great that he has more personality, but that’s NOT ENOUGH to make up for everything else that wasn’t included!

This was by far the worst, laziest chapter of the manga I’ve read in a while. All it’s missing was another one of Toyotaro’s nonsense comments about how Goku doesn’t know where babies come from.

Dear God, this blows. I really didn’t expect to get this angry writing my thoughts on this, but I have just had it with Toyotaro. THIS is the man Toriyama supposedly picked as his successor, people. GOD help us all!

#dragon ball super #dbs #dragon ball #dragon ball z #toyotaro #dbs manga #dragon ball super manga

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kootenaygoon · 4 years

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So,

Ed wasn’t acting like himself.

I’d been working alongside him at the Star for nearly three years at this point, and I’d never seen him lose his cool in any significant way. He rarely raised his voice, was known for long thoughtful pauses, and always addressed conflict calmly and head-on. But now he was acting squirrelly, like he was harbouring a bothersome secret, and I had the sense that something bad was about to happen. It all seemed to be stemming from my handling of the Kessa situation. We’d called off the story about her death over the weekend, but not before having a lengthy and heated phone conversation outside the church about it.

After the funeral I’d chatted briefly with Kessa’s godfather, who gave me her typed-up eulogy and seemed game to participate, but we’d since received word that the family didn’t want coverage. I’d been both disappointed and relieved at the decision, because I’d been feeling unsupported and overwhelmed by approaching a story of this magnitude.

“You know, I saw on Twitter this morning that Black Press published a new fentanyl story out of Victoria with this teenage soccer player. Big interview with the Mom and everything,” I said, arriving to the newsroom on Monday morning.

Ed shrugged, his face dark.

“I’ve been thinking about this since Saturday, right? Like if we’re going to keep covering the fentanyl beat, we’ve gotta figure out the right way to approach this. Because a lot of these families want to keep this shit as secret as possible.”

Ed turned in his chair, and cleared his throat. “Listen, we can talk about this at some point but not right now. We have other work to do, and I don’t want to waste any more time on this. Is that understood?”

I blinked a few times. “Sure, I guess.”

“Now you have that interview scheduled this morning, correct? I’m going to be in court, so I won’t be able to accompany you like you asked. But I think you should be able to handle it on your own.”

I nodded. Really, I’d been stressing out about my upcoming #MeToo story all weekend. I was thinking about a Rolling Stone cover feature about a college gang-rape that had recently been debunked, with journalist flaying the offending reporter for her failure to fact-check her witness. I was scared the same thing would happen to me if things went sideways. My approach was to have the women share what happened without naming their assailants, so that the focus wouldn’t be on the veracity of what happened but the aftermath they went through reporting the assaults to Selkirk College and Elephant Mountain Secondary. That being said, I had been hoping Ed would back me up to show solidarity and ensure we were doing everything by the book.

“I think I can handle it,” I said. “If you’re busy.”

He nodded curtly. “Good.”

Once Ed collected his stuff and vacated the office, I spent a few minutes staring blankly at my computer screen. I was endlessly replaying the events of the weekend in my head, from visions of me sobbing in the back row of the church to sitting in the Nelson Police Department getting the story from Sgt. Nate Holt. He described for me how he’d encountered Kessa a few days before her death, and was there when her body was found. While he trembled with anger, clearly devastated by the experience, I noticed that her file was open on the screen beside him. I quickly scanned the information and the pictures, learning way more than I wanted to know. I had the feeling I was tumbling down a rabbit hole, but there was no Wonderland at the bottom for me.

I took a deep breath. Laela and Mharianne were supposed to meet me at the office any minute, and they deserved my full attention. I had to banish this Kessa spectre from my mind and focus on the real live women who were being brave enough to share their experiences. She’d slipped through my fingers, but they wouldn’t. I was determined to produce something meaningful about rape culture, almost as penance, following my column from the Friday edition. Both of them had been underage when the abuse occurred, making their message that much more impactful.

Ten minutes later, once I welcomed Laela and Mharianne into our interview room, I assured them that I didn’t need to know any more about the specifics of their assaults — both of them had individually described to me what happened — but I wanted to hear about the events that followed, and how they coped. They were both approximately 20, innocent-looking but strong, and I admired how determined they both were to contribute. I set my phone on a table between us and invited them to share one at a time.

“You feel really isolated and alone, because it feels like if you bring it up everyone will look at you differently,” Laela said.

“When I went through what I did, it’s not that I don’t think the school tried to make a difference in the aftermath. But just because of the social stigma that exists around these topics, it felt like the school wanted me to be quiet, and we just wanted to keep going like everything was going to be okay — which it was — but the mental end was really hard for me.”

While she spoke, Laela sat prim with her hands in her lap. I’d seen her perform at multiple venues around town, marveling at her virtuosity. She’d introduced me to a song called “Redbone” by Childish Gambino, and performed a killer rendition of “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye. Since interviewing her at the pro-choice event I’d been increasingly wowed by her sense of moral conviction.

“I want to get the message out that this is in high schools, colleges and small towns — I want this to be more open to discussion, which will take away the fear and social stigma I experienced. I did come forward with the story, but on my end I was really scared. I was mad, but I didn’t want to ruin anybody’s life,” she said.

“I feel like fear made me bury what happened to me, and that probably happens to lots of people. I wouldn’t say I’ve overcome the fear, but the more I’ve been able to talk about it the easier it is to move forward with my life.”

Next I turned to Mharianne, who had been my makeup artist when I performed in Rock of Ages. She was sporting freshly dyed hot pink hair and elaborate makeup, which was her passion. She’d initially reached out to me via Facebook while the community was discussing #MeToo online.

She seemed tentative at first, shyly looking at her lap, but eventually she began to confidently describe an escalating situation in high school that she’d reported to administration and felt was ignored. She was concerned that an overpowering boy in her class was a continued physical threat, and found another classmate who was willing to go to the police about it.

“Two of us came forward to try to get the ball rolling so we could have some comfort going to school, and I was told it was brought into a meeting. Then I heard there were people being forceful about getting our names out, which was terrifying to me,” she said.

Her fear: “I thought people would say I was crazy, or they wouldn’t believe me.”

She recounted a vivid memory of him approaching her during class, and being frozen in place. She had a previously close relationship with her assailant, and that’s something she believes people don’t realize — quite often the people responsible for sexual harassment or assault are close friends or family members.

“This person had shown so much aggression towards me that I was actually nervous being around him, and I didn’t want to be in the same school as him — and that was a whole year.”

The school administration brought in a speaker and led the group in a team-building exercise, but McKeeve was disappointed that “the one person who should’ve been there wasn’t.”

Once the interview was over, I informed them that I was planning to connect with the principal and the president of the two institutions involved next. Though neither institution could address their specific stories, they could speak more generally about the evolving policies around sexual assault, and the lessons that had been learned. They were both tearful and thankful as we wandered outside to take their picture. We wandered across the street to a small creek, where I found a leaf-strewn bank that would make a good back-drop. I asked them to pose side by side, their faces reflecting the seriousness of the story.

“Mharianne,” I said, “maybe you could lean against Laela, so you guys are connected. It kind of shows you’re supporting each other, right?”

Looking through the lens, I knew I had the perfect image. I was starting to feel giddy and high, bouncing back from the dark place Kessa and Ed had taken me. I may not have been able to tackle that particular evil, but here was another story I could really believe in. I hadn’t written anything of this magnitude before, and already I knew what a giant splash it would create. Beads of sweat collected in my hairline as we hiked back to the main intersection, shook hands, and then parted ways.

As I tromped back into the office I knew that If I approached this right, it could easily be the most powerful story of my career.

The Kootenay Goon

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modosphere · 7 years

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Now I’m Standing Alone: A Dara Drabble

Surprise! Bet you didn’t think this was coming out tonight...

Apologies for it taking so long, but its been a long, kind of difficult and infinitely more exhausting week and this (fingers crossed) will be the hardest one to have written - so I should be better with the others!

Remember, there are other instalments to come... And like Tinkerbell, I need applause to live, so please let me know what you think (ask/submit boxes preferably, that way I can save them!) and hopefully it’ll keep the creative wheel turning for a faster follow-up ;)

Happy reading! And I hope you all like it!

Bonus: shout-outs to my returning anons (hey guys), the anons who’ve been asking after/encouraging me with this drabble and @franklyineedcoffee for entertaining the mess that was my creative process when writing this!

- gawaine xo

The Kensington Hotel South Kensington, London 2041

She looked super hot.

And that wasn’t Mara being biased - objectively speaking, she looked smoking. Better than she’d ever seen herself look. The kind of hot that warranted winking at your own reflection and taking an obnoxious amount of selfies.

It was… A shame. A shame that it would… Go to waste, she guessed? Like, yeah, okay, people were still going to witness the hotness in question - a damned honour, really -, but not enough to be… Appreciated.

The wedding tanking was more likely to be the topic of conversation, come the end of the night.

Samara thought she’d feel… More conflicted. More lost. The (supermodel) reflection in the mirror… Was a stranger. Samara Zafar, to-be. Someone who didn’t exist. Who never would.

She felt a surprising amount of pride at that reflection, and as she tilted her head slightly, Mara gave herself a small, albeit sad, smile. It had been a good run. One Hell of a performance. In an odd way, she was sad to see it over - she’d made friends, had a family. Jesus, she’d even had Danyal Zafar be the closest thing she’d ever had to a best friend and whilst that was, wow, wow, so truly fucking pathetic… That would be gone, too, in a few hours. Maybe even less than that. One thing she and Dany hadn’t planned, was the exact timeline of the evening.

Mara checked her phone for the time - the car would be arriving soon - and so, placing it back down and turning to her reflection again, Mara surveyed herself one more time for all last-minute checks.

Her wedding outfit wasn’t the most conventional, which, given the true nature of her and Dany’s relationship, Mara found funny more than anything else. Instead of the full, traditional outfit of dark red decked with gold, Mara had opted for a slightly modernised version.

Her skirt was white and decorated with red stones and gold thread, flowing elegantly from the waist and swaying slightly every time she moved; and the blouse was the opposite, a velvet, burgundy affair with long sleeves, decorated intricately at the ends with more gold thread and tiny pearls. The neck was high and the rest of the blouse plain, allowing the focus to be the heavy, layered gold necklace hanging from her collar.

All of her jewellery was like that, heavy and majestic - a large, sun-shaped ring on her hand, a matching hair piece pinned to the side of her head to hide the bobby-pins. And with Mara’s full lips, high cheekbones and straight nose all thrown into high definition by some excellent makeup artistry, and her loose, dark brown curls pushed gently to one side… Mara looked like some kind of sexy Asian medieval princess, with a twenty-first century twist. Mara snorted happily to herself. Given the Zafars’ standing as social royalty, maybe that wasn’t so shocking.

The best part of the outfit was something she couldn’t even see - the fact that the blouse was backless, aside from a small pearl clasp at the base of her neck securing it in place.

And yeah, sure, there was the option to clasp it more, but given Mara’s bra size being completely at odds with the size of her shoulders, all fully clasping it would achieve was Mara asphyxiating, and that was of no help to anyone. Anyway, it was… Sexier. It was hidden anyway, behind a curtain of Mara’s hair and then the scarf pinned over her head, white and gold like her skirt. But Mara knew it was there, and Danyal was probably going to seize when he saw it -

Samara’s smile immediately disappeared and she looked away from the mirror, blinking back sudden tears. What was she crying about? Being stupid? Running away with her vanity?

It didn’t matter how good she looked. It didn’t matter what Dany thought - she gripped the table, her black nails digging into the wood -, because he wasn’t going to see it, nobody was, because by this evening, everyone would be applauding the new Mrs Zafar and that wouldn’t be her.

Which was fine, whatever, fine. Fine. It wasn’t like… She’d never wanted to be that, that hadn’t been the plan.

What if your plan was wrong?

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Mara snapped at her reflection, pointing at it angrily. “No. Shut the fuck up. You - you made this decision, you-” Mara sighed, her eyes temporarily closing in resignation. She couldn’t look at herself for the next part. “You made it clear, you told him-”

Except had she, really? It was on odd feeling, to feel as if you knew someone - their thoughts, their intentions, the very words that were about to leave their mouth - without having proof. Without truly knowing.

That was why she hadn't entertained… It was why she’d been so abrupt with Danyal. Even if he had just been talking in hypotheticals - and that was a possibility, she didn’t know -, she couldn’t think like that. Not… Now, not so close, not when her head was in such a mess. Not when she was filled with so much doubt.

Not about the wedding. No. Of course not! How could she? She couldn’t be…

It was fear, that was all. Fear of the unknown. Fear of committing a homicide, when her aunt inevitably started gloating about her failed marriage. Fear of finally being… Free, without the consequences.

Mara had wanted that for so long. To be free, independent, able to make her own decisions, without slamming the few doors open to her closed. But now that it was here… It was weakness, probably. Or complacency. She was filled with doubt because she’d gotten so used to her gilded little cage, that anything beyond that was terrifying! It was the brainwashing.

She was fine. She was. She knew where these… Fake doubts were coming from and she was handling it, it was… Fine.

Sighing to herself, Mara leant forward in front of the mirror, checking her makeup. It was made to look like she had some sort of natural glow but, of course, this close, it looked anything but. It was all about the eyes - perfect eyebrows, perfect eyeliner, perfect eyelashes and perfectly hidden eyeshadow (from a distance). The makeup artist had told that she’d wanted Mara’s lips to look like “an overdose of pomegranates” and Mara could only assume she’d managed it, because she didn’t know what else to call the matted colour on her lips, apart from maybe attractively bruised, which… Didn’t sound alluring.

One thing Mara could appreciate for certain, was the paradox of the whole thing. The face of an innocent, glowing young bride, the outfit of a princess, a super-sexy braless outfit once her veil was removed. Talk about split personality personified.

Of course, looking like some kind of regal portrait was costing Mara… All sense of comfort. She literally felt pinned taut, and even blinking caused something to pull. The top of her head felt like some kind of bridge support, thanks to the various clothes and jewellery items pinned to her skull - and thank fuck the skirt was meant to trail slightly, because in heels, she would’ve toppled over after the first step. She was wearing white Adidas trainers underneath her skirt instead.

She was allowed to take shortcuts! After all…

“It’s not like it’s your real wedding.” Mara joked to her reflection, not sounding particularly convinced. Good to know she could rely on herself for a pep talk.

Her phone beeped - and Mara caught the message that quickly flashed onscreen. It was her uncle. He was on his way up.

I don’t know if I can do this.

Nope! No psychoanalytical bullshit today!

Jogging slowly on her tiptoes and stretching slightly, careful to make sure the weight of her scarf didn’t snap her neck in half, Samara closed her eyes and took long, slow breaths.

“You’ve got this.” She told herself, before staring at her reflection. “You have got this. Get your shit together, bitch, freedom is on the horizon.”

There was a tap at the door.

“Samara!” Her uncle called through the door. “It’s time to go!”

“Coming!” She shouted back - before staring, wide-eyed and terrified, at her reflection one last time. The next time she’d be in this room… It’d be all over. “Shit. Yes. Okay.”

She was about to enter an art gallery full of important, influential, powerful people… And lie to them. Lie to them about who she was, about being in love with her fiancee, about wanting to get married, and then lie some more by saying she was heartbroken to not marry her fiancee, after his ex stormed the stage, demanding his love and attention.

It was fine. Cool. No problemo.

… Shit.

Liaquat Ali Khan Airport Islamabad, Pakistan 12 Days Ago

Dany twirled the warm, white box between his fingers, staring disinterestedly at the small crowd huddled over by the Arrivals door... Before looking over to the small, ignored hallway in front of him. Still empty.

It felt like just yesterday that he’d been here with his family - and Mara’s - after the engagement. Dany’s mouth lifted into a small smile as he remembered the look on Mara’s mamaani - aunt’s - face, at seeing them suddenly jump out of the car and disappear for a few hours. Mara had told him afterwards that her cousins had said she’d almost had an aneurysm.

It was his last day in Pakistan before the wedding. Technically, it should have been the day before - but with Samara landing for her final fitting before the wedding, Dany thought it’d be… Nice. He was only travelling over the border to India; first to see how Ari’s preparations for the walimah, the after party, were going at the haveli in Punjab; and then onto to Delhi, to leave with Raj for his stag.

It was weird to think that the after-party Ari was planning would be for a different bride than the one whose name was on the invitation.

Because you’re stupid.

Dany paused, frowning slightly, and stopping his fidgeting.

Dany refused to pay much mind to the little voice in the back of his head, or the uncomfortable squirm that tended to come with it. It had been happening… Too often recently, and for no reason at all. It wasn’t worth the effort.

He glanced around again, sighing to himself. The small shop selling freshly brewed tea in the corner, the racks of picturesque post-it cards, the announcement boards, the various corridors leading off into different parts of the airport, the hallway…

The young woman walking down it towards him, a security guard at her side.

Dany quickly rose to his feet - and seeing her smug smile as she stopped where she stood, raised his eyebrows as part of their silent, secret language.

Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?

One eyebrow raised, Samara nodded to the white box. She’d had a similar one, when she’d welcomed Dany and his family during their first trip - and she was touched, if not teasing, about the sentimentality of it all.

As Dany walked towards her, he could feel her eyes scanning him from head to toe; his slim-fit, light blue trousers and matching tunic, the collar undone and the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

He didn’t understand that Samara was thinking back to when she’d been waiting for him; how she’d seen him with messier, fluffier hair from the heat just like today, but stretching and his sunglasses threatening to fall onto his nose from his forehead as he did. How she’d almost laughed at how adorable he’d looked.

But as the distance closed between them, Danyal fell back into habit - and once again, he found himself mentally acknowledging that there were prettier girls in the world than Samara Kayani. More naturally beautiful girls, better groomed girls, more fashionable girls. In fact, the women Dany usually found in his social circle were as close to aesthetically perfect as a human could be… Whereas Samara? She didn’t fall into that category.

Oh, Mara was beautiful. Anyone with eyes could see that, and that was Dany being objective. She had to be. Even with a fake bride, the famous Danyal Zafar was expected to have nothing less. But Samara’s face was riddled with imperfections - and that was what took Dany by surprise each time, because on anyone else, that was all they were. Imperfections. But on her… They weren’t.

Samara had a perfectly straight nose, cutting a side profile like a piece of art; but because of it, it was almost too perfect when seen head on, too… Proportionate. It was almost unsettling.

Her lips were full and pink, but the bottom lip was fuller, giving her a constant pout, however accidental. When she wasn’t wearing makeup - like most days she wasn’t going out, including this one -, you could see the tiny beauty spots dotted across her face. One on the right side of her nose, near the middle, another one on her cheek on the same side. She smiled with her teeth, which were white and straight, but not perfectly straight - when Dany had once asked why, Mara had scathingly informed him that she’d never worn braces, in a way that clearly told him to shut up - and her skin, fairer than Danyal’s or any of his siblings’, easily became flushed and rosy after just a few seconds in the sun. Her eyes were wide and large and brown, framed by long and thick dark eyelashes, almost too doe-eyed for Dany to comfortably accept. Too... Innocent.

He saw these imperfections every time, analysed them, tried to see them in a new light - and always came to the same conclusion: that it was a part of Mara’s undeniable charm. Samara’s face was beautiful and glamorous, yes, but it was raw, and real, and with imperfections that made her seem more… Imperfectly perfect than her airbrushed counterparts.

But it didn’t mean that Danyal understood it - how she could exude that, so effortlessly. At first, he’d studied it, but now, it was just… There. It was all he saw. One look at Samara’s face and you knew her and, if you already did, you truly knew her. She made you feel safe and happy and seemed like the most pleasant and loveable person in the world… Until she opened her mouth and sassed you into next week, oftentimes doing so in a way that had you smile at being roasted more than anything else.

He could see it now, as she stood in front of him; in jeans and a tunic covered in funky geometric patterns in bright colours, her hair tied into a ponytail and her sunglasses propped on her forehead. It was… Effortless. But the security guard holding her bag still looked smitten, stealing glances at her as if she were a painting instead of a person.

It wasn’t creepy, the security guard’s look - it was just… Filled with awe.

When Samara wanted to be, she was a pretty friendly person.

Dany’s expression became a mix of amused and confused as Mara’s expression immediately became arrogant, upon facing him.

“Why’s your nose up in the air?” He asked in Urdu, laughing slightly. Mara pretended to toss her hair back dramatically.

“Because clearly I’m such an important, glamorous, special person that I’ve resurrected chivalry from the dead, to have one guard offering to carry my bags and you bringing me food.” Mara grinned.

With a sigh, Dany turned to the security guard.

“Thank you.” He nodded, shaking his hand - and, Samara knew, slipping him a tip with it. The guard nodded, handing over Samara’s duffel… Before offering Samara a polite, but happy smile, before leaving. Samara waved. “Your friend?” Dany asked dryly.

“Everyone is my friend, with the exception of you.” She said happily, plucking the white box from his hands. She thought for a moment. “And possibly your mother.”

Dany decided to ignore that last comment.

“Wait a second,” Dany hesitated, as Samara began to walk towards the main doors. He looked around. “Where’s your uncle?”

Dany motioned for her handbag - which Samara dutifully handed over -, but Dany’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she avoided his eyes, fidgeting with the box. In a way, Dany was glad she hadn’t opened it yet - inside was one of Mara’s favourite desserts, jalebi, a dessert made of sugar, flour and light spice that presented itself as bright orange, oddly shaped pretzels. Samara was obsessed. Once the box was open, he was probably going to be ignored until she realised she’d inhaled it all.

Realising Samara’s lack of an answer was an answer in itself, Dany began to mutter under his breath, the two of them resuming walking.

“He promised you.” Dany said irritably. Beside him, Samara shrugged, prying open the box. “You’re getting married in a few weeks-”

“As far as he knows.” Samara muttered, breaking off a small piece of jalebi.

“Exactly.” Dany huffed. Upon reaching the front doors, the warm Pakistani air hit them, humid and smelling of petrol - and Samara followed, as Dany quickly found the Awans’ chauffeur in the crowd. “He said this was the time you were going to spend together - hi -”

Mara offered the chauffeur a polite smile, waiting until he’d taken her bags from Dany and they were following him out to the car. Then, deliberately quietly in the hopes her voice would be lost under the loud traffic of the car park -

“He bought me jewellery instead.”

Dany paused in the street, his eyes narrowing… And even though Mara rolled her eyes at his melodrama, she smiled slightly. It wasn’t shocking that Danyal had a protective streak - Mara had seen enough of him with his siblings and Raj -, but it could still be… Surprising, when aimed at her. Even if she’d seen it before.

“Oh, relax.” She sighed, slipping her hand underneath Dany’s arm. Although disgruntled… Dany sighed, allowing her to lead him to the car. She fed herself with the hand tucked under his arm. “It was pretty jewellery and Mamaani probably had heart failure when she saw it-”

Dany said nothing, removing Samara’s arm out from under his as they crossed the road. His hand hovered protectively over the small of her back instead as they crossed and, upon reaching the car, slipped easily into it, the doors already open for them.

Dany tried to… Shake it off. It wasn’t Samara’s fault that her uncle was a weak asshole and her aunt an insecure cow. Dany thought it was ridiculous, and stupid, and unfair that Samara’s family treated her like some kind of… Leper, especially when she and her cousins were so close - but clearly, it wasn’t something Samara wanted to discuss, so Dany shut up for the sake of her mood.

“Honestly, you need to stop being so sensitive.” Samara sighed - but happily, Dany noted, as he only grunted in response. Dany nodded as the chauffeur shut the door behind them. “And anyway, it’s probably a good thing - we need to… Talk strategy, one more time…” Dany raised an eyebrow as Mara hesitated. “You know, before.”

Danyal looked down, grimacing slightly as his stomach… Did that thing again.

… Whatever. Mara was right. They had to focus - if it all didn’t go to plan next week, all of their planning, months and months of lying… It would all be for nothing.

Dany flexed his fingers as his stomach twisted even harder than before.

“That’s why I brought you a snack, I guessed we’d have work to do.” Dany mumbled. Once the driver was in the car, Samara happily offered the box - and although he declined, he smiled warmly at Mara as he shook his head. The charm offensive wins again. Dany sighed to himself. Considering this was meant to be a pleasant reunion, he suddenly just felt… Tired. “I thought we’d visit the office-” He began - only to stop and raise an eyebrow, upon finding Samara struggling to push her sunglasses from her nose onto her forehead without using her sticky fingers. Apparently, they’d fallen.

It was like watching a bunny trying to put on a hat.

Pointedly, Dany removed the glasses from her nose and gently placed them atop her head. “You okay there?” He asked sarcastically.

Mara simply shot him a happy smile, before nodding. As ridiculous as she was… Dany couldn’t help his smile back.

“You know,” She said conversationally, between bites. “I can’t believe this is our final trip to the office? I mean… It’s here, you know?”

His smile faded.

They glanced at each other then, and for a moment, Dany thought he saw - well, something he surely couldn’t identify, because that would mean acknowledging it within himself. No, he was just being… Sentimental. Pakistan had that effect on him - although culturally there was often little difference, owing to the drastic differences in population, Pakistan was always… Quieter. More peaceful.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.” Dany said honestly. “Our last trip to the office.” He repeated quietly.

“I meant the wedding, too, but… Yeah.” Mara mumbled.

There were a few seconds of silence.

“So, where is everyone?” Mara said quickly. She hated silence. She and Dany… They didn’t do silence.

“Ari’s still in India with Raj, making sure the walimah stuff is all ready. She’s flying down tonight and then I’ll take the jet back to meet Raj in Delhi.” Dany blinked as Samara snorted quietly. Suspicion immediately coursed through him. Was she unhappy about his stag plans? He’d cleared them with her beforehand, they’d agreed it was a good idea… “What was that for?”

Samara shrugged. “What?”

Dany fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew her better than that.

“The-” Dany did a casual imitation of the look of judgement that had briefly passed across Samara’s face. “- that.”

“Nothing.” Dany knew she was lying. He knew her, remember? Not just at face value. Plus, judging by the all-too-innocent lilt of her voice… Mara wasn’t going to be able to keep her opinion to herself for much longer. “I just… I hope Divvy appreciates all of the effort Raj and your sister are going through.” She shrugged, before frowning. Dany stared, unsure of what to say. When had Divya become a part of their conversation? “God. Have you actually worked out a way to warn Raj yet, or are you still going with just hoping to dodge his punches until he tires out when the shit hits the fan?”

Dany knew she was just trying to distract him - but it worked, and Dany grimaced at the thought of yet another difficult decision. He was Aman Zafar’s firstborn. He already had a whole lifetime of difficult decisions to make.

“Dodging punches.” He said reluctantly. They were peeling out of the airport car-park now, and if it weren’t for the bumper-to-bumper traffic and rising fumes, Dany would have cracked open a window. The air in the car felt thick and heavy. “Anyway - I… Have time. They’re all too busy with their conspiracy theories.”

A thickness that suddenly felt… Uncomfortable, as Samara laughed - before beaming at him with a carefree smile.

Dany fidgeted with his collar, ducking his head down to hide how Samara’s smile was infectious - and how confused he felt at being so quickly infected. Wow. He really was being sentimental. If he’d realised Islamabad was going to have such a profound effect on his ability to think logically, he would have left yesterday.

“Right.” Samara nodded, oblivious to Dany’s sudden discomfort. She didn’t need to ask who they was - she already knew; Pixie (because once Mara had found out Annie hated that nickname, was she ever really going to call her anything else?), Zarina and Raj. “That we’re secretly falling in love and the stars are aligning and that everything will work out happily ever after in the end?”

Dany hummed, making Samara laugh some more. It was a nice, tinkling sound.

“I think you and your ex have a different happy ending in mind.” She remarked, shaking her head as she returned to the box for some more jalebi.

It wasn’t the first time they’d joked about the others’ obsession with their romantic futures, because it was funny, that they were all so desperate for fiction to become fact. Maybe even a little concerning, given how Samara and Danyal didn’t hide how difficult pretending to be a couple could be for them.

But this time… Although Dany pulled the right muscles and had made the correct noise, it wasn’t quite as hilarious as it had seemed before.

Maybe after so long, the novelty had worn off. After all, from what Danyal could gather, the basis of Pixie, Ari and Raj’s argument was that Dany and Mara hadn’t been yelling at each other quite as much. The knowledge that they all held such low standards was… Depressing.

“It’s like they don’t hear me when I tell them how unhinged you are.” Dany said dryly, a second too late for it to be truly natural. Thankfully, Samara didn’t notice - she was eyeing up the inside of the jalebi box again, finding her next chosen piece. “What, no comeback? You’re going soft-”

“No.” Samara pointed warningly, making Dany grin. “I’m just too hungry to deal with your bullshit.”

“You always say that.”

“Well, after next week, you won’t need to hear it.”

… It were as if they tried to ignore the wedding, the more it appeared - and the more it did, the more Dany wanted to throw something at its mere mention. He knew Samara wasn’t trying to be abrasive, he did - as soon as she’d spoken, it was like she’d realised what she’d said. He knew that. But right now, right here, why couldn’t they just… Be normal? Spend time together? Friends did that. Friends spent time together.

And yes, in the past, Dany knew he’d been reluctant to use that term - but it was true. What else could she be? For him to know her so well, watch her so carefully? They were friends. In fact, it was likely that Mara was one of Dany’s… Better friends. She’d been the first person he’d spoken to when everything had started with Tara; and even now, Mara was civil with Tara for his sake during wedding preparations.

Fake fiancee, yes. Fake friend? Dany didn’t think so.

He just wanted to enjoy it. The two of them, being friends, without… Anything else. Why couldn’t he just be with his friend?

There was more silence. Danyal’s smile had faded, again, at the mention of the wedding - and Mara had suddenly found herself unable to look in his direction.

Dany needed to change the subject.

“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever told me your opinion on Divya.” Dany said her name slowly and deliberately, choosing to ignore how Samara immediately rolled her eyes. She refused to call Divya anything other than Divvy, no matter what Dany said - or where they were. Of course, Divya hadn’t been the first thing he would’ve chosen as a conversation starter… But, Dany realised, it was the truth. Samara, the extremely opinionated Samara, had never actually… Shared her thoughts on Dany’s ex. Bizarre, when one considered her role in her and Dany’s supposed reunion. “I mean, yes, you’ve given me non-verbal indications - like that-”

“You don’t need my opinion.” Mara stated clearly, sudden very business-like. Dany raised his eyebrows in surprise. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t really want it, so… Let’s not.”

Dany frowned, intrigued. Samara wasn’t even looking at him - and, again, Dany knew what that meant: that she was upset, very upset. You could always tell when her lips jutted out more - they went from natural pout to just… Accidental pout.

… But why?

“Why not?” He asked curiously - and, not giving it a second thought, plucked the small piece of jalebi that had been headed towards Mara’s mouth, and placed it in his own. It was a deliberately irritating gesture - one to distract Samara from whatever surge of negative feeling she was trying to fight against -, but also entirely natural for Dany to do. Regardless, Mara’s mouth fell open at his audacity. “You’re helping us get back together-”

Their eyes widened as they realised what he'd just said - and Mara, horrified at his carelessness, looked over to the driver… Who was obliviously humming along to the radio.

“How have you not told everyone our entire plan yet?” Mara asked incredulously. Dany sighed in relief. “Do you have no filter? You’re like a child-”

“Anyway - you’re… Helping out,” Dany said pointedly. Mara shook her head. He knew what she was thinking - what use was it being careful now? “- so you must have an opinion. I want to hear it.”

“And because His Highness so commands, we must all respond.” Mara muttered, rolling her eyes… But Dany hid his triumphant smirk as she shifted slightly in her seat to face him better. “Okay, first of all-” She snatched back the piece of jalebi, half of it gone to Dany’s mouth. The box, filled with whole other fresh pieces in her lap, lay ignored. “- I’m not a goddamn charity, and I’m not Cupid. I’m doing this for myself, your… Relationship,” If the word sounded dirty, it felt even worse, judging by Samara’s expression. Her voice dropped, protected from the driver by the upbeat item song he was listening to on the radio. “- is an added bonus and secondly,” She elbowed him gently. “You can want my opinion all you like, Danu, but it does happen to be one of the rare things your surname doesn’t make you entitled to.”

Dany didn’t react to the jibe about his surname - Mara made comments like that much too often for him to care. Plus, she got on with his father way too much for her to actually mean it.

No, it was the nickname - Danu - that made him grimace.

“I hate when you call me that.” He said, frowning. “You know only my Dad calls me that.”

“A, that was the point of me saying it, and B, since when did you hate it?” Mara snorted, pulling a fresh piece of jalebi from the box and biting into it.

Dany watched as a small piece fell, which she barely caught before it fell down her blouse and into a bra. Neither one of them hesitated - as soon as it was caught, Mara threw it, Dany catching it easily with his mouth.

“Six.” She said proudly. They kept a running score. Mara never warned him of when she was going to throw food, or what - their last running score had been twelve. They’d been defeated by a cherry tomato bouncing off’ve Dany’s nose and had had to start again.

Dany let the stickiness of the sugar melt on his tongue before speaking again.

“It’s different when you say it.” He told her. “I’ve had your tongue in my mouth-”

Mara stared at him in disbelief as Dany’s eyes went round again… And, as Dany turned to check on the driver, watched as he hastily glanced away upon catching Dany’s eye in the rear-view mirror. The radio station had been between songs.

“It’s fine, we’re engaged.” Dany shrugged, seeing Samara cringe. Dany suddenly smiled wickedly. “And I’ve also had Divya’s tongue in my mouth-” At least this time, he was quieter.

Not that it made a difference.

“That’s disgusting, Danyal-”

Dany placed a hand under his chin and stared at his fiancee with full, cheeky attention.

“Tell me how you feel about that.” He grinned, reverting out of his - Mara hated to admit it - perfect Urdu accent, into English.

It was because he knew he could be more irritating in English, she knew.

“You know my feelings about it!” She replied, in English too, staring at him with exasperation.

“But not why.” He persisted.

For a split second, it felt like their eyes lingered one each other’s for… Perhaps a bit more than they should have.

But then Samara looked away, rolling his eyes, and Dany rubbed his. He was probably just seeing things. It was so easy to irritate your eyes in this heat.

Realising she wasn't planning on sharing with the class anytime soon, Dany stole the new, larger piece of jalebi Mara had been holding - knowing exactly what buttons to press.

“Will you stop-” She snapped, going to elbow Dany in the ribs. He laughed, shifting in his seat and barely avoiding contact. “And I - fine, fine. Are you sure about this?”

It took him a second to respond - he’d been focused on the subtle, rosy flush making its way up Samara’s cheeks, thanks to the humidity; but they were on the motorway now, so to crack open the window meant conversational death. Dany considered putting on the air conditioning, but it always made her sneeze - and Dany was too interested in Samara’s answer to allow for any interruptions.

“Yes, I’m sure. What’s there to be sure about?” He shrugged.

Samara’s look of warning clearly indicated there was something.

It wasn’t like they’d never discussed Divya before. They had - at great length, in fact… Though, retrospectively, it had been Dany who had done the talking and Mara almost exclusively the listening.

Listening and pretending not to count to one hundred in her head, in a bid to stay calm.

Mara’s views on Divvy Kapoor were… Strong, to say the least. When Danyal had first recounted the tale of how he’d lost his virginity, and with an odd sort of fondness, Samara had found it a struggle to not throw herself (… or him) out of the nearest window, her reaction had been that… Visceral. He’d been fifteen, apparently.

… Her nails dug into the palm of her hands even thinking about it, sticky fingers and all.

“I think…” Dany was watching her with undivided attention and an odd sort of naivety that Mara didn’t want to ruin. At least, not as… Painfully as she usually might. She wanted to choose her words carefully, but she had to be honest. It had started off as a necessity - there were too many people desperate to find something wrong with their relationship, they couldn’t afford to keep secrets from one another -, but now it was habit. And one Samara quite liked.

After all, they already knew pretty much everything about each other, and they definitely weren’t in positions to judge. It was… Nice, to be able to talk to somebody like that. And with this being their last trip together in Pakistan… And Dany giving her the courtesy of asking her opinion, as someone whose opinion he was interested in (and Dany was interested in very few opinions, beyond those of his family)… She wanted to do it properly. Kindly. For once.

“I think,” Samara began again. Dany nodded, waiting. “I think she’s a cradle-snatching piece of shit who continues to emotionally manipulate you into becoming a part of this family unit she’s convinced herself she doesn’t have, even though - and partly because - you’re part of that unit anyway.”

Shit. It had just rolled off the tongue, too.

… Well, she’d tried to be kind. Trying was the important thing, right?

Just because she found anything to do with Divya vaguely - nope, she was being kind again, she meant extraordinarily - pathetic, did not mean Samara didn’t listen. For some bizarro reason that Mara couldn’t understand, Divya felt… Resentful, at being the only adopted member of her family; and because of it, rejected Dany’s Uncle Jai and Aunt Lucky as her parents, convinced they saw her as some kind of charity case. She hated being a Kapoor, because she didn’t think she was one - not when it was a name she’d gained through adoption.

Now, the latter at least, Samara could have understood. It was a sick twist of irony that Samara knew that feeling by being - or pretending to be with - Danyal. She was a Zafar by extension, formalities pending, and treated as such. Even then, Samara’s understanding was limited. The Zafars weren’t her family, whereas Jai, Lucky and Raj Kapoor were Divvy’s - not to mention that Raj wasn’t even Lucky’s, but saw her as a mother anyway. Divya was a part of the Kapoor family unit. Dany had made that crystal clear, and she’d seen it herself. Samara, on the other hand, was just Danyal’s fake fiancee.

And to make matters worse? Divya deliberately kept her resentment away from public life, so that she could flout her family’s connections constantly - to make movies, for promotion, for her social life. That was - partly - why Samara found her so intolerable; and Mara was definitely more of a make pizza, not war kind of girl. Divvy Kapoor seemed almost inherently greedy, and used her insecurities to treat her family (and associated family members, Mara’s fiancee included) badly, but still demand more of them. As if they owed her something.

Mara simply couldn’t fathom it. If you felt like you didn’t belong, and didn’t want to feel like a charity case… Why make yourself one? Why fall to that low level of self-victimisation, something Samara couldn’t stand… Unless you were already a lying, unscrupulous, manipulative little bitch in the first place?

But she hadn’t thought it was kind to share that part out loud.

Mara had thought this all very quickly - and, only seconds after having spoken, she looked up at Danyal warily, expecting his rebuttal. Anything. A quick defence, an angry silence, an irritated comment. Something, because - of course - Divvy Kapoor was perfect and Dany Zafar was whipped.

But that isn’t what Samara got - in fact, it wasn’t even something she saw. Instead, Mara was surprised to find Dany looking…

Confused.

Confused and curious and something else that Mara didn’t know how to identify.

Dany knew he should be offended. After all, the entire reason he had initially agreed to this entire plan was for… Divya. He should be offended, pissed off that Mara could even say something like that.

But he wasn’t.

It was like someone had struck a bell somewhere in the back of his head when Samara had spoken and now, the tolls were slowly continuing to reverberate through his mind. It was dull and in the background, but it was there, a… Buzzing. One that wasn’t going away. Like it meant something.

One of Dany’s revision tips from university came from a study he’d read - that reading revision material before sleeping for the night, meant that the brain continued to process the information, and more efficiently, as the body rested. Dany trusted the method. It had gotten him through plenty of boring maths revision at Oxford.

As absolutely ridiculous as it sounded… Samara’s words… Felt like that. Like he was still processing, even though he was asleep.

He sounded like a madman.

“… Go on.” He encouraged, watching her carefully.

Mara stared at Dany in disbelief. He hated hearing negative things about Divvy - did he want them to argue?

But, realising this was her last opportunity to say what she truly felt… Mara selfishly went on.

“I think she doesn’t know what she wants, and she’s projecting that onto you.” Mara began delicately. Seeing no change in Dany’s expression, she felt slightly more confident. “I think that despite the very many flaws you have-” Samara was sure to emphasise the very. Just because she was holding Dany up to a higher standard than the likes of Divvy Kapoor… Well. Mara didn’t consider Divvy a particularly good benchmark for decency anyway, so it wasn’t really that much of a compliment. “- and I mean many… You deserve better. Your family deserves better.”

“My family?” Dany blinked. He was just… Listening, taking in the information. It was throwing Samara off. “What does this have to do with them?”

Mara winced slightly. How did she even begin to explain?

“This… Person Divvy paints herself to be, hard done by and lacking in a family unit? That’s me. I am that girl.” There was no pity in Mara’s voice - she was stating fact, not making some sort of emotional statement. They both knew it, too. “And anyone from that kind of situation, or anything even a little bit like it, would be grateful at how welcoming and loving and… Amazing your family are.” Samara shook her head, unable to hide her disdain. “Not trying to… Cut them out and demand a secret wedding, just because she’s jealous and wants to control you.”

Yes, Samara had wanted to be honest. But she hadn’t counted on being that honest.

She watched Dany as he turned to look out of the window, the jalebi both in her lap and her hand forgotten.

Dany watched the wide, grey road ahead of them, the buildings slowly becoming shinier and taller as they reached the inner city. He could still remember that stupid wedding. He could feel the itch of his clothes, the way his shoulders had been tense the entire team - how with each step he took towards Divya’s accusing eyes, he felt like he was dragging an anchor behind him.

It wasn’t exactly a fond memory.

“That’s a pretty strong opinion.” Danyal finally said.

Samara sighed.

“I don’t want to argue with you.” She told him - before almost shoving the largest piece of jalebi from the box into his hands. With a half-smile, Dany took it - he understood that Samara had… Difficulties, with putting apologies into words. “I answered the question you asked. But trust me, a girl like her should feel lucky to have a family like yours even know her name, for goodness sake.”

Dany said nothing, staring down at the jalebi. Already, it began to melt on his fingertips.

He hadn’t meant to say it - honestly, he hadn’t. He hadn’t even thought it. It just… Slipped out and maybe Samara was right - maybe it was because he had no filter, that it came out fully processed and with no warning.

“Do you feel lucky?”

Sentimentality was not an adequate enough explanation for this type of behaviour. Jet lag, maybe? Residual exhaustion from all of the travelling he’d done so far?

Mara’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, silently asking - what do you mean?

“About my family knowing your name.” Dany clarified. Mara looked… Surprised. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mara opened her mouth to speak - but at first, no words came out.

Dany watched curiously as Samara began to fidget, breaking off a small twig of jalebi and twirling it in her hands. Just for something to do, Dany took a bite of the piece she’d given him.

“That’s different.” She finally said. “I… That’s cultivated, it doesn’t count.”

“Cultivated or not, it’s still about your feelings.” Dany shrugged, suddenly very interested in the pattern of Mara’s tunic. He focused on the edge of her sleeve, a mix of turquoise, white and orange. “Maybe it should count. You appreciate my family. You feel lucky. We’re already seventy percent there.”

They didn’t move. Either one of them. The car kept moving, the radio kept playing, the driver kept humming along - but neither one of them moved. When Dany dared to glance up, for just a second, Mara’s eyes were focused on the jalebi box in front of her.

And then it was gone so quickly, that both of them could have easily doubted whether it had ever happened at all.

Samara forced a laugh.

“That’s not funny, even as a joke, Danyal, God.” She told him, avoiding his eyes - and even though Dany had started it, even though he’d just been… Making a point, yes, that was what it was, he couldn’t quite meet hers either. “The one stable thing in my life over the past few months has been knowing this wedding is going to be a trainwreck.” She muttered, shaking her head slightly.

“But it’d be so easy.” Dany sighed - and the tension in Mara’s shoulders just… Fell away, at hearing the humour in his voice. Of course there was humour in his voice. What else could it have been? “And seeing as you hate Divya so much, you’d be doing me a favour-”

Something in Samara’s head just snapped.

“Why don’t you do yourself a favour then, and get rid of her? Because I can’t remember the last time you sounded happy at hearing her name anyway.” She said sharply.

Dany’s eyes widened in bewilderment at the sudden… Venom in Samara’s voice.

They knew each other too well, and were both too stubborn, to not look at one another when they fought. Which was confusing, because they weren’t fighting, not technically - they were just… Speaking in code.

Which was dumb, because it was a code that neither one of them could understand.

It was messed up. Samara knew that. And she felt… Strange, like someone had her throat in a vice, at how Dany was looking at her. Like she’d just slapped him. Like she’d said something he hadn’t even thought of before - and it was irritating, how… Innocent he looked, with his fluffy dark hair threatening to fall in front of his wide brown eyes, because this was serious. She just… Didn’t know why.

“And anyway,” She coughed, her voice immediately softer than before. “I wouldn’t be doing you a favour. I’d be teaching you a lesson. You’re Danyal Zafar, you’re used to having everything you want. Not everyone is willing to be that disposable.”

It was meant to come out as teasing - confident, cocky almost. Instead, it just came out as… Feeble. And more telling than Mara was comfortable with.

Sensing Mara’s discomfort, Dany almost felt ashamed. He didn’t want her to feel… Bad. He was making himself feel bad and that was always low on his list of priorities. Why was everything becoming so… Difficult?

Friends. They were… Friends. He just wanted to enjoy being with his friend.

“I’m still confused about why you think Divya is worth so little.”

Samara smiled - slightly out of disbelief, and slightly out of thankfulness. It was a crappy subject change, but at least it was one.

“Of course you are.” Mara sighed, shaking her head.

“She has issues, just like everyone else.” Dany continued, his eyes watching Samara’s every move. He didn’t know… Why he was so obsessed with having Mara’s opinion, but suddenly it mattered. A lot. Especially with the wedding so close. “That doesn’t necessarily warrant being called a piece of shit-”

Unbeknownst to many, Samara had a small fuse in head - one that didn’t allow her mouth to override her brain whenever Divvy’s name was mentioned. It worked extremely well, and Samara often thought Dany needed one. Her fuse got used more often that she would have liked, but it did a good job and Mara was proud of it.

But in that moment… It blew.

“What if it had been Zarina? Or Tara?” She demanded, turning to face him. Dany raised his eyebrows, meeting Samara’s eyes - the same ones he’d been admiring earlier - and finding them wide and angry. “No, in fact - not even them. Someone not even as close to you, what if it had been me?”

“I don’t understand-”

“If I told you,” Mara began, slow and impatient all at the same time. “That I’d lost my virginity at fifteen, to a man who was turning twenty, a man my family had trusted to keep me safe one night, what would you say to me, Danyal?” If Danyal had looked as if he’d been slapped earlier… Now he looked as if he’d been punched square in the jaw. But Mara was on a roll now, so she didn’t wait for his response - no. She ploughed on, because she was sick of this, sick of having to bite back the words she wanted to say the most. “If I told you that this twenty year old had seduced me in my bed, got on top of me and slept with me, what would you say? If it were me?”

Dany was immediately furious; at her implication, and the image she’d planted in his mind. She could see it, right alongside indignation and disgust.

But that was her entire point! Because she didn’t even matter to him, and that was the reaction he felt. Why couldn’t he see it the other way?

“I…” Dany was speechless. Genuinely speechless, not electively so like normal, because he simply couldn’t be bothered. For the first time ever, Dany didn’t have anything to say. But Mara still stared at him, eyebrows raised, because she knew he was ridiculous enough to try. “No. No, I mean - I - it’s… Different-”

“Why? Because you’re a boy?” Mara scoffed. She physically had to turn away from him for a moment, to try and compose herself. Was he deliberately being obtuse? Probably not. No, it was probably Divvy’s sharp claws still embedded in him. When Mara rounded back to him, Dany couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked so furious. Her cheeks were almost red from it. “Tell me, what’s the legal age of consent in the UK? Or the US, for that matter?”

Dany faltered.

“I… I- that doesn’t matter -”

“Or India? Or right here, in Pakistan?” She continued, relentless. Dany was… Too stunned, and too angry at what she was suggesting, to say anything more than he already had. “Let me tell you - the age of sexual consent in England is sixteen. In New York, it’s seventeen, in Pakistan it’s illegal outside of marriage and-” Mara laughed, a cold, dry sound. “- married to her you are not and in India, it’s eighteen.” Realising the insinuation, Dany’s eyes widened. “You were fifteen-”

“Stop.” Dany warned. “It is not what you’re - it was the day before she was turning twenty-one, that’s legally within the accepted four year age gap in the States and I gave consent-”

“Danyal.” Mara groaned, covering her face with her hands. Didn’t he see it? Why couldn’t he see it?! “Look - did you just hear yourself? Doesn’t you even having to know that prove there’s something wrong?!”

Dany was shaking his head before she’d even finished. No. No. She was twisting things. He’d had to ask! She’d warned him before, about asking for her opinion, but no, he’d gone ahead and asked anyway. And if she hated Divvy so much, why hadn’t she said something before?! That was all this was. Mara hating Divya…

From her perspective, it’s not hard to understand why.

He really hated that little voice.

“You’re making out it was something - something sordid.” Dany tried to explain. “It isn’t, it wasn’t-”

Samara took a deep breath. Maybe if she explained herself. Maybe if she was calmer, gentler…

Oh, who was she kidding? Subtle hadn’t gotten anyone anywhere!

“Dany. You are a British citizen. I am a British citizen. That means British law applies, whether it happened in the States or not-” Dany looked out of the window, still shaking his head. She yanked on his arm for his attention - and given the filthy glare she received, she knew it had worked. “She was over the age of majority. You were under the age of consent, it doesn’t matter where it happened, it was immoral and illegal-”

“Not in the States!”

So far, they argument - whilst heated - had been quiet. After all, nobody else knew of Divya and Dany’s affair - and it wasn’t exactly something they wanted shared.

But now, Mara’s voice rose.

“You’re worth more, for God’s sake!” She shouted - and, seeing the driver’s eyes flicker towards her reflection in the mirror, she deflated as Dany tensed. She - this was why she hadn’t wanted to speak. Because she’d known it would come down to this, what she’d been thinking ever since Dany had told her the story of how he’d lost virginity, and now that she was saying it all out loud, she couldn’t stop until he understood. “Did the legal technicalities with Zarina-”

“Don’t, Samara.” Dany warned. “Don’t even-”

“What happened to your sister was vile.” Samara continued, more gently this time - but Dany’s jaw suddenly clenched so hard, that Mara worried he was going to break his own teeth. “Wrong and awful and vile - and the legal technicalities of her case don’t change that!”

“If anyone thought something as screwed up as what you’re implying, they would tell me. Ari would tell me-”

“Dany, I didn’t mean-”

“- but maybe because you’re not used to having a family, you don’t understand that.” Dany spat.

He regretted it the moment he said it.

Helplessly, Dany watched as Samara glanced away, chewing on her lip. He hadn’t - he wasn’t - he didn’t like anyone bringing up what had happened to Ari, she knew that! And he knew she wasn’t - she hadn’t - Dany knew she wasn’t saying that Ari saw the same thing, Mara wouldn’t cause trouble between them and they weren’t even together, but…

It just - it wasn’t true. It wasn’t true! It couldn’t… It wasn’t true, it didn’t make sense, and Dany had just - he’d wanted her to stop talking about it. He hadn’t meant to be… Vicious.

“That isn’t fair.” She finally said softly, looking down at the jalebi box. Dany at least had the grace to look ashamed. “Not to me, and not to her. If Zarina knew what had really happened between you and Divya, how young you were - how can you expect her to have told you? She can’t even talk about what happened to herself, and I don’t-” Mara sighed, shaking her head. Dany forced down the lump in his throat. Samara had… Called Divya by her proper name. That had made her sound so… Serious. “And I don’t blame her, not at all, but how can you sit here and act like if she knew the truth, she could just tell you? Her big brother, that something similar may have happened to him?”

“Nothing like that happened to me.” Dany said warningly - before sighing. “I’m - I shouldn't have said what I said-”

But Samara was already moving on to the next thing - and Dany felt guilt settle on his shoulders, heavy and unforgiving. She was just… Dany knew she was trying to help. She was still trying to help. He just didn’t want to think about it.

Usually, thinking about something Samara had said would mean it made sense.

“Fine. Let’s forget I ever brought up Ari. I mean, it’s not like I’m right anyway, because otherwise Ari would know the truth about how you and Divvy got together in the first place.” Mara said sarcastically. Dany rolled his eyes. So much for his apology. “What about Kabir?”

“What about him?” Dany asked tiredly.

“If Kabir told you a girl, the night of her twenty-first birthday, slept with him when he was fifteen years old…” Seeing the driver glance at them in the mirror, Samara rolled her eyes and shuffled over slightly, so that she and Dany were now sitting side-by-side. Dany avoided her gaze, feeling… Uncomfortable at Mara’s words, focusing on the contrast of her bright tunic next to his plain one instead. The worst part was that Mara didn’t even seem angry, or venomous. Just… Desperate for him to understand. “Yeah, okay, you’d pat him on the back, toxic masculinity for the win, but - look at me, Danyal- are you honestly telling me that, in that situation, something wouldn’t feel off to you? That you wouldn’t want that person as far away from Kabir as possible?”

When Mara had told him to look at her, it had been more than a command - she’d made it happen, using her knuckles to softly tilt his head to face her. She’d avoided the stickiness of her hands - Dany knew it had just been practicality -, but it had been a surprisingly soft gesture, given their current moods.

And because of that, and the sentimentality drenching the Pakistani air and Danyal’s stupid jet lag and his weird stomach twists - all of his justifications for Samara’s argument flew away. He couldn’t even remember what they were. Because her knuckles, soft and brushing his chin - clean-shaven, for seeing her -, and the way she was looking at him, desperate for him to understand and… So concerned - his guard took a definite hit.

She knew him. She knew him more than he’d ever wanted to give her credit for - because of course she was right. The thought of Kabir being in that position put a foul taste on Dany’s tongue - one made even worse, for knowing how much it would bother Mara to say it out loud. She and Kabir were like schoolchildren when they were together - he was easily the closest of Dany’s siblings to her. She was struggling to even talk about it.

Dany sighed silently to himself.

“And what difference does it make to you, if someone takes advantage of me?” Dany asked quietly, causing the mood to… Shift. It didn’t help that it was said in Urdu; a predominantly formal language, one often reserved for poetry and romance and consequently laced in meaning, even when there had been little meant beyond the surface. Consciously, anyway. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re only doing this for yourself, remember?”

“If someone takes advantage of you, you deserve to know about it. And Danyal Zafar or not, you’ve earned that right from me.”

Surprise flickered across Dany’s face… As embarrassment flickered over Mara’s.

“I shouldn’t have said that in Urdu.” Mara mumbled, more to herself than Dany - and Dany couldn’t help but stare, as her eyes flickered downwards in confusion.

“Why?” Dany asked impatiently. Samara stared up at him warily. “Sounds like you mean it more?”

It came out more scathing than Dany had intended.

“I’ve made my point. If you choose to ignore it, then that’s your problem.” Samara finally said quietly, feeling… Odd, at how she was being watched. Dany felt odd to be watching. What was it he was looking for, exactly? The secrets of the universe, hidden away on her face?

Something like that.

That voice… Was really getting on his last nerve.

Danyal watched as Mara searched his face, trying to understand - before her eyes fell to her knuckles, still resting lightly underneath his chin… And turning a deep pink.

Before Dany had the chance to say anything, she’d all but thrown herself back to her seat on the other side of the car.

“How far are we?” She called out to the driver, not looking in Dany’s direction. He turned to look out of his window, alarm bells ringing in his mind. What had just happened? Under the pretence of resting his chin in his hand, Dany rubbed where Samara’s knuckles had been, as it had begun to tingle.

“Not long, ma’am.” The driver replied. Right now, Dany could barely remember his own name - let alone the driver’s. What was going on with him? “Ten minutes, max.”

Dany glanced at Samara, in order to gauge her reaction; but there was a lack of one, as Samara simply nodded, and, with a polite smile, turned to face the view out of her own window. They were in the city now - wide grey roads up ahead, with flower boxes planted between the lanes and lush, mountain greenery looming up ahead.

The white box sat between them and, from the corner of his eye, Dany saw Samara slowly suck the sugar from her fingers, lost in thought.

She looked tense. Dany certainly felt it.

Turning fully back to the window, Dany tried to… Digest Samara’s words. Without their argument to distract him, he was slightly concerned to find himself… Fine. Relaxed, almost.

Bizarre as it was to think, there had been something… Genuine about Samara’s argument, something kind. Honest. But that was her all over - completely unafraid to tell him the truth, regardless of whether or not he wanted to hear it. So long as she knew it would help, Mara always told him the truth - and being Danyal Zafar meant that, often, the truth was substituted for flattery.

There were few people who were confident enough in their relationships with Danyal to be so honest - but they were the few that Dany valued the most, as his closest and dearest friends.

It felt… Good, to know Samara was a part of that group. A pleasant surprise.

Great to know you noticed just in time to help her disappear.

Dany frowned.

He and Samara didn’t talk for the rest of the journey.

. . .

Danyal and Samara’s office, the one they spoke about with such affection, was the Pakistan Monument; a towering structure, designed to look like a blooming flower from an aerial view, with each petal carved with the nation’s history. The Monument was part of a larger complex, including a museum, gardens and a large terrace made of marble that overlooked the city in its entirety - including the Margalla Hills in the distance, the beginning of the Himalayan foothills.

Even as a little boy, Dany had always loved those hills. Beyond them began India - and so, in an odd sort of way, those hills represented home to Danyal more than any one country.

Dany had taken Mara to the Monument for the first time - during their first family trip, when they’d ran out on everyone and almost caused her aunt’s head to explode. Like most people who considered a large city home, despite her many trips back, Samara had never been to the Monument - after all, it was a tourist attraction. All residents of any city took tourist attractions for granted. But Dany had been aghast at that entire way of thinking, and insisted on righting such a terrible wrong.

To thank him for it, Mara had taken the Zafars out for some of the best barbecue in the city, out on the hills. Mara and Dany had sat on opposite ends of the table, smiling triumphantly at each other, as their families had laughed and joked, Islamabad basking in the warmth of endless twinkling lights beneath them.

Standing out on the furthermost point of the terrace, the both of them looked out to the hills, remembering that same night.

If Samara could go back, would she? Would she have tried to tell herself it was all a bad idea? Was it?

And Dany wondered whether the heaviness in his chest at remembering such a fond memory was caused by some sort of altitude sickness.

Shaking his head to himself, Dany stepped forward.

“Ah, thank you.” Mara sighed happily, taking one of the sticks of a pistachio ice cream - called kulfi - happily. “Okay. The plan, from the top.”

“Is that really necessary?” Dany asked boredly, leaning against one of the many arches that decorated the terrace’s edge, removing focus from the silver security bar. “We’ve been over the plan at least a thousand times by now-”

“Then going over it again will be as automatic as breathing.” Mara said sweetly.

Danyal sighed.

“You have your final fitting this evening.” Dany began, an expression of intense disinterest displayed clearly on his face. “Ari will arrive tomorrow and you’ll all spend time together, before Annie and Ari leave for London the day after. By then, Raj and I will be in Vegas with the rest of the boys and by the time everyone has arrived there, you’ll be flying down to London for your hen-”

Mara shook her head through a mouthful of ice cream. “Not hen, bridal shower.” She corrected. Dany raised an eyebrow. Did it matter? “Pixie says hen gives off the wrong impression for someone as fancy as the Zafars’ first daughter-in-law.”

“And she actually said the word fancy?”

Mara waved her hand at him. “I’m paraphrasing. And make sure I give you the rings before you leave tomorrow. Carry on.”

“We have the business brunch with my parents’ board members on Wednesday morning, and the big, formal mehndi in the evening-”

“The one where we sit and look pretty and in love for all of the people that didn’t make the final guest list.” Mara smirked, nodding to herself. “Lucky them. Don’t forget my mehndi is on-”

“The Friday… And take off is Saturday night.” Dany finished, glancing over at Samara. All of a sudden, she was studying the view with a significant amount of interest. Happy for a distraction, Dany shrugged his… Watchfulness off. “Hey, you have more pistachios than me. Sharing is caring-”

Happy to have something distract them both, Dany quickly went to grab Mara’s ice cream… Only for Samara to hold onto it, staring up at him with indignation, until the ice cream swayed - and hit Danyal on the nose.

“That was not what I was expecting.” Dany muttered, too stunned to move.

… And that was when Samara started to laugh.

Dany’s warm smile was automatic - and as he touched where the already-melting ice cream had left its mark, Samara’s laughter went from loud to hysterical. It was infectious.

There was relief in Dany’s chuckle, too - because this, this felt ordinary. They sniped and teased at each other, and then they laughed about it, and then it was business as usual. And repeat.

Not after next week.

The thought was sudden, and intrusive enough, for Dany to stop laughing - not that Samara seemed to notice.

Dany watched, feeling… Dull on the inside, as the thought echoed in his mind. Mara was holding onto the safety bar to stay upright, and every time she looked up at Dany, she burst into a fresh set of giggles.

“You are - you are honestly - such a mess-” She wheezed, laughing so hard… That the ice cream fell to the floor with a soft splat, setting Mara off to the point where no sound left her mouth. Dany laughed too - but this time, purely because it was so fun to watch her laugh. “Oh my - oh my God, Danyal, come here- ”

That stupid, goofy smile still on his face, Dany leant down slightly as Samara stepped forwards, resting her hand on his shoulder to steady herself. The puddle of rapidly melting kulfi lay forgotten behind her.

“Try not to cause an accident with this one.” She snickered, nodding to Dany’s own.

It had been automatic - when Mara had closed the space between them, Dany’s hand had fallen to the small of her back, steadying her. There wasn’t anything… Special about it. Even now, as Mara used the tips of her fingers to gently begin dabbing away at the runaway dessert, still grinning… It was normal for Mara to be so close. Dany, or Mara for that matter, didn’t even think about it. It was normal for them to have so little space between them.

Would it be normal if I kissed her right now?

It had come out of nowhere - but before Dany even had time to process the thought, he was down the rabbit hole.

Immediately, he felt irritated at himself - and even more irritatingly, not for thinking something so… Unnecessary. No. He felt irritated because… He should have already known what it was like to kiss her. They’d done it enough times.

It was another tool in their box, something else to use as part of their charade as time had worn on. It was only the first time that had been… Odd. Dany had made the first move, proving a point to one of Samara’s obnoxious dancer friends who clearly liked her too much, and Samara, although clearly shocked at first, had quickly played along. That was all Dany could really remember.

It must have been pleasant. He wouldn’t have kept kissing her, or managed to make it so convincing, if that weren’t the case, right? He just… Hadn’t noticed.

Whenever they’d had to pull out a kiss for show - a proper kiss, not a quick peck on the cheek every now and then -… Well, Dany knew Mara had nice breath - and whatever she wore on her lips was never too sticky, or seemed to smudge too much over the two of them. She was really good at… Reading him, in terms of what kind of kiss they were meant to be having or what point it was meant to prove, but they were a good team like that anyway.

But beyond the pragmatics… Dany couldn’t think of much else.

As Mara opened her mouth to speak, Dany could only hear a strange… Roaring in his ears and his heart hammered at his chest, so hard that Dany was sure, if he looked down at his tunic, he’d see it. Her lips, pink and damp from the ice cream, brushed against each other… And Dany realised, as if he’d known it all along (when he really hadn’t), that those lips were addictive - because he wouldn’t have found reasons to keep kissing them if they weren’t.

She was addictive.

I’m getting too close. A voice in his head warned, and this time, it was very much Dany in control of it. Jump ship before you’re in over your head.

He was right. Of course he was. This thought process was… A runaway thought, yes, but not a good one. Dany was logical, practical, and practically speaking, entertaining such thoughts when feeling sentimental and potentially - potentially - … Nervous about next week’s performance was… Counterproductive.

Dany knew that. He did. The problem was that, despite knowing that, he still couldn’t drag his eyes away Samara’s mouth.

And worst of all, it seemed as if she was completely oblivious.

Dany landed back on Earth with a crash.

“- see you now, an entire mountain of rumours would just tremble.” Mara waggled her eyebrows mischievously, using the pad of her thumb to remove the last of the ice cream splatters from the corner of Danyal’s mouth. Nodding to herself, pleased with her handiwork, Mara absent-mindedly sucked the ice cream away. “There, all fixed, you’re welcome.”

He’d already been thinking about kissing her. Now he was mentally tripping over himself, at seeing Samara’s fingers, which had been in contact so easily with his mouth, being in contact with her own.

Realising that he was… Sinking, Dany subtly glanced around. The Monument was a popular spot for picnics, and Danyal spotted a family a small way away, including a young couple - Dany guessed early thirties -, smiling in his and Mara’s direction.

He knew what they were thinking - that he and Mara, with him pulling her close and Mara’s engagement ring sparkling in the sunlight, were newlyweds. And normally, Dany would have warned Samara that they had an audience - but he didn’t.

And there was no constant buzzing in his head, either. He felt weirdly… Quiet, with one hand on Samara’s back and the other - he couldn’t even remember how it had gotten there - on her waist. Calm. Like all of the background noise in his head that he was used to, along with the added buzz that had come from their previous conversation… Didn’t exist. He was just… There. Present. Holding her close and feeling a bit gormless, as Samara nattered away obliviously.

What the Hell did that mean?

“- isn't she? Danyal?” He jerked back to the present, immediately paranoid, as Mara slapped him lightly on the cheek. What had he missed? Had she noticed him staring? It was no secret that they both found the other at least passably attractive, but staring like an idiot at her mouth was something a little more difficult to explain. In fact, even internally, the overwhelming urge to just… Kiss her was fucking weird. Mara, finally seeing Dany’s pupils refocusing, sighed. “Divvy, we’re talking about Divvy. Do I have your attention now? She is going to do what we want her to next week, isn't she?”

She then stepped away from him, back behind the melting kulfi, to look up at him properly - and Dany suddenly felt irritated at how he'd had to hide how his hands had hovered in the space where Mara’s body had been just moments before.

Dany’s irritation quickly became more frustrated, as Dany realised the question. What was with Mara’s… Obsession today? He was sick of talking about Divya, of her somehow being the focal point in nearly every conversation he and Samara had had so far.

… And yes, whilst Dany acknowledged there was an argument for the fact that, as the wedding approached, Divya - as part of the reason for the whole fake wedding thing was happening - was a necessary talking point… Why wasn't it enough for Dany to say he had everything under control?

He was sick of it, sick of discussing the same plan over and over again -

Sick of Divya.

Did that voice in his head come with a mute button?

“We’re not talking about this again.” Dany said firmly, shaking his head - not that, of course, it made any difference.

“It’s a valid question!” Mara protested, slightly offended by how… Casual he was being. Almost a year’s worth of scheming and manipulation was resting on Divvy Kapoor’s weak, pathetic little shoulders - Samara had every right to be concerned! “What if she doesn't fall for it? What if she doesn't get the hint about you wanting her to prove her love on the actual wedding day? We can't afford for her to mess this up, you're already going to have to be so careful with how you speak to her-”

Turning to stare down at the grey mess of winding roads beneath them, Dany clenched his jaw.

“I've told you, it's under control. She lives her life by a script, feeling as if her life is actually important enough to be dramatic in real life is enough to have her drooling.”

The bitterness in Dany’s voice took them both by surprise - and as a surprised silence fell between them, Dany tried to ignore how Mara��s eyes had widened at it. Hell, even he was surprised. He didn't just sound bitter. He sounded… Pissed.

They were discussing the final part of their plan - the part that only they knew about, the most delicate piece.

Throughout their fake relationship, Dany and Mara had methodically left a trail of breadcrumbs for Divya to pick up on. It was the most manipulative part of their plan, and possibly the cruellest - because it relied on Danyal’s intimate knowledge of Divya’s insecurities, and Samara’s ability to operate them.

It was Mara’s superpower, the power of which impressed Dany regularly. The action was always so simple; a look of uncertainty on Dany’s face, a frown on Mara’s, always perfectly timed so that Divya would always be the only one to see it, even across a crowded room. It wasn't even basic jealousy tactics - it was tailored so specifically to Divya’s personality, and her ego requiring Danyal to be unhappy with anyone who wasn't her, that it was... Impossible to be replicated.

It wasn't exactly a credit to Divya’s character - but it was an attest to Mara’s skill, and had, during Mara’s first demonstration, made Dany embarrassed to be so stuck in love with someone as… Easily played as Divya.

Not that Danyal was in a position to judge, of course. He was the idiot who had fallen in love with her.

Really?

But this time, Dany was too busy inside of his own thoughts to be irritated by that voice again. Their trail of breadcrumbs had led Divya to this moment - when, with the wedding looming ahead, her confidence in Dany’s love for her was suddenly quite shaken.

Divya, still playing her supposed sisterly role - something quite… Sickening, given Mara’s comments earlier -, would watch as the events leading up the wedding and unfolded - and she'd snap.

The rest was simple, in Dany’s mind - she would approach him, he knew, insisting he was making a mistake and generally attempting to get into his head. Dany would rebuff her - and, accusing her of the mindless jealousy she'd always so easily accused of him, hinting at an unspoken ultimatum. Do something about it - forget everything you've ever cared about, except this -, or watch me walk away, forever knowing that you destroyed your own happiness.

Mara had been surprised when Danyal had suggested that as the plan’s ending. Dany thought it rather fitting. After all, it was the exact same ultimatum that Divya had given him.

And so that was their plan - to let Divya unravel on the day of the wedding, causing chaos in her wake. Dany wasn't sure on the exact details - she'd either approach him before the ceremony itself, one last time to beg him not to go through with it, or simply assume to know Dany’s mind as she always had and interject before all of their guests -, but it didn't matter. It was the one part of the plan that Dany felt comfortable leaving slightly to chance… Because no matter what the method, the result remained the same. It was just a matter of which way the equation was balanced.

Dany’s knowledge of statistics was the source of his confidence. But his knowledge was not shared - which was why Mara continued to freak out about whether someone as “flaky as a derogatory adjective” - and that was a direct quote - could be relied on.

It was an annoying fear at the best of times, especially when you considered that Samara’s entire, successful plan so far had relied on logically assessing and manipulating Divya’s weaknesses. But Mara was quickly reminding him that fear was an illogical thing.

Dany couldn't relate.

“But…” Mara winced as Dany groaned. “I’m just saying, what if something has changed? What if she suddenly… Wakes up and realises that, actually, it’s kind of weird that she's this obsessive over you and should, actually, move on with her life-”

Dany couldn't hear anymore.

“So what if she does?” He snapped - and Mara physically jerked back at the sudden change in mood. “Are you worried you're suddenly going to have to marry me out of pity?”

Mara shook her head - slowly at first, and then quicker, as if offended by the mere suggestion.

Well, that made two of them.

“No, no, of course not-”

“Then what are you worried about?” Dany demanded. A small part of his brain - currently tied up somewhere, clearly - wondered what the Hell was wrong with him today. Samara was just nervous, and didn't she have a right to be? If his mood swings were anything to go by, it was a mutual feeling. So why was he being such a… Prat?

Dany genuinely didn't have a clue. Nerves didn't seem to be an adequate answer, and it wasn't like Dany had had the opportunity to think about Mara’s earlier comments and become offended. He'd been fine a few seconds ago!

Maybe you just care…

Dany finally felt grateful for that stupid voice - because, of course, that had to be it! Samara was his friend and she was… Working herself into a frenzy, over something that couldn't be helped. It was frustrating him, was all. That had to be it. They were meant to be enjoying their downtime, and they couldn't, because Mara was worried about Divya. He just wanted Mara to relax while she still could - before the lead-up to the wedding got really crazy.

Still… Knowing why he was so irritable didn't make Dany feel better. Since when did he stress out so much? Being an asshole wasn't going to make Mara feel better, or himself.

Much to his own surprise, Dany realised that maybe the voice of his subconscious had made a valid point. He was being neurotic, caring for his friend’s feelings like this.

It was probably guilt! Yes, that had to be it! He felt guilty because as much as Samara insisted she was doing this for herself, it was still Divya that she was stressing over. Dany’s ex. The ex who had influenced their entire plan, who they'd both had to work harder for.

Now Danyal felt better. It was still… Incredibly unreasonable of him, but at least it made sense. As long as things made sense, Danyal could make peace with it.

But that only furthered his point - that the voice telling him to take a step back, the sane voice, was right.

He couldn't take responsibility for everyone's feelings at once. That wasn't practical - and that was his job, to be the practical one.

Anyway, Dany knew for a fact that Samara was finishing up her period. That wouldn’t be helping. The first couple of times that PMS had affected her moods, Dany had taken note - and now, all it took was a simple calculation in his head.

Dany immediately felt calmer - more in control. He had understood the problem. He could come up with a solution, one that actually rather suited him. He almost felt silly, for being so confused before.

Dany had been so lost in his own thoughts, that he’d forgot his rudeness.

“Is this what it’s going to be like?” Samara asked quietly - and Dany turned, eyebrows raised, at the sudden sadness in her voice. “Our friendship, after the wedding?”

He paused, sure he’d misheard.

“… What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about whenever I say something, or offer my opinion on whatever’s going on with you, you just shut me down.” Mara retorted, somewhat incredulous at Dany’s confusion. “You’re going to be a dismissive little shit, only with more of an audience, just because I’ll be your annoying ex?”

It slipped out before he could help it - and in fairness, and not for the first time in their conversation thus far, it came out a lot more abrasive than Dany had intended.

“Why would I be out with you in public after the wedding?” Seeing how Mara’s mouth fell open, Dany shrugged. “What?”

“What?” She repeated incredulously - and Dany stared as Mara crossed her arms angrily over her chest, her eyes flashing with anger. “What is it with you today, Danyal? Why are you being such a prick?”

Dany raised one, indignant eyebrow.

“A prick? Are you serious?” Dany scoffed - and just like that, all of the reasoning and internal debate he’d tried to so carefully cultivate… Disappeared up in smoke. He was being the prick? He was trying to make things better, easier and it was like every time he got closer to that goal, Mara deliberately tried to antagonise him. “What do you think is going to happen next week, Samara? After you run out of the wedding, Bollywood style, the week after that people are going to carry on seeing us hanging out in the park?”

“We both know that if there’s anyone running out of weddings Bollywood style, Danyal, it’s you, not me.” Mara retorted bitingly, her response immediate. “And - how dare you throw that in my face?! We agreed it’s the smartest thing for me to do - what, I’m meant to pretend to be dumped on the day of my wedding and then stand around and applaud as you marry the person you’ve dumped me for?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly as Dany stood to his full height, looking irritated. Well, if it was a fight he’d been after…

“Yes, and you conveniently left out the part about how much it’d kill you to stand there and applaud, when we first talked about it it-”

“What difference does that make?” Samara interrupted, frowning. “Literally - what difference does that make? None. It doesn’t. You’re being a douchebag.”

“It makes all of the difference!” Dany burst, causing Mara to scoff. Dany struggled to find the words. “I - you - it’s all about intent, it’s a matter of intent, you can’t ask for a round of applause for something when your intentions when doing it were different from the start-”

“When did I ask for applause? This is exactly my point, you’re not even listening to me-”

“You’re not listening to yourself-”

“Is this because of what I said about her earlier?” Mara demanded. The words on Dany’s tongue died - and although he told himself it was because he was struggling to find more, out of frustration at her… Wilful ignorance, that stupid voice told him it wasn’t. That, and to shut up and listen. And, you know, stop being a douchebag. “About… Divya? I wasn’t trying to upset you-”

But Dany wasn’t listening anymore, because she’d done it again - Mara had called Divya by her name. Not Divvy. Not your ex. And Dany suddenly felt like a popped balloon because… For God’s sake, what had they even been arguing about?

Mara was right. He was being a prick. And a douchebag.

It was just all so… Insane. Illogical! Dany had never had a temper, not ever. Everyone said he took after his father. The only time Danyal cared about his reputation was when it was somehow linked to business - other than that, he didn’t care. He didn’t need to. Being Danyal Zafar came with too many benefits and positive associations to care about a small a price as other people’s opinions.

But God, Samara got under his skin. And that didn’t make sense either, because only his loved ones, his real inner-circle, had the power to do that - and with the wedding looming, Dany had been forced to realise that Samara didn’t fall into that category.

Which made the whole temper predicament a million times more confusing.

“You don’t need to apologise.” Dany sighed, deflating and rubbing his face, leaning against the safety bar again.

It took him a moment to realise Mara was staring - or, more accurately, glaring. Her eyes looked lighter in this light, and they always seemed to shine more when she was angry - even if Dany knew, like so many other things to do with the… Infuriating girl standing in front of him, it didn’t make sense.

“I’m not.”

They stared at each other for a moment - Mara’s eyes slightly narrowed and angry, Dany’s irritated and assessing - … And just… Stopped. They agreed to stop.

Dany looked back up to the Hills as Samara sighed loudly, shaking her head slightly.

He didn’t allow himself to think before speaking. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d go through with it.

“We should stop talking. From as soon as I leave for Vegas.”

Dany kept his eyes trained on the hills - he focused on one of the lower slopes, the tree peaks looking darker from this distance -, as Mara stared up at him in surprise.

“What-” Mara paused. “Wait, what do you-”

“We started talking to each other out of necessity, but now it’s become habit. We need to get used to not talking to each other anymore.�� Dany almost looked down at her - but he stopped himself, just in time, and kept his eyes on the view. They didn’t move, looking, but barely seeing. “That’s how things will be after the-” For some reason, the word wedding caught in his throat. Next to him, Mara was frozen too, looking up at him with an expression he wouldn’t allow himself to see. “- next week.”

Dany didn’t move. Not even his knuckles - white from how hard they were gripping the safety bar - as the skin stretched over the bone; and next to him, Samara didn’t either, Dany barely being able to see from the corner of his eye that she was still staring up at him.

They heard the picnickers talking and laughing and eating; the traffic below; the sounds of bells on anklets ringing and the rustle of shoes against marble, of the breeze.

But they didn’t move.

In fact, as the minutes wore on, Danyal wondered if he’d spoken at all. If Mara had heard. In fact, it was just as Dany opened his mouth to… Say something, to check, something, when Samara finally spoke.

“Okay.” She said quietly - and when Dany stared down at her, his jaw clenching at the answer he’d thought would make him feel better to hear, Mara wasn’t looking at him, either. Her eyes were trained on nothingness behind him - a part of the marble floor. “Fine, yes, if that’s what you think. It… Makes sense.”

“It makes sense.” Dany repeated, a fresh wave of irritating, unidentified emotion itching at the back of his neck. It sounded more like a convincing.

It happened again. That… Pause.

This time, it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“We should go.” Mara sighed, turning away. Dany’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “There’s a lot to get done before next week - and you have your flight tomorrow.”

“We have time-” Dany muttered, checking his watch - but Samara shook her head, looking out to the view Dany had been so interested in just moments before.

“No, let’s go.” She echoed. “We’re done here.”

Dany watched as, without a second thought, Mara began to walk away.

Dany looked out to the city one more time - and slowly uncurled his fingers from the railing, feeling them ache slightly as they stretched. He was almost grateful - it was… Easier, to think about.

“Bye, office.” Dany muttered, frowning as his chest felt heavy - and following Samara out of their favourite place, for the last time.

They didn’t speak for the rest of their journey. Hell, neither one of them said much for the rest of the day - but with Dany, it was just… Less noticeable, with nobody there to question him. During her fitting with Pixie, Mara blamed jet-lag - and to her knowledge, it was.

Dany dropped by Mara’s uncle’s place, a modest white mansion at the base of the hills, in the morning, to pick up the rings.

By the time Samara had handed them over - and turned away for just a second, to reply to the maid asking after Danyal’s breakfast-, she could already hear the slam of the car door.

She sighed heavily to herself, pulling her shawl closer around her as she watched the car drive away. Danyal didn’t seem to look back.

“Guess we’re starting early.” Mara muttered to herself - before turning away, and doing the exact same thing.

#modosphere #dara #drabble #The Dara Drabbles #wedding edition #henbee #Danyal Zafar #Samara

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