#what i said was kind of sitting in silly little assumption land

[foolishjellyfish]

Feelin like i keep saying the Wrong Thing lately and its so exhausting??? How do I keep saying shit that’s so badly articulated that the meaning I communicate is just Not what the original intention is...

[totiredtowrite]

Hey can I pls request an Asahi x reader where We agree to go to our house as a casual hang out after practice but what he doesn’t expect to see in our room is this creepy looking plush(appearance up to interpretation) that’s turns out to be yn’s childhood toy that they adore very much.

So like the whole fic would be Asahi’s internal struggle to either leave his crush’s house or stay with the terrifyingly petrifying abomination that yn has no problem hugging and kissing.Hed try to stay strong and continue talking to us but at times he would take bathroom breaks so he could build up his courage again lmao.

Maybe our mom would notice the amount of bathroom breaks Asahi would take and idk make some assumptions 🤨(she could become important if you decide making her ask Asahi what’s wrong and the whole silly conflict would be resolved by her telling us to bring the toy to another room so poor Asahi doesn’t have to be petrified)

Anyways thank you!💕

Rico

Warnings - Asahi being afraid of your bear :(

Note: Sorry I didn't get this out yesterday oml. This was one of my favourite requests so there's no way I could let this sit in the ask box any longer. The gif has noya in it cause why not and I couldn't find any other ones that fit ig :'). Little thing about the bear, I tried to describe it in a way that makes it seem like it looked cute as some point in time, so let me know if that was good <3

Male Reader

'Oh my god, did it just move?'

There really wasn't a good way to describe Asahi's predicament right now. Seated curtly on the floor of your room, while you were talking about something and pulling a video up to show him on your laptop.

There shouldn't be a problem here. In fact, Asahi should be nervous for completely different reasons. He honestly wasn't even sure how he got here in the first place.

~~~

"Azumane!"

Asahi turns at the sound of your voice, his face heating up as he spots you sprinting towards him. He slows to a walk to allow you to catch up, growing increasingly more fidgety. Why were you you approaching him? You don't talk to him too much outside of practice or class, so why were you running towards him with such a bright smile?

Then a horrible thought struck him. Did you find out? Were you going to make fun of him? You, the most beautiful, handsome, gorgeous boy he'd ever met? No no no, that couldn't be the case right? Somehow the smile on your face looked more sinister to him.

He was still worrying when you took up a place at his side. "I was wondering," you huffed, "if you wanted to hang out?"

His eyes widened, nerves fading quickly. "Sure! I- sure." He stammered out. He really had a habit of making something out of nothing, didn't he.

~~~

Oh yeah, that's how.

On any note, he should be nervous because he's sitting in his crushes bedroom. Not because of the absolutely terrifying bear seated in your lap.

There really isn't any other way to describe it accurately.

It looked like a normal bear from the back, the matted patches of fur and occasional stitches being normal for any childhood toy. You had walked in after him and saw him staring at the bear, so you had picked it up and showed him the front, beaming.

"Meet Rico!"

What was he even supposed to think? The bear had a little animal skull where it's face should be. The matted fur was a reoccurring thing, but in the front there were little patches of leather that looked dangerously like human skin sewed in to keep the bear from falling apart at the seams. There were little red threads sticking up in random spots, and Asahi was 100% sure there was an all too realistic eye in one of the skull sockets.

When he asked you about it in the most non-threatening, meek voice ever, you said that his other eye fell out a while back, and the leather actually did very well with not ripping or tearing. You also explained that your uncle helped you patch Rico up before he passed away, as he was good with leather.

So, here he was in the present. You were talking happily about something that interested you, sitting cross-legged with Rico on your lap. It was everything he had hoped for, but for some reason Asahi just couldn't focus on your angelic voice. Well, he knew the reason full well. He seriously thinks Rico was watching him. It felt like his weirdly realistic eye was glancing at him no matter where he moved, and oh god did its leg just twitch?

"... ahi... asahi... Azumane?"

He jumped and tore his attention off of the bear, instead opting to meet your (e/c) eyes. "You were spacing out, are you okay?" You asked with a warm smile.

"I- uh- yes! ...Could I ask where the bathroom is?"

~~~

Really it's pathetic. This is the fourth time he's gone to the bathroom in an hour, and he was sure you were starting to notice. He can't even think of any reason to defend himself, aside from the fact that the longer he stayed by the bear, the heavier the tension fell on him.

Taking a deep breath and meeting his own eyes in the mirror, he steeled himself to head back to your room. What's the worst that could happen right? At the very least, the bear wouldn't decide to off him while you were in the room.

Asahi, now determined and ready, opened the door and prepared to head back down the hall to your room when he was stopped by a woman's voice.

"Oh! You're (y/n)'s friend, right?" He stopped, turning around slowly, only to relax when his eyes landed on a friendly looking woman. She held a smile clad with a bit of concern.

"Yes! I- yes, that's me," he quieted down, bringing a large hand up to scratch the back of his neck. There truly was nothing more awkward than meeting your crushes mother. Alone.

She smiled a closed eyed smile at him, before opening her mouth to speak once more. "I can't help but notice that you've been taking quite a few breaks?" She was clearly trying to ask him about it in the most non-confrontational way possible, like approaching a scared animal.

And she was starting to get a little suspicious. More often than not has she spotted Asahi making a run towards your bathroom with a red face, and she at least wants to know what his relationship with you is before assuming anything crude.

"Well- I- Can you keep a secret?" He blurts out in defeat. She nods. "His bear- Rico- kind of scares me." The deflated aura around him was almost funny. In Asahi's mind, that bear was definitely not normal. After all, you mentioned that your uncle patched it up before passing away. As stupid as it was, he swears that bear is haunted.

Before anyone else could say anything, you chuckled from Asahi's back. "That's all? I really thought you hated me!" You laughed, Rico under your arm. He turned bright red and your mother chuckled.

"Well," she said, "How about we move Rico to another room so that our guest doesn't get too scared." She smiled softly. You nodded with a grin, and took off to set Rico down somewhere else.

Once you were out of earshot, your mom turned to Asahi.

"I always thought that bear was creepy too."

~~~

In the end, Asahi supposes, that awkward little encounter was worth it. You had your head on his lap, going on about something that you learned about earlier in the day. Maybe he was still a bit afraid of your weird childhood toy, but it kind of did help him get a boyfriend.

While his adoring eyes were on you, he failed to notice Rico's arm shifting, his little sewn mouth turning up to smile just a bit wider.

[turinn]

Naive

Ray Blackwell x M!Reader

Summary: An invitation at a party reveals that Luka had no idea you’re gay, and brings up a concern you hadn’t had before. Tags: Crack, fluff, secret relationship, mention of homophobia, alcohol consumption A/N: This is based on a dream I had where Luka and I had this exact conversation and when I woke up and remembered it I nearly threw up laughing. I did actual research for the girls outfit and hair bc im a fashion history nerd. the pocket watch i just thought was cute. Fenrir calls the reader fruity but its okay bc hes gay too god bless Word Count: 1.5k

The party was the usual affair expected of the Godspeed's, an air of elegance- present but not too overbearing- hanging over the large hall. Music drifted gently to your ears as you took everything in, a small smile settling on your face.

You couldn't help but feel a little underdressed. The officers had, of course, kept their uniforms on, but everyone else present was dressed to the nines. You'd thought the suit you wore was lovely when you and Seth had seen it last week, dark blue with a white trim, paired with a pale cyan tie and pocket square. The gold watch that settled comfortably in your pocket had been a gift from Blanc, supposedly made by Oliver to look similar to his own, to commemorate your decision to stay in Cradle. Compared to everyone else, it felt rather simple now, but you pushed the thought aside. Nobody was judging what you were wearing, they were here to enjoy themselves same as you.

"Would you like a drink?" Ray asked, voice soft enough not to startle you too much. This wasn't too effective, as you'd gotten lost in your thoughts, and sort of forgotten there were people around you, but it was kind of him to try. "Oh, yes, please." You smiled at him and a moment later he'd walked off, talking to Sirius about something, leaving you alone with Luka. Fenrir had disappeared to greet his family when you'd first arrived, and Seth was who knows where, but you didn't mind it being just the two of you. Luka rarely came to these, in fact this was the first he'd been to since you'd arrived in Cradle, despite it being your fifth, and you decided someone should stick with him so he didn't feel quite as nervous.

As you turned to say something to him, you noticed a lady making her way over to the both of you, looking rather flustered. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she seemed to be muttering something to herself, but it was clear she had intent to speak to one of you. Perhaps she wanted to talk to Luka? He was cute, it wouldn't surprise you. What did surprise you, however, was when she walked up to you instead.

"Um, excuse me if this is far too forward, but... would you be interested in dancing with me?" She sounded so nervous, and you almost wanted to say yes. Any other man would have been lucky to get such an invitation- she looked stunning. She wore her hair in curls, gathered at the back of her neck, with a hairpiece of pale blue flowers was pinned at the front, a necklace donning the same type of flower hanging just above the neckline of her gown. The gown in question matched the colour of the flowers well, though the width of the crinoline supported skirt would have made you concerned about the logistics of dancing with her- if you'd had any intention of saying yes. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she chewed her bottom lip and waited for your answer, avoiding your gaze. A hand on your chest and a sincerely apologetic look on your face, you began to respond. "Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry, but you seem to have gotten the wrong end of the stick. You're a very attractive young lady but I'm afraid... how should I put this," You glanced at Luka for help, but he seemed to have no idea what you were trying to tell her, "I'm afraid I don't tend to set my eye on the ladies, so to speak." "You're... gay?" A sympathetic nod. "That's the ticket. Sorry, love." "Oh, it's not a problem! I'm really sorry to have bothered you!" She suddenly looked much less nervous, though a little embarrassed, and scurried off. You sighed. "I feel a little bad. I really hope she finds someone to dance with." Luka looked at you quizzically. "Why did you lie to her?" A confused laugh escaped you. "I'm sorry?" "You told her you were into guys. Why lie?" As he said this, Seth and Fenrir came up behind him, and hearing his question their eyebrows shot up. So did yours. Was he kidding? "Luka, sweetie, you have got to tell me what part of my personality made you think I was heterosexual, so I can set about changing it immediately." Seth choked on his drink, and though you flashed him a grin, you weren't entirely kidding. Going from Victorian London to a world where being gay was perfectly acceptable had been quite the change, but you'd been certain all of your friends had known. It's not like you were quiet about it, and sure, Luka was naive but... come on, now. "Wait are you... you were being honest?" "Yes?" "Luka," Fenrir began, stepping next to you and resting an elbow on your shoulder, "How have you seriously not noticed that he's gay yet?" "Well- there was no reason for me to assume!" "You watched me drunk make out with at least 2 different Black Army soldiers in my first month here!" Luka looked flustered, and utterly dumbfounded. The expression was one he wore often, usually when people insinuated that someone was in love- but somehow about five times more confused. He was unfortunate enough that Ray and Sirius returned at this moment, just in time to hear both your last remark, and his next one.

"I thought that was just something you did when you were drunk?" In another moment you were on your knees, legs shaking so much from laughter that you couldn't hold yourself up any longer. Fenrir was right there beside you, practically convulsing. Everyone else was laughing too- except poor Luka. You felt a little bad, truly you did, but this had to be the funniest thing you had ever heard. "He's completely straight, but watch out! Get a couple drinks in him and he turns fruity!" Fenrir managed to get out between cackles, and Ray was glad to have put your drinks down when Luka had last spoken, because he too nearly fell to the ground at this.

"Luka- Luka I'm sorry." You pulled yourself to your feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "We aren't laughing at you." Another fit of giggles overcame you. "Okay we kind of are, but it's not malicious or anything. That was just... hands down the funniest thing you've ever said." It took most of you 5 or so minutes to fully calm down from what he'd said, and anything that jogged your memories of it would bring you back to a state of uncontrollable laughter for the rest of the night. Luka came round to it being pretty funny after you talked him through the dozens of times you'd mentioned your sexuality to him since you'd met- every one of which had gone over his head.

Hours after the party had worn down and you'd all made your way home, you lay in bed, your head pressed against a familiar chest, and sighed. "What's up?" "I just... D'you think anyone else just hasn't realised?" Ray cocked his head, confused. "I'm gonna need a little more info than that, kitten." "I suppose I just... Back in London, it's not even legal to be gay, and I don't know if it ever will be. When I first came out to Fen, he told me that it was fine here, accepted and even celebrated. So, I guess I just thought that people wouldn't make the automatic assumption that I'm straight, y'know? I mean I talk about it a lot among you guys but- when I’m out and about... where do people think my final destination is? When I pick up a silly cat themed gift for you does the shopkeep think I’m buying it for my wife? It shouldn't be a big deal, I guess, but I'd never been able to be myself until I came here, and now it's like I can be me but... people will still only see who I am if I tell them. It's just weird is all. I dunno. Maybe I'm drunk." "You're not drunk. It's an understandable concern. I guess I've never thought about it, because whether or not people would accept that part of me has never been an issue, but the fact that you've had to hide it for so long and now that you're able to be open people still aren't seeing it must be hard. If you want we could... come out, so to speak?" Your eyebrows raised, and you moved back, propping yourself up on your arm so you could look your partner in the eyes.

It had been decided at the very start of your relationship, which had officially begun a few months after you'd made the choice to stay in Cradle, that the two of you would keep it under wraps for a while. Being from the Land of Reason was more than enough reason for people to take an unwanted interest in you, and you didn't need the extra attention being the King of Spades' partner would garner. Plus, anyone with a grudge against Ray would see you as a target the second you announced it. It had been a sensible suggestion on his part, one you hadn't hesitated to agree to, and as far as you knew only Sirius and Fenrir knew about your relationship. Fenrir because he had walked in on you sitting in Ray's lap while he worked late one night, and Sirius because- well, can anything get past that guy? And now, Ray was offering to tell the entirety of Cradle you were his, just so that you didn't feel like you were hiding your identity anymore? You could feel your eyes starting to burn, and you cursed the late hour and the alcohol in your system for making you cry so easily, but... "I don't think we need to be that drastic. You were right when you said it would keep me safe for us to not be in the public eye, at least for now. I'm sure Seth can come up with some better way for me to tell the whole world I'm gay." "I don't doubt that at all." Ray grinned, placing a gentle kiss on first your forehead, then your nose, and finally on your lips. "Tomorrow, though. You need your beauty sleep." "Ah, yeah, can't risk getting ugly. My boyfriend might not want me anymore." You quipped. "Exactly." He smirked at you, turning out the light and pulling you into his arms.

[quickspinner]

Killer Combo Ch 7 - The Final Showdown

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Epilogue | Bonus Tidbits | ART inspired by this story! | AO3 | Fiction Master Post

I sincerely apologize to everyone who prefers short chapters, as this is another really long one. Pace yourselves as necessary, and thank you so much for persevering to the end with me. I'm so grateful for everyone who has read and liked or reblogged or replied, and I hope though the journey is uh, long, you will find it satisfying. You can search *** for the scene breaks if you need to stop and come back.

Kagami, predictably, was not happy when Marinette returned alone, but Juleka’s vindictive smirk when she heard what her brother was doing was enough to convince Kagami to delay any plans of vengeance she might have been making. “I hope he gives that bitch the earful she deserves,” Juleka muttered darkly, and then snorted. “But knowing Luka, he won’t. He’ll be all gentle and patient and she’ll keep arguing for way longer than he should let her before she realizes she might as well be talking to a brick wall.” 

“You don’t think,” Marinette began, and then stopped, reaching up to smooth her hair self-consciously, shifting her weight on her feet and feeling like a fool as several pairs of knowing eyes turned her way.

Juleka arched an eyebrow, but her smile was sympathetic. “I definitely don’t think,” she said warmly, reaching out to squeeze Marinette’s shoulder in a move that reminded her strongly of Luka. “Luka’s very perceptive and empathetic. It makes him too gentle sometimes, but he’s no pushover. She might think she has a chance, but he’s been over her for a long time. Even if he hadn’t... met anybody , she wouldn’t get anywhere with him.” She grabbed Marinette’s hand and pulled her towards the dance floor, reaching out her other hand to snag Rose on her way. “Now enough about my stupid brother, we only have like an hour of party left, let’s go have fun.” 

Marinette giggled, grabbing Kagami’s arm and pulling her along. 

Kagami had offered to let her stay overnight at the mansion, but Marinette had declined in favor of a ride home. She crept into her room as quietly as she could, sent her parents a text to let them know she was home just in case one of them woke up and worried, and went to wash her makeup off and get ready for bed. 

Her phone beeped just as she was drying off her face, and she picked it up to find a text from Luka. Just letting you know I made it home. Sorry for leaving so suddenly. 

Marinette sighed, and smiled slightly as she answered him. It’s okay, I understand. Did you get everything worked out in the end? She chewed her lip as she sent the message, but she needed to know, and there really wasn’t any good way to ask the question. She finished up with her moisturizer and climbed the stairs up to her bed, wincing at the ache in her feet.

She sat cross-legged on her bed to read his reply. As much as it can be. She’s not happy, but making her happy isn’t my job anymore. She got the message, finally, and that’s all that matters to me. 

Before she’d even finished reading that one, another message came in.

I know it’s really late and I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d really like to hear your voice one more time. Is it okay if I call?

Marinette really wanted to hear his voice too. Before she could second-guess herself too much, she hit the call button.

He picked up immediately. “Hey,” he said softly, voice a little rough and tired-sounding but still enough to make her feel warm and remember the soft touch of his lips against hers. 

“Hi,” she said shyly, suddenly breathless.

“Marinette,” he sighed, and she had to smile at the way he said her name, like he was relieved and happy and exhausted all at once. “I just wanted to say I am so, so sorry about how everything went down tonight, and also...thank you. I think I got some closure tonight that I really needed, and it was really thanks to you and your friends, and...and I’m just incredibly grateful. And I totally owe you a rain check on the party date because I was having a great time until—” he sighed again. “All that other stuff. Your friends are pretty cool.”  

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled, picking at the hem of her pants. “They really are. We’ve had our ups and downs, but the ones that have stuck around, they’re really amazing.” She sighed slightly through her nose, brow furrowing in annoyance. “And I’m really sorry you haven’t had the same experience.”

“Well,” Luka said, and the smile in his voice made her smile too, “I got a taste of it tonight. It’s nice to know friendships like that really exist. I mean, I know they do, I’ve had some...still have some, even if they’re far away, but...okay, I’m rambling and I’m keeping you awake and you’re probably just as tired as I am, but I just, um...I wanted to…” He took a deep breath, and went on a little too quickly, “When I kissed you tonight, I wasn’t, I didn’t do anything right and I was kind of overwhelmed and not thinking clearly, but I want you to know I really—” 

“Wait,” Marinette said quickly, her heart suddenly pounding. “Wait. I think...Luka, if it’s okay with you, I think I’d rather talk about this in person. Maybe when we’re both a little clearer headed than we are right now?”

“Yeah,” Luka said slowly. “Yeah, okay, I guess that makes sense. So...when can I see you in person?” 

Marinette winced, turning and pulling down her schedule. “I have so much to do this week,” she nearly moaned, fisting a hand in her hair and tugging hard. 

“Hey,” he said, and something in his voice made Marinette cringe. “It’s okay.”

“No, I want to, I promise I’m not blowing you off, I really want to talk about this with you, it’s just—of course everything always has to happen at once and…ugh, timing. ” Marinette chewed her lip, scanning across the week, trying to find some time. Surely she could spare him ten minutes somewhere...but was the conversation they needed to have something that she really could rush? What was she even doing, why didn’t she just let him say what he wanted to say, why was she...she was…

Hesitating. Why was she hesitating? Marinette chewed her lip and blew out a frustrated breath, forgetting that Luka was still on the phone. She jumped when he spoke again.

“Marinette,” Luka said, his tone gentle, and she made a distracted noise of acknowledgement. “Listen. Don’t sweat it. I know you have your presentation this week and the tournament, right? If you’re busy and you need some space, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. We can settle this afterwards. I’m not going anywhere. Well. Not until we talk, at least.” 

Marinette’s eyes landed on the weekend, colored in red and outlined in black. “The tournament,” she said softly. “The championship. We could...we could talk there? Maybe after?” 

Luka was silent for a moment, and Marinette heard him take a deep breath. “Is that the best time?” he said cautiously. “Do we really want to have that on our minds?” 

“You know what,” Marinette said, beginning to smile. “I think it’s the perfect time. It’s where we met, afterall.”

“Well,” Luka said, and she could tell he was smiling too. “There is a certain poetry to that.” 

“Okay,” Marinette said, her smile growing into a grin. “After I’m done kicking your ass in the finals, then.” 

“Oh, brave words from the lady with the forty percent win rate against me,” he laughed, and Marinette made a face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Max,” she accused. 

“Max is a fun guy,” Luka chuckled. “Not as much fun as you, but you know, he has his moments.” 

Why was she so pleased at that, that he preferred her company over Max, ugh she was pathetic. She covered a giggle anyway, but it turned into a yawn.

“I’ll let you go to sleep,” Luka said, amusement clear in his voice. “Good luck this week, Marinette, and I’ll see you this weekend and...we’ll talk.” 

“Yes,” Marinette nodded decisively, though he couldn’t see her. “We will.” 

***

Two days later and elbow deep in unfinished clothes that were supposed to be runway ready in less than twenty-four hours, Marinette was actually feeling good about her decision to defer her talk with Luka.

Not everyone agreed, however.

“ Girl ,” Alya screeched from Marinette’s floor, where she was hammering rivets into a jacket. Max winced from where he was sitting at Marinette’s desk, pliers in his hand and a spool of jewelry wire next to him. “Why did you do that?” 

Marinette sighed, and bit her lip. “Because—” 

“Because what? ” Alya demanded.

“Because I need to be the one to say it,” Marinette sighed, as she rearranged the fabric on her sewing machine. “It’s just...it’s something I need to do, Alya. I don’t expect you to understand.” 

“Oh I understand,” Alya sighed. “I just think it’s silly. You could be making out right now if you’d just let him say his piece.” 

“First of all,” Marinette grumbled. “You don’t know that, you’re making assumptions. He could have been about to say he really values my friendship and he doesn’t want anything to change. Second, I have way too much to do this week. I wouldn’t have time for making out even if I did have a hot new boyfriend to do it with. Third, I just...I told you, I need to do it. I need to know that I can put myself out there and tell a boy I like him and not just...let it happen to me.”

“You must have done that lots of times, Marinette, what about all those guys you made out with that last year of high school?” 

Marinette rolled her eyes, glancing at Max with a blush, though he was studiously ignoring the conversation, focused on the task in front of him. “It’s not even close to being the same thing.” She felt a little ashamed, actually, of the way she’d used some of those guys, even though they were usually more than happy to be used and she’d never been dishonest with any of them. “This isn’t about just kissing and proving to myself that someone can like me and be attracted to me. It’s not just as simple as asking a cute guy to a party, I just…” She sighed. “It’s the first time I’ve really felt like this since then, with all the butterflies and the fear and the...the…” 

“Passion?” suggested Alya smugly, and Marinette rolled her eyes again.

“Whatever. The point is, I just need to be the one to say it, and I want to do it face to face.” 

“Well, maybe you’re right and I don’t really get it,” Alya sighed. “It sounds like he’s pretty into you, so it seems like you’re splitting unnecessary hairs. But I guess you do what you have to do, girl.”

“I will,” Marinette said firmly, “And what I need to do now is get these garments finished for my presentation so I can put that to bed and focus on beating my gorgeous potential boyfriend this weekend before I confess my—”

“Yeeees?” Alya teased.

“Feelings,” Marinette finished with a flush. “Look, can we be done talking about this now?” 

“Fine,” Alya rolled her eyes and put the hammer down, stretching her fingers. “I’m going to go grab some water, do you guys want some?”

“Yes, please,” Marinette and Max chorused together, and Alya stood up. Before heading to the trap door, she crossed the room to look over Max’s shoulder at the wire he was twisting to match the sketch Marinette had given him. 

“Wow, Max, you’re surprisingly good at that,” Alya commented, and Max gave her a look over his glasses.

“I know my way around wires and a pair of pliers, thank you very much,” Max sniffed. “It’s not that different from wiring a circuit board.” 

“Well, the next time you need help with something like that, count me in,” Marinette said, frowning as she tried to untangle the mess her bobbin had mysteriously become. “I owe you guys sooooo much for this.”

“I will give your offer due consideration when the time inevitably comes,” Max replied. “Incidentally, do you happen to have another ticket to the show? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“Max, really?” Alya sighed, heading towards the trap door. “You’re going to ask her that now? Have you checked under your piles of nerd crap?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Marinette said, reaching over to grab a decorated box on her desk and rummage through it. “Here you go, Max. Kagami can’t make it so I had one more than I needed anyway.” 

“Thank you, Marinette,” Max said, with a grin that would have made her look twice if she hadn’t been so preoccupied. 

As it was she barely noticed it, and forgot it entirely until much later, when her presentation was over and the high of achievement and the exhilaration of her first really professional fashion show were finally wearing off and she was about to fall into bed for the night. As she fumbled to plug her phone into the charger, she noticed a text on the screen and paused. 

It was from Luka.

You were fantastic up there. Sorry I couldn’t stay long enough to see you after. Congratulations, all the hard work paid off. 

Marinette gaped at the phone for a moment. You were there? she texted back, and then berated herself for not checking the time first. He was probably asleep, he must have sent that text hours ago.

Even as she thought it, her phone pinged with a response.

Yeah, I hope that was okay. Tell Max thanks for the ticket. ;) 

Marinette gaped again, and then pouted for a moment before hitting the call button. 

Luka picked up right away. “Surprise,” he said, laughter in his warm voice.

“Max is a sneak,” Marinette pouted, though she was trying not to smile. “And I’m going to kill him.” 

“Max is a sneak,” Luka agreed. “But don’t be mad. I ran into him the other day and asked how you were, and we got to talking, and I let it slip that I really wished I could be there, and he gave me his ticket on the spot. Made me promise not to tell you until after, though. I would’ve stayed to say congrats but I had a gig I had to get to, and...well I didn’t want to make things weird.” 

“I’m glad you were there,” Marinette smiled, and then added shyly, “You really think I did well?” 

“You did amazing,” he said sincerely, and Marinette felt a thrill that made her wiggle a little in place. “I know a thing or two about stage presence, and you’ve definitely got it. I’m really glad I got to see you present. And...well I can’t claim to know much about fashion, but I really liked what you did.” 

A hot flush raced up her face and she slapped a hand over it even though he couldn’t see her. 

“Marinette? You okay?”

Marinette made an affirmative noise. “Sorry. I just...that makes me really happy. That you think so. That you liked it. I—” She made a high pitched whine. “I’m not making any sense.” 

“It’s late and you’re tired,” Luka chuckled. “It’s fine. I don’t want to keep you up any longer, I just wanted to let you know I was there. Juleka said it was creepy to show up without telling you.” 

Marinette giggled. “Well, she maybe has a point. I would have gotten tickets for you and Juleka both if you had asked.”

“Sorry,” Luka sighed, and she heard a thump that she thought might be his head hitting a table. “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just...I knew it was important to you and…I know you needed space and I didn’t want to confuse anything and—” He cut off with a strangled noise and sighed. “Okay, I’m going to tell you good night now and hang up before I dig myself any deeper.” 

Marinette had to bite her lip to stop her giggling, “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m really glad you were there, Luka. Really. That...it was important to me, and it’s an important part of me, and I didn’t think about it before but...I’m really glad I got to show you that. Seeing you play on stage, I felt like I really got to see an important side of you that I didn’t know anything about, so...I hope maybe tonight was like that for you.” She bit her tongue, feeling like she wasn’t explaining herself well. 

“It was,” Luka said, his voice softening a little in a way that made her shiver. “It really was, and…” He paused, and cleared his throat. “Well. I know you’ve been working hard and I don’t want to keep you up any later. I just wanted to tell you I thought you did great tonight and I’m super impressed, as always. Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Sleep,” Marinette repeated, hand still over her face. “Sleep would be good. Maybe for like a week.” 

“You’ve really been running hard, huh,” Luka said sympathetically. “Once all this is over, we’ll take some time and just hang out and relax. I’ll play for you.” 

“Really?” Marinette perked up.

“Yeah,” Luka chuckled. “Just like that day on the boat.”

“That was nice,” Marinette smiled, finally letting her hand slide down off her face. 

“Mm. It really was.”

There was a long pause. 

“I should—” she began, just as he said, “You should—” and they both laughed. 

“Good night, Marinette,” Luka said at last. “Rest well.” 

“Good night, Luka,” Marinette murmured. “See you soon.” 

“Soon,” he repeated, and hung up. 

A few minutes later her phone beeped with one final text.

Can’t wait to see you this weekend.

Marinette sent back a single pink heart and fell back giggling onto her bed, kicking her feet for a second in a brief burst of energy before she crawled under the covers and fell asleep with a grin on her face. 

When Max showed up for practice the next day, she punched him in the arm, and then threw her arms around his neck. “You’re a great friend,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “And I hate you.”

Max just chuckled and patted her back.

***

The morning of the UMSIII Master League Championship, Marinette was a fluttering, nervous wreck. That wasn’t totally unexpected, and her parents put up cheerfully with her clumsiness, absentmindedness, and confusion, giving her gentle encouragement and moving the breakables quietly out of her path. Finally they kissed her goodbye, handed her the bag she’d been about to forget, and promised that they would be in the stands with the rest of her friends. 

She leaned her head on the cool metal rail of the subway and tried to breathe. There was a lot on the line today. Marinette was fairly confident she could place, but...she wanted to win. There was a steep drop in the prize value between first and second place and an even sharper drop between second and third. She wanted to do well, yes, but really she wanted to win. 

Luka wanted to win too, and that made her stomach twist. She hadn’t seen him in person since the night of the party. Other than their brief conversations, Marinette had been trying not to think too hard about him, to focus on the competition in her practice sessions with Max, but she wasn’t entirely successful. A lot of things had fallen into place for her since she’d seen him on stage. Now she understood how he played to the crowd in his interviews, the way he could project his voice in a crowd, the calm, easy going demeanor he kept up even in the heat of competition. He was used to pressure, he was used to crowds, he was a trained vocalist, and he enjoyed having an audience. Marinette felt like she had a much better picture of him in her mind now, a better understanding of who he was, and everything she knew just made her want to know more. 

She was determined to tell him so. 

But first she had to get through the tournament. And some small, ugly little part of her was afraid. Would he still want to talk to her if she beat him? 

Of course he would. It was ridiculous to think otherwise. It was just a game, after all.

A game with both their dreams on the line.

She almost missed her metro stop. 

Marinette swallowed hard as she walked up to the huge stadium and showed her player pass to the guard. She was on her own for the moment; the individual finals would be held in the afternoon and the team competition in the evening, so Max couldn’t come with her. Marinette was the only player in the finals for both the individual and the team championship. Well, and Luka. Technically he was still part of the team, even if he wouldn’t play.

She was escorted to a small lounge area where other players had already begun to congregate. She scanned the room but didn’t see Luka. Marinette wandered back and forth aimlessly, growing more and more restless the longer they were stuck waiting, her thoughts growing scattered and fragmented and her hands starting to shake slightly. She wished she’d brought her sketchbook, or some knitting. Something, anything, to vent her energy on and focus her mind.

A touch on her shoulder made her jump and she whirled around to find Luka behind her, looking surprised and then apologetic, shoulders hunching slightly. “Sorry. I called your name, but…” He shrugged and held out a bottle of water, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Marinette smiled shyly back. “Sorry, I guess I was zoned out.” She took the bottle and twisted off the cap. “Too much energy and nowhere to spend it.” She took a sip, peeking at him around the bottle. He wasn’t wearing his Viperion hoodie, but his old one, with her red stitching at the seams. She focused on the logo on his chest as she lowered the bottle. “New shirt?”

“Yeah,” Luka rolled his eyes. “The league sent it to me. Apparently they don’t want their vintage branding on the livestream tonight, so they asked me to wear the new logo.” 

Marinette huffed a quiet laugh. “Naturally.” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “The old one was better.”

“Right?” Luka groaned. “I almost wore it anyway, but…” He shrugged. “Wasn’t worth the fight, to be honest.” 

Marinette started to ask why he hadn’t worn his Viperion hoodie, but changed her mind, not sure that she wanted to know the answer. Instead she blurted, “You look good,” and promptly wanted to kick herself. He did look good; the new shirt fit him better than the old one, his hair was styled more deliberately than usual and the color in it looked recently touched up, bright and vibrant. He was freshly shaved and, she was pretty sure, wearing a touch of makeup, probably to keep from looking washed out under the lights. Of course he would consider those things. Was that peach lipstick? It was a good color on him.

Oh God she was staring. 

“You do too,” Luka smiled, reaching up to brush her pigtail back behind her shoulder. suddenly he winced and jerked his hand back quickly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—sorry if I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said, catching the hand he was pulling back. “Really, Luka, I don’t mind. I know it’s how you connect. I know you won’t do anything inappropriate, and I don’t mind the rest, so just don’t worry about it.” 

Luka relaxed, and she squeezed his hand before letting go of it. “Thanks,” he said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and stopping just in time. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Marinette, who found herself beginning to fidget again. “Are you okay?”

Marinette smiled, but her face felt like wood. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly, and Marinette noticed absently that he was wearing eyeliner. “You don’t look fine,” he observed, and nudged the hand holding the water bottle. “Drink. It’s going to be crazy once things get going. Better to start hydrating now.” 

Marinette drank, more because she didn’t feel like arguing than from actually believing she needed it. “How can you be so calm?” she asked with a gusty sigh after she lowered the bottle.

Luka shrugged and flashed a grin. “Don’t forget I’ve done this before. Helps that I was practically raised on stage, so the lights, the effects, none of that really bothers me.” He put a hand on her shoulder and massaged gently. “I’m honestly a little surprised to see you so tense. I didn’t think anything would rattle you after seeing you up on stage before. You owned it and you didn’t look nervous at all.” 

“That was fashion,” Marinette hissed, glancing at the other competitors. “And I was busy. I didn’t have time to freak out. Not like this, with all the...the waiting. ” She tugged at her pigtails and resisted the urge to whine. “I just want to get started already! Just—all this—” she flapped her hands, trying to indicate the pent-up energy inside her. “There’s nowhere for it to go.” 

“Ah.” Luka glanced away, and then looked at her again. “I don’t know if it would help, but...want to meditate with me? I always try to meditate for at least a few minutes before I have to go on stage. Or into a competition.” 

Marinette blinked at him, for a moment and he shrugged. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine, I know it’s a little weird, to think about sitting still when you’re so worked up—” 

“No, I—that sounds good.” Marinette glanced around. “But where—”  

Luka tipped his head to indicate a direction and Marinette followed him to a corner of the lounge where there was an old, battered, but currently empty sofa. He sat down and Marinette sat next to him. She glanced around a little self-consciously but most of the competitors were focused on their own pre-game rituals. The nervous chatterers were congregated together, fidgeting back and forth as they all talked over each other. Several others had headphones and closed eyes, a couple were pacing, and the only other female competitor in the room was staring at the ground, mumbling with her eyes closed and her weight shifting from foot to foot. No one was paying the two of them any mind at all. 

“Everybody’s too worried about their own game to care what we do,” Luka murmured, slipping a guitar pick out of his pocket and rotating it in his fingers. “Don’t worry about them, just focus on you.” He held the pick between his thumb and forefinger and breathed in slowly, and then out, closing his eyes. 

Marinette watched him for a moment, then placed one hand over the other in her lap, palms up, and did the same. It took some effort to keep from fidgeting, to force the circumstances from her mind and bring her scattered focus to her breathing and the flow of her energy, but Luka’s calm presence and the slow, regular swell of his ribs moving his arm against hers, helped her settle her mind.

As she breathed, the nervous flutters ebbed. She felt more solidly in her skin than she had all day. The tension was still there, but it was more focused now, less chaotic. She felt worlds better...but a little guilty.

“You shouldn’t be helping me so much,” Marinette murmured, her eyes still closed.

Luka’s shoulder vibrated against hers as he chuckled. “Have you looked at the brackets? Clearly the marketing geniuses have been at work because we don’t face each other until the finals. I want you to be there, not flame out from nerves in your first matchup.” After a moment he added quietly, “And you’re my friend. I can’t see you unhappy and not help. You’ve done a lot for me too, you know.” 

Marinette unfolded her hands and fumbled blindly beside her. She found his forearm and slid her hand down to slip her fingers through his and squeezed. 

“I’m really glad I met you, Luka,” she whispered. “Whatever happens today, I hope we can...” She hesitated, not wanting to say stay friends, because that wasn’t what she wanted. She opened one eye and peeked at him, and saw his eyes open as well as he smiled at her. His thumb caressed the back of her hand lightly.

“I hear you,” he said softly, and the drop in his voice made her insides quiver pleasantly. She was suddenly extremely aware of the rough skin of his hand enveloping hers, the warmth of where their shoulders pressed together. “I’m glad we met too. I want you to be in my life, no matter what happens today.” 

Marinette had to press her lips together to contain her smile. “Yeah...me too.” 

Luka glanced at the other players and gently extracted his hand. He took Marinette’s wrist and put her hand back on her own knee before curling his fingers back together and closing his eyes. Marinette understood, folding her hands back together and deepening her breathing again. It wouldn’t do for them to be cuddling too obviously in front of everyone else. There would already be talk, she was sure, if Ladybug and Viperion began dating after the tournament was over, no matter who won. 

But before she could think of that, she had to win.

And before she could even think about beating Luka, she had other competitors to worry about. He was right. She needed to focus and not let the situation get the better of her.

She stayed there, meditating alongside Luka, until the handlers came to get the players and walk them through their entrances and the procedures between matches. The sight of the jumbotron overhead and the giant stadium full of currently empty but soon-to-be-packed seats made Marinette’s nerves flare up again. Luka’s hand squeezed her shoulder, bringing her focus back to the moment.

“Hey,” he murmured when she looked up at him. “It’s just another match. The livestream’s just a little more up close and personal than we’re used to.” He grinned at her. “They’re all coming to see Ladybug and Viperion face off.” 

Marinette grinned back, and then brought her attention back to the handler explaining the procedure and reiterating the rules.The quarter finals and semifinals would be best two out of three, and the finals best three out of five. Matches would be held simultaneously using the pyrapods set up at ground level, and at the back, an elevated stage contained two pyrapods that would be used for the finals. 

None of this was news and Marinette was back to shifting from foot-to-foot impatiently, checking the time. Luka seemed as calm and relaxed as ever, but she could see the tightness beginning around his eyes and knew he was ready to get started too. 

Finally they were dumped back in the lounge, and Marinette went to the restroom. She’d done the rest of her routine at home, but she wanted her makeup mask fresh and bright. The ritual of putting it on, dusting the red mask across her eyes and drawing in her spots, calmed some of her resurging nerves, and when she straightened up from the mirror, Ladybug looked back at her. 

Ladybug was not going to lose because of stage fright.

Marinette reached back into her makeup bag and hesitated as her hand found her tube of black lipstick. She bit her lip and looked at her reflection again. The championship seemed like a bad time to be making changes, but…

Marinette swapped the black lipstick for red and painted her lips with quick, decisive movements, and then snapped the cap back on with a quiet click. She made sure her pigtails were still tight and secure, tapped her lucky earrings three times, and then zipped up her bag and went back to the lounge, already feeling more confident and ready to compete.

Luka caught her eye immediately when she stepped back inside, and she saw him grin at the change, but then the competitors were being herded out of the lounge and into the tunnel they would take into the arena.

In the chaos, she felt Luka’s hand wrap around hers and squeeze, and quickly let go. The competitors milled around in the tunnel aimlessly, well back from the fog machine spewing smoke near the entrance, until two production assistants dressed in black brusquely took charge and lined them up in a supposedly randomly generated but very important order, warning them to not, under any circumstances, shuffle the order or cross the line before their names were called or move from their place in line. Marinette found herself in the middle of the line, with Luka right beside her. “Random, huh,” Luka chuckled. “Yeah, right.” 

“They’re really hyping us up,” Marinette agreed. 

“Guess we better not let them down.” Luka and Marinette exchanged a look, and then a fistbump. “See you in the finals, Ladybug,” he grinned. 

“I’ll be there,” she grinned back. “You better not stand me up, Viperion.”

“Never.” 

“Oh my God, get a room,” muttered the guy on Marinette’s other side. “You two are disgusting.” 

Marinette flushed, but Luka just chuckled again. “Aww, Pharaoh, you know I love beating you too, it’s just not in the cards today, man.”

Pharaoh scowled over Marinette’s head at him. “Kiss my ass, snake boy.” 

“Oh, when Ladybug here’s done kicking it you’re gonna need somebody to,” Luka said, winking at Marinette. “‘Fraid I’ll be busy, though. Tagger can do it for me, he’ll be free.”

“I hate you so much,” Tagger, Luka’s first round opponent, grumbled from down the line. “Fucking cocky bastard.” 

Marinette giggled, and Luka nudged her shoulder playfully with his. She looked up into his face and she could see the thrill of competition beginning to get to him, in his pirate grin and the sparkle in his eyes, and the challenge there sparked Marinette’s own competitive spirit.

“He’s not wrong,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I thought the very same thing to myself during our first match.” Luka feigned being struck in the heart. 

“Betrayal!” he laughed. “I’m not cocky, I’m right. It’s not boasting if you can back it up.” 

“You can back it up all the way to second place.” Marinette poked him in the chest and he grabbed her hand, leaning down over her with a grin.

“Don’t make me break out Max’s win percentages again.” 

“The numbers can’t help you now,” Marinette shot back, pulling her hand free. She stepped up close to him and looked up into his face, shoulders back and hands on her hips. “We’re starting with a clean slate today and all that matters is here and now. I hope you enjoyed winning all those matches, Viperion, because it’s only going to make it sweeter when I finally take you down.” 

Luka bit his lip, and Marinette quirked her eyebrow a little higher, and then Pharaoh coughed, making them both jump. “We’re still here, you know,” he said sardonically as Marinette and Luka turned away from each other, Luka clearly fighting a grin, pink coloring the high points of his cheeks, and Marinette turning a brilliant red that she could only hope would fade before she was announced.

Mercifully the announcer began calling names, distracting everyone as a murmur of excitement went down the line.

Suddenly there was no one in front of Marinette and her heart began to pound.

“Ladybug!” the announcer roared, and the crowd erupted into a deafening roar that startled her. Marinette wasn’t given time to hesitate, though; the production assistant planted a hand in the middle of her back and shoved her forward into the fog. For a moment she was blind and confused, but then she stumbled out of the fog and into the bright lights of the stadium. Marinette quickly pasted on a wide smile and raised her arms to wave with both hands to the crowd, though her knees felt like jelly at the sight of so many people and her own promo picture on the jumbotron, smirking at the camera in full makeup and a challenging posture.

Somehow she made it across the field to her mark next to Pharaoh, and then the announcer was calling Viperion, and she turned her head, clapping automatically as Luka emerged from the fog and waved, looking completely at ease with his usual relaxed smile as he sauntered over to stand next to her. Part of the stadium started up a chant for him and he waved again, ducking his head slightly. Suddenly a competing chant of Ladybug! Ladybug! came up and Luka nudged her with a grin. She raised a slightly shaky hand to wave back, and then Luka made a settle down gesture with his hands. Marinette copied him and the chants died down so the announcer could call the next player. 

Marinette curled her fingers together, willing herself not to take Luka’s hand or grab onto his sleeve. Beside her, Luka folded his arms, and she wondered if he was fighting the same urge to touch her. He glanced at her and then quickly away, and her cheeks warmed, and she quickly aimed her suddenly much more sincere smile at the crowd, waving again. 

“You’ve got this, Ladybug,” Viperion leaned down to whisper when the announcer dismissed them to their pods. “I’ll be cheering for you.” 

“Worry about yourself,” Ladybug grinned and winked. “Like you said, I’ve got this.” 

Viperion grinned and shook his head as they separated.

Marinette was still nervous but smiling as she stepped into her pod and picked up her headset. “Viperion’s going to be so disappointed when I beat you,” Pharaoh said as soon as the channel was active. “Poor little Ladybug’s about to get squashed.” 

Marinette snorted. “I hope your game is more interesting than your trash talk,” she snickered. “If that’s as creative as you can get this is going to be really boring.” Pharaoh spluttered and Marinette grinned as the countdown began to blink. The controller in her hands felt like a part of her by now, and she bounced on her toes a little, eager for things to finally begin.

It wasn’t easy; crappy trash talk aside, Pharaoh was a highly ranked player and skilled enough to be a challenge. It was a perfect first match for her, actually, because she had to think to beat him and once her mind was focused and fully immersed in the game, she overcame the few mistakes she’d made early on. She was grinning broadly as she stepped out of the pod and raised her arms to acknowledge the cheers that followed when the announcer boomed out her name as the winner. Even as she did, though, she was looking for the leaderboard on the giant screen above them. At first she saw only her own flushed and happy face, but then the leaderboard reappeared, Viperion’s name blinking and then advancing to the next level. 

“Yes!” Marinette squealed, jumping up and down in place. She whipped her head towards Luka’s pod and watched him emerge. He looked up immediately just as she had, and punched the air and looked back at her with a broad grin. They both stood and watched as one by one the other players turned red or blinked green and advanced. 

Like Kagami’s party, like her presentation and fashion show, everything seemed to go by in a whirl and a blur. Months of preparation and planning and practice and the slow-motion waiting of the morning gave way to a heart-pounding, adrenaline-pumping whirl as she faced down match after match, dominating some and barely squeaking by others. Before she knew it, she was staring up at the jumbotron while the crowd screamed and the announcer cried, “And this is what we’ve all been waiting for, this is what we all came here to see! The final matchup in the Master League Championship will be! Ladybug! Versus! Viperioooooooon!”

Marinette raised her arms and waved with both hands again as the crowd cheered then she was being ushered off the field, back into the tunnel and then to the backstage area to wait while the runners up duked it out for third and fourth place and the crew made sure everything was set up for the final.

Marinette stared up at the steps to the stage and felt herself start to shake. She didn’t even notice Luka speaking at her side until he took her arm and turned her to face him. 

“Marinette, are you okay?” he asked, the grin quickly dropping from his face as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” she said, trying to smile. “I’m f-fine.” 

“You’re pale as a ghost.” Luka’s expression was grave and worried and he pulled her over to a chair and pushed her into it. “Sit. Breathe, Marinette. Are you dizzy?” 

“I’m fine,” Marinette said, trying to take his advice and slow her breathing. “I’m okay. I just...I need a second.” 

She felt Luka move away, but he was back in moments, kneeling in front of her to press a bottle of water into her hand. “Drink,” he ordered, helping her sit up. “Look at me.” He put his fingers under her chin and gently tipped it up so he could look into her eyes. “You’re sure you’re okay? Do you need the medic?” 

“No,” Marinette said, taking a deep breath before lifting the water to her trembling lips. “I’m all right, Luka.” She drank and then sighed. “That was just really intense.” She shot a sardonic smile up at him. “It felt really good though.”

Luka grinned as he took her hand between both of his and rubbed it gently. “It’s a rush, no doubt.” 

Marinette took another drink and mumbled weakly, “Gonna be even better when I beat you.” 

Luka laughed softly and leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. Something about that touch was very comforting and she leaned into it. “I’m gonna give you a fight, I hope you know that,” Luka told her. “I’m not going to just hand it to you because you’re—” He paused, and Marinette back to look at him. He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, and Marinette wasn’t sure what might have happened if the production assistants hadn’t come looking for them just then. Luka stood up quickly, turning away from her for a moment, and Marinette put a hand over her chest, feeling the frantic flutter of her heart against her palm. 

“Head in the game, Ladybug,” Marinette murmured to herself before she shoved up out of her chair, shaking out her limbs and noting that at least her hands weren’t trembling anymore. 

It was time. The handlers lined them up shoulder to shoulder, in front of a fog-covered arch similar to the one on the field. 

Luka caught her hand and Marinette let him lace their fingers together. His hold was tighter than she expected and she glanced up at him. That competition spark was in his eyes and she could see the tension across his shoulders. He really was pumped up for this. 

He let go of her hand before they walked out together through the fog, waving at the cheering. The lights were hotter and brighter on the stage and Marinette’s nerves increased. She turned to shake hands with Luka and met his eyes, feeling like she was standing outside of her body, but simultaneously hyper aware of his touch and the blue of his eyes and the quirk of his smile before his hand slid away and they each turned to get into their pyrapods. 

Marinette came back to herself a bit when the pod slid closed behind her, shutting out the lights and the noise. She became aware of how fast she was breathing and made an effort to slow it down before she picked up her headset and put it on. 

“Hanging in there, Bug?” Luka asked, and though his voice was teasing she knew he was checking on her.

“You wanted it,” she replied, “I’m gonna bring it.”

“Show me what you got, Ladybug,” he chuckled, and Marinette grinned, pleased that he remembered after all this time. “I can take it.”

The countdown flashed on the screen, and Marinette took one last deep breath. “It’s been a long time since that first match,” Marinette pointed out with a smile. “I’m not the same newbie you played back then.”

“I know,” he said, and she could see his pirate grin in her mind (and she was kind of glad she couldn’t see it projected on the big screen outside; at that magnitude it might actually kill her). “I can’t wait.”

Once they started playing, there was no time to think about anything but the game. 

Luka won the first match, and Marinette couldn’t help her sigh, annoyed with herself. She’d been nervous and jumpy in the beginning and it had cost her. She and Luka were so evenly matched at this point that both knew they couldn’t give an inch or make a single mistake. She was going to have to do better. 

“It’s just the first match,” she heard Luka say over her headset, and she wasn’t sure if it was meant to comfort her or steady him. 

“I never thought it would be easy,” Marinette replied, and then smiled. “So let’s give the people the show they came for.” 

“You know it,” he laughed.

The next match was closer but Luka won that one too, and Marinette bit her lip hard, fighting the churning feeling in her stomach. If she lost the next one, that was it; she couldn’t afford to lose any more. 

Luka groaned as the third match ended. “Man, how do you do that. I was sure I had you there.” 

“I’m full of surprises,” Marinette replied, putting down the controller and shaking out her hands. They trembled slightly from the close call; he really had almost had her, and that would have been the end.

“You really are,” Luka chuckled. “Playing you is never boring, that’s for sure. Okay, just one more match to go.” 

“Oh, don’t count your trophies before they’re in the case,” Marinette muttered, narrowing her eyes though a smile tugged at her mouth. “No way I’m letting you take it that easily.”

“We’ll see,” Luka said, and then the countdown started again. 

The fourth match turned out to be an easy win for Marinette; Luka misjudged his timing early on and Marinette gave him no time to recover.

Marinette had to take a few more deep breaths as they prepared for the fifth and final match. Her stomach felt like jelly but her hands were steady. One more. She just had to beat him one more time. Either way, all of this would be over soon. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that so she pushed it aside, needing all her focus for the game. 

It was close, it was so close. Both of them had just a sliver of health left and Marinette was starting to panic. She’d managed to deflect his first venom strike, but the fight had gone on long enough that the ability had recharged and she hadn’t been able to dodge a second time. He didn’t even have to land another attack; if he held her off long enough, he would win with the recurring damage from the venom strike. She needed to take him out, but he kept interrupting her attacks, taking low level damage from her defensive moves to prevent her from getting a combo attack together. He was gambling that he could hold out until the venom strike wiped out the last of her health bar, and it was a bet he was going to win if Marinette couldn’t get off a decent attack. 

She bit her lip and tried to think. His armor has always been his weak point; she just needed to get one killer combo off and he’d be finished. Luka knew it, too. If he failed to interrupt her even once she’d take him out. Every time he attacked her directly, though, he took damage from her shields and counterattack. He could keep gambling on his health to hold out until the venom strike, or if he timed it just right, he could get his stun attack off and freeze her. If he could get the move off, she’d be held just long enough for the venom strike to finish her. 

But he couldn’t interrupt her attacks while he was charging the ability. If he tried it, and she was fast enough...she’d have to be so fast. It would have to be bug bombs, they were the fastest, and they should be enough. She’d have to be ready and watching, and...

Will he still want to be with me if I beat him? Or will I just be another girl that ruined his dreams?

The thought was both terrifying and unwelcome but even as it hit her, she saw Viperion draw back and begin to charge a glowing ball between his hands. Marinette had no time to deliberate, no time for hesitation. Her fingers moved and her mech exploded into action. She executed the attack and dropped the controller, grabbing her hair with her hands as she watched.

The stun left Viperion’s hands—and her bug bombs landed. Even as her mech froze in place, Viperion went down in a series of dramatic explosions. 

The screen flashed GAME OVER. It flashed up a picture of her mech with the word WINNER over and over.

“Holy sh—,” she heard Luka whisper, but the channel cut off.

She won.

She won.

Numbly she reached up and took off her headset as the pod door slid open behind her. 

She stepped out shakily, looking up uncomprehendingly at the crowd.

Across from her, Luka’s pod door was sliding open. The second there was room, Luka exploded out, leaping out with one of his deafening whoops as he caught her up in a bearhug that nearly took the breath from her. He swung her around. 

“That was amazing,” he shouted, nearly in her ear to be heard over the crowd. “I thought there was no way you could get an attack off fast enough, but you knew—you knew I was going to do it, didn’t you, you were ready, you’re so incredible—” 

“Luka,” Marinette gasped, and laughing, Luka set her down on her feet.

Before Marinette could do more than gasp in a breath, he had ducked down and—well she wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but suddenly she shrieked as he ducked his head under her leg and somehow managed to lift her onto his shoulders despite her flailing. He caught her hands and steadied her, and then let go of one hand to pump his fist in the air and cheer for her. Marinette kept a death grip on his other hand but she managed to smile and reach up to wave at the crowd, letting out a breathless laugh once the shock wore off. The crowd was cheering and her face was on the jumbotron, smiling but still looking more stunned than victorious. Luka turned in a slow circle so she could wave at the whole crowd until her arm was sore. 

It took her a minute to realize the announcer was trying to get her attention. “Ladybug, you are the Ultimate Mecha Strike III regional champion! Congratulations! How do you feel right now?” A slightly hysterical giggle escaped her at the way he had to hold the microphone up above his head to catch her answer. 

“I feel amazing, but my day isn't over yet,” she laughed. 

“That’s right, we’ll see you as part of Team Lucky Charm in the team competition later tonight! We’ll be looking forward to that. Viperion, you and Ladybug have had quite the rivalry going on and you were heavily the favorite to win coming into this event. How do you feel about taking second place tonight?” 

“I can’t be sore about a loss like that,” Luka laughed. “Of course I wanted to win, but—” He shook her head. “You can’t deny that was brilliant.” He patted Marinette’s leg on his shoulder. “Congratulations, Ladybug. The best player definitely won today.” 

“All right, look for more exclusive interview content with Ladybug and Viperion on the blog later tonight,” the announcer said into the microphone, looking up into the crowd. “We’re going to take a short recess to get things ready here and then we’ll be back to bring you the Master League team championship. “Congratulations again, Ladybug and Viperion.”  

He gestured them back towards the arch, and Luka carried Marinette back through it, both of them waving at the crowd as they went.

Marinette’s legs felt like jelly as she scrambled down from Luka’s shoulders, and he held her elbows as she swayed slightly, and when she was steady he hugged her tight. “Congratulations.”

“You’re not mad?” she asked softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

Luka curled a finger under her chin and tipped her face up so that she was looking at him more directly. “I’m not mad,” he promised, and the soft smile he gave her and the gentle look in his eyes made her believe him. “I’ll be disappointed, probably, tomorrow. I’ll have to scale back my plans. But that’s okay. I took a chance and it didn’t work out in my favor. You played your best. No regrets here. I’m so happy for you, too, and impressed, and…” he paused, and took a deep breath. “I’m definitely not mad.” His hand moved up to cup her cheek, and his thumb brushed over her face for a moment. 

“Viperion, Ladybug! Press room, let’s go.” 

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, but Luka just chuckled and put a hand on her arm. She went with him a little numbly until they were separated for the post-game interviews. Marinette wasn’t sure anything she said was coherent, but she had enough presence of mind to work in a mention of the bakery and her fashion business, so hopefully it wasn’t a total loss. 

“I’m sure you did great,” Luka told her as they walked out. 

“I hope so,” Marinette sighed, putting a hand against her forehead and flapping her hoodie to get some air under it. “But it’s over now, so no point in worrying about it.” 

“Yeah,” Luka smiled, and then nudged her shoulder with his arm. “I guess you better go. You’re not done yet, remember?” 

“Yeah,” Marinette nodded, turning to face her. “But...you’re going to stay, right?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Luka grinned. “I’ll be cheering you on, no fear. And...I’ll be here after. Assuming you still want to talk?” 

“I do,” Marinette said quickly, blushing. 

“Okay then. You go get ready and find Max, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Marinette whispered, and rose on her toes to quickly kiss his cheek before following a production assistant with a clipboard back to the player lounge.

Max nearly knocked her over in his enthusiasm as soon as she walked in, and she clung to the back of his hoodie, laughing incredulously. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered. 

“I believe the evidence is irrefutable,” Max pointed out, and Marinette rolled her eyes, pushing him away. 

“You changed your lipstick,” Max observed as she looked up at him, and Marinette’s fingers flew to her mouth. 

“Oh, I forgot. I can—I can go change it back, if you’re afraid it’ll jinx us—” She knew how Max would react as soon as she said the words and pouted while he snorted with laughter.

“I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think the color of your lipstick will be the deciding factor,” Max snickered, and Marinette shoved him, making him stagger.

“Jerk,” she muttered. 

“I bet Luka liked it,” Max observed smugly, and Marinette’s face flamed red. 

“We’re not going to win this tournament if I break your arm before it starts,” she threatened, punching Max (lightly, as she knew her skinny friend bruised easily) in the arm. 

“I’m sure Luka would comfort y—ow!”

The waiting dragged on again but at least this time she had Max to talk to and strategize with. Once they walked out of the stupid fog tunnel, the whirl began again. It wasn’t any easier, Marinette found, but this time it was Max, confident in his calculations and their abilities, who was her steadying influence. She had more leeway, too, with Max there, they could cover for each other's mistakes. It felt like only moments before they were ushered into the backstage area, waiting to face their final opponents. Marinette felt a bit shaky and weak in the knees again from the rush, but this time she sat herself down and breathed through it while Max paced, muttering strategy and calculations to himself.

Someone cleared their throat beside her and Marinette looked up to find Luka standing there. Now he was wearing his Viperion hoodie, his face made up in a very good approximation of the mask Marinette had put on him when they played together, and he grinned widely at Marinette’s staring eyes. “Surprise.” 

Marinette sputtered for a moment, leaping to her feet as Max reversed his pacing and came over. “What are you—how did you even get back here?”

Luka shrugged, still grinning. “I’m on the team roster so I’m cleared to be here. I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he said, addressing them both though his eyes kept coming back to Marinette. “Not that you need it. I um, I hope this is okay.” He gestured vaguely at himself, and Marinette shut her gaping mouth with a snap. “I didn’t feel right wearing it while we were going head to head, but I just...I wanted to be here and support you guys as much as I could.” He held out his hand to Max, though he sent a worried-looking glance at Marinette, who couldn’t seem to move. 

“Absolutely,” Max said, stepping forward to meet Luka’s fistbump as if he didn’t notice Marinette was suddenly paralyzed next to him. “You’re a part of this team, and it wouldn’t feel right doing this without you.” 

Luka shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t do that much.” 

Marinette’s mouth dropped open again, this time in outrage, but Max beat her to it. “Don’t conflate the magnitude of the effort with its importance,” he told Luka, reaching out to pat his arm awkwardly. Luka’s eyes flicked to Marinette for a moment and she could see his amusement, though he kept a straight face. “Without your assistance we would never have finished the tournament in such an advantageous position for the finals,” Max continued, drawing his hand back to adjust his dark glasses. “We are indeed grateful and your position as a teammate is by no means honorary. I hope when we emerge victorious, you will join us in the awards ceremony.” 

“Oh, I—” Luka looked thrown, but Marinette nodded enthusiastically, catching his arm and squeezing it.

“Max is right. You belong up there with us.” She aimed a reassuring smile at him. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

The tension left Luka’s shoulders and he started to say something, but he was cut off.

“Team Lucky Charm!” the man with the clipboard shouted without actually looking at them. “Prep for entry. Go up the stage steps but do not cross the yellow line until you’re announced.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, and her whole body tensed. Once again she put a hand over her wildly beating heart and tried to breathe. One more time. She just had to face the lights and the screaming one more time.

Luka’s hand covered hers on his arm and Marinette realized she was digging her fingers into his sleeve. “Hey,” he said, gently detaching her fingers from his sleeve. “You’ve got this. Just like before, right? Own it.” He drew her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips lightly. Warmth spread from her fingers down her arm and through her body, pooling in her face and stomach. “Come on, before Max leaves you behind,” Luka said, letting go of her hand and placing his on her lower back, pressing gently until she began to move. He walked with her to the bottom of the stage’s metal stairs behind Max, who was marching forward with determination, confident that the numbers were on their side and determined not to be swayed by something as illogical as stage fright.

Marinette paused at the bottom of the stairs, Luka’s hand still warm on her back, her heart beating wildly in her throat. 

“Remember,” Luka soothed from behind her. “All you have to do is get across the stage and it doesn’t matter how. Once you’re in the pod you’ll forget everything else, just like before. Besides,” he grinned. “They’re just people. You’re the champion.” 

Marinette turned impulsively and hugged him tight. “Thank you,” she muttered, not quite daring to press her face into his chest. Luka’s hands went to her shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you for everything today.

“You’ve got this,” he repeated, sliding his hands down to her arms and shifting her gently back until she stepped up onto the first step, and once her eyes were level with his it became a little easier to breathe in the face of his calm confidence. “Whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen, right? So just get out there and play.” He grinned. “Good luck, Ladybug.” 

Marinette felt an answering smile growing on her face.

“Marinette!” Max called from where he was waiting near the top of the stairs. “Hurry up!”

Marinette looked up at Max as Luka let go of her, but she turned back quickly, grabbed Luka’s face in her hands, and pressed her lips hard to his. He made a startled noise, and when she would have pulled back his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, prolonging the kiss as he swayed after her. Max hissed her name again from the top of the stairs and Luka let her go, breathing hard, something kindling in his blue eyes that made her flush and grin stupidly back at him. 

Then Max was grabbing her arm and hauling her, stumbling, back up the stairs with him. “The sooner you two have that talk, the better,” he muttered as they went up the last few steps together, Marinette trying to contain the stupid grin that kept wanting to break out on her face. "May I remind you we have a competition to win? The sooner it’s over, the sooner you two can go make out in a supply closet.”

“Max!” Marinette whisper-shouted in horror, and Max just grinned. 

“Win first,” he told her, adjusting his horseshoe pendant. “Kisses later.” 

Before she could retort, the announcer roared out, “Team Luckyyyyyy Chaaaarm!” and there was no more time to think about anything besides the bright lights and roaring crowd, and then the blink of the countdown and the hard plastic of the controller against her palms.

***

Luka was waiting when Marinette came flying down the stairs, a laughing Max following in her wake. 

This time she leapt into his arms, making him stagger, and her feet never touched the ground as he laughed and spun her around. He bounced her a couple of times before she let her feet drop to the floor and gave him enough room to share a fistbump and back-slapping hug with Max. 

Then everything was a whirl again, as all three of them were ushered to the press room for interviews and soundbites, and Marinette wasn’t sure whether she managed to get out anything coherent or not. She and Max both kept a hold on Luka, dragging him into the interviews with them, and they presented as a team. Luka’s experience bailed them out a couple of times when unexpected questions gave them pause, and his hand on her back was steadying when she started to stammer. Marinette paused and took a breath and steadied her voice before answering the next question. 

“You guys did great,” Luka murmured when they were finally released, and then there was another flood of bodies on them, and Alya was screaming in her ear and Max’s mother was screaming in his and then Kim wrapped his arms around both Max and Mrs. Kante just as Marinette’s dad did the same to her and Alya, and for a few moments it was a fight to breathe. Marinette saw a flash of Juleka’s purple hair and heard the Captain’s voice boom but everyone was talking at once and Marinette was too overwhelmed to focus on any of it.

Finally, the families were ushered back out to the stands with instructions to be back in their seats in forty-five minutes for the official awards ceremony. As the room began to clear out, leaving the top players milling around with varying expressions of elation and exhaustion. Marinette looked around and found Luka. He was looking right at her, and when their eyes met he tipped his head slightly and indicated the doors. Marinette nodded, heart suddenly in her throat, and Luka flashed her a quick grin before turning away. 

“Max,” Marinette whispered watching Luka slip out of the doors, “What are my odds?”

“The human heart is impossible to calculate, Marinette,” Max said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Although that kiss would argue for a positive response.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly. “No matter what happens, I support you one hundred percent.”

Marinette’s brain was already humming, giving her a list of excuses and reasons why it would be better to put this off, starting with the looming awards ceremony and moving on from there, but Max’s hand on her shoulder and Kagami’s words in her mind got her moving forward. No more hesitation. 

Marinette wormed her way through the bodies between her and the door and slipped out. She nearly collided with Luka, who was clearly waiting for her. He flashed her a grin and caught her hand, tugging her down the hallway. 

“Luka, where are we going?” Marinette hissed as he walked quickly, pulling her along.

“Somewhere we can talk,” he told her, keeping his voice quiet. “Just don’t make too much noise, okay?” 

Marinette frowned. “We better not really end up in a supply closet.” 

“What?” Luka nearly choked trying to muffle his laughter. “No, I promise, I can do better than that. My mom’s played this arena a couple of times, I know my way around.”

“But—” Marinette began, but then closed her mouth as Luka opened the door to a stairwell and started up it. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be up here,” she whispered as Luka checked the floor number and peeked through the window of the door. 

“Nope,” he grinned, opening the door and motioning her through. “Do you trust me?”

She did, so she went through. “We’re not going to the roof this time, are we?” she asked skeptically, and Luka chuckled. 

“Not this time.” She followed him down a dimly lit hallway and did her best not to squeal in incredulous dismay as he jimmied a door lock with a credit card. 

“All the security on the entrances, and crap locks up here,” he said, swinging the door open. “Typical.” 

“I didn’t realize you were a cat burglar in your spare time,” Marinette muttered as he took her hand and drew her inside what turned out to be some kind of private viewing lounge. She could see through the big windows down into the stadium, and the room was scattered with couches and cocktail tables. 

“Nah,” Luka laughed quietly through his nose, slipping his wallet back into his pocket. “I’m a pirate.” 

Marinette looked at him, and he winked at her with that grin, and she couldn’t help breaking into giggles. “You are, aren’t you,” she laughed, covering her mouth. Luka snickered with her, and for a moment they could only stand there trying to stifle their laughter. Luka made no move to turn the lights on, probably to keep anyone from noticing that the room was occupied, but there was enough light from the windows that they didn’t need it, and eventually their laughter died down, and they were left just looking at each other. 

Luka cleared his throat, pulling two bottles of water from the pockets of his hoodie. He held one out to her and she took it gratefully, suddenly aware she was parched. 

“I feel like you’ve been taking care of me all day,” Marinette said, stifling more slightly hysterical giggles, and Luka grinned at her. 

“Sorry. Big brother thing I guess. Or...well, maybe not,” he blushed and looked away. “I just know you’ve been pushing yourself a lot lately, and today was…” He blew out a breath and shook his head with a grin. “A lot. It can really take it out of you if you’re not taking care of yourself, so...sorry if I’ve been pushy.” 

Marinette smiled at him over the rim of her water bottle as he reached to twist the cap off his own. “I didn’t mi—whoa, are you okay?” she reached out to steady him as he suddenly fumbled it, spilling water over his hands.  

“Fine,” he said, a little too quickly, shaking the water off his hand without looking at her. “I’m fine.” He took a drink and then coughed, and Marinette pounded his back, concerned. 

“Geeze, slow down,” she said, torn between amusement and exasperation. “Maybe somebody ought to be taking care of you.”

He coughed through an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry. God, you always catch me off guard.” 

Marinette blushed, though she didn’t understand exactly what he meant. Getting control of himself he added quickly, “Congratulations. You and Max both did amazing. I think I screamed myself hoarse cheering you on.” 

Marinette hunched her shoulders slightly with a pleased smile. “You did really great too. I can’t wait to watch the replays, I heard you destroyed Desperada in the second round.”

Luka winced. “Yeah, that was rough, our skills just…” He shook his head. “She’s an amazing player with what she’s got but she’s basically never beaten me because of the way our stats stack up. She’s done so well, I hated for her to go down like that, but…” He shrugged and grinned. “I did what I had to do. Wasn’t going to miss going up against you in the final.”

Marinette grinned back, and then dropped her gaze, a silence falling between them that threatened to become awkward if one of them didn’t find a way to start. Determined that it would be her, Marinette began in a rush. “Um. Well I wanted to—we haven’t really talked, a-about, and we said we would, and I know maybe it might seem like we don’t need to, and, well this might not actually be the best time but if we wait for the perfect moment it’ll never happen, and I know we, uh, before, and then tonight, and so maybe we don’t need to but I just, I hate it when there are all these misunderstandings because people don’t talk and we should talk and—stop laughing!”

“Sorry,” Luka said, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth as he continued to chuckle. “I can’t help it. I’m happy and you’re really cute.”   

“Damn it,” she hissed, reaching up with both hands to pull on her pigtails in frustration, “I’m so bad at this!”

“You’re doing fine,” Luka said, taking the bottle of water from her and setting both hers and his on one of the tables. He stepped closer and put both hands on her shoulders, and rubbed lightly. “I can go first if you’d rather.” 

Marinette groaned and buried her face in her hands, suddenly mortifyingly close to tears. She was being an idiot. He’d kissed her, and let her kiss him, and acted like he wanted to keep kissing her, and with the texts during the week, and the way he’d been smiling at her all night, and he came to her fashion show, and bringing her up here and the way he was acting now, he really couldn’t be more clear, so why was she still so terrified? 

“Marinette,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate, “Listen, I think you’re—”

“No!” she yelled, throwing out her hands and stepping back from him, breaking his hold on her shoulders. “No, I have to do this, please.” 

God, she was going to ruin everything, he must think she was insane. There was no way that she could explain to him the utter train wreck that had been her years-long crush-obsession with Adrien Agreste, all the things she’d said and completely failed to say, all the time she’d spent analyzing their least little interactions, all the times she’d practically stalked him only to lose her courage and lie at the last minute, until finally, finally, the words passed her lips in a jumbled wreck and were met with— 

She peeked one eye open and could see that Luka was looking at her with concern. His eyes were blue and not green, his hair dark and not blond, and the expression on his face was concern and empathy and not blank confusion.

It wasn’t the same. She could do this. It wouldn’t be the same. It wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same.

“Are you sure?” Luka said hesitantly. “If it’s this hard for you, then—I mean I thought you’d know by now that I—but you don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for, you know that, right?” 

“No, it’s not that, and it’s not you, it’s me, and I need to deal with it. Please, Luka,” Marinette added desperately. She needed to put this ghost to rest and this was the only way she knew how.

“Okay. Okay, Marinette.” He reached up and took her hands, tugging them gently away from her face and then pulling her over to sit on one of the small couches. “I’m listening. Do what you need to do.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, slumping back for a minute. “It’s just, the last time I did something like this it...it didn’t go so well and I know this is different, I do, but it’s...it’s hard. But I want to. I want to do it. I...I kind of need this, Luka.”

“Okay.” Luka slid a little closer, his hands still wrapped around hers. “I hear you. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Right,” Marinette whispered, half to herself. “Okay.” Luka squeezed her hands and she realized they were shaking. She needed to get this over with before she went completely to pieces. Why did he always have that effect on her?

No.

Adrien had that effect on her. 

Luka—Marinette forced herself to raise her eyes to Luka’s, and saw only warmth and encouragement there. She straightened and put her shoulders back and took a breath to steady herself, though the shaking didn’t stop.

“I r-really like you, Luka,” she began, wincing slightly at the stutter and feeling her lips begin to tremble too. “You’ve been a wonderful teammate and a good f-friend, but you’re—” She swallowed hard; this was too close, too close to the words she’d used back then, but it was too late, she had to keep going. “You’re so much more than a friend to me,” she went on in a rush. “At least, I—I want you to be. S-so maybe, if you, um, if you want to, maybe we could go out. Sometime. On a date. A real date, not a just-friends date.” She squeezed her eyes shut and looked down quickly, face burning, suddenly feeling totally inept and like a complete fool and what had she been thinking—

“Yeah.”

Marinette looked up. “What?” Luka was grinning broadly, and he looked oddly...proud. Of her? 

Maybe he really was as perceptive as Juleka said.

Shit he was talking, she should listen. 

“I said yes. Yes, hell yeah, I’d love to go out with you.” 

Marinette blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Luka laughed at the look on her face. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Smart, sassy, gorgeous, tough, incredibly brave, why wouldn’t I go out with you? Do you really think I’m that big an idiot?” 

She gaped at him like a fish.

“Can it be my turn now?” Luka asked, when she didn’t find anything to say, and she nodded dumbly, not entirely sure her soul was still inhabiting her body.

Luka leaned toward her and gently framed her face in his hands. “Marinette, these last few months have been the best I’ve had in a long time and you’ve been a huge part of that, as an opponent and a friend and...honestly the more time I spend with you the more amazing you are to me. I know there’s probably still a lot we don’t know about each other, but I want to. I want you to know me, and I want to know you. All of you. I want to be an expert in Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

Marinette had to giggle at that, slapping her hand over her mouth in horror at the high-pitched girly sound of it. Luka’s grin widened as he shook his head and pulled her hand away from her mouth, threading his fingers through hers and lowering their hands to his lap. “Don’t cover it up, it’s so pretty,” he told her, and his slow grin set off an entirely different panic as he tipped her chin up with his free hand, brushing his thumb lightly across her lips. “I was right about the red,” he said, and when did his face get so close, oh no, but also yes, but wait was this too soon or should she—but she wanted to and if he wanted to then that was good enough, right? ”Can I kiss you now?”

“Okay,” she said shakily, and he leaned in slowly, watching her face. 

“You sure?” he said, pausing and sitting back a bit. “You don’t look like you—”

As she stared at Luka frowning with concern because he thought she didn’t want to kiss him, there was almost an audible snap in her head as the past settled back where it belonged and the now became sharp and clear. What the hell was she doing?

Marinette grabbed the front of Luka’s hoodie and dragged him forward. “Get over here,” she ordered, though the breathiness in her voice took a lot of the force out of it. It was enough, though, Luka closed the distance with a desperate little noise and their lips met once, twice, three times in hard, passionate kisses, before finally settling together into something softer but no less heated. The hand under her chin slid up to flatten along the side of her throat, and then slid farther back to curl around the back of her neck, Luka’s thumb brushing her jaw as he tilted her back. He was kissing her like—like— 

Like he really did like her as much as she liked him, like he meant all those things he said to her, like he’d been thinking about it for a while now— 

And he was really good at it, she acknowledged dizzily as his lips began coaxing hers to open. 

But hell if she was going to let him run the show. She nipped his lower lip and he startled slightly. Grinning in the small space that granted her, Marinette wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled the other free from his hand to grab the back of the couch and pull, forcing him back as she straightened and rolled up to her knees so that he was the one with his head tilted back, and only then did she part her lips and slide her tongue into his mouth, hands moving to hold his face at just the right angle. The strangled noise he made and the way he grabbed at her hips was very satisfying. It felt so good to get some payback after all the time she’d spent agonizing over her crush on him. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of the way his hands were scrabbling against her, trying to pull her into his lap. 

She broke the kiss, laughing when he tried to follow her to prolong it. “Easy, we still have to go back in public after this,” she teased, and Luka groaned, letting his head fall back against the bench.

“Fuck me,” he muttered breathlessly, and Marinette snorted, leaning against him.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?” she scoffed, and Luka’s eyes flew open. 

“No, no, God, no, I didn’t mean, I wouldn’t—” 

Marinette let him stammer for another few moments out of pure revenge for all those times he had grinned at her while she tripped over her tongue, before she leaned in and kissed him, softly this time. “Shut up and put yourself back together, Viperion, we still have an awards ceremony to get through.”

“ Shit. ” Luka let go of her and covered his face with his hands. “I’m gonna need a minute.” 

Marinette put her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help it. She was just so happy. Luka dropped his hands and grinned at her, reaching out to snag her around the waist and pull her close, kissing her even as she continued to laugh, pure joy singing from her soul as she pretended to dodge him. He planted kisses on her jaw and her neck as she squealed and tried half-heartedly to wriggle away before giving up and turning to kiss him again on the mouth, and then again, and then again, slow, deep kisses. 

“What?” she asked as Luka chuckled against her mouth. 

“Nothing,” he sighed, nudging his nose against hers. “Just feeling lucky I guess. I’m so happy, Marinette.” 

Marinette smiled, but they did need to be getting back, so she pushed his hands away for real and slid off the couch.

She bit her lip in amusement when Luka whined, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch and letting his head hang back. “Do we have to?” he groaned. “I really hate ceremonies.”

“Yes,” Marinette grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him up off the couch. “I want to see you up there, right in the number two spot where you belong.” 

“Oh, low,” Luka laughed, dragging his feet as she tugged him towards the door. “Wait, wait.” He pulled his hand free and turned back to grab their water. “Never leave evidence behind,” he said, handing her one of the bottles with a wink. “Especially not evidence with lipstick stains.” 

Marinette giggled. “Wait, is that why you—” 

“No comment,” Luka said, cheeks reddening as he threw the incriminating evidence in the hallway’s recycling bin.

They weren’t very sneaky coming back down the stairs, giggling and snuggling and nearly tripping more than once because they were standing too close together. 

When they emerged into the full light of the hallway outside of the lounge, Luka looked at Marinette and smirked. “Hey Ladybug.” 

“Hmm?” Marinette raised her eyebrows.

Luka leaned in and kissed her until they were both breathless. “Fix your lipstick,” he whispered against her lips, and laughed as Marinette cursed and jerked back, slapping a hand over her mouth. Her red lipstick had held up to the relatively innocent kisses backstage, but now it was smeared all over his mouth, blended with the peach he’d been wearing, and her face couldn’t possibly look any better. Luka burst out laughing at her expression, and Marinette began to giggle again too. 

“Here, I have some wipes,” he managed to say at last, pulling a packet of makeup remover wipes from his back pocket. “Let me help.” 

“You should, since it was your fault,” Marinette shot back, taking the packet from him and pulling a wipe free. She pouted as Luka snatched it back from her fingers, but she didn’t really mean it, and she let him take her chin in his hand and tilt her face up.

“I’m not even sorry,” Luka chuckled, eyes on her lips as he gently wiped away the smears. “I’ll buy you a better brand.” He winked, and then his humor settled into a quiet contentment that shone in his face. “That was pretty amazing, Marinette. I hope we can do it again sometime soon. Maybe I could take you out to dinner and—”

“Marinette!” Max called, bursting out of the doors down the hall and looking around for a moment before spotting them. His shoulders slumped in relief. “There you are! You weren’t answering your phone, I was getting concerned. It’s almost time.”

Luka winced, going to work quickly on his own face. “Busted,” he murmured, and Marinette could hear the laughter in his voice.

Marinette snorted. “Like he didn’t already know. He’s been teasing me about you since we met.” She raised her voice and called, “We’re coming.” She took Luka’s hand and tugged him along with her back to the doors where Max was waiting. 

Max adjusted his glasses and looked at his phone. “We’re due for the ceremony in two minutes and forty-five seconds.” 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Marinette smiled. “I’m good to go, I just need to grab my makeup bag and fix my lipstick.”

Luka made a noise that sounded suspiciously like choked laughter, but Marinette didn’t look at him, squeezing his hand tight enough that he winced. 

“Oh, you left it on the drink table earlier, I picked it up for you,” Max said, pulling her lipstick tube out of his pocket and coming down the hallway to meet him. “It looks good to me, though, are you sure you want to take the time?”

Luka coughed into his hand, obviously trying not to laugh, but Max didn’t even glance at him.

“It’ll only be a second,” Marinette said, taking the tube from him. She opened it and paused as they reached the doors, using her reflection in the window to apply her lipstick over her naturally reddened lips. She could see Luka over her shoulder finger-combing his hair back into place. She capped the tube and handed it to Luka with a wink. “Hold onto it for me? I have a feeling I might need it again later.”

“Sure,” Luka grinned, and reached around her to pull the door open. “Just find me whenever you’re ready to need a touch up.” 

It was Marinette’s turn to choke on a laugh, while Max threw Luka a slightly puzzled glance, but clearly dismissed his odd phrasing in favor of ushering them all back into the ceremony. Marinette grinned. Max might think he’s all worldly, but when he’s focused on something he doesn’t notice anything.

***

They made it through the awards ceremony and almost an hour of the afterparty, accepting congratulations and fistbumps and handshakes and ribbing (mostly good-natured, some not so much, but Marinette had never cared less in her life than she did at that moment). Then someone on the game committee stood up to make a speech and Marinette saw her opportunity. She grabbed the lapel of Luka’s hoodie and tugged lightly. He met her gaze and grinned, following her pull willingly. 

She ducked into a shadowed hall, pulling him just beyond the light from the party, and as soon as she leaned back against the wall he was bending over her, though the kiss he laid on her lips was soft and gentle and over much too quickly. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, with a lopsided grin. “That was kind of presumptuous I guess.” 

Marinette grabbed the lapels of his hoodie and pulled him in for another soft kiss. “Maybe. I don’t mind though.”

“I really like you, Marinette,” Luka said, one hand finding her hip while the other leaned on the wall beside her. “In case I didn’t make that clear before. Not just kissing you, though, for the record, I really like that too, but. You. It’s you.” 

Marinette smiled, a happy flutter in her stomach making her wiggle a bit. “You should probably know I’ve had a massive crush on you for weeks,” she admitted shyly, still holding on to his hoodie. 

Luka’s grin got wider, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah? Weeks?”

Marinette pouted at him. “Don’t lie, you knew.” 

Luka chuckled and looked away. “Maybe. I just...I didn’t know what to do with it for a while. I didn’t want to lead you on if I wasn’t...but then I was, and...” He looked back at her and grinned slowly. “Just weeks, huh?” 

Marinette shrugged, looking somewhere over his left shoulder. “Weeks. Months. Something like that.” She twirled her finger in the string of his hoodie, still not quite looking at him. “So I’m maybe not at all opposed to—presumption.” 

“That’s, um…” He was clearly trying to keep his smile under control, but it wasn’t working. The grin on his face was rapidly crossing into idiotic. Marinette giggled. “That’s really good to hear,” he continued, “because I’ve been getting really stupid over you really fast since we started working together, so...I’m kinda glad you got a head start. It’s actually really flattering coming from a girl like you.”

Marinette frowned slightly. “A girl like me?

Luka gave her an amused look. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Marinette, but you’re kind of a catch.” 

Marinette blinked at him, startled, and Luka buried his face in her shoulder to muffle his laughter. “Oh my God, you really hadn’t noticed. You’re so damn cute.” 

“Cute!” Marinette huffed indignantly, but Luka lifted his face from her shoulder and nudged his nose against hers with a low chuckle that made her shiver.

“Adorable,” he told her, with so much affection that she couldn’t be offended. “Also really, seriously hot, which, I don’t even know how you manage to do both of those at once, but—” He cleared his throat. “Can I—” 

“Yes,” Marinette giggled, tugging on his hoodie, and he bent, closing his eyes and kissing her with a slow heat that made her weak. She slid her hands up his firm chest and over his shoulders until they met behind his neck, savoring the pleased noise he made. Luka broke from her mouth and laid soft kisses along her jaw. 

“When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice so deep it was practically a growl, and Marinette shivered again. Luka cocked his head slightly. “You okay?” 

“I, um,” Marinette bit her lip. “I really like your voice,” she admitted in a rush. 

“Yeah?” That idiotic grin was growing on his face again and she was rapidly falling in love with it, with the way that he looked at her…

With him. She was falling pretty hard for him. And her only consolation was that he seemed to be tumbling head over heels along with her. The idea of loving someone who loved her back was...heady, to say the least. Not even the most euphoric moments of her ill-fated pining compared to this.

“Marinette?” he prompted, nudging his nose against hers. “I’m serious. I really want to see you again soon.” 

She kissed him again, just because he was so close. He chased her when she would have ended it, and she smiled against his lips before letting him coax her into a much longer, deeper kiss. 

“Wednesday?” she said, when he finally drew back. 

“Hm?” he blinked slightly glazed eyes and Marinette giggled. She straightened up off of the wall and leaned into him instead, fingers sliding up to play with the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Wednesday,” she repeated. “You can pick me up at seven. Bring your guitar, you promised to play for me again.” 

“I did,” he agreed, voice dipping low again as his hand slid around to the small of her back. “I can’t wait.” 

“Bring your A-game,” she told him. “I expect to be swept off my feet. But come hungry and plan somewhere light for dinner because my parents will freak when I tell them I have a boyfriend. There will definitely be appetizers. There might be cake. Maybe even a souffle. You tell Papa his rematch will have to wait though because I’m not sharing you this time.”  

The dopey grin returned. “I’m your boyfriend?” 

Marinette blinked, and then blushed hotly, which both made him grin wider and limited her ability to play it off, but she did her best. “You’re on trial. Think you can handle it?”

“Oh, definitely,” he chuckled, and that dopey grin turned into the pirate grin that always made her melt. “The question is, can you?” 

“Oh that’s how it is,” Marinette managed, raising her eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, freeing one hand to slip it behind her neck and tilt her face up. “That's how it is. So you let me know when you’re convinced.” His lips descended on hers and his body pressed hers in the wall and by the time he was done kissing her Marinette was pretty thoroughly convinced.

Not that she planned to admit it anytime soon.

She was pretty sure she was going to like this game.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 57 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Fame nearly gave the designers a heart attack while Violet reached out to a friend and Courtney couldn’t get Bianca out of her head.

This Chapter: A delivery, an investigation, a confession, a meeting, a startling revelation, a secret rendez-vous, and an emotional breakdown.

***

“Miss?” Courtney asked timidly, standing in the doorway. She knew she’d been a bit distracted all week, and could tell that Miss Fame was annoyed with her, but she was trying nonetheless.

“Yes?”

“Ivy sent over the powerpoint for tomorrow. She wants to know if you have any more notes.”

“Leave it.” Fame gestured to her desk, and Courtney hurried forward to put it down, turning to get out of the office and her direct eye line as quickly as possible. “Courtney!”

“Yes Miss?”

“Close the door behind you.”

“Of course, Miss.”

Courtney closed the door, sighing. It had been a long week, Courtney already counting down the seconds until their meeting at Marie Claire tomorrow, nervous butterflies filling her stomach as she wondered what it would be like to see Bianca again.

Would she be all business? Would she flirt with her right in front of everyone? Courtney’s skin prickled, imagining those dark eyes smoldering at her, when the intercom buzzing made her jump, startled.

“Court, got a delivery for you,” Roxy announced through the speaker, and she hurried to reception to see what it was, assuming Roxy meant a delivery for Miss Fame.

At the front desk, Roxy held a small bag out, but when Courtney reached for it, she moved it out of the way, first asking, “Why’s the runner from Marie Claire bringing you stuff from La Perla?”

“I...I dunno,” Courtney said, twirling her hair, already psyched at the prospect of a delivery. It was probably related to the meeting, but even so... “What’s La Perla?”

“Bitch, it’s a lingerie store. A fuckin’ fancy one,” Roxy said, still holding the bag out of reach.

“Oh.” Courtney bit back a smile, abdomen twisting with excitement, lunging forward to grab the bag from Roxy’s hands. “Thanks.”

But Roxy wasn’t giving up without a fight, grabbing her sleeve and pulling her back.

“Ma’am, you aren’t going anywhere until you answer. What’s the deal?”

“Well…” Courtney said, “I’m kind of...dating someone who works there.” Which was at least a little bit true, wasn’t it? Maybe dating was too strong a word, but she didn’t think “fucked” would be appropriate for workplace chitchat.

“And he used the company messenger?” Roxy asked. “He must be pretty high up then, who is it?”

Courtney giggled at her mistaken assumption, shaking her head and saying, “That’s all you get today.”

She wrestled her sleeve out of Roxy’s grip and skipped off back to her own office, where she eagerly opened the bag, first pulling out a handwritten note on BDR stationary, which Bianca must have written as soon as she’d gotten to the office, since her plane landed only a few hours ago. Not that Courtney was tracking her flight.

See you tomorrow. XX, B

Courtney touched the letters, feeling a bit silly but also incredibly elated that Bianca was thinking about her at all, much less sending her presents. She then pulled a tissue-paper wrapped package from the bag, opening it carefully to reveal an embroidered lace turquoise bra and matching panties. She quickly stuffed them both back in the bag before anyone else saw, cheeks warm and skin pleasantly tingly.

Finally, she had an excuse to send another message. She pulled out her personal phone and quickly typed it out before she lost her nerve.

COURTNEY: Thanks for the present. ;)

Courtney felt a rush of adrenaline as soon as she hit send, wondering how long it would take for Bianca to reply. When those three magical dots appeared almost immediately, she nearly gasped with delight.

BIANCA: You gonna wear it for me?

COURTNEY: Maybe…

Her heart pounded as the dots appeared once again, waiting with bated breath for Bianca’s response. She seemed to be typing for an awfully long time. But when the message finally came through, it was short.

BIANCA: Can’t wait.

As she took a deep breath, trying to calm her frantically beating heart, the phone rang, the shrill sound nearly knocking her out of her chair. She put on her headset, trying to compose herself and swallow down her giddiness before answering.

“Miss Fame’s office…”

***

ROXY: Hey girl, got a minute?

SHANNEL: Sure babe, what’s up?

ROXY: One of our assistants here is apparently dating someone high up at MC. Need you to help me solve who it is.

SHANNEL: Oooh, I love a mystery. Clues?

ROXY: Yeah, your runner just dropped off a bag of La Perla for her.

SHANNEL: Lol cheesy. Stand by…

SHANNEL: OMG. Last person to send the runner out was Joslyn. BDR’s assistant.

ROXY: Whaaaaaat????

SHANNEL: Who’s the assistant?! Is she gay???

ROXY: I mean not that I am aware but daaamn!!!

ROXY: PS It’s FAME’S assistant

SHANNEL: OMG

*

ROXY: GUUUURL

IVY: Lol, what’s up?

ROXY: BDR just sent Courtney a delivery

IVY: Yeah, and? It’s probably for the meeting tomorrow

ROXY: Bitch it’s La Perla

IVY: :O :O :O :O

ROXY: Exactly

***

If anyone asked, Jovan would say that he found creating support pieces boring, that there was no creative challenge to rounding out a collection, that his talents were wasted on closing up holes and tying up bows.

In reality, it was something he looked forward to every collection.

Once all the major pieces had been selected, once the stars of the show were submitted, it meant that he could direct his creative attention outside of the company without it affecting the quality of his work.

Jovan pressed save on the drawing he had just finished doodling, a repetitive pattern of beige thread roses on a cream white background for the seasons underwear not a detail anyone would pick out when they looked at the runway, but one he knew would matter to senior management when they were shooting the looks in the spring.

He stretched out, hiding a yawn behind his hand as he grabbed for his coffee cup.

He had spent the majority of last night on his building's roof, his outfit for this year's christmas party an orange suit he was decorating every square inch of in graffiti.

Jovan raised the cup to his mouth, the liquid barely touching his lips before he spit it back out, the coffee ice cold.

“Fuck-“ Jovan groaned. He had completely lost track of time, and as he looked around the room, it seemed like he wasn’t the only one, all of his coworkers caught up in their own projects.

“Hey, Chachki,” Jovan twirled around in his chair, turning so he could look at his desk mate. Violet was sitting with her sketchbook, her gigantic headphones on, her head resting on her hand.

“Yo-“ Jovan stretched his foot out, tapping the edge of Violet’s chair which made her jump, a loud laugh leaving Jovan at her surprise as she took her headphones off.

“What?” Violet sounded annoyed, but Jovan had learned that it was simply who she was once she was in the zone, interrupting her a really bad idea if she wasn’t in the mood.

Jovan figured that was part of why Trixie had paired them up, neither of them ever taking it seriously when the other one snapped.

“Coffee?” Jovan waved his mug, a smile on his lips. Violet considered it for a second, but then she nodded, grabbing her own cup to go with him, Jovan not even noticing that the page Violet had been on was completely blank.

***

“Your team is already here,” Joslyn said, leading Miss Fame and Courtney down the hall to the conference room. “So if you’re all set, I can let Bianca know-”

“Bianca knows better than to keep me waiting,” Fame said, tossing her coat to Courtney, who stumbled a bit.

“Of course,” Joslyn assured her, and was proven right by the fact that Bianca strolled into the conference room a few moments after them, greeting Fame warmly and then turning to Courtney, a sly grin on her face.

Joslyn was no idiot. She had a sneaking suspicion when the whole “find a vegan chef for Thanksgiving” thing had come up that Bianca had her eye on someone new, and it was basically confirmed yesterday when Bianca had asked her to arrange the La Perla delivery.

Today was the first time she’d met Courtney in person, and she had to admit that she certainly was beautiful--Joslyn even briefly wondered if she was wearing the lingerie before telling herself that was inappropriate.

“Hey, Courtney.”

“Hi,” Courtney replied, biting her lip, cheeks reddening. Zero poker face whatsoever, Joslyn noted, turning her head to hide her amusement.

“Courtney,” Miss Fame said, and Courtney’s head whipped around, standing a bit straighter, her arms still full of the heavy white coat. “This conference room is too crowded. We don’t need you here.”

“Oh. Okay, I…” Courtney looked around, slightly embarrassed, clearly unsure where to go, and Miss Fame let out a little huff of annoyance.

“Hey Jos,” Bianca cut in, a hand on Courtney’s lower back guiding her towards Joslyn. “Why don’t you set Courtney up in my office?”

“Your office?” Miss Fame repeated.

“Yes, so she’s close by in case you need anything. And she can hang your coat in my closet, where it’ll be safe.” Bianca punctuated her suggestion with a self-satisfied grin.

“Sure thing!” Joslyn chirped, taking Courtney’s elbow and leading her from the room before Miss Fame’s death glare melted them both. She then unlocked Bianca’s office and opened the large closet for her.

“Thank you,” Courtney said, taking the offered hanger.

“So, um, I guess just make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything? Water, coffee, tea…juice?” Joslyn asked sweetly, pretending that it was totally normal for an assistant from another company to be hanging out by herself in Bianca Del Rio’s office. This girl could very well be a brief fling, and probably was, but it didn’t hurt to get on her good side anyway.

“Thank you, but that’s alright. I don’t want to be any trouble for you.” Courtney bypassed Bianca’s comfy sitting area, instead choosing a hard-backed Lucite chair in front of her desk. She seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible.

“It’s no trouble, honestly.” Joslyn smiled again, and Courtney looked up at her.

“I appreciate that. You’re really sweet.”

“That’s why I make the big bucks,” Joslyn joked, and Courtney chuckled.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, go ahead.” Joslyn perched on the arm of the sofa.

“Is Bianca a good boss?” she asked, shifting in her seat.

“Why, you after my job?” She crossed her arms, feigning offence while giving Courtney an exaggerated look of grave suspicion.

“No,” Courtney laughed, “I just...I don’t know. I know you’ve been here for awhile, and she seems like a good boss. Is she?”

Joslyn wasn’t sure exactly why Courtney was asking, and she was also aware that anything she said could easily be repeated, so she was careful but honest in her response.

“Sure! I mean, she’s tough. And she expects us to work really hard. But she also works really hard, so...plus, you know, her last assistant is now one of our senior ad execs, so that bodes pretty well.”

“Yeah, definitely. Thanks.” Courtney smiled again, this one bright and dazzling, and Joslyn couldn’t help but return it.

***

“Ginger! You’re back!” Katya exclaimed, a big smile on her face as she entered the staff room, holding a slightly misshapen hand-painted mug gifted to her from a student several years back. She set it down on the counter and went to give her friend a hug. The fifth grade teacher had been in Florida for a family reunion, and Katya couldn’t wait to hear the stories of her self-described crazy redneck relatives.

“I’m back,” Ginger affirmed, her smoky voice even hoarser than usual. “Made it out by the skin of my teeth.”

Katya laughed, then winced, pulling back suddenly.

“You alright, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I just like...I must be PMSing because my tits are so sore,” Katya said. She poured coffee into the mug and then sat down heavily. “And I’m exhausted.”

“Oh yeah? How long’s that been going on?” Ginger asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh, I dunno. I’ve felt a little flu-ish on and off all month, just kinda tired and achy and nauseous, but it’s never developed into actually being sick. I probably just had a stomach bug that didn’t want to leave my system?” She shrugged, adding, “These flesh suits we lug around are weird.”

“That they are.” Ginger sat down, putting a hand over Katya’s. “But in this case, there may be an explanation.”

“Oh god, am I dying? Like, faster than normal?”

“Well, I’m no doctor, but…it sounds like you’re pregnant.”

Katya burst out laughing. “Oh my god, can you imagine?”

Her giggles died down when she saw that Ginger wasn’t laughing along. Which was weird, because she’d been the one to make the joke in the first place.

“You’re kidding, right?” Katya asked, a sense of dread growing inside of her as she repeated, “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Ginger paused before shaking her head slowly. “I mean look, I could be wrong, but…”

“Oh my fucking god.”

***

Bianca stifled a yawn, trying to pay attention to Raja and Alyssa’s presentation on their upcoming collaboration. She had no doubt that the spread would turn out well in the end--the partnerships with Galactica always did, the fashion house absolutely known for bringing high quality editorial pieces.

However, at the moment, she was seeing a lot of taupe, and with the level of jet lag she was still suffering from, it really wasn’t enough to keep her eyes engaged. Luckily, they appeared close to the end.

“If we’re committed to this color story,” she cut in, “then I’d like to think about incorporating a few more graphic prints as well, and some exaggerated shapes.”

“You’re so impatient; that was our next slide,” Raja replied, motioning for Ivy to click forward, showing sketches of some of the looks with bold large-scale prints beside the originals.

“Wonderful.”

“Yes, the idea is for the makeup to be the real color stars,” Alyssa said, “but of course we want plenty of eye-catching shapes.”

“Yeah, it all looks good, very promising. What do you say we order some lunch, take a short break, and then go over the potential advertising partnerships my team put together?” Bianca suggested, and was met with nods (and a few relieved sighs) from around the table. She dialed her office extension on the intercom. “Joslyn, can you bring in the lunch menus?”

She began to get up from the table when she noticed Fame giving her some side eye from across the table.

“What?”

“Where are you going?” she asked suspiciously.

“Bathroom. Is that okay with you?”

“Mm…” Fame sat back, eyes still narrowed, and Bianca laughed, shaking her head.

“If you really want, I can bring you back a sample.”

“You’re disgusting,” Raja called out, and Bianca shrugged, letting out a cackle before ducking out of the room.

She hurried the short distance down the hall, passing Joslyn on the way, swiftly entering her office, a rush of endorphins filling her with glee the second she caught a glimpse of Courtney inside. She hadn’t expected for her to get under her skin so fast, but the entire week in Tokyo, she’d found herself thinking about her, fantasizing about her, anxiously waiting for the next time they’d meet. And now here she was, finally.

Courtney stood, turning around slowly. At first, she looked shy, maybe a bit unsure, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Hi. How was your week?”

“Brutal. I thought about you every second…” Bianca said quietly, her gaze unwavering.

Hearing that seemed to embolden Courtney, her eyes brightening before her face melted into a suggestive grin.

“Shut the door.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bianca grinned back at her, closing the door firmly behind her. She looked as fresh and pretty as always, in a belted, long-sleeved shirtdress and ballet pink heels. But all Bianca was interested in was what was underneath. “Are you wearing it?”

“Come see,” Courtney said, head tilted coyly, and Bianca strode forward, immediately taking hold of her belt, pulling it loose. As she began undoing the buttons as fast as possible, Courtney added, “I don’t usually wear bras, but I figured I could make an exception today.”

“Special occasion?” Bianca asked, heart hammering in her chest as she opened the dress to reveal the bra and panties she’d sent over yesterday, the teal standing out on her creamy skin, even better than Bianca had imagined.

“Uh huh…”

“Fuck.” She stepped closer, wanting nothing more than to wrap her into her arms, but Courtney evaded her touch.

“Now show me yours.”

Bianca’s head lifted, temporarily stumped. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

A smirk pulled on Bianca’s lips as she asked, “Do I look like some kind of sex object to you?”

“Yes.” Courtney twirled a lock of hair around her finger, perched on the edge of the desk.

Bianca had to hand it to Courtney--she was proving to be a lot feistier than planned, and it was a very welcome surprise. She slipped off her jacket, placing it on the guest chair, and then turned around. “Maybe you better help me with the zipper.”

Courtney took her time, dragging the zipper down, fingers trailing along the exposed skin until Bianca shrugged out of the dress, letting it pool in a heap at her feet. She turned back around, standing in what was at least pretty respectable silk underwear, if slightly unmatching as usual, and a black garter belt hooked to her thigh high stockings.

“Well?”

Courtney’s green eyes raked over her body, taking in every inch of her, making her feel exposed in a thrillingly unfamiliar way. When her eyes finally lifted to Bianca’s face again, she was breathing hard. She reached out and pulled Bianca in by the waist.

“Kiss me.”

“I’ll get lipstick all over you,” Bianca warned, fingering one of her bra straps.

“I don’t care. Kiss me.”

Bianca smiled, tilting her chin up and moving in for a kiss.

It was electric, hungry--even better than the last time. Courtney’s hands clawed at her ass, pulling her closer, and soon she had her sprawled on the desk, falling apart in the most glorious way. Bianca pulled down one of her bra cups, tongue wrapping around her dainty pink nipple, making her gasp and whimper, thighs tightening around Bianca’s hips.

Bianca moved a hand between her legs, feeling through the thin lace how wet she was already, one finger teasing her clit, rubbing her in gentle circles as she watched her eyes roll back.

“Oh god…”

“Look at me…” Bianca cradled the back of her neck, wanting nothing more than to watch her beautiful face as she came, when she heard buzzing, a phone vibrating beside them. She paused, fingers going still, eliciting another choked whimper. “Is that you?”

“What?” Courtney blinked up at her, pupils fully dilated, hips still rolling fruitlessly against her hand.

“The phone.”

“Shit!” Courtney gulped for air, struggling to sit up as Bianca handed her the still ringing phone, doing her very best to answer in a normal voice, the anguish in her eyes nearly making Bianca laugh. “Yes Miss?”

Bianca tried to suppress her dimples, patiently waiting as Courtney listened to rapid-fire instructions from Fame, but unable to resist teasing her a little bit more, fingers just barely touching the front of her panties.

“Uh huh...yes, I…” Courtney drew in a sharp breath, and Bianca’s dimples deepened, now unable to wipe the grin off her face. “Yes...right away, Miss.” She finally hung up, pressing her forehead against Bianca’s shoulder, chest heaving.

“Everything okay?” Bianca asked, moving closer, hovering over her.

“Yeah. I have to…um…” Courtney swallowed hard, tucking her face into Bianca’s neck, teeth grazing her skin.

“Can you spare a few more minutes?” Bianca murmured, and Courtney nodded.

“Yes. Please…”

“Please what? Tell me what you want.”

It had become clear to Bianca, during their last encounter, that Courtney was not accustomed to dirty talk. She had no trouble giving orders in some circumstances, but words like fuck and pussy seemed beyond her. So of course, being the sadistic bitch that Bianca was, getting her to say them became an urgent desire.

“I want...I want your fingers…” Courtney grasped at her wrist, doing her damndest to shove Bianca’s hand down the front of her panties.

“Yes? Where? Tell me.”

“In my cunt,” she said finally, voice breaking, and Bianca would have laughed if it wasn’t so fucking hot.

“You got it, angel…” Bianca slid two fingers into her wet pussy, curling them forward, pausing a beat when she gasped. She could feel nails dig deeper into her ass and asked, “You okay?”

“Fuck me, please…”

How quickly they learn.

Of course, Bianca obliged, working her quickly, thumb dragging figure eights over her clit the last thing she needed to send her over the edge with a high-pitched, drawn out moan.

“Shhh, shhh…” Bianca whispered, attempting to remind her where they were, who was potentially still in earshot. And then her whole body went soft, practically molding itself to Bianca’s, and all Bianca wanted to do was wrap her into an embrace. A pang of regret that she had to quickly return to the meeting went through her, and she tipped Courtney’s chin up to kiss her softly. “Hey so...you got any plans later tonight?”

Courtney shook her head, still in a daze.

“So there’s a restaurant near my place that I’ve been dying to try. Why don’t you come over after work and I can take you out on a real date...wine and dine you like you deserve.” The way her face lit up at the suggestion told Bianca that it was absolutely the right call.

“Okay…”

Bianca helped her down off the desk and guided her into the bathroom, where she handed over a makeup wipe and then went to work fixing herself.

“I gotta get back, your boss is already suspicious of my whereabouts,” Bianca said, pulling open a drawer to find a lipstick that matched what she was wearing before. “But use whatever you need in here.”

“Thanks, I-shit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, um...when she called, she was giving me a lunch order and I can’t remember if she wanted broccoli or kale…”

“Go with the broccoli,” Bianca advised, walking back to the office to find her clothes. “But why’s she not ordering from Pierre’s? We literally chose it because it’s her favorite.”

“She said there was nothing she wanted on the menu,” Courtney said, stepping forward to help with her zipper.

“What a diva,” Bianca chuckled, and turned around to face Courtney, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

Courtney nodded slightly, and Bianca couldn’t help notice that her dress was still unbuttoned. She took one last gratuitous look, and Courtney giggled, pushing her towards the door.

***

When Trixie opened the door to the supply room, he heard a strange noise.

He had only meant to come in to get a new box of pens, his favorite one all dried up, but now, he paused, waiting for a beat, but when he heard the noise again, he knew instantly what it was.

Someone was crying.

“Hello?” Trixie stepped inside, flicking on the lights, taking a few steps. “Anyone in here?”

Trixie had expected to find Blu, or maybe even Kiara or Kandy, but instead, he came face to face with Violet, who was standing in the corner, hiding in between reams of printer paper and extra staplers, her crutches resting against the shelves.

“... Violet?”

Trixie could see that Violet had been crying, black smudges under her eyes telling their clear story, but she looked so different from when she had been lying on the floor with a broken foot, the expression on her face completely devastated.

“Please go away.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” Trixie didn’t like to force himself on anyone, didn’t like to force anyone to open up, but he couldn’t accept that anyone from his staff was crying, couldn’t look away when someone he was responsible for was so obviously in distress. “Is it your ankle?”

“No,” Violet looked up, turning her eyes towards the ceiling as she quickly dabbed under her eyes, her lip between her teeth. “It’s stupid.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t tell me.” Trixie leaned against a shelf, making sure he didn’t knock over the boxes of pencils. “Please.”

“I just, it’s-” Violet took a deep breath through her nose. “I’ve been trying so hard to keep up, and I can’t. I just- I can’t. I work on my dress, and I can’t let anyone else touch it because it isn’t finished-”

Trixie nodded, listening to Violet’s words. He understood her point of view, a couture gown a completely different beast from designing ready to wear. No one expected Violet to do the entire thing herself, not even Violet, but Trixie could see that she had an extremely clear vision in her head for how she wanted it down to the beading, which meant she couldn’t ask for anyone’s help yet and least of all tailoring.

“And when I’m on schedule for the dress, and I try to focus on the sketches, I don’t, I can’t, I just scrapped half my sketchbook because it isn’t good enough, and I can’t push through because I’m so tired and-”

“Hey, hey hey hey.” Trixie reached out, gently touching Violet’s arm. “Violet. Violet. Listen.” Trixie squeezed it, forcing her to focus on him. “It’s okay that you don’t have any support pieces-”

“Maxwell has done over 30 submissions.” Violet looked like she was about to cry again, and Trixie could see how much she hated it painted all over face.

“Maxwell is a senior designer.”

“But-”

“No. No buts.” Trixie cut her off “Do you want to hear a real problem? I’m trying to replace Aiden, and so far, Fame has rejected every single candidate.”

“She does like to do that,” Violet gave the tiniest smile, and Trixie couldn’t help but grin.

“Exactly, but do you know why I think she’s so tough this time around? Because the last hire we made, is a goddamn rockstar, who happens to be closing on her first ever show.”

Violet snorted, like she didn’t actually believe him, but she looked so much better, the woman he had come to genuinely care for slowly coming back.

“Go home Violet.” Trixie squeezed her arm one last time before letting go. “Go home, and I’ll see you Monday. Okay?”

Violet nodded, not even opening her mouth to argue, and Trixie couldn’t help but feel like he had finally, finally, finally broken through to his newest designer.

***

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 86: The Madness of Mr. Crouch

Alice landed on what distinctly smelled like dirty clothes. She got confirmation of this fact by sitting up and a pair of used, and soiled trousers, slipping off her head.

"You alright Smith?" A slurred voice behind her understandably asked as she squealed in disgust and made a beeline for the ajar bathroom door. She barely paused to acknowledge it was Potter, shaking his head from a sizable lump, no telling what he'd smashed into upon their recent landing, as she slammed the door behind her and turned the shower on.

James blinked at the sight before he really took stock of it all and nodded to himself. They could all use a bit of that. He came across several more spare bedrooms in this place before finally finding another one that was deemed important enough to have an adjacent bathroom. He didn't waste much time himself before taking a proper shower and watching the ilk slowly go into the drain as he began to wonder where they'd landed this time.

Frank was still rubbing water, thankfully clean water now, from the nap of his neck as he took his own gander around this place and found himself in an immense library that answered that very question. It was practically the size of his home, but like nearly every room he'd come across it had a disturbed air about it. The books were all pulled off the shelves and scattered on the floor, some even ripped apart. In between every book case was yet another portrait of yet another Crouch.

He wasn't going to try the headache of asking any of them anything again of what could have been going on around here, and so ignored their tisking of the mess. The book he was looking for could have been in here, but he was much keener on finding Alice and Lily in this strange place, so he left the shambles and went off once more.

Lily rubbed her head as she took uncomfortably to her feet, using a hedge to keep her upright as she took in her surroundings of the great sweeping lawns. The hedges were becoming quickly overgrown, her mother would go spare for the sight. Whatever shape this one once had been certainly didn't resemble it anymore. The manor she found herself gazing at seemed in much better state. She wondered what kind of man would live in such a place and not take proper care of his property. She trudged through the grass, and stumbled to her knees in surprise. Yelping the Lumos spell at once for fear of anything at this point, she instead lit her wand tip upon a shoe.

Curiouser, and curiouser.

Making her way almost ghost-like through the shadows and the tall grass until she finally reached the gravel path, she found herself at the front door open for invitation. Hesitating and never particularly liking being alone recently, considering all the deadlier places they'd landed, she debated entering until she heard Pettigrew and Lupin's exasperated voices from just inside the door. At least they weren't screams of terror.

Ignoring the silver knocker in the shape of an eagle's head, she pushed it open wide and was in a grand parlor. It too was a mess.

A table was knocked over, a bottle of brandy long gone to waste. A high-back chair was nearly pushed into the fireplace's unlit grate, and beyond that was a set of stairs where Sirius Black was sitting, still bare-chested and looking almost bored with the proceedings of his two friends having a good laugh with each other.

An eagle owl was snapping its beak reproachfully at the pair, something tied to its leg, but neither of them were paying it any mind as they kept enchanting a pocket watch to hover in the air and letting it fall, the goal for the other to manage to get it to hover again before it hit the ground.

"I've found the book," Frank announced, hand in hand with Alice as he descended the stairs, the pair stepping around Sirius Black who didn't even look up at them, maybe lost in thought for the first time in his life. They spotted Lily still standing in the doorway, eying the betrayal of them looking decidedly cleaner than the mud she still sported and the new twigs likely caught in her hair.

"I'll wait until you've freshened up though," he concluded kindly.

"Much appreciated," she smiled in return, making her way upstairs to do just that.

Regulus was still running a towel through his hair and wondering how on Earth Sirius kept it so long, his was much shorter and it took forever to dry out, when Longbottom started the book. He startled a bit in the bathroom but thanked the fortuitous timing regardless, five minutes earlier and that would have been even weirder.

The Madness of Mr. Crouch? Was this possibly going to explain all of his odd behavior then? It would be nice to have a straight answer like a man going barmy for once, it would explain why he'd thrown his kid into Azkaban for doing something his mother had always insisted any sane pureblood would give their arm to do. Yet another odd juxtaposition of the world he'd never been privy to until all this, it seemed.

Alice sat cross-legged at Frank's feet, playing absently with his shoelaces as he read above her, wondering just as much as everyone else just how loony Crouch had always been. Apparently he couldn't keep his place together worth a damn without his elf, poor little Winky's deteriorating desinsion into freedom being once again highlighted as Harry gave the kitchens another visit.

The Marauders were still enjoying their little game, all four of them now with the extra challenge of avoiding spells from each other while keeping the pocket watch aloft. Lily was a step below her as she watched their game and tried to pretend otherwise, but it was either that or the wood paneling, so she wasn't hiding it well. Alice had never been in the Gryffindor dormitory on a normal day to guess as much, but she wondered if she always pretended to ignore them while they were up to their hijinxs and nobody had just ever seen otherwise. She never talked about her roommates really, and it's not like Snape would be up there to notice.

Nobody had seen the little Black yet, though it was a large manor, she still felt bad it didn't seem anyone was trying either. The times she and Frank had tried to chat with him he hadn't really been very forthcoming. Still, this place had an odd feeling about it, and someone should check on the lad. He'd been so quiet the past few places, she couldn't really recall him saying a word.

The moment she began getting up, Lily leapt to her feet right beside her ready to go. Maybe Alice had misjudged and she'd been fighting off the temptation to curse them instead of join them, it was surprisingly hard to tell with her.

"I'm going to have a poke around," she explained to Frank, who'd clearly been distracted by the story as he only looked up as she gave him a peck on the cheek and explanation.

"Oh," he stuttered in surprise, looking back down at the others and swallowing uncomfortably, already half closing the book, before he hesitated and glanced out the still open door instead. It was a half moon, Lupin was being the most lively of the bunch. Evidence of which, most texts had said, made him just as dangerous as a full moon for his energy could lead to a dangerous quarrel.

'One that led to hitting your mates with a curse to have them hanging in the air by their ankle apparently,' she snorted softly to herself as Black was effectively put out of the game for the moment while his mates laughed themselves silly.

Frank swallowed visibly, but then very obviously settled himself more comfortably on the carpeted step. "Alright love, I'm too curious to stop, you two have fun though."

She smiled brighter than the moon, giving him a more affectionate peck on the lips this time and running her hand through his hair as the two departed up the stairs.

"Anywhere in particular you want to have a look?" Lily asked pleasantly as they began traveling down the first hallway. "I found a ballroom a bit back, though I can't imagine the man was renowned for hosting parties."

"Think my Mum went to one actually, years ago," Alice agreed with a giggle. "She said his wife had been the life of the party and he spent the whole time boasting to his coworkers. Quite the surprising dancer though." She listened to Harry visiting the owlery by himself and watching from afar as Hagrid and Maxime had another interaction, a pleasant reprieve from anything death-defying recently, still leaving their current whereabouts and the chapter title all the stranger. She corrected the assumption though, "no, I actually had a goal in mind, I was thinking of looking for little Regulus Black. Haven't heard from him in awhile, and though nothing's attacked us in this place yet, I still thought I'd check on him."

"Oh," some of the enthusiasm dropped from Lily's face, and Alice couldn't blame her being weary of the lad. He'd been least friendly to her. She surprisingly picked herself right back up though and quickly hid that with a believable smile just as fast, "that's a really kind thought Alice, you're full of those. I really see where Neville gets it."

She blushed in surprise and had no comment for that.

They finally found him in the last room of the last wing, Alice couldn't help but think he'd sought the place out on purpose and the idea was reinforced when they saw the puckered look on his face as he inspected the room. The look didn't temper out much when he saw he had company, but his voice was cordial enough as he said hello.

Alice had seen as well as anyone how he'd been actively seeking out, even talking to Peter Pettigrew as of late. So maybe the kid was a little standoffish until he found some common ground, and she knew of at least one of those. "So, you think Crouch Jr. played Quidditch?"

This was the exact wrong thing to say apparently, Lily instantly deduced, as his uneasy frown turned into a full blown scowl.

"How the bloody hell should I know that, there's not a trace of the bloke in this whole house. Apparently he died the second he was shipped away to Azka-" he broke off and purposely turned his back on them.

"Oh, right," Alice finally said lamely to the dead silence that followed that. It wasn't hard to think for any extended time why the idea of Azkaban would bother him in particular for several reasons, his inevitable future being one, his brother winding up there being another obvious.

Lily's instinct kicked in though only moments later. "She was just trying to be nice, a lot more than you ever bother."

Both of them were briefly distracted by the book, Hermione being sent hate mail of all things and the poor girl having to go off to the hospital wing for it. They exchanged commiserating looks at the mess all around, finally turning to leave him to it as neither wanted to hear once more how much the mudblood probably deserved it, and missing the fact he watched them leave.

The two of them spent the rest of the chapter traversing the barren halls having a good chat about magical creatures they'd still like to see, those nifflers from Hagrid's lesson sounded adorable.

Remus finally let all three of his friends down and only preened in his victory for a few moments before he let himself get really distracted by the story, and Hermione swearing vengeance upon Skeeter. "I really hope she does it too," he nodded along, "that woman's caused enough trouble, and we can maybe even stop any of that before it starts."

"I'm game," Sirius hopped to his feet at once, then swayed dangerously, he had been upside-down the longest. Remus grabbed his arms to stop him face planting, not bothering to hide his resumed snickering at how flush his chest visibly was.

"What if someone even worse took her place though?" Peter asked as he shook out his legs, very much regretting letting himself get hit when he did, he'd thought Prongs couldn't have lasted that much longer! "Like, like someone who blackmails people to get stories instead of just making up-"

"One problem at a time," James rolled his eyes, very much repressing the spine tingling-feeling whisper that told him Peter didn't want to change the future- but obviously he did!

There was some interest piqued all around regardless at the last task being described by Bagman out on the Quidditch Pitch! Disgusted mutters, of course, for what they'd done to the place, but so long as it was put back right this maze sounded like an...interesting place, and the last one thankfully.

None of them were looking forward to being in there themselves, as was inevitable at this point, so they were as happy as anyone at the randomness of Krum pulling Harry aside, to talk about Hermione.

Peter giggled shrilly at the renowned Quidditch player thinking James's kid was any kind of romantic threat, even if Harry didn't like Hermione. He watched now as Prongs puffed up his chest in pride for the same and ruffled his hair, shouting loud enough for neighboring mansions to hear about his kid getting any lass he liked and able to beat that International player to boot.

There was something, off about it though. He couldn't even explain to himself for a moment why he forced himself to keep laughing longer than usual, why he was dithering uncomfortably in place when he had no good reason to as nothing was really wrong. Well... something had been wrong, for ages though. He'd felt it since the start, when Remus and Sirius had made up from their fight. Then that shite with his future had happened, and now everyone was ignoring there was some shift happening in their group. Their first game in too long and some old jokes didn't feel like it was really fixing anything- and what was Crouch doing there?!

Frank Longbottom was no longer leaning back casually on his elbows and pretending he wasn't watching them out of the corner of his eye, he now sat ramrod straight on the stairs and had no inkling of his audience, they were all so riveted by the sheer oddity of what they were hearing, glad for once they weren't at the scene of this crime. Standing in the shadows of the Forest, even one the Marauders knew so well, would have been terrifying, but somehow being in said man's house instead put an extra layer upon what they were hearing.

Madness was no joke then, the man had truly cracked, and Harry and Krum were there to witness the ravings.

Frank would swear the house itself stopped breathing, all eight of them taking in every word of Harry trying to sooth this Ministry official, then leaving Krum to take over as he went for Dumbledore. He was even selfishly glad Lily wasn't around this time, as Snape once again stepped in the way with his arse-like tendencies, he didn't need any distractions of how she would have explained that.

It was still all the stranger when boy and Headmaster returned, to find Krum stunned. Hogwarts truly turned into a madhouse for the following moments, and it wasn't until Hagrid was leading Harry away from it all that they each began really letting it all sink in.

Crouch was gone, his madness likely the cause of all this, but all of it? Frank did not think an onset of spotty mentality would cause him to put Harry Potter into the tournament, but things were progressing fast now into the final legs of his year, and still they were as scarce on information to the culprit of that as ever. Frank was a bit ashamed of himself he hadn't been paying nearly as much attention to details as he would have liked, and even found it some relief to look over and see the Marauders as aghast at all this as him. They were always known as clever students, to be able to do the stunts they pull, now three fourths of them being Animagi at their age was no easy feet. He was missing something, they all were.

[dweetwise]

ok lowkey. that spirit thing was mweh😘 how strange yet oddly interesting. if you dont mind doing something similar... could you ... maybe write something where Zarina befriends the Nurse? like the nurse is getting bullied by all the other survivors and Zarina is just like 'bruh why?'. this happened once in a match and i cant get it outta my head😤🤡 love LOVE your work. keep it up

[thanks anon ily 😳😳😳 hope this is ok! there’s a special place in my heart for baby nurses, they are so pure <3]

zarina never had to deal with op old nurse bless her

Zarina befriends the Nurse: ficlet

Hearing yet another wail from the Nurse echoing across the map, Zarina looks up from her generator into the misty grounds of the asylum. The match had surely been going on for nearly ten minutes already, and the teleporting killer had yet to down any of the survivors.

Finishing up the repairs on her generator, Zarina starts navigating towards the sound of the screeches. On her way, she doesn’t spot a single one of her teammates on any of the generators, and frowns in irritation that the killer had apparently decided to farm with the others without anyone deeming it necessary to inform her.

“Forgot about the new chick again, huh?” she mutters to herself, already having had some trouble fitting in with the rowdy group of survivors and their already established dynamic.

Zarina finally reaches what seems to be the center for the commotion, arriving at the shack where Feng, Nea and David are running around in circles with the killer teleporting through the structure, landing a hit on David who the girls then immediately begin patching up right in front of the killer’s face. Zarina huffs out an annoyed breath that her assumptions were correct, turning away from the spectacle and fully intending to go elsewhere and refuse to participate in the others’ dumb little game, when...

“Oi, over ‘ere ya cunt!” David taunts, causing Zarina to clench her fists and whip around, ready to give the asshole Brit a piece of her mind for insulting her--

Only to see the still injured David pointing his flashlight in the Nurse’s face, prolonging the killer’s already painful looking fatigue state. Zarina swallows her misdirected anger and takes a more thorough look at the events unfolding at the shack.

She sees Feng Min get right up in the killer’s face, doing her stupid butt dance,  while Nea chain blinds the killer with her own flashlight, rendering her useless for a few more seconds. The killer takes a wild swing in Nea’s direction, but the street artist sidesteps.

“Ooh, big swing!” Nea mocks, clicky-clicking her flashlight and moonwalking around the Nurse while the killer recovers from her miss. 

“Baby killer, baby killer!” Feng’s high-pitched laugh echoes through the area as the gamer feigns vaulting the shack window, causing the Nurse’s bonesaw to uselessly hit the wood with a dull ‘thunk’.

“Couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with that aim--” David taunts from the shack entrance, making the Nurse quickly blink to him. David dashes through the pallet, avoiding the hit and proceeds to throw down the piece of wood on the killer, flashlight at the ready and already pointing at the Nurse. “Baited ya, bitch!”

“She’s so boosted!” Nea laughs, moving into position to reset the pallet in the blinded killer’s face while Feng injects a healing syringe into David’s shoulder. When the Nurse finally recovers from the combination of the fatigue, stun and blinds, only to have the now upright pallet be slammed right back in her face, Zarina decides enough is enough.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Zarina demands, approaching the scene. “Hey Zarina! Look at this baby killer!” Feng says, obnoxiously spam-pointing at the stunned Nurse. “Shouldn’t you be doing gens?” “Don’t get yer knickers in a twist, we’re just horsin’ around,” David grunts, rolling his shoulder from the sting of the syringe needle. “But why, though?” Zarina asks, shooting a glare in Nea’s direction where the Swede is once again blinding the killer with her flashlight. “Haven’t you done enough?”  “No offense newbie, but maybe you should go find a gen and leave this to us, yeah?” Nea says, a cocky smirk on her lips.

That moment, the Nurse manages to get control over her movements and executes a precise teleport to an injured David, only to have the syringe take effect a split second before the hit and fully heal his wounds, merely causing him to get injured again. Zarina thinks she hears the Nurse groaning in defeat, and she doesn’t blame her. With Nea sprinting right back up to the killer, flashlight in hand, and Feng running after David ready to tank a hit, the Nurse readies another blink and, to everyone’s surprise, teleports away in the direction of the main building.

“LMAO she gave up!” Feng laughs, the sound grating on Zarina’s nerves, as she begins patching up David. “Let’s go after her!” Nea suggests. “NO!” Zarina yells, absolutely done with her fellow survivors’ bullshit against the clearly struggling killer. “You’ve already won! Don’t you have any empathy?” she scolds the trio. “Oh I’m sorry princess, is the taaxic flashlight against your wittle journalist’s ethics?” Nea mocks, fake pouting. “We’ve put of with ‘er shite for years, least she can do is take a couple pallets in tha face,” David grumbles. “Yeah you try versing a five blink Nurse with a mori and tell us how fair and balanced that is,” Feng says, hands on her hips. “Whatever, that’s your problem,” Zarina says, not about to entertain the trio about whatever grudges they seem to be holding. “Just do the fucking gens and leave.”

With that, Zarina makes her way to the main building, thankful that the others seem to stay behind, at least for now. She feels compelled to apologize to the killer on her so-called friends’ behalf, once again trusting her strong moral compass to guide her to the right decisions. Before long she finds the Nurse in one of the rooms on the second floor of the asylum, sitting on a windowsill with an old photo frame in her hands.

“Umm... miss killer? Excuse me?” Zarina makes her presence known, peering in through the door frame. “You didn’t have to intervene, girl,” the Nurse says with unexpected softness and clarity in her voice. She looks almost serene, ominous heartbeat gone, sitting primly in front of the window and torn dress flowing gently with a breeze from the derelict wall.

“I know, it’s... I couldn’t just watch. I’m sorry about them, they’re--” “It’s fine. Truly. I understand,” she says, looking down at the photo again. “I haven’t exactly shown them mercy in the past, I would not expect them to act different.” “Are you... okay?” Zarina asks, cautiously approaching. The Nurse sighs. “This place, it... brings back memories I’d rather forget. I feel my focus slipping and my head is just not in it today.” “The others said you used to be more powerful--or p-perhaps just more ruthless, before...?” “I suppose that’s true,” the Nurse chuckles. “There was a time where I lost myself completely, the entity filling my mind with hatred. Now... I’m weaker, more often a disappointment to it, but... perhaps it’s for the best.” “Umm... not to point out the obvious, but--don’t you think it might help to take the bag off of your head so you could see better?” “You’d offer advice to me, an enemy? A rather peculiar survivor, you are,” the Nurse says, fondness in her voice. “As for the matter, I am able to see just fine, courtesy of the entity. Hiding my face is a choice, one of the few I still have. I--” her voice cracks. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a touchy subject.” “What a curious one you are. Never give up that fire,” she says. “As for covering my head... he always loved seeing me smile,” she says, fondly stroking a finger over the picture, before handing the frame to Zarina, taking her completely off guard as she fumbles to grab the item.

In the frame is a picture of a happy couple on their wedding day, both smiling brightly and embracing each other. The man looks like a proper old-time gentleman, complete with a top hat and silly mustache. The woman is gorgeous, her pale skin and white gown a stark contrast to her fiery red hair and deep emerald green eyes.

“Is this you?” Zarina asks, slightly taken aback, reminded of the fact that the killers probably used to be normal people, just like her. “It was the happiest day of my life,” the Nurse says wistfully. “That was his favorite photo. He said it brought out my eyes, he--he loved my eyes, said they were a reflection of my soul, of our happiness. Which is why I can’t let anyone see my face.” “Because now you’re... unhappy?” Zarina asks, trying to understand. “Because I don’t want anyone to look into my eyes and see the madness that consumed me,” the Nurse whispers.

Zarina is at a loss for words, intrigued about the remorseful killer’s past but not wanting to pry further. She stares at the photo and tries to imagine how the cute, carefree woman in the picture could have ever turned into a bloodthirsty killer.

The sound of the exit gates being powered snaps her out of her thoughts, finally handing the frame back to its owner.

“Thanks for telling me all this,” Zarina says. “Can’t have been easy, what you’ve went through.” “I should be thanking you, for indulging a silly woman her tales,” the Nurse says. “Feel free to stop by, should you happen to wander into this realm from the campfire. I don’t often linger here, but... maybe it would not be so bad, had I company.” “You know, I might just take you up on that offer,” Zarina says, offering a small smile. The sound of a gate opening and the end game triggering reminds her that she’s on a time limit. “Shi--shoot, I’ve gotta run. See you around, uh... ms. Nurse?” “Please, call me Sally,” the killer says, primly bowing her head. “Zarina, was it? Do be careful out there. Your kindness might just be the end of you.” “Doesn’t sound so bad, as far as causes of death go,” Zarina quips, offering a cheeky grin before sprinting off the find the gate.

[sally is precious fight me. and lmao i didn’t even try to be subtle about who toxic nea is inspired by]

[mchalowitz]

the process by which time passes

REPOST. you guys. @lilydalexf is the true mvp of this saga. she happened to have the story still open and was kind enough to send it to me. i owe her so much gratitude (as well as the other amazing xf bloggers that reached out to me). although i don’t interact much socially around here, it is amazing to be a part of a fandom that is so kind and supportive! writing xf fic is a creative outlet i enjoy so much and i love sharing it. now back to our regularly scheduled reading. (also if you guys wouldn’t mind boosting this new version so i can see the feedback, i would be so grateful.)

this is something i’ve been writing (at this point) for probably almost a year, which is one reason i’ve been pretty quiet on the fic-posting front. i’m so excited for everyone to finally see it but terrified at the idea that it’s not just an idea that only i know about anymore. it was originally the back half of a wip i abandoned but i couldn’t let this part go. enjoy!!

Mulder gives her a tight hug on the side of a desert highway. Scully presses her forehead to his chest, hoping her thoughts might leave her mind, reach his heart, and convince him to stay. He still gets in the SUV and she never sees him again.

In true Fox Mulder fashion, his physical presence isn’t needed to be a constant reminder. Government officials that she once exchanged pleasantries with at the coffee machine bang down her door and rip apart the life he abandoned.

“Have you heard anything?”

Skinner rifles through papers until the door clicks shut. Her badge feels heavy on her lapel. It feels wrong to be here.

“Only the official warrant,” Skinner answers. That was weeks ago. She has to frequently remind herself that he is doing the best he can. He can’t make it too obvious he’s interested in the hunt. She certainly can’t go digging herself.

“They’re closing the X-files,” he informs her. “There is an appeal process…”

“That’s not necessary,” Scully interrupts. “My assignment was to assess the validity of Mulder’s investigations. There is nothing to assess.”

“You believe in the work.”

“I’m a scientist,” she reminds him, offering nothing else.

Her final report is a jumble of words that states, no matter what she believed, the X-Files should never be reopened.

–

Scully spends idle days breathing in wet air on her mother’s porch. She hopes the sea might soothe her.

A week later, as she plans her return to Washington, she decides emphatically that it did not.

She discovers heart medication in her mother’s bathroom cabinet. Maggie attempts to downplay the circumstances, “It was a blip on a screen, Dana. The doctor said it was just precautionary,” but to Scully, it’s a call to action.

It isn’t difficult to resign. It seemed like it should, after giving the FBI almost a decade of herself, and much, much more than that.

She cries silently in her car after handing over the keys to her dream apartment and saying goodbye to her meticulously curated life.

She reminds herself starting over is the only way to move on. But she isn’t sure she believes it.

–

Scully is a seasoned Special Agent of the FBI, an instructor of pathology, but she struggles to call herself a doctor. After an onslaught of rejected resumes, she begins to believe the medical community of Maryland agrees.

A small hospital outside Baltimore is wowed by her determination alone. At the bottom of the ladder, no one knows the reputation of Agent Scully. She showed promise and expertise in her role, even if her partner was a kook. Dr. Scully has never formally practiced medicine and her bedside manner leaves something to be desired.

Scully hopes for an opening in pathology, where she might be more understood. John From Human Resources hums along with her plight. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he promises.

She begins noticing him behind her in the cafeteria line. On a fall day, she is trying to decide on the best fruit cup when he sides up to her. He is whisper-quiet, conspiratorial in tone when he says, “I wanted to give you a heads up that Dr. Harris may be retiring at the end of the year.”

The may sounds more like an is. A weight inside her lifts.

John assures her she is the first choice when the position officially becomes available. When he leads her to her new office in January, he asks her out to drinks to celebrate, and Scully is surprised, because she forgot people could see her that way.

John is completely unlike anyone else she’s been with. He is endlessly dependable. She never has to worry about where he is because he calls when he’ll be late. He thrives on a fastidious routine and makes safe, informed decisions.

Scully finally moves out of her mother’s house and into a modern three-bedroom she purchases with John. She leads an entirely new life. She climbs the ranks in pathology and is still able to go on real dates, and eat home cooked meals while they’re still hot, and sit in the pew every Sunday. She goes on weekend hikes and uninterrupted trips to the coast and has fine, but not life changing, sex. She accepts John’s proposal on the beach with a beautiful ring.

They have a small wedding. She doesn’t take his last name.

John tries so hard, never asks about her time in the FBI, even tries to adopt a child with her. When it falls through at the last minute, they decide on a dog instead. They get divorced after two years.

In her office one late morning, the phone on her desk lights up. “Dr. Scully, there’s a man on line one asking for you.”

“Thank you,” she says into the speaker. She picks up the receiver with the assumption of a request for a consult. “This is Dr. Scully.”

“Hey, Scully, it’s me.”

She drops the phone.

–

Scully’s stomach is in knots. She is too nervous to order any food. Mulder sits across from her at a diner, looking older and scruffier, and she wonders if this is all a cruel hallucination.

“Where have you been?”

His fingers tap nervously on the table. “Farrs Corner.”

After exploring little towns in the far reaches of nowhere, she remembers that’s Virginia. When she presses for how long, she discovers he’s been within driving distance almost this entire time. Her fingers clench. She wants to strangle him.

“It’s been six years, Mulder. Why now?”

“The FBI dropped the charges against me. I helped them with a case, they wiped the slate clean. I can start my life again, Scully, come back.”

Forget strangle, Scully wants to kill him. He thinks he can just come back? His ignorance to the domino effect of his actions has to be purposeful.

There was a life they wanted to live together that never had the chance to become a reality. She has spent six years trying to fill her life with meaning. Her marriage failed, her career path faltered. They have a child that is no longer theirs.

Scully stands from the booth. She stares down at him, asserts her power.

“I thought you were dead.”

He just nods. He suggests she give him a call, now that she has his number.

She doesn’t.

–

Scully always forgave Mulder too quickly; it was their fatal flaw. She frequently ignored this piece of common knowledge by justifying his more unsavory behavior as residual childhood trauma, or a severe lack of social skills, or plainly being obtuse.

She never found a way to justify him leaving her when she needed him without looking like an emotionally manipulated moron. How could she possibly forgive the embarrassment and isolation she felt after giving up her own child for ostensibly no reason?

Scully bared her soul to him, her body, and gave him everything she had, and she still took a backseat to his quest. There was a brief time where she thought something finally switched in him and the quest would take a backseat to her. In the earliest days of the millenium, working their way up from something undefined to something real.

A month passes. She speaks to no one about her meeting with Mulder, but when she has idle moments, it fills her mind. She tries to remain hot when she begins wondering what Mulder’s life is like now. She attempts to imagine how he filled six years worth of time, because he was never a picture of duality, never able to separate his life from his work, and what can he do after leaving it behind?

It’s a slow burning curiosity. Weeks long. She begins to think he didn’t push during their last meeting because he knew it would happen like this.

She scrolls through recent calls to find the number he left on her office phone. Scully hears the hello in that familiar voice and doesn’t hesitate to respond, “Mulder, it’s me.”

–

Scully sees a dream realized when she pulls up to a little house with a spacious porch on sprawling land. Mulder never liked the city.

He is clearly thrilled to finally present his vegetable garden and his paintings while giving her the grand tour. He recounts putting in the new water heater himself and his plans to replace the roof next spring.

Mulder makes her pasta and gives her the “good chair.” When her stomach is full, they talk about old times. She hasn’t talked about these things in years because she knew there was no one else that can laugh about what she saw instead of instantly recoiling except for the man sitting across from her.

“I have to get back,” she realizes when she sees the sun beginning to set out the window. They spent almost the whole day together. He nods in understanding.

“You see I’m not living in squalor,” he jokes as he walks her to her car.

“It certainly wasn’t the dilapidated hut I was expecting,” she teases. Her tone shifts from silly to serious. “You know, Mulder, after our last meeting, I really didn’t want to come here. I thought…I think you know what I thought. But I’m glad I came.”

“I appreciate any chance you’ll give me, Scully,” he replies.

–

Farrs Corner becomes a regular destination.

Mulder easily becomes the companion she was lacking, the return of the best friend she lost. Even with the passage of time, he still knows her better than anyone else.

She stops offering up her free Friday nights for on-call autopsies and tox screens to watch movies with take-out picked up just before civilization ends.

Without a Saturday shift to spoil their fun, they indulge in the full six pack of their favorite beer. His feet are propped on the coffee table next to their abandoned pizza box, as she folds her legs underneath her on the cushion beside him. She is full-bellied and warm.

“I can’t believe you were married,” he says in disbelief, taking a swig from his bottle. “Considering how many of my proposals you turned down.”

“Maybe I would’ve accepted if any of them had been serious.”

“So you’re saying there was a chance?”

She laughs and nudges his shoulder with the side of her bottle.

When she catches his eye, she sees a person that, yes, she thought she might marry someday. When she was younger, less hard, and had never seen the face of a child that was half him, half her.

She leans forward and presses her lips to his, jerking back as soon as he begins to respond. She tries to find something to say, a reasoning, but she finds his curious gaze, and can’t think of anything to say.

He closes the distance between them and starts where she left off. His kiss is wonderful. It’s hopeful and sexy as all hell.

He nudges her jaw aside with his chin, his mouth seeking out her neck. Her fingers tangle in his hair. “Let’s go upstairs,” he suggests.

–

Standing at the foot of his bed, Scully realizes she’s never been in Mulder’s bedroom before. He has simple furnishings; dark wood and soft blues. His belt clunks when it hits the floor. His bare chest warms her back.

She remembers his warmth, his proclivity to be so tender and gentle, and to let her lead the way. She turns and guides him onto the bed.

Modest kisses quickly turn unrestrained. He breaths in long pants as he shoves her panties down her thighs, letting her kick them over her ankle before hooking them over his hips.

He slips in so easily. Scully explores his changed body; the shifting muscles in his back, his thinner, sweat dampened hair against her hands, his ass clenching as he rocks into her.

Electricity runs through her when his fingers drift to her clit, taking her right to the edge. “Fuck,” he groans, his lips at her ear. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

She moans in utter bliss, deliriously overtaken. When she comes, she shatters. Mulder thrusts two, three times more, before following behind. He spurts hotly into her with growls of satisfaction.

Breathing heavily, they lay bonelessly on their backs. She feels the sweat cooling at her hairline. Her lips break into a big smile and a laugh leaves her lips. His follows and he raises her hand to his lips, feeling his joyous puffs of air against her skin.

“We are still very good at that,” she decides, turning her head toward him.

“You did always bring out the best in me,” he agrees.

Scully finds his boyish nerves when he mentions spending the night charmingly endearing. She wordlessly moves to press herself into his side, clinging to him in answer.

–

Mulder calls their connection cosmic, though Scully doesn’t believe in cosmicity. An otherworldly connect would trivialize their effort so far in their new era.

She worried how they would assimilate into each other’s worlds without the commonality of what easily linked them before. While their forced separation may never be seen as a positive in her eyes, it did allow for the growth to be content in domesticity.

Scully adores the version of Mulder she met over two decades ago. With his unwavering desire for truth and his absolutely brilliant mind. The hours they can spend talking remind her of that man often. They spar as they always did, laugh like no time has passed.

She delights in the side of him that is at peace with the mundane. He likes filling her drawers with clean scrubs, and working in the yard until he returns smelling like freshly cut grass, and giving her drafts of his paranormal mystery novel.

Uncensored honesty is their biggest challenge. It would be so easy to never discuss what plagued them in the past. They finally get to air their fear, their guilt, and their grief. Scully thinks she and Mulder come out better on the other side.

Mulder leads her to the quiet corners of the world, using his freedom to finally venture off his little property. They luxuriate in the Bahamas shortly after their first night together and they start stopping at all the roadside attractions they used to skip. He plans to finally take her to England and show her all the off beaten paths from his youth. She would go anywhere with him.

A beach house in Maine is this weekend’s activity. Scully accidentally leaves her stack of reading on the desk in her office. “I’ll grab them quick and we’ll go,” she promises him, hanging onto the open passenger side window.

“Don’t leave the coast waiting too long,” he teases. “I’m starting to lose my island glow.” She rolls her eyes at him and pushes up on her toes to kiss him briefly.

Though she promises to be quick, Scully still signs into her computer. She printed out the newest articles hastily before an autopsy and notices now that the first ten pages of the article on top are missing. She finds herself drawn to begin reading when she goes to reprint. She pulls out her chair with blind arms, sitting down absently.

She doesn’t realize how long she’s been gone until she sees Mulder enter. “I was starting to think you’d fallen in,” he jokes.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. He brushes off her apology with a wave of his hand, rounding the desk to brace his hand on the back of her chair.

“What are you reading?” he asks.

Case 43-2009. 8-year-old with Brain Scan Abnormalities Presents Potentially Unseen Neurological Disorder.

She breaks her gaze at the screen to bring her eyes up to Mulder.

“We need to find our son.”

[risingsouls]

Conversations: 4

[Part 4! With a hint of shameful(less?) fanservice because the idea popped into my head and it was amusing because these two give zero fucks. A little less heavy than the last few so there’s that? I dunno we’re moving toward something here.]

Nabooru sank into the near scalding and fragrant bath she drew with an extended sigh, her tense muscles and bruises relenting in the pain they caused. Her body like jelly, she reclined back and rested her head on the lip, eyes closing and arms draped haphazardly over the side. 

She needed this last night when she dragged herself back home, but when her heavy eyes landed on her bed on the way, she failed to convince her legs to carry her further. Her head hit the pillow and she was out, exhaustion superseding the pain of her training session with Vegeta. She admired his willingness to push her, upping the difficulty level when he deemed her ready. But yesterday's spar felt more outright aggressive than a measured rise of difficulty. _She_ didn't particularly _mind_, exactly. He had offered her a proper challenge after all. But her sore body when she woke up cursed his name, and the more she thought about it, she wondered at the cause. It didn't help that she had to put this moment on hold to help Nappa out when a trainer didn't show up. Putting the fighters through their paces wasn't difficult. Painful at times due to her pre-established soreness. The trouble was keeping them focused on something other than her damn body and thinking of ways to ask her out for the millionth time.

She hadn't heard from Vegeta yet, and though that didn't mean much when he wasn't reliable with warning her when he planned to show up, she didn't sense him nearby or on the move. She took advantage of the moment of free time to relax before more training, with or without him. She smoothed the loose strands of hair she missed when she tossed it up into a messy bun on top of her head up to her scalp. She hoped she could enjoy this for a while. Maybe squeeze in a quick nap or some relaxing stretches before forcing herself into more strenuous training…

Gold eyes popped open, a groan leaving her lips as her senses picked up Vegeta’s ki signature barreling in her direction all too soon. She willed him to fly passed, head off into the wastes or further north for training on his own to give her that few hours of spoiling herself, but his power faded right at her doorstep. She winced at the bang of the front door slamming the wall and sank further into the tub, feet hanging over the end. 

“Nabooru!”

Nose scrunched, she shouted back, “I’m in the bathroom!” She muttered a few select Gerudo insults into the bubbles. She wasn’t about to abandon her bath; he could wait for her if he was so desperate as to bust into her house like a maniac to begin their training.

Silence relaxed her tensed muscles once more, content with the idea that he either left in a huff or was waiting as patiently as a man like Vegeta could manage. Just as her eyelids lowered, the crunch of footsteps on the carpet heading in her direction snapped them back open. She glanced to the cracked door after ensuring water and suds had her covered. Surely he wouldn’t just walk in would he?

He would.

Vegeta had never ventured past her living room, but following her voice and the self-explanatory layout of what he had come to expect of an Earth home, he traipsed straight through her bedroom to the master bathroom and kicked the door open none too gently. He returned her glare in kind, unbothered by her state of undress or the activity she wasted her time with. The cloyingly sweet, floral scent of whatever substances she threw into her soak only deepened his scowl.

“You know. Telling you I was in the bathroom wasn’t an invitation.”

He ignored her. “Get out. It’s time to train.”

“First of all, I’m not getting out of this tub with you standing there. You haven’t earned that view yet.” She shifted back to a comfortable position and closed her eyes to reinforce her next point. “Second, I’m finishing my bath, so you can either wait or get lost and I’ll come find you when I’m ready.”

Vegeta snarled, and considered grabbing her by the arm and yanking her out anyway. His patience had already thinned closer to nonexistence than usual with annoyance after annoyance derailing his morning routine. Finding Nabooru less than ready to fight him only further perturbed him, but she hadn’t outright refused. With a grunt, he perched himself on the toilet, arms folded and his face set in an impatient scowl.

Nabooru opened one eye. In her haste and concern with keeping herself covered with his unanticipated trespass of her bathroom, she only just noticed his still torn battle suit and cracked armor, a chunk missing from the right side of his chest. She stretched her legs. “Any reason you didn’t change your armor? Or are you going for a new look?”

“Why do you think?” he growled, leather crunching as his hands curled into fists. "Tch, nevermind. Don't answer that. It's because Bulma has refused to repair any of it since I refused to go to some stupid party with her. She also sabotaged the gravity chamber to try and prevent me from training."

The Gerudo couldn't help but snort, both eyes now open and trained on the perturbed Saiyan. Who knew a lover's spat would have him in such a tizzy. "Seems a little far for a grudge over a party, but I guess I can see why she's mad. She probably wants to spend time with her husband."

"I'm _not_ her husband." 

The vehemence of his insistence made her blink, eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Okay, lover, boyfriend, whatever. My point still stands."

Vegeta swept his fingers through his hair. Why the hell had he brought this up? "Look, she's not any of those things to me either, nor am I to her, got it?"

She understood, but his words conflicted with the information she had picked up from other sources. Turning on her side, she folded her arms on the lip of the tub and rested her chin on them. "Everyone else seems to think you two are married. I'm not dumb enough to assume that having a kid together makes you automatically married, so what's the deal, then? 

"That's exactly it: a deal." One he made without considering the consequences or all the implications and during one of the lowest points of his life. He hadn't really cared as long as he could continue going through the motions of his miserable existence in relatively the same pattern as he had been. But now it seemed Bulma had decided to raise his rent, so to speak, pressing fatherly and spousely expectations more insistently on him despite every outright refusal, typically at the cost of his sanity or one of the comforts he had grown used to. "I agreed to let her call me her husband for the sake of her reputation and to make things easier on Trunks while I got to live and train there. There is no formal marriage between us."

"Ah." While a silly concept of the culture, she knew that many women here were looked down upon for having children out of wedlock, just as those in Hyrule had been. And a woman of Bulma's status would face the scrutiny of far more than just her peers. It was a smart tactic and beneficial to both parties and the child they apparently mistakenly made. But, if what Vegeta said was true, she seemed as though she wanted more from their "marriage" than he was willing to give, hence the friction between them and the resulting refusal to supply him with the niceties she had previously. "What changed then? Do you know?"

The urge to snap again rose to the surface, her line of questioning as pointless as ever in his mind. He switched his crossed legs and, fists releasing, he tapped his fingers on his biceps. He didn't want to meet her gaze, but the only other viable option that didn't make that glaringly obvious was to stare straight forward in the long mirror that spanned most of the wall behind the sink and its counter. At his own disgruntled reflection. The view into the bathtub she wasn't _trying_ to offer him. He grunted and swept a hand over his face as heat filled his cheeks. Did he really think sitting here was going to make her finish up quicker?

"I don't know. How could I possibly know that? I barely talk to her if I can help it." He opted on twisting on the toilet seat a half turn, enough to keep his eyes from the mirror and more easily maintain eye contact should he choose as proper conversational decorum dictated. His fingers paused their tapping as he fully considered the question, his own response. Had it always been that way? Not long ago, he had made himself--quite literally forced himself--to be more available to her and Trunks. To awkwardly wedge himself into the role of father and husband with the convoluted idea that it would make him stronger like he surmised Kakarot's family had for him. A theory he didn't think was totally unfounded but he realized had not and could not work for him. His forcing the act aside, he had to find what worked for _him_ instead of focusing and obsessing over how Kakarot reached new and unfathomable heights of power while he remained in the dust.

"I don't know," he said again, tone gruff but softer this time. "Maybe I did...tch, forget it, you wouldn't understand."

"As you said to me a few weeks ago," Nabooru responded with a raised brow, "try me." She shifted back to her previous position, head reclined and eyes closed. "You've already said this much. Might as well get it out of your system."

Vegeta stared at the bottle with light pink liquid perched on the counter's edge, studying the cluster of flowers printed on the label. That explained the fragrance. "In my pursuit of surpassing Kakarot and his brat despite the clown’s death, I made the foolish assumption that throwing myself into the roles of father and husband and learning to care about the two of them would help me get stronger like I assumed his family helped him. _Perhaps_ that is how she has come to the assumption that I want to play the part she so desperately wants me to." His foot tapped the air again, dark brows lowering. “It’s asinine. I can’t go a single day without her nagging.”

“At least you halfway admitted you brought it upon yourself.” The corner of her lips tugged upward in a smirk in the face of his glare. As much as she wanted to berate him for faking a relationship and leading Bulma on, she knew that he didn’t respond well to lecturing and it would be a moot point. He admitted to understanding he made a mistake, even if the reasoning was more selfish than her concern over Bulma’s feelings, too. He had wasted her time, after all. If a true, fairy tale marriage was really what she wanted and he wasn’t willing to give it and didn’t want to, he should have cut ties so she could seek that out. At the same time, she wasn’t completely blameless; prince though he may be, he did not hide the fact that he didn’t fit the bill of the traditional ones the stories described. And if a deal is what it took to pretend they had it all together, she seemed to have missed a fair amount of red flags signaling he didn't want much more to do with her than benefitted him.

The task of “making it” was easier said than done, that she could contend from both her knowledge of his experience and her own. They both had nothing more than the clothes on their backs when they started their lives here, not a cent to their names to start any kind of life on a planet that relied heavily on currency and its technology for real comfort. She and the Gerudo lived in a cave for months, surviving off the land while they found ways to make enough zeni to start their lives or, as they decided, build their community and stick together. For a while they could only purchase a single capsule house at a time and shared the spaces. Their task was far easier as a group working toward the same goal and helping each other. Vegeta was utterly alone, and she could hardly blame him for taking Bulma up on her offer to house him. As far as their strange deal, she could only conjecture why he wouldn't straight up tell her he wanted nothing to do with it anymore outside of simply being unsure of where to go or how to move forward. Vegeta wasn't one to mince words, after all.

“I don’t know if you’re looking for my help here, but...do_ you care about her?” She trailed her fingers along the lip of the tub. “Or is there some other reason you haven’t told her that participating in things you don’t want to do wasn’t part of the deal necessarily?”

The easy answer was comfort. Complacency in the amenities he had become used to. The difficult answer was that he _had_ amounted an inkling of care for Bulma and Trunks. Not in a romantic capacity for the former as she would like. His interest in her was purely physical and, though she tried to fool herself, he knew the same followed for her, too. She showed no interest in him outside of the rare bedroom meetings, and he very typically showed next to no interest in her life either. They had so little in common from their histories to their interests he didn't see how anyone but him seemed to find the sham of a marriage comical.

She tried to act tough since the tournament in the face of the lives he so callously and selfishly took, looking past the countless murders he committed without an ounce of remorse on his part, likely due to their ability to revive them at the near snap of their fingers. Or perhaps she refused to believe he was in control when he had done it, that Babidi instead had of him fully under his spell and orchestrated the attacks through him. Whatever the case, he had seen fear in her eyes on more than one occasion, when he lashed out or his temper got the better of him. Still, her delusions of him and her desire for the perfect family life made her cling to him.

A part of him wanted to protect Bulma and Trunks, but that's as far as his emotional attachment went.

"Complacency. Ease. Comfort." He left it at that; his omission would serve as answer enough to the inquiry concerning his feelings about Bulma. "I...I just didn't care after the Cell Games. I vowed off fighting for nearly a year before I realized it was all that kept me feeling alive. Had I a fortune to give her, my throne, an empire, I would have handed it over without a second thought or any negotiation. I wanted what was easy, so I returned to the life I had become used to."

She stared at him, eyes once more wide with surprise. After another second, he glanced at her, mirroring her expression and apparently just as shocked at the words that tumbled from his lips. The way he stiffened, she expected him to bolt without little more than a "hurry up" and a slam of the bathroom door behind him. She waited, a minute, maybe two. Partially for his benefit in case he did decide to escape the suddenly heavy weight that settled between them and partly for her own benefit. Pain erupted in her chest like a thin blade dragged downward and her lungs felt squeezed and she struggled to find the words to follow that up. To feel that low and with such pride that normally flooded him...she didn't have to imagine it; she had lived it herself. A warrior like him swearing off fighting...

When he didn't move and he sat so still she thought he might have died sitting on top of her toilet, she swallowed and said, "And now you're thinking a little more clearly. Or as clearly as you can manage." Relief flooded her when his focus snapped back to reality from whatever dimension his soul had escaped to, his lip curling up and sharp canines bared in warning. The soft, too high breath of a laugh she released in response attested to her relief. "You realize now that you want...well, what do you want? To be on your own or something? Do things differently and your own way?"

He grunted. He hated to admit he was lost. Clueless of how to move forward and ambitionless. "I don't know what I want, but it's not what I've got."

Nabooru hummed, tapping her nails on porcelain. She studied him, mulling over the possibilities. Only one suggestion stuck.

"Again, I'm not sure you want my advice but hear me out. I think you need the space to figure that out, you know? Staying where you are, you're only going to feel pressured to continue as you have and push yourself into a box you don't want to be in. That perhaps you don't fit in." When he didn't object to her analysis, his sideways glance urging her to continue, she forged on. 

"That said...you can have the guest room here if you want it. I know it's not as roomy or luxurious as Capsule Corporation, but it's comfortable." A pause; she had to choose her words carefully. To ensure he understood she was not offering charity or trying something underhanded. "You don't even have to tell me if you want it or when you plan to stay. You don't even have to interact with me if you don't want. It's not permanent either. I _like_ my own space after being crammed in with the others until we could afford more housing, so I'd rather it stay temporary. I want to give you a comfortable space to help you figure things out away from what you think you don't want. A few months or so should be fine and then we can go from there."

She caught his grimace and added, "No, I'm not trying to trap you or use this to exploit you later. Outside of a sparring partner and decent company, you have nothing I want." Sinking further into the tub, she folded her arms beneath the bubbles. "Besides, you might decide after a couple months away you miss your old life and want to be a husband and father."

"Hmpt. Doubtful." While she spoke, he watched her closely, searching for deceit, a motive. Her neutral expression revealed little, and his natural inclination toward suspicion waned. Still, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Why?"

"Why offer this? The short answer is you're going to be a whole lot more effective as a sparring partner if you're not chronically irritated about your home life, and it will probably help your own growth, too." Another impatient grunt was all the response she received and she shrugged a shoulder in return. "Otherwise, It's the same answer as last time: I understand what it's like to be where you were, wanting to give up everything you were and worked toward."

Vegeta opened his mouth to press her, but she cut him off. "I'll explain another time, promise. It's another long story, and I'm getting wrinkly." She lifted her hand from the water and swept it toward the door. "Go on so I can get dressed. I won't take long and we can go have our spar."

"You'd best not." The Saiyan stood and headed for the door. He slowed at the threshold and glanced back at her, hand on the knob. Gratitude hung from his lips but he kept the words lodged in his throat. Instead he offered a simple nod and left, closing the door behind him.

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 09 - Smoke

A squad of four humans is determined to raid and slay the sinister dragon Wysteria. With modern equipment, how could they fail?

1796 words, cw: death, guns

Four people stood at the entrance to the dragon's lair. Artemis in blue, Aura in yellow, Tobias in red, and Cecil in white. It wasn't the middle ages anymore, of course, and they faced a foe who knew that, as well. The structure was ornate on the outside, depicting Wysteria as a proud dragon and her array of kobolds in a series of relief carvings. Inside, however, was the workings of a dragoness who could use her breath weapon to great effect. A ventilation system that could awe engineers twenty years in the future, a confusing grid of similar rooms, and a fast and efficient variant on a typical intercom system. Its only weakness was a near-complete lack of doors, instead relying on offset walls to hide the scaly mistress of the fortress. The quartet of aspiring dragonslayers steeled themselves before their assualt.

Artemis flicked on his comms. "Alright, we're going in. Gear check, everyone. Goggles?" A chorus of yeses. "Piercing rounds?" Aura and Cecil replied in the affirmative. "Explosive? Got mine." Tobias gave him a thumbs-up. "And most important. Masks?" The four of them brought their gloved hands to their faces, ensuring that the gas mask each of them wore was tight on, letting no unfiltered air into their mouth or nose. It didn't matter how smart you thought you were, how resiliant you thought you were, or how well you thought you knew the building layout. Once she had you, it was over.

"All clear, then. Remember: we have air tanks, but the best way to live is to never lose the mask in the first place. Now then, on three..." The humans' attention moved to the door, and they tensed, ready for the dash in. "One... two... three!"

Artemis kicked the door in, snapping a couple of its hinges, then ran in, the other three close behind. Intel had been very good to them; getting to Wysteria was a direct path, no exploring and backtracking needed. All the squad had to do was get in, take out any of her scaly guards and helpers in their way, shred her scales and blast her to bits. It wasn't pretty, and the blue-clad man had correctly guessed that he'd have nightmares for months after their first job, but it was damned effective, and that's all that mattered against a dragon.

A couple rooms were cleared easily - the kobolds who didn't run fast enough earned a nice dirt nap. After that, the visibility started to worsen. Wysteria's breath weapon was pink, and that was the color the air began to turn as they hurried deeper into her lair.

"Behind us, sir!" Aura cried out. They spun, seeing something flying through the air towards them. A burst of rifle fire nicked it well before the projectile could come close, and with a loud explosion, it detonated. Artemis braced himself against the shock, and was pleased to see his squadmates did as well. Cecil threw a few more rounds down the corridor, in case the thrower had any more funny ideas, but they were soon back on pace.

Tobias went on the comms. "Hey, you guys hear a hissing?" she asked, "intel didn't say anything about nagas. Our girl's supposed to be kobold and kobold only."

Cecil slowed and turned his head to listen, then swore loudly. "Air tanks! They got mine."

"Right. Pressure check, guys. I'm at... aw hell, I'm zero in a few seconds," Artemis reported."

"Same."

"They got all of us- FUCK!" Tobias was on the ground, hand to her face. In front of her, the floor tile had sprung open, and a kobold, with one knife in her shin and one plunged towards her head, crouched before her. It was dead before it could even think to swing again.

Artemis crouched by her; Cecil and Aura brought their guns up, scanning for more aggressors. "Toby, did it get you? How are you doing?"

"I'm dead. Go."

"Hey," Artemis said firmly, "Johann patched up my eye, and he got that knife out of Aura's heart. You're not dead."

"No," Tobias said, letting her hand fall away. There was no blood, but the front of her gas mask had been severed. It couldn't have gotten all the filters, but... "I'm dead. Go." Tobias pointed onward.

Artemis followed her hand. It wasn't where Wysteria was. It wasn't where they came from. He sighed. "Toby... get yourself home, before it gets into you. We'll press on."

"Yes, sir." Tobias said. She stood, limping a little from her wounded leg, and hobbled off in a fourth, unrelated direction. Artemis got back up to his feet, too.

"Do we retreat?" Cecil asked. "We're down one now, no backup air. They land another hit like that, lucky or not, and I don't think we're getting out alive."

Artemis watched helplessly as Tobias, barely wounded, wandered to her death. "I... we don't have longer on. Take down Wysteria, and the kobolds should surrender fast enough." He gestured towards where the dragon would be, where the pink smoke billowed and they would need their visors to see even such a large creature. "Right now, we're best off making sure she has as little time as possible to prepare for us. Keep your eyes peeled for more tricks, but we're going after her."

Aura fired a round at a glimmer of scales, the resulting explosion rewarded with a yip and a crash, followed by seeing a dazed, possibly dead kobold fall across the door. "Agreed. We can't flee or fight if we wait here to be surrounded."

Cecil nodded. "Yes sir, ma'am." The three pressed on. Just a few more walls to wind around.

Suddenly, a blast of hot air slammed into them from the side. Cecil slid through the door to the next room over, but Aura and Artemis hit the wall, jarring his senses. Heart pounding with adrenaline, the man quickly got up, noticing with a twinge of dread that Aura failed to get up, just twitched weakly on the floor. Alive, he could tell, but unless Cecil showed back up, he'd be taking her on alone. On the plus side, he knew exactly where the dragoness was.

"I'm a little impressed. I actually had to step in!" Wysteria's voice was a low rumble; as she spoke, more thick, pink smoke fell from her jaws. Unfortunately for her, that just gave Artemis an excellent target. He swung his gun up, took aim at that fountain of smoke, and squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened. He looked down. Jammed? No, his weapon didn't jam. He'd managed to run out of ammo taking out kobolds earlier. He reached for another mag, but stopped when he saw the kobold beside him. It watched him, the smuggest of smiles on its face, as it casually juggled a few magazines in its scaly hands, tossing them almost as high as his chest, before catching them all again and scurrying off.

"Don't look so low, human," the dragoness mocked, "I hear males of your species often have trouble shooting all their shot too early."

Artemis looked around. His thoughts went to Aura. Even if she couldn't fight, he could still use her weapon to fight, himself. However, when he looked back down towards her, he saw a blood-chilling sight. Aura had begun to shrink, golden scales appearing on her skin, and her face was gradually lengthening, like a snout. "A-aura?"

"Aw, he's grieving," Wysteria said without a hint of pity or concern. "Here, tell you what, silly human. No harm, no foul, right? You still haven't shot me, so I'm willing to allow you to take this... Aura of yours and flee. You're outnumbered one to... well, let's not get into details, and hopelessly outgunned. I do so wish that you'll take me up on the offer."

Silent, a little dumbfounded, he scooped Aura up in his arms. She was more kobold than human now, and light enough to carry, but if there was a way for Wysteria to do it, there had to be a way for someone to undo it. He turned and walked out of the room. Following the map he had used to find the dragoness, he now used it to find his way back out. A left, a right, two more lefts, straight a few times, and then left again.

As he rounded the last corner, he was relieved to see Johann in the med bay, waiting to tend to the squad's injuries. The doctor gestured for him to lay Aura down on the observation table, and for him to sit for his own examination. Artemis shook his head. "Doc, focus on her. I hardly got a scratch." Johann stared at him, then slowly shook his head and turned his attention to the golden-scaled kobold.

Artemis walked out of the room and into the freight elevator. He tapped the number for the dormitories, and waited as the spacious car ascended. Finally, the opposite door opened, and he stepped out as pink smoke billowed in. Wysteria blinked at him, then smiled. "Oh, don't you look nice now."

"How do I get Aura back to normal?" Artemis demanded. His voice sounded a little odd. Clearer than how it had been muffled when he first entered her lair, but still different from his usual voice. "I know you have to know!"

"Is your mask on tight enough?" she responded, "because you're making rather strange assumptions."

The man squinted at her. He reached up. His mask was still there. A little bulkier... longer, perhaps, and it pressed on his nose more comfortably than he thought it had been, but still there all the same. "Answer me, dragon."

The dragoness's smile widened into a sharp-toothed grin. "Strange, I would have thought you'd have taken it off when you dropped Goldie off. Oh well, I'll play along for a bit longer." At Artemis's sharp glare, she rolled her eyes. "Well, fine. I would tell you, but the spellbook with that information is being stolen. Bring the book AND the thief back to me, and I'll give you what's desired."

Artemis tilted his head, curious. "Is being stolen? Not was stolen?"

"The thief is a human clad in white. My other kobolds are trying to slow him down, but that's all they can seem to do. He's armed with a rifle of some kind, so be careful."

Artemis nodded as she spoke. "Alright. So, grab the thief, bring him back, and you'll tell me what to do about Gol- about Aura? Simple enough. Anything else?"

Wysteria smiled and blew a blast of pink smoke at him, just to tease him. "Oh, he's a good deal taller than most humans are, you'll think. But that's all. Mind your tail, little silver one."

[mystery-star]

Threshold of Space - Chapter 11 Familiarity

Pairing: Spock x OC

Warnnigs: mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of past to dub-con

Words: 6384

All Parts: 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |  Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

-

“So uhm… how did the hearing go?” Carissa asked

“Quite well. Oliver’s expelled for what he did”

“Really? That’s great” she beamed “Now he won’t bother me again”

“Besides, it’s not technically your fault because the accuse was ‘attack on two Starfleet Officers’”

“That’s good. Then his buddies will leave me alone. They’re a bit daft and probably won’t figure out that it’s my fault. At least I hope so. What about Jim?”

“Oh, he got suspended for two weeks. But since we can’t really do anything but repair the ship at the moment he’s okay with it. He thinks of it as a holiday”

“That’s good to hear. What about Spock?”

“He got praise for ‘role-modelling and ending a fight’, what else?”

“But-but he knocked Oliver down”

“No, he didn’t. When Oliver lunged at him, he merely stepped aside so that the idiot fell himself. He didn’t even touch him. Of course Oliver tried to claim that wasn’t the case and that Spock beat him… but there were too many witnesses who have watched the fight so you can imagine where that went…”

“And you? What about you?”

“Well, I only was a witness because I was not involved in the fight at all. I also confirmed that you actually got bruised ribs thanks to Oliver” she nodded “Before I forget it; Spock has said he will come once he is finished to bring you home”

“Okay” to her surprise, her boyfriend came earlier than she thought. McCoy excused himself and said he would go home

“Please, just turn off the lights and lock the door when you leave. I take it you’ll manage that, Spock?”

“Don’t we need to clean up first?”

“No. I put everything I needed away, besides they will need to clean everything anyway before the semester starts”

“Okay” she nodded

“Well then, I’ll be gone. Have fun you two and good holidays to you. See you and get well soon”

“Thank you. And thank you for everything you did for me in the past hours. It means a lot to me”

“Of course. I saved your life, now I’m responsible for you” she rolled her eyes and watched as he left. Shortly after the door was closed, Spock placed his hand on hers

“And thank you too” she said, covering and squeezing his hand.

“You are welcome”

“I’m sorry that I dropped the accuse in the first hearing. I just didn’t feel well at all… and I thought that we’d never get to an end if it continued like this. Besides, you were right. It was indeed Oliver who was behind this. He admitted it before he attacked Jim”

“I was aware of the truth”

“Then aren’t you… angry I well… ruined the chance to have Oliver punished before he did something else?”

“I do not blame you for any of the incidents that have happened and I was aware of your uncomfortableness during the initial hearing. You are right with the assumption that a continuation of it would not have been prosperous”

“Yeah. And in the end we got Oliver punished anyway… not that I’d want to be gleeful but I’m glad that he will be gone”

“This is indeed fortunate since the possibility that he would have concocted a new plan against you amounts to 94.27 percent”

“Make it a hundred. Because he ‘promised’ me to make me pay. Actually, he wanted me to meet him later today. And… he threatened to hurt someone else if I didn’t show up.  Fuck. What am I gonna do? What if he makes his threat come true? He would go after Nicole and Leonard”

“I doubt that Cadet Moore will have the time to find either of them until his departure tomorrow”

“So he will be gone by then?” he agreed “But what if he tells his friends to make his threat come true and go after Nicole anyway when the new year begins?”

“There is nothing we can do to prevent this”

“Well there is a way… I could do what he wants”

“This option is beyond all question”

“What else can we do? I can’t let him hurt my friends because of me!”

“Carissa, even if you comply with his request you have no guarantee that he will not harm your friends. In fact, the chance that…”

“I don’t want to hear your number! What would you do in my situation? I know you would go there too! Besides, if I let him have his will, I can make him promise that he will leave my friends alone”

“Unfortunately, that contract would be invalid according to paragraph 18 of contract law”

“And why is that? What does it say?”

“That any contract which content is impossible, unlawful or immoral is invalid. Thus, he would be officially allowed to rescind from it”

“Spock, I don’t think he knows about that law…”

“Which does not mean he would not exercise his right.” he grabbed her shoulders “Carissa, please try to understand that your appearance would not change anything”

“I know this is silly, stupid and illogical. But if there is any chance that he’s satisfied after he… well… it’s worth it”

“Carissa, I have given you my word to not inhibit you from making your own decisions and would only offer you advice but if you insist to go ahead with your plan, you will leave me no choice but to break this promise. Which again would mean you would have to end our relationship as this was one of the conditions that you agreed to a reunion”

“You-you’d rather I break up with you than doing what he wants?”

“Neither of the options is favorable but I would indeed prefer the first one” she took a deep breath (as deep as her injury allowed without pain) and nodded

“Okay” she said “I know you well enough to know that you’d actually stop me if you have to… So I wouldn’t even have a chance against you… you won. I won’t go but I want to warn Nicole and Leonard. Just in case he makes his threat come true. Maybe we should inform someone from the Academy as well…” he gave a nod as well

“Then I will caution Doctor McCoy and see to it that the personnel of the Academy is informed while you can warn your friend”

“Okay. Thanks” he let go of her

“I think it would be better if I found another place to spend the night and I will organize you another accommodation for when you return from your vacation”

“Why that?” she felt her heart bumping painfully fast. Did he want to throw her out?

“Seeing as I broke my promise, you will have no choice but to end our relationship” she was silent for a while as she tried to process his words. Then she almost felt like laughing.

“Oh Spock” she sighed, sitting up and cupping his face “I’m not gonna break up with you. Technically, you didn’t even break your promise, you only said you would do it and in the end it was my decision not to go. Besides, I didn’t mean it literally. I wouldn’t break up with you just because you’re not accepting my decision once… but if you kept doing this and started to limit my freedom I would eventually finish with you… which doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you right now” she bit her lip “Okay, no I don’t think I am mad at you but I should be” she hit his chest “I just can’t really be mad at you. I hate you for this” he only raised an eyebrow

“I am relieved to hear that but your last statement is inconsistent as you cannot not feel anger towards me and hate me at the same time”

“And this is exactly why I can’t hate you for long” she sighed as she buried her face in his chest.

“Is there anything I could do to eradicate your emotional conflict?”

“Oh no” she hummed “If you want to earn my forgiveness you can strain your brain a little”

“Would you consider a kiss an appropriate apology?”

“Depends on what kind of kiss…” he lifted her face and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. When they parted she nodded “Apology accepted”

-oO0Oo-

Somehow Carissa had the feeling that her chest hurt even more in the morning as she got up. Her boyfriend was already up and was preparing breakfast.

“Good morning, Carissa. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? Like a bloody starship used my chest as landing place”

“Your comparison does not make any sense since starships are not meant to land on the ground”

“Fine like a shuttlecraft landed on me. Happy?” he placed a plate in front of her

“It was not my intention to anger you, please forgive me if I did so”

“No it’s fine… I’m just tired. Why couldn’t there be a train that leaves later?”

“If you had used the last evening for packing, you could have slept longer”

“It was our last evening together… I didn’t want to waste it with packing” she huffed. After breakfast, Spock helped her pack, probably because he didn’t want her to strain herself. As he had promised her the previous day, he then brought her to the train station to see her off. She felt strange to know that he wouldn’t be around for a longer time, after all she had gotten used to seeing him every day. Or almost every day. They reached the platform and Carissa fumbled with the hem of her shirt. “That means goodbye, I guess?” she sighed and hugged him, ignoring the painful pressure on her ribs. He only placed his hands on her back and she didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to hurt her or because he wasn’t comfortable to show affection in public. But he did something, that was everything that counted for her “I’ll miss you” she mumbled

“I must admit it will be unaccustomed to have my apartment to myself”

“You’ll just miss my help, admit it”

“That is not true” she chuckled

“Nice to know” she pulled away a little and pecked his cheek.

“Will you promise me to take care?”

“Okay. There’s not much I can do anyway… everyone I know and want to see seems to have left for holiday… So the most dangerous thing that can happen is that I get bored to death. As for you… make sure no one tries to… I don’t know, take over earth or something”

“The possibility that his would happen in that time frame is below 6.7 percent” she giggled

“Good” to her surprise, he pecked her cheek before he helped her mount the train and lifted her suitcase and Blacky’s transport cage into the train as well. She dragged her stuff into the inside of the train to get a seat. Biting her lip she stared at the storage space above her head and doubted that she could bring her stuff up there. But she couldn’t leave in in the aisle either or place it on the seat next to her. Luckily, she got help from a middle-aged man before she got completely desperate. “I’m sorry” she said. “I could have lifted it myself but I shouldn’t… I uh… bruised my ribs”

“I hope you get better soon then”

“Thanks” she smiled and sat down, tucking her tomcat under her thin jacket that he couldn’t run away. “Guess what, Blacky? We’re going home” the animal let out a meow “Yes I know you’ll miss Spock, I will miss him too” she looked out of the window but as it seemed, he must have already left. He probably didn’t want to be even later for work than he already was. After all he was in charge now that Jim got suspended. The train started moving and Carissa pulled out her PADD to watch a movie.

-oO0Oo-

Her mother was awaiting her at the train station when she arrived and took her into a bone crushing hug.

“Ugh… Mum, my ribs” she panted, trying her best to avoid any contact

“Oh I’m sorry, honey. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. The journey was good”

“Did you have lunch?”

“Of course I did”

“Something from the train? I do believe those food synthesizers are older than the Federation itself…”

“No, actually I got something from a little store at the train station before I got onto the train”

“Oh that’s good. Let’s get you home them” she took Carissa’s suitcase and her rucksack so that she only carried Blacky in her arms and his transportation box.

-oO0Oo-

Somehow she felt strange about being back home. Although some things had changed, it still was like she remembered it. Just her room was just as she had left it a year ago, the only change was that her sheets had been changed. She decided to unpack her things before her father came home. Once he did, they had dinner together and Carissa was asked about her plans for the following weeks

“I guess I’ll just stay around here quite a lot”

“You know, Stoltenborg moved away”

“Oh did he?” she asked, internally feeling glad that the old neighbor wouldn’t be around anymore

“Yes, instead a young couple moved there. They’re your age. Maybe you can meet them once?”

“Hm I’ll see” she wasn’t too happy to go out and meet new people. At least not if she had to befriend them. If it were people of other background she would find it interesting to learn more about them.

“I could invite them over for lunch this week?”

“Maybe?” she said with a shrug “Speaking of lunch… I could help in the restaurant a bit sometimes”

“But you don’t have to, honey. This are your holidays”

“I know… but otherwise I’ll get bored”

“We’ll see”

-oO0Oo-

Her mother still invited the couple that now lived nearby over for lunch one day and although Carissa liked them, she knew that they’d never be friends. She spent most of her days in her bed, reading or watching something or tried to teach Blacky some stupid tricks. At times she also called her friends and Jessica, her best friend from high school, said she would be back from Egypt a couple of days before Carissa had to leave. Which meant, she only had to dawdle away another couple of weeks.

One afternoon, Carissa sat on her chair at the kitchen table with her knees tucked up and she tried to make Blacky move who had curled up on the chair beside her by tickling his whiskers with his cat toy. His nose twitched comically making her giggle.

“Oh Carissa, leave that poor animal alone”

“What? If he was annoyed he would be long gone. I’m just trying to stimulate him that he plays with me” as it seemed he must have decided that this was enough and he jumped of the chair, arched his back then dashed away. “Oh man” she huffed and dropped the stick with the toy on the chair he had been on “Now I’m alone again”

“As I said, you could go and see Melissa and Zane”

“You told me that over twenty times. And I told you every time that I don’t really like them enough to become friends with them”

“I didn’t say anything about becoming friends. Just spend time with them. Oh or you know what? I’ll ask if Chester has time”

“Chester?”

“Your best friend from day nursery”

“What? I was three at that time. We’ve last seen each other over eighteen years ago”

“Yes, but his mother and I are still friends. And he moved back to town a couple of months ago”

“Okay, Mum… I appreciate your help but you don’t need to try and make me meet all kinds of people I’ve known as a child or that are twice my age… I really am fine being here”

“Why don’t you go to town and have some fun? Alone? Go get an ice cream”

“I’ve had ice cream four times in the past two weeks”

“It can’t hurt to have one more” she ruffled her hair, making her sigh. The doorbell rang and Carissa got up as well, grabbing her shoes “What are you doing?” her mother asked

“Getting an ice cream as you said”

“Wearing that?” she said, eying her tank top and hot pants critically

“Mum, come on, it’s 96 degrees. Just a wacko would go out with more clothes on” she said as she put on her shoes “Well uh, I’m gonna take the back exit. Your visitor won’t like it if I just push past them” she waved her mother goodbye and tried to leave the corridor before her mother opened the door.

“Oh. Carissa come here, it’s for you” she stopped dead in her tracks.

“For me?” she squeezed her eyes. Of course, her mother must have called some old friend of hers anyway to make her spend time with someone. Suppressing a sigh she turned around, already trying to find an excuse to get away quickly, then she recognized her visitor and her jaw almost dropped. “Spock?! What are you doing here?” she shrieked, sprinting towards him and throwing herself round his neck.

“The Captain has urged me to take a holiday and after 26 hours I did not know how to spend these days, thus I have decided to visit you” she smiled and pressed herself closer to him

“You’ve got no idea how happy this makes me” he didn’t reply and leaned his head onto hers for a while, until she pulled away and let go of him. Instantly, her mother was there too and tried to shake his hand again, then failed at another attempt of the Vulcan greeting.

“It’s nice to see you. Carissa, why don’t you show him the house and the guestroom?”

“That will not be necessary I will reside in a hotel during my stay”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re staying with us”

“In other words, you have no choice. Because there’s only a hostel nearby, not a hotel. We really live in the back of beyond” Carissa translated

“I do not wish to cause you inconvenience”

“Of course not! I’ll just go and put clean sheets on the bed. Or wait, Carissa, maybe he wants to choose the sheets I’m sure he’ll like the galaxy ones” she rolled her eyes

“Mum, I have the galaxy ones at the moment....” she looked at her boyfriend “Alright, let’s go, then you can put your things there”

“I’ll be in the kitchen” Rachel said and Carissa knew that she’d be preparing something to eat. She took off her shoes and dropped them next to the shoe rack before she led Spock to the guestroom.

“Okay, you can put your things into the dresser over there. It’s just, the drawer at the bottom is already full with board games and some of my old toys. I’m gonna get you some sheets. We’ve got: dinosaurs, flowers, palm trees, red and yellow stripes, a lion or letters. Oh or a plain purple one. Or I can go and see what my parents have”

“I would like the banded one” Carissa nodded

“I’ll go get them, you can unpack your things in the meantime. You can come to my room next door when you’re done. Then I’ll put the sheets on.” she placed a hand on his arm, then left to get the sheets from the storage room. Then she went to her own room, not wanting to disturb her boyfriend. Besides, she had to tidy up her room a little. She chuckled because she had wanted to do this days ago. At least she now had a reason to do so. But she didn’t really pay attention where she put the stuff, as long as it wasn’t visible. So, she pulled out the drawer from under her bed and tried to stuff her clothes in there when she saw something shiny under her bed. Wanting to know what it was, she tried to crawl under the bed but to no avail. That was when she decided she had to move the bed and braced herself against it and tried to push. It didn’t budge and she kicked the frame, regretting it when a piercing pain shot through her whole body and she cried out. She held her toes, bouncing around in pain. As always, it got worse and she stumbled over the drawer she had pulled out and fell right into it. “What luck that I’m lazy” she mumbled, being thankful that she had stuffed her clothes into it earlier.

“Carissa?” she heard her mother shout “Everything okay up there?”

“Yes Mum” she cried when Spock entered the room. She was sure to have seen a slight flash of amusement on his face when he saw her lying in the drawer

“How did this situation come to be?”

“Well first I was only tidying up my room, then I saw something under my bed that arose my interest and I tried to get it. When it didn’t work I kicked against the bed and in my pain I stumbled over the drawer and fell into it” she said as she got up, rubbing her ass.

“What is it that you have spotted beneath your bed?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know.” This time she leaned her back against the bed and tried to push with her legs. Spock appeared beside her and placed a hand on her arm, gently nudging her to get up. With two swift movements he had pushed the bed away enough that Carissa could retrieve the object which she recognized as her old pocket telescope. “Oh there it is. I must have kicked it under the bed when I packed for the Academy” she remembered how she wanted to take to the Academy in her first year but suddenly couldn’t find it anymore.

“What are you two doing up there? I hope you’re not trying to move both beds in one room!”

“Of course not Mum” she shrieked and let out a groan. When she looked back at Spock she grinned a little. “You should have heard her when I told her that I stay at your place at the moment… she gave me a very embarrassing talk” she sighed and took another look at her telescope, wiping dust off it. “I thought I had lost it” she mumbled and grinned when memories came up. “When they gave me this telescope for Christmas when I was ten, I spent hours watching the sky and doodling star charts. And sometimes I invented stories about my adventures in space… I guess I saved half the universe and the inhabitants of the planets made me their queen. Or I was abducted and the boy I had a crush on at the time would save me and then tell me that he loved me and all...” she chuckled “I think I’ve got the booklet with the stories I wrote down somewhere” she placed the telescope on her table and went to her shelf. “Oh or are you done? Shall I put on the new sheets?”

“No, I did not finish and I am capable of changing the bedding on my own”

“Oh okay. If you need my help, you’ll know where you find me”

“I appreciate your offer for help but I am certain that it will not come to that” she nodded and tried to pull her bed back in place. Spock showed her to step aside again and pulled the bed back with one hand before he left

“Showoff” Carissa muttered, failing to stifle a grin.

-oO0Oo-

Once her boyfriend had unpacked everything Carissa told him of his plan to go to town to have an ice cream.

“But if you want to do anything else, we can do that too. Unfortunately, there isn’t much to see here… I could show you around a little but it’s too hot to do a lot”

“I believe that getting an overview of the town would be the best option”

“So sightseeing?” he agreed.

“Great, let’s go. I mean, you can get changed and then we leave”

“There will be no need for me to change my clothes” she stared at his dark long-sleeved shirt and long trousers

“Err okay…” she said with a shrug. “Let’s go”

“Where are you going?” her mother asked when they came downstairs

“I’ll show him around in town…”

“Oh that’s nice. Do you need a map?”

“Mum, I grew up here. I certainly don’t need a map!” she sighed and put on her shoes again. Her mother appeared in the corridor and handed each of them some water

“Don’t forget to drink out there. It’s hot” Carissa rolled her eyes

“Thanks Mum” she said

“I’ll get you a bag” with that, Rachel left again and returned with a handbag which she handed to her daughter

“Thanks” she quickly left the house and placed the handbag behind a bush “Let’s leave that stuff here, there are water fountains in town. We won’t die of thirst and I don’t want to carry that around” she explained and Spock handed her his water bottle

“It would be wiser if you took something with you. Due to perspiration you will lose up to 23.255 percent of your…”

“Okay, I get it, Mum” she opened the bottle and drank all of it before tossing it to the bag. “There, can we go now? I filled my water reservoirs” Spock raised an eyebrow but nodded.

-oO0Oo-

After a short tour through her hometown, Carissa needed something to cool down (and use the toilet) so she more or less dragged the Vulcan to the ice cream parlor. He didn’t seem too happy with her choice and only ordered something to drink.

“Are you sure you don’t want any of my ice cream?” she asked, waving it in front of his face

“I have already assured you that I do not want to taste it”

“Okay. More for me then” she replied and suddenly got an idea and pressed the ice cream in his face. When she saw his mien she almost fell off her chair from laughter

“How can your immature behavior be that amusing to you?” he replied

“It’s not just what I did… did you see your face?” when she tried to lick at her food again, one scoop fell down into her lap, making her shriek.

“I am quite certain that this was a demonstration of the Indian concept called Karma”

“Oh just shut up or I’ll drop the rest of my ice cream on you” she huffed as she got up to find napkins.

“Hey uh, can I help you?” she looked up and almost jumped back in shock when she recognized the guy as Finn, her ex.

“No, I’m fine”

“You missed something, right there” he took a napkin himself and tried to wipe away some of the mess on her shorts.

“Get your paws off me” she barked, taking a step back

“I was only trying to help”

“Yeah and hoped you could have a grope”

“That’s not true”

“This is what it’s always been”

“You said it. Has been. I changed”

“God, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I realized I was an idiot and that I would like to try it again”

“Sorry, I got someone else”

“Bullshit. You’re only saying that because you don’t want me to prove that I changed”

“No, I am saying this because I have a boyfriend and he’s only sitting a few feet away”

“But-but you can’t do that”

“What? I broke up with you, so I can date whoever I like. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’m going back to my boyfriend.” she tried to leave, not caring about her mess anymore. But Finn grabbed her wrist.

“Wait. I-I admit, this meeting wasn’t as I have imagined it… but I’m sure if we went out together and talked a bit…”

“Whoa” she broke away from him “I’m not going out with you”

“Why not?”

“First of all, I am dating someone else. Secondly, even if I didn’t I wouldn’t want to spend time with you. You don’t seem to understand what you did to me!”

“But you don’t have to tell him”

“No, as I said I don’t want to spend time with you”

“But I changed”

“I hope you did. You can prove that to someone else. Look, the waitress over there. Why don’t you go and flirt with her?”

“She won’t know that I changed. And I don’t love her I love you”

“Hard luck. I don’t”

“The feelings will come back”

“Ah wait, now that you said it… I think I feel something for you…”

“Really?”

“Embarrassment, hatred and annoyance” she hissed. Finn chuckled

“I’ve always liked your sense of humor”

“Bad thing I was serious”

“Carissa” he placed his hands on her shoulders “all I am asking you for is a second chance”

“Finn look, I have already told you that I have a new boyfriend now, and even if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t want you back. You hurt me and you don’t even care”

“What has he that I don’t have?” she had a look at the time

“I think the shop will close before I’m done…”

“Carissa, I know I behaved stupidly and I wanted things you weren’t ready for but that’s over. Besides, this time it won’t be that special anymore because you’re not a virgin anymore”

“And how is that a sign for me being ready or willing to… do you even hear yourself talking? That makes no sense. God, why do I only realize now how stupid you actually are?” she groaned and felt tears burning in her eyes. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it

“Please. I can make you happy” she tried to free her hand

“Finn, I am not interested. Just leave me alone”

“Can I come and visit you?”

“No!”

“How else can I reach you?”

“Not at all. I’ve made myself clear when I told you that I don’t want to hear from you again”

“But that was ages ago” he brought her hand to his lips and she was quick to pull it away

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed crossing her arms.

“I told you that I changed”

“Changed? That you’re not pushy anymore? You’re trying to persuade me to get back together with you and you touch me without asking first? No I even told you to stop and yet you continued. I’m having a flashback”

“But it has never bothered you before”

“It did and I told you but you didn’t care. That is why I broke up with you”

“I do believe that she has made her request to be left alone quite plain” she heard Spock’s voice behind her

“What do you care? Who are you even? No, what are you?”

“Finn, this is my boyfriend”

“What? That cannot be… you left me… for that?”

“Excuse me but I left you for being an asshole. I just was lucky enough to meet Spock later on” she glanced back at him, realizing that he had cleaned up his face completely.

“What happened to his ears? Why don’t they look normal?”

“He’s Vulcan”

“Vulcan? But isn’t that a burning mountain?”

“Okay, first of all, that is called a volcano. Secondly, it’s not burning, it is just... well filled with lava, which isn’t quite correct but I doubt you’d comprehend if I tried to explain it anyway”

“But what…? I mean just look at him. That is… you know… Where and how did that happen?”

“I apologize but speaking rate as well as the incomplete and incoherent sentences have made it impossible for me to conceive the content of your inquiry”

“What?” Finn’s jaw dropped open

“He asked ‘what?’” Carissa translated “But we won’t answer your question because this is none of your concern” She turned back to Spock. “Come on, let’s go”

“I really don’t see what he has that I don’t… except for weird ears”

“Finn, we had that”

"Yes and you didn't answer my question"

"This conversation is ridiculous!" she sighed. "Just leave us alone" Finn crossed his arms

"Oh yeah? Is it though?" he turned to her boyfriend "Listen, I don't know who or what you are but stay away from her. She deserves better than you"

"Oh someone like you maybe?" she taunted

"Yes" he glared at the other male

"It is not my intention to leave Carissa unless it is her wish"

"There you go. Piss off" she made a shooing hand movement. Her ex made no move

"So you want to sort this out the hard way?"

"Okay, you're stupid" Carissa hissed "Besides, I doubt my boyfriend as that daft to use violence because of me, which is one point why he's better"

"Since when do you speak for him?" he glanced past her at the Vulcan "What do you say?"

"I agree with my girlfriend. The use of violence is highly illogical and unnecessary in this situation"

"What else are we gonna do to establish the matter?"

"You could just shut up and leave. That would be clever and nice of you. But come to think of it… you're neither so I guess you'll stay" she sighed "How else can I make it plainer to you that I'm absolutely not interested?"

"I know that you will change your mind. What do you even know about your 'boyfriend?' Maybe their culture is different and you two are long married and you don't even know"

"I doubt that. Besides, I would have nothing against marrying him right now just that you piss off" he shook his head

"I don't believe it. But have it your way then. One day you'll wish you had left him before"

"The only thing I wish is that I had left you earlier. Or never dated you manipulative prick at all"

"That doesn't change anything" again he turned to Spock "Just that you know. She's not a virgin anymore"

"Oh wow, congratulations. Of course that will be the thing that makes him break up"  

"Maybe that is something special in his culture and he can't have you anymore"

"Your assumption is wrong"

"There you go" this time she had enough and grabbed Spock's wrist "Now let's go"

"This talk isn't over yet!"

"Fine, then continue it as a monologue because we're going. We've got better stuff to do" outside the parlor she sighed in relief "Sorry, I told you about him…. But he wasn't that crazy at the time we’ve been together. At the end maybe, when I realized how stupid he actually is."

"Is he hoping for another try at your relationship?"

"Unfortunately" he said nothing more "Okay, let's forget this. I don’t want to think of him. What else would you like to do?"

-oO0Oo-

Once they were home, the Vulcan announced that he wanted to meditate in the guestroom.

"Okay, I'll tell Mum to be quiet" she pecked his cheek and left "I think you should wait a little before you start because she might come up to offer you her yoga mat or whatever…" she chuckled and closed the door.

"So, how was your date?"

"It wasn't a date, we just went to town together and had an ice cream. Well I did. Uh, Mum, he said he'd like to meditate now. Which means he wants silence. Can you please be quiet a little?"

"Of course. Do you think he'll want some candles? I still got scented ones" she hurried away, probably to get them

"No, Mum, as I said he only wants some peace. Just stay downstairs and relax a little"

"Or I could go and join him. I've learned some relaxing techniques in my yoga class"

"Mum no, this is important to him. And he wants to do it alone because it’s very private. Please, just promise me to stay downstairs. I'll help you clean something if you want" she smiled at her daughter

"If it means this much to the both of you I respect his wish" she took a seat on the couch "I'll just be here and read"

"Thanks, Mum. I think I'll join you and put a note at the door for Dad that he knows when he comes home. Or maybe I'll wait outside because otherwise he'll shout through the whole house why he should be quiet…" she corrected.

"Do you think he'll need that long to meditate?"

"It depends. He usually only does that when he had to deal with emotions or if he's under stress"

"Did something happen?"

"We ran into Finn and the taunted both of us a little. I guess that was it" she replied. "And yes, it can happen that he will be occupied for a couple of hours. It happened when I was at the Academy once. Because usually he tells me that he wants to meditate that day before I leave so I can just stay in the library and do homework that I don’t disturb him. But one day he just didn't write me that he was done… finally I fell asleep in the library and woke up way past midnight and by then the Academy doors were locked and I had to sleep on the floor of a classroom. In the end, Spock told me that he was worried about me when I didn't return and after that day he didn't meditate that long anymore or said that I could just come home when I wanted" her mother nodded

"Alright then" they both sat down on the couch and Carissa took out her private PADD, seeing that Nicole had tried to contact her. She wrote her a message, saying that she couldn't talk to her now because she had stuff to do. In reality, she just couldn't talk to her in peace. Unless she went outside, which she would do anyway before her father returned. If Spock was finished before, she still could go to her room to talk to her friend.

-

Next Chapter

[smithereensbymaisie]

There was once a demon named Émond

A brief warning: This is an entirely fictional piece that is based on a dream of mine, but it does mention child trafficking and child labour, so please proceed with care. Your well-being is the most important. This is also written in the heat of the moment, so the subjects that this touches on may be poorly-researched or misinformed. If that’s the case, please kindly let me know. It’s uncertain whether this will have a follow-up, and although I will try my best, there’s no promises. Lastly, English is not my first language. With all that said, I hope you enjoy this weird dream of mine.

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

There was once a demon boy. Well, not exactly “boy”, since demons’ age, sex, and gender just did not work that way, but he liked being a young boy, so why not? Wayward was the word that he deeply identified with, and it did not help that he also disapproved of certain rules and values of the demon world. After too many times refusing to perform his duty of being an “upright and devoting member of the community”, The Council of Demonic Society put limitations on his magic before casting him to earth as a punishment. The demon would not be able to return until he successfully tempted seven kings into wrongdoings.

He had no intention whatsoever to complete the task.

On earth, still in the form of a young boy, he decided to simply live on the street and went by the name Émond. His magic, though limited, was still more than enough to suffice, so his new life mainly consisted of magicking whatever food and drink he needed if he was feeling lazy, and stealing if he was feeling particularly bored or adventurous. He could no longer make money out of thin air, though, so that was a shame. He then decided that he would feel adventurous most of the time, which was terrible news for shop owners in the area.

That way of living lasted for about as long as the lifespan of a dragonfly. Wandering the land of the living without any permanent shelters, money or full power, Émond found himself being snatched from the street and sold to some kind of twisted organisation located in a desert faraway. All the manual labour was young boys who had to stay in tents. There were also adult supervisors who lived in brick houses nearby. The children were chained together at the wrists in groups of seven when they worked and forced to dress in uniforms at all times, which consisted of too big a shirt and a pair of baggy trousers that looked like they had been vomited out by an entity that solely produced eye-achingly bright red-colored clothes. There were about five groups of seven red-clothed children. Usually, they had to work in the desert under the sun, digging sand for wood, animal or human bones, and if they were in luck, scattering pieces of jewellery; in general, anything that was not sand and could potentially be sold for money. On special occasions, the boys were given the job to act like “feral cheerleaders” in a spectator sport taking place on a dune near where they put up their tents. The so-called sport apparently included gruesome murders performed by men on horses. They were told to scream, clap and jump manically whenever someone was killed or badly injured to “set the atmosphere”, metal chains clinking and air thick with the pungent smell of fresh blood.

Naturally, Émond did not get on well at first. He was made fun of by adults and children from other groups, as well as having to endure snickers from his own for his rather chubby body and long mop of curly hair, although he did not give a monkey’s about that. He liked this body. What truly annoyed Émond was the fact that he was expected to take commands from these ridiculous, violent, crude supervisors, whom he ignored out of spite most of the time, and just as often, they got furious and took that anger out on the children in his group. Whenever that happened, the demon would use the little power he was allowed to his advantage. He created a strong and urgent urge to fall asleep and planted it inside the minds of red-faced supervisors. Being in the thrall of demonic magic, they had to crawl back into their bed and slumber for the next hour; he then wiped their memory of his unruly behaviour, which oftentimes resulted in a dopey and silly facial expression when they finally woke up from the unnatural sleep.

Very quickly, other boys in the group started to pick up on the pattern and confronted the demon on one late afternoon.

“How did you do that?”, one child named Asher asked him when they had finished the work for the day. The supervisors had taken off their chains and retired to their brick shelters. Their tent had been put up properly for the freezing forthcoming night, and sunbaked wood and dry grass had been provided for each tent for fire.

“Do what?”

“Stop the adults from hitting us, obviously”, another small child, Neil, he recalled, turned to him, squinting his hazel eyes.

The demon soon found himself the object of curious and suspicious gazes from six little humans. Well, he thought to himself, they are going to stay with me for quite some time anyway, I may as well get on with it.

He told them everything, from the fact that he was not as human as it seemed and there was an entire world full of his kind to the event of his punishment and his life before being taken here. Émond also told them that his magic abilities had certain limits, and that yes, he could make the supervisors forget about his scornful attitudes and behaviour, but no, he could not do the same for memories concerning other people, the boys included. As that was the case, the demon could not wipe away the existence of six children from the minds of several supervisors and help them escape. Also, they were in the middle of a desert, it was not a very good idea to venture out without sufficient resources, knowledge of their current location or a map for direction. Émond had expected the boys to get terrified, accuse him of lying, or laugh in his face and consider him insane, but that assumption was quickly proved wrong. Apparently, the demon had not been very subtle with his magic, and as it was, he found himself surrounded by six fearless, inquisitive little creatures.

“Do you have horns?”, a boy named Alex, twelve years old with wide brown eyes and short hair of indiscernible color, asked him. “I heard that demons have horns.”

“Well, I can have horns if I wish to,'' came his answer, “but those things are just terribly inconvenient, are they not?”

“You can change how you look? That’s wicked awesome!”, exclaimed another child, Alfie, who was sitting cross legged next to Alex. The other children just looked at Émond with even more wonder evident on their faces.

“I wholeheartedly agree with you, child.”

“Wait, so are you really a boy, then? And how old are you, exactly?”, asked a fifteen-year-old named Victor, which made him the oldest of the six.

“No, I’m not really a boy, I’m a demon. We don’t normally categorize our kind into boys and girls, or anything like that, really. There are certain types that run The Council, but that place is full of stiff demons that know no fun, so let's not count that. Most of us just exist or don't. And it’s rude to ask people of their age.” Then, after a beat of silence: “Also, I don’t remember. It’s been a while since I last checked a calendar.”

“What about magic? Can you do magic now? I want to see it!”

The children looked at him excitedly. Happy to entertain, and also starting to feel a bit cold, Émond magicked a burning fire next to their tent. It crackled cheerfully and smelt sweeter than any scents the children had ever smelt before.

The last remnant of sunlight was starting to fade on the horizon. The group of seven shifted closer to the fire, basking themselves in the warmth, hoping that the biting cold of the desert night would not seep into their bones.

“Do demons have parents?”

That question took the demon by surprise. He contemplated for a while before settling on an answer: “You know what, I’m not sure. The first memory I have is waking up alone on the floor of a dimly-lit room with only one door. The knowledge of my power and who I was just…magicked itself there, I suppose. I then opened the door and found an entire world of demons on the other side.”

“Oh”

“Right, it did get a little overwhelming.”

“I have a mother,” said Little Henri, aged eight, after a while, “She’s still waiting for me to come back, I’m sure. I just hope she doesn't cry so much anymore.”

And so, the conversation turned to the life stories of each child. Henri was the youngest in the group. He loved visiting the park with his mother when she came home from work. The ducks in the park’s pond, in his opinion, had been the most interesting citizens he had ever encountered, aside from his mother, of course, and a source of endless entertainment. Alex and Alfie were of the same age. They were orphans and had lived together on the same street before being kidnapped. The A-Duo, or TAD for short, was how they had called themselves back in the glorious olden days of mischief. Mind you, they were still TAD and still full of shenanigans, but artfulness was now their main focus to avoid the beating from supervisors, whom they called “visors” because “really, it’s impossible there is anything super about them”. Émond found it funny. Neil and Asher were brothers, aged ten and fourteen respectively. While Neil was an energetic little boy and was often found conversing amicably with The A-Duo, Asher was rather reserved and quiet. They had lived in a loving family, although both knew that “sufficient” could hardly be used to describe their home. Neil had been snatched from a vacant playground on a humid summer afternoon. Asher had witnessed the incident and rushed to his little brother without thinking, which had resulted in him being rendered unconscious with a bat in the head. They had both been dragged away from view in an instant. Asher had woken up with a mild concussion to find Neil hugging him tightly, sleeping, cheeks still streaked with tears. The pair had travelled with a dealer for about a week before being sold to this place. The oldest among the children was Victor, who sported a perpetual grim face. He was reluctant to talk about his family, but the little information he provided was telling enough: he had been sold by the hand of his own kin. The pain of that memory seemed to etch on his brow, cling to the downward corners of his mouth and the dimmed color blue of his eyes. Sensing the unease, Asher steered the conversation away from Victor, asking Alex and Alfie about their latest mischief.

“Well, since you insist,” said Alfie before the duo plunged into every detail concerning The Sandy Bums Operation with obvious pride. Victor looked at Asher gratefully.

By the end of the conversation, Henri and Neil had been fast asleep. Alex and Alfie were struggling to keep their eyes open and failing spectacularly. Victor ushered the two inside the tent, meeting with little protest, and followed them with Henri in his arms, while Asher gently scoped up his little brother. For a moment, the gentle crackling of the fire was the only sound that dared to disrupt the quiet night.

“Why haven't you escaped on your own?” A hushed voice broke the silence. Asher seated himself beside Émond, hazel eyes fixed on his profile. “You know, you have magic and all that, and I reckon you also have better endurance than us humans. So why?”

Chuckling lightly, the demon turned to look at him: “Why do you ask? Do you want to get rid of me that much?”

“Not really,” Asher shrugged, letting out a sigh, “just curious.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. The flickering fire threw long shapeless shadows on the ground, unfailingly scented the surrounding air with its enticing aroma.

“It doesn't sit right with me, whatever that may mean coming from a demon,” Émond said after a while, still resolutely staring at the fire. “Leaving the children here when I walk free and wreak havoc to the world, knowing that I might have been able to aid their escape in some way, doesn't sound very fair, does it? It's bad for business, anyway, that not everyone is given the same chance to do evil.”

A smile grazed Asher’s lips. It was a small, fleeting thing, but in this harsh and unforgiving place, it was more precious than gold. “You know, I think I get why those stiff demons rejected you. You are terrible at being a demon.”

“Wow, thanks so much for that”, said Émond, feigning outrage.

“You would make a pretty decent lad, though, if you were a human being”, Asher carried on, unfazed.

That threw the demon into a lapse of silence. He looked in bewilderment at the child beside him, dirty face and matted blond hair. Then, softly, as if he feared the image of that boy might shatter before his eyes: “But I'm not, aren't I?”

“No, you aren't,” the boy gently shook his head, “but I choose to see you as such anyway.”

They sat in silence for some time before pulling the sweet air into his lungs, Asher patted Émond on the shoulders and stood up, stretching and yawning: “I don’t know about you, but I’m knackered. Going inside now. You coming?”

“The night sky is too beautiful”, Émond replied simply.

“Alright. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

There was a soft rustle of fabric, and then, once again, Émond found himself embraced by the chilly stillness of the desert night. The sky was indeed beautiful. He might as well admire the stars while he could.

[bgn846]

FFXV Fanfic - A Walk in The Park

Twenty more points and he’d have it, the overall high score for the week.  Drowning out the shouts of the nearby crowds Noct focused on winning this round.  His goal, though he’d not admit it to Prompto, was to win him a gift.  Not that the high score on this game earned many tickets, but it was just enough for something silly at the arcade prize counter.  

Prompto’s shouts of glee at his eventual success helped drive away his nervousness. They’d been best friends for over a year but it still didn’t stop Noct from worrying that Prompto might just disappear one day.  Maybe he’d get sick of all the bureaucratic bull that came with being his friend. The background checks and the constant assumption he was there to just mooch off of Noct. Thankfully his friend ignored all those issues and continued to be by his side.  They had so much fun together and Noct was loath to admit what his life would be like without Prompto.  

Noct knew exactly which thing he was going to ask for when they got to the counter.  He’d been purposefully trying to win a series of five little chocobo keychains for his friend.  Surprisingly Prompto hadn’t noticed the pattern.  He had four of these little fluffy things hanging off his school bag and this one would be the last in the set.   It’d taken him nearly three months to pull this off but Prompto was worth the wait.

The look of pure happiness on his friends face when he handed over the black feathery trinket made Noct grin. The little chocobo was quickly fastened in place along with the rest of the set.  The shout of another winner nearby made them both laugh as they skirted around the throngs of people and left the arcade.

The afternoon was pleasant when they got out on the street.  The weather was mild and the sun was out. It was times like this that made Noct wish things would never change.  He knew nothing lasted forever, but it still didn’t stop him hoping.   Glancing over at the little collection of chocobos bouncing around on Prompto’s bag Noct smiled.  His mission had been successful.

“Hey did you name them yet?” Noct asked with an amused air.  He knew Prompto had probably named them all while they were still behind glass at the arcade.

“Of course dude!  That was an easy one cause of the colors.”

Noct was confused as to what the colors of the chocobos had to do with anything but he played along.  “Oh really, and what are they?”

“The brown one is Gladio, the sandy colored one is Ignis, I’m the yellow one, and you’re the blue one.”  Prompto finished as they walked down the street.

“What about the black one?” Noct inquired with a puzzled look. “He doesn’t fit.”

“Sure he does, his name is Chris.”

The look he sported must have been enough to convey his confusion since Prompto spoke up again before he could ask.

“He’s special so he’s like the crystal, or like ya know Crys for short but it sounds like Chris.”

“Oh emm gee, you’re such a dork!” Noct laughed, “Seriously you’d be the only one to think of something like that.”

“Come on it’s cool!” Prompto whined.    

“If you say so buddy.” Noct had to move out of the way fast when Prompto tried to hip check him in retaliation.  Laughing instead he jogged ahead to get away from his friend.  Prompto took the challenge on with gusto and a race soon started.  They didn’t stop running until they’d stumbled into a park and got distracted by a swing set.

“Hey I bet you I can swing farther than you!” Prompto enthused as he ditched his bag on the grass and ran over to the swing.

“How old are you anyway?” Noct asked as he caught his breath.  “I’m not doing that.”  His resolved cracked the second Prompto hollered that he was going to win.  Noct wasn’t going to lose even if the game was dumb.

After about five minutes of intense swinging Prompto flung himself off the seat and landed with a thud a good ten feet away.  Okay Noct could best that distance no problem.   Taking the time while Prompto was gathering his bearings Noct quickly took off his right shoe.  He was going to go much farther than ten feet.

He couldn’t wait any longer to dismount; he was holding his shoe and Prompto would notice what he was up to.  Hurling his footwear as hard as he could when he reached the height of his swing he warped after it a second later.  Prompto’s cry of cheating rang out as he reappeared thirty feet away.  “I win!” He announced with a grin.

“You cheated!!” Prompto squealed as he broke out in a run towards him.

Turning to evade capture Noct realized his mistake.  He was still only wearing one shoe. Hobbling around trying to shove his shoe back on didn’t work out so well.  Prompto caught up in no time and roughly tackled him to the ground.  His friend chose to sit on him and pinch his face as payback.  His stupid shoe was back on and he couldn’t even use it to warp away!

Finally shoving Prompto away they both sat on the grass and giggled.  Noct was going to miss times like these when they graduated.  He’d have to do more to help his dad when he was done with school.  Hopefully they’d both have time to still hang out and have fun.

Without thinking Noct blurted out the question he’d been pondering for months.  “What are you planning on doing after we graduate?”

“Ah – I dunno buddy, I want to be useful but --.”

Noct stared at him waiting for the rest of the answer but it never came. “Are you going to go to school for photography?”

“I wish, but I can’t afford it. Maybe if I work for a few years then I can go back for that, but I don’t think so.”

“Why not? You’re really good and a few years off wouldn’t change much.”

“I sorta had a different idea in my head that I might try, but I’m not sure yet.”

Sitting up Noct shoved Prompto in the shoulder. “Come on tell me!  I wanna know what your plans are.”

Again his friend clamed up and looked nervous.  After a few minutes Prompto finally admitted what was on his mind.  “I was debating about joining the crownsguard so I could still hang out with you.”

This admission caught Noct off guard.  Prompto would go through the hell of training just to be with him? Since when?  Then his friends words came crashing back, he’d said he wanted to be useful.  “Wait, what kind of things do you want to do in the guard?”

“Uh – I want to help people and protect you from the bad guys.  I want to be remembered for doing something good.”

“Dude, I’ll never forget you!  You don’t have to join the guard just for that.”    

“I know but I still want to help.”

Noct knew Prompto was extremely selfless but it still warmed his heart to hear his friend talk this way.  Visions of him giving out humanitarian aid and helping little old ladies cross the street flittered through his mind.   Unable to stifle a laugh at the image he smiled at Prompto.   “You’re gonna do great buddy, I know it.”

“I hope so, it’s all a little scary actually.”

“Nah, I mean the instructors can be intimidating but otherwise it’s all good.  I can put in a good word for you if you want.” Noct offered kindly.

“Actually I already have Gladio and Ignis helping me.” Prompto sheepishly added.

Noct had to work hard to tramp down on the pang of jealousy he felt at not being included.  He knew Prompto probably had his reasons for not telling him sooner but it still hurt just a little.

“Sorry for not letting you know, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise.”

“What do you mean a surprise? For who?”

“For you dummy!” Prompto yelped, “I wanted you to be proud of me for doing this on my own, well mostly.”

Any irritation at having not been included in Prompto’s plan melted away.   “I’m impressed! No worries! Are you sure you really want this though?”

“Yeah, trust me, this feels right.” Prompto enthused. “Gladio even offered to help train me and Ignis said he’d help me fill out the application.”        

Smiling Noct reached out and placed a hand on Prompto’s knee.  “Sure sounds like you have this all figured out.  “I’m excited, I’m gonna ask that you be part of my personal guard once you pass your training.”

His friend was positively beaming at the mention of passing.  Noct knew it would work out, Prompto was a hard worker and when he put his mind to something he made it happen.  “Hey so we should get back to the apartment.” Noct added quickly.  “If I don’t make an attempt to clean up all this dirt off my uniform before Ignis gets back, he is going to wonder what the heck we were up to today.”

“Oh will he now?” Prompto pondered, “So that means I could enlighten him on your cheating ways huh?”    

“That’s not fair!  I can’t help it if I have magic at my disposal.”

“I don’t think Ignis would agree with that buddy.”

The subsequent walk home was filled with lots of trash talking and several attempts at dirtying his uniform.  It was impossible to get mad though, since each try was accompanied by Prompto’s infectious giggle.  Needless to say they were both a total mess when they arrived back home at his apartment.

Noct wasn’t spared Ignis’ wrath as his advisor was in fact already there.  He too was sucked under Prompto’s spell once they’d ditched their shoes and coats.  Not five minutes later and Noct could hear Prompto telling Ignis about their adventure in the park.

Hoping to cause a distraction Noct decided tell Ignis about the keychain with his moniker.  “Hey so Prompto has a little chocobo attached to his bag and he named it after you.”

This effectively stopped Prompto before he was about to tell Ignis that he cheated.  However, it didn’t exactly go as planned after that either.  His friend ran to grab his bag and proudly showed off his new collection of keychains to Ignis.

The minute Ignis asked where he’d gotten them Noct knew he was screwed.   Prompto launched into a new story featuring all his efforts at winning the little trinkets.  Guess Prompto had been paying attention after all.  Sighing in defeat he plopped down at the table and helped his best friend tell the story.  Ignis didn’t seem very mad any more about his dirty uniform and kept looking at him with a kind expression.

The afternoon had been a blast and after dinner they all worked on Prompto’s guard application.  Life was changing but for once Noct wasn’t so scared of it, he would have his best friend by his side no matter what!  

[sieben9]

“the savior” impressions

{Quick request to anyone reading: I’m watching OUaT for the first time, and I want to avoid spoilers. So, if you want to discuss something spoilery, I’d be grateful if you could start a new post for that. Thank you!}

OK, in one sentence: This episode was just all over the place.

There were good bits. There were intriguing bits. There were “eh” bits, and there were certainly bad bits, and they were all mashed up together in one big, weird pile.

speaking of which…

I’ll try and put some of this into words under the cut.

So, let’s start with the “Hmm, fascinating” stuff.

First of all:

I see we’re still doing the “two minutes of contextless new people” format of starting a season. ::nods sagely:: Interesting choice, yes. Though watching this while also finishing up Wonderland is going to be… fun. (Is this another Robin situation or is it just not the same Jafar? …look, weirder things have happened. I thought I’d ask.)

And, secondly, Emma’s weird future visions.

Now, currently, I see about… three possibilities. 1) It’s an actual vision of the future, and Emma will have to find a way to prevent it. Predictable (pun fully intended), but possibly interesting if executed well. 2) Someone sent her a fake future vision to manipulate her on a certain path. Not an unreasonable assumption, considering Hyde’s cryptic comments and the fact that these visions seem to be working to his advantage at the moment. 3) Emma has actual hallucinations as a result of severe trauma. Which I would find interesting, but I’m also not sure how much I trust this show to handle the topic, so… not exactly rooting for that one. Option 2 is my personal favourite at the moment, and I shall sit here and quietly hope. …semi-quietly, at least. I’m telling you, after all.

It would also tie into something else that baffled and slightly upset me during this episode. Namely, this:

do i even WANT to know what you’re wearing there, buddy?

Morpheus, who’s also Belle’s and Rumple’s child, somehow? And who is dreaming along with his mother and has opinions on their relationship? I quietly headcanon that he’s actually a version of himself from the future, and connected to his (much) younger self through this dream, but that’s so not in the text that I think I pulled a mental muscle going through the required hoops.

Basically, the cell-lump speaks fluent English and also is going to be the god of dreams. Or not. I am very confused.

But if we’re going with the “someone sends people false (or misleading) visions in order to manipulate them” theory from Emma’s death-dreams, this could be part of something much bigger and more sinister, and I’m always up for big and sinister.

Anyways, the dream sequence was amazing until it wasn’t.

pictured: sieben’s cause of death

I really, really loved the moment where Rumple decided not to let the cup fall. Because, yes, that might have been how they fell in love the first time, but this shows that he doesn’t need to recreate that moment. Them falling for each other wasn’t a fluke, it wasn’t a one-time-miracle. They’re kindred spirits and hearts, and they would always have found a way to be together. ::sigh:: Let me enjoy my happy shipper feels for a moment.

By the way: look who was ready to let his curse be broken so he could wake Belle up, no ambiguity about it whatsoever?

Yup, this guy. (Also “for you I would be the best man I can”? Guuuh. My heart...)

And then it all fell apart. I’m not even talking about Belle’s “I won’t make a home with you”. That’s… painful, but the sort of thing you can talk about once everyone is safe in the real world. (Also not entirely unfounded, since they were still working through their problems before Belle decided on her extreme nap). But everything she said before “Morpheus” revealed himself? That she’d rather she and her child stay in that burning room of pain forever, rather than… I don’t even know. Be back in the world and talk to Rumple? How is this a good thing for your baby, Belle? How is never being born and living out eternity in torment any better than “being in Rumple’s debt”? (Also, where did he imply that there was a debt owed? He did exactly what you wanted — destroying Hades’s claim on your child — and then went to your dad to wake you up. And when he refused, Rumple still found a way to wake you. There was never a word of debts between you. Not once. This is just … ::annoyed gesturing:: Why.)

OK, alright, OK. Like I said earlier, I’m pacing myself. There’s another ten episodes to go with this, after all.

Squarely in the “eh” department (to me, at least): the people from the Land of Untold Stories

I’m still interested in the concept (people who didn’t want their stories to play out? Do tell!), but the way it was handled in this episode was. Well, see above re: “eh”.

Also:

Swan Queen magic!

::ahem::

Hyde was pretty neat, overall. Especially his scene with Emma in the Hospital Basement of Forgotten Villains. Good, strong “Silence of the Lambs” vibe going on there. And, like I said, I am very interested in the kind of game he’s playing and what is up with Emma’s tremors. (They seem to be both connected to the vision and a source of trouble all by themselves, sooo… not sure what to think of them, yet.)

Oh, and speaking of good scenes with Emma:

fairy godmother of coffee and good advice

I missed you, buddy. Though I’m sure there are better ways to tell someone “you need to deal with your problems rather than suppress them” than to call psychiatric drugs “shortcuts”. Just a thought.

Anyway, good to see him show up like that. I’m a little sad that Emma’s parents “sent” Archie rather than having a proper talk with Emma themselves, but… well, sometimes family is too close to the problem, I guess.

And to be fair, Snow was busy having good character moments elsewhere.

and nobody is trying to kill anyone. how time flies…

I will admit, I’m not entirely thrilled that we’re still on the “good thing I lopped off that part of myself and then crushed her heart” train, but then again, it looks like that will be addressed, so I’m not complaining too loudly. Overall, this was an incredibly sweet scene, and Regina going “I was a terrible stepmother… no, really, please don’t try and be nice about it” was oddly touching. I mean, it’s clear that these two have made peace long since, but this ability to calmly discuss the damage done is still a new facet to their relationship. I like it!

And then there’s this:

I don’t care that she’s chewing scenery like it’s popcorn, I look forward to having her around so damn much, I can’t even describe it. Dear Queen, you currently have the “delightfully camp villain” spotlight almost completely to yourself, and I expect you to make the most of it!

Which also brings me to another bit I just... didn’t like. Everything to do with Zelena in this episode. From her weird sulking about Regina throwing her in prison that one time (because it’s not like there was any clear and pressing reason for that, right, Zelena?) to her equating Regina’s decision to destroy the Evil Queen with her (indirectly) getting Robin killed, all their interactions felt uncomfortable and decidedly forced. I get why, but I’m not invested enough in this relationship to give it the benefit of the doubt.

Alright, to close this post out, I want to draw attention to this episode’s biggest mystery:

So, if “Morpheus” is supposed to be Belle’s and Rumple’s son… where did those extra 60 centimetres come from? He is a gigantic man next to these two tinypeople. How did the two hobbits manage to birth a weird ent-elf together? (Yes, I know, decent nutrition before and during your growth spurts can do wonders, but let me have my silly little joke, alright?)

Maybe somewhat mean-spirited, but heartfelt addendum: the true hero of this episode was that airship-earthquake in the first minute of Storybrooke-time, because it saved me from having to watch another second of the Most Awkward makeout-session.

Thank you, weird airship, I am forever in your debt.

[marshmarrowsans]

Summer Skeleton Snuggle and Surf!

Whoop whoop it’s past midnight here and you know what that means!!! Hey @miss-me-chispy, it’s your summer secret santa!  You requested self-insert cuddling with UF Papyrus and after writing all 30 monstersummermash prompts I was in a really summery mood, so I decided they’d be cuddling on the beach.  Then I was really enjoying writing the story, and the surfing thing came to mind, and I thought it’d be super cute, so I just added it in.  Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!  I tried to make it really cute and fluffy! -Mod Kasha

Typically, there are two types of people when it comes to visiting the beach: people who go in the water, and people who don’t.  Before this trip to California, you would’ve made an educated guess that Edge would be the former and Red would be the latter. That assumption was flipped on its head when you actually got there: maybe it was because Edge had you to cuddle with and Red had a human surfing instructor to go make goo goo eyes at.  Maybe it was because Red gave little enough of a shit to put on swim trunks, whereas your boyfriend was still dressed like he walked straight out of a Hot Topic buy four get three free sale.  But whatever the reason, it ended up that Edge stayed on the sand with his arms around you, and Red went splashing around in the shallows with a rental surfboard.  You were sitting together on a beach towel in the shade, with him behind you, and you practically in his lap.  He was hugging you from behind and, of course, still tall enough to see over your head. “He’s going to hurt himself,” you mused, holding on to one of the strong, boney arms Edge had wrapped around your waist. “Should we go save him?” “FROM WHAT?  DROWNING?” Ah.  It was easy to forget little things like the fact that skeleton monsters did not have the physiological need to breathe. “No.  From embarrassment.” Edge wrapped his arms around you a little tighter, and you felt him nuzzle his nasal cavity against the top of your head. “I’M HAPPY HERE IN THE SUN WITH YOU.” It wasn’t often you got to hear him say that he was happy, however tangentially and despite the fact that he said it around you more than he did around anyone else. “HOWEVER…  IF YOU ARE TRYING TO SAY THAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO PLAY IN THE WATER.  AND TAKE ME WITH YOU, SINCE I AM YOUR DATEMATE AND EVERYTHING IS BETTER WITH MY COMPANY.  THEN ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ASK!” You tilted your head back to look him in the eyes.  “But you didn’t bring swim trunks.” “THIS CLOTHING WILL SUFFICE.  IT IS BUILT TO WITHSTAND ALL SORTS OF PERILS!” he told you proudly, even though you knew full well that it had plenty of normal wear-and-tear.  “I DON’T THINK THAT WATER IS ITS LIMIT.” “What about sand?  I’m warning you.  No matter what you’re wearing, no matter how secure you think your pants are, if you let the waves out there batter you around enough, you will get sand right up in your asscrack.” “I DON’T HAVE ONE.” “You will get sand right up in your pelvis.” “THAT’S ALRIGHT.  IT’S ALREADY THERE.”  He shifted uncomfortably and pulled a strange expression, earning a laugh from you.  “I WOULD HAVE GOTTEN UP AND TRIED TO SHAKE IT OUT BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO LET GO OF YOU. AND BESIDES.  THAT IS NOT A FLATTERING THING TO DO IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND.” “Oh, I don’t care.”  You gave him a little nudge on his arm with the back of your hand.  “I think we’re deep enough in love to be past the point of trying to act perfect around each other all the time.  Don’t you?” Oh, the L-word always hit him right in the soul.  No matter how often it was spoken between you at this point, no matter how normal it was for the two of you to say it in reference to each other nowadays, it still always made him falter and realize all over again how…  happy he was.  He turned his face away from you a little, but not before you could catch his sharp teeth stretching into a bigger, more genuine smile, and the light blush flooding to his cheeks. “BUT WE ARE PERFECT.  I WOULD ACCEPT NO LESS, EITHER FOR MYSELF OR FOR YOU!” His meaning was clear—he didn’t mean ‘perfect’ in a pure sense, but ‘perfect’ in that you were perfect for each other and to each other.  He recognized your imperfections, and maybe even his own, but they were a part of the two of you and your love for each other, so it was a part of something that was overall, in his eyes, perfect. “…  IN ANY CASE.  DID YOU WANT TO GO OUT AND PLAY IN THE WATER?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Well, did you?”  You’d gotten pretty good at reading between the lines, given how often Edge was a tsundere about everything down to what he wanted to have for dinner.  And one of his favorite tactics was acting like you were the one who wanted something, in order to justify asking for it.  He especially liked to do that when it was something he was afraid or otherwise unwilling to try alone. Maybe he wanted to try surfing with you. Red disappeared under the water with a splash so dramatic you both turned to look, and had to be pulled up by the arm by the surfing instructor.  You felt each warm puff of breath as Edge chuckled against the side of your head. “MAYBE WE SHOULD AT LEAST SHOW MY BROTHER HOW IT’S DONE.” “We’re beginners, too.  That’ll probably be us in a few minutes.” “NO WAY.  WE WILL CONQUER THIS OCEAN LIKE ANY FOE!” All you could imagine was him trying to fight the water lapping at the shore. “DON’T LAUGH AT ME, CHISPY, MY DEAR.  WE CAN CONQUER ANYTHING TOGETHER!”  In one swift move, he both got to his feet and lifted you to your feet along with him.  He lifted you from under your arms, briefly leaving your feet dangling over the ground, before he set you back down steady on your own two feet.  “THAT IS WHY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!” No matter how long it took him to recover from hearing that you loved him, he always remembered to tell you that he loved you back. The two of you jogged hand-in-hand out to the water’s edge, where the surfing instructor was just taking Red’s surfboard back from him.  You just caught the tail end of their conversation. “You’ll get the hang of it if you keep trying.” She was using her customer service voice.  “Like I said, you can come back for lessons during the week all summer.  We’ve got some great instructors here for that. Twenty dollars a session.” “oof.  thanks for the sales pitch, doll.  i’m gonna go drink until i forget how much my ass hurts.” “AHEM!” Edge stepped forward. “BROTHER!  ALLOW CHISPY AND ME TO SHOW YOU HOW IT IS DONE!  PLEASE.  SIT ON THE SAND AND OBSERVE.” The surfing instructor turned her attention to you, seeming to realize that you wanted a turn.  “Oh, have you two been surfing before?  We’re doing free surfboard rentals and basics but, like, if you’ve surfed a lot before, you can totally just use one of our surfboards for awhile without me giving you the rundown.”  She was probably a local.  She sounded like a Cali girl if you’d ever heard one. “NO!  BUT WE WILL SHOW HIM HOW TO BE GOOD BEGINNERS AT IT!” Edge asserted confidently. “whatever ya say, boss.” Well, the pressure was on now.  Red was sitting in the sand a few feet away with a grin that was just challenging you to fulfill Edge’s promise of an outstanding performance.  You would try your best, but you were already anticipating screwing up hilariously. At least the three of you could all laugh about it if that happened. “Alriiight, so the first thing we’re gonna do here is figure out if you surf regular foot or goofy foot.” “I AM NOT GOOFY AND NEITHER ARE MY FEET!” Edge interjected.  “REGULAR!” “Let her explain, sweetie,” you reminded him with a gentle touch on his arm. “…  Right, so, regular foot means you feel more comfortable riding the board with your left foot forward.  Like this.” She demonstrated, holding out her arms as if for balance even as the surfboard she was using was planted firmly on the sand for the demonstration.  “And goofy foot means you feel more comfortable with your right foot forward, instead.  Like this.” She switched feet, holding the same position for a moment before dropping her arms to her sides.  “That’s all.  Go ahead and try it on your boards.  See what feels more natural for you.  That’ll be the stance you use from now on.” You were glad to start out with some nice and easy setup.  You didn’t feel quite ready to go out on the water yet.  You tried each stance, a few times, before deciding that the ‘regular’ stance felt right to you. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, took a lot longer.  He furrowed his brow, staring down at his feet as he switched back and forth between the positions.  You were sure that if he was actually undecided about which felt more natural, he would’ve just picked regular.  So that must mean… You cracked a big smile.  “…  You’re a goofy-foot, aren’t you, honey?” “I AM NOT!” “Are too.” “WELL!  I PREFER TO STAND THIS WAY!  BUT IT’S CERTIANLY NOT GOOFY!”  He turned to the instructor.  “THIS STANCE! IT NEEDS A NEW NAME!  WHAT ABOUT…  COOL FOOT?” “…  Okay. Well, whichever foot you have in front right now, that’s the foot you’re gonna use when you pop up on the board out in the water.  Popping up is what we’re gonna practice next, mkay?  And it’s probably going to be what takes the most getting used to.  It can take some practice to hold your balance right. So what you’re gonna do, is you’re gonna lie on your stomach on your surfboard and paddle out.  Paddle for awhile.  Paddle around ‘till you find a good place to try and catch a wave.” Again, she demonstrated for you, mimicking swimming movements above the sand.  “And when you think you see a good wave to catch, you’re gonna put your hands on the board like you’re doing a push-up.  Legs stretched out behind you.  And then, real fast and smooth, push yourself up and plant your feet in the proper position.  Front foot facing forward, back foot pointing to the side. Don’t end up on your knees on the board, you’ll probably fall over.  Let’s practice popping up on land!” It felt silly and kind of embarrassing to do that, with all the strangers around, not to mention Red staring teasingly at the two of you.  But it was certainly something that took a bit of practice.  You kept finding your feet planted just slightly wrong, or it took you a bit longer than you would’ve liked to get to your feet from your position lying prone on your stomach.  Still, you were better off than Edge.  He might’ve been a bit too tall for the rental surfboard, despite being given the longest one they had in stock.  He ended up, quite a few times, with one of his feet or the other on the sand instead of on the board. But eventually, you both felt like you got the hang of it.  It helped him to look to you for a better (and prettier!) example. “Looking pretty good, guys!”  The instructor clapped her hands together, particles of sand flying out like dust in the air.  “Are we all ready to go out on the water?” Edge looked to you.  Was he… nervous about this?  You couldn’t blame him if he was.  He’d only popped up correctly a couple of times, and it had been inconsistent. “…  WE’RE GOING TOGETHER, RIGHT?” “Well, we can’t all ride the same wave, but we’ll all paddle out together, I’ll go first, and then you two can try and follow me, okay?” “…  VERY WELL.  STAY CLOSE, CHISPY.” God, he made it sound like some kind of suicide mission. The three of you paddled out into the water together, the surfing instructor taking the lead.  You weren’t far behind her, but Edge started to lag behind the two of you—his skeletal hands weren’t as good at paddling through the water as your fleshy ones were—so you slowed down to match his speed. The instructor had to shout back at the two of you for you to hear her over the distance and the roaring of the waves. “We’ve got a good one coming in! Now watch me!” A sizeable wave approached, and she demonstrated the proper technique with the practiced grace of somebody who had likely been doing it since childhood.  She hopped off her surfboard on the beach and stood proudly there to watch you, surfboard pulled upright at her side and tucked under her arm.  Red looked impressed. One or the both of you were so going to fall on your face trying to replicate that. And you decided that if one of you was going to have to fall on your face first, it would be you. “I’ll take the next one,” you volunteered bravely.  You ran through it all in your head—push-up position, pop up, left foot forward, knees off the board… “YES!  SO BRAVE!  GO FOR IT! I BELIEVE IN YOU!” Damn.  This next big wave coming in looked even more daunting than the first, but maybe that was because you were looking at it with the knowledge that you were going to try to surf on it. You had that last-minute second of doubt, just as the wave was upon you, like you suddenly didn’t know what the hell you were doing.  You pushed up, felt yourself wobble, and were sure you were going to tip right over… but you remembered your footing, steadied yourself, and the next thing you knew, you were gliding through the water on your surfboard! Honestly, you felt like a baby deer taking its first few steps in the world, knees locked in place, terrified you were still going to fall.  But all three of your onlookers were cheering you on with utmost enthusiasm, all the way until you made it to the shore and stumbled on to the sand. “Beautiful form!  Great work!” the instructor praised you.  “Now let’s see how your…  Boyfriend…?” “Boyfriend,” you confirmed breathlessly. Looking out at the water, you couldn’t miss him.  He stuck out like a sore thumb in the best way possible. “Let’s see how your boyfriend does.” Looking at him now, you could already kind of tell things weren’t going to go great.  He kept paddling out to catch a wave, then changing his mind and just letting the water rush past him.  He even started to get into a push-up position, then changed his mind and flopped back down on to his stomach instead of surfing the wave. He needed encouragement, just like he gave you. “You can do it, babe!” you called out to him, hands cupped around your mouth in hope it would help carry your voice to him. “I believe in you!” “I KNOW!  JUST WATCH!” That gave him just the confidence boost he needed.  Maybe too much of a confidence boost.  He decided to try and ride the first wave he saw. And he tried to get to his feet very quickly. And one of his feet stepped right off the side of the board, sending him splashing clumsily into the water. Red burst out laughing like it was the funniest damn thing he’d ever seen.  You caught the surfing instructor covering her mouth and letting out a little peal of giggles, too. You were the one who splashed out into the water to go check on him.  He was a tough guy, and you had no doubt he’d turn up alright.  You were mostly just going out there to take care of his hurt ego, not anticipating any sort of physical injury. Of course, skeletons sank like a rock, too. So you waded out waist-deep in the water and still didn’t see him, even as the wave that tipped him washed over you. You didn’t see him.  But the water threw him straight into you and sent both of you tumbling back up on to the beach.  When the water receded again, it left the two of you there, you on your back and him clinging to you with his arms around your waist. Slowly, with water still leaking out of several different crevices in his skull, he looked up at you. “…  CLEARLY I DID THAT ON PURPOSE.” “Clearly~” you teased him. “I DID!  THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED.  I…  WANTED TO SEE YOU GET YOUR HAIR WET!”  His expression softened for a moment, as did his voice.  “…  YOU LOOK LIKE A MERMAID WITH YOUR HAIR WET.”  He tucked some of it behind your ear. It really hadn’t been necessary to tell the instructor he was your boyfriend.  She could tell right now. Speaking of which, you didn’t want to get too heavy on the PDA.  So you gave Edge a kiss of acknowledgement, then helped him to his feet. “Don’t worry about it.  Most people wipe out on their first try,” the instructor reassured him with an easy-going laugh.  “You can keep trying.  Orrr come to one of our lessons during the week.” That sounded like fun.  You felt like you could improve—like maybe you just got lucky on your first try.  You would’ve been happy to sign up on the spot. It was too bad your flight back home was on Sunday. *          *          * “You’re extending the trip?” You stood behind Edge, watching him curiously as he revised the calendar he’d brought along.  The arrow marked ‘VACATION’ that had initially ended on Sunday was now hastily extended to the following Friday. “YES.  ONLY FOR A FEW DAYS, THOUGH.  I DON’T WANT SANS GETTING TOO COMFORTABLE.  HE MIGHT NEVER LEAVE.” You could guess what this was about.  The beach trip was still fresh in your mind, and apparently, it was still fresh in his mind, too.  You wrapped your arms around him from behind. “…  Did you want to go back and try those surfing lessons?” you asked gently. “…  IT MAY BE…  FUN…  TO ACTUALLY SURF PROPERLY LIKE I KNOW I CAN.” “I’ll go with you.” “GOOD.  I ALREADY SIGNED US UP.  JUST THE TWO OF US.”  He turned around and hugged you back. It never got any less sweet, seeing how far Edge would go just to try and look cool in front of you and impress you. You could never quite find the words to tell him that you loved him just as much even when he wasn’t trying.

[centeris2]

Rebecca decides to make Scott her new friend project. Scott doesn't know how to handle friends.

“You know, I can help with the bridge. Or get you some help,” Rebecca startled Scott Buttergood when she spoke behind him.

“I don’t need help. What would you know about building a bridge anyway?” Scott snapped. He was not in the mood, another setback and sabotage by CHILL had made Junior and his father more irritable than normal, and with Robert hiding somewhere in a field Scott was the one who got the brunt of the anger.

“Well I repaired the bridge connecting the Harvest Counties and Silverglade. I also worked on the bridge connecting New Hillcrest to South Hoof,” Rebecca informed him, leaning forward in the saddle while Midnightwarrior sniffed the ground.

“Right. Anything else? Saved the world?” Scott asked sarcastically, put off when Rebecca laughed darkly.

“That’s a work in progress,” she said with a smirk.

“So, if it’s not the bridge, what do you need help with?” she continued when he said nothing.

“What?”

“My someone needs help senses were tingling,” she joked, “so I thought I’d drop by.”

“What are you going to do, build the bridge for me?” Scott rolled his eyes.

“Yeah sure,” she smiled.

“What?”

“What? I asked if you needed help, and if you need me to build the bridge-”

“Why would you do that?” Scott asked suspiciously.

“Because you need help? Duh?” Rebecca shrugged.

“But why would you help?” Scott asked again, bewildered by her intentions.

“Because I like helping people. What is so strange about that?” Rebecca asked with a grin. She knew what was strange about it, no one helped the Buttergoods if they could avoid it, as the Buttergoods never did any favors for anyone.

“I can build my own damn bridge!” he snapped, feeling insulted.

“Alright, do you need any materials? Reports written?”

“No I don’t need any of that!” Scott shouted this time before he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down so his face was hidden by his wide brim hat.

“Having trouble with the bridge?” she asked politely. She knew they had been having trouble, but she had not been responsible for it.

“What does it matter to you?” he grumbled.

“Well considering I would like to use this bridge without risking a jump to my death, helping you with the bridge helps me.”

“So that’s why you want to help so bad,” he sighed, finally understanding. At least until she shook her head.

“Nah, I just know you’re used to hearing selfish reasons and accepting those. This bridge would help a lot more than just me, and you’d be able to spend your time on things you actually enjoy.”

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” Scott groaned.

“The rock around The Great Thunder is too unstable, it crumbles and gives way. It’d be better to put the anchors for the bridge beyond the rock so you have a secure connection. Suspension cables may be a good way to support the structure, since you won’t be able to put any supports underneath into The Great Thunder.”

Scott stared at her for a moment before he took off his hat and fanned his face. Standing around in the summer sun got very hot.

“Alright, Miss Rebecca, what do you want?” Scott asked, not commenting on her suggestions. They were good though, he should get some cables and figure out anchor points further from the edge.

“Damn, I was hoping to get you to smile. You look like you need one,” Rebecca pouted.

“What?”

“You question me a lot, am I really that strange?” Rebecca teased.

“Absolutely,” he said without second thought. She was very strange.

“I hope that means I’m not boring at least, now then, do you want to get out of here?”

“What? Err, what do you mean?” he elaborated, now self conscious. Why was he saying what so many times? He sounded like an idiot! He wasn’t an idiot!

“You and I both know you won’t be getting any work done on this bridge, so why not hop up and run away with me for a bit? At least to get you away from your family.”

Scott didn’t know what he was doing. But he found himself behind Rebecca on her Jorvik Warmblood, cantering away from Butter Hill.

“So where do you want to go? Country? City? Little town?” Rebecca asked, not sure where to go.

“As far away from there as possible,” Scott muttered, glancing back at the Buttergood mansion on the hill.

“I think that would be Jorvik City then,” Rebecca decided out loud, pushing Midnightwarrior faster, the three of them thundering through New Hillcrest and across South Hoof. Scott looked around in awe, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been to South Hoof, or anywhere outside The Harvest Counties. It seemed so silly, it was all just a few miles away, yet he was kept up in that tiny little pocket of Buttergood land.

“Is this what it’s like?” he muttered as they crossed the bay to Fort Pinta on the ferry.

“Hmm?”

“To be able to run free?” he was glad he was sitting behind her so she couldn’t see his blush.

“You don’t get out much, do you?” she asked instead of answering him.

“And go where? Aside from the stables and a few shops there isn’t really anywhere to go in Harvest Counties.”

“And I’m guessing Junior keeps you busy,” she assumed, Midnightwarrior carrying them off the ferry.

“Yup. Junior always needs something. Or Daddy,” he said the word bitterly.

“Am… am I going to get you into trouble?” she asked, worried now. She had heard very nasty things about Junior and Valdemar Buttergood, she hoped they wouldn’t punish Scott.

“They’ll have to notice I’m gone, which they probably won’t. And what are they going to do? Make me sleep in the tool shed? I do that already, it’s not bad with a few sleeping bags on the ground for cushion,” Scott wondered why it was so easy to talk to her. Was this how it was with people who weren’t his family? He was so used to dealing with his blood and the GED tramping around their property. It was strange talking to someone who wasn’t sneering at him like he was worthless.

“Well I’ll try to get you home before they notice,” Rebecca said in an upbeat voice, freezing a bit when Scott grumbled.

“It’s not home,” he corrected her. He felt her tense up at his harsh tone and he felt a wriggle of guilt in his stomach.

“Sorry, you didn’t- you don’t know,” he apologized and she relaxed.

“You’re right, I don’t. I can’t imagine what your family life is like. I’m sure you and Robert are the only two that have a positive relationship anymore, or maybe I’m just making assumptions,” she added in case she was wrong.

“Not really, he and I don’t really talk much. He’s always sneaking off to Crescent Moon Village or New Hillcrest, he seems happy though, like he has friends,” Scott said a bit sadly. Somehow Robert had managed to escape the scorn and disgust of the nearby farms and towns, everyone there seemed to love him. But Scott? They glared at him, whispering snide comments, he was just another no good Buttergood to them, just the same as Junior and Father.

“Isn’t that the bus?” he realized they had cantered beyond the bus stop, leaving Fort Pinta behind.

“I thought we’d go all the way to Mistfall and catch the bus there. More nature and open air,” Rebecca informed him.

“Ah okay. Aren’t you hot in those gloves?” he asked, looking over her shoulder at her gloves and long sleeves completely covering her arms.

“Nope!” she answered with a smile, “what, you have a hand fetish and want to see my hands?”

“What? No!” he stammered, wondering why she would ask such a thing. But she laughed at his response.

“So what do you do? In your spare time I mean. You can’t spend every waking moment doing Junior’s bidding,” Rebecca asked to change the topic.

“Internet and books, mostly,” he admitted, embarrassed.

“What kind of books?”

“Legends, mythology, cryptozoology, that sort of stuff.”

“Oh! Fun! I’m a sucker for Greek myth myself, but I’d love to learn more about Jorvik’s legends. Aideen is particularly fascinating,” Rebecca said with a funny grin.

“Yeah, Jorvik has some weird stuff, experts can’t really figure out where some of the legends around here come from, they don’t seem related to Norse or Celtic mythology. Or Greco-Roman.”

“Oh?” Rebecca asked, curious and still grinning.

“One theory is Aideen is a mix of Etain and Minerva, some sort of virgin horse goddess. But there is evidence of Aideen existing in ancient Jorvik tradition before the Romans or the Vikings, or even the Celts. Jorvik is also one of the few places where a cult has remained into modern times. Most pagan religions essentially were wiped out by Christianity, but Aideen always maintained a cult here, even getting written into the major religions by the people who live here,” Scott feared this was getting too weird, but Rebecca was listening eagerly, looking back at him. Somehow Midnightwarrior knew where to go.

“What do you mean? Worked into the major religions how?” Rebecca asked.

“Identifying Aideen as various angels or saints or whatever, that sort of thing,” Scott shrugged.

“Interesting… how do vampires and werewolves fit in?” Scott didn’t answer immediately, looking at the forest around him. It was so green and quiet and the plants were so big. And there were so many animals, he couldn’t believe the underlying chatter of birds and rodents.

“Huh?” he asked, realizing she had spoken.

“Vampires and werewolves? Are they like witches and magic where they exist?”

“Well of course! Why wouldn’t they?” Scott declared, bewildered by her doubt.

“There are plenty of weird things around Jorvik, I wouldn’t be surprised if I ran into a werewolf one of these days.”

“You should be worried about vampires more than werewolves,” Scott pointed out, surprised when she smirked back at him.

“I’m not so worried about you,” she teased.

“I’m not a vampire!” he protested.

“You are rather pale and keep covered, and you have a very defined facial structure,” she continued to tease.

“You think I’m a vampire?” he asked, now curious.

“Not really, but you would definitely make a good classical Dracula for Halloween or a costume party! Now then, we are here!” Rebecca declared, Midnightwarrior coming to a halt. The pair dismounted and Rebecca gave the horse a pat.

“Have a good day!” she bid her horse and he walked up a ridge to watch and graze.

“You’re just going to leave him?”

“Yeah he’ll be fine,” Rebecca said with a wave of her hand, “if something happens he’ll let me know.”

“What does that mean?” Scott asked but did not get an answer as Rebecca grinned at him. A bus approached and she got on before he could press her for details.

“Oh, where do you want to go in the city?” Rebecca asked, realizing she didn’t have a destination in mind.

“I don’t really care,” he admitted.

“Aideen’s Plaza might have some fun book shops. Governor’s Fall probably does as well. I haven’t seen a bookstore open in the mall yet, although they do sell books at The Purple Pony, if you’re into comics and novels.”

“Hey, you kidnapped me, you pick,” he pointed out, fighting back a smile.

“Oh. Oh dear. I didn’t plan for this responsibility,” Rebecca admitted, biting a finger as she thought.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“Umm, Aideen’s Plaza is quieter, and I wouldn’t mind looking around bookshops if you don’t.”

“You kidnapped me, you pick,” it was getting harder for him to fight a smile as he teased her and she got flustered, not wanting to bore him.

“Well you said you like books, so, bookstore?” she offered, still not deciding for herself.

“Your pick,” he said again.

“Aideen’s Plaza,” she finally decided, clearly still worried about boring him.

“Ah. So that’s why it’s called Aideen’s Plaza,” he muttered when he saw the big statue in the middle.

“Yup! Now I have no idea where a bookstore is so start looking!” she declared.

“I’m just going to follow you,” he let her know, hiding a smirk when she pouted.

“Making me do all the work,” she muttered in mock annoyance and pretended to stomp off, Scott trailing behind her.

“There’s the inn, the dance studio, the shop vendors, the flower shop, the cafe,” Rebecca muttered, ticking off the locations she knew in her head as she made her way toward the fountain.

“Now, if I was a bookshop, I’d be in one of the creepy back alleys,” she decided out loud, making Scott snort.

“Sounds like a great idea.”

“Ehh, this place is nothing compared to Pier 13. The worst that’ll happen is a pigeon or fox might try to steal food from your pockets,” Rebecca warned him, picked an alley, and headed off to explore.

It took a bit of alley exploring but they did, in fact, find a small tucked away second hand bookshop. It was like all second hand bookshops should be: dusty, cramped, and felt like home.

“‘Keeping Aideen’,” Rebecca picked up a book and read the title, studying it for a moment before she opened it and read a bit while Scott looked through the piles. There were all sorts of books, fiction and nonfiction, new and old.

“Ah, that’ll get you in trouble with the Keepers,” the bookkeeper told Rebecca with a grin. Scott blinked, bewildered. He could have sworn the old man tending the shop had pink eyes for a moment.

“Oh? It’s anti Keepers?” Rebecca asked, her interested piqued.

“Aye, heh, it’s anti trappers alright,” the bookkeeper agreed with a smirk, “give me something nice and I’ll let you take it,” he offered.

“Hmm,” Rebecca reached into her bag and dug around.

“Do you have any empty bottles? Or cups?” she asked, pulling out a purple flask. The bookkeeper’s eyes widened and he nodded, digging around for one.

“Noach Cranepoulos! Are you trying to barter instead of getting money for books again!?” an angry voice came from the back before an elderly woman appeared from behind a curtain of beads.

“Sanna!” the bookkeeper, Noach, whined, an empty cup in hand.

Scott stayed silent and had no idea what was going on. Did Rebecca carry booze with her and use it to barter?

Sanna glared at the bookkeeper and looked at Rebecca, purple flask still in hand. The old woman’s expression changed from fury to shock, pale eyes darting between the flask and Rebecca’s face.

“Oh,” she whispered, “I have a clean jar in the back.”

And with that the old woman disappeared, sounds of clanging and drawers opening from behind the beads.

“What sort of moonshine do you have?” Scott whispered to Rebecca, and she just smiled at him and handed the flask to the old man behind the counter. Sanna appeared once more, and Noach poured clear liquid into the clean bottle presented to him. Scott didn’t smell anything, and the liquid was clear. It looked like water. Half a flask of water was worth an old book?

“Let us know if there is anything else, any resources, and we’ll be happy to find it for you!” Sanna promised, eyeing the clear liquid with a gleeful grin, as Noach handed back the flask and Rebecca closed it once more.

“I’m sure I’ll be back for more, now if you don’t mind we’ll keep looking around!” Rebecca said with a pleasant smile, nudging Scott to resume browsing.

Scott busied himself looking at books, finding many old and tattered books on legends and myths of Jorvik, but he realized he didn’t have any cash on him.

“I can cover,” Rebecca muttered to him when he opened his wallet and found no cash inside.

“Oh no, that’s fine!” he hissed, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry young man! She more than paid for a dozen books!” Noach from the counter called, causing Rebecca to return to the counter and put her backpack on the dusty wood.

“I’m glad I found you guys, I had no idea you were here!” she told Noach, digging into her backpack once more.

“I am glad you found us as well, it is an honor, and if you need anything-” Noach promised, his voice stopping as Rebecca began pulling out crystals.

“Sanna!” Noach called, the woman coming back out and gasping loudly.

Scott looked over, seeing blue and pink crystals in Rebecca’s hands. What the heck?

“I think you two may have use for these, consider it an open tab,” Rebecca offered. Honestly Rebecca had never met them before, but she knew Sanna and Noach recognized her. They had magic, they knew magic when they saw it. And Rebecca knew finding teachers and trade partners would be beneficial.

“Oh!” Rebecca remembered while the old couple remained silent in shock, “my friend, Scott, he is interested in myth, legends, creatures, that sort of thing. I’m sure he’d appreciate something on werewolves or vampires, if you have anything specific.”

Scott found himself offered obscure books he had never heard of hidden in cobwebs and corners of the shop. “The King’s Vampire”, “100 Years of Blood”, “The Day of the All Flesh”, “Son of Moon”, “Vultures and Wolves”, the pile got taller and he felt overwhelmed.

“Where did you get all these books?” Scott managed to ask in slightly afraid awe. His fear grew with the wide smiles of Noach and Sanna.

“You are a believer, aren’t you?” Sanna asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Well, yes, of course werewolves and vampires and all that are real-”

“You’ll enjoy this!” Noach dropped another book on the growing pile in Scott’s arms.

Rebecca, meanwhile, stood to the side and giggled.

By the time Scott managed to get out of the shop he had over a dozen books, but thanks to Rebecca they would be mailed to Rebecca’s stable. Not Rebecca’s place, her stable. Where did Rebecca live?

“So, want to find another bookstore?” Rebecca asked with a grin, Scott going pale.

“No. No. I don’t know how you found that one but I’m bookstored out for the day, thank you,” Scott reassured her.

“Well do you want to go back yet?”

Scott grimaced at the idea. The bookstore may have been overwhelming, but it was still early in the day and he did not want to return to Butter Hill yet. Or ever, for that matter. But at least not yet.

“Would you prefer something a little more modern?” Rebecca teased.

“A little less dust would be nice,” Scott admitted, fighting back a cough.

“Alright, let’s go to Governor’s Fall!” Rebecca declared, leading him to the trolley.

“What was in that flask?” he asked as they traveled.

“Oh the purple one? Dew collected from flowers around Valedale.”

“I’m sorry- what.”

“It’s quite valuable to some people,” Rebecca informed him with a smile, amused by his bewilderment.

“But, it’s dew, how-?”

“Ah! We’re here already! Do you want ice cream?” Rebecca cut him off, smirking at him. Scott was intrigued by her grin, there was something very strange about her. Using water and crystals to buy books weren’t normal things.

“Only if I get some answers,” Scott pouted, following her off the trolley.

“I’ll answer what I can, which isn’t much,” she warned. He grumbled but accepted it, and grumbled more when she covered their ice cream.

“So, I think I know what you are going to ask,” Rebecca started as they sat in the sunshine outside, “I’m very interested in Aideen and magic, I find them to be fascinating topics and would love to learn more. So I try to be friendly and offer valuable magic items to people who I think will be able to teach me more. That’s why I carry around dew from flowers and crystals from Dino Valley.”

“Are you a witch?” Scott whispered, happy she was explaining but desperate to know more.

“That, I don’t know. I’m more aligned with the Keepers, and they don’t look fondly at witches, but I don’t know the difference between a woman who does magic and a witch. So, maybe?” Rebecca said with a shrug and got a scoop of her ice cream.

“The Keepers,” Scott muttered.

“Yes, they are quite active as a cult, and very interested in magic, or things with magical properties at least,” Rebecca explained.

“Are you a druid?”

Rebecca’s expression turned sour and she ate another bite of ice cream before she answered.

“My position with them is… complicated. I don’t think I’ll ever be one, I ask too many questions, and I’m not good at following orders,” Rebecca said bitterly. “That’s why I’m going elsewhere to learn.”

“Do you know any magical creatures?” Scott asked eagerly. It was something he wanted to know and Rebecca clearly didn’t like talking about the druids.

“Unfortunately no, not that I know of,” Rebecca said, smiling once more.

“So, like, can you do magic?” Scott scooted his seat closer, his voice getting lower.

“Kinda? Not really? But yeah? It’s nothing I’d want to do in public though, and I don’t really have control of it. I don’t think the druids want me doing my magic at all, not until they know they can control me.”

“Don’t you mean know that you can control it?”

“No.”

Scott glanced down and took a bite of ice cream, not sure what to say to that abrupt answer. The druids were clearly a bad subject for her.

“Why are you still wearing gloves? We’re not on a horse anymore,” Scott tried to joke and change the subject, and instead he was bewildered when she went pale, looking at her covered hands.

“I prefer to keep them on,” she muttered and swallowed, hiding her hands under her legs.

Scott stared at her, studying her, trying to reconcile everything he knew about her.

“Who are you?” he said when he couldn’t figure her out.

“Huh?” she tilted her head to the side, confused.

“You are just… everywhere. You’re normal then you’re magic then you’re smiling then you’re bitter and then friendly and then cold just… what… who are you? How do you do it?” Scott asked.

“I…” Rebecca winced and rubbed the back of her neck, looking away, “there has been a lot going on in my life. So I apologize for acting erratic, I’m just trying to stay positive and happy so I don’t break, you know?”

“You make it sound like you’re trying to stop the apocalypse,” Scott muttered, startled when she laughed too hard.

“Yeah, that’d suck wouldn’t it? Move to a new country across an ocean from home, try to get into a college after flunking out of the last one, be completely alone and not know a single person, and then try to save the world. That’d be some shit,” Rebecca kept laughing, so hard she started to tear up.

Scott had no idea what she was going through, but he had a feeling she was being completely literal. The druids, her hands, saving the world, they were all sore spots that made her hurt. Now he couldn’t tell if she was crying from laughing or laughing to cover up her tears.

“Do you like clubs?” Scott asked suddenly, desperate to distract her before she dissolved into tears.

“Like, riding clubs?” Rebecca asked, hiccuping and rubbing her face.

“I mean like nightclubs. Or bars or something?”

“Uh, yeah. Not that big a fan of alcohol unless like, I know I can get to a safe place to sleep. I prefer drinking at home so I can just crawl into bed. Why?” Rebecca asked, confused.

“Well, we’re in a city, I don’t want to go back home yet, there is bound to be some good nightlife around to keep us entertained.”

“Is this a date? Or as friends?” Rebecca asked, skeptical. Scott didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of having friends.

“I… wait! You brought me out here! I should be asking you!” Scott realized and Rebecca grinned.

“Are we friends yet?” she smirked at him.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You know what the word friend means, right?” Rebecca asked, confused now.

“Well, yeah, but… I don’t? I don’t know what it feels like to have a friend,” Scott admitted.

“It feels, umm, warm. And safe. It’s someone you can trust, someone who you are happy to be around,” Rebecca tried to explain.

“Huh,” Scott thought for a moment, “that seems like a terrible thing.”

“Oh? Oh. Being vulnerable and trusting, that’s not something you really grew up with, is it?”

“Trust can be taken advantage of, weakness will be used against you,” Scott explained what he had learned from his father.

“Fear is the best way to ensure obedience,” Rebecca commented.

“Sounds like you know it too,” Scott muttered.

“I understand it. Understanding how people work, think, philosophies and codes they operate by, they are important things to know, sad though they may be.”

“You sound like you’d make a good politician or something,” Scott tried to joke.

“Heh, that’d be a nightmare. My life is already a mess I can’t imagine trying to manage policy and government,” Rebecca smiled again.

“Well, it’s okay if you don’t consider me a friend, so long as I was able to help you by getting you away from your family for a bit,” Rebecca continued and resumed eating her ice cream.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” Scott informed her.

“Alright, we’ll party the night away,” Rebecca grinned and ate the last bit of her ice cream, watching him while he finished his bowl.

“First I’m going to want to leave stuff in the mall lockers,” Rebecca asked. Carrying a backpack around was not the best idea when clubbing.

“They have lockers?”

“Yup! Free to use, though you have to bring your own lock. It’s great for when you don’t want to carry your purchases all over the city!”

They headed to the mall and sure enough, the lockers were there just as she had said. She shoved a couple items into her pockets and then locked her backpack safely away.

“Won’t the mall be closed by the time we finish at the nightclubs?” he pointed out.

“Meh, I know how to get in,” she reassured him. Knowing the security guards and the janitors had its perks.

“Now! To figure out where the nightclubs are…” Rebecca clapped her hands and looked around, as if there would be directions conveniently placed on the walls.

“So, do you like Western riding or do you just like the cowboy aesthetic?” Rebecca asked as they wandered the streets, looking for nightclubs.

“Heh, both, though there isn’t much western riding to do in southern Jorvik,” Scott complained.

“I know a few people who set up courses, there aren’t many but at least it is a start,” Rebecca offered.

“Oh really? I would appreciate it, where are they?”

“Josh in Moorland has a simple pole course set up a pole bending course. Marley set up a barrel race at his farm in Silverglade. There is a traveling western course for Morgans, but I have no idea how often those show up. Oh, and there is a zombie themed pole bending race in the mountains between Valedale and Firgrove.”

“Zombies.”

“Yes, there are lighting effects and smoke and fake blood and everything,” Rebecca explained, amused by his confusion.

“I guess three, um, kinda, races are better than nothing,” Scott muttered.

“I guess Western is more of an American thing, which makes sense,” Rebecca shrugged.

“Yeah, have you ever done it?” Scott asked.

“Well I learned on a quarter horse using western tack, but I never got above a trot. I never competed in any events until I got to Jorvik. But it always looked fun. All horse riding looks fun,” Rebecca said dreamily.

“I guess I know why you came to Jorvik,” he teased, nudging her.

“Is that a smile I see?”

“No!” he sneered and looked away.

“Aww, I was hopeful. At any rate yeah, I came to Jorvik to attend the Hippological Institute, so definitely here for the horses,” she smiled.

“Earlier, you said something about, uh, not doing well in college, was that hypothetical or…?” he didn’t want to pry into sensitive subjects, but he was curious. She definitely didn’t seem to be the common 17 or 18 year old who came to Jorvik for the horses.

“Yeah, that… that’s kind of what happened. I didn’t flunk out, but I did withdraw before I could. I just… I got sick. In my brain I mean, very depressed and anxious and just not good. It took me years to recover and function again.”

“College isn’t for everyone,” he tried to offer some solace.

“Yeah, and I just felt like I was drifting there. I tried to pick a degree and I couldn’t settle. I wanted to learn, but most things I wanted to learn I didn’t want to make a career out of, or the careers I could have made out of it were unappealing to me. I tried a science degree, an English degree, and finally settled on a Classics degree. But it seemed like my options were become a Latin teacher or go on to grad school and go into law. I realized just because I loved learning a topic didn’t mean I could, or would make a career from it. But with my mental health falling apart and my grades plummeting, I just… withdrew from school and, honestly, everything else.”

“It seems like you’re in a better place now, since you are going to try school again, and you’re here,” he tried to be supportive.

“I’m absolutely terrified of going back to school. I tried going back to school, I tried getting jobs, full time or part time, I couldn’t keep up with anything. And then I got this dumb idea to move to an entirely different country to try to attend school? My parents thought I was nuts when I told them I applied to the program here, and we were all surprised when I got accepted. Heh, listen to me rambling about my problems! I’m not very good at giving you a fun distraction from your life,” she apologized and blushed, self conscious of how much she was talking about personal history.

“I don’t mind, it’s nice to hear someone else’s problems for once. Not that I enjoy hearing about your problems, not that I mind! It’s just a shame you have them!” Scott tried to explain without sounding like an asshole, making her laugh.

“It’s a bit refreshing thinking about my problems, actually, I’ve been so swamped with everything since I got here that I’ve barely been able to think. It is oddly comforting thinking about how small and personal my problems are compared to other peoples. Like yeah, my brain is broken, but that is a personal problem that I can deal with, it won’t kill me.”

“Do you at least feel better now that you’re here? Or do you still feel like you’re drifting?”

“I’m still terrified and anxious, but I’m supposed to be here. That’s comforting.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s hard to explain, a guess the easiest way to put it is magic. When I first met Midnightwarrior, I just… I felt like I had come home after a long time away. I don’t know how school will go, I don’t know how I’m going to afford a place to live or how I’ll stay in Jorvik, I just know it’ll be okay as long as I’m here with Midnightwarrior.”

“You really love your horse,” Scott noted.

“Yes, I love him like he is my own soul,” she said with a funny smile, and again Scott got the impression that she was being literal but he didn’t know how.

“So are we just going to keep walking past this nightclub?” Scott asked, trying his hardest not to smirk. For some reason he didn’t want to smile, it felt like he would lose a challenge somehow.

“I’m ready to go in if you are!” she chirped and the pair got in line, showed their IDs, and got into the pounding music and flashing lights.

Talking was difficult due to the noise, which lead to a great deal of shouting. Rebecca got herself water that she drained in one go, shouting that she wasn’t dumb enough to leave a drink to dance, while Scott got himself a proper alcoholic drink.

“A what!?” she shouted with a laugh, not sure she heard the name right.

“Adios Motherfucker!” he shouted back and pointed to the bartender making it. Rebecca looked and her jaw dropped when she saw the mix of drinks going into the glass.

“You’re gonna be gone!” she yelled with a laugh.

“It is named well!” he laughed, quickly covering his mouth to hide his smile. She smirked but said nothing. He scowled at her and took the drink from the bar, taking a sip. Yup, he was going to be fucked up if he drank this too fast, or had too many.

“Hey,” she shouted, grabbing his sleeve and pulling on it to get his attention, “how are you when you drink?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like are you an angry drunk, do you get nasty, sleepy, giggly? That sort of thing? I want to know what I’m dealing with if I’m responsible for getting you back safe,” she explained, clearly worried.

“This’ll be the only one, I promise,” he didn’t know why he said that. When he had a chance he would drink quite a bit. But she was right, he wasn’t getting himself home, she would have to deal with him. She had enough to deal with, he didn’t want to add his drunk ass to the list.

“Okay! Awesome!” she looked visibly relieved and gave him a double thumbs up.

“Do you want me to wait for you while you finish your drink? It’d be spilled on the dance floor,” she asked and he waved for her to go, giving her a thumbs up while he turned on his bar stool and watched her, sipping his drink slowly. They should have eaten real food before doing this, the alcohol was going to hit him hard. He was just going to have to go very slowly and chow down on bar food. But he didn’t want to leave Rebecca alone on the dance floor long, he was already losing her in the crowd and saw a guy get off his seat and follow Rebecca into the dancing horde.

Rebecca, meanwhile, had found a group of women to dance with. She couldn’t make out their names in the shouting and dancing, their slurred speech didn’t help either, but they pulled her into their circle, grinding and laughing. She glanced back at Scott and waved at him, giving him a thumbs up so he knew she was doing okay. He returned the gesture, glad she had found a group to be with.

Scott forced himself to drink slowly, and managed to only drink a third of his glass before Rebecca fled the crowd to get another drink of water.

“I’m in the wrong clothes for this!” she shouted with a laugh, long jeans and long sleeves did not mix well with a packed dance floor.

“You should have another glass!” Scott suggested after she drank the new cup from the bartender. She nodded and motioned for another water.

“Are you having fun at least?” she asked, worried.

“Yeah, been ages since I’ve had good booze,” he said, catching his smile before it could appear. No. No smiling. He was not going to smile for her. It was a challenge he would win.

“At least you are getting something out of today!” she pointed out, happy that he was having a good time, “I guess I’m not so bad, even if I’m not your friend!” she teased.

“I never said you were bad!” he pouted and she stuck out her tongue at him and nudged him with her elbow.

“Oh! I love this song!” she shouted and dove back into the throng of dancers. Without her there to see he let himself smile. This was all so new and foreign to him, spending time with someone and actually enjoying it. He liked it, but he had a bad feeling it wouldn’t last. Good feelings never lasted, not for Buttergoods. His smile soured at that, turning into a scowl and he took a drink.

“Hey!” shouting and nudging got Scott’s attention and he looked up at a man he didn’t know.

“That chick you were talking to, you her boyfriend?” the man shouted.

“What? No!” Scott said before realizing that was the man who had followed Rebecca into the crowd before. But the man had left as soon as he got the answer he wanted.

“Aw fuck, he better not fuck with her,” Scott muttered, trying to see Rebecca in the mix of bodies.

Fuck booze, he’d feel terrible if Rebecca had a bad night because of a creep.

Now how to find a short woman in a crowd...

Thankfully Rebecca was dancing with her hands up, the only arms with long sleeves and gloves on, and Scott grabbed her by the hand so he could get to her in the crowd.

His stomach dropped when he saw her expression of terror at being grabbed by an unfamiliar hand. When she realized it was him she relaxed and smiled, squeezing his hand, getting closer to him.

“Ready to dance?” she screamed, and he had to guess her words based on her lips. Oh no, he really liked looking at her lips. He nodded dumbly, suddenly not sure what to do at all. What did he do with his arms, or his legs, or the rest of him? Did he jump? Did he sway?

She grinned at the look of confusion on his face and grabbed his other hand, pulling him so that they were pressed together.

“Just move! I don’t know what I’m doing either!” she reassured him before she began bouncing and moving. She loosened her grip on his hands but he held fast. He didn’t want to be swept away from her, and the touch felt… nice? She returned the gesture and held firm to his hands, but he liked how it felt. It was secure, but he didn’t feel like he was being crushed.

Scott found himself mirroring her, bouncing and moving his hips and shoulders, trying his damnedest not to smile down at her as she beamed up at him.

A hand clapped down on Scott’s shoulder, making him look back and catch a glare of the man from before, at least until the man shoved Scott to the side.

“Excuse you!” Rebecca shouted, insulted by the stranger’s rudeness.

“Dibs!” was his response, along with grabbing Rebecca and grinding into her.

“Get off!” she shouted while Scott returned the favor and grabbed the man’s shoulder, pulling him away.

“She’s not interested!” Scott yelled, ducking out of the way when the man tried to punch him in the face.

Scott was totally down for a bar fight and squared up. That was the moment Scott Buttergood learned something very important: Rebecca fought dirty.

The man barely had time to realize Rebecca had grabbed him, his attention on Scott until her knee slammed up into his crotch. He yelped in pain, slumping forward. Rebecca pulled to the side, out of the way, and slammed her elbow into the man’s back, using all the weight she had to drop him to the floor.

“I said get off!” she shouted at the groaning man on the floor, the club goers around them staring in shock, some of them cheering.

“Well fuck,” Scott muttered, now feeling a bit silly that he was all ready for a fight, fists up and everything.

Rebecca cast him a look and shrug before beckoning him over.

“Sorry about that,” she said as though it were her fault, and they resumed dancing, Scott now a bit afraid of her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, wondering how she was so calm.

“Yeah, he didn’t hurt me,” she said with a shrug, “I guess you like holding hands,” she teased.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he glanced away, pretending he wasn’t holding her hands again.

“Do you know the phrase touch starved?” he shook her head at her question. Touch starved? He must of heard her wrong. She pulled her hands from his and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He was stiff, bewildered. Should he hug her back? How long was she going to hug him? Why did she hug him? Was she trying to seduce him? This seemed like a long game for seduction if she was just holding his hands and hugging.

She let him go and pulled away, and when the pressure of her body and arms left his gut kicked him into moving, and before he could process it he was hugging her. She held him again and just swayed gently, not saying anything as he tried to figure out what he was thinking. It was nice. Why was this nice? Physical contact was bad. It had been bad since his mother passed. It was weak, it was vulnerable, it was just… wrong. The only physical contact he should really have was when fucking someone. And even then, he didn’t want to feel vulnerable and exposed.

What was he doing? Why was he holding her close, resting his head on hers, smelling her hair, what was this?

Disgusting. That’s what his father would say. Disgusting and weak behavior. Physical contact had been about control for so long, was he surrendering to Rebecca by doing this?

He swallowed hard. There were too many people, too much noise, he couldn’t breath, there wasn’t enough air.

Rebecca was gone from his chest, his hand felt sweaty in hers. He stumbled after her, led by her hand. He managed to notice an abandoned glass at the bar and wondered if it was his. He didn’t reach for it, he didn’t think he’d be able to grab it. Rebecca was doing something, her hand was gone, where was she? Where did she go? Why did she let go? He could see her at the bar handing cash to the bartender. Paying. You had to pay. That’s right. They didn’t like when you didn’t pay your tab.

She had noticed Scott had gone pale and was breathing hard, shaking as he held her. He didn’t respond to her questions, he didn’t confirm that he was okay, so Rebecca got him out of there. Luckily he followed in a bit of a daze, blinking and looking around when he realized they were standing outside in the cool night air.

“Scott? Are you okay?” he realized she was talking to him and he looked down at her, thinking for a moment before nodding.

“I… weren’t we inside?” he blinked and shook his head, looking around. The nightclub was across the street. When had they crossed the street?

“Yeah you got weird, you stopped responding and you looked sick. Here,” she gave him a bottle of water, “I got it when I payed the tab.”

He didn’t realize how wonderful water tasted, but he managed to stop before he drank all of it.

“Thanks, I, uh, thanks,” he didn’t know what to say. Rebecca took him by the hand, he was more aware of it this time, and she led him down the street a bit and stopped them at a bench.

“Feeling better?” she asked when they were both sitting down. She picked his cowboy hat off and fanned his face.

“Thanks, and yeah. I don’t really know what happened,” he admitted, ashamed.

“Maybe you overheated? I know I was getting close,” she muttered and began to fan herself with his hat, “I just asked you about touch starved and you just sorta, stopped responding.”

“I don’t know what that is,” he confessed. It sounds a bit like a vampire thing, being starved and needing touch.

“Well basically humans are social beings, we need touch to stay healthy. If a human goes too long without positive touching it can affect their emotions and mental wellbeing. You start craving physical contact, hence, you’re touch starved,” she explained.

“So what, everyone should fuck once a day so we all stay happy?” he said with a bit of a scowl.

“No, positive touch isn’t always romantic. It can just be holding hands, hugging, brushing up against a friend or family member, just someone you are close to and comfortable with.”

“Heh, right. Why are we talking about this again?” he asked, getting a bit uncomfortable. He knew why they were talking about it, he just didn’t want to think about it.

“Well at first I was teasing that you are touch starved and that’s why you wanted to keep holding my hands.”

“At first?”

“Now I… I don’t mean to pry into sensitive subjects. I just wonder when you last had a hug. Or are hugs and physical displays of affection also weakness?”

“Of course they are! Affection is being vulnerable, and clouded judgement, and…” he stopped when she put his hat back on his head and she chuckled.

“So yes, you are very touch starved,” she said a bit teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. She nudged him with her shoulder and offered her hand for him to hold. He grumbled and rolled his eyes.

But he still took her hand.

“Does it count if there is fabric, or does it have to be skin on skin contact?” he asked, glancing down at her black gloved hands.

“Was that a weird way of suggesting sex?” Rebecca asked, eyebrow raised and amused.

“I. Uh. Well. No. Did you...? Gloves. I meant your gloves,” he stammered. This was so much in one day he didn’t know if he’d be able to function if it escalated to sex.

She sighed and looked at her gloved hands.

“I don’t like showing my hands because it brings up awkward questions,” she confessed, “questions I am not allowed to answer.”

“They’re just hands? What, do you have robot hands or something?” he asked, more confused than ever.

“Heh, that’d at least be cool, but no. No fancy prosthetics hands for me,” she complained before she took a deep breath and placed her free hand in her mouth, biting the fabric with her teeth and pulling her hand free from the glove.

For a moment he was silent, staring at the silver streaked hand. He couldn’t quite tell what he was looking at until she dropped her glove into her lap and offered her bare hand to him.

“It’s beauti…” the compliment stopped as he realized what the streaks were. He thought perhaps they were some sort of birthmark, only for horror and pain in his stomach to replace the awe with terror. They were scars. Thick, terrible scars that covered her hand and disappeared down her wrists under her sleeves.

“What-” he stopped himself. She said they brought up awkward questions, that was probably one of them.

“How far do they go?” he decided on asking instead, hoping that wasn’t prying. She pulled her hand from his, crossed her arms, and pulled off her long sleeved shirt. He was glad there as a tank top underneath, he didn’t know how he would react to her being topless. How would anyone react to that?

But his moment of panic was replaced when he saw that both arms had silvery scars racing down her forearms.

“Ahh, that cool air feels good,” Rebecca purred, happy to finally cool off. She pulled off the last remaining glove and plopped the clothes beside her on the bench.

“So yeah, I’d rather not have people coming up to me in public asking about my hands,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Can… may I touch them?” he didn’t know what to do, but he didn’t want to upset her.

“I did offer you my hand to look at,” she said with a smirk, flexing her hand and presenting it to him.

Earlier that night he had seen her drop a man larger than her to the ground in two moves, now she was shaking, twitching when he took her hand and felt the scars. He turned her hand over, inspecting it from all angles, trying to figure out what had happened. He traced the silver trails down her arm, stopping when she shuddered at the touch and her breath hitched.

“Looks like I’m not the only one hungry for touch,” he teased, and she shouted in victory. Shit. He had smiled.

“Yes!” she shouted, jumping up and fist bumping the air, “I got you to smile! I got you to smile! Doesn’t it feel great to smile?” She asked, hands on her hips and smirking at him, leaning toward him. He could lean up, it would be so easy to kiss her. But what if he only wanted to do that because of the touch starved thing?

“Aww, there it goes,” she sighed, “what got you so serious?” she asked, reaching out and touching his face where a smile had been moments before. Her skin was rough from work, split and calloused, even with the gloves on to protect them. Oh fuck, he mentally swore to himself. Did she know what she was doing to him?

“You okay?” she asked, withdrawing her hand when he shuddered and exhaled heavily.

“No,” he muttered, grabbing her hand and pulling it back to his face. What was he doing. He needed to stop. He needed to get a grip. This sort of physical contact… it was bad. Shameful. If he wanted sex from her he should shove her down and fuck her from behind, not this... sweetness! Fuck, he didn’t even know if he wanted to have sex with her, he just wanted her hands on him.

She knelt down and touched his face with her free hand. He grabbed and held fast to both, feeling her gentle pressure, the worked skin, against his jaw and cheeks. He turned his head slightly and brushed his lips against one of her wrists.

He needed to stop.

He pressed his lips against her wrist, kissing the scarred flesh, feeling her pounding pulse through his lips.

He needed to stop.

“May I touch you?” her voice was so soft, so tender, so gentle, so all the words that were everything he didn’t know. How could it be, in one day, everything was so different?

He needed to stop.

“Please,” he whimpered, surprised he could sound so needy, so desperate, but oh fuck. Maybe she had been right, maybe she had come to help him, he just didn’t realize what he needed.

She pulled her hands away from his face, her fingertips trailing down and unbuttoning his shirt. His heart pounded, had he always breathed this hard? He was anxious, and maybe even scared, of what she was going to do.

But fuck, the cool air felt amazing on his bare chest, and then there were her hands. She was so careful, barely touching him as she reached under the fabric and around his back.

His father could go to hell for ever making him afraid of a hug. Fuck being vulnerable or exposed or weak or whatever, it didn’t feel like that at all. It felt safe.

She hugged him, not from a very comfortable position on the ground, but Rebecca had a feeling she wouldn’t be holding it long. Scott’s breathing was hard, he was practically panting as he held her close.

“We should head back,” she whispered.

“I don’t want to go back there,” he confessed, voice hitching. He didn’t understand why he was tearing up, but he didn’t want to start crying or let her see.

“You can stay with me, if you don’t mind sleeping in a break room of my stable,” she offered.

“I’d…. please. I’d like that.”

He let her go so she could grab her long shirt and gloves. He didn’t touch her as she said hello to a security guard and waltzed into the mall for her backpack. He was practically shaking, but he didn’t touch her on the bus ride back.

He was distracted when they got off the bus, Midnightwarrior standing there waiting for them without tack. He didn’t ask how the horse had gotten its tack off and placed it in a neat pile. He stayed quiet as Rebecca tacked up Midnightwarrior and mounted. He tried to stay calm when she offered him a hand up.

He almost had a semblance of self control until he was sitting behind her on the Jorvik Warmblood and she leaned back against his chest and told him he could hold her. He gripped her, afraid he was squeezing her too tight, but it felt so good just to feel her against him. He loved how she felt against him, how her hair tickled his nose and lips, how she smelled. He tried to keep his hands stationary, he fought back the urge to feel more of her, but he wanted her to feel just as good, just as safe, as she was making him feel.

But if this was just her helping him… what if tonight was it? He swallowed hard, afraid to mention it.

He had to let her go when they reached her home stable, and he stood quietly, albeit fidgeting a bit, as she untacked Midnightwarrior and gave him fresh food and water. Scott wondered if she always had the stall doors open, horses wandering around.

“Food and water is in there, there is a sink in there, beware of the seals by the way they sleep in that area, bathroom is over there,” she pointed out important things he might have cared about if his mind wasn’t spinning in circles.

“Rebecca,” he bit his tongue. No he shouldn’t ruin this. He shouldn’t bring it up. It’d be okay if it was just tonight. If this was all he got he would be fine.

“Yes, Scott?” she asked.

“I-” don’t ask don’t ruin it, “I had a good time tonight.”

Saved it!

“So did I! Thanks for letting me kidnap you!” she said with a chuckle.

Okay, he just had to stay cool. Stay calm. Don’t-

“Is this a one time thing?” he blurted, wincing and mentally kicking himself as soon as he said it.

“Huh?”

“Today, tonight, I… ugh,” he groaned and rubbed his face, resuming his vaguely frustrated but pretending not to care pose he so often assumed.

“I was hoping we could do this again. Since, you know, friends hang out with each other, and I consider you a friend at the very least,” Rebecca spoke for him, blushing a bit.

“Friends?” he mumbled, unsure how to feel. He didn’t want to rush past friend right into something more, but he also wanted… he just wanted to touch her. To whatever extent she would let him.

“Or, you know, whatever, we’ll see what happens,” Rebecca added, blushing harder now and looking away.

“So, uh, over here is the tack room and also where I sleep,” Rebecca started up again, now a bit anxious, not quite sure where this was leading.

“So, um, I, uh, figured since you probably still want some, um, touching, we could just, you know, sleep next to each other in here,” she winced at the phrasing, knowing it was awkward.

“Feel free to use the shower stall to wash, I don’t think I have any spare clothes that will fit you,” she continued before it could get too awkward, ”I’m going to change out of, you know, these clothes.”

She didn’t want to use the word flee, but that is exactly what she did, running to her closet and grabbing pjs to sleep in before she changed in the privacy of the other tack room. Rebecca had to take a few deep breaths. This was not how she expected the day to end.

Scott was equally stumped, and found himself standing helplessly in the hallway outside the tack rooms. He took a deep breath and started pacing around. Should he take a shower? He didn’t have anything clean to change into. Should he grab food? He couldn’t stand the idea of food right now. He caught himself in a mirror in the rec room. He was a Buttergood, and a damn fine looking one at that, he reminded himself. He took a deep breath, straightening up. He had been a wreck all evening, and Rebecca had taken care of him, now it was time for him to be in charge and take care of her.

“Are y-” “AH!” “Sorry!” Rebecca apologized for startling Scott, and she fought back a snicker at his yelp, “were you going to take a shower?”

“No! No, I don’t have anything to change into after so, I figured, not much point,” he explained. Calm. Breath. Suave. “Unless you wanted to shower together,” he suggested with a grin.

“I mean, I’m okay with that,” Rebecca said with a shrug, masking her internal screaming.

“Maybe later,” he managed to squeak, “it’s been a long day, we should, you know.” He was trying desperately to hold on to that calm suave feeling he had when peacocking in the mirror.

“Alright, let’s go,” she opened the door to the tack and bedroom, passing through and holding the door open behind her. He followed her through, trying to stay calm. He was not going to be overwhelmed, he was going to show her… something about control or sexiness or something he couldn’t remember anymore as the door closed.

“So, Mister Skin Hungry, do you still want that hug?” she asked as she rolled out the bedrolls and blankets she used as a bed.

“No,” he managed to say without a quiver in his voice.

“Oh?” she flattened out the top blanket and looked up at him, eyebrow raised.

“I want to touch you,” he didn’t know how he managed to say that while looking into her eyes.

“Ah, I see,” she drawled, standing up and walking over to him, “Is this you wanting to get back some control?” she asked, taking off his hat and hanging it on a shelf.

“I want you to feel it too,” he whispered, amazed that his voice was almost gentle in its huskiness. He didn’t want to be any louder, his quiet voice drawing her in, making her lean closer to him.

“That’s very sweet of you,” she said with a smile before it faded, her lips parted, her eyes on his lips.

“Scott,” she whispered and looked up to his eyes, “touch me.”

And he did, rushing at her and holding her close, his lips on her neck, her shoulders, her face, her mouth. She moaned and arched into him, pressing into his chest and leaning her head back as she panted. He held her, his hand catching them as he got them onto the blankets. There were so many things he wanted all at once, he was dizzy trying to keep focused on one thing at a time. How could he only do one thing when she was pressing her hips into his, her arms slipping under his shirt to get to his skin.

No. He needed to be in control, he couldn’t let her make him go crazy.

He pulled away from her hands, throwing his jacket and shirt to the side and undoing his belt, getting rid of that as well. He took her hands in his own, lacing their fingers together so she could no longer touch his chest. He leaned back down, pressing against her, thrilled by her eager smile as he stretched his arms forward, pulling hers over her head. Ideally he would chain her hands so she couldn’t touch him so he could focus on making her feel good, but he would have to make do with one hand holding her hands above her head so she couldn’t interfere.

He kissed her neck, listening to her breathing, feeling her pulse, and moved his hands from hers, so he was holding her hands fast above her head. Her breathing hitched and quickened and he smiled against the crook of her neck. He could feel her wrists flexing in his hand, wriggling and trying to escape. She felt wonderful, moving and writhing against him, and his free hand slowly trailed down her chest.

“Let go,” it was so quiet he wasn’t sure he really heard it.

‘What?” he lifted his head from her neck, surprised to see her face pale, expression blank.

“Let GO!” she screamed in panic, breaking her hands free and shoving him off her.

“What? What did I-?” he stopped and swallowed hard as she curled into a ball, facing away from him.

“Aw fuck,” he muttered, realizing he had done everything wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be about control or power, he wanted her to feel the same safety he had felt. Instead he had turned it into a power trip. He was just another Buttergood who ruined things because they couldn’t stop thinking about being in total control.

“I’m sorry, I… I got caught up in thinking I needed to be in charge, instead of just… I should have just made you-”

“Have you ever been tortured?” her question stopped him in his tracks. He realized this wasn’t just about him, this was about her.

“No,” he muttered. He wanted to get closer, he wanted to see her face, but he didn’t want to do more harm.

“Eight days. Eight days I was strung up by my hands.” He didn’t think he could look at her face now, feeling sick. What the fuck had happened? Who would do that to her?

“Don’t… don’t ever,” she hissed, “just… not my hands… don’t hold me down by my…” she hiccuped, sobs coming out before she could stop them.

“I swear, it won’t happen again,” and he meant that. He was going to do better. He was going to be better. He didn’t want to make her cry ever again.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Food? Tissues?” he asked, wanting to get out but not wanting to just leave her.

“Water,” she managed to croak. With a reason to leave he made himself scarce. He stared at his reflection, disgusted by himself. Control. Power. Being in charge. All the things that were important to Buttergoods. Those had no place with him and Rebecca. He wanted to make her feel safe and warm, he wanted her to feel like he was her friend.

But could he ever really get away from it? He was a Buttergood, could he change his ways?

He knew he had to try when he retrieved a bottle of water and entered the tack room again, Rebecca clutching herself and panting. He cracked open the cap so she could open it easily, and he placed it where she could see it.

“I’m sorry, I won’t be able to say that enough, I won’t be able to undo what I did. I’m a Buttergood, a family rotten and vile through and through. I don’t know if I can change that. But I’m going to try. I promise, I’m going to try to be better than my family name,” he promised her, not looking at her. He shouldn’t look at her, he shouldn’t even be near her. He didn’t deserve to be anywhere near her, or count her as a friend.

She sat up and reached for the water, taking a long drink.

“Can… can we just… hold each other? No kissing or… anything?” she mumbled, shy.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, cautiously sitting next to her on the blankets. Should he touch her, or let her make the first move? He decided to be wary and instead slipped under the top layer of blankets. The tack room was not a warm place at night. He rested on his side, facing her, eyes closed. He was going to let her do this when she was comfortable.

After some time her breathing returned to normal and she crawled under the blankets with him. She leaned her forehead against his chest, her breath hot and ragged as she calmed down. Her arm was cold against his skin as she draped her arm over his waist, holding his back. He followed her lead, gently resting his arm over her waist and his hand resting against her back.

She relaxed into him, falling asleep. Scott, however, couldn’t sleep. Being this close, her touch, she still managed to make him feel warm and safe, even after he had upset and hurt her. He wanted her to feel that same. He didn’t want her to be scared, he didn’t want anyone to hurt her ever again. But whatever she was involved in, whoever she was up against, was something beyond him. He wanted to hold her forever, and he wished he could make her feel safe enough that she wouldn’t tremble and whimper in her sleep.