#she say it screwing up and instead of backtracking she kept going forward

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

I think a lot of people assume that Vi is 100% sincere when she tells Jayce that the dead kid "knew what he was signing up for". I thought it was clear from her tone that she could see the revenge train was about to get derailed, and she was just saying whatever she thought she had to say to keep it on the track. She had some serious tunnel vision, but she's not completely indifferent (which she makes pretty clear after Jayce leaves). 

side note: Is it me, or is it common for people to not notice or be unable to interpret characters' tone of voice? I've noticed this is multiple fandoms, where people will focus on something a character says and pay zero attention to how they say it.

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh Part 8

a/n: okay so since my halloween special was a flop ill write this instead but uwuwuwuwu its also my birthday today so hehe this is kinda a special request too :D

WAIT YOU GUYS THIS IS TOTALLY IRRELEVANT IF YOURE NOT A POTTERHEAD BUT OMG I SHARE THE SAME BIRTHDAY AS SIRIUS BLACK LIKE WHAT :”) I THINK I SAVED A COUNTRY IN MY PAST LIFE OR SOMETHING :”)

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

- IF IT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY! omg :0 i think we can all agree that the ramen shop will get GOOD BUSINESS that day. but it was a total surprise when the upperclassmen basically JUMP you after exiting your last class. vball practice? deliberately cancelled cuz today is YOUR day. kyo leading you, iwa making sure your eyes are closed while oikawa keeps teasing you on how you’re letting a group of men take you BLIND (cue the PUNCH). your smile is worth the XXX amount spent c,:

LOOK HOW CUTE MATTSUHANA ARE IN THIS LIKE OMG ITS LIKE IWAOI SPIRIT SWITCHED W THEIRS AND NOW IWAOI HAVE TO PULL THEM APART INSTEAD OF THE OTHER WAY AROUND

okay yay happy birthday to me uwu

i kinda put this request off since my borfday was right around the corner so hahaha to the anon who requested this, here it is!!!

okay anyways!!!

so today is your borfday

obvs this could be any day lmao it doesnt have to be today but it can be any day just pretend the calendar was different lmao

you were born today and your parents and natsu obvs celebrated it the morning you woke up

like you were peacefully holding your squirtle plushie and snuggling close to get more sleep bc it was still early

but natsu quite literally kicked your door down and your parents walked in with a large cake with candles

STEPBRO WHAT ARE YOU-

okay ill stop now

ofc you were startled bc what the hek 

like you were so surprised that you rolled off the bed and landed harshly on the floor

instead of being yanno ‘yey! its my borfday!’ you were like ‘dear asahi kill me’

waking you up at the buttcrack of dawn?

lmao 10/10 not recommend

natsu felt really bad and he pulled you up from the floor and situated you back on the bed while your parents backtracked back downstairs

‘ohmygosh babygirl im so sorry i didnt mean to hulk smash you to the floor’

im sorry sir what 💀

this whore

you waved him off but he still felt guilty so he just pressed kisses to your forehead to soothe it

meanwhile youre just leaning against him, eyes closed, bc you grew up with natsu always doing this whenever you got hurt so it was such a soff moment for you

eventually, he was able to bring you downstairs and your parents were lowkey scared lmao but you smiled at them

‘thank you for the cake’

they breathed a sigh of relief and you sat down on the chair to eat breakfast

‘here darling’

you accepted the bowl of rice from your madre and you ate your birthday breakfast with them while yall are saving the cake for later during dinner

when you finished, you were getting up and shouting up the stairs that you were showering first

hehe natsu was all like ‘lmao why? its like 4 in the morning’

you froze, foot hovering over a step and you sighed

‘excuse me what 💀‘

yea no

you were dragged back to the kitchen and you were all pouty bc duh who the hek wants to wake up that early but your parents saved themselves by giving you your parents early

(literally anything you guys want they gave you okay? but only like 3 lmao not a bajillion things)

you were still grateful for everything and you felt very much appreciated

since it was still early, you just decided to screw it and got ready to go to school early and set up the gym for early morning practice

natsu volunteered to go with you to school but you shook your head

‘nah, im okay. the walk is peaceful’

he huffed, crossing his arms, but nodded anyways

‘fine. only because its your birthday’

hehehehe the amount of freedom during your day of birth

you were of course the first one in the gym but you didnt mind bc you actually liked the quietness that was so rare inside there

you turned on some (f/m) (lmao favorite/music) and you were sweeping, unknowingly swaying and dancing slightly

at around 5:40, the third years have arrived and since theyre the eldest, they usually get there first

omg the blush explosion on their faces when they saw you twirling around with the mop and ofc oikawa being the little poopie head he is, he swooped in and held your waist

you got startled but seeing the soft brown eyes of your captain made a soft smile appear on your face

‘hello, oikawa-san’

you whispered and he nuzzled his face to the side of your head softly

‘morning, y/n-chan’

before he could go on, iwa threw him away behind him and you giggled

mattsun raised an eyebrow at your odd behavior

‘hm? why are you so happy today, y/n-chan?’

you stopped then chuckled

‘nothing much, mattsun-san’

you didnt really want to tell them it was your birthday bc tbh you didnt think it was a big deal or anything

the others werent complaining bc they rarely see you so lively and upbeat and they loved it

you were humming under your breath for gods sake

the other boys have trickled in and again, they also went ‘?’

your soft smiles, giggles, and joy was everything to them 

god bless for this beautiful morning

poor kindaichi cowered in fright as he braced himself for a scolding from you for missing a block but he got even more scared when you just patted his head

‘its okay, yuu-kun. there’s always a next time’

yea there was something wrong

unfortunately, school was starting and they weren’t able to start questioning you and there aint no way kindaichi and kunimi were going to do that themselves without the upperclassmen who could calm you down if you got too defensive

you were skipping down the hallway and you even looped your arms around your first year friends and they shared a confused look before being dragged by you

during class, darling kunimi was too busy and distracted by your quiet singing of some show that takeru watched when you were over

‘KUNIMI-SAN, IS MATH SO BORING THAT YOU FIND INTEREST ON L/N-SAN INSTEAD?’

yes, yes it is

but he didnt say that and instead turned away so fast that you felt the wind beside you

DID A 180 CRAZY~~~

he texted the separate bros group chat about you still being all happy and they were all curious as to what makes you so happy

during lunch time, kindaichi usually went over to go eat with you and kunimi right?

but he was surprised when he just saw kunimi there without you

‘wh-’

‘i dont know’

‘what do you mean you dont know?!’

nah fam we not dying yet

natsu texted you earlier that he had a bento for you that he made himself and he wanted you to eat it instead of the one your mom made

you were passing by the building entrance door thingy and caught the attention of the third years who were at the rooftop eating their lunch

there was also other students outside and they watched your flowery aura skip over to the equally attractive hiroshi natsu

‘y/n-chan~’

he cooed and you smiled up at him

curse him and his tall height

he let you hold the f/c cloth covered box so he could cup your face and kiss over your booboo again

‘wo mow, matsu-’

translation: no more, natsu!

you whined as he kept kissing your forehead and you were turning red at the attention from the other students

dang oikawa crushed his juice box at the sight even though he knew natsu was just a cousin

‘ill save you, y/n-chan!’

he shouted, already flying down the stairs towards you and the other third years after him to keep him from doing something stupid

but they also lowkey wanna see you too

but by the time they reached the entrance, you were already walking away and even passed by the quartet, giving them a close-eyed smile and a cute ‘hello!’

the 3 were distracted by you and were coddling you while oikawa ran out and shouted after natsu’s retreating form

‘natsu! oi, natsu!’

as if the boy was purposely ignoring him, natsu kept walking forward

‘HIROSHI NATSU!’

his scream finally made him turn around and natsu’s face held a teasing smirk

‘oya? chibi-chan?’

KDJFSLFDFKDSJKFD YES YOU CALLED?

oikawa huffed and panted as he firmly walked over to natsu

‘tell me, hiroshi natsu. why is y/n-chan all cutesy and happy today?’

then the smirk fell, replaced by an actual, genuine annoyed look

‘hah?’

oikawa blinked

‘what do you mean ‘hah’?’

natsu waved his hands around in a frenzy of shock

‘so you mean to tell me, you, oikawa tooru, the dude who literally woke up the neighborhood at the buttcrack of dawn a few weeks ago, in love with my cousin, doesn’t know what today is?’

‘was i supposed to,,,, know?’

KSDLFJSDKFJDS THIS DUDE

natsu’s face became a meme and the guy was so disappointed that he just turned around and continued walking

oikawa gasped and clutched natsu’s arm, begging and pleading to tell him

ofc the little shite natsu is, he smirked down at oikawa’s kneeling form

‘hmm, gotta say, chibi-kun. i like this view~’

KDSLFJSDKFJLSDKFJDKS WHOS CHILD ARE YOU, HIROSHI NATSU

‘tell me, natsu-chan!’

the puppy eyes of oikawa tooru not only affected girls but also boys fully socked homosexual boys so natsu had to turn away, fighting down a blush

stay loyal to katsuki

stay loyal to katsuki

stay loyal to katsuki

wait, no, probably tetsu

or kenma

or both

or keiji

‘-me! natsu-chan!’

that snapped the pink-haired boy out of his thoughts and crossed his arms, glaring down at oikawa

‘hm, why do you wanna know so bad? youre on your knees, begging me for information you shouldve already known since you claim to like her so much’

oikawa pouted and he sniffled

‘i wanna know everything about y/n-chan. i wanna know what today is so i can make her as happy as she is today forever!’

‘youre so cheesy’

natsu chided and oikawa pouted even harder causing natsu to sigh and pinch his nose

‘the girl was born today’

oikawa’s face lit up and he hurriedly stood on his feet, hands on natsu’s biceps since he could barely reach natsu’s shoulders bc of his 6′5 height

‘its her birthday today?!’

‘i literally just said that-’

‘oh my gosh! we need to plan something!’

oikawa started but then frowned

‘but we’re in school so it would be too late to do a surprise when we finish’

his mumbles 

filled their vicinity and natsu finally realized where exactly they were so he tugged the still mumbling boy over to the side out of people’s view

ohmygosh if i saw 2 handsome, tall, hot boys there, id be staring too omg

‘oi, oikawa’

he still didnt budge until natsu had to kick him at the leg

rip not his knee yall

tooru flinched and hatefully glared at the boy but natsu pointedly glared at him right back

‘before you start bitching to me, i was just gonna suggest i can help you and your little plan to woo my baby cousin’

as if he wasn’t irritated in the first place, tooru lit up and he excitedly clung onto natsu

‘really? you’ll really help me?’

natsu rolled his eyes and tried to pry the brunette off of him but he felt the grip tighten

‘listen, oikawa, as much as i like having pretty boys hang on to me, i’d really appreciate if you just back off a bit and actually understand what im saying’

can i just say how long their lunch break is?

and not at natsu trying to get with oikawa and oikawa completely missing it

‘you can go do your education scam system thing while i can go set things up over at that one noodle place she likes’

natsu explained

oikawa was about to smile until he paused and leaned away

‘theres a catch. i know theres a catch’

then natsu smirked, confirming oikawa’s suspicion

‘ill think about what i really want but for now, i just wanna see that one doggie boy you guys have. also, your friend with the big arms’

lmao imagine the surprise in oikawa’s face

‘YOU GO FOR THEM BUT NOT ME?!’

‘why? you want me to?’

‘YES! i mean, well-no but YES!’

‘*sigh*’

thats how oikawa ended up telling the boys about the last minute birthday surprise for you and the help from natsu

‘yea, apparently its her birthday. also, iwa-chan, kyoken-chan, you need to talk to natsu-chan’

‘hah?! why?!’

‘THAT IDIOT?!’

you were minding your own business during class until you saw kunimi raise his hand

‘yes, kunimi-kun?’

‘bathroom’

normally, you wouldve just looked away but you noticed him grab his bag when the teacher wasn’t looking which prompted you to sigh since he was skipping class

i mean, whats the point of skipping class when the day is about to be over in like 15 minutes anyways?

‘make sure to come to practice’

you whispered when he passed and he smiled, making you raise an eyebrow bc that was a smile you knew that had a hidden meaning behind it

when the bell rang, everyone nyoomed themselves out of there and you were just walking past the door when a body came crashing to you which made you distracted and allowed a chance of vulnerability

there was a pair of hands covered your eyes from behind, hands grabbed your own from in front, and an arm around your waist started to guide you forward

‘um, just so you know, i have the power of god, anime, and iwa-san by my side and i wont hesitate to kick you in the di-’

‘its so cute when y/n-chan threatens us’

a voice from in front of you hums and you smiled

‘you wont think im really cute once youre on the floor clutching your di-’

‘oi, y/n, ill wash your tongue with soap’

‘yes, iwa-san’

you continued to walk, completely trusting at the hands of your boys, when you felt yourself being pulled to turn a corner

‘iwa-san? aren’t we going to the gym? why are we exiting the gates?’

the boys exchanged a look of amazement at your sense of intuition and the accuracy of your guess despite being deprived of your senses

‘dont think you can lie to us, y/n-chan! how could you not tell us its your birthday today?!’

you heard mattsun a few feet in front of you whine and you giggled

‘its not important’

then kyotani scoffed, you knowing it was him by feeling him twitch by the arm around your waist

‘boke, of course its important’

‘so your punishment for lying to us, we’re kidnapping you’

makki teased and you rolled your eyes beneath iwa’s hands

‘oh, shiver me timbers’

the walk continued, you still being dragged around, and you heard oikawa laugh

‘oh dear, its a sight to see, ain’t it? if only you can see the looks people are giving us, y/n-chan~ a group of boys taking a little girl like you? how could you trust us to not do something to you-ACK!’

you cut him off when you lifted your foot to kick right where it hurts the most

forget his weewee

its the knee

poor child crumbled to the floor and had to be picked up by baby watari

‘oh wata-cchi, youre the only one who cares about oikawa-san!’

you heavily sighed at the exagerrated theatrics of your captain

‘the one day. the one day when he could be a normal person for once’

you grumbled but stopped when you heard iwa laugh by your ear

‘he’s right you know. you technically lied to us when we asked if there was something special’

you shivered and you leaned your head back

‘its okay, iwa-san. we can talk about it after this event. make sure to give me my present, okay?’

SKDLFJSDKFJDSKFLDS GIRL NO I CANT I WANNA JUMP-

but iwa chuckled and he promised you that you would love his present

kyotani’s arm tightened around you, as if prompting you that he was still there and he wanted your attention too

‘careful there, pup’

he warned when you almost tripped over air

‘hehe, i know ill always be safe when youre next to me, kyo-san’

you teased and he was lucky your eyes were covered bc you would see the way his cheeks tinted red

‘s-shut up, idiot! maybe i shouldve just let you fall and hit your head! not like its gonna do damage since theres nothing there anyways!’

you just giggled and he retaliated by pinching your waist to which you squealed and gripped his hands

then the smell of the ramen broth entered your nose

‘are we-?’

‘nope! not there yet, y/n-chan!’

oikawa’s voice made you whine and complain but then he stopped, making everyone else stop too

‘okay, iwa-chan, kyoken-chan, release her!’

both grumbled something about you being treated like a pokemon but stopped when your eyes widened and contorted into confusion

‘huh?’

oikawa grinned and your eyes met to see the way his eyes crinkled, a tell-tale sign that this one was a rare genuine smile

‘come on! lets go!’

you let him take you inside the restaurant until your feet stopped, eyes wide when you noticed the streamers and the cake by the corner

your parents stood with natsu by the table and a large smile decorated your face

‘you,, you did this for me?’

you whispered and the team made noises of agreement

‘we had to do something for you to celebrate the day you were born. its a special day because you came into the world and we were able to meet you’

yahaba grinned and you gave him a big hug but you leaned back a bit so that the others would know you’re talking to them too

‘everyone, thank you. i love you’

they all scoffed a bit to hide their flustered state but they still smiled and each gave you a hug

‘oi! come here and eat the food! oikawa’s paying today!’

natsu shouted, which caught the attention of some customers in the restaurant, but they just ignored it bc theyve seen you and the team so many times that yall practically lived there

‘what?! i didnt-’

oikawa started but your mother came up to him and clasped her hands to his, sharing the same exact grin you have

‘you must be oikawa tooru. y/n has told me loads about you’

excuse him while he descends to heaven bc your mother is practically another you

iwa was already acquainted with your dad so they started talking and you just stood back, observing your two families interact with each other

you were so unbelievably happy that it hurts

kindaichi noticed you and he slinked away from the debate between makki and mattsun to go sling an arm around you

‘so? what do you think?’

you turned to him with glassy eyes

‘im so blessed. so blessed to have these amazing people with me’

poor babie panicked a bit bc he didnt really know how to comfort a crying girl but he just wrapped his arms around you

‘hehe, its kinda the other way around actually. we’re blessed to have someone like you’

he whispered and you giggled then playfully hit his shoulder

‘so cheesy, yuu-kun’

he leaned away from the hug and gave you an offended look

‘but its true! i dont know what we did to have-’

‘Y/N-CHAN! NO! HELP!’

oikawa shouted from the other side, cutting off your soft moment with kindaichi

‘what are you doing, natsu?’

you noticed your cousin wrapping his arms around your captain and trying to drag him away but poor tooru was scrambling to escape

‘we made a deal, didnt we, darling~? i know what i want now and youre going to have to give me you’

oikawa screamed

a/n: can we please pretend i posted this on november 3? bc i was dumb and forgot to post this and KLDJLSDKFJDSKD IM SO ANGRY but its okay at least i am able to publish this haha

[cullxtheherd]

Dammit, I'm too soft and need my comfort boys now! 😭

Can I get “No one’s kissed me like that in a long time.” for Sharky, my dear pyromaniac boy? ❤

hell yeah you friggin can!!! thank, thank, thank you for sending me this ask!! i haven't proofread SHIT!! i took my medicaiton and i need a nap!!! asakdjskdsk this is uh? what most would call NSFW, enjoy!

“Woah, woah Chica-” Charlemagne grips the condensation laden bottle by its end and its past peeling sticker. The texture lies somewhere between off putting and comforting and he runs the pad of his thumb over one of the wrinkled corners, “Hold on now I-hCc!” Despite being a well seasoned drinker something must not have sat right with him this evening and he hiccups twice before he can continue.

“What was I sayin’?'' It comes out as one word on one hopps laden breath and he refocuses on his drinking partner for the time being, “Oh, yeah!” He hikes a finger into the air vaguely in her direction with one eye half closed, leaning on the rounded edge of the bartop, “We hardly even know each other, Little Miss!” With the bottle halfway to his lips he abruptly stops, one finger uncurling to point at her as well, “And I do declare-hmnn-hmm-hmm!”

Sharky can’t hardly help himself on a good day and he starts laughing. First he does try to subdue it, face pinching with the effort but he does release a painful snort, “I’m sorry,” He tries between a hoot, “I can’t even take my own damn self seriously- did you hear what I was even trying to say? I mean, woo-hoo!” He laughs again at the thought, cheeks and neck reddening with rising hilarity, “Me. Charlemagne Victor Boshaw the FOURTH!! Tellin’ an interested woman what’s for.”

“Well, I mean!” He realizes himself too late and he sputters trying to backtrack, bottle at his lips for a swish before he continues, “That is not to say that I am assumin’ nothin’ when it comes to that or you and me- and hey!” Feeling like he’s really only caught his first good, decent look at his comrade for the night, he tries to concentrate around the blurred, starry edges of his vision. “Hang on now, you remind me of somebody.” His face screws up in a look of near constipation, gears grinding and turning - trying desperately to form a single, cognitive thought, “I know you…”

“Aww,” Her voice is low and pitying, sickeningly sweet, “Sharky.” Tinged with a hint of hopeful disappointment, “You should just stop thinking.” She swivels in her seat, one leg folded neatly over the other and a halo of blonde shining under the overhead lights, “Just,” She inches closer, just slightly, forever luring him in but never setting the hook, “Hush that pretty head of yours and have another drink. It is,” The lines around her eyes set when she giggles far more youthful than her appearance, “On the house, after all.”

“Yeah,” He agrees though he isn’t particularly thirsty and when a bottle is pressed to his lips he takes a lengthy swig, fully trusting the woman he’s been speaking to. “I should,” So entranced is he that he hardly realizes the switch off. New bottle, different shape, “You’re right.” Directly from her hands to his mouth this time. “That’s an excellent idea-” He wants to elaborate but the thoughts leave him and he watches, happily, as someone he is sure he should know briefly interrupts their little two-person soirée.

“Yes,” He catches her saying, “Yes Father.”

The way she looks up at him with an unmatched, heady desire sparks a tight, hateful twinge somewhere deep within him and suddenly, without thought or warning, he’s getting up out of his seat- nearly jumping backwards off of his bar stool. He doesn’t say anything but he holds himself on edge, breath heavy and chest tight. Ready for what, he isn’t sure.

His new friend gets up as well. Slowly and placatingly she approaches him. Tiptoeing barefoot around the toppled stool she rests on her heels in front of him, pads of her pointers tracing the raised, bubble lettering of his sweatshirt. “Shame,” She sounds sad and heartbroken as she looks up at him through her lashes, “Things were going so well, wouldn’t you say?”

Though he is struggling through the haze, trying to break free from the control she has on him he finds himself nodding along, mouth opening, “Yes, I would.”

“Tonight was going to be the night, Charlemagne,” There is an almost supernatural, haunting tone to her voice that coats him to his very soul- viscous and charming is she, “The. Night.” She pouts feigning a sob into his chest and, despite the dread creeping in he embraces her, palms smoothing over the lines of her gauzy, lace dress. “Do you understand what that means?”

Sharky doesn’t respond verbally but his fingers tighten, digging into the curve of her shoulders underneath a layer of fabric that reminds him of the floral doilies his grandmother kept on surfaces around her home.

“You and me, together,” Though he is gaining his wits his heart aches for that statement, “Forever.” She spins once, heavenly, between his arms and humming, “It could be Bliss, you know.”

She looks up at him and though he knows he should make a move to run- leave this place and never look back, he dips his head instead. When their lips meet it is other-worldly. Charlemagne feels like blasting off into space with Larry and whatever that damn computer's name is he’s always talking about.

Though they are by no means alone, anything rooted in reality ceases to exist for him. They could be in the middle of a field, tornado overhead- bottom of a mountain with an avalanche barrelling down and he would be none the wiser. Sharky had never been one to buy into the whole ‘time stops’ theory when it came to being with another person and sharing intimacy, but? He is becoming a believer as the seconds tick by.

When they pull apart, each of their chests heaving for breath he takes a long, wisened look at her. This is? The enemy. Without a doubt- make no mistakes about it. This is wrong.

She opens her mouth to say something but unthinking and working solely on drive Charlemagne pushes forward, rearing her into the wall of, what he is now aware is, not a licensed retail establishment. The bus turned Peggie jungle gym decorating the center of Moonflower Trailer Park creaks and groans with the voracity in which he attaches himself to her.

In the many times he’d dared to imagine a similar scenario he at least envisioned some kind of refusal or rebuttal from the female Herald but she leans into him, eager to respond. Sharky pulls away, flustered lips biting a line down the side of her mouth to her chin. At her neck he particularly digs in, hands tying into her hair tightly.

“No one’s kissed me like that in a long time,” She’s a mixture of cross and ashamed, hands wrung tightly in the curled hairs at the nape of his neck, “Bastard.”

“Should leave you with a little somethin’ for Padre Joe, in that case.” He moves in as her mouth opens to object, teeth rough on the tender bend of her neck. A hand travels the curve of her ass, bringing her in closely as she responds.

“Sharky . . .”

He’s never heard a creature as ethereal as her breathless before and it takes battling an excellent sense of self preservation to make a line of mottled, swollen hickeys in every tender, erogenous zone he can manage to get to. “You like that?” As the Bliss really begins to leave him he does have the sense to start getting angry with her and her tricks despite their current entanglement.

She nods her agreement, little huffs of air tickling the short hairs on the side of his neck but it isn’t quite the type of affirmation he’s looking for.

“Let’s see, then.” With nearly any other woman he would likely not be this assertive but this is the second time she’s tried to drug him and take advantage of him to get him to join their stupid wacky cult and? He’s not concerned about pleasantries or anything resembling normalcy. The hand at her rear ruchs up the back of her dress just enough so that he can trace the outline of her panties freely before snaking a finger inside, “Oh, yeah?”

She has the decency to look embarrassed and he smiles wide, pleased, “You get all hot and bothered thinkin’ of ways to get me to say Yes, don’t you?”

“I-” He shifts, moving to bring his hand to a more advantageous position and she makes a noise of protest, “No!”

Sharky raises a brow at her and the way her barefoot slaps the ground in rebuttal, “You sure about that?” Reaching between them he adjusts himself, purposefully slow to return his hand to the apex of her thighs. Alight with joy at the look of frustration it causes he relents, “Now,” The decommissioned school bus creaks when she tries to vy for leverage against his slow, lapping movements, “Think real hard before you answer me-”

“Yes! I do- I,” Rachel cuts herself off sucking in a large, shaking breath, “Ohh! I love thinking of ways to bring you down, Sinner! I- mmm!”

Charlemagne laughs silently, eyes creasing up in the direction of the moonlight. Toeing the line of stern and gentle he leans in, lips and tongue and careful teeth against her. Two small, hot hands grip the width of his wrist, keeping him there, when he tries to adjust his stance and he grins against her, sickeningly glad to know he is doing well for her.

Nose against the shell of her ear and mouth working on and off in time with his digits he speaks gently this time, starkly aware of what her reality must be, “How long has it been since a man treated you right?” Apparently unable to speak, she shakes her head in the negative, teeth pinching her lower lip, “Never?”

“Shut up,” She barely manages.

“What?”

“I said shut up and fuck me, Charlemagne!”

His entire face screws up at that, her hazy spell broken. “No,” Sharky removes himself from her, head shaking in the negative, “Don’t think I will. Go home, Faith.”

“You can’t just stick your fingers in a woman and then tell her to get out, Sharky!”

“I can and I have and I will, Ma’am.” Taking a breath he releases what he’s debating on, “Not every guy wants it like that, Shorty.” Out of view within the bus behind her he reaches into the darkness, “Sooner you learn that,” He shrugs, looking stern though he is sporting quite the rock-hard erection, “Sooner we can do more than just talk.”

“Sharky-”

The shotgun blast dissipates the vision of her and he looks down at the barrel, nearly disappointed he hadn’t submitted and agreed to be turned into one of her newest pets, “Well. Least I got my twenty bucks worth.”

[anna-pixie]

would you be up for writing Poe Dameron based off of the song Girls by The 1975? like an age gap (nothing gross, just maybe a 19 or 20 year old reader) and Poe trying to navigate dating someone significantly younger (i imagine he’s somewhere close to Oscar Isaac’s real age, probably in his 30s?)

i think i might do another part to this, with them properly dating. this is just them getting together, i guess?

Request: Poe Dameron based off of the song Girls by The 1975? like an age gap and Poe trying to navigate dating someone significantly younger

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader

Warnings: Swearing, age gap (19/35)

*

“They’re just girls, Finn.”

“They’re, what, 19? They’re adults, Poe.” Finn’s voice is condescending as he speaks to his friend, Poe scowling at him in response. 

“I’m worried about Rey finding out, you know what she’s like…” He says, voice worried as he bites his lip. 

“Poe, Poe, Poe. Where’s the fun in doing what you’re told?” Finn smacks his friend's shoulder lightly, beckoning over to the two girls, “Besides, everyone knows Y/N is head over heels for you. Go for it, man. You deserve to let off some steam.”

Poe bites his lip as he contemplates. 

Sure, he’s not that old. 35 isn’t that old, right? Poe had never had trouble with his confidence, he was gorgeous and he knew it. He could get anyone he wanted, with a mere smile. Then there’s you. He noticed the looks you gave him, the way you would stop talking and flush whenever he walked into the same room as you. He noticed the way you bit your lip every time he wore his orange jumpsuit. But you were so young. 

He hadn’t been too bothered about it, not until Rey voiced her opinion. One night when the three friends were playing cards in Poe’s room, the topic turned to you - since you and your friend Dyla had only recently joined the resistance. Of course he mentioned how pretty you were, everyone knew it. Finn hummed in agreement but Rey’s face dropped into a frown. 

“Really?” Her tone was incredulous, as if the man had just told her to fuck off or something. 

“Uh… what?” Poe looks to Finn, who is equally as confused as himself. 

“You’re old enough to be her dad, that’s so pervy.”

“She’s, like, twenty.” Poe counters, his face heating at the accusation of being ‘pervy’. 

“Nineteen, actually.” 

“Whatever, Rey. I wouldn’t actually sleep with her.”

“Good. You better hadn’t.”

So, he didn’t. No matter how much he wanted to stride across the Cantina and fling you against the wall everytime you so much as glanced over to him. No matter how many times he had to excuse himself to the bathroom after seeing you bite your lip. 

Until tonight. 

*

You’d put in more effort than usual tonight. It was the first night off for everyone in a long time, so spirits were high and drinks were flowing. Dyla had snuck a bottle of some sort of spirit into your room, and the two of you took shot after shot whilst getting ready. You take one final shot, reveling in the way your head spins slightly, and look yourself up and down in the mirror. 

Tonight would be different. Ever since you joined the resistance, the only man on your mind was Poe Dameron. The first moment you saw him was indescribable. You had been introducing yourself to General Organa when he entered the room, barking orders to some scrawny men in front of computers. You had lost your train of thought as your eyes followed him around the room, shivering slightly at the authority his presence commanded. General Organa was amused, very used to the effect Poe had on women. 

You’re not a very confident person. Actually, your shyness is crippling. So the only way you knew how to flirt with Poe was with long, lingering glances and slight lip bites when you thought he wasn’t looking. You have kept up this delusion for a while, the delusion that Poe might one day look at you and decide to sweep you off your feet. But you knew better now. 

You’d received a slap in the face from reality when you snuck into the cantina late last night, since you’d forgotten to eat dinner. There, at the far end of the room, was Poe. He had one of the other pilots, Grilda, you think her name is, pushed up against the wall. Their lips were clashing in a fervour and your legs felt wobbly as you watched the scene. It was then you realised you were wasting your time pining over a man who would never give you the time of day. 

So here you stand, your favourite red dress on, ready to go and flirt with someone who is not Poe Dameron. You stand beside Dyla as she fixes you both a drink, scanning the room slightly to see who had joined the celebration. You force your eyes to pass quickly over Poe, who is standing across the room from you with Finn. Though, you could’ve sworn he was looking at you….

3 drinks later, you finally excuse yourself to the toilet, leaving Dyla with a few other friends to keep her company. You groan in delight as you pee, it always feels so much better when you’re drunk. Before you leave you quickly ruffle your curled hair in the mirror and reapply your red lipstick. You smile at yourself, trying to give an internal pep talk. 

You can do this. Go outside. Take a shot. Find a random pilot. Kiss the hell out of him. 

You exit the bathroom with a deep breath, stopping suddenly in your tracks when you find Poe leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom. Surely this is a coincidence, right? He can’t actually be waiting for you. He looks up when you open the door and his eyes widen slightly, pushing himself off the wall towards you. 

“Y/N, hey.” His voice is as confident as ever and it takes all of your willpower to not start kissing him right there. 

“Poe… um, hi.” Your voice is soft, almost shaking as you bite your lip with nerves. Poe groans slightly and your eyes widen as he takes a step towards you, his tall frame towering over you. 

“Listen, I’ve seen the looks you give me.” He gets straight to the point, walking you backwards slightly so you’re now leant against the wall, with him trapping you against him. 

“Oh, Gosh.” Your brow furrows, he’s here to tell you to stop being a desperate loser, right?

“The way you bite your lip when you think I’m not looking.” He continues, bringing a large hand to cup your face. His thumb brushes your lower lip slightly and you release it from it’s hold, breath quickening. 

“I-I’m sorry.” It becomes clear quickly that Poe isn’t listening to you as he leans in closer, confidence growing as he pushes his thumb into your mouth. You squeak slightly, not sure where this is coming from all of a sudden. You’re certainly not complaining, though. You react quickly, not wanting to waste the moment as you suck his thumb lightly, reveling in the way he groans. 

“I’m 35.” He speaks suddenly, pulling back and cupping your face with both of his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

“Um, okay?” You reply, confusion clouding your features. What does that have to do with what is going on right now?

“I mean, uh,” He takes a step back, seeming timid all of a sudden as he scratches the back of his neck, “I just want you to know. In case I’m, y’know, too old for you.” He avoids your eyes this time and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. He frowns at your response and you quickly backtrack. 

“You? Old? Tell me another joke.” You grab his face this time, your movements encouraged by the alcohol in your system. “I know how old you are, does it really look like I care about that?”

“Guess not.” Confident Poe is back now, a smirk gracing his features as he steps forward once more. You barely have any time to react before his lips are on yours, hot and wet. 

He winds his hand into your hair tightly and tugs, causing you to gasp lightly. He takes this opportunity to push his tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth as you reciprocate desperately. You’re panting by the time he pulls away, giggling at the red lipstick that stains his mouth. 

“Let's do this again sometime.” He grins, kissing you once more before wiping the lipstick off his mouth with the back of his hand. He walks off, a spring in his step as he returns to Finn who grins at him knowingly, Dyla sitting on his lap. 

You take a moment to catch your breath and let your brain catch up with your body. Did that really just happen or are you dreaming?

*

If you thought that was a dream, the next month had been an out of body experience. As you lie in your bed next to Poe, watching him snore with his head resting on your bare chest, you think back to the previous month when you had barely spoken to him. 

After your encounter, he could barely keep his hands off you. You would get pulled into dark hallways and empty utility rooms, Poe would have you muffling a scream behind your hand in mere minutes. 

That’s how it always was though, in secret. 

“I can’t be what you need, you’re just a girl, this is just physical.” He told you time and time again. 

But time and time again, he would show up at your door when he couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t realised he was plagued by night terrors until he woke you up with one, screaming in terror with his eyes screwed shut. That was when he told you that he could only sleep soundly with you. Unbeknownst to him, you waited for him to fall asleep every night before he did, wanting to make sure he was in a peaceful slumber before you succumbed to unconsciousness. You always woke up wrapped in his arms, so he must wake up at least once during the night. 

“Mmmh.” Poe hums sleepily as he blinks his eyes open slowly, looking up at you from where he lies. He gives you a dopey smile, still delirious from sleep. You return it, carding your fingers through his hair as his eyes start to droop again, “Don’t wanna get up. Wanna stay here forever.” You squeal as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, biting you playfully. 

“C’mon, mister. You’ve got a meeting with General Organa at 6.” You try to remind him, but he simply ignores you, choosing instead to disappear under the covers with a wicked grin, “Poe? What are yo- Oh!” Your train of thought stops as you feel his mouth on your heat, waking you up completely as he holds down your shaking legs. 

“She can wait.” He grumbles. 

*

“I told you she’d be mad, Poe.” You give him a pointed look as he collapses into your bed after returning from his meeting with the general. 

“Shut up.” He glares at you from your bed as you fix your hair in the small mirror, “I don’t know where she gets off calling me immature. Me? Immature? Please.” He crosses his arms and pouts. 

“You’re pouting like a little baby, Poe.”

“You’re supposed to tell me that I’m the most mature person you’ve ever met and that Leia should never speak to me like that.”

You repeat his words back to him in a monotonous voice, grinning as his glare darkens and he falls back onto the bed. 

“C’mere.” He looks back up at you and beckons you over. You comply with a wry smile and giggle as he pulls you down with him, twisting around so he’s on top of you. He kisses you deeply, biting your bottom lip hard as you try to tell him to need to leave soon, “No.” He mumbles, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Well, 10 minutes late won’t hurt, right?

You shriek in surprise as the door to your room slams open suddenly, the two of you looking over with wide eyes. It seems as though Poe’s little droid, BB8, opened the door for Rey and Finn who stand behind it. Finn seems to be holding in laughter whilst Rey sports a thunderous expression at the sight of us. Oh dear, she’s not his girlfriend, right?

I sit up quickly, pushing Poe off me and fixing my hair. Poe mutters angrily to himself as Rey invites herself into my room, stomping over to us. 

“You perv!” She points at Poe, and my eyes widen as I look between the two. 

“Wh… what?” You stumble over your words as you try to figure out what is going on. 

“Nothing, baby, Rey was just leaving.”

“Y/N.” Rey ignores Poe completely, turning to face you, “He’s old enough to be your dad! What are you doing?”

“Rey.” Poe is shouting now, his loud voice piercing through the tense atmosphere of the room. “You made me second guess approaching Y/N for months. You know what? It was never about my age. I’m only 35 for kriff’s sake, you act like I’m fucking Palpatine. What is this really about? And you’d better tell me the truth because I’m this close to losing my shit.”

You vaguely register Finn’s ‘Oh snap’ as you gaze wide eyed at the angry man in front of you. His jaw clenches and his fists are balled up, muscles bulging in anger. Oh dear, you don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on before. 

No one expects what happens next. Rey bursts into tears. 

“It’s not fair.” She wails, “I liked you first.” My eyes widen as she turns to me. I thought she was speaking to Poe, “I could tell you liked Poe instead. I wanted to keep him away from you.”

The room falls silent after Rey’s confession, no one knowing what to say. A wave of guilt comes crashing into you, but it’s hardly your fault. You speak to Rey occasionally when you see her around base, but you never had any indication that she was interested in you.

“Fucking hell.” Poe wipes a hand down his face in exasperation. “What did I say, Finn? Fucking girls, man.”

[snowdice]

Gaps in His Files (Part 10) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

I feel as though I should make a statement in Logan’s defense before you read this. There is a thing called unreliable narration and... our narrator is spiraling. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

“I have to go to work today,” Patton said Friday morning. “I am trusting you enough to not attempt to go to school like yesterday if for no other reason then so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

Logan nodded and Patton didn’t think he’d gotten his point totally across yesterday, but he thought Logan would probably not do anything today since on Fridays he only had to attend two classes and not teach or meet one-on-one with anyone.

“Good,” Patton said, biting his lip. Logan was distracted with one of his personal files and wasn’t looking at him. He’d been quiet yesterday after Patton had dragged him back from the college. He’d stopped asking Patton questions about himself or really talking to Patton at all, instead choosing to stew in his ire in silence. He read the book Patton got him and was civil when he needed something from Patton or when Patton asked something out of him, but his discontent with Patton’s presence was written all over his face. ‘Maybe I don’t want what I built’ echoed in the silence between them. It really sucked to know that Logan could so easily learn to hate him. “Bye then. I’ll see you later.” He shut the door to the apartment behind him.

He drove to the hospital in a daze of emotional numbness and sat in his car in the parking lot, staring at the tall building for almost 15 minutes with a tight feeling in his stomach before finally forcing himself into the building.

He had been hoping that having something to keep his mind busy with would help him feel better, but it just seemed to make things worse. It made the gaping hole in his chest widen and widen until it threatened to consume all of him. When he went to check on a patient’s wound, he felt like he could throw up despite the fact that he was long past being grossed out by medical things. It just kept getting worse and worse as Patton worked mechanically through the morning. Talk to patients, smile at coworkers, take vitals. Don’t rest. Don’t feel. Don’t break. Break and someone dies.

“Patton,” a voice called as the lunch hour crept closer. Patton turned to see Remy rushing down the hallway towards him. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I have a shift,” Patton replied blankly. He tried to turn away from him because a friendly face was the most dangerous thing right now, but Remy grabbed his arm. “What do you want Remy?” Patton asked, refusing to look at him. There was a pause before he was tugged on and yanked into a hall closet.

Patton rounded on him once the door closed behind them, a bit of it leaking, just not in any way that would actually help. Instead, it came out in a way that would likely just make it worse when the guilt hit later. “What?” he snapped harshly.

Remy didn’t respond for a long moment, just leaning against the opposite wall of the closet with a frown on his face. Patton bristled under the scrutiny.

“I heard Bluebird got beamed by a memory gun.”

“Yes, I’m sure everyone knows that by now,” Patton replied scathingly.

Remy again didn’t react to the harshness in his tone. He just nodded. “Bet that’s hard for people who know him personally,” he said.

“What do you want?” Patton said and this time it came out more wobbly than harsh.

Remy sighed. “Patton go home.”

Patton shook his head and could feel pressure building up behind his eyes.

“Patton this is not the place for you today. I’ll tell Bev you’re sick. Just leave.”

“I…” Patton stuttered. “I can’t. I…” he started to shake, bursting at the seams. “I can’t,” he gasped, and he didn’t think he was talking about how he couldn’t leave work anymore. Remy leaned forward to tug him into a hug and Patton shattered like a window in a hurricane.

He could hear Remy saying things to him, but he couldn’t make out anything of the words except the soft sympathetic tone.

“A little girl fell out of the window,” he blurted out, unable to keep it in anymore, “and she was so tiny and so hurt and I had to cut into her with a knife so I could try to put her bones back together right and if I did anything wrong she might not ever be able to move right again. She could’ve died on the operating table and it would have been my fault. I shouldn’t have been the one to do it. Why did they pick me to do it? I’m not any good at this. I shouldn’t be here. I’ve just gotten lucky and one day someone isn’t going to wake up that should have and they’re all going to know how much of a fuck up I am. I can’t do anything right. I pretend and pretend to be good at things and nice and perfect but it’s all just an act and eventually everyone’s going to see it and they’ll all hate me. No one loves me and no one should love me and everyone who thinks they love me will eventually find out the truth and leave me because I can never be good enough no matter how hard I try.”

“Woah, hey, that’s not true Patton,” Remy said looking alarm. He was trying to wipe the tears off his face with his sleeve, but more just replaced them the next moment. “That’s so very not true. You’re not a screw up. You’re a great doctor and you’re not faking anything. So many people love you for you including me.”

Patton just shook his head. “You don’t know me,” he cried. “You don’t know me at all. The only person who I’ve ever even let really known me is Logan and I love him so much, but he doesn’t love me back, because I’m not good enough. And now he hates me.”

“No, no, Pat,” Remy said. “I know you’ve probably had a rough couple of days, but that man absolutely adores you. He could never hate you no matter what. He’s a dork who’s afraid of his feelings sometimes and he gets all pissy with strangers, but I know he doesn’t have it in him to hate you. No version of him ever could.”

Patton just laughed. “No. He doesn’t love me. Not really.”

“He does, babe. I promise he does.”

“I proposed to him,” Patton said. He managed to steady his voice, but tears were still streaming down his face. “He said no.”

Remy blinked and his mouth gaped open for a moment. “When…?”

Patton sniffled. “Two months ago.” It had been a soul draining, humiliating experience.

“How do you feel about marriage?” Patton had asked one day in bed after staying in Logan’s apartment for the third time that week. He had been thinking about it for a while and that day he’d blinked open his eyes to see Logan staring at him with the softest expression he’d ever seen on the man’s face and then Patton had been slowly and thoroughly kissed the rest of the way awake. It hadn’t even led to sex that morning, but Patton had thought he wanted to wake up like that every day forever.

“Marriage?” Logan had asked in response with a lilt to his tone that had made Patton swallow.

“Yeah,” he’d replied, “uh, specifically you marrying me.”

“Are you saying you want to marry me?”

“I… yes,” he’d admitted, but felt the need to backtrack, “but only if you want to.”

There had been a long pause and Patton had felt his heart shatter in it. “Give me some time?” he’d asked, but Patton had known that meant no. They had been dating for three years and he knew Logan had likely already made his decision about Patton long ago. He didn’t need more time. He was quick at making decision and he rarely went back on them. Patton had known him saying that meant Logan didn’t think Patton was good enough. That he hadn’t loved him enough to want to wake up next to him every morning. Patton had felt tears prickling at his eyes which wasn’t fair to him, so he’d turned away.

“Of course, sweetie,” he’d said as steadily as possible and that had been the end of the conversation.

“So yeah,” Patton continued in the present. “There’s something wrong with me and I… I don’t know what. If I did, I’d change it, but I can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s just all of me. Maybe he’s too smart and can see through all of the acts and knows how horrible I really am inside.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Remy said and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. “You are wonderful. I promise. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Want me to slap Logan for you? That might fix the problem.”

Patton chuckled darkly. “Which problem?” Remy grabbed his face and made him look him in the eyes.

“You need to go home,” he said firmly. “You need to take a bath and eat some ice cream and watch a sad movie so you can pretend you’re crying about that. Okay?”

Patton didn’t respond, just averted his eyes.

“Come on Pat,” Remy cajoled, “nurses orders.”

Patton smiled just a bit. “I’ll take the day off,” he conceded.

Remy frowned probably because he could tell that Patton was not going to follow the rest of his instructions because Patton was too rotted on the inside to listen to anyone’s advice.

He let Remy deal with telling people he’d be gone for the day and headed back to Logan’s apartment.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 11

[habibialkaysani]

the devil in star city (laurel/nyssa; t) - part vi

Ships: Laurel/Nyssa, Laurel/Joanna

Summary: “My name is Laurel Lance. When I was eight years old I was in a car accident that left me without sight. But in the process, my other senses were heightened.

By day, I am a defence attorney, ready to fight for justice in the courtroom on behalf of those who the law has failed. By night, I am someone else. I am something else.

I am Daredevil.”

A/N: Welp! I would say I can't believe it's been over a year since i updated this, but, uh, to call 2020 a complete and utter nightmare of a year would be the understatement of the millennium, let's be real. If you're still following this fic, I hope you are keeping as well as can be during these troubled times.

Please note that Laurel's alcoholism in this chapter is explored and talked about quite a bit, so fair warning for anyone who might be triggered by talk of addiction.

Read at AO3

Laurel's stomach growled in complaint as she lay on her bed, reading the braille version of The Complete Guide to the LSAT. It wasn't exactly light reading, and Laurel, so immersed in Legal Theory, couldn't quite remember if she'd had lunch, so she was thrilled when she caught a whiff of the aroma of pizza. 

Nyssa had to be maybe a couple floors down. Sure enough, a few minutes later Laurel heard the door click from where she'd left it open. 

“Got the pizza,” Nyssa said as she entered the dorm. 

“Nyssa Raatko,” Laurel said, shutting the book with a grin, “my hero.”

“You’re the one who's intent on trying to save the world. Why else would you be spending your afternoon poring over books when you could be wreaking havoc on campus with me?”

Before Laurel could reply, though, there was another voice. "Sorry - hope I'm not interrupting." 

Laurel hadn't heard Jo coming, for once not anticipating her familiar footsteps - and for good reason. Joanna should have been en route to Star City by now, surely.

Ever the gentlewoman (or flirt, it was hard to tell with Nyssa), Nyssa placed the pizza box on the bed and stayed on her feet. 

"Not at all," she said, extending her hand to Jo to shake. "I'm Nyssa. You must be Joanna. Laurel's told me so much about you." 

Joanna chuckled. "I bet she has. And… everything she told me about you seems to tally up." 

There was no reason for Laurel to be flustered, not really, but she was, in a way, unnerved by how her best friend was clearly sizing up her girlfriend. Laurel got hurriedly to her feet. "Hey, Jo. Did you forget something?" 

"Yeah, my criminal procedure notes. Just didn't realise until I got to the train station." 

Quickly Laurel reached behind her and found a sheaf of papers underneath Joanna's pillow. "These, right? We were going over them last night." There was a rustling sound as Jo took a look through them. Once Jo made a small sound of assent and began to unzip her backpack, Laurel moved towards Joanna and called back over her shoulder. "Nyssa, I'll be back in a minute, okay?" 

"Sure."

At least Jo had the good grace to wait until the front door clicked shut behind Laurel before she said anything. 

"Dinah Laurel Lance," she said, sounding half-amused, half-impressed. "Always did know how to pick 'em." 

"Meaning what?" 

"Meaning, she's hot, and so are you, so you two are a match made in heaven!" Laurel didn't say anything at first, mostly just relieved that the momentary awkwardness between them was indeed momentary. "I mean," Jo tried to backtrack, "all the, uh, girls must love that. And I am so glad the days of me being your wingwoman are over."

"You have to admit, you've never been very good at it," Laurel said. She hesitated, wondering if she should say what was on her mind, but she then remembered that Jo had a train to catch. "You'd better go. You're gonna be late." 

"Uh-uh. A train can wait. My best friend looking like she was going to say something important - that can't." 

Laurel felt a surge of love for Jo then. "You know I'd follow you off a cliff, right?" 

Joanna patted Laurel's cheek. "Damn right I do. Now, what's on your mind, Laurel?" 

"I guess - you're talking like I'm gonna be with her forever."

"Don't you want to be?" Laurel wanted to say yes without hesitation, but again, something was holding her back. Jo sighed, then said, "Okay, look -" 

"I can't see," Laurel said, and though exasperated (Jo had surely heard that one a dozen times by now) her words still elicited a laugh from Jo. 

"Listen, then - when you first told me about her, I thought it was just… you know, one of your - conquests, or something." 

"Or something," Laurel agreed. 

"But seeing you with her now - I realised something. You know, aside from being gorgeous as hell… she wouldn't look at you like that if she wasn't head over heels in love with you." 

The words "she's not in love with me" were hot on Laurel's tongue, but they faded and didn't quite make it out of her mouth. "I - how does she look at me?" 

"Like she can't believe her luck," Joanna said softly. "Like you're too good for her but you choose to be with her anyway." 

"I'm sure that's not -" Laurel started to say, but Joanna cut across her, probably more sharply than she intended. 

"Uh-uh. Remember, rule number one in Jo's Dating Handbook -" 

"- the teacher is always right," Laurel said, shaking her head in exasperation. "Whatever." Nevertheless, Joanna's words left Laurel feeling suitable chastised. 

"And remember rule number seventeen. For the love of all things holy - and I know that shit is important to you - try not to screw it up."

Laurel nodded. "Understood." But then she reached out, tugged at Jo’s sleeve. "This whole sage relationship advice, did you ever think about taking it?" 

Joanna laughed and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "Not even once." 

Chuckling fondly, Laurel opened the door to her dorm, where the smell of pizza grew stronger.

"Everything all right?" Nyssa asked, as Laurel slowly sat back down on the bed. Laurel knew, from the way the bedsprings creaked, that Nyssa had assumed Laurel's position, lying on her front, the pizza box instead of the LSAT book open in front of her. "You were out there a while. I was wondering if I had to start without you." And as if on cue, Nyssa's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. "Oh, I bet your bat ears loved that." 

Laurel tried to sound annoyed, but she didn't quite manage it, the corners of the mouth twitching into a grin despite herself. "They're not bat ears."

"Super ears," Nyssa suggested, and for good measure she reached out and tweaked Laurel's earlobe. 

"I kind of regret telling you about this," Laurel said, and they both shared a chuckle because they knew perfectly well that that wasn't true. Laurel had never been able to talk about this with anyone - bar Lia, that is, and it wasn't like that had ended well. "Now, give me my pizza." Nyssa obliged, passing Laurel a slice. "Oh yeah," Laurel said through a mouthful of mushroom and olive pizza, "that's the good shit right there. Jo - she's always so boring with her pizza choices. Always goes for margherita." 

There was quiet for a moment as they both ate, and then Nyssa said, "Hmm. Surprising when she strikes me as the adventurous type." 

"She is, just in weird ways."

"Like what?" 

"Like when she took Punjabi just because some girl she liked was taking it too. Not that she was great at it. But that's kinda what I love about her, to be honest." 

"Did you two always get along?" 

Laurel laughed. "Oh yeah. When I first got here, she was already in the dorm, enrolling into her classes, and I came in, introduced myself. Turned out she was from the Glades too. She grew up there, same as me. She - she heard about what happened to me, as a kid." 

"What did she say?" 

For a moment Laurel paused. "It wasn't too different to what you said when I told you what happened."

Now it was Nyssa's turn to laugh. "She said you were trying to save the world?" 

"She said I was a hero," Laurel said slowly. "She said that was how she knew who I was - how everyone in the Glades knew who Laurel Lance was. The kid who put her life on the line to save a stranger." 

"You don't agree?" 

"I don't know. Did I even save him? I don't know. I don't remember. And it's not like I willingly chose to get blinded to save some random guy - it's not the same, it just happened, and it's not like I saved my -" 

But now Laurel broke off, unable to finish her sentence with the sudden lump building in her throat, and instead she busied herself with finishing her slice. Nyssa didn't say anything, thank God, just kept eating. There was silence, the unexpectedly comfortable kind, interrupted only by the sounds of chewing, and the ripping of pizza as the two of them demolished what was left in the box, the quiet chuckles from both of them when they reached for the last slice at the same time. Laurel smiled as Nyssa got to it first, even more so when Nyssa tugged the slice in half and gave the larger piece to Laurel. 

After flinging the empty box somewhat unceremoniously onto the floor, Nyssa shifted forward a bit, until her head was buried in Laurel's lap. 

"She fancies you, you know," Nyssa said, just as Laurel began to stroke Nyssa's hair absentmindedly. 

"What?" 

“Joanna. She clearly has a thing for you."

"What makes you say that?" Laurel asked. 

"The way she looks at you." 

"If that were true - and I'm not gonna be the best judge of that - would that bother you?" 

"Oh, not at all."

"You're forgetting that I can hear your heartbeat, Nyssa," Laurel said, twirling a few strands of Nyssa's hair with her fingers. "Are you really jealous?" 

"Maybe a little," Nyssa admitted. "You must understand, relationships aren't exactly - my thing. It is simply not how I was built. This is new to me." 

"They're not really my thing either," Laurel reminded her. "Listen. She's my best friend and I love her to pieces. But my bed is small enough as it is. I think there's only room for you." 

"Okay." For a second Nyssa paused, and then she chuckled. "I never envisioned myself as the jealous type." 

"With me - it's more that I never saw myself as the serious type. Serious enough to make someone jealous, I mean." 

Laurel's words were greeted with silence as Nyssa took that in. 

"And now?" Nyssa asked finally. "Has anything changed?" 

"It's not like we've been together long -" 

"I've not been together with anyone before," Nyssa interrupted. "Not really. Apart from you. And that was not what I asked, but I get it. I do. Letting someone in… that's scary. Especially for people like us." 

Slowly Laurel let out a sigh of relief, as some of the trepidation that had been building up within her at Nyssa's every word started to dissipate. "People like us?" 

"Come on." Nyssa was smiling - Laurel could hear it in her voice. "We hide from ourselves. We don't let anyone get close to us."

"You. I let you get close to me." This was Laurel's moment. She could say it, say the three little words that were practically on the tip of her tongue. Laurel could say what she felt like she had to say, both with a certainty she could feel in her bones and with the startling realisation of the truth: Laurel loved Nyssa. 

This wasn't the old cliche of falling in love at first sight - that had never been befitting of Laurel. No, what she had with Nyssa was more like walking in love with her. Laurel usually kept people at bay, and usually the only one within arm's reach of her was Joanna. But with Nyssa - Laurel could feel herself walking steadily towards her. She had been drawn to Nyssa from the start. And now the distance between them was closing, each step Laurel took felt all the more thrilling and terrifying, in equal measure. 

If their relationship was a painting, things were looking good for them - there wasn't an end in sight, they were still in their early stages, of sketches and backgrounds. But to make that canvas beautiful, a great work of art, rather than a good one that would fade into mediocrity or obscurity - that required bravery. To make a good thing great, Laurel knew she needed some bold strokes. 

"Nyssa, I -" But of course Laurel couldn't get the words out, and in that moment she felt her mouth go so dry it was like she was tasting cotton wool on her tongue. 

"Are you okay?" Nyssa asked, her hand moving to cup Laurel's cheek. 

"Yeah," Laurel managed to say. "I, uh, I'm just tired, Nyssa. Sorry. I'm gonna - I'm gonna get ready for bed." 

"I can go, if you want." Nyssa didn't sound upset - just confused, unsure, and suddenly Laurel was thrown even more off balance. 

"Please don't," Laurel said, and it must have come out desperately, but Laurel was hit with this overwhelming feeling of just wanting to be held and nothing else. Taking Nyssa's hand, Laurel squeezed it. "I asked you to come over, remember? And I - I want you to stay. Please?" 

To Laurel's relief, Nyssa answered her with a kiss. "Of course. The things I do for you, dearest."

"Thank you," Laurel murmured, getting to her feet, and she couldn't help but smile as Nyssa followed suit, rummaging in Laurel's drawers for mere seconds before unearthing one of Laurel's t-shirts. 

*

Later that night, Laurel sat bolt upright in her bed, jolted unexpectedly from her dream, only realising when her hand met her damp hairline that she was drenched in sweat. 

The sound that woke her was a siren. She could hear it now, stopping and starting several times before the noise spluttered to life and assaulted Laurel's eardrums in relentless waves. It was too loud, everything was too loud, and even as Nyssa stirred vaguely next to her, Laurel wasn't in the present anymore - her dream had thrust her forcibly and uncomfortably into the past. The sirens grew louder, even though she could no longer hear the grind of the police car's engine, instead the clamouring of ambulances and the constant beeps of a hundred different machines. It was like she was a kid again in the hospital room with her comatose father, the shirt he fought his final fight in still clutched in her hand - 

"Laurel?" 

Gasping, Laurel realised from the ache in her neck and pain in the back of her head that she had fallen off the bed, and it was only then that she came to. Nyssa was by her side in an instant, trying to take Laurel's hand, but Laurel kept pulling away.

But Nyssa didn't let go, simply holding on tighter, and then pulling Laurel to her feet. 

"Can you walk?" Nyssa asked softly. 

"I - I think so." 

Laurel was a little unsteady, but she managed it, only realising from the gentle pressure that Nyssa was leading her to the door. "Where are we going?" 

"The roof," Nyssa answered. "I think you told me once that it's got one hell of a view." 

It was a bad joke, but Laurel chuckled nonetheless. 

"In the middle of the night?" 

"Just figured we could get your mind to be elsewhere if we are on top of the world for once. You and me." 

Laurel was silent, but she let Nyssa lead her up several flights of stairs. By the time they got to the top they were both panting. 

"This view - better be worth it," Laurel said breathlessly. 

"Oh, it is. The stars are fucking gorgeous tonight." Nyssa was already at the edge, and Laurel joined her a second later, leaning against Nyssa, who had brought up a blanket that she draped over Laurel's shoulders. 

"If you wanted to know what that was -" 

"You had a nightmare," Nyssa said calmly. "Happens."

"You're not gonna ask me why I -" Laurel broke off, though, because she wasn't even sure what to say. 

"Laurel, I learned weeks ago that if you wanted to share something with me, you would do so in your own time. Not when I demand it." At first Laurel didn't say anything in reply, and when the silence stretched on for a minute longer, Nyssa added quietly, "If it helps - the sirens keep me up at night too, sometimes. I can… only imagine how much that problem is amplified with you. Literally." 

Laurel shook her head. "It's not just that. I mean - that's part of it. All that noise brought back shitty memories."

"Of the accident?" Laurel must have looked surprised, because Nyssa's hand crept up to touch Laurel's cheek with an unexpected softness. 

"Not the accident. I've just been - dreaming a lot. About when my dad died."

"He was murdered," Nyssa said - and there was unexpected bluntness in her tone. 

"Yeah." Laurel's voice was small, and she wondered if she wanted to go on, or if she could. 

"Did they ever catch the bastard who did it?" 

"No. Never. I went after him once - Dan Brickwell is his name. But he went underground after my dad's death. Haven't heard about him since." 

"Let's hope he's six feet under, then." 

"Amen to that," Laurel said savagely, but instantly when Nyssa caught Laurel's had with her own, Laurel softened a bit. "Hey. I'm sorry, by the way."

"What on earth for, my love?" 

God. Laurel didn't know how Nyssa did that - how she managed to be so casually and unabashed affectionate in her words, without sounding scared even for a second. 

"I know I talk about heavy shit a lot. Sometimes it's all I talk about -"

"It really isn't," Nyssa interrupted. "And even if it is, you're allowed to talk about what traumatises you, because often that's all you can think about. Especially now. Especially with me."

"You're wrong," Laurel found herself saying. 

"What?" 

"You're wrong about my trauma being all I can think about. I mean - for a while it was. But now… now I have you." 

"You can have me as many times as you like," Nyssa whispered silkily. 

"I know that," Laurel said, and they shared a laugh. "But I meant that you're all I think about nowadays, Nyssa Raatko. I mean - you get under my skin like no one else ever has. You get me. And I've - probably told you more in the little time that I've known you than I've told anyone in my life before." I Laurel held her breath, waiting for the gentle fall of Nyssa breathing out, but it seemed like Nyssa too was waiting for the other penny to drop. "I guess… what I'm trying to say is - maybe, I think - I might love you." 

Laurel wasn't sure what to expect by her sudden confession, or what brought it on in the first place. Maybe it was the cool air fanning against her cheeks, the fact that the trip up the stairs let Laurel expel some of the pent up adrenaline that was disturbing her sleep, or the comfort she felt in Nyssa's body heat under the blanket they shared. 

But it still took Laurel aback when she felt a feather-light kiss on her forehead, then her nose, and then one that lingered on her lips. Laurel could taste Nyssa's smile, and if she were more optimistic, she could have anticipated that, just not the words Nyssa uttered next: "Maybe I might love you too." 

Several times Laurel opened and closed her mouth without managing to say anything, and when words failed her she grabbed a handful of the t-shirt Nyssa was wearing to kiss her hungrily. She got what Nyssa meant now, about being on top of the world, because that was how she felt taking Nyssa Raatko's breath away, and Nyssa, lifting Laurel off her feet, kissed her back, all of it quietly witnessed by the stars in the heavens above them. 

"Do you think that's crazy?" Laurel said eventually, her voice soft and wanting as she finally pulled away. Her lips were tingling, Nyssa's sharp intake of breath making Laurel's heart soar into the night skies. "I just - never thought I'd be that girl, you know? I thought being in love only happened in books and songs. But I am." Laurel smiled. "God knows it. He has for a while." 

"So you figured you'd let me in on the secret, huh?" 

"Something like that." For a moment Laurel paused, as another siren sounded - but it was a little quieter this time. More distant. Laurel was grateful for that, for the height they were at, that meant the wail that often echoed in her head faded a bit. Her head was a bit clearer, thankfully. 

"Mostly I was worried about what you'd say, when not even two months ago we were complete strangers… that it would scare you. Like it scares me. And that you'd - leave. Like people usually do with me." 

"I fear nothing about the two of us." Laurel's scepticism must have shown on her face, because then Nyssa caught her hand with her own and placed it on her chest. "Listen to my heart if you must. You know it's true." 

And of course Nyssa was right - the thud of Nyssa's heartbeat was steady as ever. Unexpectedly Laurel wrapped her arms around Nyssa, hugging her, burying her face into Nyssa's neck. "Thank you," Laurel said softly. "For sticking around. For not running when you could have." 

"If I'm running anywhere, it's with you," Nyssa replied, tucking Laurel's hair behind her ear. "I mean that. You're all I think about too." 

"Nyssa Raatko, are you getting soft on me?" 

"Maybe," Nyssa said, "but you'll never be able to prove it. Even when you're a hotshot lawyer." 

"You really think I'll get there?" Laurel asked, and a little bit of the floaty feeling Laurel had felt since Nyssa said those words back to her began to drift away. 

"I know so." 

"You can tell the future now?" 

"Of course I can. And I see a great one for you. And for me, after we get married…" 

"You think that will be legal by then?" Laurel asked as they began to head across the roof to the stairs that would lead them down, eventually, to Laurel's dorm. 

"... and we raise our kids behind that wonderful white picket fence -" 

"God, please, no, Nyssa. You know you'd die in the suburbs." 

"Sure, but you'd make an excellent mum. Though for everyone's sake, and their health, we should leave the cooking to me…" 

"I'll have you know I can make an excellent macaroni cheese -" 

Their good-natured bickering continued even as they took off at a run down the stairs, the blanket swishing like a cape on Laurel's shoulders. When they got back to Laurel's dorm, they collapsed on the bed together, sweaty limbs entangled. 

It didn't last that long, only a few golden hours, but it was enough at the time for Laurel.

***

A couple days later, it was once again the middle of the night. She didn't quite know how she got to where she was, cradling a bottle of whiskey with her back against Joanna's closet door - Laurel couldn't remember even getting out of bed, actually. She just knew, as it hit her, all at once, that she was going to bite the bullet and launch herself well and truly off the wagon. 

It was different, she told herself, from falling off the wagon, which Laurel thought sounded more accidental or unintentional. No. Laurel knew what she was doing and what she was walking into, and the phantom urge to follow the smell of booze and walk into a bar, or rummage through the stash Laurel knew Jo kept in her closet, grew stronger day by day. And in that moment she sat in darkness she knew surrounded her but couldn’t see. Slowly, she contemplated the conundrum she held in her hands in front of her, for the question really was to drink or not to drink, and she didn't know the answer. Laurel was not altogether surprised to hear the rustling of bedsheets and the sound of getting to her feet. Laurel waited, held her breath as she listened to Nyssa's soft footsteps on the rug - 

"Laurel?" 

"Why are you awake?" 

But Nyssa ignored the question. "Are you planning on drinking that, or did you buy the bottle just for you to cuddle?" 

Despite herself, Laurel couldn't stop the fleeting laugh from leaving her mouth. "You're saying that like you want me to." 

"No," Nyssa said calmly. "I'm asking if you want to." She paused for a second. "And maybe why." 

"What about you?" 

Nyssa scoffed. "You know I do not care for alcohol." 

"No, I mean, why? What's stopping you?" 

"I suppose it is a cultural thing. Some practices just stick with you for life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean where I come from… we viewed intoxicants with disdain. That and - I know that if I am constantly inebriated and dependent on it, that will affect my judgement, my memory, even my choices. Besides which - I despise the smell of alcohol. It is most unpleasant to me."

"I hate it too," Laurel admitted. 

"But -" 

"I know, I know, how can I be addicted to something I don't like? It doesn't make any sense. Like - I don't want to take so many steps backward that I'd be right back where I started. But I also - I need it." 

"Need what?" 

Laurel knew what she needed, and it wasn't an AA meeting or a hurried phone conversation with her sponsor - at least, in her head, all Laurel could think about was the burning feeling of whiskey going down her throat and exactly how much she craved it. She was thirsty for something, anything, that could fill this sudden, gaping hollow of sadness in her soul. She needed something to patch over the nicks of uncertainty in her heart. 

"You know when you get a paper cut? And you wait to see if it bleeds, and sometimes it's just a tiny thin red line, but it stings like hell, so you -" 

"- you squeeze it," Nyssa said suddenly. "Or you press on that bit of skin and make the pain worse for a second because…" But now, Nyssa trailed off, and it was the silent understanding that passed through them as Nyssa knelt by Laurel's side. 

"This is pain I need, Nyssa." Laurel thought of her father, of the blood that covered her fingertips when they reached his chest, the deathly smell that lingered beneath her nails for at least a week after he died. "This is the pain I deserve." 

“That’s not true.”

“How would you know?” she shot out bitterly, but she felt bad instantly. She edged further back and was surprised Nyssa didn’t come closer.

“I don’t need to hear your heartbeat to know when you’re upset about something,” Nyssa said - and she did so in a whisper so quiet that only Laurel would be able to hear. "Tell me what's wrong." A pause, and then, Nyssa added, "Please?" 

"It's nothing," Laurel insisted, but she was already softening: she held out her hand, lowered her defences just enough to let Nyssa in. "I just - yesterday was March 5th. When my dad died. And I forgot. How could I forget something like that? How - how could I be so caught up in my life that I -" 

"You're human, that's why. Despite what I may say about your super hearing," Nyssa said, gently tweaking Laurel's earlobe and finally getting a laugh from Laurel, "you are a mere mortal. You forget things, and then you remember. You have temptations, vices - and you find the strength, somehow, to resist them. And you look at yourself and think the worst because you see only your flaws, but then…" Laurel sighed at the feeling of Nyssa's fingertips, feather-light against her cheek.

"Then I find a beautiful girl at a party and ask her to dance," Laurel murmured. "No, I know. But it's more like - too much shit piled up.”

“I don’t follow.”

“There’s something else. About my dad’s death. The man who ordered the hit -" 

"Brickwell?" 

"Yeah. I heard on the radio while you were out getting stuff for dinner that he… he got out on a technicality." 

"I thought you said your dad's murderer was never caught?" 

"He wasn't. Brick doesn't get his hands dirty when he can avoid it. He was only in for a weapons charge, and even then they couldn't make it stick with the appeal."

"So now he's free?" Nyssa asked. Laurel just nodded hopelessly. 

"I got my hopes up, Nyssa. I thought that maybe the system did work. That the law would do what it was supposed to do, that there might actually be justice - even if not directly for my dad then for him being a - a -" 

"A complete and utter piece of garbage?" Nyssa suggested helpfully. 

"That’s an understatement. I just felt so helpless. And it got me thinking about what my dad would think, of me, of what I'm trying to do with my life. What he died for. If it was in vain when even now it seems like I'm fighting a losing battle." Laurel didn't realise until then that she was breathing shakily. "It got me thinking about whose fault his death really was." 

There was silence as Nyssa took this in, and there was no mistaking the incredulity in her voice. “Don’t tell me you actually blame yourself for his death?”

For a moment, Laurel didn’t say anything, simply moving her hand to enclose Nyssa’s wrist. Then, Laurel said, “Okay, then. I won’t.”

There was more silence, and for a second Laurel’s grip slackened on Nyssa’s arm, until Nyssa took hold of her hand with both of hers and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

“I told you he was killed. I never said why.” Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Laurel tried to collect herself, but the next words came as a sob. “It was because of me.”

She expected Nyssa to make excuses for her, in a futile attempt to absolve Laurel of the sins that haunted her. But Nyssa didn't do that. “How?” she asked instead, and her tone was level, steady, just like her heartbeat. 

"I overheard him once. When he was training in the ring and I was doing my homework - someone came to talk to him, wanting to fix the fight. And my dad -" Laurel's voice cracked for a second, and this time when Nyssa made to put her arms around her Laurel didn't stop her. "- my dad was Larry Lance. Always broke as shit, a single father, with a blind kid who needed expensive braille books. He had very few options. So of course he agreed. And on the night of the fight… he was getting ready, telling me not to wait up, and I -" 

"Oh, Laurel."

"I told him what I heard. I couldn't believe my dad was going to cave to the gangs in the Glades when he was always telling me I could make it a better place. And I got angry at him, Nyssa. I said he was being a hypocrite, that - one of the last things I said to my father was that he wasn't as brave as I thought he was. And because he listened to me… because he didn't lose like he agreed to - he paid the ultimate price. So it is my fault."

"So what?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"I don't think it was your fault, Laurel. But clearly you do. And I don't get to tell you what your truth is - I just want to know how you think you're going to find the answer to your guilt in that bottle." 

"I'm not looking for an answer. I'm -" Laurel searched for the words, finally settling on, "I have a lot of rough edges. A lot of that is guilt. The booze smooths them over a bit." 

"You say that. But you know that it won't last. And later down the line you'll have even more of the guilt for succumbing to something you've fought off for a year." Nyssa hesitated for a moment, then said, "I know I never met him, but - you're strong, Laurel. Stronger than you know." 

"You say that, but we tied last time we sparred." Laurel knew she was deflecting again, but she couldn't help it - her heart was aching and she felt rubbed raw with vulnerability. Nyssa seemed to sense this, cupping her cheek and running her thumb down Laurel's jaw. 

"My guess is that you were raised to be that way by your father. But also - the strongest metal is forged in the hottest fire, after all, and you found strength in the face of adversity, Laurel, and it's one of the things I love most about you." Laurel couldn't stop her smile if she tried now. 

"I wanna be brave, Nyssa. Like I told my dad to be. I just don't know how." 

"About your father… do you want to talk about him?" 

"Do you really want to know?" Laurel asked doubtfully. 

"Laurel. Darling. First off, daddy issues are definitely in my wheelhouse." 

"You and me both, sweetheart." 

"And second - you should know by now that I would gladly listen to you reading the Constitution if you really wanted to talk about it."

Laurel smiled, and as Nyssa got to her feet, Laurel did the same. She turned, opening Jo's closet door and placing the bottle back inside. Nyssa was waiting for her, and on impulse Laurel kissed her, taking Nyssa by surprise. 

"What was that for?" Nyssa asked softly.

"I love you,” Laurel whispered, “for everything that you are. And for not giving up on me." 

"I wouldn't dream of it." 

“That makes one of us.”

“One day it’ll be both of us.”

They got back into bed, Laurel's arm going around Nyssa's waist and pulling her close. 

"So, uh, did you wanna start with the separation of powers?" 

"Separation of what?" 

"Separation of powers into three branches of government?" Laurel said teasingly, and Nyssa made a few sounds of confusion. “I thought you wanted me to talk about the Constitution?”

“Oh, that’s what you were talking about!” The thing was, it sounded like Nyssa wasn’t even kidding, and that made Laurel laugh. "How about I tell you about my family, and you tell me about yours?" 

Come to think of it, Laurel didn’t know much about Nyssa’s family at all - just that she had a sister and that she was adopted. She wanted to know more about the woman she loved. 

"Deal." 

Tagging: @prett-ybird @mysunnyonesotrue @unusual-raccoon @avasharpe @light-miracles @nyssalance @saraa-lancee @nerd-spikey @i-should-be-asleep-probably @bioft @flyingofftoneverlandforgood

[erintoknow]

"Idiots, the both of you."

Fallen Hero Fanfic, minor spoilers for the Retribution sequel that’s in alpha?

MC and Herald, with a dash of Ortega at the end for seasoning. content warning for some suicidal scares? ~3k words

Daniel is trying, but he can’t deny feeling a little starstruck right now. Sidestep in the flesh, oh, sorry, ‘Ariadne’ now. She yelled at him every time he called her by her old hero name. But who could believe it? Still alive after all. An all too-real woman, in a pair of cropped black slacks, grey shirt visible under a pale army-green shawl that obscured most of her upper body. Tired green eyes framed by an uncombed frizz of reddish-brown hair that was kept in check with bobby pins. Daniel half expected her to be smoker, if only to complete the picture, but she had taken offense when he asked. Called it a filthy habit.

It had been a crazy gamble, asking. One-on-one training with his childhood hero? But, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Sure, the first couple sessions had been… rough, to be generous, but they were really falling into a routine now, Daniel thought. Hoped.

Those green eyes were now laser focused on him as he ran though his warm-up exercises. It was more then a little nerve-wracking actually. Like being a beetle in a glass jar. “Are you going to warm up too?” Daniel asks, hoping to break the silence.

Sidestep Ariadne shakes her head and shifts her weight from one hip to the other, arms crossed under her shawl. “I’m plenty warm, thanks, wonderbread.”

Daniel smiles at that and laughs. Laughter that quickly dies at the sight of the deepening frown on Ariadne’s face. “I wasn’t joking.” She says, then smirks at the expression on Daniel’s face. “A villain isn’t going to stand there while you do your morning crunches.”

“Good thing there’s no villains up here, right?” Daniel intends it as a joke, but there’s the quickest flash of something across Ariadne’s face, and it’s gone just as quick as it came. As she shifts her footing into a combat stance, Daniel wonders if maybe he just imagined it.

“Just try to hit me already, Herald.”

He takes a moment to center himself and then Daniel rushes forward. She always sidesteps his first attack so this time he’ll fake her out and come around the other side – only whoops, Ariadne stays put and just grabs his arm, pulling him forward and kneeing him in the stomach. Daniel floats backward, stunned for a moment as he catches his breath. “Did you…” he wheezes, “did you have to hit so hard?”

Ariadne taps her chin, considering. “No.” She answers. After a moment she relents and adds, “You keep making this same mistake. I say ‘attack me’ and then you, fool that you are, attack me.”

“What?” Daniel scrunches up his face. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Hit me.” Ariadne commands. Daniel stays still this time, floating a few feet off the ground, staring down at her. The smallest of smiles passes across Ariadne’s face. “Better.” She brushes back her hair with one hand, “Don’t follow your enemy’s script, make them follow yours.” She flicks her wrist and a bobby pin goes flying straight at Daniel’s head. He ducks down to avoid it and Ariadne is at his legs, she whacks the edge of her hand at the back of his bad knee. Daniel winces at the pain and reflexively kicks back, hitting her in the face as he pulls up and out of her reach.

Daniel looks down worriedly, he didn’t hit her too hard did he? She’s sitting flat on her butt, rubbing her face. “Are you alright?” He calls down.

Ariadne rolls her eyes, exasperation in her voice. “Goddamnit Herald, you don’t ask your enemy if they’re okay!” She gets up, hands on her hips. With the shawl covering her arms she makes for something of an angry green triangle.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Herald says in complete honesty, rubbing his knee and staying safely out of reach.

Ariadne rubs her temples. “What do you think happens in a fight, Herald?”

Now it’s Daniel’s turn to be frustrated. “I know what a fight is, Ariadne, and it’s not this.”

“The moment you had me on the ground, you should have followed-up and pressed your advantage. Instead you pulled back and gave me a chance to recover.” Ariadne flicks her wrist, Daniel ducks his head but no bobby pin appears. “There’s no such thing as ‘playing dirty.’ Only fights you walk away from and fights you don’t.” She pointedly turns her back to him as she walks towards the edge of the roof.

“Ariadne?” Daniel calls after her, he always gets a little nervous when she does this. Something about her and edges. She wouldn’t really… would she? He hovers down closer, staying just out of arm’s reach, just in case this is another ‘lesson.’

It hurts a little to see her like this, he thinks. It’s obvious something bad happened during the Heartbreak Incident even if he can’t get a straight answer out of anyone. Trying to pry out more information about what happened is like pushing open a vise with your bare hands. Instead, he says: “I was hoping for training, Ariadne, not to beat the crap out of each other.”

“Yeah, well,” Ariadne doesn’t turn to look at him. “Fighting isn’t pretty, and if you haven’t figured that out by now, you’re hopeless. People break bones,” Daniel rubs his leg, “bleed everywhere, sometimes there’s a lot of tears and crying and you can’t always tell what’s yours. At the end of the day, there’s nothing heroic about breaking a man’s ribcage just because the alternative is him chopping you and a dozen other people to bits.” Ariadne shifts on her feet, body otherwise rigid, and Daniel tenses, ready to swoop forward. She crosses her arms, hugging herself. “People just die, and die, and die, and you pray you aren’t going to be one of them.” 

Daniel raises a hand in an offer of comfort, “Hey… are you alright?”

Ariadne ignores him and sinks to her knees hugging herself under her shawl with her eyes screwed shut. Daniel watches with an increasing sense of alarm, he moves to get beside her, just in case, only to freeze mid-motion.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Ariadne hisses, and Daniel staggers backward, off balance. She shudders and shakes her head back and forth violently a few times. When Ariadne finally looks over and sees the mixture of concern and confusion on his face, she grimaces. “Look. Lesson’s over for today. Sorry. No refunds.” She slowly gets to her feet, movement stiff and robotic.

Daniel shakes his head, a deep unease twisting his gut. “Okay. Seriously, what just happened there? Did I say something wrong?”

Ariadne makes a brisk pace for the rooftop service door. “It’s nothing. Forget about it. In fact: forget about training altogether.” She jiggles the door, it’s locked. She kicks the bottom of it. “Mierda!”

Daniel doesn’t move after her this time, instead staying put as he calls after her, frustration pushing aside the fear worming its way through his gut. “Talk to me Ariadne. Something’s clearly wrong, you’re worrying me.”

Ariadne wheels on him, eyes wide, hands clenched. “I don’t owe you jack shit Herald! I’m only up here in the first place because of you. And now I’m– I’m trapped here.” She shakes her fists at the sky, him, the world.

Daniel raises his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay. You’re upset. I’m sorry.” He says, and means it. “I’ll just… take you back down to the street then and we’ll call it a week?”

“No!” Ariadne clutches her head. “Nobody else is touching me today!”

Daniel stays still, ever so slightly off the ground, hands still raised, ready to move if she–

Ariadne looks up at him, sees the expression on his face and sags. The fear in Daniel’s gut subsides a little. “Goddamnit,” she whispers, “I don’t need a second fucking Ortega.”

“Can we…” Daniel hesitates, “can we talk now?”

“Free country.”

“Did you…” He thinks for a moment, knows he needs to pick his words carefully. “Was that an… attack?”

Ariadne’s response is immediate. “I don’t want to talk about that.” She turns back to the roof door, examining the lock.

Daniel frowns, “But you just said–“

“You don’t need to understand. It’s none of your business Herald." She doesn’t turn to face him, her nails digging into her palms. “I’m sorry, how did you think this was going to go, exactly? What were you expecting? To have your fearless hero leap out of the tv screen? Well, surprise!” She waves her hands. “She doesn’t exist! I’m not that! I never was! We can’t all be perfect TV Stars, Herald!! And now I’m a washed-up has-been that doesn’t know when to leave things well enough alone!” She kicks the door again.

Daniel grinds his teeth as he listens, “Ariadne, even if that was true, that’s not why I asked for your help!”

That gets her to look back at him, eyebrow raised in unveiled skepticism.

“Well, okay, maybe it was a part of it–” he backtracks, a tinge of red creeping up his face, “but it’s not the main reason! I was serious about needing training! This new villain, Puppetmaster, or Ghost or whatever–“

“Adrestia.”

“–That. I told you. I need help if I’m not going… If I’m not going to screw up again.” He stares her down, willing her to believe him.

“You really are serious about this?” Ariadne asks, not meeting his gaze.

“Yes!” Daniel says, frustration boiling over.

“100% dedicated?”

“Yes!!”

Ariadne turns back to the door, “Welp, sucks to be you then.”

It takes Daniel a moment to respond, “Excuse me?”

“What’s your tragic backstory? Wife got murdered? Lost your parents? Come on, every hero has one.” Ariadne kicks the door again then turns back to Daniel. “No one willingly throws themselves at people who shoot lasers out of their eyes or have knives for hands who doesn’t want to die at some level.”

Daniel flinches, the barb hits a little too close to home, he tries to push it aside. “You don’t really think all this, do you?” He asks. Pleads, really. 

Ariadne laughs, short and sharp as broken glass. “Maybe I do! Maybe I don’t. Who knows anymore.”

The conversation lapses into awkward silence. Ariadne, giving up on the door for now, slides down with her back against it. She tilts her head up to stare at the sky. Daniel stays put, floating awkwardly. This isn’t how he expected his morning to go today. He understood Ariadne had obviously… changed since her hero days. but after that first conversation and her agreeing to help him, he had hoped that maybe… working with her, he could help… fix things? Somehow?? That’s what heroes do, right?

Well, here she was how, looking even more tired and run down then he had ever seen her at the Ranger’s HQ. Some kind of panic attack she refused to talk about or even acknowledge. Maybe she was right, maybe it had been a mistake to ask her for help. Did he just make things worse? Had he pressured her into it, somehow? He had just wanted to maybe get to know her–

“God, you think too loud.” Ariadne rubs her temples with one hand, the other tracing some repetitive pattern into her pant leg.

Daniel’s face reddens. “I’m… sorry?”

“You should be.” She shakes her head. “I’m embarrassed for you. Fighting a telepath and you can’t even put a lid on it.”

Daniel sees the chance to change the topic and grabs it. “That’s possible?”

Ariadne shrugs, noncommittal. “Obviously.” She says in that tone of voice meant to make Daniel feel dumb for even asking. “There’s ways… techniques, work-arounds. Little walls you can put up to make it that much harder.”

“What do you do?” He drifts closer, careful not to get too close.

She doesn’t look at him at first as she talks, “It’s a little different for me since I’m the one… hearing.” Her voice picks up in enthusiasm, “but I guess it works basically the same. You want something that can occupy your uh, I don’t know the professional terms, I’m not a damn doctor, but your surface level thoughts?”

Daniel thinks about this, and then taps the side of his skull. “Like when you talk to yourself in your head?”

Ariadne nods. “You use that as a smokescreen, or chaff or whatever, and it makes everything underneath harder to read. …or other people’s thoughts harder to hear.”

Has she ever talked about this with anyone before? Daniel wonders. Well, at least she’s actually talking to him now. “Couldn’t you also use that to like… misdirect? Get them thinking you’re going to do one thing but actually be planning the opposite?” Carefully, he sits down across from her, safely out of arm’s reach.

“Yeah,” Ariadne looks at Daniel, begrudgingly impressed. “That’s a lot harder to pull off in the middle of a fight than it sounds, but yeah? I’m simplifying all of this, by… uh, a lot, by the way. But that’s what it comes down to.”

Daniel’s quiet for a moment, weighing the idea. “Maybe I’d better start with the small stuff first then. What do you usually do for a, ah… smokescreen? –wall?”

Ariadne stares him straight in the face. “…If I tell you. And you laugh. I’ll fucking murder you.”

Daniel raises his hands, “I won’t laugh.” He smiles nervously. She’s… she’s just being hyperbolic, right?

“I’m dead serious, flyboy.”

“…Me too.” He answers, willing his voice not to squeak.

“I use music.” She stares at her lap, tense.

“Wait, like–” Daniel scratches his head, biting back a smile at the image going through his head. “So, you’re just constantly singing? In your head I mean.”

Ariadne shifts her gaze back at him, eyes narrowed. “I warned you…”

“No! No! I’m not laughing, it’s cu–“ he stops himself in time. “I’m just surprised it’s that simple?”

She shakes her head. “Try it while fighting three guys with guns and keeping your focus enough to still read their movements and while blocking out the crowd of panicked bystanders.”

“Okay. That does sound harder.” Daniel admits, Ariadne shrugs so he continues, “but I only need to worry about keeping a telepath out, right? So that’s not as complex, right?”

Ariadne’s response is dry. “Lucky you,” she says.

“Do you think, maybe, we can practice that next week?” He looks at her, not hiding the concern in his voice.

Ariadne huffs, the mask of disdain slamming back down.“Do you think you can pick a training area that doesn’t leave me trapped on top of a fucking building?”

Daniel scratches his head, “I… can try to get the roof access key, at least?”

“And I expect at least a milkshake as compensation.”

“I can work with that.” Daniel hazards a smile, and when it’s not immediately shot down,  progresses into a genuine grin.

———

“So. Ari.” Ortega eyes Ariadne from across the break room, arms behind her back. “You seem to be getting along better with Herald now?”

Ariadne crosses her arms as she leans back against the wall. “What of it?”

Ortega smiles back as she closes the door behind her. “Nothing, I’m just pleasantly shocked is all, given how you always got so upset by his fanboying over you.”

She makes a face like she just bit into a lemon. “It’s not like I’m training him for free. I’m making him pay for it.”

Ortega blinks in surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah. In milkshakes.”

Ortega takes a second, then laughs. “Oh! I thought you were serious for a moment there.”

“I’m always serious.” Ariadne retorts, stone-faced save for the slightest uptick of a smile. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Me?” Ortega huffs in exaggerated offense, “Jealous? Of what?”

Ariadne doesn’t laugh, and to Ortega’s relief doesn’t go with the obvious follow-up. “It doesn’t bother you that you got replaced as the face of the team with the blond-haired, blue-eyed whitebread boy wonder?”

“Ari! Don’t be mean! Herald’s a good kid” Ortega laughs, then after a moment sighs. “People will think whatever they want. I didn’t want to do it anymore anyway, after… you know. Let Herald take the spotlight.” She sidles up next to Ariadne, entirely too close. “That leaves me free to… take other things instead.”

Ariadne’s ears burn red as she hunches her shoulders, trying to hide her face in her shawl. “Julia…”

Ortega considers teasing her more but decides to cut to the chase instead. “Anyway, Herald asked me to pass this on?” Ortega says it innocently enough as she holds out the bag she’d been hiding behind her back.“I think he was a little too embarrassed to just hand it over himself.”

Ariadne looks at the bag, frowning, brows furrowed. “Huh? That’s weird.” She delicately takes the bag from Ortega, as if it could explode at any moment.

Ortega looks at her expectantly. “Well? I want to see what’s inside.”

That gets a withering look from Ariadne. “Like you don’t already have your hands all over this.”

“I had nothing to do with it. Scouts honor.”

“I–“ Ariadne frowns, “were you in Scouts?”

“Oh, just open the bag Ari!”

“Alright, alright, fine, geez.” Ariadne sighs, and sticks a hand inside the bag, pointedly not looking inside. Her hand feels out the shape of a box, and she pulls it out.

“Well?” Ortega prompts her.

Ariadne studies the image on box in quiet confusion, “It’s… a walkman tape player…? With headphones?”

“He said it was to help you concentrate? I couldn’t get him to explain what that that meant though.” Ortega searches her expression for any clues.

“Oh.” Ariadne says, her voice small. “Huh.”

“There should be a couple of tapes in the bag too. So, full honesty, I did gave Herald some genre suggestions. I had wanted to be more hands on, but…” Ortega makes a face, “I’m banned from every electronic store in the state by now.”

Ariadne keeps staring at the box. “This is… very… thoughtful…?” She chokes out the words like it’s a foreign concept. Carefully she puts the box back in the bag, her voice wavering. “I– I can’t take this.”

“I told you Ari,” Ortega wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. Ariadne freezes for a moment, then relaxes, leaning back against her. “People care about you. It’s okay to let them.”

She frowns at that, “Idiots, the both of you.”

[oceanmastertrash]

the tides know our names- 10/?

gif by @kingsorm

Summary:  -takes place after the movie- Orm is working with Arthur to try to help Atlantis move forward when Elara has a vision of his death. As part of an order of Atlanteans dating back to the reign of King Atlan known as Tidewatchers, it is her duty to warn the king of her vision. Predicting and reading the future through the tides of fate has never been easy but Elara is in for the challenge of a lifetime working with her former king to save his life.

Part: 10/?

Word Count: 3,868

Warnings: alcohol use

Read on Ao3 / start from the beginning

“Tonight,” she said, “I want us to drink and if we’re feeling festive maybe actually talk to each other.”

He was still highly unhappy and hesitant as hell, but, to his credit he followed her into the kitchen to look at their collection of alcohol.

“Where do we start?”

-

Elara’s first order of business was to find glasses. She’d only been out drinking once so was unfamiliar with any etiquette surrounding which glasses to use. She remembered seeing a myriad of shapes and sizes at the bar Madren had taken her and the other apprentices to but Elara was only really familiar with the large glass her drink had come in. Madren had explained to them all that Atlanteans had a higher tolerance to alcohol than the average surface dwellers due to their increased metabolism and advanced healing.

Madren hadn’t wanted the girls to get black out drunk but thought it might be a fun experience for them to at least get a little past tipsy. About 6 of those glasses of something called beer had done the trick and Elara had felt delightfully bubbly and tingly all over. So, surely a similar number of glasses would do the trick for her and Orm.

She had no idea what exactly she had drank all those years ago so she had just grabbed what sounded interesting when she’d gone to the store. Now, with Orm’s help she poured out glasses for each of them of a few options and then they took their many glasses to the coffee table in the living room to try.

She’d had no idea how much variation there was or how they could all taste so different. They spent the first round comparing and contrasting the tastes of things like Moscato, Whiskey, Rum, and Vodka. Neither of them thought the vodka or whiskey tasted very good but she liked the sweetness of the moscato and he enjoyed the coconut flavor of the rum she’d bought.

When they moved onto the second round she began to feel tingly but perhaps stronger than the last time she’d drank. She didn’t mind it though and Orm actually seemed interested in their taste testing and wasn’t showing what signs of inebriation that she knew of so they kept going. They ran out of the large glasses they were using and decided it would be less wasteful if they just reused the ones they already had as they revisited their favorites

By their third or was it the fourth trip to the kitchen to get refills, Elara was very decidedly affected a great deal more than she’d anticipated.

Orm seemed so too because, though his stare was very intense in meeting her eyes, he was actually talking her and, if she wasn’t mistaken, making jokes. Yes, several were about the surface but she’d take it over that damn pacing he’d been up to all week. Did he have any idea how hard it was to concentrate when he did that?

She was actually having a good time. Sitting on the couch next to him she felt comfortable and he almost seemed to feel the same. The third time their arms brushed while getting drinks or repositioning on the couch, Elara decided a distraction was in order. So she impulsively thought she might try joking with him. The rational part of her brain was telling her to not spook him but it was being overruled by inebriation.

“How many tidewatchers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” She asked but as soon as she said it, she was hit by worry. Would he even get the concept of changing a lightbulb?

Unphased, or perhaps due to the influence of alcohol, he leaned in with a slight smile and asked, “how many?”

A little buzz rolled through her but she tried to clamp down on it by closing her eyes in mock meditation, holding up her hands before answering in a loopy voice, “why, however many the tides portend my child. We are just an instrument of the patterns of fate. Who are we to say how many of us shall be called to the task?”

It was not a particularly funny joke but he still let out a bark of surprised laughter. Elara couldn’t think of a time she’d heard him laugh before and the sound was positively intoxicating.

Eager to repeat the experience, she asked, “Wanna hear another? It’s even less funny.”

He downed another drink before looking to her again, their thighs brushing as he leaned in, “Tell me.”

She had to quickly wrack her scattered mind to remember what she had been saying. “Okay, this is more of an inside joke but whatever. Alright, so everyone knows the tidewatchers are supposed to watch the tide- like the tide is a child and they are the ones looking after it. BUT what no one knows is that the child is actually triplets-fate, time, and the ocean specifically. So everyone is like ‘they’ve got it. It’s only one kid’ but it’s not! The tides are triplets that only speak in riddles and they hate us.”

Orm was grabbing another drink and she snorted to herself, “I’m sorry that wasn’t very funny. It was more of a ramble than a joke.”

He handed her another glass and held up his own, his eyes almost seeming to sparkle at her. “it was still a funny ramble.”

Elara took her glass and had a long gulp, not even caring what it was he had handed her. He was just sitting so close to her. All of that nervous energy of the last few days had not only not gone away with the drinks but instead it seemed to have multiplied. This was never more obvious to her than when she was suddenly gripped with the urge to touch his arm.

Instead of letting herself explode like a volcano of awkwardness, she just kept going. “Want another joke?”

“Do I dare?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and she honestly wanted to slap him for that look. Seven seas, what was the matter with her?

“You probably shouldn’t,” she said frankly. “This one isn’t much funnier.”

“I’ll risk it,” he said with a smirk.

Taking a breath, realizing she could just be opening up a can of worms she said, “Wanna know what the tidewatchers see when there is too much to see? Mud.”

He got this adorable little scowl on his face, “Wait what?”

“Not actual mud,” Elara backtracked. “But like figurative mud. And that’s our problem with you. There is so much that could happen that instead of seeing any of it, we see mud.”

Orm put his drink back down, not moving as fluidly as he usually did, seeming to have to try a little harder to concentrate on her, “My future is mud?”

“Okay, bad example.” Elara put her face in her hands, groaning, “Ugh, I can’t think of good examples right now. What’s another word for muddy other than mud?”

“Dirty?” He asked.

Elara looked up to see the funniest expression on his face which caused her to immediately start giggling. “No! Not dirty!”

“But not muddy either?”

She shook her head wiping her eyes, “No, not muddy either. Bad word.”

They seemed lost in thought for half of a minute while they struggled with synonyms.

She then snapped and pointed at him as an answer came to her, “Aha! Wibbly!”

“Wibbly?” it was his turn to laugh. “Wibbly is not a word.”

“It’s as close to a word as I can think of right now,” she said waving her hand. “Anyway, the word is not the point. The point is that you, my prince, are an absolute contradiction of tidewatching. You have so many possibilites before you that we can’t see diddly.”

She expected him to comment on her second made up word choice but instead he looked at her with a confused expression. She took another sip. “Told you it wasn’t funny.”

He didn’t remark on that, clearly trying to figure out what she’d said and obviously the alcohol was not helping. “What do you mean?”

She put down her nearly empty glass and swiveled on the couch so her back was against the arm and she was facing him fully, one leg pulled up between them. “I mean we can’t see because you are at a crossroads. Like a massive divergence of paths. There is so much possible goodness and grief that can happen that we can’t see any of the paths. Everything is just so twisty and complicated that it’s impossible to sense where you’re headed. So, in a word: wibbly.”

She expected him to laugh, wanted to hear him laugh again but instead he asked, “Is that why you can’t see anything else about what’s going to happen?”

“Yep.” Elara answered, leaning back into the couch, trying to settle into this new conversation. “Calysa is surprised I even saw what I did. And I mean, it’s helped knowing that at least but like it’s driving me nuts that this isn't like normal visions. I can’t get anymore glimpses at the patterns. I feel like I’m trying so hard to fix this but I don’t even know what’s broken.”

Elara huffed in annoyance as she looked at the coffee table.

“Why are you trying so hard?” Orm asked her.

She looked to him abruptly. He had to be joking. Were they doing that again? But no, one look at his face and she could see that, while looser than he ever normally was, he spoke with real confusion.

“What?” was all she could manage at the abrupt change in pace.

He turned to face her more directly as well.

“Why go through all this?” He motioned around the cottage and to himself, his arms unfocused in their gesturing, less controlled than normal. “Why come all the way up here to help save someone you don’t even like?”

Thinking of all the times the last few days she’d had to work so very hard not to focus on how attractive he was, she spluttered. “Why do you think I don’t like you?”

He scoffed. “Please, we hardly met under the best circumstances. You all but said I was a lousy king.”

Elara waved her hands in front of her, “You’re getting all this from that? Orm, that was ten years ago!”

He shifted, fully facing her now, very confused at her reaction to what he thought was a simple statement. “Maybe it was but it was still a very memorable encounter. It took you four years to come to the palace again.”

“Yeah! ButI did come back! I got over it” she argued. “We were both young then and still so new to our crafts that neither one of us handled it well. Sure, I’d thought you were just a pompous royal back then but I don’t anymore.”

“You don’t?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“No, I don’t. Was our first meeting awful? Yes. But things changed. You aren’t the same person you were back then and thankfully, neither am I.”

Orm didn’t agree with most of that but he was still trying to wrap his head around it. Finally, bitter, he said, “I still wasn’t a good king.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Elara said, dead serious and distinctly more sober than she’d been just a moment ago. “You worked so hard for your people and most importantly, you were willing to learn and grow. You wanna know when I stopped thinking of you as a lousy king? Three years after we met when the western quadrant of the old city collapsed.”

His mind was whirring, trying to sift through his alcohol-addled mind, trying to remember what about that event could have changed her mind.

Rather than leave him guessing, Elara filled in the blanks. “The tectonic plates under us had begun shifting. There was fear in the city that there would be more collapse of the other parts of the ruins. Since they were essentially our foundation, there was a lot of panic. But, decidedly the people at greatest risk were those of the lowborn. While most of the high born either didn’t care or proposed relocating to Xebel while the scientists solved the problems, you actually were doing something. You worked to find other housing for those in the most danger as well as those whose homes had been destroyed in the first collapse. And then you came to the Tidewatcher council.”

Orm just stared at her. So much had happened since then, he hadn’t thought about it in so long. He remembered what she was talking about though. He had still been new to his reign and as such he had much to prove. He remembered the pressure to appease the high borns but he had stubbornly wanted to think bigger picture. He wanted to help the whole city, not just those with titles.

Elara continued, “Even though you were still unsure about the tides- no thanks to me- you still came to the temple to seek advice in how best to help your people. I was still an apprentice and not on the council but I was outside the council chamber and I’d heard what you said. I heard you listen to them and then you actually did something with what they told you. You stabilized the city and helped a lot of people without letting your ego get in the way. That impressed me.”

Orm was honestly speechless, and truthfully, inebriated as she was, he could have heard her talk for a great deal longer. Thankfully, she took his silence as prompting to keep going.

“You took steps to be your own king and not just a copy of your father. No matter what was at stake, he never listened to us but you did on things big and small. You may not have liked what I had to say, but you listened to the others which was why I eventually came back again.” Elara laughed bitterly to herself. “Though honestly, you weren’t the only one who’d been wrong when we met. I’d been so confident and sure about what I’d seen and yet, I never saw another blip of that pattern. It never happened.”

Orm tensed. He wanted her to keep talking, to keep saying nice things about him for once but it was if there was a rotten beast gnawing at him, a guilt he wanted to banish. So, before he could think better of it he said, “You weren’t wrong. It did happen.”

Elara had been looking at the glasses before them when she slowly turned her gaze on him once more. “What?”

“That pattern you saw back then, about me making a deal with a surface dweller and causing pain for my people? It happened.”

As many questions as she had, she could sense how hard this was for him and didn’t want to stop him. She felt like he needed this. So, for a change she was quiet as she waited for him to continue.

“Nine months ago, after the Atlantean settlement in the North Sea was poisoned and murdered by an oil leak, I decided I needed to stop the surface dwellers once and for all. No one else seemed to take the threat seriously enough and since I couldn’t declare war without the other tribes I decided I would convince them of the danger. I found a mercenary from the surface and used him to show what a threat the surface could be.”

He didn’t dare look at her but quickly downed another gulp as he continued.

“It started out slow, just more instances of humans where they shouldn’t be and endangering us. I always controlled things enough so that there was no real danger but it had to look real. Then I finally arranged for the surface dweller to attack my summit with King Nereus using a human war sub. And it worked, the plan worked perfectly until Mera betrayed me for Arthur. I won’t pretend that I loved Mera the way that Arthur seems too but her betrayal stung, perhaps because I should have seen it coming but didn’t want to.”

He wanted to pause, to slow down, to keep this last shame to himself, to not let Elara see him like that. But the truth was, she already had. She’d seen him betray his own people years ago and she’d still agreed to this. Some desperate part of him wanted to tell someone, wanted to tell her, if for no other reason than it might convince her to give up the foolish mission she’d put herself on. She needed to know the truth if she was going to stay here with him.

“I ordered the surface dweller to kill Arthur and Mera and I gave him Atlantean tech to do it. And now? Now I’m glad I failed. Arthur is better than just a half breed. He’s no king yet but he shows compassion I’ll never understand. Though perhaps we have our mother to thank for that. I’m glad I failed for her sake most of all.” Finally he looked to Elara, “It’s worse than you had first seen isn’t it?”

He’d always thought Elara to have an open face, her expressions and thoughts dancing in her eyes but they were silent now. No hint of what she felt was betrayed as she studied him. Then, slowly she leaned forward, and to the surprise of both of them, she took his hand. “No, it’s not.”

He wanted so badly to look in her eyes, to see what she was thinking but he found himself utterly transfixed at the sight of their joined hands. He’d never held hands like this before. There had been times during his betrothal to Mera that he’d held her hand at royal functions- but that’s all it had been: a function and a duty. There’d been no real affection or connection there. It was an act to show strength and unity between their peoples without ever giving him a sense of either. He’d never felt any fraction those times of what he was feeling now.

She was holding his hand and he had no idea why. Finally, almost warily, he looked up at her, still acutely aware of the feeling of her hand in his.

She surprised him by smiling like she had earlier when she’d told her awful jokes. “Okay, so trying to have your brother killed was bad. Like real bad. Not even gonna downplay that. And trying to provoke a war between the sea and the surface was also really bad- but!” she said just when he was about to hang his head in shame. “You know why this isn’t worse? Because you know it was bad. Because you recognize that you messed up and are willing to learn from your mistakes.”

He found himself looking back at their hands as if surprised hers was still holding his, hardly able to absorb what she was saying but then something in her voice made him look back to her.

“You have been working so hard the last few months to help Arthur be a better king. You have been making sure nothing important slips through the cracks. You could have just sulked in your cell and refused to help. You could have just kept holding on to your righteous indignation but you didn’t. You are actively trying to make up for your mistakes and that counts for a lot.”

He couldn’t stop staring at her, her amber eyes alight with passion. She really was beautiful and as difficult as the past few days had been he appreciated that she hadn’t given up on him even when he’d wanted to give up on himself. Their faces were less than a foot away now and he couldn’t stop staring at her lips. She was positively maddening.

“That is why I’m trying so hard, “She said, “because you’re still worth saving. You’re not done yet.”

She found it was harder than it should have been to maintain her train of thought. He was just so close though. Her bent knee resting up on his thigh, their hands still clasped on top it. And his beautiful blue eyes were so open and honest and damn it, he was looking at her lips and that was distracting as all get out.

She wanted for them to keep talking, to keep hearing him say what was really going on with him, to feel this strange sort of connection between them grow. But Atlan help her she also wanted to kiss him so bad.

She knew it was a bad idea but everything was so flowy between them and she felt fizzy inside. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the nerves or the way he was looking at her, but then the dam burst and she was done fighting it. Not allowing herself to think, she leaned forward and closed the remaining inches between them until her lips met his.

It was such a simple thing, such a light contact but Elara knew nothing about this was simple. Orm stiffened beside her in shock and Elara mentally cursed herself. But, just as she began to pull back, mortified, he moved, turning to face her better as his lips pressed into hers.

That was all the invitation she needed so she she leaned back in. The hand that was not currently entwined in his reached out to hold onto his shoulder. He leaned into it, his lips moving with hers. It was sloppy and graceless but it was so magnificent all at once. His other hand was on her thigh and she just about melted at the contact.

But then, of course, as she shifted to get a better angle, her foot grazed one of the glasses on the table and she jolted, ending the kiss to catch the glass before it fell. Then she saw all the empty glasses on the table and the moment officially ended for her.

Immediately, she pulled back; suddenly needing space between them if she was to keep her hands to herself. He had a startled look on his face but she couldn’t look at him anymore. Though it pained her, she finally dislodged her hand from his and stood up.

“It’s late,” she said as if that was all the explanation needed. She looked at the glasses again and flinched internally. “I’m going to bed. You can put those in the kitchen and I’ll clean them tomorrow.”

His face a clear display of confusion, he stood up with her. He had no idea what was happening but didn’t know how to stop her from leaving.

Fruitlessly he said, “Elara-”

But she cut him off, a strained expression on her face, as she rapidly began to head to the hallway and her bedroom, “It’s fine. Goodnight Orm.”

Orm was left standing there, his lips still alight with the feel of hers. His hand tingling with the loss of contact and the unmistakable feeling like he’d done something wrong.

What the hells had happened?

Author's Note: heh heh. yeah this might be my favorite chapter so far. and it's by far the longest. Like it's over a thousand words longer than the previous longest chapter and I regret nothing. I know some people were hoping for a bit more action but considering I wasn't even planning to write a kiss this chapter I say we're good. I have just loved writing their bond and chemistry developing and this chapter really helped. But let's just say we've still got a long way to go. And I post more regularly on ao3 so be sure to check this story out over there.

[mae-i-scribble]

Experimental Chp 5

Summary: Toffee took both Star and Marco in Storm the Castle. After months of imprisonment and experimentation, they have escaped, but not without scars. Each have a half of the wand infused in their chests, along with the strange ability to turn into beasts, but both are left with little memories besides for their names. Not accepted by human or monster, they must fight for their survival while trying to regain the fragments of the lives they were torn away from.

Link to Prologue:      https://marleymaely1234.tumblr.com/post/162144555257/experimental-prologue-a-star-vs-the-forces-of

Warning: Mentions of blood, torture, experimentation, and suicidal thoughts. 

Star dreamed in colors mostly. A swirl of hues and tones as they shifted and twisted their way around her. Sometimes they were joyous, other times they were dark and ominous. She didn't get the nightmares that Marco did, not the ones with memories flashing past her. Star's dreams were peaceful enough, at least when she was sleeping.

Star didn't dream often though. Most of the time, she couldn't. Her eyes wouldn't shut, her mind wouldn't stop racing.

So no, Star didn't dream often. But Star remembered.

First, there was pain. Her body hurt from the tip of her nose to edge of her tail. Every part of her was in agony. Only, she felt wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. She looked down at her paws and recoiled. Those shouldn't be there. She shouldn't have paws, she shouldn't have a tail, she shouldn't have horns, she shouldn't have a muzzle. It was wrong. All of it was wrong, wrong, wrong. But what should she have instead?

She didn't know, she couldn't remember. And that was killing her.

She was in a room. Stone surrounded her. Light came from the ceiling, but it wasn't natural. Just like her. She took a shaky step forward, her body burning with every subsequent step.

She threw herself into the stone wall, desperate to escape, to get out, to stop feeling wrong. She yelped, her head ringing from the impact. But she threw herself against the wall again, and again, and again, and again. The pain was a welcome distraction. She remembered pain. Pain was normal. Pain wasn't wrong. Not like she was.

Something hissed, and she stopped to see where the sound was coming from. It came from above her. Green gas was pouring in from above, and as soon as it was near enough for her to smell it, her world started going black, and she fell into oblivion.

She awoke to the sound of voices. Faint, but still understandable.

"We didn't expect such a severe reaction sir. The boy had no such symptoms."

"I understand that. You are dismissed. I will deal with her."

She still felt wrong. Her paws that shouldn't be paws itched, urging her to do something, anything to make the feeling disappear. The four stone walls that surrounded her didn't offer an escape. They didn't offer much of anything. The light above her flickered as she heard the sound of stone scraping against stone.

There was an opening in the walls now, she bolted for it, ignoring her body's protest. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared though, and instead she slammed into the wall head first.

"You're that desperate to escape, aren't you? That doesn't surprise me though. " A voice, she hadn't seen anyone enter, but now she could see their outline clearly.

It was a lizard, one that stood on two legs. His face was stoic, with only a small smile tugging at his lips.

She lunged. Everything in her was screaming to attack him. He was an enemy. He was dangerous. He would hurt her. He would hurt…someone, someone else.

Her jaws were about to snap shut around the lizard, but he shuffled to the side, dodging her. Then, all she could feel was pain. It was different then before though, this pain coursed through her, making all her hairs stand on end as she collapsed, whimpering.

"We're going to lay some ground rules." She looked up to see a strange machine sitting in the lizard's hand. "This little thing gives you an electric shock. The electric shock is painful. Do as I say, and you won't get shocked. It's as simple as that."

Part of her was still reveling in the agony of the electric shock, as the lizard had called it, while the other part considered what he was saying.

She didn't want to listen to him. She still felt wrong, and the thought of obeying this guy only sickened her further. So, she got to her feet, growling softly.

"It's your choice. Either lay down quietly, or suffer the consequences." The lizard said with a cold smile.

She charged again, the instinctual rage against the lizard overriding any feelings of fear at the lizard's. But the result was the same as the last time, except the pain lasted longer this time, and she saw black dots flash across her vision.

She stood up though, and leapt again. The pain soon followed. It didn't matter though. She didn't want to simply lay down and give in, even if she didn't know who she was giving in to. Besides, she didn't feel quite as wrong now that she was doing something, fighting something, ignoring how her strange body felt.

But she wasn't invincible, soon she couldn't see at all, and she couldn't stand up anymore without her legs giving out on her. She could hear him still, sounding closer than ever.

"Are you really going to waste your time fighting me? Just accept it already."

"Never." Her own snarl surprised her, and that was her voice, wasn't it? It sounded strange to her, unusual, different than what she thought it should be. She didn't even know what language she was speaking, only what the word itself meant. It meant she wouldn't give in, she wouldn't stop fighting.

"I'll take that snarl as a 'no' then." Her vision cleared slightly, giving her a narrow view of the lizard walking away and pressing a button on another machine.

The machine projected a bright screen with an image on it. It was another beast, in his own enclosure.

She forced herself to her feet, taking a shaky step towards the screen and the unfamiliar beast that wasn't unfamiliar at all.

Everything else faded away when she looked at the other beast. All she could focus on was the intense yearning to see him, be near him, comfort him, stand by him. With a low whine, she stuck her nose through the screen in an attempt to reach out towards him. She was left blinking in confusion as her nose passed right through the screen. Backtracking, she tried it again, only to get the same result.

She couldn't understand, she could see him right there, why couldn't she reach him? He was so close. She should be able to reach him, to talk to him.

"You recognize the earth child? That's interesting." The lizard pressed a button on his clothes, whispering something else that she couldn't hear.

Her eyes glued onto the other beast, they widened when she saw other lizard like creatures walk up to it, holding a familiar machine.

No. He didn't deserve that. They couldn't hurt him.

"Don't hurt him." She whimpered without thinking, her panic growing.

The other beast was on his feet now, brandishing his horns at the creature threatening him while trying his hardest to slink out of its reach.

The lizard whispered something else into his clothes, at the creature on the screen stopped, backing away from the other beast.

"So, let's make another deal. Listen to me, and we won't hurt your friend over there. Do anything I don't agree with, and well…" The lizard trailed off, gesturing to the screen.

The creature advanced on the other beast once more, pushing him into a corner. She screwed her eyes shut, hoping and praying that she was wrong about what was coming, but she couldn't block the yelp of pain that rang out and touched her soul.

"Sit." The lizard ordered, and despite everything in her screaming to fight, she sat, drawing her tail around her paws. She wouldn't let the other beast get hurt. His yelp still echoed around in her head, and she had a feeling she wouldn't forget it anytime soon.

"Good." The lizard practically purred, and her lips curled upwards, but she stayed still regardless. "I look forward to working with you."

The lizard backed off, taking the screen with him, walking through the door that had somehow appeared again. He turned to softly add on, "One last thing, I would stay calm, unless you want us to hurt your friend."

The door slid shut, and she was left with nothing but her thoughts again. The itch in her paws returned, a part of her screaming at her that she was still wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. She shoved it down, focusing on what she remembered of the other beast. She didn't want him in pain, and it was much easier to concentrate on that than it was to concentrate on herself.

They fed her on occasion, but she always stayed hungry. The left water in a dish for her to drink though, although that was only refilled when she was fed, so she drank sparingly. There was another place to do her…business as they had put it. Usually the place reeked, but it wasn't something she couldn't handle or wasn't used to.

They had her do tests too. They took her to another room, she didn't know exactly where. They never kept her awake when they moved her from room to room, always gassing her so she was kept unconscious and confused.

The test ranged from simply making her run until she couldn't anymore or trying to get her to shift- whatever that meant. She hated when they tried to make her 'shift.' It was like being torn apart from the inside. Sure, this body still felt wrong, but the now faint feeling was nothing in comparison to the utter anarchy that ran wild inside her whenever she tried to 'shift.'

The lizard was no longer just 'the lizard' he was 'the Lizard.' She knew he was the leader here. No one dared defy his orders. She didn't know his name, and she had little desire to, unless it would let her remember who she was.

She heard the other monsters who worked here talking about it when they thought she was knocked out. She heard whispers that she and the other beast weren't from here, that they had been different before the boss had gotten his hands on them. The words had sparked a hope in her that fueled her onwards. Now she knew she was more than a prisoner, a beast. There was something outside these walls waiting for her. She just had to remember what it was.

She knew something was off when they brought her to the new and strange room. It was more like a pit than anything, circular walls surrounding her, with what looked like seats lining the top. The ceiling was still blocked off though, offering nothing but a view of solid stone. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Lizard staring down from one of the more important looking chairs, a silent warning if she rebelled.

Across from her, a gate slowly rose up, the darkness beyond it showing nothing but a pair of glowing hazel eyes. She took a step back, mentally preparing herself in case a fight broke out. She had been forced to fight other beings before, but never like this.

She heard a low growl as the hazel eyes moved nearer, a growl that was oddly… familiar?

Her guards dropped as the beast's face came into the light, revealing her suspicions to be true.

It was him. The other beast. Her tail started to wag behind her, her eyes lighting with joy. The joy was dimmed slightly when she saw the state he was in though. He was limping heavily, one of his eyes swollen. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted. He was littered in various cuts and scrapes, some of his fur missing or covered over with scabs. But still, his tail gave a wag of its own. Even if it was tiny, almost imperceptible, it was there, and that was all the validation she needed.

She bounded over to the beast, stopping just shy of his nose.

"I know you." She couldn't help the greeting, even if she knew he likely wouldn't understand her, time here taught her that no one understood her language.

"I know you too." She faltered for a moment, taking in the facts that this other beast could understand her and somehow knew her like she knew him. Caught up in her ecstasy, she brushed their noses together, completely unprepared for the blinding rush that followed the touch.

It was familiar, so familiar, yet it was new and exhilarating all at once. She could feel him, see him, all around her. They were sitting side by side, laughing. They were fighting monsters together, twisting and moving around the other with ease. They were dancing, a dreamlike red light shining around them.

For the first time since opening her eyes, she felt right, she felt complete, she felt whole. She knew that he was meant to fit perfectly with her, this other beast, her friend, her-

Marco

The name hit her like a blow to the stomach, fast and brutal and leaving her gasping for air. She couldn't care less though, now that she knew who Marco was.

She opened her eyes, expecting to be met with the Marco's snout, but was welcomed by a completely different sight.

He was standing on two legs, his body standing upright. His face was flat, as was his body now. His wide eyes stared down at his, his, his, hands, as Star remembered them. It was only then that she looked down herself, to see that she looked just like Marco, besides that she was slightly shorter than him, had much longer hair, and had a different sort of outer layer than his red and black one. Hers was green, and flowed together instead of being separated like Marco's was. She decided that she liked it.

Joy bubbled through her bloodstream, and for once, she felt right in her own skin; the sheer euphoria from it all was freeing.

Lurching forwards, almost losing her balance with her new, wobbly legs, she engulfed Marco in a- a hug.

"Thank you, Marco. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you." She whispered into his ear. "I remember you, I remember you."

"I'm so glad you're here Star. Thank you." Marco whispered back returning the hug. "I remember you too. I'm so happy."

"Well, as touching as this has been, it's time to break it up." The Lizards voice rang out over their embrace, cold, but a smug lilt to it none the less.

No. No, no, no, no, no. He couldn't separate them, not after she could finally remember. She took a step forward, ready to fight with tooth and claw, but she suddenly realized this body didn't have anything like that. But still, she was ready to do whatever it took. She felt right, and she wasn't going to let the Lizard take that away without a fight.

The Lizard slipped a mask over his nose though, and a familiar green gas began to seep out of the walls.

She fought against it for as long as she could, but her vision soon faded to black, leaving her with nothing but the hint of Marco's name on her tongue.

When she awakened to find herself back in her much to small enclosure, alone, and with paws and a tail once more, she couldn't stop the mournful howls that were ripped from her throat.

It was only later that she fully realized what Marco had called her.

"Star." She growled the name into the stale air, smiling at the sound of it. The name brought a reassuring warmth to her chest, and for a second her surroundings disappeared as she reveled in it.

Star. She wouldn't mind being called that again.

Star fell asleep easily then, comforted by her new identity.

They made her shift more often, after she met Marco, and to her surprise, it didn't hurt nearly as much. She could do it on command now, the process becoming almost natural over time.

Then they started talking about magic and spells and stones and it all went downhill.

They were trying to 'stimulate her,' and Star despised every second of it. From electric shocks to burning metal sticks, it seemed that every day they found new ways to torture her.

When she was laying in her enclosure though, the only thought that kept her standing was the thought of seeing Marco again. He was still in here somewhere, waiting for her, missing her like she missed him. She was sure of it.

Once, the thought of death had flitted across her mind, and she almost relished the idea. It was a way to escape the pain she was subjected to, and in that moment, that was all she wanted.

She was swamped with guilt after the thought though, because how could she think like that? How broken was she to actually look forwards to death? How could she do that to Marco?

She chased away any thoughts concerning death after that. If she was going to die, she was going to die only after seeing Marco one last time.

It happened suddenly, as most things did here. One moment Star was sleeping, dreaming of darkness, then a pain shot through her, stemming from her chest.

She stared down to see the half-star that was embedded in her chest giving off a soft glow, one that grew brighter with another stab of pain.

Star drew herself to her feet, flinching as the glow grew brighter still.

She hadn't really paid much attention to the stone, not even when the monster surrounding her had started whispering about it. It hadn't ever done much but sit there, so she had been content to ignore it. But now? Now it was shining bright and filling her veins with a burning energy.

The energy built and built until it felt like her heart was going to explode from where it was pounding in her chest. She didn't feel any great concern though. The energy didn't feel malevolent at all, instead, she was left searching for how she could find more of it, more and more because she remembered this feeling, and she didn't want to let it go anytime soon.

As if responding to her wishes, the energy surged, and Star found herself roaring instinctively as a beam of pink light shot out of her stone, demolishing the wall in front of her.

She almost tripped over her own paws in her scramble to get out. Alarms blared around her as she ran through the long hallway that had sat just outside her enclosure.

Her stone still shined brightly, and Star could feel a faint pulling in her chest. She followed it blindly, it wasn't like she had anything else to guide her out of this place.

Turn after turn, hallway after hallway, she didn't slow down for anything. Any monster who found themselves in her path, regardless of whether they had weapons or not was brought down, with her teeth or her stone, whichever was closer.

After a seemingly endless maze of hallways and rooms, the pull in her chest dies down when she reaches the same pit where she had first seen Marco. Charging to the gate where he had emerged from, she melted it to a puddle as she leapt inside.

"Marco?" She rumbled into the darkness, relaxing as a familiar pair of hazel eyes revealed themselves.

"Star?" A weak growl responded, Marco limping out to where Star could get a good look at him.

He was covered in injuries, scrapes and gouges alike. His horns and fur were stained with dry blood. Star bounded over to him, her stone shining softly. She pressed her nose against a small scrape above Marco's eye, wishing desperately that she could fix him somehow, make his pain go away.

Both of them let out a surprised huff as a soft light enveloped the scratch, sealing it shut without a scab or scar.

"Magic." Marco's voice held a hushed awe. "You can use it?"

"It comes from my stone. You can probably use it too." Star informed him as she moved to the next wound, using the newfound ability to heal any and every injury she could see. Once she was done, she beckoned him forward. "Now let's get out of here."

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for that." Marco shook himself off quickly before running ahead, Star caught up to him quickly, grinning as they raced side by side.

Needless to say, nothing stood in their way, stone and monster alike. The only issue was the fact that they couldn't find a way out. Star had wanted to simply blast their way out, but Marco had advised against it, saying that for all they know, they could accidentally send the whole establishment crashing down on them. Begrudgingly, Star had agreed, leading them to this.

The Lizard stood in their path, brandishing a pair of short sickles. Star could see real sunlight poking through the doors behind him, and knew that he was the last thing standing between her and freedom.

She sent a blast towards him, growling as it missed. Marco took the distraction as a chance to charge, intent on skewering the Lizard.

The Lizard slipped past the charge, slashing into Marco's side as he flew by. Twisting, Marco lunged for a second attack while Star leapt at him from the front.

The Lizard dropped to the ground. Star overshot him, but Marco snapped his jaws around the Lizard's tail, ripping it off with a satisfied snarl.

The Lizard let out a small gasp of pain, but kept his composure as he jumped to his feet. Star shot another beam at him while Marco spat out the tail.

In one motion, the Lizard curved around the beam while throwing one of his sickles at Marco.

Marco dodged the weapon, taking a second to make sure the weapon wasn't coming back. The Lizard had taken the distraction as a chance to charge Star, dodging or deflecting any magical attacks.

Star snapped at him as he neared, her jaws shutting around his other weapon. With a smile, she tore it out of his grasp and sent it flying across the room. She readied herself to deliver the final blow when she was sent flying, pain blossoming on her cheek. Her head pounded, and the world spun from where she laid on the ground. Faintly, she could see a mace in the Lizard's hand, the reason she had been sent flying.

The lizard was walking closer, his tail swishing behind him. Star couldn't help but be confused at the sight, hadn't Marco torn that off?

A dark figure jumped over the Lizard, crouching over her as he sent a threatening snarl towards the Lizard. Marco's tail brushed against her side as he lowered himself down, his snarls growing deeper as the Lizard kept getting closer.

"You know, I can understand why you chose him as your escort. He certainly has a determination to him, if little else. Still, I was hoping for better from you Star." The Lizard's eyes had a fire in them now, filled with long held malice and contempt.

Marco's stone began to give off a glow of its own, a soft green as he snarled once more, a final warning.

"Do it, Marco. I know you want to." The Lizard beckons, spreading his arms out in challenge.

Smoke poured out of Marco's mouth as he took a step forward, his stone shining brighter. A ball of greens and blacks formed in front of his snout, churning and twisting as it slowly expanded. It shot forwards, faster than Star could track, crashing into the wall besides the Lizard.

For a moment, nothing happened, silence overtaking the air.

Then, a flash of light followed by a roar of fire and energy. The hallway was engulfed in fire, narrowly missing Star and Marco.

Without pause, Marco turned to help Star to her feet, checking her face anxiously as he searched for injuries.

Star strode forward towards the awaiting doors. Marco followed her, his breathing slightly labored, but he kept stride anyways.

Star blasted her ways through the doors, walking out to see what the world held for her. She grinned as the sunlight hit her face, closing her eyes for a moment just so she could take it in. She could feel Marco take in an awestruck breath beside her, and she leaned into him.

"We're out Marco. We're out." Star whispered, taking a hesitant step forward, suddenly aware of just how large the landscape in front of her was. It was barren, a flat area of rocks and stones. She spares a glance backwards at the large building currently in flames.

"What do we do now?" Marco asked, looking just as intimidated by the world around them as she did.

Still, she took a steadying breath, leaned down to heal the shallow scrapes on Marco's sides, and took a few more steps forward.

"Let's just run. Run until we can't see this place anymore." Star said, looking ahead at where she could see a hint of green.

"I'd be happy to." Marco replied, stepping up beside her as she took off, starting at a slow jog but quickly speeding into a full out run. Marco joined her both of them smiling as the ground raced away under their paws and the sky opened before them.

The sun shone brightly, lighting up the world around them as they ran side by side, free at last.