#unofficial ttt entry number 2 babyyyy

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Just Fine and Dandelions

(Part 3/3)

(Previous part)

The pair of witches smiled peacefully as they carefully tended to the plants. Usually, Marinette would use magic to grow back everything she took, but right now? No, the town was complacent, assured in the fact that one of the two people they had executed was the witch, and that simply wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t be fun.

It wouldn’t do them much good, either. They would eventually realize that they were still losing resources at the same, steady rate they had been before. There were already talks of sending people back to their old houses, and there was no guarantee that they would get the same ‘buddy’ the second time around. If they even chose the same system.

And neither Marinette nor Duke wanted to lose their newfound partner in crime quite yet. What if their next buddy was the noble sort, willing to be killed if it meant their village would survive? They didn’t want to be caught yet! Not when the fun had just begun.

Duke toyed with an aloe leaf, eyeing the plant thoughtfully.

His fingertip began to glow a bright, fiery orange.

He pressed it to the wall, carving a blackened message into the wood:

Wrong.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The town was quiet the next morning, confused. They stood in the middle of the square. They were much more kind than they had been the day before, whispering among themselves, standing far closer together. It seemed as if all worries have been alleviated, all grudges forgotten. They wondered aloud. What have they been called together for, this time?

It is because no one was on guard that Marinette and Duke didn’t even have to actively incriminate anyone.

The town merchant took a little tumble on the way there, after all, and the little pieces of dirt on her hands and knees were more than enough to convince people of her guilt.

Her buddy tried to argue that, no, she had been with him all night, and there was no way she of all people would do anything even remotely close to gardening. Marinette and Duke were mildly impressed that he was standing up for her – the merchant wasn’t particularly well-liked, and it is always easier to simply go with the crowd with things like this, but the chimney sweep had always been one of the kinder people in town.

It didn’t save either of them. The townsfolk assumed he was ‘in cahoots’ with her, or perhaps that she was simply his lackey and he was the true witch. They join their fellow humans at the bottom of a lake.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pair of witches sat in the shop. Marinette leaned back against the wall, Duke doing the same with a nearby desk, both of their legs splayed out in front of them. One of Marinette’s ankles rested over the top of his leg, but she couldn’t bring herself to care enough to move it quite yet. Gems lay discarded all around them, drained of all magic. A tiny sigh of relief left them in tandem. The town guardswoman had been working harder, as of late, staying up every night and running around, lantern in one hand, her buddy’s hand in the other. The light of her lamp and loud complaints of her buddy, who was not the particularly active sort, made them easier to avoid, but not easy.

They would only have a few moments to do this before they would pass by on patrols, and she would see that Duke had melted the doorknob in his haste to get them inside.

But the artificial calm provided by the use of magic after three whole days without it made it hard to even want to rush. Only barely coming back from starving twice in a week had understandably drained them of all motivation to leave the nice place full of ‘food’. It would be better if they could steal and stockpile it, but having anything magical on them could be damning evidence if anyone in the village ever bothered to search homes, and they were not going to risk it. Which meant their only option was to sit there, performing as many tiny magic tricks as they could dream up, and then leave.

Light began to poke around the corner.

Marinette and Duke looked at each other, eyes wide.

Well, that solved the motivation problem.

They sprung to their feet, immediately searching for something to do. They could, perhaps, kill them, but murder was risky business. There were two humans, what if one of them got away? What if they found a way to alert surrounding homes? What if they managed to scream before they could silence them?

No, that should be a last resort.

They cast their eyes around, looking for a spot that they could hide that wouldn’t immediately be checked. Which wasn’t an easy task, since any place they might have found within a few seconds was likely also going to get them found within a few seconds.

Marinette longed for the early days, when she could still shift forms without her body putting up much of a fuss. Things were so much easier when she could simply collapse herself to the size of a ladybug and tuck herself into a corner until the problem went away.

Now, though, she was too old.

And, while Duke might be able to manage it, that didn’t help her. Though, if he hadn’t thought of it, yet, he might not actually be able to shift, either.

Huh. Must be older than she’d been guessing.

Either way, that meant both of them needed a way out of here or they’d be more dead than that merchant and chimney swe –.

Her head swung around to the chimney.

She shoved Duke towards it.

“Climb.”

For a moment, he looked confused, but then he realized what she was trying to say, and his expression shifted from confused to incredulous. “I can’t fit up there!”

“Just – get up, break something if you have to. You can fix it later,” she hissed, grabbing his shoulder with both hands and pushing.

He gasped as his shoulder was forced out of place, and then shoved his good hand into his mouth to stifle a scream.

He shot her a dirty look, one she ignored since they might end up with far worse than an aching shoulder if they got caught, and shoved him towards the chimney again.

He managed to squeeze his way up, and she followed after him.

It was painfully silent. Painfully in that their bodies really weren’t meant for this much contortion. Neither of them was quite thin enough that the chimney was a comfortable fit, and that wasn’t even considering Duke’s out-of-place shoulder and the scrapes covering her unfortunately exposed arms and legs thanks to the haste with which she had clambered up the chimney walls.

If they got caught despite their efforts, Marinette was going to curse.

As in swear.

And also as in she was going to lunge for the nearest gem and make sure that the guard and musician’s bloodlines were unable to continue.

The witches were silent as they listened to the door getting forced open, to the guard’s cursing as she made her way around, looking for where they might have hidden. And then the door slammed and all was quiet.

Neither of them dared to move.

It wasn’t for another five minutes that the guard actually gave up and left in a huff, grumbling under her breath. The musician, now free to speak, started complaining again immediately. They listened to his voice, getting quieter and quieter, until they were finally alone.

Marinette tipped her head to rest against the outside of his knee, pressing a hand to her chest. It was an old, unneeded gesture, one that did nothing to relax a heart that had long-since gone still, and she was mildly surprised to find herself doing it, even after all of these years.

She giggled, closing her eyes. “I’m too old for this. Remind me why we don’t just burn this place to the ground?”

“Less fun?” he offered.

She supposed that was true. She hadn’t felt this excited in… well, a while.

“Now, start climbing down before I kick you down,” he said, his voice slightly strained.

“You wouldn’t –.”

He, in fact, would. She scowled as she landed in a heap at the bottom, and the ashes she flattened immediately sought vengeance. When he crawled out and saw her soot-covered, visibly annoyed face, he merely raised an eyebrow.

“You broke my arm, I think it was warranted.”

“It’s not broken, it’s out of place.”

“The point still stands.”

She huffed. These were not equal crimes. He could fix his arm with a bit of magic, she couldn’t un-stain her clothes.

He seemed to think that he was the one who had been wronged, though, because he did not apologize for his misdeeds in the slightest. She huffed, her gaze sliding to the side, where several gems still lay. She was half tempted to fight him, but they really should be getting home, and soon, before the guard noticed that they were gone.

They snuck back into their house, careful not to track any soot inside, and only allowed themself to relax once they had reached their shared room.

Marinette ran a hand through her hair, huffing when a bit of ash fluttered to the floor. “I’m taking the first shower. Because it’s my shower. And because I hate you,” she said.

He didn’t deign to respond. Which only annoyed her more, but whatever.

Marinette stepped out of the bathroom a half hour later, toweling off her now-clean, healthy-ish hair. It was still a little thinner than it should be, but should be better by morning…

She looked to Duke, opening her mouth to say it was his turn, only to stop. He was sitting on his bed, gingerly touching his shoulder. He hadn’t yet snapped it back into place, apparently.

She hesitated.

“I… I can fix it for you.”

His head shot up to look at her. He eyed her, blatant distrust lining his features. She might have been offended by it, back when she was a human and her emotions still ran hot instead of cold, but it wasn’t like she didn’t understand. If he had offered to help her, she would have wondered whether he was planning a surprise attack, too.

Slowly, warily, he nodded.

She made her way over, just as slowly, in the way she might approach a wild cat she wanted to take as a familiar.

She took a seat beside him and rested a careful hand on his back.

“Can I use some of your energy?” she asked, because they didn’t have much they could channel with right now, and she wasn’t going to use her own life force to fix his shoulder.

He grimaced, but nodded.

She closed her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was that he was young. Perhaps not even a century old yet. Where her body was always eager to get back into the positions they had resided in for hundreds of years, his still fought her. She had expected it would be harder to alter his body than her own, she had suspected that she was older since their first meeting, but this? She was no longer sure whether she could fix this.

The second thing she noticed was that he had his Item on him, somehow. He had far too much power thrumming beneath his skin for anything different. But where could it be? He changed his clothes daily. Had he eaten it? She supposed that that might work, witches didn’t have digestive systems –.

She abruptly noticed a third thing. And almost second-guessed it, because it was so strange that it simply had to be untrue.

His body felt… alive. In a way that her own couldn’t be. Her own body was largely empty, with only magic thrumming beneath her skin to keep everything more or less where it was supposed to be. Once she had stopped needing to eat food, the bacteria in her stomach had turned on itself, desperate to eat, and had attacked everything that had once made her ‘alive’, until it had eventually run out of things to consume and died off itself.

She could still ‘bleed’. Magic was happy to spill out of her when her skin was torn, identical to human blood save for the fact that it was horrifically acidic. She still, kind of, had bones, in that her skin did not take kindly to being shoved out of place after so long. Her body, while inhuman, still behaved in a lot of the ways that a human’s might.

This, though?

This was a whole different thing entirely. There were bones. Muscles. Blood circulation. Lungs. A heart, even!

“What – what are you?” she asked.

He smiled. “A witch.”

She wasn’t sure she agreed. He had magic, sure, but this wasn’t right.

Still, it wasn’t as if she could compel him to tell her anything. She could barely compel humans, and even that was weak – a suggestion more than an order.

So, as frustrated as she might be, she couldn’t do anything.

(She did, however, maybe, push his shoulder back into place a little more forcefully than was entirely necessary.)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

They stood in the town square. Everyone knew what had happened, but only two ‘people’ knew who had done it.

Of course, those two did not want to be caught.

Which was why the guard had to go. If there was something they didn’t need, it was someone who was patrolling the area every night. Marinette had had a few pleasant conversations with the woman, but sentiment wasn’t something she was prone to feeling, and even if it was she would probably care way more about not dying.

So, yeah, they needed to take her out of the equation.

Duke tightened his grip on her hand briefly.

Someone was paying attention to them.

Marinette made panic contort her features, briefly, before tamping it down in favor of an expression that seemed mildly concerned.

“Did – did you hear what they just said?” she ‘whispered’, pointing vaguely into the crowd. “They asked who would benefit the most from everyone being scared…”

She leaned into Duke slightly, as if for comfort. After spending several days on end in each other’s presence, they had somewhat gotten used to each other, but being quite this close made her hackles rise. Her discomfort was suddenly far more real. At least it might be more convincing.

Not that she really needed to be convincing, of course.

Paranoid as the townsfolk already were, planting the idea into their minds was easy.

Though, Marinette was annoyed to say, the guard wasn’t killed. Perhaps because no one wanted to take a trained guardsman in a fight. Especially if the woman was a witch.

At least she was exiled.

They watched the guard disappear into the woods with nothing but a backpack and the clothes on her back, never to be seen again. Duke squeezed Marinette's hand, tight enough that it might have hurt had she been a human.

Marinette looked over, expecting him to have something to show her. But he didn’t seem to be aware of what he was doing. Watching the woman leave, his eyes gleaming.

She, lightly, squeezed back.

And a few days later, the townsfolk celebrated, because the witches hadn’t stolen anything in days, and therefore they must have successfully driven out the true witch.

Marinette and Duke were the happiest of all.

And no one noticed the blood caked beneath their fingernails.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The townsfolk, of course, knew that they were being baited, that every person they sent to the bottom of the river was likely framed…

But they couldn’t seem to ignore that needling voice in the back of their mind:

What if it was real? What if it was a genuine slip up on the witch’s part? What if this was their one chance to get rid of the witch?

And the witches, of course, sunk their claws deeper into the town.

They might, one day, sink in too deep, and draw blood.

They couldn’t wait.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Marinette and Duke laid on the ground, both grinning widely at the ceiling. Even now, faint shivers still ran through her from time to time, relief and magic washing over her over and over again. She hadn’t felt this content in what felt like ages.

“Think this is what humans feel like after they’re full?” Duke asked. “You know, that sleepy-full feeling they always talk about?”

“What? Did you turn so long ago that you can’t remember?” she teased.

“I never turned.”

She blinked. If she wasn’t so artificially calm, she might have jolted, sat upright, started demanding an answer. As it was, she simply turned onto her side and sent him a mildly curious look.

He gave her a smile. It wasn’t tired, they couldn’t really be tired, but it was about as close as they could get. “I was born a witch. My dad was a demon, I guess it didn’t fully transfer.”

She struggled to wrap her mind around the idea. She, like every other witch – outside of him, apparently – had become a witch through a deal with a demon. Power, but at the price of your soul. At the price of your very humanity.

She didn’t know if she missed it. She couldn’t really miss anything at all.

Still, dully, she thought that it was kind of messed up that Duke had never gotten the choice as to whether he would lose his soul. It had simply never existed to begin with.

She was feeling… something. It wasn’t fear or anger, nor manic glee. She didn’t know what it was, she only knew one thing for sure:

She hated it.

She would do anything to wipe that look off of his face.

Hesitantly, she reached up and pulled out her earrings. Marinette knew that, if she gave them to him, he could make her leave forever, could tell her to walk right out of town and she would have no choice but to obey…

At least she wouldn’t have to look at his annoying, confusing face anymore.

She held them out for him to take.

He looked confused, mumbled about how his ears weren’t even pierced, but he accepted.

The second he touched them, he jolted, his fingers instantly curling around the offering and dragging it back into his chest, more than aware of what it was and what it meant. He gave her a wide-eyed stare.

“This is…”

“My Item,” she agreed, though the way she said it was slightly stilted, as if she were in pain. She wasn’t, not really, but there was a part of her mind that was screaming at her for giving up something that would make her so vulnerable. Some part of her that wanted to jump him, to try and wrestle them out of his grip. “Please accept it.”

Duke looked down at her Item for just a moment longer, before looking back at her. He smiled so brightly that she wondered how she had never noticed that he was partially human before this, because there was so much warmth there. He was living.

Distantly, she thought that she wanted it.

The next morning, she caught him piercing his ears with sewing needles.

For a moment, she swore she could feel her heart beat in her chest.

She didn't have a heart anymore, so this wasn’t the case, of course, but she couldn’t help but smile regardless.

She still chided him for using her good sewing needles, though.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The town gossip being sent to the bottom of the lake was… a surprise.

Marinette and Duke hadn’t arranged for that to happen, actually. They hadn’t even thought the gardener would notice that some of the branches of his plants were a little thinner than they had been the previous day. Even if he had, they had assumed he’d blame the musician who had recently joined him and his buddy, or his original buddy. Who else would have access to his shop, after all?

But, no, they were pretty sure it was a simple personal vendetta.

Humans are so fascinating when they’re at their worst.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Duke slowly pulled his shirt over his head. This wasn’t particularly shocking, considering they lived together – it’s pretty much inevitable that you’re going to see a roommate naked at least once by accident – but he had never done so in a way that had felt so intimate before, his eyes firmly locked on her own.

And then, carefully, he slid his hand into his chest, and plucked out his own heart, presenting it for her to see.

She took it in her hands, and was surprised to find that it was still beating, though in a way that was far more muted than the human hearts she had touched in the past. Of course, those people had been scared out of their minds and screaming over the hand in their chest, so perhaps her perception of a normal heart rate was incorrect, but…

Either way, she smiled and pressed a kiss to the offering. Blood painted her lips red.

Duke didn’t seem to mind. He still took her chin in his hand, pulling her face up to meet his own.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The door opened.

Marinette and Duke could only look up, eyes wide, at the poor store owner and his buddy, who had made the grave mistake of deciding to check on the shop that night.

They must have been quite the sight, considering Duke’s heart was still clutched in her hands, which was a far cry from being inside of his body like it was supposed to be.

His heart seemed to spring to life in her palms, beating faster and faster.

“I guess you’ve caught me,” Duke said, gentle even as he pushed her off. He got to his feet, dusting imaginary dirt from himself. He held his hands up in a kind of surrender, but she could see his eyes flicking around the floor, searching for a crystal he could use to escape. He must not have found one, because his jaw set. He sent the humans a smirk. “And here I thought I would get away with seducing her into silence.”

Oh, that bastard was trying to take all the blame.

“Wait,” she said, trying to scramble to her feet.

He sent her a cutting look, and instantly she was forced back to the ground, an invisible pressure holding her down, her forehead against the floor.

Her earrings.

She squeezed the heart in her palm, but every time she tried to think of a command to give him, her mind went blank. The words ‘I am a witch, too’ never seemed to leave her tongue.

Of course, the fact that she had been forced to the floor by something they couldn’t see only solidified the truth of Duke’s claims in their minds.

Funny, because it actually confirmed that Marinette was a witch, not Duke, but since when had humans ever taken the time to actually understand those that they feared?

“You – you – you come with us! We will put you to a fair trial, so long as you promise not to hurt anyone!”

Duke’s head tipped back in a laugh, but there was nothing genuinely amused about it. “Ah, yeah, a fair trial. If you’re innocent, you die, and if you’re a witch, you’re left to rot. How fun.”

“Well – do you know a better solution?” the store owner asked.

“Sure. But I’m not going to tell you it.”

Was he refusing to say for her sake?

She might as well return the favor…

And, though it was embarrassing to admit, she was more than a little fond of him. Sure, she used to want him to leave her town, had struggled to stop herself from sinking her teeth into the skin of his neck in hopes that she might spill enough magic for the townsfolk to take notice and subsequently take his life. But, now, having spent quite a while living with him...

Well, she had grown used to his presence. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he was gone.

Marinette squeezed the heart in her hand just a little tighter, drawing upon his life source.

A gem crept its way up into his pocket.

That night, Duke was flung into the lake.

Or, rather, toward the lake. He didn’t step foot inside of it, his nose scrunching in mild disgust at the mere thought of touching the algae below, opting to float less than a meter above the waters.

The chains around him started to glow red hot, melting off of him in sloughs. The hot iron met the water in a hiss of acrid-smelling steam.

He floated back over to the stunned townsfolk, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.

They would not have the same luxury.

“I’ve always wondered what you humans would do if a witch managed to get free,” he said. “I think your methods for dealing with witches need work. Not that you’ll get much time to fix them, I guess.”

The town continued to stare at him in muted horror.

“Run,” Marinette advised.

The townsfolk went scurrying like mice, leaving the two witches in the dust. Rushing towards their homes, hoping to grab a few things before they could ditch town. One or two smart ones disappeared into the woods. Their reward would be the few extra days-worth of survival before they were hunted down.

The two witches watched them all go for a moment.

And then Marinette knelt, picking a small dandelion, twirling the small flower between her fingers. She smiled as she tucked it behind her ear.

For a moment, she looked like just a normal woman, enjoying the simple pleasures in life.

The wicked gleam in her eyes ruined this effect.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The witches stood in the middle of a town – or what had once been one. Now, there was simply the carcasses of buildings, the stench of burning bodies, and dying flames licking at their heels.

Marinette skipped over, flowers blooming at her feet, only to get eaten by the flames within seconds.

Duke beamed at her. A sunshiny thing that made the air around it seem brighter in comparison. Or perhaps that was just the fire.

“I think we got everyone,” she reported, dutifully. “There should be no one left alive to reveal our secret.”

“Sweet,” he said, stretching his arms above his head, sighing contentedly. “Think we should leave now?”

“Yeah, the next town over might come investigating in the morning. A huge fire is kind of hard to miss, especially on a starless night.”

He nodded along. “That checks out.”

“Well, yeah, everything I say checks out. I’m always right.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you just… use your own magic to help me?”

Marinette couldn’t blush, for she didn’t have blood, but she still felt remarkably warm. Probably because of the fire. She fought to keep her expression neutral. “Honestly? I’d never thought of that.”

His head tipped back in a laugh. “Holy – what, so the centuries old witch forgot she had magic?”

“I’m not that old,” she said, even though she was. She pouted lightly. “I was panicking. Give me a break.”

His laughter petered off, until he was smiling at her, something soft in his eyes. Almost human.

(She needed it.)

He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

And then laced his fingers through his. “Ready to move on to the next town?”

“Absolutely. C’mon.”