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stones-x-bones · 4 years ago

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The Real Gamble (Pt. 2) || Mina and Bex

TIMING: Current (part 2 of this) PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable and @inbextween SUMMARY: Here’s where the real gamble comes in. Will it pay off? CONTENT: Underaged drinking, Brief Domestic Abuse mention, NSFW-ish (Kissing)

Once the bartender had gone off with their drinks, Bex readjusted herself and smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. It was something she always did when she got nervous. “Well, it’s, you know,” she started off again, leaning fully against the counter now, hoping the low lights behind them wouldn’t show off her red cheeks too much, “that’s the wonderful part about history. To me, at least. Humans have changed so much since they first came about, but there’s so many things that have stayed the same. So many things that we’ve chosen to preserve, so we can remember. So we can be better.” She knew she probably had that stupid, dreamy look on her face as she talked, but she was never able to help herself. Once she got talking about history and how much the past really informs the present, she couldn’t stop. “Every cycle is just a repeat of the same things, just slightly changed. It’s incredible, don’t you think?” She finally turned to look at Mina again, eyes sparkling. The other girl’s wide-eyed stare wasn’t lost on her, but she chose not to mention it yet. “Much better than the city of Chicago. So,” she said abruptly, “you explained how to play Blackjack, but you still haven’t taught me how exactly card counting works,” she continued, scooting a bit closer. “Wanna give it a shot?”

Swallowing, Mina managed to clear her throat and her head, honestly just grateful that the bartender had come along before she’d made an absolute fool of herself. Now, at least, she was only a partial fool. “I think that’s always been one of the most beautiful things about humanity, to me, the capability to change so much and yet remain so similar to where you started. I mean, a lot of major things have changed: the fact that human sacrifice isn’t a big deal anymore is pretty great, and I really enjoy the internet, personally, but humans still play games and still form societies and still spread themselves out as far as they can go.” That was one of the things that she’d always thought, more than anyone else’s teachings, that made humanity better. Fae, other supernaturals, so many of their rituals, for all that they’ve managed to blend into human society, were still archaic and secular. They looked down on humanity, but, honestly, how could they not see their incredible marvels? How could they not want so desperately to be a part of something so big? “You’re right, it’s absolutely incredible.” She clasped her hands together. “Right, I haven’t explained card counting while we were at the table because I didn’t want to get thrown out for it. But, essentially, what I’m doing is keeping track of the cards that I see, the values of those cards, and how many cards are in the deck to essentially predict the probability of what type of cards will come next: something of high value, or something of low value. And then I make bets or don’t based on that number, depending on whether or not I want to win or lose the hand.”

“It’s more than that, even,” Bex said, “it’s not just that we form societies, but how. And how there’s always some form of community at the center, some need to draw people together. Whether it’s religion or protection or common goals. The first civilizations formed not out of necessity, but out of want-- to make life easier and to spread the amount of work. To share. The leap from hunter gatherers-- cavemen-- to a collective society? It was astounding. It still is.” She let out a content sigh, the smile on her face natural. When was the last time she’d raved about history this much with someone? Probably when she’d last spoken to Professor Campbell, but the feeling was different here. She felt more at ease here. “We’re explorers,” she added on after a moment, “always have been, always will be. Whether it's our own planet, or the stars, or, well-- a place we created. Like the internet.” The bartender returned with their drinks and set each one down in front of them before nodding and heading to another needy patron. Bex grabbed hers and slid the other to Mina. “Sorry...I know you didn’t ask for a lecture on humanity. But I did warn you, I don’t know when to shut up sometimes.” Taking a sip of her drink would certainly shut her up, though, so she did just that, focusing back on Mina as she explained what all it took. And when she was done, Bex could only stare for a moment. “See,” she started, “you say that as if that’s all easy but sometimes I can’t even keep track of the number of meals I’ve eaten in a day, let alone that many cards all at once and then also calculate probability from that. Sheesh, you really underplayed this.” A chuckle, though, as she took another sip. She’d never had a cosmo before, but it wasn’t bad. Strong, but not bad. She hoped it wouldn’t mess with her painkillers too much. C’est la vie, she supposed. “Did you learn from someone or did you figure it out all by yourself?”

“See, and that’s-- yes!” Mina nodded. “That’s it, actually, how societies came together and, I don’t know, keep coming together? The, ah, the connectedness of people, of humanity. I’ve always liked learning about that.” She smiled. “I’ve always liked that, too, the exploring, the desire not to just stay in one area, secluded and never being more.” She should, as a nix, want something stable, something lasting. A lake or a river bed to stay in and protect, a piece of nature that belonged to her and her kin. But Mina didn’t grow up like that. She’d never had those thoughts, those desires. She’d attached and detached herself from places her entire life, and she couldn’t imagine not doing that anymore. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know. I like hearing you talk about it. Besides, I could use a lecture on humanity every now and then.” She took her a sip of her drink. The last time she’d had vodka had been straight from a bottle two years before with the daughter of a Russian slayer her father had been working with, the girl more fascinated than disgusted by Mina as she asked questions about Fae that Mina just didn’t know the answer to. What would she know about Fae when she’d never been never really been around them? The cosmo was much sweeter, though she still felt that bite. “I really-- I mean, you don’t actually have to remember the numbers, just highs or lows.” She shrugged. “I learned myself. My schooling was kind of my own, so I just learned what I wanted after I learned what was useful. I, ah, didn’t realize that I knew how to count cards until I was… actually counting cards. Which is why I got in so much trouble the first time I did it.”

“Connection is the most important part of a culture,” Bex said, “it’s what creates a healthy, functioning society. If people can’t connect to each other then--” she paused for a moment, reflecting on her own words. Connection. It was such a strange concept to Bex. She hadn’t had many opportunities to connect to people before, as a child, as a teengaer, even as a young adult. She was isolated and awkward and anxious, and even the connections she did make always turned out wrong or bad or toxic. She was sure from an outside perspective, it all made sense, but to her, it was her own fault, her own failure. And her parents agreed. “--well, then, there’s just nothing.” She finished rather somberly and tried to move the thoughts away from such a low place, sipping the drink again. Maybe a larger amount than she should have, but unbeknownst to most people, Bex’s first drink of alcohol had been vodka and it had been when she was twelve. It seemed her father’s taste ran in the family. She gave a short laugh at Mina’s next comment. “Couldn’t we all?” She nearly rolled her eyes, then, pushing away from the counter and taking Mina’s hand again. “God, you really need to follow my wisdom and just let me compliment you. I know it’ll work out in the end. Now c’mon,” she urged, “I wanna see you in action again. You get that funny, smug look on your face when you play and I wanna see it.”

“I agree, totally, though I’m, ah, I’m bad at those. Connections.” Mina kind of swirled her drink a bit, though she smiled to sort of lessen what she was saying. Recovering, she said, “But you already know that.” She’d never really made connections to anything that was a part of a code. Except that she’d founded so much of what she was on that fact, and now she was having to rewrite all of it. “You know, I actually think a lot of people have the whole humanity thing down. It’s just how they use it that matters.” She allowed Bex to take her hand, careful not to spill her drink, and lead her back to the main floor. “Sorry, I’m not particularly used to it. Ah, accepting compliments. Not my area.” She felt nice, though, when Bex said she was going to keep trying, even if it made her cheeks warm a bit with embarrassment. She looked over at the tables, deciding that it was probably a bad idea to go back to the one that they’d previously been at, but the only one open had the leprechauns at it. Mina pulled a face but went in that direction. “Okay, I’m not sure if I trust you, now. I’ve never been called smug in my entire life.” But she pulled up a seat for Bex and sat down herself, putting her chips down and motioning for the dealer to deal her in. The leprechauns turned, and she could barely make out their eyes staring at her before she looked away. Fae unity or not, she detested leprechauns.

“Well, me, too,” Bex shrugged, “all we can do is keep trying, though, right? And...we have each other, right?” And though Mina’s smile was soft and it cut through the more hardened part of the sentence, Bex could still feel the sorrow behind the words. “You know you can do both, yeah? Connect to nature and other people?” A little lighter this time, teasing in her voice as she squeezed Mina’s hand. She wanted that other smile to be on her face, not this one. “Hmmm,” she hummed in thought, “I guess you could have a point there. But hey, don’t apologize for that. Like I said, I’ll keep trying.” She wouldn’t mind doing that at all. She turned her head enough to make sure Mina saw the smile on her own face, pinching her eyes closed ever so slightly. It was only a little hypocritical, considering Bex herself often fought to accept compliments given to her, when they didn’t concern her looks or attractiveness. But how many people did she know who cared to compliment her intellect or enthusiasm?

Once they were on the floor again, Bex let Mina decide which table to head to, hand tight in hers. “Ah ah,” she said, sliding into her spot, “no take backs. You already said you trusted me, so now you’re stuck with me. Sorry not sorry.” A cheeky grin flashing from behind her glass as she took another drink, before reaching in to pluck out the cherry. “Besides, it’s not like it’s an obvious smug look,” she went on, looking over at Mina unassumingly as she popped the cherry into her mouth, tugging the stem off. “I just see it in your eyes.”

“Right,” Mina said quietly. She attempted to match Bex’s tone. “You know, I’m just as good at connecting with nature as I am with people. I fell out of a tree once, actually. My dad said I broke my leg in three places. He had to carry me to the end of the hike.” And then to a body of water to heal herself enough so that she could walk on her own, but that wasn’t worth mentioning. Not when it would have made Mina look unnatural. She didn’t even know why she said it in the first place; she was trying not to worry Bex. She shook her head a bit, but she was laughing. “If you keep trying, I’ll get a big head. Isn’t that what most people try to avoid? I don’t think it’d be a good look on me.”

Mina made a face. “Wait, no, fine. I mean, I trust you, but not about this funny face business, especially with the smug comment, and…” she trailed off before she looked away from Bex, back to her own drink, before she took a swallow. The leprechaun slammed the table with their chips, startling Mina a bit. When she looked down the table, the one on top was glaring at her. She stared back. She would not be cowed by a stack of little stone men. That would be ridiculous. She looked at her cards and motioned for the dealer to hit her for another before moving on. Who allowed leprechauns to play blackjack, anyway? Wouldn’t they be better at poker, with their little stone faces and their inability to communicate properly with humans? Then again, blackjack was more about hand gestures than speaking, but still, and it was certainly a good way to make money. Some of the chips had a certain shine to them that she was sure the leprechauns liked.

“Oh, geez,” Bex said, exasperated, “another story about a broken bone, huh? And I thought I was clumsy.” The truth was that she wasn’t really as clumsy as she let people believe-- though she was clumsy, and their hike up the falls had proven that to her-- but bruise after bruise meant story after story, and she’d only tried to tell the truth once before she realized that only made things worse. “I hope you’re more careful about climbing trees now, I don’t think I could carry you to a hospital. I’m not strong, like, at all. And Nell hasn’t taught me any levitation spells yet.” Another tease, even if she didn’t quite know what she was saying. And there it was, the smile she’d been waiting for. It was back. She bit her lip and raised a brow. “You know, I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides,” she answered, leaning into her again, “you might look good with a big head.”

Mina’s words trailed off but Bex wasn’t paying too much attention. She jumped slightly when the small, angry looking man slammed his chips onto the table and glowered at the two of them. God, where were all these grumpy men coming from? Then again, this town had always had them in spades, hadn’t it? Bex had learned that the hard way. Her father’s friends were not fond of her, and while as a child she hadn’t the slightest clue why, she understood now. Her grip tightened on Mina’s arm as she wrapped one hand around it, watching the game play out. She was trying to do what Mina had said, keep track of the cards, the highs and lows, but there was too much information being given too fast. The next thing she knew, the round was over. “Wait, did you win?” she asked, looking at Mina, then to the little man. “I missed it.”

“I’m not clumsy, I was just up too high,” Mina said. “The forces of gravity working against me hardly counts as clumsiness.” She did look at Bex, though, a bit confused. “Why would you have to carry me to the hospital?” It wasn’t like that warranted going to the hospital. Did it? She thought that place was for emergencies. “But of course I’m much more careful. I don’t climb trees anymore. No chance of falling and breaking two different kinds of limbs.” No, these days she just fell off cliffs into churning ocean water. Honestly, that was far more dangerous. She wasn’t bringing that one up again. She snorted. “No, I would not look good with a big head. Absolutely not.”

Mina looked down the table and readjusted in her seat as the chips went to the leprechauns. The top one’s expression didn’t change, but it radiated smugness. She wondered if they were from the little colony that had been on campus. Had being the appropriate word. She’d done a very good job at scaring them off. “No,” she said, scrunching up her nose a bit as she laid down more chips as the dealer started passing out cards again. She muttered, “They did.” Bloody leprechauns. Especially these ones. “It’s fine, really.” She trusted in her next hand, determined to pay more attention. She didn’t really get it. She rarely lost track of things like this.

“You call it gravity,” Bex pointed out, “I call it being clumsy. Don’t worry, there were plenty of times ‘clumsy’ was gravity for me, too. Now we match!” She leaned over, patting Mina’s arm comfortingly, as if she’d just been given a truth that was hard to bear. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Bex let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Because I’m not a med student, I’m pre-law and I only took one First-Aid class. You do not want me splinting a broken bone. I’d probably do more damage than help. But I do know CPR,” she tacked on with a grin, “you know...just in case.” She nodded, putting her chin back in her palm, watching Mina with amusement. “Mmmhmm, well, you never know until you try, right? Isn’t there a saying about that?”

Bex watched as all the chips were slid over to the frowning man, and she felt a tiny surge of anger as well. Sipped her drink again as she glared at him glaring at Mina. Well, now she really wanted MIna to beat him, if only to wipe that look off his face. She clung to Mina’s arm, watching the cards get doled out again, waiting to see how it would turn out. Her heart was racing again, as she watched Mina’s hand. Was it good? She hoped it was. It looked like it was. She only had a few cards. That was good, right? Mina had said fewer cards meant a better hand. Really, she didn’t even care if Mina won, she just didn’t want the angry man to win. It would be nice, though, if she did win. Bex barely even noticed her grip tightening on Mina’s arm as she waited with anticipation.

Mina narrowed her eyes just a bit before pulling a face, scrunching up her nose as she tried not to smile. “You’re teasing me. Stop it.” Or don’t, I really don’t mind, actually. It’s perfectly okay if you want to just keep teasing me for however long you like. She laughed. “Oh, well, if that’s the problem, then I can splint my own leg perfectly, actually. So, you won’t have to worry about that, Ms. Pre-Law. The CPR might be useful, though.” She leaned back, raising an eyebrow at the younger girl. “I’m quite certain that there are some things that shouldn’t be tried, like poisonous berries or, maybe, inflated egos. Maybe I’m wrong, though.”

Tapping her fingers against the table, Mina allowed a small smile to work its way onto her face as she won the hand, the chips being slid towards her. She heard the disgruntled clicks coming from the torso area of the stacked leprechauns, and, okay, maybe she was feeling just a bit smug. If she was, there was really only one person to blame. She smiled, first at Bex and then at the dealer, and then she raised her bet. One a hand. Raised it again. Wash, rinse, and repeat. The leprechauns weren’t the only people at the table getting frustrated. The dealer raised an eyebrow at her, but Mina simply asked, “Do you believe in luck.” He motioned toward where a pit boss was headed towards them, a frown on his face. “No, apparently not, right?” She looked between Bex, the chips, and the pit boss. “We, ah, we might have to leave.” Then moving closer, she quietly added, “Quickly, or do you remember what I told you happened the first time I played? There, ah, might be a repeat of that here.”

Bex put a hand to her chest, feigning offense. Fingers grazing wounds she’d nearly forgotten about in her delight from the evening. “I would never,” she scoffed, doing her best impression of a British accent. “Okay, show off. But how would you get back to town or to a doctor’s so you could heal properly, hmm? Would hate for you to regrow another bone wrong,” she said, raising a brow inquisitively. “You know someone had to try them first to find out they were bad ideas, though. Would it help if I told you I’d probably still like you, even if you had a big head? You’re like, pretty much the only one that tolerates my history gibberish.”

Bex quieted as she watched, with increasing fascination, as Mina won. Hand, after hand, after hand. Their chips were piling up! It wasn’t even about the money, Bex didn’t need money, but it was might satisfying watching everyone else-- especially that stone-faced man-- lose theirs. Steal from the rich, give to the-- well, okay, that metaphor didn’t apply, but Bex did like proving people wrong. She hadn’t even noticed the angry look on the dealer’s face, or the rather scary looking man ina suit heading towards them until Mina pointed it out. “What?” Bex asked, looking up. Her gaze followed Mina’s over and she inhaled sharply. “Hmm, you know what? I, uh-- I think I’ve had enough cards for one night, yep! We should, ah-- we’re just gonna--” Sliding out of her seat, keeping a tight hold on Mina’s hand. She stopped for just a brief moment to finish off her drink, before turning and tugging MIna after her. They definitely could not get caught, and not just because Mina was card counting. There were at least two other illegal things they’d done here, and both of them were about Bex. “C’mon, c’mon,” she urged, looking behind her to see the very disgruntled security man trailing after them. She weaved her way through the tables with ease, despite the increasing pain in her chest that seemed to be smothered by the adrenaline of the situation. Pushed out the same door they’d come in, laughing as they ducked past the bouncer outside and into the cool night air.

Once they were far enough away Bex was sure they wouldn’t be followed, she finally stopped, still beaming. “You know,” she panted, a little winded, “I don’t think I’ve ever been thrown out of somewhere before!”

Mina opened her mouth slightly in shock before she snapped it shut and then gave a small laugh. She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t need to find a doctor, you know I wouldn’t need a doctor, I’d just need to find something to support me while looking for shelter.” Specifically, a body of water. Then she could heal over the course of a few days enough to eventually make it back to wherever she was supposed to be headed. She hummed. “Alright, let’s get this clear, shall we? I don’t think your history talk is gibberish. It’s fascinating, especially to someone who has no real prior knowledge about any of what you’re talking on. I like it. I like hearing you talk.”

There wasn’t really much time for conversation as they made their escape, the chips left deserted on the table and the top leprechaun’s stone stare following them through the crowd whenever Mina had the chance to look back. But she let Bex lead her, directing them passed the tables, passed the security guards. Mina gave one of them an apologetic wave and resigned herself to being on her best behavior the next time that she came to the Stacked Deck unless she had another reason not to be. Another reason like the sound of Bex’s laugh as they made it out into open air, happy and breathless, and, wow, Mina could only compare this to an adrenaline rush during a fight, except it wasn’t quite like that, not really, and she didn’t really know what to do with it. She looked at Bex, laughing. “Yes, well, usually, when I get thrown out of places, it’s a bit more dramatic than this. I think they stopped caring here when they realized I’d left the money.”

All Bex could see in this moment was Mina’s smile. Her face, framed perfectly by her hair, that chocolate-y shade of brown that reflected the moonlight just right. Bex’s breath was coming out in front of her in little puffs of air as she huffed to catch her breath-- she knew most of it was because her body was still trying to catch up to itself while it healed, but there was something else there, and she knew it. Her entire body even felt like it was vibrating, she barely heard what Mina was saying. She was just stuck, staring at her, feeling something building in her chest. Something so odd and yet distantly familiar she couldn’t help but want to feel it more. To understand what it was. And maybe she did understand, but right now all that mattered was this moment, her body flushed with excitement and a happiness she’d rarely felt. And she grabbed onto those feelings and she just...acted. Something Bex rarely, if ever, did. And the impulse came as her stepping forward to close the distance between her and Mina and cupping Mina’s face with her hands and pressing her lips to Mina’s in a flurry of emotions. And, oh, wow, did it feel nice, so nice. It just made her heart pound harder and faster and all the air in her lungs left, and after only a short moment she had to pull away to gasp for breath, still holding onto Mina.

And then the reality of what she��d done slammed her into the cement and Bex felt her entire body go cold, save for the burning in her chest. She let go of Mina and stepped back. “I--” she didn’t know what to say, she had no words, cold and frozen on her tongue. “I’m so sorry,” she managed to say, “I’m so-- I didn’t mean to-- I should’ve asked, I’m sorry.” Because what else was she supposed to say?

Fight. Flight. Freeze. Mina was very good at freezing, at going still in the face of something coming at her. Sometimes, she believed if she stood strong enough, she could be prepared for whatever was coming at her. Nothing could have prepared Mina for getting kissed. Really, she hadn’t expected it. Not that she’d never been kissed before! She had! But those times it had been expected, and it just… it never ended well. It was hard for things to end well when the ways that she saw herself and the ways that other people saw her were so… not well. But this was unexpected, and it was nice, and Mina didn’t think that Bex saw the way hunters and slayers and wardens-- and Mina herself-- saw her. She couldn’t breathe, for just a moment, couldn’t think, couldn’t really do anything, and just when her brain started to feel less like a jumble of ones and zeros in an order that didn’t make sense, Bex was pulling away, and Mina was left standing there blinking with her mouth half open trying to figure out what was going on.

“Wait,” Mina said. “Wait, wait, wait.” She reached out for Bex’s hand before pulling back, reaching out again, opening her mouth, closing it, trying to figure out what to do. “Wait,” she said again because apparently that was the only thing she could actually figure out how to coherently say. Words, she needed to say words, more than just one. “You-- I--” Good, yes, incredible. She’d kick herself if she was able to. “You’re sorry?” she finally managed to ask. She swallowed tightly, before looking into Bex’s eyes, at her lips. Mina licked her own. “I mean, if-- if you’d asked, the, ah, the outcome. It would have, well, I mean, it would have been the same, really, so you just sort of skipped a step or two.”

Wait. The word made Bex pause. Mina said it four more times and still Bex didn’t move. She watched her with her own wide-eyed stare, hands shaking, as Mina’s mind seemed to crank back to life. Was she mad? Was she upset? Was she going to leave? Bex wouldn’t blame her. She hadn’t meant to. The feeling of the moment had just grabbed her and whisked her away and maybe, at heart, she’d always been this oddly impulsive. But her heart was still pounding, and her mouth felt dry and she watched Mina looking at her, and watched her lick her own lips and felt her heart squeeze and-- Mina said she didn’t mind. Perhaps had even liked it, from what Bex could parse out of her jumbled sentence. It was Bex’s turn to stutter. “You-- if I--” swallowed the lump in her throat, vibrating. She reflexively reached out and met Mina’s hand between them, “it was okay?” Was that really the problem here? Making sure it was okay? Even to Bex, it was clear it was, now. “I can--” she started again, moving a little bit closer, “--do you want me to...do it again?” Her voice was shaky and her breath was hot, but she moved in closer again, feeling the pull inside of her own chest telling her to do it. Do it again because it was the best she’d felt in literal years. And she wanted to, fuck did she want to. “Cause I can do that. I can definitely do that, i-if you want.”

“Bex,” Mina said, and she laughed a little bit, unable to truly catch her breath. “It was okay. It was more than okay, actually, really much more than okay.” So much more than okay. Stupidly more than okay. Mina wasn’t breathing properly. That was the only logical explanation to this lightheadedness, this tightness in her chest. But it was altogether quite illogical, really. She looked at their hands, laced their fingers together. “Please,” she said. She brought her free hand to Bex’s face, lightly stroking the younger girl’s cheek. “I want that.” She wanted it a lot, more than she could say, in any language, and Mina was practically fluent in three. She wanted it like she’d wanted so few things in her life because she’d never been given the opportunity to properly want things, hadn’t really understood that wanting was something she could do, and now that she’s started really, actually wanting something, something like this, well. She couldn’t just stop now, could she? They were close. They were so close, and all that Mina could do was nod her head and close her eyes and say again, “Yes, I want that a lot.” And, honestly, Mina would have kissed Bex herself if she wasn’t a coward, but even when she knew what she wanted, she was so, so scared that it’d be taken away, even if the probability of that was low. Bex had kissed her first! But it could be a joke. But it probably wasn’t. But it could be. So Mina just had to say what she wanted and hope, hope, hope for the best. Blackjack wasn’t real gambling. This was.

This wasn’t what Bex was supposed to want, but there was that saying, right? The heart wants what it wants? And, really, how often had Bex gotten what she wanted? Probably never. Maybe never. Her mind tried to find something to prove herself wrong, to prove that she didn’t have to give in to this strange, yet wonderful feeling inside of her, because her life was fine. Just fine. And she didn’t need this to make her happy, she could be happy in other ways, right? But it found nothing, and maybe she hadn’t wanted it to. Definitely hadn’t wanted it to. “Okay,” was all she said, barely nodding, because she was afraid if she started talking again she wouldn’t stop. And right now she didn’t want to talk, she wanted to kiss Mina. So she did, leaning into her this time, pressing their lips together gently. Fingers intertwined, Mina’s hand on her cheek, there wasn’t possibly anything else Bex could have wanted in that moment. She even let her free hand grab onto the fabric of Mina’s shirt and bunch it up and kiss her just a little more desperately, because who knew when she’d get something like this again. Who knew when this was going to simply slip through her fingers, like all good things did. And this time, when she had to pull away to breath, she didn’t say anything-- just looked at Mina and hoped she wasn’t dreaming.

The second kiss was better than the first, and, really, Mina could have asked for a third, possibly even a fourth, but they were just standing there, out in the open, and, wow, Mina really wanted this. She could stay in this moment and just enjoy it if she was allowed to, for as long as she was allowed to. But she and Bex both needed to breathe. She kept her eyes closed for just a moment longer, trying to slow down her rapidly beating heart with a few deep, even breaths. When she opened her eyes, Bex was staring at her. She hoped she wasn’t blushing too hard. Impulsively, she rushed forward and gave Bex a soft peck before pulling away just as quickly, smiling contentedly. She hoped she didn’t look like a fool. She probably looked like a fool. Did she even care that much, though, really? “Yeah.” Mina cleared her throat. “Yeah, that was-- That was absolutely more than okay. Just, I mean, just so you know.” She paused, eyes widening a bit. “I mean, actually, unless it wasn’t okay for you, in which case, and are you alright? You seem alright, but--” she laughed nervously. “Um, yeah. Yeah.”

It was Bex’s turn to just smile, the grin spreading across her lips as she watched Mina and listened to her fumble over her words. They really were quite similar, weren't they? Bex waited patiently for Mina to finish before she reached out to brush Mina’s hair behind her ear again. “Like you said, it was more than okay. And I’m okay.” She gave a short nod-- it wasn’t a lie. “I’m really okay.” Squeezed her hand tighter, rolling her lip between her teeth before she glanced around them. Her gaze landed back on Mina. “I really like your smile,” she said quietly, wondering if she could get Mina to blush anymore than she already was. She didn’t want to leave this spot, but it was getting colder outside and they were sort of in the middle of a public parking lot, and if someone hadn’t already seen them, they surely would soon. She tugged on Mina’s hand gently as she motioned towards the parking lot, walking backwards so she wouldn’t have to look away from her for too long. And if she fell, she knew Mina would catch her. “We should probably get back,” she commented, still hoping this moment wasn’t just a dream, or that she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow and immediately regret everything. Or even that this would make things weird between them. She wasn’t even sure what this meant, but those were all things for her to worry about tomorrow. For tonight, she would just give herself this. This one small thing that made her happy. “If you’re not too tired, we could watch another movie. You know, there’s still three Jurassic Parks left to watch.”

Mina managed to laugh. Relief, overwhelmingly so. “Good, good. That’s good.” She could be okay with this. Was this that whole ‘going after what you want’ thing that she’d been told about so much? Because, if it was, and the results were this positive? She could stand to do it a bit more often. Really, she could. Her smile managed to brighten as she said, “I like yours, too, you know. It’s cute.” It was cute and sweet and kind of wonderful when it reached Bex’s eyes, and every time Mina saw it, she couldn’t get enough. She let Bex lead the way back to the car before she unlocked and opened the passenger side door for her. “You’re right, absolutely. It’s late.” She’d really like it if this didn’t end, if she could just hold on to this moment and the lightness and heaviness and overwhelmingness of it all. How often does someone like Mina get things that she would like to hold onto? Not particularly often, actually. Maybe more than usual in the last year, but she could probably count the occasions out on both hands. She walked around to the driver’s side and got in, looking at Bex seriously. “Three more movies? Well, actually, I don’t think I know nearly enough about dinosaurs, so I guess we’ll have to watch at least one to fix that.”

Well that backfired. Now Bex was blushing, hiding her face against her shoulder as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks, a smile permanently on her lips. “That’s objective,” she said, “and I think you’re a little biased at this point.” She climbed into the car when Mina opened the door for her and folded her hands into her lap as she waited, turning to look at the other girl as she hopped in the driver’s side. “Yep,” she answered simply, giving a toothy grin, “and they’re working on one more right now. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of dino content to help catch you up.” She really wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss Mina again-- she’d never kissed anyone in a car-- but opted for just placing a hand on her knee. Leaning over to kiss someone seemed as if it might strain her injury and then Mina would probably get worried and the whole night might be ruined. Bex didn’t want that at all. The drive home somehow seemed longer, but maybe it was because Bex was desperate to be out of the car and close to Mina again. She’d never felt like this before, never ached to be near someone. It went against everything she told herself she was, and everything her parents told her not to be. She didn’t want that to matter right now, though. She could figure out the complicated stuff tomorrow, when her head was on right.

Bex opened the front door to Morgan’s as quietly as possible as she held on to Mina’s hand, slipping inside with her. It was quiet, but she knew Morgan and Deirdre rarely slept. Bex felt as if she’d slept too much these past few days, but it was getting better. And she somehow figured she’d sleep really well tonight. “C’mon,” she murmured, “we can watch in my room. There’s a TV in there.”

It was nice, Mina thought, to be the one teasing instead of getting teased. “Yes, well, I don’t think I’m the only biased one here, so.” She was beginning to recognize the feeling she felt as something akin to being mildly intoxicated, which was actually quite impossible, since she’d barely had one drink, and she didn’t start feeling anything for a bit. But that was the only comparison that she had to draw from that wasn’t violent, and so maybe she needed to worry about that. If she was feeling buzzed off of one drink, something might possibly be wrong. Unless this wasn’t that at all. In which case, she was confused. Bex’s hand was warm on Mina’s knee. She kind of wanted to kiss Bex again. “See? I was worried. Three more movies is not nearly enough dino content.” She could barely remember what happened through the first movie because she and Bex definitely ended up falling asleep.

Mina let Bex lead her inside, trying to be quiet. Really, what she should do is excuse herself for a bit and go to the pool; since Bex had woken up, Mina hadn’t been able to go in the water and just stay there for extended periods of time like she used to. It was hard to do such things with a human in the house who would definitely notice a water nymph hanging around the pool, especially if that water nymph was actually someone that she spent time with. Instead, she followed after Bex, saying, “I’m right behind you.” It was fine. She could always just soak in the tub later.

Bex could list all the reason this was a bad idea off the top of her head, if she’d wanted to. But she didn’t. Maybe it was time for her to just make all those bad decisions that had been hiding themselves inside of her. It wasn’t like there was anyone to tell her not to. There was no one around that would stop her, or tell her she shouldn’t, or tell her this wasn’t the way she should be acting. There was only her wants and her needs and everything else be damned, she wanted to feel good for once. Even if none of it stuck tomorrow, she wanted tonight to stay. She didn’t want these feelings to end, this emotional high she was riding. She led Mina up to her room and closed the door, turning around to face her. She didn’t move to turn on the TV, but instead reached up to smooth down the collar of Mina’s shirt. “I’ll um,” she started, but her heart was hammering in her chest again and she was sure Mina could hear it, “I’ll put on the movie, if you want to just--” she paused, looking into her eyes-- “sit on the bed.” On her bed. In her room. The one and only other time she’d ever had someone alone in her room like this it had turned out catastrophic. Turned her entire life upside down and dumped her here, stuck under the scrutiny of her parents’ thumb. Would this turn out like that? She really hoped not. She still hadn’t moved, she needed to move. She didn’t want to move.

One of Bex’s hands was on the collar of Mina’s shirt. It was a bit distracting, not unlike the hand on her knee or literally any time Bex had touched her at all over the period of the entire night. It was always a shock, whenever people touched her so carefree, something she’d only started getting somewhat used to since coming to White Crest, and Bex did it a lot, and it was lovely, really, it was, but it was also so distracting, and how did people think like this, anyway? She managed a teasing smile, very little thought required. “Right, of course, I can go sit on the bed.” One of Bex’s hands was on the collar of Mina’s shirt. Mina squeezed the other one from where it was still firmly laced with hers. “As soon as you let go?” Just like earlier, it felt good to tease, to have fun, to not have to be so serious or nervously, anxiously energetic. Mina had a lot of energy, all the time, far too much of it, really. She’s always wondered if that was a Fae thing, a desire to always be getting into something, causing mischief, running away. She’d assumed that any sort of mischief had been carefully and methodically worked out of her system years ago. It was nice to know that it wasn’t. She moved closer to Bex. “Or we could just stand here?”

Bex could feel her entire body warming up. The blush from cheeks was spreading to her entire face, perhaps even down her neck and to her chest where her heart pounded against her ribs. Mina was closer now and Bex heard blood rushing through her ears. “Right,” she agreed, not looking down at their intertwined hands at all, “I just have to...let go.” It felt as if the words were meant for more than just referring to their hands. Just let go. Of everything that had been holding her back up until this moment. Just let go, of all the pain and hiding and denial. Just let go, of pleasing everyone else before herself. Just let go. But she didn’t let go of Mina. Instead she dug her hand into Mina’s shirt again, fingers bunching up cloth, and tugged her closer. If this was the only night she got to feel this way, to be this way, then she wanted to make sure she used every opportunity to have it. “Or you could kiss me again,” she suggested quietly, “while we stand here.” Her voice was wavering, but she’d never felt more sure about anything, about what she wanted. “Because I kinda don’t want to let go.”

They were just standing there in front of the door, facing each other, and all Mina could think was, Oh. There wasn’t much else going on in her head except for that and the fact that, why, yes, she could kiss Bex. She could just lean in-- not far, they were already so close-- and kiss her, and, wow, okay, yeah. She could do that. So she did that, leaning in slowly but surely, one hand tightening a bit on Bex’s while the other moved to Bex’s hair. Kissing Bex made Mina feel warm and light and fuzzy, all kinds of soft feelings that she felt would turn her into a puddle if she lingered too long. Maybe this was what happened to nixies when they got so happy they just died from it; they turned into a puddle of water and soaked back into the earth. But she didn’t particularly want to stop, not yet, not when she didn’t really know if she was going to be able to keep doing this. Nice things didn’t stay. Bex could wake up the next day and laugh in Mina’s face, but, really, if she could just enjoy this moment, for a moment, maybe that could be enough. It’d make this whole wanting thing worth it. When they both seemed to need to breathe she pulled away, her hand still in Bex’s hair. She had such soft hair. She ran her hand through it, unable to keep the uncertainty out of her voice. “Ah, good?”

Was it supposed to feel this good? It wasn’t supposed to feel this good. This wasn’t supposed to feel good. But, god, did it ever. It felt so good. Bex didn’t want to stop, even to breath. She wanted to keep kissing Mina, with their hands intertwined and Mina’s hand in her hair and Bex’s hand bunching up her shirt. Or maybe she’d be okay with moving somewhere else, as long as they kept kissing. She didn’t care about watching a movie anymore, or pretending like she wanted to watch a movie. When Mina pulled away, Bex stayed close, leaning into her. “Good,” she exhaled breathlessly, hoping to quell the uncertainty in MIna’s voice, “really good.” So good, in fact, she didn’t really want to keep talking about it. So she just leaned in again and pretended like they’d never stopped in the first place, gently prodding Mina to walk back towards the bed. She unfurled their hands in order to get a better grip on Mina as she kissed her and she pretended like nothing else in the world mattered. Because, really, it didn’t. It simply didn’t. Not right now. There wasn’t even that strange, growing dread in her stomach like last time she’d kissed a girl this much. There wasn’t even that little voice in the back of her head telling her this was wrong. This was just...all that mattered. All that she cared about. All that she wanted. And god damnit, she was going to take it.

Mina allowed Bex to back her up towards the bed, using her recently freed hand to feel around behind her to make sure that she didn’t just hit it and fall over. Nothing about kissing should be this interesting and overencompasing and so much, but Mina felt stupid with it, giddy with it. Her hand hit the bed, followed by her knees, and she rocked forward, winding both hands into Bex’s hair, unable and unwilling to break away. Could she keep this, please? Just for a bit? She’d like this for a moment, maybe longer, maybe two moments, something that could last long enough for her to know that it was real. Because things like this were usually fake, and that was fine, really! She was used to it. Mina just didn’t think she deserved nice things. This was kind of a given, but she wanted them, and she wanted this, her fingers in Bex’s hair. And it seemed so real, and it just kept going on. She brushed the side of Bex’s face with her thumb. Eventually, she broke away briefly, momentarily, because she needed to breathe, before kissing Bex again. And again. And again.

Bex would have believed this was a dream, had she not been able to feel Mina’s hands in her hair. Her lips against her own. This had to be a dream, though, right? For so long, Bex had been so afraid of dreaming again. Of being in that place again. But if this was what was there this time, then maybe she didn’t mind so much. No, she definitely didn’t mind at all. Mina’s knees hit the bed and their progress stopped and in the back of Bex’s head she knew they should stop for a moment to adjust, the tinge of pain in her chest reminding her why, but she didn’t want to. Not yet. Just a second longer. Just a little more. Her chest heaved after a moment and she had to pull back to breath. Her face was on fire and, actually, her entire body felt like it was on fire. She prodded Mina to sit back on the bed and climbed up next to her, breathing heavily. She leaned back in, brushing her lips against Mina’s gently while she still struggled to breath through the pounding in her chest. She didn’t want this to end, and more than that, she didn’t want Mina to leave. Sleep didn’t seem so hard with Mina around. And maybe if she never left, it would mean that this wouldn’t have to end. “Will you stay with me?” she asked under her breath, forehead pressed to Mina’s. “Just...for the night?”

There was a distinct lack of a lot going on in Mina’s head. She almost always had something going on, too much, really. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t let anyone see what you are. Be on guard. Remember what you’re doing in class tomorrow. A thousand numbers and phrases and reminders going off all the time, like the reminder that she really shouldn’t stay the night, that she should go relax for a bit, that she should go and sit on the bottom of the floor and think very intensely about what was happening. But Mina didn’t get that reminder. Instead, there was just Bex, and the feeling of Bex’s lips on hers, and the way their foreheads were pressed together. “Yeah, yes, I can stay tonight.” She could absolutely stay the night. Now that the option was there, she clearly, very much wanted to stay the night. Even if she was mildly uncomfortable and had to make up for it later, she wanted this. So much. She didn’t even really know how to comprehend how much she wanted it. Her brain still wasn’t working as well as it should be. Still, she knew enough to ask, “Are you okay?”

Whatever signals Bex’s brain usually gave her that something was probably a bad idea, or that she wasn’t supposed to do something, were completely shut off right now. In fact, her mind was barely functioning, because all of her concentration was on Mina’s eyes and her lips and trying to calm down her own, rapid heartbeat. Her cheeks were warm, so warm, and Mina’s hands were still holding her face and she pressed into Mina’s palm, because what else was she supposed to do? They were so soft and comforting. She drew in a breath, held it for a moment. She needed to calm down, but how was she supposed to do that, when they were still so close and Mina had said she’d stay. She nodded, perhaps a bit more hastily than she should have. “I’m okay,” she insisted, and she was. Really, she was. She looked up into Mina’s eyes, then. “But you-- you’re sure?” she managed to stutter, hands still buried in the cloth of her shirt. She knew the answer, she did, but she had to make sure. Had to make sure this was real and her mind wasn’t tricking her, and then once she was sure, maybe her heart would stop pounding out of her chest and she could kiss Mina again. She clung to her as if she was the only thing keeping her grounded right now, and if she let go, she would simply fall through the Earth and cease to exist. “You’ll stay?” And maybe she was asking too much, but hadn’t she suffered enough? Didn’t she, too, deserve something nice?

“Yes, absolutely sure. Really, really sure, actually,” Mina said. Bex’s hand was still clutching her shirt, and she was so close, and, really, what else could she possibly say? The thought of leaving and going back to her room or the pool or just being anywhere that wasn’t in that room, in that moment, seemed impossible. If Mina wasn’t Fae and didn’t know any better, she would think that Bex was a leanan-sidhe with poisonous, perfect kisses, stripping Mina of any ability to want to do anything else. She should have known, probably, what this feeling was, that tightness that had been growing in her chest, warm and painful and happy, since she’d first started really talking to Bex. And she had, but it hadn’t solidified until she felt Bex’s lips on hers? She didn’t think so. She’d never been taught what to do with this. She’d never been taught how to handle this kind of good hurt. She leaned forward again, and gave Bex a soft kiss, gentle and lingering for only a moment before pulling away again. “I want to stay tonight, as long as you want me to.” She moved one of her hands from Bex’s face and held out her pinky. I am not saying the words, but this is proof that I mean this. I mean this. I mean this.

“Of course I want you to stay,” Bex exhaled, nuzzling into Mina’s hand still on her face. “I want you to stay.” She felt more words bubbling up in her throat, begging to be let out. I want you, I want you, I want you. Words she’d thought a million times over, words that someone else had heard her think. But she swallowed them down, because they scared her. It absolutely frightened her, the prospect of happiness. Instead, she held up her own hand and locked pinkies with Mina and she meant it. She meant it. She wanted nothing more than to make sure this lasted as long as possible. So with their pinkies hooked, she leaned forward again and kissed her and poured all of her thoughts into the action. Whatever the world held for them tomorrow, they could figure it out, then. This was all that mattered. This, just this. This and only this. She pulled Mina with her as she laid back on the bed and finally moved her hands from Mina’s shirt, circling them around Mina’s shoulders and pulling her closer. If that was possible. She was staying, she was staying, she was staying. It was hard to believe. People didn’t stay. But Mina was staying. And Bex wanted her to stay. And her stomach felt tight, and warm, and floaty all at the same time. It was nothing like the last time she’d kissed a girl. Mina was nothing like her. She could trust Mina. She could want Mina. She pulled away after a moment and looked up into Mina’s eyes. “I--” she started, but stopped, words bubbling in her throat, “tonight was-- I just want to tell you…” took a breath, “T-word. For tonight. I-- I really liked it. Being with you. Out. Being out with you.” She was beginning to feel her nerves build up again. She needed to shut up. Her hands shook again and she shut herself up by pulling Mina back down to her and smothering her own lips. She should’ve done this sooner, she realized. Why hadn’t she done this sooner?

Then it was simple. Mina would stay. She’d do anything to hold onto this moment for as long as she possibly could. She squeezed Bex’s pinky with hers while they kissed, the promise of it lacing in her stomach. She could feel it in the way that Bex kissed her, in the way that she kissed back, and it was comforting in a way that promises rarely were. She could enjoy this. This wasn’t something to fear. It wasn’t a weight bearing down on her chest, something cold and metallic in the back of her throat like a reminder. It was solid, and real, and okay. Smiling against Bex’s lips, Mina wrapped one arm around Bex and got close, using the other to prop herself up. She pulled away, breathing heavy. “You really don’t have to thank me, you know. Or, even, not thank me, in this case. I really liked it, too.” She had to get it all out quickly, as quickly as possible. “I always like hanging out with you, whether we’re doing something like tonight at the falls or just drinking tea and watching movies. I’m not very good with saying these things, but-- but--” But she kissed Bex again, and, really, that was just as good as words, right? It seemed to be working pretty effectively for both of them, so far. And, sure, she knew that eventually they would get tired and need to breathe, but that was later. This was now.

But what, Bex wanted to ask, but what? But, well, that would require breaking the kiss, and why would she do that? She could ask later, when she had to breathe. Or maybe she just wouldn’t ask at all. Maybe they didn’t need to talk anymore. Hadn’t they spent all night talking? Maybe they could do with talking less, even if words tried to fight their way onto Bex’s tongue. It was just nerves, when she got nervous, she just started talking. She didn’t want to do that here. She wanted to just do this. But when they broke to breathe once more, she couldn’t help it. Her hands went up to Mina’s face, cupping her jaw, thumbs brushing her now rosy cheeks. “But I wanted to,” she huffed, her breaths coming up heavy, “I want to. You won’t let me say it, anyway.” She smiled, she couldn’t help it. She always smiled around Mina. “I like spending time with you, too. Doing anything,” her words got quieter, “but I think...I really like doing this.” But what? She still wanted to ask. She strained a bit to move herself up to press a soft kiss to Mina’s lips, lingering, before she laid back down. “But what?”

“‘Course I won’t let you say it,” Mina said, her eyes closing without her really wanting them to as she leaned in to Bex’s touch. “Saying thank you is like,” she paused, thinking it over, “it’s like owing something. Some even find it offensive, but it’s more about the owing of something. It’s saying ‘I thank you for this thing and owe you a favor’ for it, which can be something you don’t want, right? And you don’t owe me anything, ever.” She looked up briefly and smiled, and, when Bex kissed her again, she hummed in the back of her throat, not really realizing that Bex said something when she pulled away and Mina realized she needed to say something. Her eyebrows furrowed. “But what?” What ‘but what?’ What did ‘but what’ have to do with anything? Oh. Wait. “I’m not very good at saying these things, or any things, really without getting it all mixed up, sometimes, but I mean this. I like doing this. I really-- fuck.” She didn’t say that often, old habits of always being so careful of what she said hard to shake off. “I really like this, being with you, spending time with you.” She leaned over and kissed Bex because she couldn’t not, propping herself on her arms. She pulled away just a bit, her eyes tightly closed. Her voice felt rough as she said, “I’m so happy around you, and I don’t know what to do about that. I’ve never been like this before.” It was concerning. It was terrifying. It was really, really nice.

The words were strange. Bex had spent her entire life owing people things. She’d never realized the innocuousness of the words, either. How they could be said in kindness and taken in maliciousness. “Okay,” she answered quietly, “I won’t say it.” Even if she knew she wouldn’t mind owing Mina. Even if she knew she’d do anything for Mina. Bex did her best to look up into Mina’s eyes as she spoke, feeling her heartbeat increasing with each word Mina said. Even let out a small giggle when Mina cursed, biting her lip. She let her hands brush into Mina’s hair gently before coming back around to smooth down the front of her shirt again, palms flat. Bex licked her lips, felt her heart beating in her throat. “You could just...keep doing this? Because...I like being around you, too. You make me happy, or make me feel like everything’s going to be okay. That one day...I’ll be okay.” It was terribly, horribly frightening, that prospect. That one day Bex could be truly happy. That one day, maybe, she didn’t have to live her life in debt to someone else. That one day, maybe her life would be her own. That maybe Morgan was right, she did deserve to be happy. Gently, she prodded Mina to sit up again, still staying close to her. She moved them so that they were laying properly in the bed now, and curled up beside her, moving the hair from her face. “We can just...have this. Can’t we?”

“If you want to say it, you can, but I won’t accept,” Mina said quietly. “As I’ve said, it’s better to appreciate things, or to be grateful, or to simply do something in return. An equivalent exchange, right? That’s always better. It’s harder to twist those things, make them ugly. I’d never do that, though, even if you said ‘thank you.’ I’d never, I p-- you know.” She was having trouble focusing again, but she did her best to remain in the moment, to keep listening, to not get lost inside her head or heart over what she wanted versus what she feared could possibly happen. Honestly, if she woke up from this at the bottom of the pool, she was going to scream. “I could, quite honestly, keep doing this, yes. Easily. I’d really like it.” Is she allowed this? Can she please keep this? Mina felt a bit like she was going to shatter at the thought that Bex wanted this just as much as she did. It hurt, but in a good way, like when something was healing, and it was settling back into the right position, and that made it hurt, but it’d all be better as long as it got the chance to heal. “We can have this,” she said, laying down but never looking away from Bex. You deserve such good things, and I would like to give them to you if I can. She pulled Bex’s hands to her lips as she nodded. “We can have this.”

“I never really...thought about it that way,” Bex said quietly, “and, well, I appreciate you. But you already know that. Right?” she looked up into her eyes, pleading with her quietly, to say that yes, she did, she knew that. “I know you wouldn’t. Do that to me. I know.” She leaned in closer, kissing her softly, as if punctuating her statement that she knew. She knew Mina would never hurt her like that. She knew. And maybe that, even if she did, she would forgive her. When she pulled away again, she stayed close by, close enough to feel the warmth of Mina’s breath. She let her pull her hand up to her lips and felt something flood through her entire body. It was a strange sense of peace. It made her entire body relax as she realized that, in this moment, there wasn’t a single thing in the world that could hurt her. Not her magic, not her parents, not the world in her sleep that kept threatening to take her back-- not even the thing that caused the scabs on her chest. Mina was safe. She let out a long breath, then, and decided everything was okay. She moved her hand to intertwine her fingers with Mina’s again, before she moved herself forward, and nestled against Mina’s chest, sighing. “I’m so grateful for you, Mina,” she whispered against her chest, eyes already growing tired.

You say that now, but you could change your mind, and I absolutely wouldn’t even blame you, not with everything that I keep from you, Mina thought, but she just smiled. “I appreciate you, too. That feels like a given, at this point.” The world was round, the ocean was dangerous, and Mina appreciated Bex Ochsenstein. These were some of the well-known facts of the universe. She couldn’t imagine her life anymore without Bex in it. It wasn’t that she didn’t remember life outside of the other girl; she did. Every scar was a lesson, every lesson refused to properly fade from her brain, even though she was trying to change and be better. She still had that training, and she still had school, and she still had the whole getting better at ‘being a person’ thing that she tried to work on with varying degrees of success. But being with Bex kind of… made all of that sort of fade into the background sometimes. It was still there, but it wasn’t the most important thing. Being in this moment with Bex was the most important thing, and that was so utterly scary as much as it was comforting. Mina wrapped her arms around Bex and moved up to rest her chin on top of Bex’s head. Quietly, she said, “Ich genieße jede sekunde mit dir.” Sometimes, things were easier when they were harder for other people to understand.

As her eyes drifted closed, Bex realized that this feeling in her chest was a brand new one. Mina’s arms were wrapped around her, and it was with a startle that she realized she’d never had this before. She’d never felt safe in someone’s arms before. Safe and warm and comforting. She supposed that was partially her own fault-- she didn’t usually get this close to people, and even then, she rarely let them hug her or hold her. And she understood, ultimately, that Morgan’s arms would never hurt her. And though they brought her comfort, she was too used to arms and hands meaning pain, false comfort, punishment. But no, not here, not now. Not in Mina’s arms. Her heart had finally settled, even if Bex still felt as if she were floating. Both floating and grounded all at once. She pressed in closer to Mina and let out a sigh, moving to rest one of her hands on Mina’s side. She heard the words but they were foreign to her ears. Still, somehow, she understood enough of their meaning. Their intent. “I know,” was the last thing she murmured before she fell asleep, softly and soundly and knowing, for once, that she would wake up alright.

#chatzy #chatzy: mina #wickedswriting #the real gamble #mina #domestic abuse mention tw #//this one's longer and i'm so sorry #alksdjf #i'm not tho

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inspirationdivine · 4 years ago

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A Bad Hand || Lydia and Beatrice

Timing: Current Parties: @inspirationdivine @beatrice-blaze, and Kevin the stack of leprechauns Summary: Lydia and Beatrice play poker with cards and secrets. Alternatively, a graphical summary

Going back to the Stacked Deck had been strange for Bea the first time. The regulars had plenty of questions for her, ones she had no energy to answer. She shared a nod with Chuck as she slipped in, heading to a table in the corner after getting her drink. She tended to avoid this one, wary of the suspicious player that seemed to frequent it, not wanting to deal with any more leprechauns after her run-in with Kaden. Still, it helped her avoid the more curious people in the hall. Settling into a seat, she crossed her legs as she glanced around the table. The woman next to her was elegant, something Bea could appreciate in a Bend bar. Cutting a glance to the chair hosting the stack of leprechauns, she asked, amused, “Already on a roll, or am I in luck today?”

“Dealer’s just about to deal, we can make space for you yet,” Lydia replied with a smile, looking up at the woman. She’d seen her before, looking full of life and warmth before, but Lydia usually preferred to play with a more exclusive crowd. Downstairs, occasionally with kittens. That said, there was nothing quite like playing with poorly disguised leprechauns, her skin prickling from the close contact with them. This woman though? Apart from a turtleneck in summer, not much else to comment on her about. “Are you joining?”

Nervous ticks that Bea had kicked years ago were reemerging, fingers tapping against the glass base of her drink. She knew she was safe here, Chuck would never let something happen in the Deck. She had her knife on her, it’s holster pinching into her thigh as a reminder of the easy access she had to it. She was safe here. She curled her fingers into a fist, annoyed that she hadn’t caught the tick before it began. “I think I will. I’ve spent far too long away from the table.” Gambling with money was safe, at least, safer than the gambles she recently made. Arranging her chips, she smiled to the other woman, “I hope nothing too interesting happened when I was gone. Being out of the loop is no fun.”

A nervous player. Lydia didn’t much mind that at all, careful not to show that she’d seen the anxious finger tapping against the table. Then that same hand curled into a fist, an awareness of her nervous habit that held information in its own right. Someone was off their game. All that meant was better odds for Lydia. “Oh, how long? Well, allow me to do quick introductions. I’m Lydia, this is Killian, Jerome, Sarah, and… Robert, I believe?” Lydia said to the patently obvious three leprechauns in a trenchcoat, but that everyone else acknowledged as an individual. A chair was procured for the woman, and the dealer began setting out the cards.

“Oh, at least five weeks. I used to be in here almost every night.” Bea’s disappearance hadn’t been something that others had missed. When she first came back, Chuck had even asked where she had been. And so she had to tell the tale of being in Turkey with her mother and father. A fact that most people could see through if they looked hard enough. She smiled as she sat down in the newly arrived chair,”Lovely to meet everyone. I’m Beatrice, but Bea is fine.” She eyed ‘Robert’ for a moment, before looking back to Lydia. “I can swear I have seen you here before. I’m shocked we haven’t played at the same table before.” She took a sip of her drink before looking at her cards. A bad hand out of the gate. She tried not to think that that was a sign of how the evening was going to go.

”So we need to watch you then,” Lydia replied, with a wink. “Bea, it’s a pleasure. Although I reserve my right to change my mind on that depending on how the evening goes.” Lydia took her middling hand, let the corner of her mouth quirk in the slightest bit of disappointment, and looked back up to Bea. “ I think you’re right. I’m usually only here once a week. The others aren’t as chatty, but I like to throw them off their game by - raise - talking as we play. So, Bea, what did take you out of town for five weeks? Were you travelling for work?”

A soft chuckle left Bea,“For better or worse, yes, I suppose you do.” Before she had died, she had great control of her ticks, she knew how to read other people, and she was confident in her decisions. Now, she felt new to the table, rediscovering the way she had to play. Her smile only grew as Lydia continued to speak, she liked the way this woman held herself already. It was amusing. “A woman after my own heart. Silent tables are far too boring for me.” Temptation to tell the truth surged in her, but she stifled it. Telling loved ones was one thing. Strangers were a more dangerous game. She settled on a half-truth. “I did something for my sister and then ended up having to deal with the fallout.” She eyed the flop as it came out and weighed the risks of staying in. “Call.”

Lydia watched the turn being played, and watched two of the others around the table fold. There was a pair in her hand, but the cards on the table weren’t anything of use yet. “Call,” She responded. “Oh, I agree about silent tables. The evening’s as much for socialising as it is anything else. Isn’t that right, Keith?” Lydia turned her eyes to the leprechauns, the top of which grimaced and said something unintelligible, but the chips the second leprechaun on the table pushed forward was a raise by two hundred. Hm, now this would be a game. “I know what that’s like, siblings can be our greatest gifts and our greatest downfalls. I hope it is all resolved now.”

“If I wanted to sit in silence, I stay home or go to a library,” Bea chuckled. “It’s always fun here, rarely a dull night.” She had loved that before, it had always matched her energy after a show. Now she took comfort in the familiarity. Her eyes narrowed as the stack of fae raised. There was no need for her to stay in for that. She let out a soft laugh at greatest downfalls. “Only a few loose ends to tie up and then everything will be in great shape again. Hopefully, things stay quiet for a bit.” She folded, muttering to herself,“God knows that Luce and Nell need some peace.”

“Only disappointing ones,” Lydia chuckled, as the river were revealed and the last round of bets went in. Lydia had two midrange pairs, which was far from terrible, but she wanted to keep it safe for this first round, getting a feel for the other players before the stakes grew too much. Kevin the leprechaun took the round, and Lydia took the next round of cards as they were dealt. A much worse hand. This would be an early fold. “Well, I hope so for your sa-” Lydia caught Bea’s mumble, and her eyes widened. It was her turn to bet. “...Raise. Would that be Lucinda Vural, by any chance?” It couldn’t be. It wasn’t. Lydia was entirely wrong, she had to be.

Bea took a long drink before looking at her hand. Her lips curled for a quick second as she took in the good hand she had been given. She called after Lydia, looking over at the other woman with a raised eyebrow. So she knew Luce and from the reaction, it didn’t seem that they had a good time together. “Yes, it would be. She’s my younger sister. I’m guessing that you’ve met?” Without realizing it, Bea’s shoulders tensed, uncomfortable with the potential of someone who had issue with her sister next to her.

Lydia barely heard was the other two players said, and didn’t look down at the flop being played until the lowest leprechaun that was Kevin cleared its throat. Or possibly squawked. Nell Vural had been posting on social media. Luce had been talking to Lydia. A dead sister. Well, if two had been alive then.. “Oh, I think I fold for this round. The cards are not in my favour.” Foolish, she should have never raised to begin with. There was nothing good here for her. Especially when she played against a woman who for all intents and purposes should be dead. Had been dead for an extremely long time. Weeks, from what Lydia had understood from Luce. Vampires and Zombies both rose soon after their deaths, Lydia was so sure of it. “We have. Luce saved my life, not too long ago. I think it will be, oh, three months ago in August?”

Knowing who Bea’s sister was had obviously shaken Lydia. The witch just didn’t know why. It was interesting to say the least that Luce’s name had garnered such a reaction. She had known people that were intimidated by the middle sister, but she had never experienced something like this. Lydia had seemed like a woman who could keep her poker face on in most circumstances. Bea’s fingers tapped against the base of her drink as she considered Lydia. “It’s lucky that she was there to help you. August?” She turned toward Lydia then, voice lowered,“So you know then?”

“Well, I thought so. It appears your sister isn’t as truthful as I believed. My mistake,” Lydia said, slowly regaining something of a power face as they continued. The sight of Beatrice had short circuited her brain, but if Bea was alive then… She crunched her jaw together. Not only had she been used to torture someone, but the lying snake of a spellcaster had manipulated Lydia’s emotions to make her eager. It made Lydia’s stomach turn. Obviously, Luce had read online somewhere about Lydia’s own sister, and had made up a story to justify her actions to Lydia. Maybe she thought that by lying, Lydia would treat August worse than she might otherwise. Luce had been right, too. “Bea, I believe it’s your turn to bet.”

A soft chuckle left Bea,“She’s the most truthful out of all of us.” Nell and Bea had both lied to each other for years about what magic they had done. “I don’t know how you were involved, but thank you.” Luce wouldn’t have told just anyone about what happened, she knew her sister would never bring someone random in. She looked over to the table again,“Raise.” Throwing her chips in the pot, she turned once again to look at Lydia. Taking a finger, she pulled down the fabric of her turtleneck to show a bit of her scar. “Went through all of that and only got this scar to show for it.”

Folding early should have been a prime opportunity for Lydia to take advantage of being able to read the whole table and get a feeling for where everyone else was as, without worrying about anyone watching you too closely. To run the maths in her head over and over, and see how other people calculated their odds in return. Instead, she was only looking at Beatrice, like she was struggling to latch her thoughts onto one another. She’d helped with something, certainly, August had suffered as much mentally as physically in the 24 hours he’d been with her, but Lydia hadn’t asked and Luce hadn’t said. She was so flummoxed she missed the opportunity to promise bind Bea, which in turn had Kevin staring at her. The turn, and then the river was played. “I’m amazed you survived such an injury.”

As good as the hand was turning out for Bea, she struggled to focus on it. As they spoke longer, the witch found herself more confused than before. Her sisters had failed to mention everyone who was involved, but she had, at least, expected Lydia to know more than she seemed to. Her head tilted,“Is that what she told you? That I survived?” Logically, Bea knew that it was a bad idea to tell people about what happened, but the caution she once felt was slipping away. Lydia knew enough already, this wouldn’t be groundbreaking.

“No,” Lydia replied, as the round finished. “Quite the opposite. Must have been playing on some personal weaknesses. At least I know better now.” She pressed her lips into a thin smile as she watched the end of the betting round, itching to move past this now and play a real game. Luce must have googled her, found out about Lydia’s own sister, and turned it against her. That was the only explanation Lydia needed, and now she could focus entirely on the game.

A small smile broke over Bea’s face,“You’re wrong, then, to call my sister a liar.” Perhaps the younger Vurals had failed to tell Lydia that Bea would come crawling back from death. It would explain the confusion. It would be very jarring to be sat next to a woman who was meant to be rotting. “I didn’t survive.” Her voice was low, knowing that the others at the table shouldn’t be aware of the information she was giving Lydia. “Amazing what a good sacrifice can bring back.”

Lydia swallowed. Then she swallowed again. Her fight or flight reflex kicked in, filling her mouth with toxic saliva without her consent as her heart beat loud in her ears. She looked down at her cards, blinked hard, to push them into memory, but the king and queen of spades suddenly had a deathly pallor, red slits in their throats. Necromancy. One of the worst abominations humans had created. “I see. So it appears. How… fortunate for you.”

Finally, Bea turned away from Lydia, facing back to the rest of the table. She took a sip of her drink, frowning at the now empty martini glass. She’d need to order another. She glanced at her cards, another mediocre set. “My sisters are very loyal, I’m lucky to have people who would go to such lengths to learn my craft and help me return. It wasn’t easy for them.”

“Raise,” Lydia said, before watching the flop being laid. She had a good hand, it was just about playing it, as her stomach churned under Bea’s reveal after reveal. “It certainly was a fitting sacrifice,” she replied curtly. Had Lydia made August pliant to Luce so that she could drag his soul inside out? When Lydia had made him throw himself down the stairs over and over, she’d broken his psyche and his body, but she hadn’t fragmented his soul. Her father had told her about necromancy as a child, when he had gently teased the tangles from his hair. Magics that only came to humans, that demanded balance and suffering. To bring a soul back from heaven or hell, another must be destroyed, never to go anywhere ever again. To bring such suffering on anyone, even a murderous human like August, Lydia could hardly stomach it. One good game, and she was out of here, away from the walking and talking destruction of nature itself. It was wrong in a way nothing else could be. People warned of fae trickster magic, but Lydia could not promise bind without an inkling of consent. Her glamorous only affected herself. It did not pervert nature. “Raise to one thousand dollars.”

Bea hadn’t failed to notice how all the warmth that had once been in their conversation quickly drained away. It made sense that most people wouldn’t enjoy a conversation about necromancy. Still it was a shame, she had thought Lydia was fun company when she had first sat at the table. “I’m glad that you agree. After everything he did, it felt perfect to me.” It tied the loose ends of her death nicely. All that was left was Bea finding that hunter and taking his life too. She wanted to savor that alive and well. Her eyebrows raised as Lydia raised, quietly folding her own hand, not yet willing to follow a raise so steep. Even if it did seem like an odd move. “Confident?” She asked the other woman, though her tone laced the implication of doubt through the word.

Lydia didn’t reply to that. There was something to be said for people that just loved to keep talking about taboo subjects. Clearly, her cool comments hadn’t deterred Bea, so perhaps her silence would. Lydia certainly hoped so, she was intending to keep her dinner. “That’s for you to know, isn’t it?” Lydia asked with a wink, then looking to Kevin. All three leprechauns knew she couldn’t lie easily, but all fae were masters of bluffs and truth twisting. The third one gave her a rotten look from the bottom of the trenchcoat. “So Bea, apart from playing poker, what else have you been doing with your newfound freedom?” She asked, the question carrying an edge that had been absent early. Lydia tapped her index distractedly against the table.

Confidence was easy to find when Bea was focused on necromancy, it was something she knew intimately now. She knew it, in ways, better than she knew the woman she had become when she came back. Now that the conversation had slipped from that, it wasn’t as easy to find a way to answer Lydia. She hadn’t ever struggled to find warm words and hold a conversation before. “I’ve been finding a new main act for my theater. My absence was felt dearly there and I’ve been working double time to right it all.” John, her right hand man, had done wonderfully in holding Illusions up, but without her fire, they no longer had a headliner. “There’s new talent that needs a guiding hand. Otherwise, I’ve been happy to be with my loved ones again.”

Lydia heard the pause before the reply, as the comfort and confidence leached out of Bea. She tilted her head, watching the others fold out of the game. Just her and Kevin left, for the final bidding round. “Your theatre? That is charming. Call.” There it was again, throwing her off her game. Not like she could read Kevin’s facial expressions at all, either way, but she just wanted one decent round without necromancy talk ruining it. Or the walking abomination ruining her ignoring the necromancy. “I’m sure they appreciate your company completely. Was that a challenge, Kevin? Wonderful. Let’s see your cards.” The second Leprechaun revealed two tens, with a two pair hand total. Lydia had a full house, that she showed smugly. “Oh, thank goodness for one thing going well, then.” The next set of cards were laid out. “What kind of shows do you do at your theatre, Beatrice?”

Bea was going to make sure to question her sister about this woman. The witch didn’t necessarily feel unsafe, but there was no ease left now. Lydia had been a part of the process to come back, even if she hadn’t known it. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to talk to Lydia about it, better to leave her in the dark. But then again, Bea had no room to regret what had already passed. “Good hand,” She commented lightly as she watched over the table. She hadn’t been positive that Lydia actually had such good cards. “We have fire dancers, escape artists, magicians. Those who have special talents and a knack for performance tend to find a home in my theater.”

“Ah, so like a circus,” Lydia replied with a smile, catching Bea’s meaning without a blink. “I would have to come see it some time. I do love watching the spectacular.” Feeling better with so many chips in her corner, she picked up her hand and tucked the ace of spades and three of hearts away into the back of her mind before watching the game begin anew. “So, Beatrice-” Lydia stopped, staring at Bea. Remembering what Felix had said about a lady friend. Except, of course, that it couldn’t be, right? The Bea in front of her wasn’t nearing a century in age, she wasn’t fae nor shifter, nor even a palatable form of undead. Felix wouldn’t- Felix wouldn’t have possibly gone for her. He had taste. He was as much fae as she was, as proud and clever and- Lydia swallowed. Beatrice wasn’t a common name, but it wasn’t impossible that there were a couple walking around White Crest. He wouldn’t have gone for a woman like this. Surely. “Felix. Doyle. Do you know him?”

As much as Bea wanted to tell her it was not a circus, she couldn’t. She had performers that called them a circus, even if we preferred the term theater. Usually, Bea would have offered a good seat to someone who wanted to come and view the show, but she found her quiet. She tilted her head at Lydia, what an odd and out of the blue question. “Felix Doyle happens to be my boyfriend. I take it that you know him. Are you friendly?” Felix knew so many people in this town, but still, it surprised her every time someone knew him and she didn’t know them as well.

“We’re good friends,” Lydia replied with a smile that made her feel almost as sick as actually speaking the lie. She looked back to the table, swallowing down the rising bile. This was so much worse than Deirdre. Lydia had only just found a dead lampade, made dead by a spellcaster. Somehow that bloody corpse turned her stomach less than the though of Felix with a human. Worse, with this human. Not undead like Morgan, but a monstrosity, not meant to exist at all. “I care about him deeply. More than I entirely know how to put in words.” Which made the thought of him sinking to such lows even worse. Beatrice was wrong, human hubris incarnate, how could he even consider it? He was a beautiful being, charismatic as hell, he could have had anyone he wanted, and instead he stooped to this. How could he ever denigrate himself like this and look in the mirror and call himself fae? It felt like a betrayal of her affections to the extreme, to even consider this. Lydia put her hands down on the table sharply, looking around at everyone with a practiced ease that made her skin burn. “My apologies, everyone, but I’m folding and I think I’m done for the evening. I’m not at my best, and that is not fair on any of you.” She stood up, picking up her neat stack of chips, and left without even trading them in.

More than I entirely know how to put in words. Those words would have warmed Bea if they came from anyone else. To know the man she loved was loved back by the people around him made Bea happy in most circumstances. He deserved all the love he could get. Still, this felt more than a little awkward. Had she just met one of Felix’s exes? Or someone who just didn’t want to see him with other people? She stared after Lydia for a moment, trying to understand what the hell had happened since she sat at this table. Shrugging, Bea decided to let her questions rest for now, she could ask them to the people who knew Lydia later. “Well, that’s unfortunate, she seems like she’s fun. Anyhow, I’ll raise.”

#wickedswriting #para #chatzy #beatrice

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zwoelffarben · 3 years ago

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@anomalous-heretic, homestuck is a now concluded(?) web comic that ran between the years of 2009 and 2016. It was written by Andrew Hussie (he/they (?)) and follows reproductive cycle of a cosmic frog so large its cells comprise of universes.

Characterwise, there are 8 humans (plus additional side characters), 24 trolls, 1-2 cherubim, a robot bunny, the most evil puppet in all existance, the avatar of the author himself, 15 leprechauns, several members of other sapient species, and countless alternate versions of the characters listed above, both as in alternate timelines and as in ghosts.

No, I’m not diving into the plot, let’s just say, a lot of shit happens, and if you want to know what that entails, set yourself aside a weekend or two and read the damn thing. Yes, this is an unofficial ‘rom-hack’. Yes, it is the best way to read homestuck after the death of flash. Yes, you will never be able to truly experience homestuck the way original fans did because its now concluded, and a lot of the hype was built on actively particapiting in the fandom during the publication process, but you can read it if you desire.

But, relevant point to this post is that trolls are an alien species, and being an alien species they do not experience attraction the same way humans do. Human (reproductive) attraction for all its nuance and depth, and its capacity to create an endless amount of stories about love, can for the sake of analogy be boiled down to one type of attraction. Trolls experience four types of attraction, each associated with one particular suite in a deck of cards.

Matespriteship (Red Hearts)

The easiest for humans to understand, matespriteship is pretty well identical to the human experience of attraction: it is the attraction to the positive traits of a subject, and the desire to have babies with them (which is reductive of human attraction, but we’re focusing on trolls right now; I can only attend to the nuance of one species at a time). I will not be going into the specific mechanics of how trolls make babies for everyone’s sanity.

Kismesitude (Black Spades)

The hardest for humans with healthy happy relationships to really understand and grok is Kismesitude, as it runs counter to everything humans understand about love. Kismesitude attraction to negative traits, love built on contempt and hatred. Think Lizzy Bennet and Fitz Darcy from Pride and Prejudice, as the best readily available human example of something resembling kismesitude.

Unfortunately for trolls, kismesitude is one, necessary for the survival of their species because [redacted mechanics of troll reproduction] but two, really difficult to navigate because attraction to the bad parts of someone’s personality is the fast track to a neglectful and/or abusive relationship. That’s where the other two quadrants come into play.

Moirallegiance (Pink Diamonds)

Moirallegiance is a semi-platonic relationship between two trolls in which each provides the other with support in order to mellow out the harsher aspects of their personality. This is necessary because trolls as a general rule tend to be little shits, and having a healthy moirallegiance is a good way for them take the edge off and act like functioning members of troll society.

The closest human equivalence is something along the line of Platonic Soulmate. Some queers might recoginze the description of a moirallegiance relationship as being queer-platonic, and yeah, that works as an analogy, but moirallegiance is attraction based on the qualities that would make a good partner in that capacity, where as queer-platonic relationships aren’t typically built on attractive feelings.

Auspisticism (Grey Clubs)

And lastly, auspisticism is a relationship had between three trolls, in which one troll acts as a stablizer in what would otherwise be either an especially volitile couple, a couple that’s not attracted to each other deeply enough, or in the case of kismesitude specifically, a couple that would be an (potentially mutually) abusive hellscape. The job of the auspice is to make sure kismesitudes are healthy, and make sure that only the most deeply felt matespriteships and kismesitudes are consumated for the good of the species.

― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ―

So, this post, has drawn the dynamic between each of the four quadrants of attraction experienced by hussian trolls, in the orientation typically associated with them, in the colors typically associated with them. It was from the beginning and will continue to be in perpetuity a homestuck post.

And that’s homestuck as it relates to this post. I’m sorry and you’re welcome.

Ship dynamics :-)

#I will not admit to having saught a kismesis when I was younger #No that is not a thing I will admit

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jflashandclash · 6 years ago

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Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Fourteen: Ajax

I Set Up a Play Date in Exchange for a Canadian

As soon as Thanatos vanished with Reyna and Calex in his comforting, Slenderman, trust-me-this-isn’t-the-first-time-I’ve-abducted-children-way, Pax searched around their makeshift racetrack and the Roman’s body-collection tent. Pax had to wonder if Slenderman could shadow travel—what he assumed Thanatos had done. You know that situations are desperate when taking a creepy stranger’s hand and getting into his metaphoric car is the best options.

It was a good thing Pax’s apples worked. Having the damnation of Calex’s soul and his not-death on Pax’s consciousness would have probably been added to Pax’s Daily List of Traumatizing Experiences. He wondered if the death counter on the Silver-Tongued Helm would have gone up if the plan had failed, or if Eris and Phobetor would have popped up with a fireworks display to celebrate the failure.

“An errand, Ajax?” Alabaster asked as soon as Thanatos, Reyna, and Calex melted away. “What are you planning?”

“Planning? I never plan. I just get ideas.” Pax stepped in a sweeping circle, glancing around. His brain chattered in broken sentences, the way he imagined Ares would if Axel ever got his hands on him again. Had to be here. Too good a show not to watch. “Ideas that involve me being in a place of potential ruin, where I’m about to make a likely dumb decision that could result in a lot of mischief.”

“This sounds like a shitty idea,” Alabaster grumbled.

A hand touched his shoulder.

Pax yipped before he realized it was Kally. She gave him a worried smile. “Ajax, what is going on?” she asked, holding one hand out like Pax was the wild, cute baby panda he was.

Why did he always tell his lovers his weakness? That he had a hard time speaking indirectly when they called him by his first name and looked at him like he wasn’t just comic relief? That and bullets, but he figured his weakness to celestial bullets was pretty general knowledge.

“With Jason, Thalia, Leo, Axel, and now Reyna off doing hero things, we’re missing five heavy hitters—Calex doesn’t count. What happens if they don’t make it back in time for the party?” As Pax spoke, he ruffled his hair. He hoped the sweat and grossness of a hero’s shower schedule and constant pain would act as Hair Gel de Natural. “We need as many fighters as we can get, since Percy is—ha ha—benched and Annabeth is spreading the kissing disease to the table with how much she’s napping. Plus… I want leverage if the Romans decide to take vengeance on the Triple A Chimera. It’s always good to have a little blackmail.”

Important father-to-son life lessons.

“Leverage?” Alabaster asked, his glare softening.

Kally took a careful step towards Pax. Amazing to think that the one time she wanted to hold his hand again, he would have to shriek and run from her if she did. “A lot is going on. I—Axel wouldn’t want me to let you do something…”

“Stupid?” Alabaster supplied.

“Rash.”

As if that was the magical summoning word, Pax saw Atë.

He puffed up his cheeks and popped them.

A chill went down his spine as the smoke twisted up off her clothing. She lay, stomach down, on the ground, kicking her legs behind her. A black tarp—an empty body bag?—acted as her picnic blanket. Points for unnerving creativity. Pax just hoped there wasn’t an annoyed ghost in the tent, wondering where its deadtime blankets went.

Her white T-shirt’s sleeves hung off her shoulders. That and the cloth’s looseness let her shirt collar hang away from her skin and rest on the ground. Several chain necklaces encircled her neck and dangled against the ground atop the material, except one cord that clung tightly to her skin, running taunt down her chest, like a divider for her black and red, very noticeable, bra. That chain must have been attached to her belt. Her shorts were black and white checkered. Fishnets ran down to her muddy, bare feet.

As per Atë mode, her skin was smudged with dirt. Her jagged, black hair had streaks of red, magenta, and white. In one hand, she held Frank’s stick, pressing it against her lower, crimson lip, so the lip jutted to one side.

Pax swallowed. Amazing how he could forget that his super hot sister wanted to seduce him.

Like the best cockblocking knights from a heroic tale (or, from what Pax had heard, like teachers at a school dance), Alabaster and Kally stepped between where Pax was standing and Atë lay.

“Ajax…” Atë cooed, leaning to see around where Kally had withdrawn her Argonaut statue.

“Don’t call him that,” Alabaster snarled as he withdrew the deck of cards from his back pocket.

“You’re fraying around every edge,” Atë said.

“You’re not wanted here, Atë,” Kally snapped.

“I don’t want you to unravel,” Atë continued, those lifeless, red eyes giving their most expressive I told you not to come back to camp look that lifeless eyes could manage. Under Lapis’ command, she had warned Pax, not to come back, but there was no way for Pax to know it was to prevent some good ol’ fratricide.

Pax swallowed again. He forgot a pivotal point in his plan: his ability to talk with words and sentences. That, and his ability to speak to her without his cockblocking knights preventing him from a potentially terrible decision.

Hoping Atë could do some cool god thing to fix this, Pax summoned the best devilish smirk that he could, sidestepped more into Atë‘s view, winked, and nodded towards the death tent. Perfect romantic location.

Pax cleared his throat. “I found Calex’s potentially suicidal ultimatum with his godly stalker inspirational.”

Pax liked to think Kally and Alabaster both made sounds of disapproval: Alabaster’s hopefully sounding like a stuffy, old British gentleman. That’s how Pax would write Alabaster if he could write fanfiction.

The sounds came out muffled.

During one breath, smoke twisted in front of him, icy fingers touched his hand, then he was sitting down in a dimmer place. The sun warmed the tent walls like God decided to catch some humans with a Styrofoam cup the way a child might catch an ant or a tiny leprechaun. Pax stayed firm: if centaurs existed, then so did tiny men with golden pots that shot marshmallows. Kouta could never lie to him otherwise: that the marshmallow thing was an ad campaign for a cereal company. That was just what the leprechauns wanted you to think.

The tent flap was shut, cutting off the view of the outside. The sunlight that glowed through the fabric felt smothered. A few real rays shined through the poles of the tent.

Pax couldn’t decide what was worse: that Atë chose an occupied bodybag as a picnic bench or that she’d smoked into existence, sitting close enough for their knees to be touching.

If Atë could just teleport, Pax wondered why she bothered with any of this fighting stuff since she could relocate all of her enemies into far away cruise ships or convenient wood chippers. Pax shouldn’t ask that though, since that might give her idea—

“Why don’t you magic all your enemies into romantic hovels?” he asked.

Atë kicked her feet against the dirt. She stared at the two corpses in front of them. Leave it to a child of Eris to pick the center of the room, so they could be surrounded, from both sides and below, by corpses. Now Pax was waiting for Thanatos to deposit one from the ceiling for good symmetry.

Outside, he could hear the muffled voices of Alabaster and Kally as they panicked.

“I can’t. It’s easier with you, because you wanted to come in here and you’re more god than mortal,” Atë explained.

“Yep, that totally checks out in my book of not-lazy godly physics.”

Atë leaned back, so she could put one hand behind Pax. With the other, she tapped Frank’s stick against her off-sleeve shirt. “You’re asking me to trade Frank’s stick… for a date with you,” she said, those glassy eyes boring into him.

“I’m touched by how easily you read me,” Pax said. He tried to think of how he would treat this if Atë were Kally or Alabaster, but the scenery was a little distracting. “A playdate. Yes.”

“What kind of date?” she asked. Pax couldn’t tell if she was playing coy. He supposed it fit the “mischief” part of her moniker.

Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. He had decided this was it: his moment for inspirational character development, where he took control of his life, where he stopped being protected and became a protector. He didn’t have Axel’s strength or courage, but he was skilled. He’d earned the name Silver-Tongued Snake for a reason, and it wasn’t just because of that paint-eating incident in Alabaster’s laboratory.[1]

He just wished it happened somewhere sunnier with… cuter surroundings.

Only one thing had to happen before he acted on his epiphany.

“Off the corpse,” Pax said. He slipped one arm under Atë’s and slipped the other under her knees. Repressing a shudder at the chill of her legs and back, Pax carried her a few feet away from the bodies, sat down on the ground, and kept his arms around her. He whined at the pain in his right hand.

Atë blushed and stared at him with those unblinking eyes. Either that or she’d smudged some blood on her cheeks. Probably the latter, from puppy corgis? As Pax watched, her typically blank face cracked into a small smile. He remembered how much fun he had with her when they searched Rome’s files to discover the identity of Mount Othrys’ spy. She said that he was always nice to her. In her thousands of years, had Atë never been romantically carried by someone before?

“Your dad and our mom used to flirt a lot while seated on corpses,” she giggled.

“Atë, you know that little voice inside your head that tells you stories like that don’t need to be said out loud?” Pax said.

“I don’t have one and you don’t either,” she said, then repeated, “What kind of date?”

Ideas for how he’d treat Kally or Alabaster raced through his mind. “We can start by playing some video games. We’d go get ice cream, of course.”

Atë cocked her head to the side. Chains rattled against her neck.

Right. Child of Strife. Goddess of Mischief and Ruin. He didn’t need to pretend.

“We can dress up as monsters and scare kids walking home from school,” he said.

Atë rocked in his arms with a laugh. “We can recruit the weasels to help us wreak havoc.”

Pax sat up in excitement. “We could ride Hunnie into battle and Baller could—wait—no—I mean, yes to weasel recruitment. But, let’s leave specific weasel anarchy idealization until later.”

“What happens after destroying children on their way home from school?” she asked.

Pax chose to ignore her choice of verb. “Afterwards, we could find some local church picnics and pass out pamphlets on the good word of Discordia.”

“In wizarding robes,” she said.

“Pointed hats and brooms included. And lastly…” Pax wasn’t great at doing that whole think before you speak thing, but this next part needed to be worded carefully. “I’ll take you back to my place and we can watch Deadpool, use the hot tub… get to know each other a little better.”

Atë stopped laughing. Her expression went blank again. “The Paxmobile doesn’t have a hot tub and Axel would never leave us alone.”

The sound of Alabaster and Kally’s voices were getting closer.

“Holy Kronos—we should install a hot tub in the—right, sorry!” Pax struggled to keep focus. The idea of a mobile hot tub complete with trick telekhines was distracting. Percy could do water tap-dancing for Alabaster’s entertainment. “I meant my place my place. Not the Paxmobile.”

Atë didn’t respond. He had hoped she’d dramatically repeat his line in confusion, but Pax guessed he’d have to continue explaining without theatrical prompting.

“The temple/club/house/building that the Pax boys are about to inherit from our Dad’s will. You know… once we get Axel’s name cleared up with the police for that whole ‘kidnapping me’ thing. You and I would have to follow house rules for the date, since that’s what we’d be using, like don’t run by the hot tubs.”

Pax remembered how hard Lapis worked to be able to go out with… would it have been Sapphire? It happened right before he and Axel ran away the second time. Pax felt nauseous about moving back there, to his room with a blank, bare corner, designed so Dad wouldn’t get blood everywhere when he beat and whipped Pax for acting out.

At least his father had been considerate to the cleaning staff.

“But yea, it has a fancy hot tub, lots of private rooms, and a labyrinth of back passages that would leave Axel’s head spinning for hours. We could make it into a game. How many places we can…” Pax tightened his grip on Atë’s legs and dug his nails into her back as best he could with the ruined tendons. He leaned his forehead against hers. The musk of dried blood was—surprise—not a cure for his nausea. “Do stuff without Axel being able to catch us.”

One of Atë’s hands clutched his neck, where she’d bit him. Despite the rapid healing from his extra godly blood, and Kally’s attempts with her Apollo magic, the discoloration remained. Perks or curses of fooling around with a goddess: eternal hickies. Pax wondered what Ares’ neck looked like after a good Aphrodite fondle and vice versa.

It was like a mark of ownership, like how the tattoo on Pax’s hip made him feel like—even in death—his Dad still owned the part of Pax that could have been happy.

Pax felt his eyes watering. Focus, he snarled at himself. He had to make sure Atë felt the sunshine and rainbows, or, in her case, bunnies with chainsaws. He tried to think of how giddy he would be to hold Kally like this—albeit gentler—or be held by Alabaster.[2] The hand on his neck and the cold, red eyes made it hard to imagine Kally’s caring, shy smile and touch or the glint of knowing humor behind Alabaster’s expression and caress. Either one perfecting the balanced look of adoration with simultaneous annoyance in their green eyes.

With Atë’s other hand, she pressed Frank’s stick into his chest. Pax felt compelled to remind her that he wasn’t a vampire and there were, in fact, easier ways to kill him. Maybe his vulnerability to celestial bullets was less well known than he thought.

“Do you swear on the River Styx to all the terms listed above?” Pax asked.

Thinking about the others brought on an icy flash of Flynn. How he held her like this when she was sobbing over Jack’s chopped up corpse, about how she wished she could have seen Jack one more time to say goodbye.

Pax swallowed the memory. His mouth moved without his mind, saying what he knew he should be saying, since his brain was preoccupied with the whole trauma thing. “I’ll even give you a private tour of my room. Only Kally’s gotten that.”

He winked, giving Atë a devilish smile. Tiny Baby-Panda Pax marveled at how his body didn’t feel like his own, the smooth confidence of his exterior belonging to some other, darker, older Ajax.

Atë rubbed her fingers along his neck. “We could always make a tent in there and turn it into an exclusive slumber party.”

“Shake on it, and we’ll make it binding. All that and all you need to do is give me Frank’s stick as a forward payment,” he said, releasing her legs to offer his hand.

Atë pouted, an expression uncomfortably similar to something he’d practiced in the mirror to adorable perfection. “Kiss on it,” she said, biting her lower lip.

Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them.

He felt cold and numb, watching a movie reel that some other person had already acted. Internally, he wondered exactly what consent Atë thought kissing gave, since she seemed to think a hug consented to making out. Externally, Pax tilted his chin down, pressing his mouth against hers.

Atë went still. For a horrifying moment, he feared she’d poofed away and put one of the corpses in her place as a practical joke. Ha-ha! Made you kiss a dead person! Then she sat up with a soft noise, so she could lean more into him. Atë dropped Frank’s stick.

This was opposite how he expected her to react after how aggressive she’d been the night she tricked him into a romantic prelude to decapitation the night before. Her words fluttered through his head, You’re always nice to me and you’re fun. Most people are really mean when I’m around.

No one had been nice to her. No one had made her feel special. Maybe, she only knew to mimic the way their mom flirted with his dad, like making out near corpses and sending cards that pre-apologized for future abuse.

Sympathizing with a tiny psychopath like Atë was dangerous. But, for a few dizzying seconds, Pax softened his touch to make the kisser proper to what he thought a kiss should be, instead of what he assumed Atë wanted.

When the panic mounted to the point where he wanted to ask Atë if she’d eaten nuts before their kiss, he firmly removed Atë’s mouth from his own.

“Atë,” he said and slipped Frank’s stick into his pocket, “Big Sis. You know how children of Strife always hurt those we love the most, especially the more we’re around them? And you know the definition of ‘cruel irony?’”

Atë’s small smile flattened. “What?”

Pax stood up and gently set his half-sister down. Relief made him add a dance to his step as he backed towards the exit. “I should have warned you, my dad had a lot of rules. Like, no messing around in the house. No one was allowed to touch a Pax kid without Santiago’s direct permission, and he’s dead now, so that’s a little difficult, huh? You’d have to ask the next head of the house, Kouta—oh no.” Pax tilted his head pensively to the side, crossed his arms, and tapped his chin. “He won’t do—oh! I guess that would be Axel. According to the terms of our agreement, we’d have to get direct permission from Axel to do anything physical or too romantic. Shucks.”

Pax snapped his fingers, like he was disappointed.

Atë opened and closed her mouth. “You tricked me.”

“Yes and no.” Pax shrugged. “I’m still really excited to have a play date with my half-sister where I get to wreak havoc and get to know her better and spend time with her as a friend.”

He gave her a gentle smile. Pax knew what it was like to feel like the whole world was a cruel place. If Axel and his other siblings hadn’t been there to show him protection and kindness, Pax would have probably turned out a lot less fluffy. “Just because I’m the first person to be nice to you, doesn’t mean I’ll be the last. And you don’t need to express appreciation of that through possession or forceful cuddles. We’re siblings. And yea, we’re children of Strife so, we’re pretty fucked up, but I think we can work together to have a healthy, fun friendship.”[3]

Atë didn’t seem to know how to react.

Pax nodded at the sentient. “But seriously, you touch me sexually once and the date is over.”

Pax pivoted to push open the tent flap, only to slam into Alabaster. Alabaster’s Stygian staff was drawn, and he was prepping spells under his breath. He grabbed Pax’s arm, like he feared Pax would dematerialize again.

“Pax!” Kally shouted in relief behind him. She fingered her Argonaut statue. “We thought Atë kidnapped you.”

“Aw, it would have been much more dramatic and movie-like had you showed up when Atë and I were making out,” Pax said. All that water that he’d stored in his eyes glistened to the surface. Seeing these two made him want to collapse in a puddle on the ground, Phobetor conscilepsy style. But, Pax reminded himself, he was Strong Pax. In-Control Pax. Pax that Waits Ten Minutes to Start Crying Pax.

Pax snuffled back a few tears.

When Atë stepped out of the tent after him, he almost screamed. Instead, he held Frank’s stick aloft. “We need to go shove this in the face of the others, so we can tell them that we have blackmail on Frank.”

“You mean that the concussed Canadian can fight in the battle tonight?” Kally asked warily. She pulled both boys further from the death collection tent, towards Percy’s fancy light up sign and throne.

“That’s what I said,” Pax said, like Atë had just vanished as she should have in his internal plans.

“Mom was going to use that stick to light the Big House on fire. Something about using the fires of life to start the wave of death?” Atë said, stepping with them towards the ping-pong table.

After Pax had his whole family-time-happy-speech, he didn’t feel right telling Atë to get lost, but she was kind of on the wrong side of their fight. “Very poetic,” he admitted.

“We thought so too. Frank would have probably been the first casualty.”

“Pax,” Kally whispered, taking the hand not holding Frank’s stick. Her touch made Pax feel all gooey inside, encouraging those tears that he kept trying to repress to come to the surface. “What did you do?”

“And why is she still here?” Alabaster growled.

As they got closer to the ping-pong table, Pax could see it was mostly empty. The other campers must have been tending to defenses. Annabeth napped on a pillow beside Percy. He held her hand on the table, glaring at the sand timer. Piper sat a few feet away from him.

“Uh—guys?” Pax could just hear Percy say with some panic in his voice. He held up the sand timer.

“Atë, you can go back to Mom,” Pax said, knowing it would be much simpler if he only had to manage two-sort-of-not-ex-lovers.

Atë put her hands in her black and white checkered pockets, tilting her head back to look at the sky. “Mom never left. Why do you think everyone has been so unproductive and argumentative?”

Alabaster rolled his eyes. He focused on whatever was happening at the ping-pong table. “I thought Eris was best for inspiring people to productivity,” he said sarcastically.

The sarcasm seemed to miss Atë. She removed her fingers and flexed them. A tire iron appeared in one hand and a baseball bat with nails appeared in the other. “Jealousy, spite and strife are excellent motivators. But the productivity doesn’t matter anymore. You’re out of time.”

Pax blinked. His stomach twisted as he felt some sort of shockwave ripple through the air. “Uh, no,” Pax said, “Mom told Percy she’d be back when the sun comes down.”

“And it’s noon now,” Kally said.

Children of Apollo: better than any clock.

A buzzer sounded.

Party poppers popped.

The neon sign above Percy’s head flashed wildly like the ball drop on New Year’s Eve. A digital timer went to zero in the colorful mix.

Hiro’s mirror still floated beside Percy. From what Pax could see, Hiro ran to the edge of the mirror, pressed his face against it, and looked up in excitement.

Clouds darkened the sunlight.

Kally screamed and, in the distance, Pax could hear a chorus of children of Apollo joining in the cacophony.

When Pax glanced up to stare directly at the sun—something Axel had tried to stop him from doing dozens of times—he didn’t find himself blinded. Apollo’s sun chariot was too close, easily observed by the fact that everyone could see his Sun Chariot. The image blurred between a Lamborghini Diablo and a cart drawn by four horses. From what Pax gathered from science books and mythology, Apollo was supposed to have a fairly set path.

He had altered it.

Pax choked.

A wave of darkness descended from the east. The rapid approach gave Pax vertigo as it engulfed the landscape like an apocalyptic cloud.

Despite Apollo’s attempts to either step on the accelerator or spur his horses on, the blackness was gaining.

When Pax squinted, he could see what it was: a woman. A terrifying woman with her own chariot and horses. She was so void of color and substance, Pax would have thought her a churning swirl of ash and smoke. Her chariot seemed to suck the light from around it. Her indigo wings and whirls of black locks trailed madly behind her, twisting into coils of blackness that cast the net of her cloak. That blackness asphyxiating the landscape was her cloak.

Terror shook Pax. A deep sense of wrongness made him want to hide in the Paxmobile and refuse to come out.

Nothing would have changed though. None of their heroes would return in time: Jason, Leo, and Sadie wouldn’t have had time to fight Lapis yet, Calex and Reyna would have just met up with Axel and Thalia in Tartarus, and Merry had likely just gotten to Hiro and Percy’s little sister. That meant Percy also wouldn’t be able to fight. Annabeth could barely lift her head off the table.

It was just them, a concussed Canadian, a recently plague-ridden daughter of Aphrodite, and a daughter of Pluto that was probably frantically trying to keep her unconscious brother out of the shadow realm.

The primordial goddess of night’s chariot intercepted Apollo’s.

The sun fell out of the sky.

They were enveloped in darkness.

As Pax’s eyes adjusted to the sudden blackness in the middle of the day, he panted with panic. He almost laugh-cried when Alabaster set a hand on his shoulder, until he realized it wasn’t Alabaster.

“Oh, my little Terror Muffin,” Eris whispered sweetly into his ear. “It’s beautiful isn’t it? How much a mother will do for one of her favorites when that favorite is threatened with annihilation by execration or Kronos’ staff?”

That joker-like hysterical laughter filled the air.

“Now that Nyx has taken care of the sun…” A light flickered beside Pax. He could see his mother toss a lit Molotov Cocktail up and down, “Let the festivities begin!”

Sorry for the delay, guys! I hope you enjoyed the Pax family madness :D They could probably benefit from some family counseling. May your Fall festivities be as mischievous as Pax’s, but, you know, without the trauma.

Tune in next week to Axel: If you’re tired of being electrocuted, clap your hands! (or: On the Shore of Two Underworlds).

Footnotes:

[1] Alabaster said we had to put a warning label out here: do not eat paint. You are not Pax (unless you are Pax) and you will not survive an acrylic slurpee (and even if you are Pax, stop trying to eat paint. Alabaster is tired of cleaning your throw up).

[2] Though not frequently the other way around. Pax has done everything in his power to pretend he’s physically weaker than Alabaster, including frequently fainting into his arms when they were younger. One problem with this: Alabaster opted out of catching him.

[3]Public service announcement where Pax and I differ: if you have a family member that is acting sexually aggressive to you, tell someone and take action to prevent anything further from happening to you or to others. If the person you tell doesn’t believe you, keep telling people until you find someone who will listen. Whether or not you know the aggressor, even if they’re a family member, you owe them nothing. You definitely don’t owe them silence. But, you DO owe yourself and you DO deserve a safe, healthy environment. And, you owe open communication to others in to the aggressor’s path to assure that the aggressor won’t hurt anyone else.

And, regardless of what anyone else might tell you, including other family members, you don’t need to keep talking to the aggressor, as Pax decides to do. Blood-related doesn’t mean indebted. It doesn’t mean an annulment of wrongs. It means you’re supposed to keep each other safe and healthy, and taking advantage of someone’s trust isn’t safe or healthy.

Now, if you’ll excuse me for this bout of seriousness, I have a baby panda to catch to tell him to talk more openly with his friends. *chases after Pax*

#Heroes of Olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJO #HOO #Fanfiction #Traitors of Olympus #Pax #Ate #Kally #Alabaster #Eris #SHIT GET REAL!!!!!#*cries* I have no time to write this week T.T

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