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all-de-fandoms · 11 hours

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Oh, heck, I completely forgot I had an AO3 account until someone gave my story a kudos.

I forgot about this one. :) It was a lot of fun to write.

I never thought I'd write a fan fic about marbles, and yet here we are.

((jelle's marble runs fan fiction))

Link to AO3 - "DOOMED"

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DOOMED

“StarryStarryStarryStarryStarryStarry!” Rapidly charged down the hallway of the marble league training facility.

Starry had to dodge to the side to keep from getting rammed into by the Savage Speeders' youngest and most hyperactive member. Thank goodness she had quick reflexes, “What, Rapidly, what?”

The young racer skid to a halt and bounced like she’d downed five energy drinks and a handful of sugar sticks - which was slightly higher than her resting status. “Guesswhatwegettodo?! Youwon’tbelievewhatwegettodo!”

“Rapidly–”

“Theyjustsaiditeinthecommonroom! Iwasn’tsupposedtooverhearit,butIdidand–”

Starry blinked, barely catching anything resembling words, “--I don’t know what you’re saying–”

“Trytoguess! GoOn. GuessGuessGuessGuessGuessGuessGuess!”

“Whoa, kid, slow down. Pretend you’re Bolt for a minute.”

Bolt passed by at that exact moment and paused, “Ouch.”

She cringed, “Didn't know you were there.”

“Whatever you say, Fifth.” He kept going. The sandwich in the Thunderbolt’s common room calling his name was more important than a racer with a head full of space dust.

“Not so fast, Sparky,” she grabbed his arm hard and yanked him over, “You speak ‘Rapidly.’ Can you translate for me?”

He stared at her. “Please? Who raised you.”

She sighed, “ Please translate for me?”

“Ok,” he kept his voice calm, “But you take that back. You know I had to race with pontil pox that season. The whole team caught it from Bumble.”

“I remember. It went around like the plague. That was awful.” It hit her in the last season. It started from the Bumblebees, and spread through the rest of the teams like they were pollinating flowers. She'd never seen so many green faces in the marblebase at once. The only team not hit were the Hazers. They isolated themselves from everyone and only showed their faces during a race - which fit their vibe, if she had to be honest. Cloudy was the one who kept sending soup to the rest of the teams. “Ok. I was out of line. I take it back.”

He pointed at her, “And I get your dessert.”

“What? No way,” she contested, “Chocolate swirl is my favorite.”

“I know,” he folded his arms, enjoying the fact that he had the upper hand, “These are the conditions. Ice cream or you get to play guess work with Itty Bitty here.”

The littlest Speeder hadn’t stopped bouncing on the balls of her feet.

He didn’t give her much choice. She shoved her dessert ticket against his chest, “Fine.”

Bolt, happy with the win and extra dessert, tapped the short teenager on the head, “Ok, Rapidly. Go.”

Rapidly looked up at the tall racer with bright eyes and repeated everything with some added hops of joy.

“Uh huh,” Bolt nodded, “Uh huh… Ok. Who’s ‘we?’”

The kid rattled off the teams too fast for Starry to decipher. This added to her theory that the Savage Speeders had their own language.

“I see.”

“What?” Starry’s eyes shimmered with curiosity, “See what? What did she say?”

Bolt, the bearer of information, felt like a wise marble atop the mysterious Misty Mountain. He knew Starry couldn’t resist curiosity, and enjoyed this moment of teasing her.

“Bolt,” she smacked him.

"Ow. Ok, ok." And he forgot she often hit back, “She said she heard that we all get to run an amazing race. It was supposed to be a surprise, but they didn’t know she’d been playing hide and seek in the common room with Billy, Pulsar, Aryp, and Mimo. She said it’s my team, yours, the Speeders, the Hazers, Team Momo, Mellow Yellow, the Orangers, the Raspberry Racers, Balls of Chaos, and the Midnight Wisps.”

“Ten teams. Either it’s going to be a series of short races with eliminations, or a long track. What race is so amazing that Rapidly’s acting like she OD’d on sugar?”

Rapidly took a deep breath, forcing herself to slow her speech, which was painful, “We…get…to…run…the–”

“--I said Bolt, not Clutter,” Starry said, deadpan.

Bolt folded his arms in agreement with her. He had beef with Clutter, “I’ll allow it.”

Rapidly tried again at a normal-ish pace, “We get to run the next Halloween Race! Isn’t it great?!”

Her eyes shot open.

Marblearth stopped spinning.

Time froze.

Starry suddenly felt like she teetered on the event horizon of a singularity, about to be spaghettified, “The Halloween Race?!”

Even Bolt seemed to pale a little at the thought.

“Yeah, isn’t it awesome! It’s gonna be so cool! There’ll be spidersandghostsandwitchesandpumpkinpieandciderandthatreallycoolhauntedhouseand–”

She gripped her shoulders, “They fed Jack ‘O Lantern, Casper, Bloodmoon, and Frankenstein to the spiders last year! We can’t run that race!”

“Whynot?”

“Because it's a death race! You lose, you end up spider food, or worse! Besides, that tower is structurally unsafe, and I’m pretty sure it’s haunted.”

Rapidly’s lips curled up a mischievous grin, “What’sthematter,Fifth? Afraidofthedark?”

Bolt translated for her, matching the kid’s expression.

Starry took personal offense to that, “I am not afraid of the dark…anymore.”

Bolt failed to conceal a snort behind his hand.

“And don’t call me that.”

“Justadmitit,spacegirl,” Rapidly slowed down, poking her lightly and quickly in the chest, “You’re scared.”

Her lips pursed in a tight line. This little speed gremlin had slowed down deliberately to enunciate that. Her grip of terror turned into a grip of ‘do not test me.’ “Listen here, you little dust mite, there isn’t a track in existence that scares me. Ok? I can roll anything you throw at me.”

“Except this one,” Bolt said matter-of-factly.

"Except this one," she repeated without thinking. She glared at him, to which he just smiled. “I am not afraid of the track. Who’s bright idea was this anyway? Who do I need to shove into a locker? The Wisps?”

Rapidly answered.

Starry looked up at Bolt for a translation.

“The Ghost Crew.”

Exasperation crossed her face, “Of course it is.”

Rapidly bounced out of her grip and down the hall, “Thisisgoingtobesoawesome! Ican’tbelievewe’retheoneswhogettodoit! I’msoexited! I’mgonnatellMimo.”

Bolt translated.

“Don’t do that,” Starry whined after her, “Mimo’s afraid of their own shadow.”

Bolt noticed her expression and frazzled hair, “You are scared.”

“I am not scared, you idiot.”

“You look like a kid facing their first severe thunderstorm. I’ve seen that look a million times. You’re wearing it like a pro.”

The expression on her face proved him right. Bolt had this uncanny way of seeing through her masks. She hesitated, “Ok, yes. I’m scared. I’m still afraid of the dark, ok? You happy now?”

“You’re from space. Space is dark. How can you be afraid of it?”

“You’re from the land of electricity, and you're afraid of Tesla coils.”

“...Touche,” he pointed at her, "And I have a good reason for that."

Her emotions overtook her, “Plus I’m afraid of spiders. I hate them with a severe passion. There’s way too many legs, and they’re all skittery, and too many eyes, and they’re huge, and they eat marbles, and they lurk in the dark,” she shuddered, “And there’s ghosts in that tower!”

His eyes widened, “Actual ghosts?”

“Actual ghosts! Astron was up there once, and he told me that he saw them. Ghosts, Bolt! He saw real ghosts! He said one of them looked like Jack ‘O Lantern! And Greg turns evil! He has a dark side," she whispered, terrified, "The ghosts of marbles who fail that track are doomed to haunt it forever,” she gripped his shirt, “I don’t want to be doomed to haunt that track forever with my death commentated by an evil Greg! I’m too young and talented and beautiful to be spider food!”

“The brave Starry admitting to her faults. I gotta remember this day."

She punched him in the shoulder, “I am not going.”

He rubbed at the sore spot, “I don’t want to go, either. I agree with you; that place gives me the creeps, but I don’t think we have much of a choice,”

“Oh, yes we do,” she tightened her jaw and stormed off.

“Oh boy.” He ran after her.

---Several minutes later…

“ YOU DID WHAT ?! ”

Multiple marbles around the training facility froze as though they’d been caught breaking the rules by Starry’s loud, anger-filled voice echoing through the facility.

Bolt winced. He felt that vibe punch him in the gut. He was glad he wasn’t Cosmo right now.

“YOU LOST A BET TO SPEEDY?! ”

Cosmo held up his hands, “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“You fought him in a dumpling eating contest! What is wrong with you?!”

“I had him on the ropes for half of it.”

“He can pack away the marble weight of every racer in this room! His name is Speedy! What did you think was going to happen?”

He held up his finger, “I personally think this is a win. We get to run a new track and overcome new obstacles. This is a challenge. I thought you loved challenges.”

“Do not roll this around on me.”

She looked at Quasar chilling on the couch eating cookies watching the drama unfold like a t.v show, “Did you know about this?”

“I had nothing to do with it,” they said in their usual stoic tone, “All I said was that someone needed to take Speedy down a peg, that’s all,” they shrugged.

She poked Cosmo in the chest, “You go to the Savage Speeders right now and correct this.”

He spread his arms, “Sorry, Starry. There’s nothing I can do.”

“I am not going through that rickety haunted house!”

“Remember your breathing exercises for your emotional dysregulation.”

“I am not emotionally dysregulated!”

Quasar leaned over to speak to Bolt, who’d stepped back to the couch away from the line of fire, “She’s emotionally dysregulated.”

“Mmhmm,” Bolt agreed.

“That’s why she’s not captain,” they ate a cookie.

“Ah.” It made sense to Bolt. Starry was passionate, and a talented racer, but could fly off the handle. Case in point.

“I can’t back out,” Cosmo held his ground, “How would it look if Team Galactic rolled out of an honor bet? We’d be the new laughing stock of the league. You're the best racer we have, Starry.”

"Rude," Bolt frowned at the team captain's audacity to say that in front of another teammate.

"No, no," Quasar gestured with a half eaten cookie, "he has a point."

“How long do we have?” she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“A week.”

“A WEEK?! We can’t train for that in a week, you meteor brain!”

“Cool your jets, Star. Look at the bright side.”

“What bright side? There is no bright side to this!”

He grinned at her, continuing to back up toward their common room door, “Consider this a chance to finally overcome your fear of the dark.”

“That’s not a bright side, Cosmo! Don’t roll away from me. Cosmo! COSMO!”

The sound of the door sliding closed sealed her fate.

Her skin became as pale as her uniform. “That’s it. We’re cracked,” she flopped down onto the arm of the couch, “We are so cracked. We’re doomed,” she grabbed Bolt’s arm and started sobbing into his sleeve, “Doomed! We’re going to be spider food! We’re gonna be ghosts!”

“I’m not,” Quasar said, “Astron, maybe,” he crunched on a cookie, “Clutter for sure.”

“We’re not cracked yet,” Bolt patted her on the head, “There there, Fifth.”

She sniffled, “Don’t call me that, Sparky.”

Bolt exhaled with his arm out and just let her turn it into a tissue. The Thunderbolts weren’t going to be thrilled about this either. Except Lightning. They'd be charged about it. That many teams involved meant that the dumpling eating contest had been a ten marble race, and everyone else lost.

Quasar silently offered him the cookie box to take a treat, which he accepted with his free hand.

This was going to be a long week.

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