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sinisterexaggerator · 23 days

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Hello there!

I am here to ease ya'll into my favorite ship:

Banaka (Cad Bane x Hondo Ohnaka)

Best in the Bunch.

I have so much planned for these two in a fanfic I am only just beginning to write (that spans Cad Bane's entire life), but conversations with @allsystemsblue led me to write this fluff scenario and I could not stop myself.

Pretend that what you are reading is based on an already well-established relationship. Bane shows affection by acts of service and gift giving, as his feelings are something he has trouble with expressing. The rest is self-indulgent garbage.

I should mention this is not how the rest of said fic will go. This is a one-off just for fun. You can expect angst, drama, hurt, comfort, toxic relationships, violence and smut in the future.

Credit goes to Teeth for the idea that Hondo, while not believing in the God Quay, still finds comfort in performing magicks for his own peace of mind.

Word count: 1.4k+

Warnings: None. Fluff, a kiss, and a lot of negativity on Bane's part.

He didn’t know a thing about them, flowers, only that they might come in useful for a certain predicament he had found himself in, as it seemed most sentient beings thought the seed-bearing parts of plants—consisting of its reproductive organs, mind you—were somehow beautiful.

He supposed he could see it, what with their bright-colored corollas, petals coming in all shapes and sizes, typically paired with a calyx as green as his own blood. That was only on some planets. On others, they were red, or blue. Purple. Indigo.

On Florrum, they came in various shades of orange, or yellow, a rarity after an even rarer desert downpour.

Fragile is what they were, and a waste of money. The resources used to farm them could be utilized in more efficient ways. Perhaps he would like the wild ones better, though to pull weeds as a manner of apology didn’t seem good enough. Didn’t seem thoughtful enough. He was sure the Weequay would run him out.

Then again, apologizing wasn’t something he often did, as Bane rarely meant not to do something he had set his mind to. Only this time, he had hurt Ohnaka’s feelings.

Feelings. Hondo had too many, and maybe Bane had too few. Callous one might call him, insensitive another. Cynical was more like it; tired; disillusioned. Yet rare was the man who could crack him open to show him what lay beneath; like a geode, Ohnaka exposed his insides, revealing to Bane all the pretty bits he never would have known existed.

And Bane did care, if only when it suited him. If only on his terms. But this time, he cared because Hondo did. It was partially anathema, this caring, yet he did it anyway, unable to coax his mind to let their little squabble go.

To the pirate, it had been more than that, Bane insulting his very heritage. He didn’t understand the tiny dolls he kept, the archaic sources of illumination that were made of wax and smelled like things Bane could not identify, nor the bits and scraps of flimsi that had been burned to cinders.

These things decorated a small table, resting atop an ornate cloth; Bane had touched it much to the pirate’s chagrin, then disrespected his arcane practice, ridiculing his efforts to appease some nonexistent deity in order to bring about Bane’s good luck.

His job was dangerous, but the hunter was unaware he was being prayed for behind closed doors. Somehow, that had irritated him, more so as he didn’t understand it, thinking Hondo must be attempting to commit himself to witchcraft like those little ladies that lived on Dathomir.

“What’s with dhis nonsense. Ain’t no use in doin’ dhat,” he remembered saying; a poor choice of words to one who meant no ill will.

He understood that now, if nothing else. So what if Hondo lit a candle for him. Who was he to say he hadn’t lived to hunt another day because of it? It was possible the only thing keeping Bane alive besides his street smarts and good aim was the Weequay’s magicks; Bane shuddered to think that was the case.

Even so, here he was, holding a bouquet tightly in one hand and his hat’s brim in the other, deigning to do what he felt might be ignored. This was nothing more than a gesture to barter passage into the pirate king’s good graces—an act of service on his part, the buying of them—for in the here and now, there was nothing more he wished to accomplish in this life. Had you told him he would be doing this a year ago, he would have laughed himself hoarse, or worse yet, right into an early grave.

Yes, flowers. Expensive, frail, and pointless. He had chosen the prettiest of those assembled according to his tastes, selecting a color he assumed was the dummy’s favorite: red.

Ladalums were scarce and imported from Alderaan, a fact he’d learned upon their purchase. They would only bloom if pollinated on their homeworld; these were fresh off the cargo freight, able to last months if given the right treatment.

That was one good thing about them—once out of his hands, the rest was up to the pirate to take care of. He was good at that, Bane mused—caring for things.

Eyes and heads—not dissimilar from all the others that populated this chamber of sorts—turned to look at this bounty hunter who relunctantly proceeded with his walk of shame. Bane would bite back all his nasty words, even as members of Hondo's gang jeered and snickered at his expense.

What he wouldn’t give to kill them on the spot. Somehow, he imagined, that would not do him any favors.

Seated on a low dais, in a throne fit for a king no less, his disgruntled paramour still fumed, swoop-goggles purposefully removed to rest upon the front of his worn helmet. Those expressive gray eyes were the Duros’ weakness, finding that he could not meet his narrowed gaze. Already oblique, Hondo’s stormy depths had gathered further into slits, leaving Bane to swallow down his spit.

Still, he approached, feeling naked and vulnerable as he stood there like a scolded child without his hat to shield him. He did his best, fathomless red ellipses meeting Hondo’s glare head-on, Bane saying the only thing he could think to say.

“Brought some flowers.”

Nothin'. There was no reaction, not even a change in his demeanor or a brightening of mood. Bane overtly frowned, taking a step back for his boots to echo lightly against the duracrete floor of Hondo’s beloved fortress home.

Supposin’ this didn’t work, Bane planned for his retreat, hoping to retain some dignity among those present. He lowered his head, his hat rightfully returned to where it belonged by a flat palm, Bane ready to drop the bouquet like so much trash at his feet; it was difficult to care when you didn’t know how to fix the wrong you’d done. Trying wasn’t as good as doing. Doing was the hard part.

“Are dose for me?”

Four little words that set Bane’s heart to thumping, the hunter wisely keeping his eyes averted as he saw the pirate stand out of his periphery. He would only nod, an infinitesimal movement of his head, up and down, affirming what Hondo already knew—those flowers were for him.

His spark descended, that charming scoundrel who kept him going on a dark night of the soul; he strode down the short flight of stairs that would bring him nearly to his level, Bane taller than Ohnaka, though the man was bigger in some ways; his heart for one, Bane thought.

“Dey are beautiful, my Moon,” his bit of sunshine said, Bane’s sorrowful eyes rising out from the shade of his bolero.

“Picked de best in de bunch,” he humbly offered, words bordering a whisper, eerily heard as the hall was quiet, grim faces and furrowed brows sparing him none of his embarrassment. "Same could be said, fer ye,” he added.

It was then the Weequay smiled, a dazzling thing, brighter than dual suns. Bane relaxed openly as he expelled a breath from between his teeth; it was a slow, heavy sigh of relief.

“Flatterer,” Hondo teased, his smile spreading wider, gold amidst pearl and oh-so satisfying to witness should Bane be the sole cause of it. “Dey need water, hm?”

The shuffling of a crimson coat and an idle toss of a braid signaled to Bane that Hondo would exit, the hunter grateful his gift had been accepted. However, the Weequay would pause, turning about face, reflecting on the shrinking Duros as he had been tempted to follow in his footsteps.

“Just… one more ting,” he announced, his expression hardening back to a look previously sported as his voice lowered an octave, Bane’s heart sinking toward his belly as he did not wish to incur any more reprimands.

Hondo took him by his coat’s lapel, jerking him forward. Bane held onto his hat as dusky lips brushed across his, pinpricks of electricity teeming along his scales like minuscule lightning bolts. The Duros would slump his shoulders to sink to Ohnaka’s height, a warm, black tongue invading his mouth to skirt one that was cool and pink.

This must be what it felt like to be forgiven, he assumed, some invisible weight lifting from off his conscience.

“Take it ye like flowers,” Bane remarked once free of his kiss, wanting to fill the now awkward silence with something to lighten whatever tension might be left between them.

For Hondo, there was none. He could just as easily forget as he could forgive. A rough thumb smoothed down the bit of Bane’s flesh left assailable, brazenly descending to aid in the tweaking of one sharp fang.

“Yes,” Hondo harmoniously agreed, “you might say dat.”

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resident-gay-bitch · 2 months

Text

Fight & Make Up

marylene minor angst with a happy ending - 7.7 k words

“I broke up with Sirius.” Mary said, pressing the heavy wooden door to the dorm room closed behind her.

From her bed, Marlene looked up in alarm; eyes wide, body still, and the quidditch magazine she was reading had fallen through her hands, down onto her mattress. Across the room, Lily gasped. She was braiding her hair at the vanity when Mary had walked in, and turned around with an expression so similar to Marlenes, however, her eyes had more sorrow than Marlenes had.

Mary shrugged, moving into the room to sit on the end of Lily’s bed, closest to the both of them. She grabbed the fluffy stuffed bunny that had been discarded in the early morning rush and dropped onto the floor, popping it in her lap to play with its floppy ears, “It’s over… He was sad, but I think he fancies someone else anyway. Or at least he’s starting too. As strange as it sounds, I hope Sirius gets his way, they’d be much better together than he and I.”

“Why?” Lily asked, quickly tying off the end of her braid to give Mary her undivided attention, “What? Why…. are you okay, Mary?”

“I’m okay.” Mary gave a half hearted smile, “Well, I’m sad. It was a good relationship, and now it’s over, of course I’m going to be sad. I miss him already, he was sweet… got me flowers and shared his pudding with me… not to mention he’s bloody gorgeous and a brilliant snog.”

Lily snickered, her laugh so sudden that it caused her to make a snorting sound, much like a pig, when she scrunched up her nose. Mary finds it delightful when Lily laughs like that, it’s absolutely hilarious. Across the room, on her bed, Marlene did not make a sound.

“Never mind that though, those things can’t last forever.” Mary shrugged again, sitting the bunny down on the blanket beside her, looking up at the girls again. “I’m glad it’s over, actually. Better now than later, less drama that way. Plus, it’s nice to know that he cried a bit.”

“Sirius cried?” Lily asked, her mouth a little slack, “Hmm, maybe he’s not as much of a gorgeous prick as I thought.”

“No.” Mary laughed, “Believe it or not, the boy's got a heart. He is lovely, Lily. He’s just not the one, you know?”

“God, none of them ever are.” Lily groaned, tipping her head back over the chair, “All the boys here suck. All of them, every single one of them, all stupid gits… annoyingly attractive gits, but gits.”

Mary snickered, lifting a ringed hand to cover her mouth, “Too right, Lily… you wouldn’t happen to be talking about anyone in specifics, would you? Perhaps… one of Sirius’ stupid friend-”

“Absolutely not.” Lily said, turning bright red, “No, I’m not talking about James-”

“I never said his name, Lily.” Mary teased.

Lily went silent, her cheeks redder than her hair as she stared up at the roof. All that could be heard in the room for a short while were Mary’s quiet giggles that she tried to stifle behind her hand.

“Shit.” Lily said eventually, “Don’t you dare say anything.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Mary grinned, holding her hands up on either side of her head.

Lily flipped her off before smiling and turning her head to face Mary again, eyes wide with anticipation, “Okay, so, Sirius isn’t the one, sure… but there's got to be another reason, right? What pushed you to end it now, rather than when you just stopped having feelings for eachother?”

“Well…” Mary smiled softly, her cheeks going red, “You know, Sirius is falling for someone else, so it’s better to let him explore that then stress himself out with me. And, uhm. There's… someone else.”

“Someone else?” Marlene asked, the first sound she had made since Mary entered the room. Though her face still remained the same, eyes wide with shock and worry.

Mary cleared her throat, “Yes. Though, I will not be elaborating.”

“Boo!” Lily poked her tongue out, “Come on, you’ve got to tell us.”

“Absolutely not.” Mary shook her head, stern and sure, “It’s pointless, so… I’d rather just let it run its course, okay?”

Lily huffed and turned back to the vanity, fixing up her braid where it got messy at the end, “You’re boring.” She shrugged, “I am sorry, though, Mary. I’m here for you.”

“Yeah, thanks, Lils.” Mary smiled softly at her reflection. She turned her attention then to Marlene, the two of them staring at each other for a moment, “Well, are you going to say anything? Gloat about how right you were? Dance about how happy you are that it’s over?”

Across the room, on her bed, Marlene paled.

The first moment Mary confessed she had a small crush on Sirius Black in the beginning of fifth year, Marlene had an issue with it. Mary remembered the way her best friend pulled a strange face, scrunching up her nose to ask “Black? Ugh, why? He’s so vain.”

She protested every time Mary thought about making a move, pulled strange faces every time she called him cute, and countered every dreamy comment Mary made about him with her own distasteful one. And when something finally happened between them, just three and a half months ago, Marlene got worse.

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend for sixth year, and after a boring potions lesson when Mary and the girls were packing up their things, the boys were all shoving a pink cheeked Sirius forward with words of reassurance and laughter. He asked her out to The Three Broomsticks, pulled a small bunch of hand picked flowers from his pocket, and kissed her on the cheek, and Mary naturally said yes.

The entire rest of the day she had to put up with Marlene's yapping, unkind words about the boy she had just started to date. She even went so far as to interrupt their date, as they were giggling together in a quiet booth in the pub, Sirius’ arm around her shoulders as he nosed at her cheek.. Right as they were about to kiss, Marlene came barreling over and sat herself across from them, striking up an awfully boring conversation about broom polish and a new style of quaffle that just dropped, Lily chasing after in protest.

It drove a wedge between them quite quickly, the pair always at each other's throats.

If any of Mary’s friends had ever suggested she stopped having an interest in a boy, she’s always listened. Isn’t it the first rule of girl code that you trust your fellow females' judgement? Besides, friends always come first.

However, Marlene never really gave a good, valid reason as to why Sirius was such a bad match for Mary. It was always yaps about his overconfidence, or vanity, or all the stupid pranks he’d pull, or anything else about boys in general she could come up with. Which would have been understandable, if she hadn’t been so cool with Lily’s miniature crush on Remus a few years back, or so encouraging towards her now clear feelings for James; who, in Mary’s opinion, is much more arrogant and overconfident than Sirius.

Besides, Sirius wasn’t even that vain. Yes, he knew he had good looks, and yes, sometimes he used them to his advantage (see; flirting to get his way so the Marauders could efficiently prank), but he wasn’t awful about it. The first time Mary ever called him gorgeous he turned bright red and couldn’t fully form a sentence for three whole minutes he was so flustered.

Not only that, but Marlene and Sirius were actually quite good mates before Mary started dating him. They were practically best friends, getting up to mischief together and pulling James’ leg during quidditch practices. So why Marlene had such a problem with it remains an utter mystery to Mary.

That’s why she didn’t listen.

And Lily thought they were wonderful together, as did all of the Gryffindor (and Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, and even some Slytherin) girls who didn’t have a weird infatuation with Sirius and wanted him to themselves. So it really was just Marlene and her own issues that she was too stuck up about to disclose to Mary.

For a while there, Mary thought she was jealous. Marlene had never really expressed an interest in boys. When they were younger, she found it appalling when Lily and Mary talked about the cute boys in their classes. As they grew a little, she became more accustomed to it, and joined in on their discussions, but never expressed her own attraction to them. So the thought of Marlene having a crush on Sirius was a far away thought, that only occurred to Mary one afternoon about three weeks ago.

The girls had gotten all rugged up in their coats and scarves and mittens to go for a walk around the grounds when they bumped into Sirius outside by the old willow tree. He’d been setting up something for a prank, but finished up by the time the girls had reached him, so naturally, Mary invited him along.

It was only when Mary took her hand out of his to wrap half of her scarf around his neck, and slip one of her mittens onto one of his cold hands, that Marlene had had enough.

She stopped in the middle of their path, staring at the couple for a moment before expressing that “this is fucking stupid” before storming off in a huff of teary eyed anger.

She’d never said anything in front of Sirius before, and she’d certainly never thrown a tantrum like that. It took Lily shyly suggesting Marlene may have gotten jealous before chasing after her, did Mary actually consider it.

She felt awful. Going off and dating the boy her best friend liked, holding his hands and snogging him right in front of her. Oh, she felt so guilty about it, so terribly awful. She talked with Sirius quickly, which he felt very embarrassed about, before running off to find Marlene herself.

She didn’t find her in the end. However Sirius did. And when Sirius and Mary bumped into each other again just two hours later, he told her they had a little chat about it. He told Mary that Marlene very explicitly, and very angrily, expressed she had absolutely no interest in Sirius whatsoever, never has and never would. And she most certainly wasn’t jealous of Mary.

When Mary tried to talk to her about it that evening, Marlene didn’t allow it. She shut down and closed her bed curtains and didn’t talk to Mary for three days.

So Mary remains miffed.

She very wisely did not mention that the real reason she broke up with Sirius was because of Marlene.

One; she knew it would just end in an argument if she brought that up.

Two; Marlene would probably end up on a high horse about it and give Mary another headache.

Three; That someone else that snuck their way into the equation… Well, that’s Marlene.

Through their kind of falling out, Mary realised she missed Marlene more than she thought she would. It felt horrible to have her best friend ignore her, chastising her relationship and throwing silent tantrums whenever Sirius took away her attention.

She was plagued with thoughts of Marlene on the constant, and started to wonder if Sirius really was that right for her after all. She came to one simple conclusion whilst laying in his lap one afternoon after Marlene had strolled into the common room, seen them, rolled her eyes and abruptly left; Sirius is lovely, but he’s never going to be Marlene.

Honestly, the reason why Mary had clung onto Sirius for so long was out of sheer spite.

The way her and Marlene have always worked was a neat push and pull.

Marlene isn’t really like many other girls Mary knows. She’s messy, and loud, confident, snarky. She’s a little rough around the edges, has never cared about her looks for even one day in her life, all she wants to do is fly, and race, and play, and fight and help those in need of it. She’s never given a shit about anyone's opinions, and in first year, when some Slytherin girls told her she was ugly and dressed like a boy, she stepped on their toes and spat in their faces and threw out the only dress she ever owned.

To Mary, who grew up in a house where eyebrow plucking and lipstick and cute dresses were shoved on her from a young age, and a village where a woman's beauty was respected and expected, and a world where the only way she’d ever dream of getting her smart foot in the door was if she dressed the pretty part, Marlene was everything.

With Marlene, she could let go. She could wear baggy trousers around the dorm and look over to see her friend in similar ones, she could go an entire day without makeup knowing Marlene wouldn’t look at her any different for it. With Marlene she could run, and she could laugh, and she could scream, and she could play rough.

They’d argue and throw pillows at each other and chase one another around the dorm until they’d collapse in a heap and laugh together. They’d wrestle over who got to read their new magazine first and end up curled up and reading it together.

They’d argue about silly things, both so stupidly stubborn so it would escalate quickly. Mary would call her a slag, and Marlene would call Mary slut, and by the end of the evening they’d be brushing each other's hair and complaining about homework together as if nothing had even happened.

Lately, it’s been all fight and no makeup. And Mary misses it.

She realised that she only ever started so many arguments so they could make up. Because sure, when they’re kind to each other it’s nice enough. But when they fight, chase and wrestle, Mary can get close to her. She can get up in Marlene's space and touch her, feel her pale skin against the palm of her hand, the soft prick of her leg hair against fingertips, the hot breath that followed her brilliant laughter across her own cheeks.

When they make up, Mary gets to sit there and brush Marlene's hair whilst she narrates a celebrity magazine with extra commentary; Mary can run her fingers through the messy blonde locks and feel Marelene melt under the touch, and she can listen to the comfortable song of her voice and laugh at her stupid opinions about whatever scandal occurs that week and let it calm her.

When they Make up, Mary gets to lay her head on Marlene's shoulder whilst they read together, listening to the steady in and out of her breath, and if the position’s right, her heartbeat. She can let Marlene twist her fingers around the ends of Mary’s springy curls, or even scratch them up against her scalp; she can be wrapped under Marlene's arm and lay there for as long as she pleases. Too many times they’ve fallen asleep like that.

When they make up, Mary gets to lay in bed with her, looking into her crystal blue eyes in the dark, admiring the shimmer reflected in them from the light at the end of her wand. She gets to listen to Marlene's soft whispers of “Sorry, you’re my best friend, I don’t really think you’re a slut. I know the rumours aren’t true and wouldn’t even care if they were. Really, Mary, I love you, I’m such a git”, and feel her warm breath on her face, and inhale the comforting scent of Marlene's coconut shampoo and the remnants of her woody perfume. She gets to hold Marlene's hand, calloused and rough from years of quidditch and getting up to no good, and giggle with her, and lock their ankles together beneath the covers.

And it took Mary losing that, for what felt like for good, to realise how much she needed it.

She needs Marlene.

Though all of their nasty, through all of their dirty, through all of their horrible, Mary needs her. She needs her like she needs air.

She’s in love with her best friend, and she’s very nearly lost her. Over a boy.

Marlene didn’t say anything, she just slowly shut her bed curtains and didn’t come out all evening.

It was stupid of Mary to expect a fight anyway, they hadn’t fought in weeks. They just glare at each other, almost bursting into tears without any words shared between them, and walk away.

She’s so stupid for thinking they could just fight and makeup now. So fucking stupid.

☆ ★ ☆

“That’s it.” Mary said, shoving her book bag down on the end of her bed, storming into the centre of the room, Marlene trailing behind with a scoff.

“Oh, what ails Mary Almighty now?” Marlene rolled her eyes, taking off her own satchal and dropping it on the ground, “What gorgeous, dick having man has fucked and rejected you this week?”

“Marlene.” Lily scolded, sitting down on the end of her bed. She rubs her temples, already gaining a headache from their arguing. The first real argument they’ve had in months.

“What?” Marlene scoffed, “Am I wrong? Have you not sucked your way to heartbreak-”

“Marlene!” Lily said again, her eyes stern as she glared at her friend, “Enough with the slutshaming.”

“Tell Mary to stop being such a whore-”

“I’m sorry, do I make you jealous?” Mary asked, cocking her head. Marlene's words sting, but only on the surface. She knows that Marlene knows all those rumours that get around about Mary aren't true. That she’s only really been on a handful of dates at most and only ever slept with Sirius. But still, your best friend, forward slash current biggest enemy, forward slash the girl you’ve accidentally been in love with for years calling you a whore isn’t the tastiest pill to swallow. “I’m sorry men don’t take an interest in you, Marlene. Perhaps if you’d just put on a dress-”

“Oh, stop.” Marlene sassed, “I don’t want to fucking talk about it-”

“Well, I do.” Mary pressed.

“We are not talking about the lack of men interested in me-”

“No, I want to talk about us.”

Marlene went a little white, staring at Mary across the room for a moment. The silence stretched, tension so thick you could slice it with a knife. Mary held her ground, eyes locked on the other girl with ferocious need. She wasn’t losing this. She needed a fight, so they were going to fight.

Soon enough they’d have to make up.

Hopefully.

Marlene scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned away, losing that little battle. Mary internally celebrates, knowing things are going her way, finally. Perhaps they might really get somewhere, if Marlene is willing to listen.

Marlene loosens the tie around her neck before shrugging off her robes, tossing them messily onto her bed. Mary has an itch to go over and tidy her corner of the room, as she always used to help Marlene to do. But since their silence, Mary hasn’t helped once, and it really shows with the pile of dirty laundry peeking out from under her bed.

Mary doesn’t remove her robes, liking the feel of the thick fabric on her arms. It’s grounding, something else to grab onto instead of digging the sharp of her nails into her palms.

“Go on then.” Marlene says, sticking her hands sharply into the pockets of her trousers, shoulders tight around her neck as she wobbles on her heels and toes. “Talk. Tell me what tragedies have befallen us, McDonald-”

“Don’t call me by my last name, McKinnon.” Mary sneered back at her, folding her arms over her chest, “And you know exactly what I want to talk about-”

“Well, I’m not really interested, so-”

“Well, I don’t really care.” Mary said, glaring at her again with her eyebrows raised. Marlene gave her an icy look in return, her face petulant, like a child. “I’ve had enough of… whatever the fuck is going on, and I wan’t to talk about it. I’m sick of you ignoring me, Marlne-”

“As if you’re so innocent.” Marlene fired back, “The whole time you were with him you ignored everything I said. What happened to trusting your friends, hmm? I told you he was bad news-”

“And he wasn’t.” Mary retorted, “Nothing bad about him, Marlene. You used to act as if the sun shone out of his arse, half the time, before we got together. So what is it, hmm? What pissed you off so much about Sirius and my relationship?”

“Well, you said it yourself. He wasn’t the one. There’s someone else.” She groaned, spitting out the last part in a childish tone, wiggling her head to make fun.

“Obviously he wasn’t the one, Marlene.” Mary huffed, “He was my second boyfriend! I’m sixteen! That doesn’t mean we can’t date at all.”

“Yeah, well, I was trying to save you from heartbreak.” Marlene huffed.

“Well it didn’t work.” Mary said, her voice tight as she looked at the girl she loved. She looks so tired, big bags under her diamond eyes, her hair a mess from running her hands through it all day in stress. “You broke my heart, Marlene. You broke it the moment you turned against me and didn’t give me one good reason why.”

Marlene's expression drops, looking up at Mary with widened eyes. Her mouth gapes slightly, moving just a little, as if she wants to say something, but no words find their way out.

“What? You don’t like that?” Mary shakes her head in disbelief, “You don’t like the fact that the real reason I ended my relationship with Sirius is because I was sick of my best friend icing me out and getting upset over nothing? Is it so horrible to ask you to be happy for me? It feels awful, every day, to look at you and feel disgusted with myself for something I didn’t even do! I just wanted my fucking friend back, and two months have passed, Marlene, and you still fucking hate me!”

“One month.” Marlene muttered under her breath, the words slipping out of her lips as if she was desperate to say them, “It’s been one month… twelve days.”

Mary looked at her for a moment, unbelieving the words that had just left Marlene's mouth. She laughs, stressed, on the brink of tears as she brings her hands to her face and tugs at her hair, “Fucks sake, Marlene. Not the point!”

Marlene doesn’t say anything. She just stares at Mary, her head dipped, big wet eyes tracking Mary as she paces the room.

“What is it?” Mary begs, stopping and waving her hand out at Marlene, “Just tell me. Tell me what I’ve done that’s so bloody awful that you hate me! I don’t care anymore, Marlene. I just want to know! I want to know, I want to fix this… I miss you. Every day, I miss you, so please, for the love of Merlin, just tell me.”

“I don’t want to tell you.” Marlene confesses, and for the first time in months, Mary feels like she’s finally got something.

“Why not?” Mary asks.

“Because I feel awful about it.”

“I feel awful.” Mary tried, “I feel awful for even knowing Sirius, half the time. Why was it so wrong for me to be with him… to- to like him?”

Marlene closes her eyes and breathes. One deep breath in, and out, followed by another, and one more. Mary watches as she regulates herself, clearly fighting off tears as she clenches her fists at her sides, in the way she does, acting so stoic.

“It wasn’t wrong.” She eventually mutters, so quiet Mary barely hears it. But she does, because she listens. She listens so closely she even hears the tiny sob that rips its way from Marlene's throat before she snubs it with a cough.

Mary watches her, tilts her head to the side and takes in her sunken expression, “What’s your problem, then, Marlene? I’ve sorted through all of the options and I’ve come up dry.” She waves her arms out in stress, “I’m clueless. Absolutely fucking clueless. What have I done that is so awful to you?”

“Nothing.” Marlene says, a quick response followed by desperate eyes; aching with a genuinity Mary quickly finds, “You’ve done absolutely nothing. You’re- this isn’t about you. It’s me. I’m- I’ve done this to myself. It’s… I’ve been so scared, okay? Bloody terrified, so I… I shut you out, made everything worse. And it’s awful, isn’t it? It feels so awful. I’ve got this ache in my stomach that won’t go away, rotten with guilt, and I just keep making it worse.” Marlene clutches at her stomach, nimble fingers twisting in the white cotton of her dress shirt.

Mary feels her anger, that violent desperation inside of her, begin to dissipate. The desire to rip Marlene's head off and go fishing around her brain for answers no longer lingers, and instead, it fades to a helpless sympathy. She wants to reach out and stitch the broken pieces of Marlene back together, to wipe her eyes with the gentle pads of her thumbs and kiss her.

“What’s got you feeling so helpless, Marlie?” Mary asks, voice gentle like silk, the familiar nickname falling off of her tongue with ease, as if they've already made up and all is well again.

Marlene sobs again, around a saddened laugh, and a few tears slip past her summer eyes. Mary truly does love Marlene's eyes, gentle and gorgeous. She could stare into them for hours, endlessly just admiring the infinite beauty within. She loves them when they’re happy, and she loves them when they’re scared, and she loves them when they’re gentle, and she loves them when they cry.

She shakes her head no, the too long ends of her fringe slipping into her eyes, but she doesn’t brush them away. Mary wants too. If they weren’t fighting, she would.

“Tell her, Marlene.” Lily whispers from her spot on the bed. Mary’s frightened by the suddenness of her voice, she’d forgotten Lily was even in the room with them, the world narrowed down to her and the girl she loves.

Marlene shakes her head again, giving Lily a desperate look,; one that begs for rescue.

Lily stands up and walks over to her, brushing the ends of Marlene's fringe from her eyes, using her sleeve to dab at the tears on her lightly freckled cheeks, and Mary envies her. Just for a moment, she hates Lily for getting to touch Marlene like that, to care for her, to be gentle with her.

Marlene was never gentle, but with Mary, she learned how to be. It’s not fair that she finds it with Lily now too. Mary wants to keep that all to herself, to hide it away in the dark like a filthy secret. She wants to have the gentle caress of Marlene all to herself, to be the only one to touch her tears, the only one to sooth her anguish.

Jealousy rips through her like a flood, threatening to destroy everything in its path. All this build up, all this silence, and Mary doesn’t know how much longer she can keep it under wraps.

“Don’t be scared, Marlene.” Lily smiles softly, taking Marlene's shaky hand to sooth, “Tell her. Let it off your chest. You’ll feel better. Besides, it may not end so terribly, you’ll get through it. I’m here to help you through it.”

“I’m scared, Lily.” Marlene whispered, “I don’t want to lose her. She’s my best friend.”

“You won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” Lily promises, giving her hand a tight squeeze, “Tell her.” She nods before taking her leave.

It’s just the two of them, alone together in their big empty dorm room.

“Tell me, Marlene.” Mary whispers, too frightened of something bad happening if she spoke much louder. Her heart raced in her chest, beating so fast she could hear her blood pumping in her ears.

Marlene huffed, taking a moment to catch her breath and very pointedly not looking at Mary. It’s infuriating; to still be avoided when they’re standing right across from one another. They’re the only two in the room, trying to make up, and Marlene is still ignoring her.

Mary could kill her!

“Look at me-”

“I don’t want to look at you.” Marlene snapped back.

“Look-”

“No.”

“Marlene-”

“I’ll cry!” Marlene spat out, looking down at the ground, “Bloody hell, I’m pathetic… I’ll cry, Mary. Please don’t look at me, I’m trying to find the words, okay? Give me a moment.”

Mary sighed and nodded her head, making a show of turning around to face the wall, rather than Marlene, no matter how infuriating. Turned away, she already misses the sight of her; in her grass stained trousers, her wrinkled button up that she never tucks in properly, shaggy hair, her looser than usual tie, the boys shoes she wears for comfort, the silver band she always wears around her thumb.

She’s a walking contrast to Mary, who’s always neat and tidy, who tucks her shirt into her skirt with precision, her hair always neatly done, her tie always tight to her collar, Mary-Janes with cute frilly socks or stockings depending on the weather, and the array of dainty gold jewellery she changes most days.

Mary’s obsessed with her.

“You were right…” Marlene mutters, her voice strained. She’s clearly willing herself not to break down into tears, and Mary feels her stomach ache with empathy for the girl. She wants to turn and run and pull Marlene into her arms, to cradle her and stroke her hair and make it all better.

But she knows better. She’s not stupid. That’s not how this is going to work. So she stands there, facing the wall, and listens to Marlene talk.

“I was jealous.” She sniffled, “I was so… so fucking jealous.”

“Marlene-” Mary feels her heart crack, that horrible guilt sinking back in. She’s an awful friend, she knows it now; how she went so long without seeing the vibrant truth right in front of her. So what Marlene hardly expressed her interest in boys, maybe she’s just shy about them? So what Marlene denied being jealous when she was asked, she’s obviously not going to tell her best friend's boyfriend she’s into him.

It’s worse now though, because Mary knows she’s in love with Marlene. She’s so painfully in love with Marlene that the confession stabs her right in the heart and drags until it bleeds.

She’s just fucked everything up, hasn’t she?

“I’m- I’m so sorry.” She choked out, “I didn’t-”

“No.” Marlene presses, sniffling. Mary can hear her shuffling around, no doubt twitching in her spot. She does that when she’s anxious, hops from foot to foot, tries to balance on one leg before she wobbles and puts it down. It’s strange, she’s so strange, and Mary loves her all the more for it. She loves her, but she can never have. “You just… you listen to me, okay?”

“Okay.” Mary muttered, voice meek and broken. She’s trying her absolute best to not let Marlene hear her cry.

“Sirius and I were best mates- he’s… he was the first bloke who ever treated me as an equal, and not just some girl who wanted attention. When we both went up for beater on the quidditch team, he shook my hand and played against me with ruthless precision, and cheered for me when I hit the bludger harder than any of the other blokes there, and called me brilliant right before going to convince the captain to let me on the team.” She took a deep breath in, “He always pulled me into conversations with the team that I often felt left out of, being the only girl. I knew how he thought, I knew his type, and I knew how the entire bloody quidditch team felt about mesmerising Mary Mcdonald. They’d all ask me about you, what the best way to your heart was, how interested I thought you’d be in them, whether you’re interested in hookups or dating. So the moment you told me you liked him, my heart fucking broke, because I knew he thought you were gorgeous. I knew if you expressed any interest in him, he’d fucking pounce. And he did.”

Mary swallowed the lump in her throat, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shoulder. Behind her, she heard the bed creak under Marlene's weight. She sniffled and breathed, finding her next words.

“I told him not to, you know? I said it would be a bad idea- that it would fuck everything up. But he didn’t listen, the arrogant bastard. No doubt James’ doing, the romantic that he is. You know, I thought he’d come yell at me, after that first date of yours, after you and I fought about it. But you didn’t tell him. You didn’t tell him how much of a cunt I was being to you, and he had absolutely no idea why I stopped talking to him.” Marlene sighed and stood up again, her feet pattering on the hardwood floors, “You broke my heart, Mary… being with him. I’m in love, and it fucking hurts.”

Mary bit down on her lip and ignored the ache in her chest, her heart cut in two by the jagged knife, wielded by Marlene's tongue, “I’m so sorry, Marlie… I- I had no idea-”

“I know you didn’t. You weren’t supposed to ever know, Mary.” Marlene said, shuffling closer, “You’re not supposed to find out. But I just… I’ve never been good at handling my emotions, and you know I get so hot headed. I’m sorry for the way I acted, it’s unforgivable, and childish, and stupid, and I have no excuse. I just- I… it hurts, Mary… have you ever been in love?”

Mary nodded, looking forward at the poster of a muggle heartthrob hanging on the wall that her and Lily hung up together with giggles in their throats. She thought she was in love with him when she was thirteen, but of course it wasn’t love, it was just obsession.

But this… the way she feels about Marlene, that’s beyond obsession. It’s carnal desire, dripping poison. It aches and it stings and it pulls at her until there's nothing left. It’s love, love she feels so deeply, love she didn’t know she needed until it was too late. Much too late. She’ll never get it back.

“Were you in love with him?” Marlene asked, “Sirius?”

“I don’t know.” Mary sobbed, “I don’t know… but I have felt love, Marlene. I know how much it hurts. I know… I know.”

Behind her, Marlene took a deep breath, “You know how much it controls you then? The pain?”

“Yes.” Mary nodded, “It makes you feel fucking crazy.”

Marlene sniffled, “Oh, you were never meant to know, Mary. This ruins everything.”

“It doesn’t.” Mary sobbed, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she couldn’t contain it anymore. Everything aches, “It doesn’t, I promise. You can… Marlene, if you love him, you should tell-”

Marlene snickered, shuffling closer, pressing her forehead to the back of Mary's head, “I don’t love him, Mary.” She whispered, pressing closer, their bodies so close that Mary can feel the warmth radiating off her. Marlene took a deep inhale, burying her face in Mary’s curls before she let out a broken sob, “It’s not him I love, sweetheart.”

Mary freezes.

Her body goes rigid, tight and stiff, her seemingly endless stream of tears coming to a screeching halt. She feels Marlene let out a heavy breath, the warmth heating the back of her neck. She can sense Marlene struggling, knows her hands are clenching and unclenching at her sides, debating whether or not to reach out and touch.

But Mary is quite simply frozen. Even the two halves of a heart in her chest had stopped still for a moment. It all clicks into place, once a simple answer to this impossible equation; Marlene is in love with Mary, just as Mary’s in love with Marlene.

And all it took to get here were two broken hearts and a five month long fight.

And where is “here” anyway? The hollow dormroom they stand in? In this bubble with Marlene pressed to her back, wondering if she can risk pressing closer? On this bridge between broken hearts they’ve slowly begun to build? Or is it in the stitchings of Mary’s heart as it mends itself back together in her chest? Because Marlene loves her, she’s in love with her, just as Mary is.

“Here”, wherever it is, is the only place Mary ever wants to be.

All this wanting created all this fighting, and now all this fighting means a whole lot of making up.

Mary thinks this makeup is going to be her favourite makeup of all.

“You’re in love with me?” Mary whispered, pure awe dripping from her voice as she reached back to grab Marlene's hands.

Marlene tenses, her hands stiff in place, reluctant to let Mary move her, “Yes?”

“Well, are you certain, or not?” Mary asked, turning her head slightly to look back at the other girl. They locked eyes for a moment, and Mary lifted an eyebrow in mock curiosity, “Because if you’re not completely sure, then you’ve got a really shitty reason to go and fuck everything up.”

“I’m sure.” Marlene muttered, her crystal eyes locked onto Mary’s, “I’m… I love you- fuck, that’s… I never thought I’d say that to you. Romantically. I never thought I'd confess.”

“Why not?” Mary asked, gently rubbing her thumb over the back of Marlene's palm.

“Because…” Marlene furrowed her brow, a sad smile creeping onto her face, “I’m not stupid, Mary. You like boys- and even if you didn’t, even if you somehow managed to be the only other queer in this bloody school, the chance of you loving me? I know it would never happen. I thought I made peace with that, but… Sirius mucked it all up.”

Mary gave her a small smile, “Sirius is a mess like that.”

Marlene nodded.

“You know… you’re not the only queer. They’re everywhere.”

Marlene snickered, “Yeah, sure. Old McGonagall’s a lesbian, is she? Grading papers by day, minge licking by night?”

Mary furrowed her brow, “Marlie… McGonagall is a lesbian.”

“No she’s not.” Marlene said with a smile. Mary watched as it slowly faded, “No she’s not.”

“Why do you think she has that photo frame of her and Madame Pomfrey hugging on her desk- what do you think their five o’clock undisturbed tea times every evening are?”

“What?” Marlene gasped, “She’s not- don’t joke with me, Mary-”

“I’m surprised you don’t know this- it’s common gossip, Marls. Ask anyone.”

“Bloody hell.” Marlene said, swiping a hand through her hair, “Is that why she sat me down and said she sees herself in me- oh Merlin, that conversation makes so much more sense now.”

“Marlene!” Mary laughed, spinning around to face her, “Did McGonagall talk to you about her experience as a lesbian without you… picking up on the fact that she’s a lesbian?”

“Apparently!” Marlene gasped, running her strong hands over her face, “Oh, that’s awful- I’ve got to talk to her. I was so weird.”

“You git.” Mary snickered, “Trust you to miss a massive sign like that.”

“Yeah, I would, wouldn’t I?” Marlene sighed.

“I- uhm… I don’t know how you feel about Sirius at the moment, Marlene, but… if you find yourself being friends again, maybe… you know… keep your eyes open for sign-”

“Sirius?” Marlene gasped, taking a step back, “But you two- he likes girls…. He-”

“You can like both, you know.” Mary said, setting her hands on her hips as she gave Marlene a stern glare, looking down at her, since just a smidgen taller, “You know Bowie? The one Remus is so obsessed with? He likes both, it’s called bisexual.”

“Oh.” Marlene said, furrowing her brow as she looked to the ground.

“Point is… I don’t think Sirius knows that Sirius is bisexual yet, but, uhm… you know, he talked an awful lot about one of his very male friends. And a lot of those conversations consisted of language like handsome, and brilliant, and hot.”

“Oh.” Marlene sighed, “You know, come to think of it, he’s said a lot of similar things about the blokes on the quidditch team. I always assumed he was trying to talk them up for me, and doing a very bad job at it…”

“Poor thing.” Mary sighed, dropping her hands from her hips, “Anyway, you’re not alone, Marlene. Never have been.”

Marlene nodded, the mood suddenly sombre again. She fiddled with her thumb ring, “You… you don’t hate me?”

“Why would I hate you? You’re my best friend. I love you through everything, just as Lily does. You know this.” Mary said, smiling kindly at the beautiful mess she fell in love with.

“Because I’m a lesbian.” Marlene shrugged, “I thought…”

“Well, I don’t hate you.” Mary said quietly, “Never could.”

Marlene nodded, “And I’m in love with you.”

“How’s that any reason to hate you?”

“Because I’m creepy.” Marlene said, eyes wide as she looked at Mary, “I’m… weird. I start fights with you just so we can make up and be close to one another.”

Mary closed her eyes, trying to fight off the most radiant smile she’d ever found herself smiling. It’s embarrassing, really, how smitten she is right at this moment.

They’re hopeless.

Terribly fucking hopeless, both desperately clinging to one another, trying to get all that they can. Savouring every moment shared together, clinging, begging for just a little bit more.

Things don’t feel so hopeless anymore.

“Just so you'll… you’ll brush my hair and run your lovely hands through it.” Marlene whispered, gently taking Mary by the hands, brushing her calloused thumbs over the soft skin of her knuckles. “So that you might lay on my chest, so I can breathe in the smell of you, and play with the ends of your hair- how do you get it so soft, Mary? It’s so soft.”

“Because I look after it.” Mary said with a mocking smile.

Marlene rolled her eyes, a small smile curling up the ends of her pink lips. They’re a little chapped, as they usually are. Mary had gotten into the habit of handing Marlene her lipbalm everytime she happened to reapply, but months apart, she’s clearly severely been lacking in it.

Mary reached into her pocket and pulled the lipbalm out, handing it over to Marlene with a huff.

Marlene rolled her eyes and applied it, smacking her lips together, “Hmm, berry?”

“Gooseberry pie.” Mary offered, “It’s new.”

“It’s nice.” Marlene gave a shy smile, handing the lipbalm back, “Missed your lip balm… yet another reason I’m a creep. I don’t understand why you’re not mad.”

“Marlene…” Mary took her hands gently again, “Why would I be mad at someone for being in love with me?”

Marlene rolled her eyes and grumbled, shaking their joined hands in frustration, “Because I’m a weirdo who only puts your lip balm on so I might know what it tastes like to kiss you.”

“Does it taste nice enough to kiss?” Mary asked, blinking her eyes up at Marlene as she made herself small.

“Obviously.” Marlene sighed, bowing her head in shame, “I want to kiss you all the time, Mary. I’m just… awful- why’d you give that to me? I was getting used to not knowing.”

Mary smiled, shuffling a little closer, “So your lips wouldn’t be all gross and dry when I kiss you.”

“Yeah, righ-” Marlene gasped, the breath seemingly punched from her lungs when Mary pressed their lips together, “Mary!”

Mary pulled back, holding Marlene's hands tight down by their sides, “Marlene?”

“Don’t…” Marlene muttered, “Don’t fuck with me.”

“I’m not fucking with you, Marlie.” Mary whispered, leaning in to brush their noses together again, “You’re the entire fucking reason I broke up with him. Your… infuriating attitude and absence in my life made me realise how much I miss you- how much I need you. I missed our fights, because I missed making up too. I realised I used to start fights, just to get close to you after. I love you, Marlene. I mean it.”

“Double swear it?” Marlene asked, her voice breathless and awe struck.

“Triple.” Mary muttered, “I swear it on Lily’s life.”

“Fuck.” She whispered, dropping Mary’s hands to grab her by the face and tug.

Mary had never had a kiss to earth-shatteringly magnificent. This kiss has nothing on the movies. Marlene holds her tight in her grasp, like a treasure she’s terrified of dropping. She’s pressed so close that the only thing Mary can feel is Marlene, she’s all she knows at this moment. She kisses hard, and desperate, with teeth and tongue and bite. It’s rough and ruthless and so fucking perfect, far beyond anything Mary had ever dreamed of.

She buries her hands in Marlene's tousled hair and tugs, pressing her body into the shape of Marlenes, slotting together as if they were made for one another. Marlene makes a needy sound into Mary’s mouth that has her legs beginning to buckle and her head spinning with want.

They go stumbling back, collapsing down onto Marlene's bed, where they draw the curtains and don’t emerge until morning. It’s definitely Mary’s favourite way of making up now.

☆ ★ ☆

thanks for reading!! comments and reblogs are always very very appreciated and i love reading all that you have to say!

this was my firs wlw centric fic actually so im really excited to be posting it! and i promise im not projecting my own failed lesbian highschool lovestory onto it at all.

anyway, hope you enjoyed the readdddd!!

read here on ao3 :)

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