#letting darla take the risk instead.

[tenderjock]

....

honestly now that we're not dealing with a xander that had to watch angel and buffy date in high school yeah he probably wouldn't be such an ass about her vampire lovers. xander is her best friend, he would get to know

i'm definitely not anti-xander, in fact i'm a big fan of, like, the xander that xander was not allowed to be by the cishet male writers of btvs :) i think theres a real solid good guy underneath the '90s casual misogyny and the internalized biphobia and the cringey, inconsistent characterization :))) he has such moments of shining beauty.

i also do love xander and anya being married but separated as almost a bit? like, they live apart but get coffee together every morning and bitch about nothing before they have to go to work. anya is avenging again and xander doesnt like it but he cant tell her what to do. xander is drinking again and anya doesnt like it but she cant tell him what to do, either. they have sex with each other semi-regularly and DEFINITELY dont have sex with other people.

("although we could," anya says. "oh yeah," xander says. "yeah, we could. if you - i mean, i wouldnt mind. obviously. i'm not your - i mean, i am your husband, but i wouldn't - it'd be fine." "you could have sex with as many or as few stupid, vapid sluts as would have you," anya says. "sure," xander says. "just my type.")

i think buffy and spike and dru have a special bond in this because of the summer they spent in l.a. and everything that came out of that. i mean, angel was buffy's big first crush, and darla was and remains her mentor, but spike and drusilla are her partners in crime in a way that even willow and xander - who are like her human partners in crime - dont quite get. and then when the three of them started having sex, it really drew them together as a trio.

tara's alive in this au but she's moved to berkeley in the s6-s7 summer break and broken up with willow after almost dying. because i decided so.

s7 faith and kendra come back ... idk i feel there are big changes here. robin shows up, obvs, and he hates spike at first because he mistakenly believes spike killed nikki so we get a really touching scene where spike tells him about how much nikki loved him, what she did for him etc etc - kind of the opposite of what happened in canon lmao. i think jenny and giles get in a big fight honestly, because giles is so not down with buffy having a vamp harem, whereas jenny is cautiously okay with it and supportive.

the potentials would be SHOCKED and i think a lot of them would question buffy's judgement and reasoning, too. it would cause a lot of tension. especially like

NEW POTENTIAL SLAYER: [stumbles to the kitchen to get a glass of water in the middle of the night] [four pairs of eye shine flicker in the pitch black kitchen] NEW POTENTIAL SLAYER: [shrieks]

#I keep thinking of how s7 would go honestly and ohhh my heart. I think it'd be so goddamn SWEET

also just the mental image of a big vamp cuddle puddle in the middle of a socal heat wave and buffy being able to snuggle in the center of all FOUR of her honeys without overheating ahhhhhhhhhh

theres an au somewhere in which the romani spellcaster that curses angelus doesnt just curse angelus, but rather curses every vampire of the aurelian line in a, say, twelve mile radius to get their soul back.

it's rough, especially for the first few years. spike's the weepiest, but angel takes it the hardest, oddly enough. dru's absolutely nutty over it, but she's always nuts, and anyway, having the three of them to wrangle gives darla something to focus on other than the weight of her sins. they manage.

(one thing she does is research what, exactly, has been done to them. when she finds out about the loophole - even a moment's happiness - there is a gut-lurching second where darla thinks to herself, i can end our agony. and then she thinks of her last kill, a young couple and their toddler. the father had begged darla to spare the little child's life, to take him instead. the mother had clawed at darla, covering her child with her body, screaming as she died.

rather than find that moment's happiness, darla begins new research, looking into ways to secure an immortal soul to a vampire's body permanently. closing the loop, as it were.)

spike eventually gets it into his head that he wants to do the slayer thing - not kill them, like he'd planned, but to help the poor girls. dru gives him the idea. angel leaves them, at that point, in the dead of night, without telling them where he's going. darla lets him go.

there's a girl in peking - xin, her name is, and she's understandably skeptical, but she accepts their help. they fight with her until she dies, a few months later, at the hands of an apocalypse. it breaks spike and dru quite badly - cuts spike's face up, too. darla gets them out, gets them back to europe. leaves them in italy. looks for angel.

she finds him eating rats in new york city, of all places. she shakes some sense into him and gets him some clean clothes, some blood, a place to sleep out of the sun. he's wallowing, which is to be expected, but how does he figure he's going to atone for his sins if he's rotting in the gutter like so much trash?

she's too practical, he tells her. he's too fucking dramatic, she tells him, and makes him eat some more pig's blood, cold.

darla tells him about spike and dru, what they've been up to these past few decades. he shudders when she tells him about xin, her throat ripped out by enemy fangs. angel's intrigued by the concept of helping slayers, but he confesses quietly to darla that he's not ready for that yet.

so they part ways again, with the understanding that they'll stay in touch. darla bounces around the americas, running into spike and dru - sometimes just dru, as spike is off chasing rumors of slayers - until the late 1990s, when she gets a call from angel.

angel's found a girl, and he wants to get the gang back together.

[yandere-fics]

ooooh i love those "darling wants to break up" scenarios... how would the sisters react to their darling wanting to end stuff?

♡ How They React To Their Darling Trying To Break Up ♡

♡ There are plenty of valid reasons to want to break up with Skye, namely her emotional unavailability. It gets frustrating after awhile that she is never willing to be vulnerable until you are first, she's had this issue with previous lovers, however you are the first who she has been yandere for so while with past ones she would always break it off before they could, with her she was just desperately hoping you were not actually going to do it while being unable to will herself to do anything to fix it and once you do dump her, she grins and bears it trying to will herself to not care and not be emotional about this. ♡

♡ She tries very hard to ignore it and seem like she could care less but everyone can tell that she's practically a walking corpse. In the end Sophie has to step in and perhaps the basement for you so that way her sister can be happy again. Skye falls into a delusion after you leave her with her three extremely delusional sisters whispering in her ear that they know you didn't mean it because you and her were the best couple they'd seen in awhile. Skye is the most lucid sister but her sisters help her to lean into her instincts and so by the time you're in her basement, she sees absolutely nothing wrong with her actions anymore. ♡

♡ Sophie would stop talking and just stand there, not leaving your room or house for an hour, just thinking about what the hell you just said. You can scream and yell at her to leave or you can even apologize for what you said and take it back but she's still frozen in place. Her house really wasn't prepared for this yet, she didn't want to have to kidnap you when she was still living with Skye because there's only one basement in the house and she doesn't want to take up the basement when her sister might need the basement too but Sophie can't risk letting you roam in her house until she makes you realize how relationships ought to be. It's a blessing for her that you don't realize everything she's thinking otherwise you'd already be calling the police on her. ♡

♡ It takes her a bit to come to a conclusion about what to do with you, while she doesn't like it she'll just have to lock you in your own apartment with nothing in it for you to escape so that way she has time to prepare the basement for you. This will have to be a rushed job, she stands guard near your apartment even though she's pretty sure you'll be asleep for the next few hours after she knocked you out, meanwhile she's on the phone with her sisters directing them to everything they need to get. Ellie is hacking your wishlists online to use Sophie's crime money to spoil you, Darla is spreading rumors you left town temporarily so no one will report you missing, and Skye is cleaning the basement so everything can be loaded in there. ♡

♡ She just simply laughs. You probably did it in private to spare her feelings since she didn't seem harmful enough to need to do it publicly. She was a bit clingy sure but your girlfriend was by no means dangerous, right? If she was then there's no way she'd be nearly as popular as she is. Still you weren't expecting her to laugh and turn to you, "gently" reminding you that she could ruin your entire life just out of boredom one day so it's not in your best interest to leave. People would automatically assume the fault lies with you if you two were to split so she's just protecting you from making a really bad choice. Anyways what do you want to do tonight? You two should go on a date. ♡

♡ If even her threats didn't work then she'll just have to figure something. She won't make good on her threats, instead she'll complain to all her friends about how she just got so busy on exams and then some random bitch acted like she was cheating on you so you had a little misunderstanding and the poor thing is just so scared of you hating her and she just doesn't know how she'll win you back. And thus begins the entire schools campaign to get you back in Darla's arms, and it will work eventually. It likely won't even be a week until you cave, she's very sure about this and after that she's going to make sure you're tied to her forever. ♡

♡ Hah! As if you could break up with her. You're literally trapped in her apartment from the moment she decides she loves you so if you do decide to try breaking up with her, just to see if that will work she will simply start biting you everywhere so it's undeniable that you are with her. How could you break up with her when you are covered in her marks? If she bit it then it's hers and therefore you are extra hers because you have been bitten literally everywhere. You're so stupid for thinking this would work. She has to do all she can to remind you that you are hers. You can never doubt it again. She knows she's not the best partner but at least she's trying why can't you understand that? ♡

♡ She's going to take a couple days off of work the first time you say it to show you how good of a girlfriend she can be and she'll also start making herself work quicker, not bothering to eat and neglecting her health while she's working so she can spend more time with you from now on. She's been trying to get a promotion but that can wait until you understand that she's doing all this work to make up for all her faults. You wouldn't want to be with her if it wasn't for all her work, she knows this for a fact so please just let her do her best to become worthy of you. ♡

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Spelling Bee (Brick/Blossom)

Happy birthday to @genovah​! She is always inspiring me to come up with more PPG content, a true hero. I’m back with another entry in the ongoing Shooketh, Not Stirred high school AU Reds series for your entertainment. As always, this can be read alone, but it happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom hunker down in the library to study for the upcoming regional spelling bee.

***Reblogs are extremely appreciated, since this probably won’t show up in the tags due to cursing. Thank you! <3

xxx

In fairness, Brick had come to the library during his free period with the pure intention to learn. And he was certainly learning something. But somewhere between sliding into his seat opposite Blossom and watching her lips move around insouciant as if it were a strawberry slathered in ganache, his purity was torn from his weak, teenage boy fingers and there was absolutely no going back. 

“Brick, are you listening to me?” She touched his hand across the table. 

“Yup.”

“Did you need me to repeat the word?”

“Yup.”

“In-SOO-see-uhnt.” She sounded it out slowly, and hand to god, that dominating SOO went straight to his cock.

This, of course, was fine. 

“Origin?” he asked. 

She twirled her hair around her finger and puckered her lips. “French.”

Fuck.

“I…”

Blossom mistook his increasingly horny stupor for plain old stupor and sighed. “Are you even trying? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were completely fine with Darla Dimpleton going to regionals instead of one of us.”

“I am not fine with that.”

Darla Dimpleton was an unassuming, unthreatening nobody with the personality of plain oatmeal. Brick would never have even bothered to learn her name had she not committed the cardinal sin of scoring so much extra credit while everyone else was busy having lives that she stole the number one GPA right from under him. Which meant she stole it from under Blossom too. Which meant Brick was no longer a respectable silver medal to Blossom’s gold, but currently ranked third and therefor merely happy to be on the podium at all (and for the record, no one has ever been happy merely to be on the podium, just like no one has ever been happy winning Most Improved: you sucked, and now you suck a little less. Except this time, you actually suck more because Darla fucking Dimpleton decided to Quaker Oats her way to the top of this rat race that doesn’t actually matter, but it’s the principle of the thing, i.e., the only thing that matters.). 

All of this to say, Darla Dimpleton was the Worst™ and she was one hundred percent going down. 

“Are you sure? Because you’re being awfully cavalier about this. Some might even call you insouciant.”

It was a testament to Brick’s powerful fondness for winning and being seen doing it that he spelled insouciant in one Darla Dimpleton-shaped cock blocking breath.

Blossom smiled like she knew something. “Much better.”  

Yeah, she knows a lot of things.

The problem with dating, Brick was convinced, was that suddenly the mundane became extraordinary. Everyday experiences that he had previously taken for granted—flying around Townsville, enjoying a cup of coffee, thwarting his sometimes murderous demonic overlord from distributing incriminating polaroids, that sort of thing—were suddenly exciting, thrilling even. Because now he got to do those things with Blossom, and Blossom was cool in a smarmy, elitist sort of way that both softened his heart and hardened his dick all at the same time, and that was kind of A Lot to deal with at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“All right, do me,” Blossom said, and Brick coughed so badly his aforementioned weak, teenage boy fingers shook to stifle himself. 

Mercy, he thought, probably. But all his blood was rushing south and it was going to take a supernatural willpower to get through these words so that one of them could beat the upstart porridge peasant to this year’s regional spelling bee. 

“You’re the boss,” he said, because it was true, and also because he liked the way she looked at him when he said it. Like he was now the ganache-coated strawberry in this overextended metaphor that he was too laden with Homeric concupiscence being in her general proximity to unpack. 

Concupiscence, there’s a ten dollar word for you, you horny genius. 

He made a mental note to brag to Blossom about this later. 

“Okay, let’s see…” Brick made a show of organizing the flashcards so that she wouldn’t see him discreetly re-situate his pants under the table. “Your word is cymotrichous.”

Blossom tapped her lips, and Brick found himself sympathizing with the Puritans in their absolute befuddlement over the libidinous effect of women having lips. Witchcraft, surely. “Could you use it in a sentence for me?”

Compelled entirely by black magic and therefor not responsible for his imminently questionable choices, Brick obliged her with: “Thinking about how I’d rather run my fingers through your cymotrichous hair for the rest of free period instead of sit here spelling words no one’s ever heard of.”

Blossom, who he was dead certain was extremely thirsty for him and had been for years long before they ever reconciled their rivalry, leaned over the desk separating them. Her hair, long and loose and indeed quite wavy today, was tempting. “Brick, are you flirting with me?”

It was a well-known fact of being a Weak-Fingered, Teenage Boy that one must never reveal such weakness, especially not in front of one’s girlfriend. On the other hand, co-opting said weakness and rebranding it as the suave truth was galaxy brain levels of flirting. And Brick, as has already been established, was a horny genius. “Yup.” He leaned in to meet her, and he twirled her hair between his fingers because they were weak for her, indeed. “How am I doing?”

Blossom, too determined to let her thirst deter her from her goal of sweet, academic retribution and bragging rights, tapped a finger to his lips. “Great. But we have so many words to spell, and only thirty minutes left to do them all. So get shuffling, stud.”

Well, he could work with that. One thing that made his relationship with Blossom work very well was their insatiable competitiveness. Whether they were whaling on each other over an empty parking lot, debating the efficacy of post-its as a note-taking device, or combining their powers to Captain Planet a cornmeal know-it-all back down the leaderboard where she belonged, they were relentless glory chasers. And the greater the challenge, the more they enjoyed the experience and each other. 

Blossom spelled her word perfectly, by the way. She stretched out the o-u-s at the end in a bewitching little whisper as she pulled away and her hair slipped through his fingers. That moment when the light changes and the temperature shifts and you’re weightless in a state of existential anticipation of something monumental about to happen, but not quite? That happened. Thirty minutes to explore the shape of that anticipation was enough time to taste it but not enough to savor it. Which, Brick supposed, was about to make this the best thirty minutes he was likely going to get all week. 

“Are you ready?” Blossom watched him from behind the card she’d drawn. She had a glint in her eyes that told him she was smiling behind that card. 

“Anytime.”

“Your word is eudaemonic.”

That fucking gorgeous ooh again.

“Define it.”

Blossom flushed as though he had just ordered her to bend over. She bit her lip (it must have been a ten Hail Mary’s kind of day when the Witch-Finder General caught a flesh and blood woman doing that with her improbably sorcerous lips) and grinned. “It means producing happiness. Based on the idea of happiness as the proper end of conduct.”

Producing happiness, which is proper, much like how Blossom came off as proper and even prim around adults, when really she was the most fun, most confident, most person he’d ever met, especially when she was spelling in that chiffon top (son of a bitch, that was a great top on her), and the only conduct he was interested in was of the happiest kind.

“Oh.” His throat clenched, and then his stomach twisted, and then his pants grew little too tight again in a full-body chain reaction that began and ended with a fierce determination not to give in first even though it would mean release because release would be meaningless without this etymological tête-à-tête. 

Don’t think about tête-à-têtes. 

Seventeenth century, noun, borrowed from the French meaning literally “head to head” (please, please stop hurting yourself like this).

“Brick?”

Brick cleared his throat. “Yup. Got it. E-u-d…”

Crisis averted, Brick picked the next card and promptly choked on his own tongue. Blossom made a show like she was concerned and are you all right? and please drink some water. Brick drank her water, which of course she had had her anatomically heretical lips on earlier, which was just fantastic for him. Tuesday fucking morning. 

Milieu was her word. 

“Milieu, hmm.” Blossom’s smile was spellbinding, which was a pun because he punned when he panicked. “Origin?”

You bitch, he thought, and be cool, and also, witchcraft.

Brick leaned back in his chair, slipped his trembling hands in his pockets, and squeezed every ounce of anything you can do I can do better into a winsome grin. “French.”

Blossom’s adult-facing façade cracked like an egg, and he got a glimpse of the raw delight she felt for this game, for the words, and for him for making it happen. For cultivating the electric milieu, if you will, currently driving them both into a state of impassioned, competitive euphoria at 9:42 a.m. in the library. 

“Right, um…” She stumbled over her words, and Brick had to restrain himself from crowing for joy and risk the rheumy-eyed librarian coming to scold them. 

By the time they got through another set of words, they were each visibly frustrated and doubly turned on by the other’s masochistic resolve not to throw in the towel. 

“Okay, ready for another round?” 

She wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions now, and that was just fine with Brick. “Of course.”

One more.

If it was another French word, he was fucking done. 

“Really?” Blossom truly had ice in her veins for the way she was able to school her face then. He couldn’t read her, and that was very bad. 

If it’s another fucking French word…

He could be over the desk and on her faster than you could say concupiscence. 

“Okay.” Blossom set down the flashcard she’d drawn and folded her hands on the table. She looked him dead in the eye licked her lips. “Succedaneum.”

The bookshelf shook but Brick’s fingers didn’t as they pinned Blossom’s over a Dewey Decimal-stamped spine and he kissed her with all the horny passion of a teenage genius who would make a note to thank the devil for giving women lips. One of his better ideas. 

xxx

“Hey, has anyone seen Blossom? I’ve sent her, like, four texts!” Bubbles shoved her phone, open to the ignored texts in question, in her sister’s face. “She was supposed to help me with Chem homework.”

Buttercup ducked. “No, and watch where you’re swinging that thing.”

“I saw her earlier,” Boomer said. “She was with Brick coming out of first period.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mike slung his arm around Boomer’s shoulders. “Don’t they both have a free period right now?”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “What a scam. Whoever decided to give the A-students free periods while the rest of us mere mortals gotta slave away is a straight-up Supervillain.”

Boomer snapped his fingers. “Hey, I just remembered! They both decided to compete for the spot at the regional spelling bee this year. I bet that’s what they’re doing.”

“God, that’s the saddest thing I have ever heard in my life. That’s a new low even for Blossom.”

“I heard there’s a cash prize for the regional winner,” Bubbles said. “It’s like twenty thousand bucks! Remember, everyone in school signed up and we had to have that assembly to narrow it down?”

“Twenty thou— How the tits did I miss that?!”

“I mean, it was all over the school,” Mike said. “We signed up too.”

“What? And no one thought to tell me I could’ve won the lottery?”

Boomer chuckled. “Dude, come on. You wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell against Darla Dimpleton.”

“Who?”

Bubbles cast Boomer a not worth it look, and he just sighed. “So, if they’re studying for the spelling bee, do you think they’re in the library?”

At that moment, Butch came bursting down the hall a little too fast to be human. Open lockers rattled on their hinges as he passed, and a Sophomore girl’s binder went flying, scattering looseleaf papers everywhere. Buttercup looked ready to punch him in the dick for breaking the no powers in school rule. “Guys, you’re gonna shit!” 

“Calm down before you blow a load, Jesus Christ.” Buttercup yanked him back down to the floor so he wouldn’t spontaneously float. 

Sensibly, Boomer asked, “Why?”

“‘Cause Brick and Blossom are making out in the library right now!”

Mike cringed. “Oh, come on.”

“The hell they are,” Buttercup said. 

Bubbles smiled. “Good for them.”

“I’m serious! There were books everywhere, and the noise—”

“Oh look, there goes my dignity. Better catch it before it gets away. C’mon, moron.” Buttercup dragged Butch down the hall over his protests. “What were you even doing in the library? I didn’t think you knew where it was…”

“Like that could ever happen,” Mike said. “Those two wouldn’t waste a minute of study time if it means beating out the competition.”

Boomer did not look so convinced. “I don’t know. I mean, they’re officially, for real dating now,”—“Finally!” Mike interjected—“so it’s not that unbelievable.”

The bell for the next period rang. Bubbles groaned thinking of stewing for an hour of Chem. At least she shared that class with Boomer and would not have to suffer alone. They parted from Mike and walked together through the throng of students rushing to get to their next period.

“Hey, do you think…” 

“I mean…” Boomer shrugged. 

They rounded the corner and nearly ran into Blossom dashing to her next class with a rushed “Got your texts talk later bye!” before she disappeared into the crowd. 

Bubbles whirled on Boomer. “Did you see her buttons—”

“Completely uneven—”

The late bell rang and made them jump. Among the last stragglers, they both dashed a bit too fast to get to class and made it to their seats just as Mr. Micelli finished writing a problem on the board. 

Boomer winked when she caught his eye a couple desks away from hers, and it took everything she had not to laugh.

“Good for her,” Bubbles said to herself. 

“You are late,” Mr. Micelli said. 

Everyone turned to watch Brick sink into his seat, his short hair totally askew and looking healthily flushed for a Tuesday morning. 

Boomer burst out laughing and needed a whole minute to calm down. 

He’d tell her later that the detention was worth it.

xxx

Witchcraft! 👁️👄👁️✨

[dontwarnthetadpoles]

I'm rewatching some parts of Ats and i still think that Cordelia has no reason to be on this show: the writers dragged her from Btvs where she had a long term arc and relationships built since the pilot (that they clearly dropped in season 3 because they knew they were sending her to the spin off), to bring her to Ats with no plans for her. She got her visions accidentally because Doyle died (the actor was fired which wasn't the plan), and after this twist, her entire character development is contained in 3 or 4 centric episodes scattered during seasons 1 to 3. But and it's a major but, i'm so satisfied (though i'm probably alone in the fandom) by the way the romance with Angel was written in season 3 and even more in season 4. It's certainly unpopular but the only way she would dated him was if she would have turned evil. It's not a problem of compatibility, it's that she knows him too well, she knows too well the danger he represents and she's too much about protecting herself and surviving to get involved with him despite that knowledge. In BTVS, she flirted with him a lot but only until she realized he was a vampire. Contrary to Buffy, she can recognize a red flag when she sees one and she stopped immediately any form of contact between them after Halloween where she learnt the truth. The time where Angelus tried to kill her in Killed by Death never faded from her memory, no matter how friendly and family they acted with each other on Ats. I don't mean that there isn't attraction on her side: there are clearly repressed feelings the few times she denied having a romance with him, a hint of jealousy too when she advised few girls to not fall for him. In season 3 when she tried to explain why Fred shouldn't have a crush on him, she described him as:

You're handsome. And brave and heroic. Mysterious ... ... emotionally stunted, erratic, prone to turning evil, and let's face it, a eunuch.

It was clearly more than the fear that a mutual attraction between Angel and Fred might lead him to lose his soul that prompted her to pressure him to crush Fred's hope for a romance. Jealousy was eating her when Fred became a part of their life and that stopped them to become friends (though Fred liked her a lot). She was against talking to Fred to make her feel better and was very satisfied to see her leave in Fredless. See too her harsh reaction when Angel praised Fred, calling her soothing. To have sex and a child with Darla didn't cost him his soul only because it was done without feelings. So she had no reason to lift her strict no sex policy ("Angel. He's strictly a no-bone") that she made sure to apply to every girl that tried to get too close. Even when the writers made her a demon with strong powers, who was a match for him in term of strength, she wouldn't take the risk. And though the temptation was real to think of herself as someone as powerful as Buffy and in better capacity than her to protect the world from the return of Angelus, she still went instead for Groo.

I think she wasn't as clueless as she pretended to be about their feelings. She knew Fred was pushing her to date Angel when they went to buy dresses for the ballet, she was very much aware that all Angel's unfinished sentences, his babble meant that he had a hard time to express that he wanted more than her friendship. But after their loss of control in the ballerina's room, the frustation became clearly too much for her. She needed urgently a distraction and Groo had the best timing. She was resisting falling in love with Angel until the very end: that's how i read the strange vision of herself she had in the final episode of season 3, where she had to talk to herself to admit her own feelings. And even after her admission, she didn't choose him when she was faced with the possibility to become a higher being. The writers delayed it as long as they could, but in the end they still wrote the phone call she made to meet Angel and confess her feelings. It's clear she needed to reach this point anyway, in order to make it less a violation when she will get intimate with Angel the season after. I assume here that the plan A was to made them a couple, that the sex with Connor was just plan B because Charisma couldn't do entirely her part because of her pregnancy (she was supposed to play the big bad guy of the season until the end of season 4). Honestly, it was the best way to save her from becoming one more victim of Angel. The guy is cursed for real, doomed actually and was never going to get his redemption because he wasn't working to get one: people were paying him for saving their lives, and he got all obsessed about making his own family as if he deserved one after all the families he destroyed. Finally season 5 proved how comfortable he was in the heart of evil/darkness. Cordelia's life was ruined anyway but only because she was deceived by Jasmine. She died trying to do the right thing, not because he took her to bed, pretended to love her, only to treat her like crap and break her heart before letting her sacrifice her life for him.

[thornstocutyouwith]

Rolling his eyes, Asher could almost growl. It sounded so ignorant, what Darius was saying "She apparently can't do that, there. Darius, no magic, correct? So." He grumbled under his breath "That's just going to make her target you, instead." As Darius spoke on, Asher squint toward the other "Fine." He mutters. Though he still thought it was very silly, all of it. Lying to Sage was what had gotten them all into this mess recently. It was bound to blow up in the other's face if Sage ever got out. Especially with Darla around, now. Asher turns his head away abruptly, taking in a deep breath "You have a daughter, Darius. We have a child. Who is currently in prison because of what we didn't tell her to begin with. I'm going to be honest. I think this plan…isn't going to work. And you're banking on Sage never getting out."

Sage had killed him the first time, to hurt Darius. As if she already knew the big secret all along. But hated it, hated the reality of it. The fact that it shattered her 'family'. Asher shifted, his tail swishing, the Cheshire cat didn't like this one bit. Not at all. But Darius rarely listen to him when he had his mind set on something "I'm not weak!" The cat snapped, then "I could have killed her, but…I didn't imagine she would do this…" Bitterly, he hisses. Half his kingdom was lost to that other cat, BB, just because of that. It angered him that this all happened in his years of absence "I didn't think all this was going to happen. I'm not a fucking child! I don't need to be protected from my own kid. Or handled like I'm glass!" Swiping a hand he hit a vase, sending it crashing to the floor in his anger.

Taking a moment to breath, he adjusted his head, letting the anger work it's way through his system. He shivered and turned back to Darius "You want to do this alone. Then you do that. But you're not going to do it because you're afraid of what may happen to me. You're going to do it. To help our daughter come to terms with who you actually are, to her." Pointing, he pulls away a little "That's why you will do this alone. Don't use me as your scapegoat, for excluding me from this trial of yours. Understand?" Asher explained.

Listening to Darius as the other was talking, he narrowed his eyes "She's not going to kill you Darius. You're what she wants. But you don't look like who she wants." Asher informed "She wants her mother." Of course, it would be insane to ask Darius be that, and Asher wouldn't want that either. But Sage was a brat, and she wasn't exactly sane. It was what she wanted, and she just never had to deal with accepting not getting that. Staring at the other man, he sighed "Neither of you are going to die…Don't be dramatic…" Besides, there was certainly some way to bring them back. At least, as long as Sage was alive. As she had abilities in resurrection. Something Darius didn't know about her, it appeared. Asher had experienced it plenty of times while Sage was growing up, and becoming demented.

Asher glances away, trying not to think of those times, and kept quiet about them, even with Darius. Sage probably could not be saved, ultimately. But he knew what she wanted "Ah. Well, without death, there's not risk. So probably, we shouldn't rely so entirely on such things. Makes the story a little less fun if no one is hurt, or dies." Asher teased before letting out a breath "But go on then, have your chat with her. You're the key." And he was the lock. A symbolism of their relationship as a whole.

==

"Because, Asher, I don't want her taking you away from me again."

And there it was. The real reason why Darius was still lying to Sage.

"You need to understand, and perhaps I haven't told you enough, Asher. YOU are the most important person to me. Without you, my existence is meaningless. Not even Darla will ever matter to me as much as you do and if Sage thinks you are still dead - then let's keep it that way, alright?"

Yes, Darius was all the things that Asher was thinking to himself. The thing was, out of everyone that Darius had ever known in this life, Asher was the only person that ever truly mattered to him. Even more than himself, his own daughter, and his own sister.

A sigh left Darius's lips when he realized he knew there was a very high possibility that Sage would try and kill him, and kill him indeed if she got the chance. With that thought, Darius had closed the distance between himself and Asher, his slender digits reaching for the nape of Asher's neck as he rested his forehead against his.

"Listen. In the very unlikely situation that Sage manages to escape and does indeed succeed in killing me, seek out the Dormouse. Call in a favor from Shay, Sean, or even Alexander if you need but I'm pretty certain Darla has enough power in her to handle Sage. Regardless. Seek out Layla. Have that Dormouse exchange Sage's life for my own. If she really does kill me, Asher, if Darla's influence can't make her change her mind, she does not get another chance --"

To say the least, Darius was hoping Darla could help her. "Besides, I've come back from the dead before, I'm most certain I can do it again."

[espieviolet99]

Kozzy Fic

See, I’ve amended my posts to say ‘Fics’ because I write far too much for them to be drabbles XD

Anywho, y’all know ya girl is a bit of a Kozzy girl.

Just a bit. So;

Darla was in the gym, as per usual when she had some spare time at the clubhouse. Only this time, instead of weights or yoga stuff, she was practicing with the punch bag. Upon his arrival to Charming to now, Kozik had heard many a story of Darla’s prowess in a fight, but had never actually seen her in one himself. Which, was not entirely bad - for he didn’t really want her to have to be in such a situation.

Anywho, much like when he caught her lifting, he was on his way through the clubhouse when he caught sight of Darla in the gym again. He mimicked his stance the last time he did this, and watched as she punched and kicked the bag. However, he could not for long because her form was kind of shit.

“You might want to adjust your stance a bit, baby. If you want to get better.” He called out to her. She stopped, turning to almost glare at him. “How long you been standing there, stud?” She smirked. He grinned as he went to reply. “Long enough to finally notice your form.” “Got bored of my ass?” “Oh, no. Never.” “Animal.” “You want some help?” He asked, walking over to her. “I suppose. Most of the issue is due to my back, though. Remember.” “Your back looks fine to me.” He murmured, rubbing a hand up it and kissing the back of her neck. “Kozzy!” “I know, baby, I know. It is actually looking a lot better, though.” “Ah, sweet!” “So, want me to help?” “Sure.”

Except, help became teasing. Started off well enough, as Kozik did start seriously coaching her. Directing her hips into position, nudging her feet and helping her form her fist better and how to make sure the impact wasn’t isolated to one knuckle.

It was going well until he heard her sharp intakes of breath every time he touched her, whispered in her ear and pressed himself to her. He took a step back, letting her continue on her own for a while, until he watched her lose her stance due to her discomfort as part of her spinal issue.

“Baby, you need to keep your form, otherwise you run the risk of injuring yourself.” He told her. She rolled her eyes. “It’s hard when your body is trying to adjust and align itself differently.” She groaned. He wanted to be irritated, but knew this was her sexual frustration due to his previous ministrations. “Wanna take it to the ring?”

Turns out, that was a big mistake. Because, not only did she have some impressive moves - almost Black Widow tier at times, but they were out in the ring outside. Which meant all the Sons were watching. And they were watching her. 

Then, whilst he was briefly distracted at the way Juice, Jax and Chibs were leering at her, she dropped, spun and swept his legs out from under him and pinned his arms down under her legs. Tig cheered louder than everyone else.

“Yeah, well done, sweetheart! Kick his ass!” Tig all but screamed in delight.

She winked at Kozik as she stood, hopping out of the ring and making a beeline for his dorm room and shower. Tig was about to mock Kozik for his defeat at the hands of a Trager when he caught sight of his expression and the way he then chased after her.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Tig exclaimed, which alerted Darla to the blonde man’s charge.

She giggled and ran off inside, and the two disappeared within the clubhouse and left the other sons to cheer and whistle, and to then look over at Tig who looked truly pained.

“I’m done. That’s it. I’m out.” He threw his arms up in the air.” Burn that thing. Burn the clubhouse. And then shoot me.” “He makes her very happy, Tig.” Chibs smirked at him. “Please shoot me.” 

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Together

A Stitched Story (END)

JSE Fanfic

Man...this is it. The last one. That’s...wow. This was an AU three years in the writing, and with this, it’s over. I just...wow. I’m gonna need to just think about that for a second. Maybe wait a bit before starting something new. Anyway, this is basically wrapping everything up, taking care of all the final plot points and loose ends. There are emotional moments, including one big one, but...wow. I just have to keep saying that over and over again, it’s all I feel. The boys are settling down. Finally. Man, they’ve earned it. 

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read the whole story: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two | Torn Apart | Tales to Tell | Threads | Twice Bitten, Never Shy | Two of Souls | The Tower | Time to End

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty @ari-trash

It was surprisingly sunny, for an autumn day. Busy, too. Cars rushed through the streets, and pedestrians populated the pavement. Jameson shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare as he peered around a street corner and saw their destination. We’re almost there. One more block, he said, tapping the message out in Morse code on a nearby lamppost.

“Good, I hope we are not late,” Schneep replied. “What time is it?”

JJ checked the clock on his phone. 1:25. Do you think it’s already over?

“Possibly. In any case, it would be better to be early.” Schneep turned the corner, speeding up, running his cane over the sidewalk to check for cracks. JJ hurried to catch up. “Chase would be upset if we are not there.”

He’ll be fine, JJ said reassuringly, now tapping the message on Schneep’s arm. But I suppose we can make haste.

The two of them soon arrived at their destination, turning into the hospital parking lot and walking towards the building’s front entrance. “Oh! I think he is here, yes?” Schneep said.

Yes, I can see him. JJ waved. Chase was standing outside the glass doors, bouncing on his feet and scanning the area. He had his usual bandanna and cap, but was wearing a new sweater, one that the others had given him as a group birthday present to make up for missing it a few months ago, and an old backpack Stacy had lent him. Once he saw JJ waving he smiled, and waved back.

“Ha! Knew it. I am getting good at this,” Schneep said proudly. “If only sensing souls could help with telling apart the toothpaste and burn cream.”

JJ laughed, muffled as usual, and the two of them hurried across the parking lot. Chase ran up to meet them at the edge of the sidewalk. “Hey guys!” he said. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” Schneep said lightheartedly. “Well, well? Did everything go fine?”

“Oh, uh, mostly.” Chase rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. He wasn’t wearing his wristbands. Instead, there were white bandages. “She managed to get the ones on my wrists off, but said she didn’t want to risk messing with the one on my neck. It’s close to an artery or something? I don’t know, it was some complicated medical stuff.”

“Ah. That is too bad,” Schneep said sadly. Jameson shook his head sympathetically. “But it is glad to hear some of the stitches are gone. I told you that Darla was good. Trustworthy, too. She will not tell anyone.”

“If you say so, doc.” Pulling his sleeves down, Chase turned to JJ. “Are you sure you don’t want to try? I mean, it’s a lot more inconvenient for you than it is for me.”

JJ hesitated, then nodded. I am fine, he signed. I’ve gotten used to it, and yes, there are many downsides, but considering what happened last week, I think it is good enough.

“Man. If you’re really sure,” Chase said reluctantly. “They’re already a bit looser, right? Maybe whatever magic’s making them hard to cut through will fade over time.”

“Wait, Jameson, did you bring up last week?” Schneep whacked JJ’s legs with his cane. “I said that you should not try yourself! Things could go wrong!” He paused. “But everything is fine, right?”

Yes, it was a shallow cut, JJ said. Your scissors are pretty sharp.

“I know. They are not normal, and I am starting to think they were always supposed to be weapons.” Schneep sighed. “Well, I am putting them away soon.”

JJ and Chase exchanged a significant look. “You’re gonna put them away?” Chase repeated.

Schneep nodded. “If I need them again, it won’t be hard to pull them out.”

In the month since they’d finally gotten rid of the strings, Schneep had kept carrying the scissors around. Just in case, he’d said. Just in case those glowing green strands of black magic managed to worm their way back into the world. But the past month had been quiet. Busy in other ways, but nothing had appeared to attack any of them. So maybe ‘just in case’ wasn’t going to come. Maybe it would be fine to leave them at home. Or, well, in whatever pocket dimension they came from.

“If you’re sure, doc,” Chase said. “A-anyway, it’s a bit past 1:30. We should hurry, or we’ll be late to meet up with the others. You guys walked here? C’mon, there’s a bus stop across the street.”

We’d definitely be on time if you drove us, JJ said teasingly.

“Hey, I can’t be blamed for not having a car.”

Ask Stacy.

“Nah, it’s fine. I should practice a bit before I do any serious driving, anyway. It’s been a while.”

“You took the bus here?” Schneep asked, puzzled. “But what about people sitting next to you?”

“It’s okay, I just put the backpack next to me. And it’s alright if it’s you guys.” Chase stepped off the sidewalk curb and onto the parking lot asphalt. “Now let’s go.”

The bus ride was short, and soon the three of them were getting off at a stop outside a small restaurant—or, more of a cafe, really. Despite being near lunchtime, the place was almost empty when they walked in. Soft piano music was playing over a speaker system, and a chalk signboard near the front entrance read “Please Seat Yourselves” with a hand-drawn smiley face. Chase read the sign out loud, and the three of them spotted the rest of the group, sitting at a table in the corner of the dining area, right by a window.

Jack had looked up at the sound of the bell chiming when the door opened. “Hey, they’re here,” he said to the other two sitting at the table.

“Huh? Oh, good.” Jackie was turning the menu over and over, listening to the sound of the laminated paper against the air. Marvin didn’t say anything. His head was leaning against the glass of the window, eyes closed, a pair of earbuds blocking out most sound. But he did make a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Hey guys.” Chase arrived first, taking the chair across from Marvin, next to the wall. Schneep and JJ took the next two. “Did you already order?”

“No, I told the waiter that we were waiting for people,” Jack explained. “But, more importantly, how’d it go? Are they gone?”

“Wrists are.” Chase once again pulled back his sleeves. For a moment, Jackie glanced at the bandages on his wrists, then bit his lip and looked away. “Apparently the neck stitches are too close to an artery or something. She didn’t want to mess with it.”

“Shit. Well, two out of three’s not bad,” Jack said.

“Jack, my friend, how are the repairs going?” Schneep asked.

“Pretty good, I think. The walls just got repainted, and the living room has new chairs and stuff. Still a long way to go.” Jack laughed. “Honestly I’m just glad that the water and Internet didn’t go out.”

Are the police still talking to you? JJ asked.

“No, not really. You guys?”

The other three all shook their heads. Dealing with the police had been...complicated. They had to, of course. They couldn’t just go back to their old lives without people asking “what the hell happened to you?!”JJ had it the easiest, in a way. Nobody had reported him missing, which was a bit sad when he thought about it, and all the regular patrons of his shop had assumed it closed down. Jack and Chase had more difficulty, since they were pretty public figures. The moment Jack had uploaded a video explaining he was back, the Internet had gone up in flames wondering where he’d been.

In the end, they all decided on the same story. It was pretty lame, as Chase often said, but it worked. They all just lied and said they didn’t remember anything. Weird stitches on Chase’s wrists and neck? Nope. Scars all over Jack’s body? Don’t know what happened there. Schneep losing an entire sense and gaining weird scars that looked like tears dripping from his eyes? No idea, officer. The police had prodded them, but eventually given up, essentially leaving the case unsolved and concluding it was a strange psychological phenomenon. The case would go down in history, but nobody would know the truth.

Of course, when it came to Marvin and Jackie coming back to life, things were going to be a bit difficult. Fortunately, they had magic on their side.

“Have any of you heard from Yvonne?” Jack asked, sliding each of them a menu.

“Dude, why would she talk to me? I’m the least magical person here,” Chase said.

Not since she offered to help, JJ added.

Schneep merely shook his head and picked up the menu. “Oh! They actually have—”

“Yeah, I explained the situation when the waiter came over and he gave me a Braille copy,” Jack explained. “Anyway, she called me the other day. Says that the records should be all fixed now.”

“I still say that can’t be legal,” Chase muttered.

“It’s not.” Everyone jumped, a bit surprised to hear Marvin talk. He didn’t move from his position against the window or open his eyes, but he did continue. “She’s not really into stuff being legal, you know. Normal laws or magic laws. Always thought they got in the way, that...that...her. That...name.”

“Yvonne.” Jackie gently bumped Marvin’s shoulder with his own.

“Right.”

Jack gave the others a meaningful look. Memory issues. One of the lingering side effects Marvin and Jackie were dealing with. They could forget something in seconds. Jackie had taken to writing things down, if not with an actual pen and paper, then by finger-spelling it on his hand over and over. Marvin just sort of let it happen, only writing down the really important stuff. “Anyway, it’s all fixed,” Jack continued, looking back over at the other two. “You guys can...y’know, start doing stuff again. When you want. Move out, if you feel like it.”

“Thanks,” Jackie said. He sounded oddly reluctant. Marvin didn’t even bother to answer.

Chase cleared his throat. “Speaking of moving out, Schneep, did you get your apartment back yet?”

Schneep scowled. “I am so close. The stupid building owner is still insisting on keeping it all preserved, and I say, ‘for what?!’ You are clearly not going to sell it, if everything is still how it is when I was living there. So just let me live in! The police do not care anymore, anyway, so there is no crime scene!”

He probably liked the idea of having a flat where someone who disappeared lived, JJ suggested. It lends a bit of mystery and gives the building a reputation. People might want to move in because of that.

“Well he will still have it! I will just be actually there!” Schneep folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. “Ugh. Jamie, I like you, but your guest room is tiny.”

JJ gave a huff of a laugh. Sorry, Hen. I’d never really needed one before so I didn’t hear any complaints. 

“Oh, Chase, what about you? How’s the house search coming?” Jack asked.

“Fine.” Chase shrugged. “I got a few to look at. Y’know Stacy doesn’t seem to mind me staying over. I was surprised, given how she, um...wanted to move out so much a few years ago.”

“Well, things change,” Jack said cheerfully.

“Yeah. I guess that’s an upside of this, we’re, like...friends.” Chase said the word in a tone of bewildered, but welcomed, happiness. The way someone would react to hearing good news that they’d thought was no longer an option. “Again, I mean. A-and I don’t think it’s gonna go further, but...still.”

“That’s great, my friend.” Schneep patted the back of Chase’s hand.

“Yeah, that’s great!” Jackie repeated, suddenly enthusiastic. “So, like, we should order food, right?”

“Oh right.” Jack nodded. “Hang on.” He stood up, looking towards the back of the restaurant where the door to the kitchen was. A waiter was walking out at that moment, and caught sight of the group, quickly indicating he’d be right there. “Oh, nice. I was confused, really, if like this was the type of place where people would come over or if we had to go up there.” Jack sat back down and picked up the menu. “We should go all out. This is a celebration.”

I think I can get a drink, JJ signed slowly.

“Really?” Jack asked, surprised.

Yes, I think the stitches have loosened up enough for that, JJ said more confidently. A small straw or a bit of liquid. Just so long as nobody’s looking when I take off my mask.

“Awesome, man,” Chase said cheerfully. “Honestly, this place looked good on the website. We should get a lot.”

“Celebration,” Schneep repeated, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful. Celebration lunch.”

And for most of them, it was just that, wonderful. They were meeting up again, the last of their troubles were ending. Things were looking up.

But a corner of the table was a bit gloomier. Jackie and Marvin were pretty quiet all throughout the lunch. Neither of them ate that much. Marvin kept his eyes closed or looking down at his plate, and Jackie paid more attention to the salt and pepper shakers than anything else. Once the lunch was over and after everyone said their goodbyes, they followed Jack back to his apartment, where they were staying, and drifted off to separate activities. A book for Marvin, an old laptop for Jackie.

They never once said anything to each other.

— — — — — — —

Ignisa: a spell to conjure fire.

Marvin read the simple command word over and over, repeating it mentally. Ignisa. Ignisa. It was one of the simplest spells out there, and one of the first ones he learned. He could visualize the page of the book he read it in. He remembered it. Really, he did. Most of the time. For the occasions that he didn’t he’d written down the command and what it did on a spare bit of paper.

“Ignisa,” he whispered, staring down at his hands, cupped as if to hold water. He sat in the center of the floor in the spare bedroom, as far away from furniture as possible. “Ignisa. Ig-NI-sa. IG-ni-sa. Ig-ni-SA.” Yet, no matter how many times he repeated it, no matter how he pronounced it or how loud he spoke it, no matter how much he concentrated on the feeling of fire bursting forth in his hands...there wasn’t even a spark.

“Fuck.” Marvin gave up, burying his face in his hands. He squeezed his eyes to contain tears of frustration, but he still let one or two sobs slip out. Why couldn’t he do anything? No fire, no lights, no telekinesis. All the magic he remembered was useless. The only spell that sort of worked was teleportation, in fact he actually found it easier now than it used to be, but he couldn’t quite control it. If he was lucky, he’d end up close to where he wanted to be, and if he was unlucky, he teleported to the middle of the sky twenty miles away. That...hadn’t been a fun evening.

There were only a few spells that worked perfectly for him. Taking a few deep breaths, Marvin lifted his head up, and pressed his hands close together, palm to palm. Slowly, he pulled them away from each other. In the space between them were blue glowing threads of magic, which got longer the farther apart his hands got. If he wanted, he could use these strings like a weapon, grabbing things, pinning them to the wall, and maybe with practice he could use them to swing, like some sort of discount magical Spider-Man. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want anything to do with these. Scowling, Marvin brushed his hands together, and the strings disappeared.

Someone knocked on the door, and Marvin yelped in surprise. He quickly got to his feet. “Wh-who is it?”

“It’s Jack,” a voice said. “Can I come in?”

“Um...sure.”

Jack opened the door, poking his head in through the gap. “Hey Jackie’s making noodles for dinner. Do you want any?”

Did he? Marvin wasn’t really hungry. He didn’t really feel hungry that often anymore. Or maybe he did, and just couldn’t recognize the feeling. Jackie was the same way, but that didn’t stop him from trying to eat. After a bit, Marvin decided it would probably be better safe than sorry. “...Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him.” Jack hesitated. “Do you...want anything? Need anything?”

Marvin hesitated. He glanced over at Jack before looking away. Wait, why was one of Jack’s eyes a slightly different shade of blue? When had that—oh. Right. “No.”

“Alright...if you’re sure,” Jack said reluctantly. “Come out whenever you’re ready.” And with that, he left.

Just in time, too. Marvin backed up until his legs hit the edge of the bed. Immediately, he fell back onto the mattress, pressing his hands against his eyes. “Stop thinking about it,” he said to himself. “Stop thinking about it, stop it, stop.” That only seemed to make it worse. Images flashed in his head, leftover memories that weren’t his, but also were, and were also Jackie’s and someone else’s. The others called him Anti. Anti’s memories. They would pop up whenever something triggered them, and that ‘something’ was usually one of the others. Right now, the memories were about Jack, about what happened to his eye. Marvin could hear himself—no, Anti—laughing.

Shaking, Marvin slowly stood up again, staggering across the room to the door. Why was it that sometimes, his balance just didn’t work? Why was he so clumsy now? He grabbed the doorknob but didn’t open it, just pressing his forehead into the wood. These were the consequences for his actions. The memories, the problems with his magic, the lack of balance. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t gotten into his head that trying the transference spell would be fine, that not telling Jackie wouldn’t cause any problems...It hadn’t even been about helping people, like how Jackie probably wanted to, he just wanted to see if he could do it, to see if he could increase his power. And he caused everything. So this was his punishment. Served him right.

— — — — — — —

“Marvin says he wants dinner,” Jack said, leaning into the kitchen/dining room.

“Okay,” Jackie said cheerfully, grabbing another bowl from the cabinet. It was easy, since that particular cabinet was missing its door. It would probably stay that way for a while, too, since with all the other repairs the apartment required it wasn’t a high enough priority. Jackie set the bowl on the counter next to two others, then looked over at the pot of water. It wasn’t steaming or boiling. Did he forget to turn the heat on? He tapped the edge of the burner under the pot.

“Jackie!” Jack gasped.

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s not on,” Jackie assured him. “I was just checking.”

“You mean you didn’t know if it was on?!”

“It probably wasn’t.” Jackie looked up to see the dial hadn’t been turned. Oh. He probably could have looked at the dial before touching the burner. Well, whatever. He reached over and turned the dial to the 7 mark.

“Please be careful,” Jack said, looking nervous. “You could get hurt.”

“I am being careful,” Jackie said. It didn’t really matter, anyway. He was having trouble feeling pain lately. Or...most things, actually. It was weird, he was a bit numb. Not by too much, but enough to be noticeable, to know that he hadn’t been like that before. Marvin was just the opposite, nowadays he was constantly being overwhelmed with the texture and feel of things. But he was always more sensitive to sensations than the rest of them.

“Well, be even more careful,” Jack insisted. He backed out of the kitchen. “I’m gonna, uh, hang out in the living room. Tell me if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Jackie nodded. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Alright.” Jack hesitated for a second before turning away and leaving.

Everything was fine. Jack really didn’t need to worry, Jackie had everything covered. Making food was easy, really. It was something that he did all the time. The process was automatic, especially for making pasta. Just wait for a bit, occasionally stirring, then drain the water. It was all good. This was a normal thing that normal people did. Things were normal.

Of course, Jackie knew that every single thing he’d just thought to himself was a lie. But it was easier to pretend. Sometimes he pretended so hard that it felt like he was watching a movie filmed in the first-person, instead of actually existing in this body.

Oh, it was happening now, actually. Jackie watched as his hand pulled open the cutlery drawer and took out a long spoon. Then the hand started stirring the pasta in the pot. It was starting to get hot now. There was steam. How hot was it? The other hand reached forward and—

“Shit!” Jackie snapped back to reality, pulling his hand away from the side of the metal pot. “Ah. Fuck.” He looked down. The skin of his fingers was a bit red and tender. He opened and closed his fist a few times to help the leftover burning feeling fade away.

“Is everything okay?” Jack was back, apparently having heard Jackie shout. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just brushed against the side,” Jackie explained.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Well...okay, then.” Jack reluctantly backed out of view.

Everything was fine. Oh look, the pasta was suddenly done. Time had just flown past. Jackie poured the pasta into the strainer and then scooped it into the bowls. Marvin showed up, and then Jack, and they all ate in silence, after which Jack excused himself to go back to his recording room to do some editing. The moment he’d replaced all the broken computer parts, he’d gone back to making videos, though not nearly as frequently as before. That was...nice. Nice that he could do that.

Jackie wondered what he was supposed to do now. Not just for the rest of the day, but...for the rest of ever. He wanted things to be fine, to be normal, and he was pretty good at pretending they were. But they. Just. Weren’t. He couldn’t find the energy to start looking for a job, or for a new apartment, or even for new clothes. But at the same time, he didn’t want to keep borrowing from Jack. He didn’t want to just stay in place, but he couldn’t move forward.

At one point, he’d thought about going back out onto the streets. He didn’t know what happened to his old super suit, but he could make a new one. Then that train of thought had immediately crashed to a halt with a flash of memory. Not his, but also his. Anti’s. A memory with so much pain in it, and feeling glad at that pain. Somehow triumphantly vindicated to see suffering. No. Someone like that couldn’t be a hero.

So things continued. The same things. Every day.

Everything was fine.

— — — — — — —

Time passed. Autumn progressed, and it became cooler as September blended into October. Jack kept fixing up the apartment, and it was beginning to look good as new. Schneep finally convinced the building owner to let him back into his place, and so he moved out of JJ’s building. Chase was still having trouble finding a house, but he was glad to spend more time with Lily and Moira, absolutely doting on the two of them. Business at JJ’s shop started to pick up again, though he had to get used to carrying around a notepad since most customers didn’t know sign language.

Jackie and Marvin stayed where they were.

One night, a storm rolled over the city. Rain pounded the ground, thunder rumbled in the distance, and nobody went out of their houses. That night, Marvin went into the apartment’s bathroom and pressed his face against the small window to watch the storm. There wasn’t much to see. The glass was cloudy for privacy. But there was water running down the other side, droplets racing each other to the bottom.

Then there was a flash, and a fork of lightning split the window in half. A second later came the thunder. Marvin heard someone gasp, and jumped, spinning around to see Jackie standing in the open bathroom doorway. “Oh. Sorry,” Jackie muttered. “I just saw the lights on in here and—nevermind.”

Marvin just looked at him for a bit, then turned back to the window. Jackie stood there for a moment, then started to turn away.

“Jackie?”

He stopped at the sound of Marvin’s quiet voice. “Yeah?”

“Are we...bad people?”

Jackie didn’t answer, and that was an answer on its own.

“Should we...be here?”

“What do you mean?” Jackie asked.

Marvin started pulling at his fingers. “Just...what if something...happens?”

Jackie paled. “I-it’ll be okay. It’s all okay.”

“Okay.”

Neither of them moved. Then, quietly, Jackie admitted something. “I don’t want to be here.”

“You don’t?” Marvin finally turned around.

“I don’t think I should,” Jackie whispered. “Just...everyone is nice to us. But we...hurt them. Or, kind of us. I mean, he was still us, right?”

Marvin nodded. “I remember doing it.”

“Me too.”

“He can’t come back, though. Right?”

“I mean...no,” Jackie said slowly. “But what if we...what if something happens?” He echoed Marvin’s own words back at him.

Marvin was silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be here, either.”

“Should we leave?”

“What would we do?”

“I don’t know.” Jackie glanced down the hall, towards Jack’s bedroom. “But they’re...good people. And we’re.... We don’t...” He trailed off.

Another crack of thunder.

“Should we leave a note?” Marvin asked.

“No. They can figure it out. Should we stay together?”

“Maybe at first.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, the power in the apartment building went out. Jack left his bedroom, holding a flashlight. “Hey guys? The storm knocked the lights out. You okay?”

No answer. Not surprising, Jackie and Marvin could be pretty quiet. So Jack went to look for them.

But...they weren’t there. Not in the spare bedroom, not in the bathroom, not in the kitchen, not in the living room. “Guys?” he called, voice rising in worry. “Guys?!”

Still no answer. Swearing under his breath, Jack went back to his bedroom and picked up his phone from where he’d left it. He opened up the group chat and sent a message.

Jackie and Marvin are gone. I think they’ve left.

— — — — — — —

It was still storming when they got off the bus to look around. With the rain pouring down, it was hard to make out details of anything. There were the vague, tall shapes of buildings, the long stretches of clear roads and sidewalks...but everything else was a bit cloudy. “We should’ve brought an umbrella,” Marvin said, trying to shield himself from the rain by covering his head with his arms. It didn’t work.

“I didn’t think he had one,” Jackie said, peering through the falling water. “Do you want my jacket?”

“No, I’m fine.” Marvin shivered.

“I...okay, if you’re sure you’re alright,” Jackie said reluctantly. “Here, there’s a street sign over on that corner.” He walked up to the sign, Marvin trailing after him. “Uh...Everwood Lane. I...I don’t remember where that is. Do you?”

“No,” Marvin admitted. They hadn’t really had much of a plan, had they? Just up and left, trusting they’d figure it out in the moment. Saw a bus stopping at a nearby station, and hopped aboard, pretending to swipe bus passes so the driver, who wasn’t really paying any attention, wouldn’t notice. Then they’d gotten off at random, once they realized they’d been sitting in the bus for a while and they had to be far away by then. Why had they thought any of that would be a good idea? Why had he just gone along with it? 

“Well, uh. Let’s get inside.” Jackie pressed on, now walking up to the entrance of the nearest building. “Maybe we can ask someone in there, and it’ll be dry.” See? This would work out.

Luckily, that building turned out to be open, and they stepped into a front hall. It looked nice, but was completely empty. The only things of note were the pair of elevators, the door labelled ‘Stairwell,’ another unlabelled door, and a directory on a sign attached to the wall.

“No one’s here,” Marvin muttered.

“Someone has to be here, everything’s on.” Jackie scanned the directory. The building was nine floors tall, plus the ground floor, and every floor was listed as belonging to some business, each with operating hours attached. “Uh...what time is it?”

“...I don’t remember,” Marvin said. “And there’s no clock here. And we don’t have phones.”

“It’s fine, we’ll—we’ll just check around,” Jackie said optimistically. He walked over to the unmarked door and grabbed the handle, starting to push it open. Only to stop short when the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. Okay. That was fine. There were more options. Jackie turned around. “C’mon, we’ll take the lifts.”

“Mm-hmm.” Marvin nodded, following him to the elevators.

The elevator arrived, doors sliding open, and the two of them stepped in. “Right, we’ll just start with the first floor,” Jackie said, pressing the button. He waited for a few seconds, but the elevator wasn’t moving. The button hadn’t lit up. “Um...” He pressed it again. Then a couple more times. Then he tried the other buttons, pushing them hard.

“There’s a card reader attached,” Marvin pointed out, nodding towards a black box mounted on the elevator’s panel. “I don’t think it’ll work without the right card.”

“Oh.” Jackie was momentarily at a loss, but then he recovered. They just had to keep moving. That’s all. “I guess we’ll take the stairs, then.”

The stairwell was tall, white, and empty, metal stairs spiralling upwards with only a railing keeping the people walking up and down from falling off. Jackie led the way, climbing up the stairs quickly with Marvin a bit behind. But there was no luck. All the doors that led into the floors were blocked by the same card readers as in the elevators. Just in case, Jackie still tried to open them, both pushing and pulling, but to no avail. So they just kept climbing, stopping at every story so Jackie could try the doors with increasing desperation, while Marvin watched him with increasing annoyance.

Until finally, they reached the last door, this one labelled ‘Roof Access.’ Surprisingly, this one didn’t have a card reader. Jackie hesitated, then pushed it open, letting in a spray of rain from the storm outside. 

“Okay, this was useless,” Marvin said. “Let’s—”

“Well, maybe there’s someone outside,” Jackie suggested.

“In the rain?”

But Jackie was already heading out, pulling on his hood as he stepped into the storm.

Of course there wasn’t anyone there. Disregarding the misery of the weather, it was hard to see anything, including the railing that marked the edge of the roof. It would be dangerous to be up there. But Jackie still walked forward, looking around, until he eventually found that railing along the edge, grabbing the rain-slicked metal to orient himself.

“No one’s here!” Marvin shouted over a clap of thunder. He’d followed Jackie out onto the roof and was now standing about an arm’s length behind him, looking extremely unhappy about the whole situation. “Let’s go!”

“Right.” Jackie nodded. “We’ll just—just try another building, and ask where we are.”

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll—we’ll get a hotel.”

“How will we pay for it?”

“Uh...okay, not a hotel. We’ll...find our way to someone’s house, o-or something, and ask if we can stay.”

“What if no one lets us in?”

“We’ll—we’ll find an empty building.” Jackie grasped desperately at a way to salvage this situation, a way that wouldn’t involve them going back. He wasn’t even sure he could find his way back; he’d forgotten Jack’s address somewhere on the way. “Yeah. And then we’ll go to sleep, and in the morning, figure out a better plan. Yeah! It’s fine. Everything will be fi—”

“Everything will not be fucking fine, Jackie!” Marvin suddenly burst out. “This was a terrible idea! Why did we think to do this?! Why did I go along with it?! It’s raining, there’s lightning, we’re lost, my clothes are wet which I hate more than murder, and you’re being delusional!”

“I—I am being optimistic!” Jackie spluttered, letting go of the railing so he could face Marvin head-on. “I am trying to make the best of a difficult situation—”

“We shouldn’t even be out here!” Marvin interrupted. Another crack of thunder rang throughout the sky, even louder than before. “You suggested this! Why’d you suggest it?”

“Well, why did you ask if we should’ve been staying with the others if you weren’t prepared to leave?” Jackie countered. “You didn’t have to come with me! You didn’t have to go out at all!”

“Oh yeah, what was I going to do, tell Jack and the others, ‘sorry, I don’t know where they went, they said they were leaving and I thought that was alright’? No!”

“You could’ve convinced me to stay!” Jackie shouted. “You could’ve shot it down when I said it! But you went along, so you must have wanted to leave, too!”

“I—yeah, but it was more of a vague thing!” Marvin protested. “A what-if! I didn’t expect us to go right then!”

Jackie grabbed Marvin by the shirt. “Then why did you leave?! Why did we leave?! Why did we want to leave?!”

The sky lit up a brilliant white, electricity crashing. A bolt of lightning had hit a lightning rod attached to the building’s roof, only a room’s width away from the two of them. Sparks flew. Marvin screamed. Jackie instinctively covered him, hugging him tight to his chest and bending over. The sound was deafening, thunder right next to their heads, and even after it faded their ears echoed with the remains of it.

“Holy shit!” Jackie gasped, blinking the brilliant light from his eyes. His eyes...which were now glowing. The left was bright green, the right an equally bright red. Marvin’s were also glowing, though his right eye was the green one, and the other one was blue. “That was—oh my god. Marvin, are you okay?”

Marvin didn’t answer for a moment. He just stared at the lightning rod, still faintly glowing from being struck. And then...he let out a quiet sob.

“M...Marvin?” Jackie took a closer look at him, and realized his face wasn’t just wet from the rain. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s fucking not,” Marvin cried. “All I could think about while we were walking up those stairs—all I could think about were the memories, the—you know the ones, the—I wasn’t even there, I was somewhere else. I hate this. I hate this! I hate what’s happened to me! I hate that it’s my fault!”

“Your fault?!” Jackie repeated.

“My stupid fucking selfish spell,” Marvin sobbed. “It’s all because of that! Everything happened because of that! Of course I should’ve realized, if the things I did after the spell were—were like that, then of course! Of course I’m a horrible fucking person that wouldn’t care about what that spell might do!”

“Marvin—”

“And you’re just going around acting like everything is alright!” Marvin said, jabbing a finger into Jackie’s chest. “You just like—like nothing happened, you keep saying everything is fine, it might be for you, but it’s not for me! No it’s fine, it doesn’t matter!”

“I just want everything to move on, Marvin!” Jackie said, grasping Marvin’s upper arms and pulling him close. “Everything has to be fine, but it’s not, so I have to pretend it is! Because if I stop pretending, all I can think about is what I’ve done. Every time I look at the others, I remember how I hurt them! Every time I look at you, I remember how I killed you!”

Silence, and the sound of rain.

“I didn’t...didn’t know you felt that way,” Marvin said, barely audible.

“I didn’t know you did, either,” Jackie whispered.

“That’s ironic, isn’t it?” Marvin commented dully. “Aren’t we connected now? Aren’t our souls all...mixed up with each other?”

“Yeah...” Jackie nodded. “Yeah.”

The two of them stared at each other. Eyes wide, hearts pounding, breathing heavy. Letting themselves be rained on. Until—

The door to the rooftop burst open, and a couple flashlight beams fell onto the two of them.

“Marv!”

“Jackie!”

“My friends!”

It was the others. All of them. Chase was in front with Jack close behind, then Schneep in the back holding onto Jameson’s arm for extra support. “Are you two okay?!” Chase asked.

“What happened?!” Jack added.

Is everything alright? JJ signed.

“Why did you go?” Schneep said.

Jackie took a step backwards, letting go of Marvin, who was too in shock to even notice. “You guys...h-how’d you find us?”

“JJ did,” Chase explained.

Luckily the tracking spell still works, JJ said. How did you two even get here? It’s the other side of town!

“I...we took the bus,” Jackie said numbly. “How—why are you here?”

“We came to find you, of course!” Schneep said, as if it was obvious.

“Why?” Marvin asked quietly.

“What?! Because you’re our friends!” Chase said, gaping. “If you leave to go out with no note, no anything, in the middle of a thunderstorm—” Thunder rumbled in the distance as if to prove his point. “—and without any way for anyone to contact you, anything could have happened! We were so fucking worried!”

“...why?” Marvin repeated.

“You’re our friends,” Jack reiterated. “We care about you. What if you got hurt? That would be—fuck. I-I don’t even want to think about it.”

Jackie felt tears in his eyes, and he let them slip out, hidden by the rain. “But—but it was going to be better this way.”

“Better? Better?!” Schneep repeated incredulously. “No no no no no no, we went through so much to see you again. You cannot just disappear! And less expect us to be fine with it!”

“But...w-we—I—I hurt you!” Jackie blurted out. “So much! I mean, look at yourselves! You still have the scars!”

“That wasn’t you,” Chase said gently, slowly approaching. “That was Anti.”

“Well, Anti was us.”

“Anti was two parts you guys and, like, seventeen parts black magic,” Chase said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It feels like it,” Marvin muttered. “You’d say the same if you remembered doing it.”

“What if something happens?” Jackie said, his voice hushed. “What if we...while we’re around you guys, what if we...hurt you? Th-there’s a possibility, right? As long as we’re around.”

Jack’s next question was soft, almost unheard through the rain. “You don’t want to hurt anyone, right?”

“No!” Jackie said, aghast. Marvin shook his head furiously.

“Then you won’t,” Jack said firmly. “I mean, sure, there will be accidents. But you can’t run from everyone because you’re afraid you might hurt them. A life like that would be so lonely. We trust you. Both of you. And you trust us. That’s what friendship’s built on, isn’t it? Trust.”

Jackie fell silent. The four of them stood firm, agreeing with Jack’s sentiment. Did they...really want them to stay?

“We don’t—” Marvin stammered. “I-I-I don’t—we’re—I’m—not...the type of person...who should have friends.”

“What?” Jack asked, shocked.

“You’re all so nice, a-and good,” Marvin said. “We...I don’t...deserve you.”

“That is ridiculous,” Schneep said. “Marvin, and Jackie, you are both some of the best friends I ever had, and the same goes for everyone else.”

“We’re not...good people,” Marvin said desperately. “If we were Anti, we can’t have been. Good people wouldn’t become...that. A-and you’re all just saying it ‘cause you’re friends.”

Can I say something? JJ, who’d been waiting on the sidelines, finally spoke up. Look, I barely know either of you. I’m new to all this. But I can tell that neither of you are bad people. Flawed, yes, but so is everyone. Chase said that Anti was mostly black magic, and he’s right. You can’t be blamed for what that entity did; its perception was warped and broken. You two are nice, you seem smart, you’re friendly to others. You are not bad people.

“Look, I know, it’s hard to accept that you deserve nice things,” Chase jumped in. “But you do. You want to step away from friends and good things because you think you’re not worthy. It’s gonna be hard to accept that you are. But that’s why we’re here, okay? To help you accept that.”

“And to point out when you need something,” Schneep added. “Something that you think is above you. I swear, I will fight every single bad thought you have, anything that tells you that you do not deserve all the care and love that you do.”

Jack laughed a bit. “Yeah. We all will.”

Both of them were crying, and despite the falling rain, it was quite obvious. Marvin reached over and grabbed Jackie’s hand, pulling him close. “I...I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Jackie nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rasping. “I...we should...I’m going to go back. Are you going to?”

“Yeah. I’m going back, too.”

Jackie nodded again, then let go of Marvin’s hand. He took a deep breath, and walked over to join the others.

Marvin shivered. The rain was starting to feel even colder than it had before. But as he carefully stepped towards the group, it felt a bit warmer.

The moment the two were close, the remaining four huddled around them. Hands were held and tears were shed, slowly joining together in a tight group hug. Everyone kept saying how proud they were of them, how happy they were to have them back, how much they loved them. And more tears leaked out, though of a different sort of emotion altogether. They were so caught up in the moment that they didn’t even notice the rain until they headed back down the stairs.

And as the six headed home, the storm started to lessen.

— — — — — — —

“Can’t believe it’s actually snowing,” Jack muttered, brushing white flakes off his coat. “It never snows here.”

“I like it.” Jackie looked around, taking in the white blanket covering the park, then up at the sky. “Everything looks all clean. I like how the snow is all smooth.”

“Mm. Won’t be for long.” Jack pointed. The two of them were content to sit at a picnic table, sheltered from the snowfall by a nearby tree. But some ways away, two girls were running through the snow, pelting their dad with snowballs. Chase was laughing. It was good to see. Lily tripped over something in the snow, and he bent over to help her up. “There’s gonna be so many footprints when they’re done with it.”

“Aw.” Jackie frowned, pulling his coat closer. He didn’t really feel the cold, but it still affected him, so he had to make sure to dress appropriately for any weather. “Hey...when will the others be here? Do you think they forgot we were going to meet up?”

“I don’t—wait.” Jack paused. “Nope, there they are.”

A car pulled into the nearby lot, and three people stepped out. JJ recently got his license, so he and Chase had become the chauffeurs of the group. He looked around, then waved at the others, turning back to point them out to Marvin and Schneep. The three headed over, and Jack and Jackie made room for them at the table.

“It is so cold!” Schneep immediately started complaining. “There is going to be so much ice later, it is awful!”

“Oh shush, you like having cold weather so you can have warm drinks and stuff,” Marvin said.

“Okay, yes, but that is inside, where I cannot risk the chance of slipping,” Schneep griped.

JJ laughed. Speaking of warm drinks. He pulled his backpack off and rifled through it, taking out a couple thermoses. I thought if we were going to be meeting up out here, we should keep hot.

“Oh nice!” Jack grabbed one with his name written on the side in sharpie. “What’s this?”

Tea and coffee. And hot chocolate for the kids, JJ explained.

“Sweet,” Jackie said, leaning over to grab one as well.

“So, uh...” Jack cleared his throat, and turned to Marvin. “How’d it go?”

Marvin leaned back, rocking slightly on the picnic bench. “Good, I think. I mean, it’s just the first session, but...it was a good sign, I guess.”

“Hey, uh, Marv?” Jackie said. “I...forgot the address.”

“Oh. Right. It’s uh...Hang on a moment.” Marvin pulled out his phone, opening up the notes. “547 Norwich, on the east side. You can’t miss it, there’s a big sign with ‘Riverwood Counseling” on the front. You’re, uh...going soon?”

“Next week.” Jackie copied the address into his own phone. “‘M a bit nervous,” he mumbled.

“Nothing to be afraid of,” Schneep said encouragingly. “They are very good, very reputable. And if things are not working, they will transfer you to someone new without any charge.”

Jackie smiled a bit. “Well, I guess if you guys trust them.”

At that moment, Chase and the girls got tired of their snowball fight and came over to the table. “Hi!” Lily said brightly. “Ooooh, what’s that?”

“It’s a thermos,” Moira explained to her sister. “They’re for hot things like soup. And hot chocolate.”

“Well, would you look at that? There are two with your names on them,” Chase said brightly. “Here you go. JJ, you brought them, right?”

JJ nodded. Cocoa for them. And this one has some tea for you.

“Oh sweet! Thanks, Jays.”

It had been a few months, and the group had decided to meet up for some casual catching up. Chase had finally gotten a new house, just a rental but he hoped to find one for himself eventually. Schneep had started taking online classes. Since he couldn’t exactly continue his surgeon profession he decided to go back and find something else to do. He was particularly interested in physics, and he was convinced that it could explain how his new magic worked. Jack’s apartment was almost entirely repaired, and the Internet had finally settled down about his disappearance. JJ’s shop was picking up business again.

And Marvin and Jackie? Well, they’d found themselves a new place. A small townhouse, just big enough for both of them, part of a row of houses with connected walls. At first, they’d debated whether or not to continue living together or to live separately, but eventually decided on the former. After all, they still had problems, with memory and movement, and more, and decided it would be easier to live with someone who could help out. They were still working on finding new jobs. Jackie wanted something active, and Marvin wanted something quiet. The search was slow going, but they were making do. Jackie had been particularly bored at night, but didn’t want to go out and try being a vigilante again. Maybe eventually. Marvin was still relearning how to use his magic, and was teaching Jackie how to, as well, given Jackie’s new abilities.

The group had been talking for about half an hour when suddenly Moira tugged on the edge of Chase’s coat. “Dad? Who’s that? She’s been staring at us.”

Chase looked over towards where Moira was pointing, and his eyes widened. “Guys. Look who it is,” he said quietly.

The others all glanced in the same direction. “Shi—oh no,” Jack muttered. “It’s that—that magician. Delyth.”

JJ sighed. Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time.

“Who?” Marvin asked.

“She’s with the, uh, the magic police,” Jack explained.

“Oh fu—” Marvin quickly ducked his head, deliberately not looking over to where Delyth was standing, casually leaning against a tree.

“Should we talk to her?” Chase asked.

“I think so,” Schneep said. He paused, then stood up. “I will.”

“Wait, no, she’s coming over here!” Jackie gasped.

There was a sudden flurry of activity as the group tried to act casually, pretending they hadn’t seen her and weren’t keeping an eye on her as she walked over. Until eventually, they couldn’t pretend any longer.

Delyth stopped next to the table. “So...it is you,” she said slowly. “You know, you gave us one hell of a scare when you disappeared.”

“Hey, language,” Chase said, indicating the two small girls sitting next to him.

“Oh. Sorry.” Delyth paused. “We were looking for you, but it was like you all just...disappeared. Correct me if I’m wrong, but was a certain other magician helping with that?” Nobody answered. They weren’t about to throw Yvonne under the bus. Delyth shook her head. “Never should’ve given her access to ABIM systems,” she muttered.

“Did you want something?” Schneep asked.

“Hmm...well, no, not really.” Delyth looked them over, making eye contact with each. “You know, the ABIM is pretty busy. If a case hasn’t been active for two months, it’s deemed low priority, provided there’s no significant danger. If four months pass, we have to permanently shelve it, until there’s evidence for it becoming active again. Marked as unsolved, and people tend to forget about it.” She looked down at her watch. “Well, I have to go. It’s been nice seeing you all again. It’s been, what, five months?” After a moment, she nodded towards Jackie and Marvin. “Glad to see it all worked out. Goodbye.”

 The group remained mostly silent as she left, though Jack muttered a quiet “goodbye” and JJ waved as Delyth disappeared into a car in the parking lot and drove away. Then, once she was gone, Chase turned to the others. “What was that about?”

I think that was her saying the magicians won’t bother us, JJ signed, a bit in awe.

“Oh thank god,” Marvin breathed. “I don’t want to be on their bad side anymore. No more magic police, thank you very much.”

“She could have been a bit more direct with it, though,” Jackie added.

Jack just laughed. “Wow. So, I guess that’s the last we’ll see of her, then?”

“Provided nothing else strange happens to us,” Schneep pointed out.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t. I’ve had enough strangeness for my entire life.”

So...is it over, then? JJ asked slowly.

“Dad, what was that about?” Lily asked. “Who was that? What did she mean?” Moira nodded, agreeing with all the questions.

“Oh, it’s a bit complicated.” Chase pulled his daughter close and gave her a quick hug. “But it’s nothing to worry about anymore. I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“I guess it’s over,” Jackie repeated.

“Yeah...guess so,” Jack agreed.

Time went on, as it always does. The group ended their get-together shortly after, parting ways for a short while. After a few more months, the strange disappearances faded into local legend, with people speculating what happened but nobody getting close to the truth that was only known to a small group of six friends. Magic remained, side effects lingered, but they settled back into their place, becoming the new normal.

Still, none of them forgot what happened to them for those three years. It would be hard not to. They had scars to prove it, and some memories would never fade. But the past was the past. And together, they moved on, looking forward to the future.

[darlasfish]

Darla had a stubborn heart. When she became fixated on a thing she wanted, a goal she dreamed of achieving, or a person she loved, there was almost nothing that could move her from that passion. Especially when she knew that something was right for her. She had moved to Echo Isle a couple years ago to pursue her chosen career path, and despite some natural homesickness and missing old friends and family, she had never regretted it because it was what she was meant to be doing. When she met Finn, not long after coming to the island, she had a feeling deep in her bones that he was a person who she was meant to be loving. Of course, it wasn’t the idealistic concept of love at first sight—if that existed at all, Darla was still a stranger to the experience. But it was an instant affinity, a sense that he was somebody she could easily grow to love, if they only had the chance to get to know each other. And that was exactly what had happened; they became friends and got closer and closer until one day she looked back and realized she had fallen completely for him along the way.

Her feelings weren’t a secret to him, Darla having confessed to him at some point and Finn having expressed that he felt much the same way, but didn’t want to date for the fear of ruining their friendship. That was something she’d had to accept, understanding that it meant he truly cared for her—and even if she was willing to take such a risk with the optimistic outlook that even if they’d tried to date and it didn’t work out, they would have made it out on the other side as friends nonetheless (or more hopefully that they would never break up at all) she could only respect his reservations. Since then they’d remained friends as usual, only occasional moments and meaningful glances bringing back to attention the fact that there were lingering feelings aside from platonic between them, though they’d always leave it unspoken. Finn had never done anything to lead her on or intentionally mess with her head after that, until the night of the Halloween masquerade ball. It was as if a switch had flipped halfway through the night, and after meeting back up when they’d spent some time chatting with other people, he acted more bold than he ever had, openly flirting with her and holding her close when they danced. Darla had thought it was a breakthrough, some epiphany that would lead to them finally getting together, and by the time they almost shared a kiss, her vision of their future happiness was shattered with only a millimetre of space between their lips when Finn pulled away.

There were a lot of emotions wrestling for dominance in the moments after he left her standing out there on the dance-floor alone. Humiliation and indignation were in the ring, but the hurt was what stuck around after the fight fizzled out. The hurt was was what lingered as she spent the rest of the night trying to find other dateless friends to hang out with and try to enjoy the party while it lasted, even though she’d been hung out to dry by the one person she had wanted to spend the evening with…As she made her way home and held in her tears until she was in the privacy of her own room…As she turned a heartbreak playlist up to maximum volume and allowed herself to belt out her pain. She gave herself a night to feel her feelings, and then she pulled herself together. There was no part of Darla that assumed malice on Finn’s part—she knew him too well to misunderstand his intentions like that. When he flirted with her and came a breath away from kissing her, that wasn’t a cruel joke or meaningless fun that he decided to cut short for no reason. He’d gotten scared and couldn’t follow through with what he wanted; she could see it in his eyes before he left. Now he was too scared to face her, ignoring her text and letting her go to voicemail when she called. Darla wanted to shake him. What are you so afraid of?

Instead of continuing to pester him when he didn’t respond, she waited for him to reach out, and when that didn’t happen after another day, she readied herself for an in-person confrontation. He couldn’t expect her to let him go without ever speaking again, so he’d chosen the hard way himself. That meant Darla baking a batch of cookies and showing up on his doorstep uninvited. “I would have told you I was coming, but you wouldn’t have picked up my call,” she said pointedly as he started to question her unexpected visit, further explaining, “I didn’t know you’d be here, so I took a chance.” Then she held up the box of cookies in her hands, adding, “And I made snicker-doodles, because I know you like them, but they’re not your favourites and I don’t think you deserve jam thumbprint cookies right now.” The gesture meant: even if you hurt me, I still love you. Even if I’m mad at you, I still want you to have nice things. It also meant: things don’t always have to be perfect to be good. In short, the cookies meant a lot of things she hoped translated without needing to be spelled out, but she would put into words if he still didn’t get it. “Are you going to invite me in?”

"I thought you'd like this." -Darla [ @darlasfish ]

“Darla!” With widen eyes, he stared at the redhead who stood before the entrance of his apartment door. To say he was expecting to see her would be an understatement, as if anything, Finn would’ve expected that seeing him was the last thing Darla wanted to do right now after what he did. And why would she, one may ask? Because ever since the night of the Halloween ball, Finn has been avoiding the redhead any chance he get’s. He knows, it was a asshole move of him to do especially to someone who he views as one of his closes friends. No, she was more than that. Darla was someone special to Finn. So, why has he been avoiding her for the past couple of days then if she was? Because Finn was ashamed, and he didn’t know what to do other than keep his distance from Darla for the time being after everything that happened at the ball. 

See, the night of the ball had been an unexpected one. What began as a night of them enjoying themselves together, turned into one where he found himself having feelings for someone else he didn’t even know. A crush at first sight as he would like to say, towards a blonde who was as sweet and kind as anyone could be. It came to a point where he was almost compelled in wanting to get to know Ella more, but then the second he had the chance to look back at Darla, it was as if reality crumbled down onto Finn before he realized what he was doing. He liked Ella, sure, but at the sight of the redhead, he was then reminded of the fact that he had feelings for her too. Stronger feelings than some measly crush. And she felt the same way he did too. Right then and there, it was as if his focus shifted once again, only this time he had the courage to do the one thing he wouldn’t let himself do before despite knowing how she felt about him— he openly flirted with Darla. And he kept on doing so throughout the night, the pair becoming even more touchy and affectionate than ever before, so much so, it came to a point where the two of them were about to kiss. But just as her lips hovered his own, Finn pulled away. 

That’s why he’s been avoiding her. He freaked out after realizing what was about to happen, and after moving away from her, he did the dumbest thing known to man and apologize to her before leaving her. Alone. Finn’s been beating himself up mentally ever since, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to go to her and apologize for it. Even when she tried to call or text him, he hadn’t responded and after a day ago, she stopped completely in contacting him. That’s why at the sight of her now had stunned him. More so, when he finally noticed the container of baked goods she held within her hands. “I-Is that….what you’re here for?” He questioned while pointing at the container, unsure of how else to react. “Thank you, b-but you didn’t, I don’t…….how did you k-know I’ll be home?” 

[kittyprincessofcats]

She-Ra S5 E05 - Save the Cat

ARE YOU READY TO HEAR MY THOUGHTS ON THE BEST SHE-RA EPISODE EVER? SO AM I!

Sorry this took so long. I was pretty nervous to talk about this episode, to be honest, because I love it so much and was scared I’d forget something or wouldn’t do it justice. Don’t know if I still need to say this at this point (since it’s been so long), but there will be spoilers for the rest of the season in this post!

- First of all, and I’ve already talked about this in my review of Stranded, but I need to say it again: Just the premise that Adora is going back to save Catra from Horde Prime really makes their story come full circle: Back in the pilot, Adora left the Horde without Catra, and Catra has been accusing her of “leaving her behind” ever since. In Catra’s mind, Adora leaving the Horde meant that Adora didn’t care about her, and it’s been a huge source of grief and bitterness for her. And now, so many seasons later, even after Catra has hurt so many people, even after she’s asked Adora not to come for her, Adora is literally walking up to Horde Prime himself (way more dangerous than Hordak’s version of the Horde) and endangering her mission and the entire world because she doesn’t want to leave Catra behind again. Because Catra means that much to her. It’s such good storytelling! If Corridors was what started Catra’s redemption, then I think Save the Cat is what redeemed Adora in Catra’s eyes (or at least, what made her understand that Adora does care about her).

- I love how determined Adora looks in that beginning shot. That’s the look of a girl about to go save her gf!

- I thought it was a bit strange that the clones didn’t notice that Adora’s talking to the others on her way to Prime, but since Prime later reveals he knows her friends are there, they probably actually did notice and just didn’t say anything.

- I wish they’d kept that scene of Glimmer having a more elaborate flashback, but I get that they just didn’t have the time for it.

- I love how Entrapta just goes *heart eyes* at the many clones. And Bow asking if they’d believe they’re the inspectors 😂 - great way to bring back that gag.

- “You would never risk the safety of your Catra.” PRIME SHIPS IT. No, seriously though - Prime says he “sees all” (and we know he’s seen Catra’s thoughts) and he said “your” Catra. This, and some other lines in this episode, made me realize it would be canon. (Also, fun fact, because I watched some bits of this show in other languages for fun: As awful as the French dub is for changing that “Kyle had a crush on Rogelio” line to “Catra had a crush on Rogelio”, in this instant they did really well: In French, Prime goes a step further and says “your precious Catra” instead of just “your Catra”.)

- The way Prime touches his clones is so creepy.

- Entrapta asking Wrong Hordak (thinking he’s Hordak) if he recognizes her made me so emotional. I wasn’t even that into Entrapdak back in s2/s3, but the way their relationship was written in season 5 really made me ship it. It’s about the PINING, the LONGING, the TRAGEDY, the way his memories of her make him overcome two mindwipes... I’m here for it!

- I always wonder if it hurts Entrapta when someone grabs her by the hair. Since her hair is magical and all that.

- “We’re not keeping him.” “But we broke him! We’re responsible for him now.” Okay, I love Wrong Hordak. I love how Bow talks about ‘keeping’ him as if he was a pet. And I also like how Entrapta immediately realizes how useful having him around could be. Also, I love that they name him “Wrong Hordak” and seriously just keep calling him that. 😂

- “I don’t fight for the first ones. I fight for my home, for myself and for my friends.” I honestly really like that the show never showed us the first ones or Adora’s birth family. Not that it would necessarily be a bad thing, but I like the message that it doesn’t really matter where she came from - Etheria is her home and what she’s fighting for and that’s enough.

- “Of course, your Catra.” He said it again!

- “She hoped you would come for her, poor thing.” Oh, the angst is real, I love it! Just thinking about Catra (who’d told Adora to stay away) eventually getting so scared that she started to wish Adora would come for her after all... I love angsty stuff like this.

- Oh, that first look of Catra with the gelled back hair and green eyes is so properly creepy.

- When Wrong Hordak complained about the ship being designed “so that it may only be navigated by one who access to the hivemind” it reminded me of Entrapta’s castle that only she can navigate. I think some people have pointed out before that Entrapta and Horde Prime are foils to each other (especially when it comes to Hordak), so that’s a really nice parallel there.

- How did Glimmer manage to open that door when she’s running from the clones? I thought only the clones could open them? Is that a mistake, or is there some canon explanation?

- “What did you do to her?” Oh, I love it when Adora’s so worried about Catra. These two and how cute they are will be the death of me.

- Oh, Prime’s so creepy when he touches Catra... I love him as a villain, but I love to hate him, you know?

- “My place is with Horde Prime, Adora. I don’t want to leave.” Can we talk about the parallel between this line, and Catra insisting back in season 1 (in Promise, I think) that she doesn’t want to leave the Horde?

- “You broke my heart.” I mean, come on! That’s gay!

- Catra and Adora’s fight is so tragic because it’s the first time they’re fighting but both genuinely don’t want to hurt each other.

- “I’m not leaving without you.” Exactly what Catra wanted to hear from Adora back in The Sword Part 2 - You know what I said in the beginning of this post about their story coming full circle?

- “I don’t wanna hurt you!” “But you have already hurt me.” This is supreme lesbian drama, and it’s so good! (I’ve been waiting so long for a show to give a lesbian romance this kind of attention!)

- Adora’s terrified expression when Catra almost lets herself fall is so painful. And the way she hugs Catra afterwards... my heart.

- Catra and Horde Prime talking together is creepy in just the right way.

- “I always hated that guy in particular.” Hell yes, Glimmer!

- “She was afraid in the end. And she suffered. Perhaps I will make her my new vessel, though she would not last me long.” Oh, the angst hurts so good, I love it! (Why do I love seeing my faves suffer?) Also, this slicked back hairstyle on Catra looks kind of amazing.

- “Why did you come back? We both know I don’t matter.” “You matter to me.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Yes, tell her, Adora! Tell her you care! Don’t let her talk herself down like that!

- “Come on, Catra! You’ve never listened to anyone in your life. Are you really going to start now?” I love how this is what gets through to her. I could also just quote the entire dialogue from here because everything about it is pure perfection:

Catra: “You’re such an idiot.”

Adora: [smiling and crying] “Yeah. I know.”

Catra: [laughs]

Adora: “I’m going to take you home.”

Catra: “Promise?”

Adora: “I promise.”

Catra: “Adora...”

I mean, what do I even say to that? Catra affectionately calling Adora an idiot, the callback to Promise, how Adora doesn’t hesitate to say “I promise”, how Catra breaks free of Prime’s control... it’s all so perfect. 😭

- Adora just not hesitating to jump after Catra - that’s love, holy shit!

- God, Aimee’s voice acting when Adora cradles Catra... so good. (And that’s their childhood theme playing in the background.) Didn’t Aimee (or someone else?) say on Twitter that that was intentional since your most vulnerable moments make you feel like a child again, or something like that?

- Adora’s transformation into She-Ra gives me chills every single time. Best scene in the entire show, don’t @ me (or at least second best after the kiss). The way she cradles Catra’s lifeless body, Horde Prime’s taunting words, and then she opens those glowing eyes... amazing. And what makes it even better is that this is her first proper transformation after breaking the sword. We got a tease of it in Stranded, but this is when She-Ra really comes back, and it’s her love for Catra that enables her to transform. PERFECTION.

- “You miscalculated.” Yeah, you miscalculated how gay she is.

- Entrapta whistling Darla over like a dog is amazing. 😂

- Adora carrying Catra bridal style while that epic music plays... I’m living!

- Also, side-note: Adora’s new She-Ra look is SO MUCH BETTER than the old one! She also seems a lot stronger now - look at that fancy stuff she can do with the new sword! (I like the idea that the Sword of Protection was only holding her true power back.)

- That healing scene! Adora’s healed people before, but it’s never looked this gay. And Catra waking up and saying “Hey Adora” is just so fitting.

- That hug... I’m not crying, you’re crying. They’re finally together! And Catra’s clinging to Adora so tightly! 😭 Also, she’s purring! (When I first watched this ep with my sisters, one of them literally went “Finally!” at this moment - mood.)

- Hordak finding the LUVD-Crystal and saying Entrapta’s name also gives me chills. I also just realized that he thought Entrapta was dead until this moment - holy hell!

- One more thing I love about this episode is that their plan to save Catra actually worked. Because it’s a plan that seems so stupid and risky at first, and while you’re watching you kind of expect it to go completely wrong and expect Horde Prime to catch them... and then it seems like he does, only for Adora and her friends to turn things around and succeed. I love that.

- Another thing worth pointing out is the whole symbolism of Catra’s death and rebirth and how it marks the beginning of a new chapter in her life.

So yeah, this is the best She-Ra episode ever, I rest my case. Before I watched season 5, I expected it to be gay (I even estimated the chances of Catradora becoming canon at around 70%), but I didn’t expect it to be THIS gay. This episode went beyond my wildest dreams and expectations. Horde Prime saying “your Catra” twice, that whole “You broke my heart / Prime has set me free of that pain” talk, Adora being so scared for Catra during their fight and so determined to save her, the whole “I’m going to take you home / I promise” part, Adora jumping after Catra and cradling her in her arms, her love for Catra bringing back She-Ra, the bridal carry, the healing scene, the hug, and I could go on. Noelle said on twitter that there were two versions of this episode and the gay version is what we ended up getting - AND IT SHOWS.

This is when I knew for sure that Catradora was going to be canon. Before season 5, I gave it a chance of 70%. After those little hints in the first few episodes, I said 80%. But after Save the Cat, I was 100% sure. I basically already considered it canon after this. I kept wondering how it would happen, but the "if" wasn’t a question to me anymore - so I decided to just lean back and enjoy the ride through the rest of the season :)

[Previous episode]  [Next episode]

[jupitermelichios]

(disclaimer for anyone who’s struggling with time rn: it’s not wednesday, i just forgot I was going to do this this week, and since it’s a snow day in lockdown time is doubly meaningless, so I figured why not do it today)

Fic: let me take you by the hand (and drag you through the streets of london) - BtVS x Hellblazer crossover

There’s a little welcome committee waiting on the sidewalk for them when Spike and Giles pull in outside the Magic Box in the stolen car; Anya, Xander and Dawn huddled outside like they’re waiting for alms.

“They’re doing something… weird,” Anya says, like that word has any meaning at all coming from her. “We ran away.”

“We made a strategic retreat,” Xander corrects. “Because magic is creepy and it smells gross.”

“How gross?” Giles asks immediately.

“It’ll air out,” Anya says dismissively. “I wouldn’t let them do anything that would impact sales.”

“Okay, well. Good.”

“Anyway, you’re one to talk. Is that cigarettes I smell?” Xander asks. “You boys been sneaking off to smoke behind the bleachers?”

“It was behind the bike shed, in my day,” Giles says, unruffled.

Everyone turns to look at him, so Spike shrugs. “They still thought it was medicinal in my day.”

“Wow. You’re so oooold,” Dawn says, wrinkling her nose.

“I’m dead, Bit. And I didn’t actually smoke when I was alive.” His mother couldn’t abide the smell, said it brought on her trouble. Darla had been the one to teach him - she’d smoked like a chimney all the years he’d known her. Cigarillos, cigarettes in a holder once they became the fashion, and even a pipe occasionally. She’d had a long-stemmed clay pipe, the one thing from her human life she’d kept, and on rainy evenings when it was just the four of them sitting around by the fire pretending to be a real family she’d lie on the settee in her chemise and drawers and smoke, while Dru or Angel brushed out her hair for her and Spike read aloud the most amusing obituaries and murders from the paper.

“Wait, you didn’t smoke. You.”

Spike shrugs. There’s a lot about his human life he prefers not to think about, but it’s not like his lifestyle was exactly unusual back then, at least not among respectable middle-class families. “I was pretty straight-edge. Didn’t smoke, didn’t drink to excess, never even considered trying opium or hashish. It didn’t last.”

“Clearly.”

They stand around in awkward silence for a bit. Spike rolls another cigarette, to give himself something to do, and then rolls one for Giles as well just to draw it out. Giles takes it without comment, letting Spike light it for him before taking a deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for long enough that he coughs a little when he finally exhales.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he says, pointing at Dawn with his fag. “Smoking isn’t cool.”

Dawn, bless her sarcastic little teenage heart, rolls her eyes. “I know. Anyway I get that lecture enough from Spike, I don’t need it from you as well.”

The others turn to stare at him. Spike shrugs. “I’m not getting any deader, but I’m not having her give herself lung cancer.”

“Well I for one am glad Dawn isn’t dying of cancer,” Anya says brightly, like the absolute lunatic she is.

“Me too,” a rough voice says behind them, and they turn to see John, Buffy, and the witches coming out of the shop. John gives Spike a smile that makes something long forgotten shiver through his chest. It’s been a while since anyone looked at him like he was their equal, no animosity or fear or even irritation in his expression. “Tara’s done a tidy bit of spellwork, the blood will keep as long as you need it to.”

“We’ll pick up some more on our way out of town,” Spike says. “It’s on our way.”

“I guess this is it then,” Willow says. She’s still pale, doesn’t sound quite her normal self, but that’s better than he would have expected given what she’s been through. “This is weird. I kind of thought we were going to be stuck with you forever.”

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Dawn says, flinging her arms around him in a tight hug.

Two hugs in one day.

“I’ll miss you too. But I’ve got your number, and I’ll call you, as soon as I’ve got a phone, okay?”

She nods against his chest, her hair making a soft noise against the leather of his coat, and then lets him go. “I’m okay.”

Tara wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close at once. No one had asked her and Willow to be parents, but they’ve done a pretty good job, all things considered.

“Well, I’m not going to miss you,” Xander says. “In case you were wondering.”

“If I ever get this damn chip out you’re first on my list,” Spike tells him, and then, mostly just to be a dick, pulls Anya into a hug.

“X’ttrk,” he says, one of three words of Ashma’har he’s picked up over the years. It only means goodbye but Xander doesn’t know that and Spike can see it’s absolutely killing him, which is all he wanted. “Keep being you.”

“I don’t see how I could be anyone else,” Anya says, and because she’s Anya she means exactly that. “You should… also continue to be you.”

“That’s the plan.”

He’s not going to risk hugging the witches, even though he would if it were only Tara here. He offers her a hand to shake instead, and she takes it solemnly. “Look after yourself.”

“You too.”

He doesn’t try to touch Willow - it wouldn’t be welcomed. He sticks the hand not holding his cigarette in the pocket of his coat, and says, “Look after them. All of them.”

“I do my best.”

He doesn’t get involved in relationship drama that doesn’t involve him if he can help it (getting weekly updates from Dawn on the Chad - Emma J - Emma C love triangle doesn’t count since he’s only hearing about it forth hand) but he’s seen some fucked up relationships in his time, and he’s not stupid. He knows there’s something going on between the witches, and the fact that they’ve been all lovey dovey again the last couple of weeks isn’t enough to make him think they’ve actually fixed anything. “Look after Tara.”

Wide eyes, and Willow looks at John before she looks at Tara. Maybe he’s being a pessimist and it’s just that John cussed her out for it as well, but he doesn’t think so. Which is a damn shame, because they’re bloody cute together when everything’s working like it’s supposed to.

She juts her chin out pugnaciously and says, “I always do.”

So that’s not getting fixed any time soon.

Still, it’s not his problem. They’re adults, technically. It’s up to them to figure out what they’re fucking up.

Which just leaves Buffy, the one goodbye he’s been dreading. “Slayer...”

She cuts him off. “We’ve said everything that needs to be said. Don’t do anything to make me need to hunt you down.”

“No promises, pet. You know that.” For a moment they just stare at one another, but Spike forces himself to be the one to turn away first this time. He wishes that didn’t feel like a metaphor. “Alright, let’s roll.”

“You’re driving,” John says, sliding into the passenger seat. “On account of I never learned.”

Spike slings his bags into the back seat before he gets into the driver’s seat. The one that holds the blood feels cool to the touch, like it’s just been taken out of the fridge, and tingles like magic. “You never learned to drive?!”

John shrugs. “I’m a queer londoner. Plus my best mate’s a cabbie. He’ll generally take me where I need to go when I’m in town.”

“Yeah but this is America.”

“I hitch-hike.”

“Dangerous.”

“For them more than me.”

Spike snorts and twists the screwdriver they’re using for a key. The engine purrs to life under his hands. It’s going to be a bitch to keep it in fuel, but he already knows he’s going to like driving it. Good call, Ripper. “So what exactly are you contributing to this trip?”

“Charm.”

“Lucky me.”

Dawn waves as they pull away, and when he glances in the mirror at them, still standing there, he sees Anya is too.

He doesn’t look back again.

[purkinje-effect]

The Purkinje Effect, 35

Table of Contents. Go to previous. Go to next. Hey holy shit hello you are at Park Street Station and I am begging your patience. At this point we have found a vault we do not want and a lack of cooperation we do not want and no information useful to solving what’s wrong with Vault 82 and we’ve been waiting nine eighteen months for an update.

____________________

The pocket door opened. Before Valentine and Geek lay twenty bodies or more. At the center of the carnage, blood-spattered and spaced out, stood a heavyset man in a black tuxedo and fedora, and a tall lean dark-haired woman in a dove grey sequin evening gown, respectively each wielding a submachine gun and a baseball bat. Angel, the mishmash Mister Handy, had gotten involved in the fray, and hovered at a close distance drenched in blood.

Hancock and ‘Choly are in the middle of that pile, Geek panicked, putting his knuckledusters back on. The fuck happened, that these two mowed down their entire outfit?

The mobsters seemed to be sizing up the odds of overcoming the robot. Before Valentine and Geek could act on their hunch that the’d have to somehow overcome Skinny Malone and Darla themselves, ‘Choly came out from behind some shipping crates with an utter nonchalance, hobbling toward the two mobsters with his cane at a cool pace. He’d slung his rifle over his back, and instead drawn an odd-looking suppressed revolver from the gun harness hidden beneath his white vest. But, he holstered it as he approached Skinny and Darla. If they’d seemed pleased with their job well done, ‘Choly appeared to have shot over the moon.

The chemist was shorter than either of them, and tilted up on his toes to whisper in their ears. Even before he came back on his heels, they had started out of the vault at a full sprint. He clapped his gloves together in delight, transfixed in bliss, and he started to double back to his hiding place, only to stop short.

“Not another step closer.” Hancock cocked his shotgun and steadied it over the top of the crates at ‘Choly. “The fuck was in that dart gun. Why did they do that!”

Valentine and Geek stay frozen in the doorway, still bewildered by the situation. The pink ghoul couldn’t find relief just yet, beyond knowing his companion had survived. 'Choly had not yet noticed their presence, but Hancock had. The ghoul in road leathers only made eye contact with them long enough to communicate with them his dread, before playing it off that he’d been eyeing Angel.

‘Choly crumpled and put up his hands, exasperated.

“But I took care of them for us, didn’t I? Why’s it matter how! Just when I started to think I was doing everything right for once, and now I feel like I’m back to scratch with you. What’s it going to take to win you over? What’s that Pink Plymouth got that I don’t?”

“Don’t make me compare you n’ him. Not fair t’either of you.”

“Mister Carey is right to ask what you believe he did wrong!” Angel approached the chemist and ghoul with the intent to get involved. “Everyone is safe. I’m the only one who’s got any dings or scratches, last I checked. The only mistake I calculate he might’ve made in your eyes is he let those last two criminals live!”

Hancock didn’t budge, his eyes locked on ‘Choly. “Stand down, Angel.”

Its ocular lenses swiveled to its owner.

“Sir?”

“Of course!” ‘Choly teetered on awkward laughter from the stress. “It’s all just a lot of words. Isn’t that right, Hancock? I’m out of bullets, and those were my last three Sweet Nothings. The good mayor wouldn’t fire on an unarmed man, would he?”

Geek squared up his stance, ready to rush the chemist.

“I don’t know about him, but ME--”

He came unstuck, only to meet Valentine’s outstretched arm. The synth wasn’t strong enough to hold back the pink ghoul with just one limb, but the gesture grounded him just enough to get his attention. All the while, he heaved in place.

“If you value your limbs attached, you’ll stay put. That cannibal bluebird will put itself between you and its owner before you can land even one punch.” Valentine cocked the .44 and aimed it at ‘Choly with both hands. “But my aim’s decent enough, I could definitely get a shot in.”

“Geek!” ‘Choly squeaked, jerking to look their way. His wide eyes darted between the two men across the room. “Oh--! You got the door open!”

Geek snarled.

“If I gotta crush that tin can--”

“Woah, woah, woah! Fellas, ease off.” Hancock stood, easing up his grip on the shotgun just a bit. “We’re just. We’re just talkin’. Like he says.”

“Still say fists speak louder’n muzzles. Fuckin’ creep.” Geek scowled at ‘Choly, who stared back with a slighted intensity. “What’s to talk about, then?”

“Seems the Scollay Square Swain’s embroiled in a bit of a love triangle. Par for the course.” Valentine’s cigarette bobbed loose on his lip. He pocketed the gun, hoping Hancock would stand down too. “Thanks for bringing an entourage to bust me out, Hancock.”

Before Hancock could reply, Geek put his hands to the patch of fence on his face. Stuttering, he pointed insistently at Valentine with an awful wide-eyed frown.

“HE WAS LIKE THAT WHEN I FOUND HIM, I SWEAR IT.”

The cigarette fell from Valentine’s mouth, and he blinked. It took him a moment to process the implication there’d ever been a risk of his being eaten. The comprehension sublimated into a sharp barking laugh. Geek let out a tepid chuckle.

“No cannibalizing this bucket of bolts today. Guess we should be proud of ya for good behavior.” Valentine shepherded the conversation back to Skinny and Darla, pointing in the direction they’d vanished off to. “Care to explain what happened here? You tell ‘em they left the oven on or something?”

“You could say that.” ‘Choly resumed leaning into his cane. “They’ll probably run for a good thirty minutes before Nothing wears off... By then, they’ll be so exhausted and dehydrated that they won’t know where they even ended up.”

“You always had that stuff?” Aghast, Geek’s face slacked. “That shit sure as hell ain’t nothin’.”

“We were cornered in, and I’m out of bullets. And darts now, too. I didn’t feel like we had another choice. There were too many of them for Angel to take care of on its own.” ‘Choly sniffed, stiffening even further. “It’s only got a serial number formally, but I’ve been calling it Sweet Nothing. For, ah, the whispering thing. Synthesizing it is almost impossible. It takes a patent precursor from the-- from a military base. I. I have to ration them.” The color washed from his glistening face as he described it. “Before you ask, yes. I used my last three of them.”

Geek started pacing and worked on inhaling his flatware stash. Valentine shifted in place, watching ‘Choly. The chemist buttoned back up, produced a handkerchief, and removed his glasses long enough to wipe his face.

“Before he started running with Darla, I would’ve sworn up and down neither of ‘em deserved to be on the receiving end like that. Some people should never meet. They brought out the absolute worst in each other.”

“You’re one of the only people with enough history with that lunkhead to defend him,” Hancock ribbed. He let out a low whistle and dropped his rifle to his side finally. “That stuff’s gotta have one helluva hangover when it wears off.”

“Can we... walk and talk?” Valentine pressed. “This place’s given me the worst case of cabin fever.”

The two ghouls and synth agreed and started back the way they’d all come, with Valentine leading the way. Angel addressed ‘Choly before he could question the others’ feelings regarding the mobsters.

“Come along, Mister Carey. Can’t let them get too far ahead of us.”

The chemist relented and mounted. He kept his mouth shut, acting closed off from the group. Nick tapped his fedora brim up at ‘Choly.

“The name’s Valentine, by the way.”

“Melancholy. I’m sorry. This is nothing like I expected.”

“I think Hancock’s the only one of us expected anything close t’what happened here,” Geek muttered, in an attempt to deflect any sense of alienation off Nick.

The pink ghoul continued slipping flatware through the gaps in the muzzle.

“You’re still mad. I get that. But look!” Hancock walked backward to face them, and flourished his arms outreached to them, grinning encouragingly. “It was a fantastic idea that we split up. Took way less than an hour. Can you imagine if we’d all gone down that elevator shaft and gotten surprised by Skinny’s lot? Hoo boy! Sure surprised him!”

“Some trust exercise this turned out to be.” Geek zipped up. He patted at his chest with an unconscious thoughtfulness, having fallen behind everybody. “I wanna come back down here, with some muscle an’ extra hands. Accidental or no, stuff from at least half a dozen other vaults got shipped here instead. Includin’ 82. You remember the invoice at Vault-Tec HQ, John? Two gardening kits? One of ‘em’s down there in the cafeteria, still in the crate. Other one might be, too.”

“Done and done! I’ll bring some of the Neighborhood Watch down here, tote it back to Goodneighbor. We can crack it open, take a look at it. See what they intended to ship out.”

“What’s so important about some gardening kit?” ‘Choly barely shoved down an acrimonious whine. “Mine didn’t have any plants in it, living or dead.”

“Vault-Tec typically set up each location with its own sustainable food sources,” Valentine explained. “Any vault that saw continued use longer than the experiment’s intended course either had to continue relying on those same indoor farms to do so, or resign to trading with outsiders. Vault produce is some of the cleanest and healthiest there is, provided you can broker their trust. Two vaulties whose vaults didn’t have any produce whatsoever, though. That’s mighty curious.” The synth grinned when it clicked for him. “Hancock! You scraped together the help of two vault dwellers to get the vault door open. Color me impressed.”

“I have my moments.” Hancock rolled his shoulder, only to grunt from an injury sustained from the scuffle. “Course, doesn’t hurt two vault dwellers happened to be in Goodneighbor at the same time...”

“Kit wasn’t the only thing I found, though.” Geek pulled one of the Vault 114 Vault Suits from his coveralls and zipped back up. He handed it up to ‘Choly with a shit-eating sneer. “A souvenir, Ruski. Dunno about you, but I’m glad this ain’t the hole I crawled out of.”

“I, yes. Hear hear.”

‘Choly hastily shoved the jumpsuit into Angel’s storage compartment. He tried to spur Angel to go on without the others, but the Mister Handy would not.

“You and I are out of ammunition, Sir. None of us is in any condition to get in further scuffs, especially not alone. We must stick together to protect one another.”

“I, hah. Hah. Yes. Of course. How, how silly of me.”

“Something the matter, Melancholy?” Valentine wondered, dripping with irony.

‘Choly’s mouth became a thin line, and he kept himself and Angel off to the side without straying too far.

“I suppose I just realized I left the oven on.”

The synth murmured, and fell back to walk alongside Geek with a nearly paternal earnest.

“Vault 82, you said. You really are from out of town, aren’t you?”

“Family’s from Providence.” He couldn’t place why, but despite his appetite issues, he felt comfortable conversing with this synth. Though the very notion of the armature beneath the skin of a synth had always nettled him, Nick’s demeanor felt so... real, so easy to talk to. He could understand why Hancock cared whether this individual was safe. “Y’know anything about 82? This year’s my first time above-ground, and only locals seem to know we’re down there tucked inside a state park. Travel sure don’t seem like a leisurely activity anymore. Say. Fenway Park. I remember a sign, a... Valentine’s Detective Agency. You that Valentine?”

“Yours truly. Take it you didn’t travel for leisure?”

“My vault’s got these food dispenser machines. I think they’re fritzin’, ‘cause everybody’s been gettin’ sick. But it’s all we eat, and all we can eat anymore, after two centuries livin’ off the stuff. I figure, with the reason you came down here, that the kinda sleuthin’ you do is mostly missing persons cases. But you mentioned some knowledge regarding vaults. Are you positive no other vaults you know of have food dispensers? They produce a... ration paste. Like a custard, but good for ya.”

“You came all the way out here, looking for a way to save your vault’s population. If you’re not averse to working with a synth detective, I might be able to lend a few circuits. Hopefully turn this into a productive cross-state adventure.”

“Doubt it’d hurt to have a fresh set of eyes on this. Dunno your rates, but--”

Valentine waved him down with a smile.

“...Well, now that I’m free to report back to Darla’s parents what happened, I can close that case... and take on another, if you’d like. I’d even do it pro bono, all things considered. This aims to save lives here. Not to mention, you did just rescue lil’ ol’ me.” Before Geek could say a word, he continued. “Give me some time to catch up in Diamond City. I’ll go through my paperwork, to see if I can’t locate any information that would be useful. Is three days good for you? And I should probably borrow the .44 a little longer, if that’s all right with you. To get home in one piece. I’ll return it when you come visit my office. How’s that sound?”

“I, of course. You bet. Thanks. ...Not t’be difficult, but I’m not allowed back in Diamond City.”

“The ‘no ghouls’ thing isn’t as strictly enforced as you’d think.”

“The ghoul thing’s recent. Like, last week recent. And unrelated. I pissed off one of the merchants and she got me kicked out.”

“I don’t even have to guess. Myrna.”

“YES-- Christ.”

The detective laughed as they took the stairs back up into the station terminal.

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll smooth it all over before you get there. If you’ve met Myrna, you know the Great Green Jewel’s not just anti-ghoul, but anti-synth, too. And I live there. They make exceptions.”

“Nick, you’re a peach.” Hancock grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m glad Skinny’s bunch didn’t rough you up too bad. The Commonwealth would be worse for wear without you in it, man.”

“Most of us want to see good and justice in the world. The only thing that makes me different is, my desire for that’s programmed.”

As they stepped out onto the Common streets again, Hancock patted Valentine on the shoulder.

“Don’t sell yourself short, my friend. We won’t keep you. I know at least three people back in Diamond City alone who’ve probably been worried sick about you for weeks.”

“Sure is great to feel useful and wanted,” ‘Choly snapped. He managed to finally spur Angel onward now that they’d emerged topside. The chemist and robot zipped off toward Goodneighbor.

Nick shot a stern stinkeye his way from under the brim of his hat, but said nothing until he and the robot had vanished around a corner.

“You really know how to pick ‘em some days, Hancock.”

“Give the guy a break. He’s still grappling with a bends-deep case of Rip Van Winkle Syndrome. He’s probably just weirded out by your... you-ness.”

Nick took a little too long to reply, obviously preoccupied.

“I’m going to... take his cue and scram, too. I’ll see you in a few days, kids.”

“Toodles!” Hancock waved to him, and got to walking with Geek.

“Toodles?” Geek rolled his eye at him. “--Ugh, finally.”

He ripped off the muzzle, and poured the open box of Abraxo Powder straight into his mouth.

“I am not going to ask where you got that.”

Go to Next »»»

[gunsnbowies]

together - roger taylor x reader

summary: a mistake on Roger’s part leads to the downfall of your relationship, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself

warning(s): angst, character injury, slight smut, drug use (not descriptive, just a mention of it)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: @bowieandqueen11  for the contest with the prompt ‘You could have died!’

There was little that brought Roger happiness anymore. He had lost you, the most important thing in his life. He had cheated, an idiotic lapse in judgement that haunted him like nothing else ever had. When he had gotten back from tour, John had done everything he could to get him to tell you. You two had been together for just under three years, how could he do this? It was all his fault.

If you don’t tell her, I will.

Roger never told you. He cursed John like it was his job. He remembered your face when you walked back into the apartment you two shared. You had come from lunch with John, and Roger knew as soon as you walked out the front door that things would be different by the time you came back. The look in your eyes shattered his heart to pieces. You knew.

I’m only angry because you didn’t tell me, okay?

That was a lie. You were angry because you had every right to be. The fact that John was the one to tell you just added insult to injury. The band had been home from tour for over a month, so there had been ample time for Roger to confess. But he hadn’t. Instead, he did everything he could to pretend like nothing had happened. You noticed things. He felt different when you made love to each other, and when he kissed you on the cheek instead of the lips when he left for the studio or a drink with the boys, you sensed something was off. John had told you with such sweetness, such a respect for your feelings and worry for you. He had said that it was his responsibility, as he had Veronica back home to be loyal to and just wanted you to know. He wasn’t doing it out of spite or to ruin your relationship, he was just genuinely trying to help. Roger didn’t see it that way.

I’ll be back for the rest of my things soon.

You had packed up a suitcase full of your clothes and other valuables, taking off to god-knows-where with Roger’s heart still following you. You went to Freddie’s, knowing he and Mary wouldn’t mind having you as a guest. He sat you down on a chaise with a glass of the strongest liquor he had in the house, and sat with you while you cried and voiced your sorrows. Freddie’s heart broke for you, and he stayed up all night to make sure that you would be okay. You loved Roger and he knew how much you were hurting, so he took no issue in taking care of you, like you had taken care of him in hard times and when he was sloppy drunk. He owed you, but more importantly, he loved you.

You’re supposed to be my friend!

Roger had lunged at John, eyes blazing and fist clenched, ready for a fight, but John just took a step back, hands out in a defensive position. Roger had just arrived at the studio for another day of recording, and he thought he had a handle on all his emotions, but the sight of the man who, in his mind, ended his relationship, was far too much to handle. He kept on towards John, fists swinging and voice straining as he screamed at John, Brian launching into action, arms wrapping around the midsection of the drummer, trying to keep him from getting too close to hurting John. Freddie watched in bewilderment, never imagining that Roger would get get that close to hurting one of his best friends. Roger seemed to recognize the errors in his actions, as he stopped fighting to get out of Brian’s arms. His mind was reeling, far too many emotions swirling in his mind. Sadness for having hurt you. Agitation at John for telling you what he knew. What Roger should have told you in the first place. And that’s what most of him was thinking about. He was angry at you for leaving and John for telling, but mostly, he was angry with himself. Angry that he had risked everything the two of you had worked for in a moment of drunken stupidity with a girl he didn’t even remember. Brian released him, sensing that he was no longer a threat to John, and Roger’s looked at the brunette bassist with eyes for sorrow, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” And with that apology, he ran from the room, his band-mates calling out for him as he went, but he didn’t listen. 

He sat in his car in the parking lot outside of your apartment, too fearful of the inevitable loneliness that lay behind its door to go inside. He sat there in silence, an hour passing as he rested his forehead on the top of the steering wheel, not even the radio on to keep him company. It was long past dark, and lucky for him, there were very few people out and about to question his choice to stay in the vehicle. Out of nowhere, he was overcome with emotion once again, knuckles thrashing against the steering wheel and dashboard, an anguished scream leaving his lips and eyes screwed shut. There was no way he was going into that apartment.

Another drink?

Roger sat at the bar for hours, downing drink after drink, try to drown the feeling of being incomplete. His heart ached for you, his every cell was screaming for your touch and his fingers were shaking slightly from the mix of alcohol consumption and emotional distress he was under. His limbs felt heavy as lead, but he still managed to bring his glass up to his lips and let the burning liquid sear a path down his throat. He noticed a blonde eyeing him from across the bar, twisting her fingers into her long hair and pouting her lips. Roger sighed, rubbing his brow slightly and trying to organize his scattered thoughts. He didn’t want to go home with that girl. He wanted to go home to you. Some part of him was able to fool himself into thinking that when he went back to your, no, his apartment, you would be waiting for him in bed, ready to snuggle up next to him. No, he definitely didn’t want to go home with that girl.

He did it anyway. Next thing he knew, he was pinned against her bedroom wall, teeth clashing and lips sloppily molding to each other. It was nothing like kissing you. Kissing you was passionate and not at all messy and felt exactly right. At some point, the blonde had gotten his shirt off, and was now running her hands down his chest, telling him how much she loved his body. He didn’t say anything back, just let her continue, doing as she pleased. He wasn’t trying too hard to please her. She turned them towards the bed, pushing him down onto her mattress and pulling his pants off, ridding herself of her clothes quickly and bending to her knees, her mouth taking him in. She couldn’t take him as far as you could, but to humor her, he let out a staged moan, clearly fake, but she didn’t seem to notice. Roger wasn’t getting anywhere from her ministrations, but the thought of you helped him out just a little. Maybe a little too much. “Oh, (y/n),” he rasped, not even realizing his mistake until the blonde stopped, standing up slowly and looking at him with narrow eyes.

“(y/n)? Who’s (y/n)?” she began to slip back into her clothes as Roger sat up, “My name is Darla.” 

Roger sighed, taking the hint and pulling his pants back up, “She’s my... Well, she was my, uh, my-”

Darla sighed, “I don’t care. Just get out.” Roger mumbled an apology, grabbing his shirt and making his way out of her apartment. He paused when he got into the hallway, buttoning up his shirt all the way and leaning against the wall. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were haunting him, and he felt like his sanity was slipping away, but it was fine with him. Now, you were only with him in his dreams and imagination, and as long as some part of you was still with him, he would be okay, even if none of it was real.

I was going to marry her.

It was about a month after you left Roger that Brian began to pity him. Brian hadn’t seen Roger completely sober for upwards of two weeks, and he and all the boys were beginning to be nervous. One night they were in the studio late, and Brian sat down next to his blonde friend, who was wine drunk and laying on the couch, eyes wide open and teary as he held something between his fingers. Brian wasn’t going to mention it, but he couldn’t help but notice the silver ring, a large diamond set on it. Roger hadn’t mentioned anything to the boys about proposing, but here it was, proof-positive that he had absolutely regretted his mistake, and that it was more than a just a mistake for him.

“Roger-”

“I wanted to marry her, Bri,” he interrupted, “I was going to marry her. I bought this ring a year ago.” Brian wrung his hands together, eyes saddened by the revelation of his friend, who continued on his rambling, “I guess I cheated out of fear. And we didn’t even go all the way, that girl and I. I stopped her. I knew it was wrong. I know it doesn’t make it right, what I did, but I suppose the thought of being with (y/n) for the rest of my life, and the possibility of her just saying no... It just got to me, and I was drunk and stupid. I’m so stupid.”

Brian sighed, and Freddie and John, who had been standing at the soundboard, had turned, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders drooping. Brian muttered, “She would have said yes.” Roger’s frame shook with a sob, but Brian kept talking, “Roger, she still loves you. I talked to her yesterday and she’s broken up about it. She misses you. Just, I don’t know, tell her what you just told me. It could help, maybe.” Brian, suddenly aware that Roger may not remember his words in the morning, so he scribbled the gist of the conversation on the back of a sheet of lyrics.

Brian drove Roger back home, but it wasn’t like the drummer stayed there. He knew a neighbor down the hall that had cocaine, and his feet took him there. He teetered down the stairs of the building precariously, his numbed mind barely comprehending that his legs were moving. He found his way to the sidewalk, humming a tune that had popped into his head and stumbling over his own feet. The street was illuminated by a few lights and the occasional headlights of a car passing by, but he was rather alone among the brick buildings that towered above him. He moved along, blinking to try to clear his blurry vision and balancing his steps along the curb. A cab whizzed by him, tussling his hair and the breeze it brought rushing through the thin fabric of his clothes. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, though it was cold enough to warrant one, but he didn’t mind the chilly weather. He paused, facing the street and leaning out slightly. Another car passed, honking, as he was leaning scarily far into the street. He took a step back, but returned to his former position. Another car thrummed past, this time close enough to send him backwards, landing hard on his backside. He cursed, then giggled, standing back up, but instead of putting himself back on the curb, he planted his feet in the gutter. He saw another car coming down the narrow road, and he was ready to feel the rush, when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, pulling him back.

You stood in front of him, eyes watering with tears at the sight of the man you loved putting himself in harm’s way. His eyes widened, stumbling forward with a cry of your name, his arms wrapping around your waist. You couldn’t help but return the embrace. “(y/n), I have so much to tell you,” he slurred, “I-I love you.” You gave him the best grin you could, grabbing his hand and leading him back to the apartment you had once shared, and he didn’t stop talking the whole walk.

Getting him up the stairs proved a difficult task, but once in the apartment, it was easy going. Roger pulled off his own shirt, leaving it in the living room as you pushed him to the bedroom. He flopped down on the bed, giving you a cheeky smile as you pulled off his shoes and socks, tugging off his trousers, leaving him in his boxers, and laying a quilt over him. He gave you one last happy look, before his heavy eyelids took over and he was drawn into sleep. You sighed, kicking off your own shoes and laying down next to him, taking watch over him. You let yourself drift off eventually, and there the two of you stayed.

You came back.

Roger was floored when he woke up to you next to him, and he sat against the headboard, just staring at you for at least an hour, until you rubbed your eyes and stretched, waking up and almost forgetting the reason you were there. You weren’t there because you and Roger had fallen asleep together out of habit, but because you were trying to take care of your drugged-up ex. Roger hummed when you sat up, and gave you a questioning glance, “How’d you find me, (y/n/n)? Why are you here?”

You shrugged, “Brian called me last night. Said you were in a bad state and needed me. He said... Well, he said you had told him some things, and that you needed to tell me those things. I couldn’t help but come, even if I shouldn’t have. Even if what you did was terrible, I love you, Rog. A-and,” sniffled, looking down at your hands, “And you could have died, Roger! You could have been hit by a car or killed in the streets or the drugs...” You trailed off, and Roger got the idea, pulling you into a hug as you began to sob. You let yourself be enveloped by him, taking in everything about him. You looked up at him from where you were pressed against his chest and saw the tears dripping from his own clenched eyes, his hands tangled in your hair as if you would slip away at any second.

When the crying let up, Roger let you go, “Let’s just make some tea calm down and then we can talk, yeah?” He wasn’t expecting you to say yes, but then you nodded and excused yourself to the bathroom. He looked around nervously, figuring that he should probably put some clothes on. He found a t-shirt, one he knew you liked, and yanked his jeans from the night before up to his hips. There were some things in his back pocket, and he grasped them, realizing that one was the engagement ring he had purchased, and the other was a crumpled piece of paper. He shoved the ring back into his pocket so you wouldn’t see, then unfurled the paper. Brian’s handwriting scrawled over it, and Roger grinned, “Brian May, you sneaky bastard.” Brian had slipped the paper into Roger’s pocket when he had helped him out to the car, and Roger was thankful to have a friend so determined. So the two of you had your tea, and Roger told you everything. Everything on the paper and everything he had in his heart, every confession and secret he had. 

When he eventually finished, you looked at him in shock and something else he couldn’t decipher. Roger was clearly sorry, and the fact that he hadn’t actually had sex with the girl helped somewhat (John would later apologize profusely for his mistake), but it would still take time. “I love you, Roger. Thank you for telling me all this, even if it took a rough night to do so,” you said softly, laying your hand over his, “Brian is right. I would’ve said yes. And we can still have that, eventually, but it will take time. We can figure this out, your fears and everything, and we can do it together.”

Roger smiled, “Together.”

[pwnyta]

Nobody ASKED for any of my shitty Pokemon character doodles... BUT IM IN A MOOD.

SO yall have to deal with it.

This is under a read more so dont come at me about it being annoyingly long. Blame Dumblr. Theres a SHIT TON OF DOODLES UNDER THE CUT.

First off I wanted to give Holly a whole classroom of friends... it wasnt GONNA be an all girls school... but I kept crankin of little girly Mons....

I dont actually have a shiny Darumaka or Eevee... but theyre two of my favorite shinies...

I drew these four after so theyre a bit different in style. Shiny Swirlex has the same excuse as the other two shinies... I just love the shiny colors

They also needed a teacher so I repurposed one of my older characters because I thought itd be funny to have a swan teacher... cuz swans are so scary but they care for their babies well.

Darla and Delilah can be bothered with threats because theyre safe with Mr Shandra.

Mikhail only takes classes that are small enough to fit under his wingspan so he can keep them all safe. And Eva and Tiffany learn from the best and just get pissed off like their teacher.

((Hes more bark than bite though... hes not a great fighter and a double weakness to Electric? Garbo. But he puts up a convincing enough front.))

And because he was a swan I gave him a life mate. The only other being that gets any softness from him.

He was an ex pirate.

Mikhail has no interest in criminals!!! So the captain gave up the pirate life and married a very short tempered bird and gained a lot of weight...because I wanted him chubby.

---

‘’Spider’’, Esi, and dear ol Dad. Despite Reds best efforts to keep Esi out of Osborns hands he still ended up an immensely shady bastard but at least hes not as broken as ‘’Spider’’.

I didnt finish their moms because I couldnt settle on a design for Spiders mum....

Now Spider works for Caedere his beloved boss who would never ever lie to him ever. (Hint: Spiders nature is ‘naive’)

---

I tried revamping Ray and Hebanon...  but Ray still gay as hell for his boy.

I bullied Sparky a little. He’ll probably be fine even if Rays got a Mega evo. Its the name of the game Ray... hes supposed to knock his opponent out... you cant get pissed when ever Hebanon gets fucked up in battle.

---

Did I post these? Am I ever gonna finish these character sheets? No. And look I forgot the most pressing detail of Zippos and thats his fuckin Arbok mark on his back. IM A FOOL.

Kreetan and his mum and dad.

So many little comic things I’ll never finish because theres too many and instead of just stopping and finishing something I keep adding to my unfinished doodles instead. This is why I dont take requests or anything.

I time where Leif and Cyndy actually grow up?

THEY ALL HAVE CAT EARS.

Zippo is curious.

.....AS A CAT.

Polly is here too!! And shes ready to punch someone RIGHT IN THE NOODLE.

I also thought itd be nice to draw out some other Chars of Zippo and Crizs generation.

Theyre.. as you may have guessed are not finished yet.

Clem is a timid lad, Mira... not so much. Very brave

Addy is a modest princess type

Jubilee is a sassy lass.

And Criz. A sweet bashful boy whos never done anything wrong and certainly will not die because no one would be cruel enough to let that happen.

((EYES EMOJI))

Babby Clem, Addy, and Jubilee.

WHO’RE THESE ASSHOLES?!

---

Updated Mistletoe. One spooky righteous(in his own mind) lad.

She only looks stoic to start... but shes quite the weirdo.

She just got here and shes ready to go home. What a mood.

Now for some less polished individuals....

Meh meh meh lookit me IM OMI. Im gonna put three of the exact same Pokemon in the same group so Pwnyta has to suffer tryna come up with different designs.

...But I do like them. I imagine that they remain Ekans because they wont need the mark of their tribe so no one will no where they come from. So spooky.

I was torn between the codename ‘Sundown‘ and ‘Daybreak‘ for Crobat.

By day hes a wholesome trustworthy priest... by night he tortures people for a shady shady bug man. He’ll determine if youre truly innocent.

Doc has to deal with all these fuckin weirdos... he just wants to be a doctor... BUT AT WHAT COST DOC?!

This is a sequel to the doodle comic I was makin in a previous post... Kop and Doc develop an interesting friendship (In Kops mind. Its more a ‘stalker with a crush’ situation) But hey if Kops not being paid then hes got no reason to hurt Doc.

...Docs a fun character to bully because hes so smarmy and small.

---

AND NOW FOR SOME SCIENCE BITCHES.

A man of few words and an intense curiosity with mortal beings and his own existence.

A spooky lad who doesnt quite mean to torment his subordinates... its just his Pressure.

Id imagine his form changes are a bit like Iron Man in IW when hes fighting Thanos.

I drew some more science bitches...

Some casual clothes for the original three stooges.

Shes deaf Franz! She cant hear you.

Ya know IDK if itd be ‘canon‘ that they all met as kids... I just thought itd be cute. Little psychic babies all doofin off together... the most troublesome one being asleep 90% of the time due to being an Abra.... and narcoleptic. Abra sleep so much naturally... Geller sleeps even MORE... thats why hes so incredibly smart even for an Alakazam.

I had a whole little redo sketch comic idea of Mewtwo breakin loose and fuckin shit up.... (its never been finished)

Franz tries to put him to sleep. (it doesnt work. He needs Emanuel and Nola to save him and he gets his arm broken for bein such a cheeky lad.)

Mewtwo doesnt have too much of a problem with Geller due to his soft spot for kids and pure desire for knowledge... but if hes gonna protect the other assholes then PERISH.

Dont worry though big boss Deo wont let his subordinates die let alone the second smartest after him... and saves them all pretty easy. A sharp tentacle arm through the chest will stop even Mewtwo.

Some booboos happen tho...

But hes fine eventually and finds his ex wife home watchin the kids.

Shes promptly expelled.

Geller also goes back for Dilla and steals him. Lifes too short not to adopt an ancient fossil baby.

Emanuel isnt delighted... but he doesnt have the heart to call the authorities on a man who risked his life to save him.

Fossil Mons come in two types-- Resurrected fossils which have the skin color of the primary coloring of their Pokemon form so they can be solid black or blue or red or w/e... Ancestors of ancient Pokemon have normal skin tones.

And another comic sketch idea... where Geller and Roswell are gifted with some fancy new Mega stones... Ros? Not too keen on the idea hes seen what can happen to a bitch when they Mega Evo... he aint got time for that. Geller goes HARD for SCIENCE.

Ros: Geller I know your a spoon guy but stick a fork in that bastard cuz hes done. COOKED. If he thinks im riskin my ass for his bullshit. Lets go tell him off together (im scared to go without you...)

Geller: We experiment on living things all the time for the sake of scientific progress.... are we really too good to be subject to our own studies?

Ros: YES. ABSOLUTELY.

After seeing Geller use his without hesitation, putting his body through a world of hurt for the sake of SCIENCE!!! Ros couldnt pussy out on his boy...

His Mega is just FABULOUS and now he loves it.

--

I was also makin a team with the Pokemon that have the highest stats (non Legends/Psudos/Megas) but I got bored after Blissey. She has a Togekiss wife I didnt finish either... Oh well.

Shes a bold lass and prefers double battles with her support wife. She doesnt like using dangerous moves as its in her nature as a Blissey to heal.

---

(I forgot his whiskers... OH WELL)

I wanted to give Flaminio some people who missed him after he got spirited away by his Ghosts.

After he disappeared people looked for him but he was never found and years and years went by and people stopped looking. Even Clove and Ceto had to move on.

Koban is a loyal bitch though and he never let it go. He still wants his friend back. Hes an old boy now... so old people probably call him ‘Nekomata‘ and wonder when his tail is gonna split.

[randomly-random-jen]

The Curse of Friendship

An Angel fanfic

Angel's curse really is a curse. It's going to take some time for Cordy to come to terms with that.

(This story was originally published in 2012 and has been lightly revised before being posted here.)

1361 words | [PG]

I watch him, the way he moves around the edge of the room instead of entering the center where I am. I smile, rolling my eyes. He’s so predictable sometimes.

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“Cordy, I don’t-”

I huff, blowing my bangs up, then cross the room and grab his arm. “It’s not the end of the world.”

I watch the emotions play across his face—horror, terror, confusion, embarrassment. He thinks he’s so good at hiding them behind that impassive expression. But his eyes give him away. I can see right through the façade. Sometimes without much effort. I’m starting to think he’s not trying as hard to keep things from me anymore.

He takes a deep breath as if to settle his nerves. Not that he needs to breathe. I’ve long since stopped thinking of him as different, though. Angel’s just a guy. A guy with the emotional maturity of a ten-year-old.

“Like this.” I grab his right hand, slipping it around my waist, and take his other in my right hand. We start to move around the room, circling and turning. He’s more graceful than you would think looking at him. And he isn’t stepping on my toes. I frown at him, but he’s looking anywhere other than me. “You’ve done this before.”

His eyes dart around, finally resting on my shoulder. “Maybe,” he mumbles.

I roll my eyes. He’s so frustrating sometimes. “Then what’s your deal? Why were you acting like a child when I said we should dance?”

He shrugs. We continue to dance, and I can feel his muscles relax. When I look up at him there’s this small smile playing at his lips. He looks cute. I shouldn’t be thinking that. My face flushes, and I force the sudden butterflies in my stomach to calm. But I can’t quit sneaking peeks.

And then it happens—he finally looks up at the same time I’m peeking and our eyes meet. There’s a heat between us that I hadn’t noticed earlier. It builds and surrounds us. Wraps us in a blanket of intensity I can’t ever remember feeling before. And I can’t look away.

At some point, we stopped dancing. The physical distance between us must have disappeared around the same time even if I can’t remember ever moving closer. Angel swallows hard, his Adam’s apple moving slowly. But it’s his eyes I’m focused on. I’m pretty sure now that he’s lifted the shutters so I can see. See him, who he really is. See into his soul.

I shudder. He swallows. We’re both trembling. And we’re so damn close I don’t think I can breathe. Angel’s not even pretending anymore. I know I should say something. This is not what I had in mind when I asked him to dance. I’m not even sure what this is. It’s scary. Terrifying. And at the same time, I don’t want it to end. I could stay like this—locked in his embrace, staring into those eyes—the rest of my life. I want this.

It’s a startling revelation. I blink and the spell is broken. Angel takes a step back, mumbling something that sounds like an apology. I don’t know why he’s apologizing. I’m the one that started this. And I’m not sorry. Not in the least. That scares me a lot, but I ignore it.

“Cordy-” he starts. He’s facing away from me, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. It’s a familiar motion. He’s uncomfortable. “I- we- I mean-”

Emotional maturity of a ten-year-old. I touch his shoulder to get his attention. Surprisingly, he doesn’t jump out of his skin. And I don’t move my hand. “Angel, look at me.” I have no idea where this nerve is coming from.

He turns slowly, his lips set in a line. “We can’t do this.”

“Do what?” My insides feel like jello, complete with the wiggling and jiggling.

“This.” He sighs. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t think I do.”

“Cordy-” His voice is pleading, begging me not to put it into words. Whatever it is. Okay, I know what it is. It’s been growing between us for a while. I’ve been trying to ignore it—the way my insides flip when he looks at me, the way my skin seems to vibrate when he touches me, the way he invades every dream. But I don’t think I can anymore.

I move a little closer. He backs into the table. There’s this wild, terrified look in his eyes. I don’t give him a chance to run. “Angel-”

“I can’t. Cordy, you know I can’t.” His body relaxes, his gaze landing on my hand resting on his arm.

“But you want to?” I don’t know where that came from, but I realize I need to know. After a second he nods. There’s this surge of electricity and fire that burns through me. And that heat between us is back.

We just stand there—my hands on his arms, his forehead touching mine. I’m not sure I can stand much more, but there’s nothing in me that wants to move away.

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question.

“Of course I am,” he says quickly then takes a deep breath. “Aren’t you?”

I look at him and see the panic in his eyes. But under it, I see—more like feel—something else. It’s the source of the intensity that’s about to consume us. My mind flashes back through a series of moments over the last month—the side glances and small touches, the stammering and awkward offers of lunch, the absolutely content feeling I get when it’s just me and Angel.

“I’m in love with you,” I whisper without thinking.

“What?” It comes out more like a gasp, and I can’t help by smile.

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“But you did. You said- and you meant-”

I lean into him, and this time, he doesn’t try to pull away. “Why does this have to be so hard?”

I shudder when his hands pull me closer, wrapping around my body. He tucks my head under his chin, and there’s that contented feeling again. But I know he’s about to blow that all to pieces.

“Because I can’t do this. You know that. The c-”

“Sometimes I think you use that curse as an excuse. So you don’t have to get close.”

He leans his face forward so I can feel his lips against my scalp. “You’re the one that’s always reminding me that I can’t-”

“Oh please,” I say, pulling back so I can see his face, “you’ve already slept with Darla so we know that’s not the problem.”

“It’s not the sex,” he says softly. “It’s the-” He gulps. “The feelings. Cordy, I can’t because I- It’s not the sex that makes me happy, it’s the- It’s the being with you.”

I tremble, my skin feels like it’s alive, and my heart’s about to launch right out of my chest. “I’m willing to risk it.” That’s a lie. Or at least, I’m trying to convince myself it’s a lie because right now I think I might just risk it.

“I’m not. If there’s even a chance I could-”

“Go evil.”

“-hurt you then that’s too much of a risk. I can’t put you in that position. After what happened with Buffy.”

I push away with a sigh. “It always comes back to Buffy. Buffy, Buffy, Buffy.” I know I sound like a child, and I don’t care. Angel’s got a crooked grin on his face when I turn back around. It’s one of his most charming looks. I roll my eyes. “Sorry. I know that you’re right. I don’t want any of that either. I don’t like seeing you like that, having you go through that.”

We’re quiet again, letting the conversation wash over us, letting it sink in. I let him hold me again. It’s all I can offer.

After a while he asks, “Friends?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

I bite back the tears and nod into his shoulder. “Always.” And I mean that.

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

@ohmygoodnesslesbians I love this AU fanfic! This is a great continuation of the Darla chapter! REALLY want to know what happens next!

***

Ok so this an au continuation of the bonus chapter where Patience had Darla instead of Andrea. This also includes the au where Vittoria, Leo and Patience's daughter teams up with Darla, Salvatore and Patience's daughter to replace their fathers as Don's of their respective Families. Hope you like it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tires squealed outside.

The sound of a car door slamming could be heard from the small dining room table Vittoria Borghese and Darla Mallozzi now sat.

Darla’s heart quickened. Her pop wasn’t supposed to be home until after sundown.

Before either she or her half sister could move the front door was thrown open.

“I need your help.” Simone Winslow said bluntly.

Her car was still running outside. In the back seat lay a dead body.

Simone Mallozzi, now going by Simone Winslow, had planned on spending the day in her apartment, picking up while her girlfriend Geraldine Abelman was away at a special lecture from some famous sculpture halfway across the city. That had been, of course, before she stepped outside and found a dead man on her stoop.

The bloody note pinned neatly to the man’s jacket lapel read “To the daughter of Patience, I know who you are and what your game is. Careful now.”

Right after Simone got done vomiting on the sidewalk and hyperventilating, She dragged the dead man into the back seat of her car and stepped on it.

  Vittoria soothingly rubbed circles into the back of Simone’s hand while Darla paced back and forth.

The TV from the living room could be heard in the background. Giovanna Mallozzi, the youngest of Patience and Salvatore’s three daughters, was blythely watching an old movie and sticking her little freckled nose out of her sisters business.

Darla stopped her pacing and reread the note. It was written in a neat and educated Italian hand. It had to be from the Borghese family. It had to be.

But who? Who found out about Vittoria and Darla’s plot?

“I know a place we can bury the body.” Vittoria offered in a calm and cool tone.

Darla didn’t know how she could always manage it.

Calm and Cool.

Nothing like Darla’s memories of their shared mother. Patience was always yelling and fighting and frothing at the mouth. Patience was like Gia. Patience was like Darla.

Patience was not like Vittoria.

Calm and Cool.

“Where is it now?” Simone asked. Her doe brown eyes stared blankly at the table.

Vittoria continued to massage her limp hand.

Calm and Cool.

“I stuffed it under the porch. We need to get rid of it before Pop gets home.” Darla replied.

Salvatore Mazzoli was not an understanding man. It had been a huge risk bringing Vittoria here in the first place. A mistake. That risk and that mistake were now amplified beyond belief now that there was a body that needed to disappear underneath the porch. Not to mention Miss Loud Mouth in the living room had witnessed the whole thing. Giovanna was 14 and had the sense of a rock. Knowing her she’d tell the whole neighborhood that there was a dead body under her porch.

“We should examine it again. Any clues as to who left the body are vital.” Vittoria said.

The TV volume lowered.

“Hey Darla?” Gia’s voice called from the room over.

“Yeah?” Darla tirely replied.

Simone shuddered a bit and Vittoria patted her shoulder.

“So, I know the dead guy like wasn’t here earlier and all, but do you think Andrea might have seen who dropped it off?”

All three girls straighten their backs.

“Andrea?!” Simone demanded from her seat. “Andrea who?!”

Gia’s groan of annoyance was easy to hear even from the room over.

“You know. Andrea? Our brother?” Gia replied.

Darla made eye contact with Vittoria.

Andrea?

The half brother who Vittoria was trying to replace as heir to the Borghese family?

It answered the question of who knows about Vittoria and Darla’s alliance.

But what was he doing with Gia?

“He’s really nice. He told me that my eyes reminded him of mom, which was kind of weird but I think he meant it as a compliment. He took me out for ice cream after.” Gia prattled on, oblivious to her sister’s frozen state of panic.

Simone shot up from her seat and marched to the living room, her face purpling with rage. Vittoria stood and she and Darla quickly made their way to follow her.

By the time they reached the living room, Simone had hauled Gia up by her long black twin braids and was screaming in her face.

“Do you have any idea of how dangerous what you today was? What kind of idiot are you? You don’t go out for ice cream with fucking strangers!” Simone howled. She shook shook Gia and pulled at her long curly hair. For once Gia’s expression looked properly afraid.

Darla lunged forward and put herself between her sisters.

“You! You’re just as fucking bad Darla! You and your little fucking quest! Trying to replace dad as Don! You should be ashamed. Not only have you put us all in fucking danger you’ve dragged Gia and I into it. I hope you’re very proud of yourself.” Simone seethed.

She shoved Darla away and stormed out of the room.

“And take care of the fucking body!” Simone yelled before slamming the door behind her.

Darla let out a long exhale.

“Ow.” Gia mumbled as she rubbed her head.

Vittoria shook her head..

“Well, we can go dispose of the body, now that we know who left it at Simone’s.” Vittoria surmised.

Gia shot her a confused look. “Wait, you found it at Simone’s?” Giovanna asked.

Vittoria raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Yes.” She replied in a seeking tone.

That only seemed to confuse Gia more. “Well then Andrea couldn’t have seen who left it after all. Is that why Simone got all mad?”

Vittoria opened her mouth and then seemed to think better of it. She gave Darla a meaningful look as she exited the room.

Darla’s shoulders slumped. It had been a really long time since she had seen Simone so upset. Not since Darla had told her Mom didn’t care about them had her sister turned so red.

She would have to find a way to apologize to Simone later. Right now Darla needed to take care of Gia and go bury a body.

Darla put a hand on Gia’s shoulder. “Gia. I need you to listen very carefully. Do NOT tell Pop about the dead guy. If he gets back from the job before I do, distract him, but under no circumstances do you tell him about Simone or Vittoria or the dead guy, capisce?” Darla pressed.

Gia shrugged her off. “Yeah, Yeah, ok I get it. I’m not stupid Darla, I can handle talking to dad y’know.”

Darla didn’t reply. She followed Vittoria out of the house to pack the body into her car.

  It was a peaceful scene.

Salvatore Mazzoli and his youngest daughter Gia were watching a baseball game. Gia had really liked baseball ever since she read about the The All-American Girls Professional Baseball League.

She’s sitting cuddled up against her Papa’s side. She could smell gasoline,smoke and cigarettes on his shirt, a combination she associated with safety and warmth.

Papa had just gotten done with a hard job and is enjoying the evening with his baby girl.

Gia wasn’t sure what the job was, only that it was hard and Papa didn’t want to talk about it. He told her as much when he asked her to fetch him a beer.

They watch quietly together.

Someone makes a home run.

They both get a kick out of it. Gia shouted and jumped up with glee while Papa only grinned at her.

Salvatore ruffles her hair.

“That must have been something to see, eh Gia? Sitting in the front row.” Papa asks her.

His voice has a comforting rumble to it that made Gia snuggle closer to him.

She hums in agreement.

It would have been really cool to see that in person.

Suddenly, in a moment of terrible word association and recollection, Gia saw fit to share something else with her father.

“Hey, Andrea said he’d take me to a baseball game sometime.If I’m a good girl and all that stuff. Maybe I’ll get to see something really cool, like the ball landing in someone's face!” Giovanna chattered excitedly.

Salvatore stiffens and the temperature drops.

Giovanna notices neither of these things.

“Who’s this Andrea? He from the neighborhood boy?” Salvatore asks. He doesn’t like the idea of some boy trying to pry a date out of his little Gia. She’s just a baby for crying out loud, she doesn’t need boys trying to take her out.

“Oh, no Papa. He’s my half brother. He drops by school sometimes to talk to me. He’s kind of weird but he buys me stuff, so I guess he’s ok.”

Salvatore’s grip on his beer bottle is so tight his knuckles turn white. He stiffly stands up and leaves the room without another word.

Gia gives him a curious glance but otherwise turns her attention back to the TV.

Its soon after the yelling begins.  

It’s about 12 o'clock in the morning. Darla has just returned from burying a dead body with Vittoria.

She returns to the house to hear her father roaring with rage on the phone in the other room. Gia is sitting on her stomach watching movies on tv.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW? FUCKING FIND OUT!” Salvatore bellowed/

“What’s got Pop all excited?” Darla asked, a little annoyed she can’t go straight to bed. Darla spots blood on the sleeves of her sweater and quickly pulls it off. The last thing she needs is her father to see and start asking questions.

She hangs the garment over her arm and asks her little sister “What are you even still doing up?”

Gia is swinging her legs slowly and doesn’t turn from the TV.

“Papa’s mad because Andrea.” Gia replies casually.

The words turn Darla’s blood to ice. She sharply turns to face her sister.

“Andrea? What about Andrea?” Darla demands in a sharp tone. “Did he come back?”

Gia didn’t reply. She was to busy jealousy looking at the model in the commercial and her small bust. Gia looked down at her own chest with annoyance. She wished she had a flatter chest.

Darla marched over there and grabbed Gia’s chin, yanking her face to look at her. “Answer me!” Darla demanded.

Her anxiety skyrocketed by the minute. Did Andrea come back to the house? Did he hurt her? Did he touch her?

The evil possibilities of what her brother could have done. If he was any thing like what Vittoria said, he was capable of anything.

“Oooooowwe” Gia whined. She sat up and pushed Darla’s hand away.

“I just told him bout Andrea coming to see me at school.”

Darla blinked at Gia in disbelief.

“He’s been coming to your school?! Why didn’t you tell me earlier!” Darla cried.

Salvatore’s angry ranting from the other room increased in noise. “YOU GET THAT MOTHERFUCKER ON THE PHONE RIGHT NOW!” Salvatore railed.

“And why the hell did you tell Pop?!?” Darla shouted. This was just perfect. Great way to end a fucking fantastic day.

Gia just shrugged. “I dunno.” She mumbled. She fully directed her green gaze back to the TV.

Darla had never wanted to strangle her sister more than that moment.

  It’s 4 am. Simone is peacefully sleeping with Gerry.

Simone came home,took a shower, and was relieved to find Geraldine back from her lecture. She was just the person Simone needed to see. They had a lovely date walking around the park. All the tension and horror of the afternoon melted away, leaving Simone feeling guilty for grabbing at Gia that way. Simone knew she hated getting wailed on by dad and she certainly wouldn’t want her sisters adding on to that. She’d have to apologize to Gia later. And giver her a talk about trusting strange men.

Simone had no trouble falling and staying asleep after coming home from her date and having back breaking sex with Gerry.

Or she would have been, if the phone hadn’t rang.

The shrill ringtone jolted Simone awake.

She groped her night stand and answered the phone.

“Hello?” She says into the phone blearily.

She is rewarded with her Pop screaming on the other line.

“DO YOU KNOW WHO ANDREA FUCKING BORGHESE IS? YOU KNOW WHY HE’S SHOWING UP AT YOUR FUCKING SISTERS SCHOOL? IS THIS YOUR MOTHERS DOING? HAS SHE BEEN AROUND AND YOU DIDN’T FUCKING TELL ME?” Salvatore shouted.

Simone had absolutely nothing to say to that.

“I don’t know anything about it. Call me back at a decent time.” Simone robotically replied.

She hung up and stared straight at her wall.

Oh shit.

The phone began to ring again.

Gerry sat up in bed. She rested her head on Simone’s shoulder and cupped her breast.

“Everything ok, doll face?” Her girl friend asked sleepily.

Simone couldn’t reply.

She was to preoccupied by what Pop’s knowledge of their brother meant for her. What it meant for Darla and Vittoria. And most importantly what it could mean for poor Gia.

The phone rang again.

Gerry turned to face it.

“Do you need to answer that?” She asked in a worried tone.

Simone snapped out of it.

“Yeah.” She replied dazedly. “Yeah maybe I should.”

Simone leaned to answer it and Gerry crawled back to her side.

“Hello?” Simone’s greeting was more hesitant then her last one.

“Oh thank god you answered.Look I know you’re pissed but Giovanna fucking told dad about Andrea. He’s been showing up to her fucking school, Mona. Vittoria isn’t answering, I’m losing it.” Darla’s stressed voice filtered through the phone.

The puzzle pieces were clicking in her head.

“Oh fuck.” Simone replied.

Darla began speaking again but Simone wasn’t listening.

“No, Darla, you don’t understand, Pop just called me in a uproar yelling about if I talked to Mom or if I knew who Andrea was. He, he thinks Mom is putting Andrea up to it, Darl. He doesn’t get it. You gotta make sure genius over there doesn’t fucking tell him either.” Simone insisted. Her heart sped up. She glanced at Gerry to see how much she heard. Thankfully, she had fallen back asleep.

Darla was worryingly quiet.

“Darl?” Simone asked.

Darla sighed.

“Yeah. No, you’re right. Pop can’t know. I’ll try and talk to Gia tonight.” Darla replied.

“And get a hold of Vittoria while your at it. She’s got as much at stake as you,and there’s gotta be something she can do about her creepy brother. I don’t like this guy following Gia around, I don’t care if he’s our brother. It’s weird”

“No,you're right. I’ll see if I can get a hold of Vittoria. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

“Darla? Get some sleep while your at it. You’ll need it.” Simone said.

The dial tone rang out.

Simone hung up the phone and tried to call back asleep but couldn’t. Not with all this guess work for her brothers motivations floating around her head.

Maybe Pop had the right idea. Maybe Patience Winslow was the answer to this problem.

[halloweenvalentine1997]

Abbatoir on a Hill

1.

They found the remains of the body that I left behind in a fit of post-traumatic rage. It was a puddle of lye and hydrochloric acid, and gone was the baseball bat-wielding storm of a man after he tried to assault my sister Sinead’s love, Dale Tierney. A few months ago, my sister committed suicide over an incident with him in which the circumstances are still unknown to me. Since then, I’ve been laying on my bed with voices compressing my head, telling me they’ll sell me and kill me. I am too strong, too fortified with indifference to care. My parents are rarely at home and I’ll never tell them. My dad would just advocate for changing the medication combination I’m currently not taking. 

My twenty-sixth birthday is just around the corner. A brand new gun I purchased from one of my meth dealers shines in my hand in the starlight, full of a fresh supply of bullets. My red-lipsticked smile could enchant the devil. On top of the hill where I stand are two high school enemies, Jamie Frances and Stormy Hale. The last place I saw them was under the freight train bridge. They were sharing a pot pipe. They called me an ugly dog. That time, I let it slide off like snow from a gabled roof. Now, I’ve got the two of them right where I want them and I’m still not bothered by their comment. Underneath of them the grass blades look like ebony knife blades and my hand is on my cheap but efficient gun. It’s a silencer so there won’t be much sound when I snuff their lives out. I know how reckless this is considering anyone could have seen me out their window at 2 a.m., but I’m willing to risk it anyway. Jamie and Stormy don’t see me watching from the top of the metal stairs.

2.

I approach with quiet steps across the hilltop. Their backs are turned. My hand grips the gun more firmly than a snake’s coiling hold on a victim. Closer. They turn around. Closer still. Jamie yelps like a mouse before the gun’s bullet catches her in the head, embedded in the wisps of her brown hair. She collapses like a darted, tranquliized animal to the grass. Next, I point the gun at blond, self-righteous Stormy. I saw nothing. The fear in her faces screams a novel’s length of words. I fire at her forehead and she, too, is done for. It’s my lucky night that they chose this hilltop to smoke weed. I was coming here to smoke meth. I embellish each bitch with another bullet hole and calmly leave them there, the swishing sound of the gunfire replaying in my mind.

The hill. The black grass blades. An abbatoir for two girls who crossed a thin line. 

3.

I go home, hide the gun and decide I’m already too high to take another hit. I open an antiquated copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel and nearlly read the whole thing, satisfied that the voices in the wall have been silenced. I’ll read the end tomorrow. Before I close my red-tinted eyes at 8 a.m., I think I see Sinead standing at the edge of my bed.

“Good job, Mathilde,” she tells me. “You snuffed those cunts out just like a hurricane takes out a wooden house in southern floods.”

I love her.

I miss her.

I almost cry, but my emotions are in a graveyard somewhere. My eyes are only ice instead of liquid tears. My heart isn’t broken. I know she’ll always be with me. I know that the mirage I made of Dale will always love and caress me, even when I’m no longer young and dangerous. He’s not really here but it’s like I can see him anyway.

4. 

I imagine the bones of Stormy and Jamie decomposing under the cold earth. And if they are cremated, their ash is undisturbed in urns for centuries. I think of crimson bullet holes on the hilltop of a feminine warzone. It’s the last thing I see before I fall into a pleasant slumber. 

- Darla Cathilde Cutherford