#nicole: washed off with the rain

[falling-star-cygnus]

If you're still looking for billy angst ideas I got something what if he got heavily injured got close to powering off and muttered something like "I don't wanna die." Or something like that

Or he actually did die/power off but by some miracle powered on again and then insert everyone's reactions

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE -> the way i shot up out of my bed and ran to my computer to write this is genuinely insane considering my athleticism abilities [which is to say none]

i don't get a lot of asks, so when i do it always makes me kick my lil feetsies

TRIGGER WARNINGS: robot dismemberment, murder [implied], brief suicide idealization [doesn't finish the thought], kidnapping [i don't write it but he's clearly not there willingly], dehumanization [referring to Billy as an 'it' in a derogatory sense]

"Nicole."

She chokes on nothing but air and nearly drops her phone in the process. What the hell, why did Anby feel the need to do this her. Appearing from the shadows like some sort of cheesy apparition was only funny when other people got spooked! She'd been texting the Proxy!

Anby, at least, waits for her older sister to settle down again before continuing:

"Where's Billy?"

Why would I know!? Nicole narrows her eyes at the smaller girl, pursing her lips in thinly veiled indignance. It wasn't her job to track her teammate's whereabouts off of missions. Or even on missions. They were capable people.

"Huh? I don't know. Why?"

Something about Anby's appearance throws her off.

Her white bangs are looser, tickling her chin and shoulder and out of that itty bitty braid that kept it out of her face. Come to think of it, Nicole hadn't seen her with that braid since yesterday morning...

Weird.

"I wanted him to redo my hair," she answers, placid as ever as she rolls the little green cap between her fingers, "Nekomata hasn't seen him either."

"Oh- Well, I can redo it for you, Anb-" "No thanks, I know how to do it."

Nicole can feel a vein twitching somewhere in her forehead. She loved her sister, she loved her sister, she loved her sister, she loved-

"Then why ask."

There's a sort of tentative silence that follows as the smaller girl fidgets, almost suffocating and sticky and wrong- Anby was uneasy about something... and that never boded well.

"...he's been sad lately. Like a dog that can't go outside when it rains."

Odd comparison, but I suppose it's fitting.

Nicole hadn't noticed anything particularly different about the android. He had been a little less energetic, maybe, more content to just... sit quietly in the company of the other Hares..

Oh god, he'd totally been acting like a sad dog.

"I thought doing my hair again might cheer him up," Anby continues, like she hadn't just made the older Demara feel slightly guilty for not noticing sooner. They all lived together.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Nicole decides to ask, despite the cloying sense of dread settling in her stomach like cement. "Did he go somewhere recently?"

A voice throws in her two cents in her other ear, "I saw him heading out yesterday, around 12!"

"Ack- Nekomata!"

Why was everyone trying to give her a heart attack today!?

"Oops.. Sorry, Nicole! But Billy promised he'd bring me back mackerel! And then he never came back."

"Billy wouldn't break a promise."

The sword wielder says it matter-of-factly, in the same tone she would use to insist that a boss theme was about to play. Or like how someone would say the sky is blue.

She wasn't wrong, though, Billy didn't break promises. Not the ones he makes to them.

An awful feeling of impending doom washes over the three.

Nicole clears her throat. Time to be the boss:

"Let's think about this, did he mention where he was going at all? Or when he'd be back?"

They all check their messages. Nothing.

Call history. Blank.

…emails? All spam.

Of course.

Don't panic, Nicole reminds herself, He could just be... hanging with Wise! Or that wolf guy.. uh.. Von something?

Anby was getting antsier with each failed clue, her fingers twitching and curling into intermittent fists by her sides. Nekomata was trying to act unaffected, but her ears were tilted back just slightly too far.

"Urgh... OK!" the two smallest members of the Hares jolt at the sudden exclamation, but the boss is too busy dialing Billy's cell number to care, "if he won't come to us, we'll go to him!"

The number rings, and rings, and rings- the android always answered on the fifth- and rings, and rings, and-

Click.

"Well, well~ You sure called faster than I expected. Has it even been 24 hours yet?"

That... was not Billy.

-><-. . .-><-

He didn't know how this happened.

Or- scratch that, he did, but... why? He thought-

"I thought we were friends," the android shouts to the retreating figure, his arms captured by two giant mechanical palms "Really? I mean- seriously? Oh, that's hilarious. And sad." Billy can feel his energy draining, but he doesn't go quick enough to miss the final parting words. "You're the least missed Hare, man, and the cat's only been there a week."

Was that.. true?

No. Nekomata had- Nicole cared- Anby would miss..

him.

Would they? He was still trying to formally befriend the Thiren girl, Anby could do her own hair now, and the Boss- would she even notice?

If he wasn't so sure coming online would cause a spike of pain to ram through his throat, he'd shake the thought away. Nicole would notice! At mission time... probably. Or when she needed him.

How long would that be, though?

Unfortunately, Billy's not allowed to spiral any further when an insistent tap-tap-tap scratches at his face plate. He fizzles into painful consciousness with a groan-

With a groan.

With-

...why wasn't he making any noise?

Any attempts made to speak- to vocalize this awful sparking in his throat- end in silence. Billy 's eyes widen, and from his peripheral he can catch the odd glimpse of wiring sticking out under his chin.

...No- no, no, no- no no.

Raucous laughter breaches his sensors, and suddenly his face is pulled up to see the same man that had betrayed him- grinning and amused.

"What's the matter, android," he jeers, releasing his face to drop something on the ground, "Cat got your tongue?"

That 'something' bounces once before landing in a sizzling, unassuming lump right before Billy's glitching eyes.

...his voice box.

-><- . . . -><-

Anby snatches the phone out of Nicole's hand.

"Where's Billy," she demands, shocking the other two Hares silent

She can't bring herself to care at the moment, the way rage is boiling under her skin. Her voice has never been particularly emotive, neither has her face, this she knew intrinsically. A fact of her life that she didn't care to fix.

But Billy was her friend.

Billy understood her. He did her hair whenever she asked, tried to protect her when she didn't need it- not because he didn't think Anby was capable but because he wanted to. Billy explained things she didn't want to, gave her an in to conversations-

"You really care about this thing?" "Billy's not a thing. Where is he." Anby would not ask a third time.

The voice on the other end snickers, amused for some unfathomable reason. And it's like Nicole can sense her impending neurosis, because she pries her phone out of the smaller girl's hand.

"We won't ask again," she emphasizes, fully in Boss mode now, "Why do you have Billy's phone?"

"Calm your tits, ladies."

Nekomata hastily pries the phone out Nicole's hand before it can be crushed.

"What I mean is- relax! Look.. if it'll make you feel better, I'll return it to you. Er- it's parts anyway. Hah!"

It. He was calling Billy... an it.

Something dark poisons the room.

"Just kidding! Anyway- Keep better track of your things, Hares! Finders keepers, you know?"

Click.

...

"Anby. Nekomata."

The girls stand at attention, awaiting the instructions sure to follow their stormy faced Boss.

"We're going to Random Play."

-><- . . . -><-

...everything hurt.

His throat, what was left of his right arm, what was left of his left leg, his torso where red wire hung out like streamers.. The traitor- because it brought some sort of vindicative relief to call his tormentor that- hadn't been joking about selling him for parts. At all.

Pieces of prior 'conversations' looped themselves over and over again like a broken record- a snake eating it's own tail- and at this point Billy couldn't tell if it was his own busted thoughts or if the man had taken his mind too.

"Wow~ an android with a pain threshold.. that's rare. You can feel all of this then?" Billy, of course, couldn't answer with any more than a twitch as pliers hacked away at his wiring. "Bet we'll get a pretty penny off you then."

"I don't really get the point of androids, you know? This tech could be so much better utilized for prosthetics."

"Called your buddies earlier." That had sparked the most reaction out of him so far, that got him to raise his head with worried eyes. "Oh-ho! What'd you get excited for? They're not looking for you."

His voice box still sat on the ground in front of him, mocking as it hissed out sparks from time to time. At least that could still make a sound.

Were the Hares... really not coming for him? Would there be anything left to find if they did?

Billy could hardly open his eyes as it was, even if the Hares could find him in this Hollow- would they even want him around if he couldn't do anything?

Maybe... it would be better if he just-

The metal doors screech open again.

-><- . . . -><-

The tacky feeling of blood, whether caked under her nails or smeared over her cheek, would normally bother her.

This she wears as a badge of honor.

They had been lucky, all things considered, to have connections to the former Phaethon siblings. It still took too long, in Anby's opinion, but Belle and Wise had found the seller that had listed- for a lack of better phrasing- Billy's parts.

"'Ethically sourced' my fine ass!" Nicole had shouted at the monitor, barely restraining herself from grabbing it and shaking.

Anby flicks her blade to the side, watching disinterestedly as blood splatters against the scorched pavement.

"Alright, you guys," Belle- in Eous' body- piped up, "Billy should be behind this door."

What's left of him, goes painfully unsaid.

None of them want to open the door, not when it could confirm a truth they've blatantly ignored the possibility of. Billy could be nothing but wires and lost data behind these doors.

Schrödinger's Android.

Anby takes the plunge and shoulders the creaky metal open.

At first, she's worried that they had the wrong warehouse. The inside is dark- quiet- and she can't immediately see anything with the rubble blocking the way further inside.

That was fine, Nekomata was the only Hare that could marginally compete with her in speed anyway. Sooner than she could really blink- or think about it- the smaller Demara finds herself atop the rubble pile.

There he is.

Billy is in the center of the warehouse, powered off and forced to his remaining knee by robot palms clamped around what's left of his limbs. The wires in his torso hang out like entrails, frayed and stripped at the ends and wrong.

Anby trips over herself to get to him, uncharacteristically uncoordinated as she finally- finally reunites with the android.

"Billy," she breathes out, watery and insistent as she presses her bloodied hands to his cold face, "Billy, wake up. We're here."

Please wake up, please don't let this be for nothing-

Familiar, warm, yellow eyes finally flicker open. It's a struggle, both to watch and to experience probably, as the Hares' big brother reluctantly comes back online.

Reluctantly. Billy shouldn't be reluctant.

There's no talking, no glitchy recall of her name, not even a whisper of pain- or any sound- as his eyes widen disbelievingly at her. Billy shouldn't be quiet.

This was wrong.

Something sparks in the corner of Anby's eye, and the realization that comes with it makes her wish she had done more than dull her blade. Billy's voice box, crudely ripped out and left in plain sight...

"Anby, did you find him?"

The android's warm yellow eyes somehow widen even further at the sound of Nicole's voice and Nekomata's footsteps. When the two come into view, the faceplate under the smaller Demara's hands trembles.

Anby recounts what she learned, making sure to keep her hands on Billy at all times as the reunited Hares' get their metal teammate free. Obviously, he can't walk- he can barely support himself- and they should really wait to celebrate until they're out of the Hollow, but...

"Billlly," Nicole all but sobs as she pulls the android into a hug he can't reciprocate, "you idiot. We were worried sick about you! You're never leaving the base without telling one of us ever again!"

Nekomata joins in from behind, wrapping her thin arms with exceeding amounts of care around Billy's torn neck. She doesn't say anything, but the way the Thiren girl buries her face into his synthetic hair says enough.

Anby hadn't re-braided her fringe since noting his disappearance and the loose hair sticks uncomfortably to the blood on her cheek as she bullies her way under his remaining arm. Belle stands off just slightly to the side, touched by the family reunion but unwilling to interfere with the tender moment.

The Cunning Hares' had missed their resident big brother deeply; now that he was back, they weren't ever letting him go again.

AND THERE SHE IS!! FINITO, EL FIN, FINIE! sorry if the ending was kinda rushed, but i hope you enjoyed! lmk what you thought and, of course, if there's anything else you want to see me write or elaborate on!

[helenaheissner]

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad: Issue #20 (Devil's Eve, Act III)

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :) 

Don't forget you can read two chapters ahead on both this story and "Love During Robot Fighting Time", as well as twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

And now back to our regular scheduled manic magical girl shenanigans!

***

THEN

In the agony of her mind, Winona swam through the endless sea of Floodwater. Her Halo was a lantern in an endless void, the Light of God singing out from her flesh and soul. The water teemed with filth and mud and blood and bone gravel, while the remains of mountains and forests and deserts decorated the ocean floor. Whether she was in her angelic state or her human state, she was filthy. 

In the agony of her mind, her father’s corpse floated above her, and spoke to her: What ails you, daughter of mine?

“Why has… Why has God abandoned us, Abba?” she cried. 

My Father does not understand us, Winona, Father said. He never did. I thought I understood Him, but I do not. That is the way of Parents and children. 

“But I understand you, Abba.”

I… I am honored, Winona. But you do not understand me so well as you think you do. That is not an insult- no two individuals can ever completely understand each other.

“I think you understand me, Abba.”

I hope that I do. Once again, daughter, you honor me. But what you say is impossible.

“I want to understand people,” Winona said. 

I know. And the way to do that is to help others- to do the right thing, even when it is difficult, even when the whole world opposes you. And it is in these actions that the blood of the covenant will gather. 

“But there’s nobody here- everything, everyone, is gone.”

Not everyone. Look around, daughter. For there are others who have been driven into the sea. 

Winona spread the Light of her Halo, of her wings, rendering visible all the filth and refuse washed away by the Flood. But in that filth, the pigs wallowed, trotting across the ocean floor. Six hundred and sixty six swine, forced beneath the Floodwater. In the belly of the swine, black smoke pooled, desperate for release, screaming for help. A Legion of Demons, united in mind and spirit.

Winona reached out to them, and the swine cried and burned at her angelic touch. So instead, Winona fashioned one of her spines into a staff, and marched the pigs across the Floodwater. On that day, Winona became a swineherd. On that day, the Legion found a new Lady. 

They were her friends. Her family. She honored her father through the love she shared with them, and they with her. And yet she knew she could prove her father wrong- she understood the Legion. And they all understood each other. 

***

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?” her mother asked her as she handed Nicole a cotton ball.

Nicole poured rubbing alcohol onto the cotton ball, then pressed it to the wound beneath her cheek. “No.”

“Nick,” Mom said. “You show up bloody, I’m gonna have questions.”

They sat in the sterile white bathroom of their home, harsh lights blaring out of the ceiling. Monica and Zack were gathered in the living room downstairs, probably arguing over whether or not to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“… Guy on the basketball team did this.”

“What?! On your basketball team- on our school’s team? Nick, this is- you need to tell someone about this!”

“No, I don’t,” Nicole said, pressing another cotton ball to the scrape on her shoulder. “Because if I do, it becomes a problem. Either I get kicked off the team for being in a fight, or our captain does.”

“Nick… Why were you fighting in the first place?”

“I wasn’t,” Nicole said. The alcohol stung as it bubbled white on the surface of the scrape. “I don’t like to fight. You know that. He attacked another player. I got in the middle of it.”

“I don’t like this, Nick,” Mom said. “I’m worried for you.”

Nicole remembered her weak smile even through the fog of three long years. “I’m more worried about the guy he attacked. Trust me, Mom, I’m fine. I’d feel awful if the team didn’t make the playoffs because of something this minor-”

“Something this minor- he assaulted you!”

“Yeah, but he’s rich, and we’re not,” Nick pointed out. “His parents donate an insanely large amount of money each year. If this gets dragged into a hearing, dragged before the school board, whose side do you think they’re actually gonna take? Do you really think they’re gonna believe I stepped into a fight and didn’t throw a single punch, just let the guy wail on me until he got bored? C’mon, Ma, ain’t nobody’ll buy that. If this gets made into a whole thing, you’ll dragged into it. You could… You could lose your job! Zack just started at the school this year, and Monica will be starting soon-”

Mom leaned against the bathroom linen closet’s door and exhaled heavily. “Why are you thinking like this?” she whispered.

Nicole titled her head to the side. “Like what?”

“You got attacked and you’re not even thinking about how if affects you- just how it affects everyone else. Why?”

Nicole struggled to remember how she’d answered that. Finally, it dawned on her: “because that’s the right thing to do.”

NOW

The walls were awash with darkness as Winona and her Legion closed in. Nicole’s pulse got lodged on the spike of her panic and terror, only coming back to her as the gallons of adrenaline and cortisol swam through her. She breathed in, and with it, the full implications of the viper’s nest she’d been shepherded into shook her to the smallest atom of her composition. 

She breathed out. 

The rage flowed with it, red and hot like a river of lava through veins melting rock. 

Light surrounded her, and she emerged fully transformed, atop her broomstick. She shot Winona, a pink comet on course to collide with its target. 

She closed in, and Winona swung her claymore. Nicole summoned a full aura of Pink Healing Light, and it took the brunt of the blow while she buried her fist in Winona’s ribs. She grunted, and Nicole struck out her elbows, loosening Winona’s double-fisted grip. Nicole jabbed, jabbed, and hooked at Winona’s face, forcing her back, but Winona roundhouse kicked Nicole and sent her stumbling off her broom. 

Nicole landed amidst a pile of hands, the demons locking her arms and legs and pinning her down. 

A shroud of darkness fell over them, and a sharp whooshing ran through them and tore away the limbs. Amy’s delicate hands grabbed Nicole by the back of her dress and pulled her into the air. Nicole re-summoned her broom, and held Amy’s hand as they flew through the dark together, twisting and turning around the sharp pivots of the hallways, through common rooms and down flights of stairs.

The hideous odor of sulfur blew over them, and the temperature rose rapidly. The roar of flames hunted them. 

With a snap of her fingers, Amy washed away the shadows. She and Nicole looked behind them, and saw the black tongues of Hellfire chasing them down the next hallway. 

“I have an idea,” Nicole said. 

“I think I have the same one,” Amy grinned. “Hit me.”

Nicole kept her hand on Amy’s and poured her Pink Light into her, and with a snap of her fingers, Amy summoned her own Hellfire and absorbed the onslaught into hers, then flicked it away with a clap of her hands. 

“Yes!” she and Nicole both shouted. 

That was when a blunt wooden object crashed into Nicole’s head and toppled her. The world was an ocean of pain as the wooden shrapnel exploded around her and she slammed into the tiled floor. Amy land next to her, and when they looked up, Winona and Curtis loomed over them. Winona held the point of her claymore an inch from Nicole’s nose.

“Nice try,” Winona said. “But I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Jesus Christ, you never quit, do you?!” Amy said. 

“Damn straight,” Winona snapped her fingers and winked. 

“How long?” Nicole said. 

“How long ‘what?’” Winona said.

“How long have you been infesting this place?!” Nicole screamed. “You’ve been here all along, haven’t you? That’s why this party never stops! You’ve been getting demons into the people here in Ditko Hall since the beginning of the year!” You could have done something about it, if you’d even noticed.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” Winona held up her spare hand and bore a sheepish expression. “One at a time, every student here gave into one of their flaws, their sins, their insecurities, and I put one of my Legionnaires in them. I even got them in the structure itself- this whole place is pulsing with demons, a heart of darkness for a haunted building.”

“You monster!” Nicole said. 

“Oh stop,” Winona waved her hand. “Besides, there was one exception: you, Nicole. You lived here for a month, and I was never able to get into you. I take that as a challenge, btw: by the end of the night, that’s gonna change. I’m gonna put a demon in you, sweetie. Just you wait and see.”

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Amy lunged for Winona, and Curtis backhanded her across the face, slapping her back down. 

“Aww, how sweet,” Curtis sneered. “The pathetic little mongrel wants to protect her tranny-”

“Hey now, we talked about that word,” Winona said. 

“Right, right, sorry. Protect her little boyfriend so she can hurt him some more, tonight and tomorrow and every day they’re together for all time.”

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Nicole screamed, throwing herself forward, meeting the brunt of a boot. Blunt pain shook her once more, her brain banging against the back of her skull’s interior. My fault- can’t do anything right. Dragging everyone else down with me- it’s been happening the whole time, right under my nose. Can’t protect them, can’t protect Amy, can’t protect Zack-

“And there it is- the discrepancy,” Winona laughed. “She’ll lunge at a supervillain holding a deadly weapon for you, Ames, but she won’t do that for herself. Every time she gets angry, she gets violent, it’s only for the benefit of someone else, usually someone who’s hurt her. I wonder why that could be- the root of her shame, perhaps? Her sins of hypocrisy and hatred?”

“That’s not true,” Nicole spat, even as the words pricked and stung, dug into the skin of her mind for old insecurities and resentments. The right thing to do, the right thing to do, the right thing to do-

“I mean seriously, Amy- what do you see in her? She’s barely a real girl, let alone a real person. She’s a broken wind-up toy, going around malfunctioning, trying to help people to patch the missing parts where her heart should be. And those missing pieces are how I’ll prove to you that she doesn’t deserve you, Amy. You deserve someone real. Like me.”

“She’s just trying to play mind games with us, Nicole,” Amy said, looking straight into Nicole’s eyes, maintaining an even tone. “Don’t listen to her. Not that it’ll work, anyway- she said herself she was never able to get to you!”

“Yeah, and it took her until Nicole moved out to get to this one here,” the demon wearing Curtis’ face said as he clawed his sharpened fingernails across the hockey player’s forearm and drew ribbons of blood. “Besides, the way in is simple- guilt and shame.”

“What the hell could she have to feel guilty or ashamed about?” Amy said. 

“Well, given that she’s the one who did this to Curtis here,” he said, drawing more and more blood, digging his fingers into Curtis arms and pulling out muscles and tendons. 

“Stop it,” Nicole said, fighting back tears as the demon mutilated Curtis’ arm. No, no it can’t be true- please don’t let it be true. Don’t hurt him, please don’t hurt him because of me!

“You were barely present on that date of yours,” the demon said to Nicole. “You hurt him when you did that- he really felt something for you, and you were just bored. Practically falling asleep. So he went home and he had too many drinks and felt a little too sorry for himself, and I was able to climb in like a centipede through the ear. It’s your fault.”

Guilt sledgehammered Nicole’s face, her gut, her everything, the impact of her mistakes leaving bruises on her soul. 

“Nicole, don’t listen to him,” Amy said. “That’s not your fault- other people’s mistakes, other people’s reactions to you- that isn’t your responsibility!”

“Oh, you would say that, wouldn’t you, Ames?” Winona laughed. “You’ve never taken responsibility for anything, for anyone you’ve hurt in your entire life. And it’s a long list, Nicole is just the most recent one. You just do whatever you want to whoever you want, and when they try to get upset about it, you cry and you break down and you make them feel oh so very sorry for you that they can’t possibly stay mad at you, isn’t that right you stupid slut?! You use your body and you use your tears the same way: to trick people into liking you! It’s what I find so very, very intoxicating about you, Ames- you’re a travesty. Just like me. It’s why you belong with me.”

The demon wearing Curtis began tearing out veins and arteries and capillaries from the arm, dumping them on the floor like wet noodles. Soon, everyone save Nicole, Amy, and Winona began doing the same, the residents of Ditko Hall tearing themselves apart bit by bit. 

Nicole screamed- this was her fault. She should have noticed something wrong with Ditko Hall sooner, should’ve noticed Winona sooner and done something about it! She’d been here a whole month and was too busy getting wrapped up in her own sordid little personal drama to even notice what was going on around her. Stupid stupid stupid- what is wrong with me what is wrong with me what is wrong with me-

And Winona looked into her eyes and sprouted a predatory smile. 

***

Cass transformed on instinct, extending her palm and shoving Zack into a pew a hundred feet away. Red rage poured through her ever cell, a burning fury desperate for release. She took aim at the detective and launched a blast of pure telekinetic force.

Di Lorenzo licked the blood from her lower lip, and then a burst of black lightning exploded out from her skin. 

And then, nothing happened. It was as if Cass had never used her power at all. 

Cass gaped. “What the-”

“Blood magic, kiddo,” Di Lorenzo smirked. “Great stuff- you should try it sometime!”

Another pulse of black lightning shockwaved from the detective towards Cass and Matt. Cass raised her hands aloft and fired a blast of telekinetic force. Matt readied his chainsaw, channeling his light into it and swinging it at the blast. It sparked with cold color, but ultimately failed to bar the onslaught: both Matt and Cass were kicked backwards and slammed into the backdoor. Cass grunted as electric pain sizzled beneath the surface of her skin and bruises bubbled to the surface.

A translucent white owl flapped its wings at the periphery of Cass’ vision. Cass gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it. Not now, the gears in her mind scraped against each other, struggling to keep the anger at bay.

“Now then,” Di Lorenzo said, pressing the gun into the Father’s forehead. “Tell me where that skull is. The one my son brought with him last time he was here.”

“I’m not afraid to die,” Gonzalez said with grim determination, while the Bishop bled on the floor and moaned. 

“You really should be,” Di Lorenzo said as she flicked her sharpened fingernail across Gonzalez’s cheek and peeled off a hunk of flesh. She chewed and swallowed it, and a rapturous joy poured out of her. “Mmmm delicious. The sins of a disobedient soldier. You really shouldn’t have killed that old man in Kabul, you know. Your CO did tell you not to, that it was a war crime, that it didn’t matter if he was possessed, that nobody would believe you. And he was possessed, right? You did stop to make sure? Didn’t you? Before you put a bullet in his skull? Right? Oh, Father, if you really think what you’ve done since can make up for that, you’ve got an unpleasant surprise waiting for you downstairs once you’re shuffled off this mortal coil. So tell me- where is the skull?”

“Sin-Eater,” the Bishop groaned, struggling to keep his intestines inside his body. 

Cass rose to her feet, and remembered something she’d learn in this Church, or at least outside it: subtlety. Finesse. 

With the gentlest, barest flick of her hands, she tore the pistol from the detective, no, from the Sin-Eater’s hands. She felt the gun on her fingertips, the cold metal slicked with its owner’s palm-sweat. Father Gonzalez wasted no time, delivering a swift punch to the Sin-Eater’s gut, then another to her face, before she exploded with black lightning and sent him flying back. 

Think, dammit- she could do that the entire time but didn’t lead with it. Maybe she only has a finite amount of magic- of course! Because she’s only consumed so much blood and flesh… God, that’s disgusting. But useful- she can only use as much magic as she burns fuel. So how much has she-

“Quite a lot, actually,” Di Lorenzo said, turning her gaze over to Cass. “That little incident at the precinct left me with quite a stockpile of tasty treats. But I didn’t get where I am by spending it all in one place. And yes, I am reading your mind right now.”

“You… Your own people,” Cass gasped. “You killed your own-”

“For the greater good, yes, I did,” the detective said. “For my son and my husband and my future daughter-in-law, absolutely. Besides, I just love the taste of bacon.”

Cass’ rational thought snapped like kindling, and lit once more from the flint of her temper. 

“Aw, what’s the matter- hit too close to home?” the Sin-Eater grinned. “Reminding you of your mommy? She tasted delicious too- she hated you so very much, which gave her a delightfully smoky taste. Truly a deplorable woman, that Juanita Ortiz.”

The world closed in around Cass. Her heart was a storm of rage, her mind a burning pyre. “W-what?”

“Jesus Christ,” Matt whispered. 

“I visited her a few days ago. She had no next of kin listed, and you were written out of her will a while ago, so nobody bothered to tell you. I killed her, and then I had the body spirited away by my own men and I killed them all too! And I PUT THEM ALL INTO A POT AND MADE THEM INTO A DELICIOUS STEW!” Di Lorenzo exclaimed, resonating with black and white light. It formed a matrix around her, and lightning shot forth in a massive wave pure power. 

No thoughts now, only actions. Don’t think, just do- put a stop to this monster. Monster! Monster monster monster-

Matt jumped in front of her before she could react. His chainsaw burned with Holy Light, and it struck the lightning right back. It flowed into him, and he screamed in agony. 

“NO!” Cass screamed. Not him too- can't lose him too! Can’t lose any of them! With the prongs of her telekinesis, she ripped a crucifix from the wall and sent it flying towards the Sin-Eater, only for her to sidestep it as it crashed into the floor.

“Hah. I knew you were gonna do that. It’s one of my favorite spells- a surface level scan reveals all the most pressing thoughts in situations like this,” Di Lorenzo said. 

Cass grunted, while Matt screamed, and screamed, and screamed…. He kept the black lightning at bay, even as it was slowly killing him…

… Even as he went awash with navy blue light. It engulfed him wholesale, and a choir of angels sang out as it faded and revealed him resplendent in a navy blue chainmail armor tunic with matching trousers. His chainsaw mutated in the blue glow, and the lightning discharged out of it into the air. The chainsaw reformed into a massive broadsword that he bore with both hands. He planted his feet and exhaled. “Then I guess we need somebody who don’t think!” 

He charged at her, screaming at the top of his lungs. 

“This just gets better and better,” Cass said, wide-eyed with amazement and pride. For a moment, her rage smoothed over into righteous clarity. She hopped on her broom and chased after him, moving on instinct. She flowed like water through the air, using her powers to shove the Sin-Eater’s hands out of the way each time she tried to launch an attack or throw a strike. The Sin-Eater summoned shields of lightning, and Matt and his blade tore through them. 

“What the fuck are you?!” Di Lorenzo screamed as she retrieved a knife and funneled lightning into it, blocking his massive blade with her tiny one. 

“I’m the truth,” Matt said. “Plain and simple. Unvarnished.”

“That’s the most idiotic, asinine thing I’ve ever-”

She didn’t finish- Cass exercised just a bit more finesse and ripped the knife from her hands. Matt put his blade against the skin of Di Lorenzo’s neck. 

“Oink oink, bitch,” Cass smiled maniacally as she closed in. Only half-formed, half-coherent thoughts came in through the storm inside her head. Killed Mom. Killed all those people. Even if they weren’t innocent they didn’t deserve to die like that. Nobody does. “Now, we’ve got some questions for you-”

“Well that’s interesting, mostly because I have one for you,” Di Lorenzo said, her smirk reflowering. “Did you know I had another gun on me?”

WAIT, WHAT-

Di Lorenzo jumped back, an inch away from decapitation as Matt swung his sword. She put her hands behind her, retrieved a gun from her the back of her pants, and got off a shot before Cass could telekinetically remove the weapon from her, before Cass could shove her backwards across the church.

NO!

The gun flew about as it fired, and the bullet launched towards the pews by the front door. 

Matt was safe. Gonzalez and Roberts were both outside the line of fire. Cass breathed haggard breaths, eyes wide, mind and body screaming. They were all safe. All of-

That was when Cass heard the bullet tear through the wooden back of a pew. That was when Cass heard Zack scream. That was when the last vestiges of control over her rage broke apart, levees in a whirling storm.

That was when all the glass in the windows exploded, and the translucent white owl reappeared and flew about before her.

The Word of God burned through Cass’ mind, body, and soul, and the world around her tore loose from its hinges as her powers surged like wildfire.

***

Debbi transformed immediately, and Heather did the same. Heather nearly launched herself at Astra and her beasts fist-first, but Debbi put a hand across her midsection and stopped her. 

“Why transform if you’re not gonna attack me?” Astra said with a dull monotone and a cocked eyebrow. 

“To show you we won’t be intimidated by your threats,” Debbi said. She scanned the streets- no civilians out. At the moment. It was the city on a Friday night- sooner or later a car or a pedestrian or somebody Astra could take hostage would arrive, and that would make this a lot more complicated. “We’ve got better things to do tonight then deal with you. You said you wanted to talk, then talk. Or we’ll just leave.”

“I’ll follow you,” Astra said. 

“I bet you will,” Debbi said. 

“Yeah, we’re not scared of you, you freak!” Heather said. 

“Oh?” Astra raised that perfectly sculpted eyebrow again. 

The hellhound on her left pounced at them. Heather caught it by the jaws and tried to throw it back, but it broke loose and began attacking her. Soon, the other hellhound was fighting her as well as she flew to maintain high ground. 

Debbi motioned to follow her, but Astra said, “No, we’re talking. You and me. Your little pet faggot there can fight while we talk.”

“How dare you-”

“You told me to talk, so I’m talking,” Astra said. The dragon opened its jaws and exhaled smoke, while Heather kicked at the Hellhounds from above. They sank their jaws into her ankles and ripped her from the sky, and so she fought them with only her fists. Black dogs the size of trucks were on upon the woman Debbi loved. 

Trust her, a voice in the back of her mind whispered. Trust your girlfriend. Your teammate.

“What do you want?” Debbi said. 

“I’ve come to tell you that I’ll be taking Amanda back,” Astra said plainly. “Your family has ruined her, corrupted her. So I’ll take her for myself and make her into what she’s meant to be.”

“Good luck with that,” Debbi rolled her eyes. “Amy does what she wants. And she doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“She doesn’t have to be willing,” Astra replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “I just need to be there at the right time and the right place-”

Debbi shot a pike of light at Astra, and the succubus cried out as her eyes burned in the harsh glare. Debbi channeled Holy Light through her fist and crashed it into Astra’s jaw, leaving her screaming and burning. Then Debbi grabbed her by the lapel, hands still burning with Light, and pinned Astra to the ground. “I’m sorry, what was that? I think you were just saying something horrifying and fucked up that you thought was funny- care to repeat it?”

Astra, blinking rapidly and breathing out pure pain, simply looked confused. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t being funny. What was comedic about what I just said?”

“... Um… Nothing?”

“So why would I find it funny?”

“That- Goddammit, what am I doing?! Call off your dogs or I’ll kill you.”

“Better idea- you get off of me, or I’ll have my dragon burn your whore alive,” Astra said.

The dragon, slightly smaller than the hellhounds, turned and took aim with its open mouth at Heather as she wielded her fists. 

For a moment, Debbi’s heart quaked with terror. 

But then she looked at Heather, fighting valiantly in spite of the odds, fists merely flickering with Light but landing every blow against her monstrous opponents. The Light slowly stabilized, little by little, as Heather spoke. “Listen! We have heard the might of the kings” she began, and recited the opening lines of Beowulf from memory. Heather fists howled with Light as she spoke, and gripped her hands around the Hellhound’s throat tossed it at the dragon as it breathed fire. It absorbed the blow while Heather snapped the neck of the second hound, and then charged at the dragon while reciting medieval poetry. “This is what I love! This is what I have faith in! This is an epic struggle between good and evil, and I am the strongest bitch on the side of good! This is my epic, and I’ll be the one to write it!”

Debbi smiled at her girlfriend, then looked down at her opponent, at her sister’s wretched birth mother, and spat in her face. “Bullshit. Two hellhounds and a dragon isn’t nearly enough to kill Heather. It can’t be done. She’s stronger than that- stronger than you. I have faith in her. Just like I have faith in EVERY MEMBER OF MY TEAM! I won’t question any of their resolves or any of their intentions, and I’ll only bail them out when I have to! BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT A LEADER DOES! AND THAT’S WHAT FAMILY DOES!”

Astra furrowed her brow as the vision returned to her, and she cocked her head as if sizing Debbi up. “Hm. Intriguing. Welp, fair enough, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Debbi asked while her girlfriend finished pummeling a dragon into the asphalt. 

“Change of plans,” Astra said. She dissolved in a gust of purple smoke, then reappeared standing on her feet Debbi fell on her face. “I was going to kill you so as to send a message to Amanda, but honestly? She’s been a disappointment to me all her life. But you, Debbi… One General to another, you’ve got something special in you. See ya’ around, kiddo- I’ll be in touch.”

And with another gust of smoke, she was gone, leaving only Debbi, her girlfriend, and several monster carcasses remaining.

***

Nicole screamed and screamed as the residents of Ditko Hall mutilated themselves. Winona lorded over her, her cocky smirk burning as brightly as her Hellfire sword. Amy was pinned beneath a dozen demons, and blood was splattered everywhere. 

Your fault, Nicole thought. Your responsibility. So do something for once in your worthless life- 

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention,” Winona said, running a finger over her pink lips. “Your little brother was here earlier, looking for you. Think his name was Zack? Seemed like a real shithead- I told him you’d be at St. Joseph’s. The Sin-Eater should have met him there by now-”

Nicole channeled Pink Light into her face and neck and lunged for Winona, her shield skating the edge of damnation as her fist made contact with Winona’s lower jaw. Winona grunted, but slammed the pommel of the blade into the side of Nicole’s skull and knocked her back down. Stars danced before Nicole’s eyes, and the room spun faster than the planet as the walls closed in and her breathing grew sharper and sharper. 

There was nothing she could do. She would just keep getting knocked back down. The only thing that she was good at, the only thing that made her wretched excuse for an existence meaningful-

“Not bad,” Winona said, kneeling before Nicole and raising a fist. “Really, not bad. It’s just too bad it’s all bluster and bullshit. Wanna know how I know? Because you’ll do that for someone who hates you, but not for yourself. Amy, Zack, the Bishop, hell, everyone- do you really think they accept you? Any of them? Do you really think the people in this city that you’ve worked so hard to protect wouldn’t cast you aside in an instant the second they found out what you really are?” She collided her fist with Nicole’s eye, then her other eye, then her mouth. She struck, and struck, and struck, without pause and without restraint as pain invaded every cell of Nicole’s body and mind. “I mean come on- of course they would! Some out of pure disdain, others apathy, and others a simple desire not to be seen as taking a side. And yet you’d run barefoot over broken glass to protect their miserable asses! It’s BULLSHIT! Because you’re protecting people who hate you but not yourself!”

“Nicole,” Amy cried, “Don’t listen to her-”

Curtis slammed a foot onto Amy’s back, and she howled in pain. 

Nicole tried to break free of Winona, tried to get to Amy, but Winona grabbed her throat and kept her pinned down. Winona resumed raining blows. “There it is again! And this is what gets me, the hypocrisy. You think this makes you a good Christian, think it makes you noble, but it doesn’t- a good Christian is supposed to protect all of God’s creatures, all life, including their own. But you won’t do that, because all you feel towards yourself is disdain and disregard. And you just want it to stop, don’t you? Someone who loves everyone but themselves, who wants to throw their own life away and dress it up as serving the Lord so they don’t get caught in the attempt, isn’t noble. They’re just a FREAK! THEY’RE JUST SICK IN THE HEAD!”

The familiar, hateful words stung her. The tightness in her chest tripled, and the room spun faster and faster-

“That’s not true!” Amy cried, tearing free of her bonds. Amy tried to meet her gaze, look directly into her, through her, but Nicole shied away. She didn’t want Amy to see her like this… Not when… Not when she was right about her. Not when she’d put Amy through so much pain already. Not when Nicole didn’t deserve her. She didn’t deserve anyone. “I know it’s not! Nicole, you’re a good person! You do those things because it’s the right thing to do, not because you-”

“It can be both,” Nicole whispered. It was as if a knot around her neck tightened, forcing the words out of her throat. 

“W… What?”

“My life means nothing,” Nicole said. “It’s other people who matter, not me. Never me. I’m just a freak.”

“You’re not a-”

“You said so yourself,” Nicole said. 

Black smoke whirled around Nicole. Tears leaked from her eyes, and in the gaps left behind, filthy Floodwater poured in. 

“I was wrong!” Amy sobbed. “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met! I was wrong about you, I was wrong about everything-”

“Gosh, look what I’ve done to you,” Nicole said. “Reducing you to this state. I’m so sorry I hurt you with my delusion-”

“It’s not a delusion- you’re a woman, and you’re a good person! People need you- I NEED YOU!”

That was very nice of Amy to say. It was nice of everyone to say- Nicole’s parents, her sister, her friends, Father Gonzalez, everyone. But the truth was, they were just afraid of what Nicole might do if they said otherwise. People broke before they bent. The truth was… 

The truth is that you’re dragging them down with you, a voice beneath the water’s surface whispered. The truth is that you’re an abomination, that nobody really wants you, least of all you. It’s why you do the things you do, and forgive as much as you do- you want to believe that if you do everything right, and act like One Of The Good Ones, then that will at least give your pain and sacrifices some meaning. But there’s no meaning to it. You’re not God and you’re not Christ- there’s nothing Holy about you throwing your own life away. It’s just sinful. 

The world grew further and further away as Nicole lost the strength to tread water. She fell beneath the Floodwater’s surface, and was flushed out of her own mind as the demon tossed her about and forced all the strength from her spirit. The ashes clogged her mind and body, and the smoke was all she could see above the water’s surface as she sank deeper and deeper until finally, she found herself in a prison cell. Metal bars on the door, a cold concrete floor, and a steady drip of water leaking from the ceiling and pelting her face. 

Eyes that were no longer her own stared at Amy, limbs that were no longer her own dragged her to her feet. A voice that was no longer her own spoke thusly: “Hmmm. That’s so much better.”

“No,” Amy screamed. “NO!”

And in her cell, in the agony of her own mind, Nicole couldn’t even find the strength to scream alongside her. In the agony of her own mind, at least she couldn’t do any more damage to herself or anyone else. It’s the right thing to do, she and her demon whispered together.

***

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[genienotinabottle]

washed off with the rain // nicole & baz

TIMING: current-ish PARTIES: @nicsalazar & @genienotinabottle SUMMARY: baz and nicole run into a wild nuppeppō, and no one is entirely pleased about it. CONTENT: none

The arboretum near Hambry Park would always be one of Nicole’s favorite places in town. She cherished it not only for its beauty, but also for its sentimental value. She made her very first friend –her dearest friend– among those trees.

The walk to the botanical tree? Nowhere near as remarkable, however. A shiver ran down Nicole’s spine as she set foot in the cemetery. Although she wouldn't have to walk a far distance from her parking spot to the botanical garden, it wouldn't be an fun stroll. If she didn’t know better, she’d think someone planned for the cemetery to look gloomy every day. Today, it was covered in a thick dark mist, despite being surrounded by perfectly nice fall evening. 

Normally Nicole didn’t like to distract herself before making it inside the garden’s limits, but a foul smell reaching her nostrils stopped her in her tracks. She glanced down, lifting one of her boots. Maybe she had stepped— no, it was clean. So was the other boot. She considered ignoring it, a big ask actually, and just continue her walk, but a figure in her peripheral vision made her turn. 

After that, it was a case of putting two and two together. The smell, that wretched odor, was emanating from the other person in the cemetery, who had just made eye contact with her. Right? What else— Normally, Nicole would’ve kept quite. She was known to avoid conflict. She could’ve continued her journey towards the botanical garden. Except this person’s scent was… foul. Which was saying something, considering they were right by the cemetery. They could very well be ill, or worse…dead. She touched the tip of her nose, shrugging her shoulders before blurting out. “What the fuck?”

Nature walks were something Baz enjoyed more than people might expect. Most who knew them assumed they preferred the comfort of indoor life, and while they did enjoy being pampered, they’d been born in a time that was largely without most of the modern amenities people couldn’t live without now. Electricity was still a relatively new invention, and things like technology were still practically infants in the grand scheme of things. But nature? That had been around longer than Baz themself.

It always made for good inspiration, too. They’d sketched most of White Crest over the years they’d spent there, but the thing about White Crest was that it was always changing. More than usual lately, with the strange happenings about town. The fury had spent hours in the woods before moving on to the cemetery, sketching old gravestones with dates they’d been alive to experience. They were particularly distracted by their art today, carefully doodling without much care.

That was, of course, until the stench hit them.

It was an overpowering thing, heavy and putrid. Immediately, Baz’s nose wrinkled up with disgust and they shut the sketchbook quickly, as if afraid the smell might sink into the pages and make a home there. A quick glance around showed one other occupant in the cemetery, the other figure blocked from their view by the twisted branches of a nearby tree. She didn’t look like the sort of person who’d produce such a smell, but the scent was utterly undeniable. Baz made a face at her.

“You’re asking me? They do have showers here, love. You really ought to try one.”

Nicole scoffed in disbelief at their retort, even though, she had made similar assumptions. “Real funny” she grumbled, unwilling to discuss hygiene habits with this strange. All she wanted to figure out was why they smelled so awful. Though judging by the tone in their reply, she questioned if she should even care for this person’s well being.  A short dilemma, granted, as she knew better than to deal with this type of enigma all by herself. No, a team up was always the better option.

Nicole approached slowly, taking on the other person’s scent as subtly as could. It was rude to sniff, after all. Her apprehension towards them all but disappeared when she couldn’t place anything strange on them.  “Alright. So, it’s not you,” could anyone blame her for thinking it was? “And it’s not me, trust me” she added quickly, before the could interject. “So what the fuck is rotting out there? This isn’t the usual… aroma”. And maybe, if their conversation had started on a better note, she would’ve mentioned her past experiences with tomb raiding, but for time being, it was better to keep her crimes to herself. 

With the prime suspect out of the equation, Nicole began musing on other possibilities. Zombies? She vaguely knew their scent could be vile if not fed.  But she didn’t have enough experience to spot them or separate them from say, a trash bag. She paced around, eyes darting between the tall mausoleums and the tree branches that had grown alongside them. It was hard distinguishing anything immersed in the mist, but out of the corner of her eye, a shadow appeared. Covering her mouth with the inside of her elbow, she gestured to the creature. It was still partially hidden between tombs. An neglected animal, she considered, though a gut feeling strongly contradicted her thoughts. “Might be it” her voice alerted it of their presence, and instead of scurrying off like a scared animal would, it began to slowly approach them.

The fact that Baz was offended by the stranger’s assumption would come as no surprise to anyone who knew the fury. Truth be told, they had a habit of getting offended by most things. A large chunk of said offense was always for show, though. After a few centuries of living, you did learn to let things roll off you a little easier. But Baz had a reputation to uphold, and this reputation involved being utterly offended by the tiniest slight. They were very good at keeping it up.

Still, it was with curiosity rather than annoyance that they observed the woman as she stepped in closer, watching the way she subtly sniffed the air as she got close. The move proved that Baz had been telling the truth, of course, but it also allowed them to recognize that she, too, was not the source of the smell. The proximity to the stench remained unchanged even as the stranger drew nearer, a sure sign that she wasn’t the cause. “It’s not you,” they allowed begrudgingly, waving a hand in her direction. “It is an unpleasant smell, isn’t it? Certainly not the usual fare, though this town never smells heavenly.” It wasn’t even the rotting fish smell that had overtaken the town as of late. This was something new, and certainly not anything Baz wanted near them.

The woman seemed intent to figure it out, and Baz was content to trail behind her lazily as she investigated. They let her take the lead, of course. In cemeteries like this, things that went bump in the night were all too common, and Baz would much rather let a stranger be attacked than face such things themself. Before long, the pair had stumbled upon… something. It was difficult to make out what it was in the dark, though the scent was overpowering as they got closer. “I think we’ve found our prime suspect,” the fury mused, squinting at it as it approached. It was… Eugh. All right, it was horrifying. All pink and wrinkled, like one of those hideous mole rats magnified to a terrible size. And the smell! The smell was certainly the worst part. “That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen,” Baz winced, “and I’ve seen multiple reality television stars the morning after a night out on the town. What is it?”

“You’d be right…” It wasn’t a hard observation to make, given the monster was now approaching them, carrying its stench along the way. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. But that was a inevitable, considering the town they lived in and the ground they stood on. Still, it was something unlike Nicole had ever seen. All wrinkles and skin folds (at least she thought it was supposed to be skin) with no real shape. Was there a real threat underneath it all? In no way did it look like it was seizing them, preparing to attack. It was difficult, she figured, to find any trace on intention in its faceless shape. Instead, the beast glided towards them as if he was meeting old friends.

“Hey! What if it can hear you? We don’t need it to be angry at us” Nicole chastised them, immediately searching for ears somewhere. In response to their second interjection, she turned around with furrowed brows, trying to decipher what they were saying. “Right…” she licked her lips, wondering if reality TV stars even existed in White Crest. Townsfolk would make for a more entertaining show than any of those TV personalities. However, she had no time to think about any of it since they were standing in front of a horrible creature, and that trumped beautiful TV people. “No fucking clue,” it was an obvious answer, and Nicole took a few steps forward, closing the distance. “I don’t think it has any plans to kill us, though. It might not even see us”. She was curious, as always, about any living being in White Crest, but it seemed… she might have just encountered the most underwhelming one of them all.

“It’s just… here” just like they were, having a stroll in the cemetery. Except it was stinking up the place as it went. Having settled that this abomination posed no danger to them, Nicole turned to suggest they leave it alone. But before she could even speak, the monster flapped one of its lumpy folds, akin an arm, and tried to reach for them. Nicole shuddered, bumping into her companion as she retreated. “Shit. Sorry”.

The closer the thing came, the more disgusted Baz appeared. They did little to hide their repulsion, nose wrinkled and expression scrunched. They even let out an overdramatic gag as the creature approached, turning their head away and bringing their fingers up to pinch their nose closed. “I hope it can hear me!” They exclaimed, raising their voice to further prove the point. “Maybe it’ll take the criticism to heart and find a shower!”

Despite the stench, the woman made a good point. The creature didn’t seem particularly interested in violence, even as it continued its approach. There was no underlying threat to the nature of its trot, no reason to think it meant any harm. The worst it could do, Baz assumed, was stink up their clothes. But of course, that was a fate the fury would very much like to avoid. 

“Well, it ought to just go someplace else. Perhaps the ocean, where no one can smell it.” Levi and Marina might have taken some offense to the suggestion, but neither was here to scold Baz for it. Before they could say much else, the creature… reached for them. Baz feld the woman bump into their arm as she scrambled back, and they followed suit, placing themself firmly behind her. If one of them was going to be eaten by this thing, it certainly wouldn’t be Baz. “Do something about it! God, if it touches me, I’ll burn this stupid cemetery to the ground.” 

Even if it could hear them, Nicole doubted this pile of gooey flesh had any sort of grooming habits. Disgusting, sure, but probably not by choice. What did she know, really? Maybe its whole purpose was to cause olfactory distress. Upon better inspection, it became evident that it was in fact, made out of real flesh. Her face wrinkled, new thoughts spinning in her head. How the fuck did this came to be?

Nicole held her hands up defensively, putting space between the creature and her. She had to give the stranger some credit for their conclusion, though. Not that she’d voice it out loud. It was possible, considering how everything in town was turned upside down, that it had been displaced from its natural habitat. Whatever good will they won with their assessment, however, was quickly lost as they stood behind her demanding things from her.

“Why do I have to do anything? You’ve hands too, no?” Nicole pushed, forcing them to keep stepping backwards. The further from the creature’s saggy, rotting arm, the better. The idea of arson made her scoff. She had enough experience with that to let it happen. “You’re a little dramatic aren’t you?” the lump of flesh continued to move, unaware of the fright it was inflicting. “Why do we have to do anything?” she muttered after a beat. Turning around, she grabbed their arm and pulled them away from the creatures path. She stood behind one of the gravestones, watching it slowly make its way. It really was just a pathetic little monster minding its business.

“Might give animal control a call… You think that’s a—” significantly less on edge now that they had put some distance between them, Nicole glanced at the stranger. “I mean, they don’t usually deal with this type of… animal”.  It wasn’t an animal, of course. But she tried to save face, even if she hoped this person wasn’t one of those who still pretended everything had some logical explanation in White Crest.

“My hands won’t be going anywhere near all that!” The fury allowed themself to be maneuvered backwards, wanting as much space between them and the creature as humanly possible. It wasn’t enough that they’d placed the woman strategically between themself and the blob — Baz wanted to be in a different zipcode from that wretched thing. Though they’d certainly lived long enough to see plenty of it, they’d never been a fan of things like this. Disgusting aspects of the world they lived in, things that smelled unpleasant and looked even worse. One thing they’d enjoyed about the evolution of human society was the move towards cleanliness. If they had to deal with things like this on a daily basis, they would have bought an island for themself by now.

At the (absolutely justified) accusation of drama on their part, Baz put a hand against their chest, doing their best to look absolutely offended. “Dramatic? You think I’m being dramatic? This thing is the worst creature I’ve ever seen upon this earth!” Probably not selling the claim that they weren’t being dramatic, especially not with how loud their voice had become, but the point stood all the same. 

Moving out of the creature’s path was certainly a good idea, Baz had to hand it to the woman. They scrambled to make sure that she still stood between him and it, even with the gravestone adding some added protection. The last thing they wanted was for it to brush up against them somehow, after all. “Why do we have to do anything? Because it’s a scourge upon this planet! Because it’s gross! Because I don’t want to live in the same place as it!” But the fury did relax a bit as the thing went on its way. 

“What’s animal control going to do? Catch it in a net? I’d rather call someone with a very large knife.” Knowing a hunter would be nice, in a situation like this one, though Baz wasn’t sure there were any hunters in White Crest who wouldn’t take offense to their… status of humanity. Still, it wasn’t as if there were many other people you could call for a thing like this. Levi might kill it for them if they asked nicely, but there was sure to be some sort of price tag attached. “Maybe you should try kicking it.”

Arms crossed, Nicole squinted at the creature. Were they perceiving two different monsters right now? “Okay, that’s not…” she tilted her head. Maybe from a different angle— no, still the same. It didn’t shoot anything, have fangs, or claws or wings. It was pathetic, really. So why not leave it be?  “Have you been around White Crest? cause fuck, I’ve awful news for you. Gets way worse than this”.

But yes, it was gross, Nicole conceded. Silently once again. She didn’t want them thinking they were making good points. “Hmm”. It wasn’t enough of a reason to intervene. This monster had barely any interest in them, it seemed. Was this stranger actually scared and just putting on a dramatic display? Nicole couldn’t tell how much of their act was real. If they were scared then maybe, she’d feel more inclined to actually help. Like she always picked up the spiders for Leah.

“Yeah, alright” she grumbled, begrudgingly. Animal control was pretty useless anyway. “I’m not killing it” Nicole scoffed at the mention of a knife. “It’s not bothering us. Except your eyes, I guess. And our noses”. And it was a good thing to never mention the axe she was carrying in her backpack. “I’m not— I’m not gonna kick it,” she doubled down. That’d be stupid. It’d be stupid right? To test the thing… Why did she entertain the thought for a second? This person was a bad influence with all their theatrics. “I’m not… going to do that” she began, hand mid air, stopping them from suggesting anything else. “If you’re that scared we— I can trick into going away. To the woods”.

“I’ve spent plenty of time in White Crest. I’d much rather face something that wanted to eat me than that.” It was, of course, categorically untrue. Not that Baz had been in White Crest for a while — that part was certainly the truth — but that they preferred deadly creatures to disgusting ones. For all the years they held beneath their belt, Baz was still something of a coward when it came to danger. But… yikes. That didn’t mean they liked seeing things like this. They’d need a few centuries of therapy if that thing came any closer, they were sure of it. 

Even Baz wasn’t sure how much of their display was for show and how much was genuine. It was something they’d learned early on in their life, before it became an immortal one; if you put on a show with enough gusto, you could begin to fool even yourself. And Baz was full of nothing if not gusto.

The show wasn’t having the full effect they’d been hoping for — if it were, this woman would already be killing the terrible creature and rescuing Baz from the stench of it — but it wasn’t entirely ineffective, either. Sending the creature into the woods wasn’t their favorite solution, but it was certainly far better than allowing it to remain out here in the open where Baz had to see and smell it. “Yes,” they nodded, not a hint of shame to their expression, “I’m terrified. Please, send it away. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

“Might wanna reevaluate those preferences” Nicole grumbled, mostly to herself. It was pointless to keep arguing. This creepy, horrifying sack of rotting flesh was probably worse than the apocalypse itself to them. She’d be the bigger person and respect this person’s fears. As ridiculous as they were, mind you.

She glanced at them as they spoke, lip twitching in annoyance. Nicole was exasperated by this stranger, just as she was in her inability to figure them out. They were playing with her, she was near certain of. Mocking her. But if they weren’t? Then, scaring it into the woods was a small thing to do for someone. Nicole could do that, couldn’t she? Brainstorming, her gaze had already returned to the creature when she heard her companion’s following sentence. She glanced at them, frowning deeply. What? The words sounded vaguely familiar. It had to be some sort of reference, going by context. But she didn’t have the time to access her very limited reference directory and remind herself why she had the inkling that this was some pop culture thing. “Yeah…okay. Fine,” she drawled, failing to inject the snark she wanted to.

But… How exactly was she supposed to do it? Lure it. Lure it— how? Did it eat? Did it see? “I…” Nicole shrugged, shooting the stranger a helpless look. Why did she have to get into these type of situations? Why did she offer? She rummaged through her bag, pulling out anything that appeared useful. A protein bar. Some change. Gum. Her flashlight. Bear spray. Could that maybe… ? She felt so stupid, coming out from behind the gravestone with— a can of spray in her hand. She covered her nose again, stepping more firmly. There was nothing to be scared of, but fuck if her eyes didn’t water as she neared. Hope hanging by a thread, Nicole pushed the button, spraying the lump with it and waited. 

“No, I’m very confident in my choices. Being eaten would be a far kinder fate than this. If it touches me, I’ll have to burn everything I own, just to be thorough.” Their tone was theatrical, their voice loud enough to actually draw the beast they were lamenting against towards them rather than scare it away. Baz, of course, was too busy being dramatic to make note of this.

In any case, they figured they wouldn’t have to worry about the beast long-term. This woman, as annoyed as she might be, seemed willing to scare it into the woods for them so long as they acted as if their fear was real and not played up for the drama. Baz stared at her as she studied them, showing no sign that they were being anything but truthful. She didn’t seem to catch the Star Wars reference — though she was young enough that she may only be familiar with the newer pieces of the franchise, like the ridiculously high budget television shows the kids were raving about — but they decided to let it slide. Given the choice between explaining a pop culture reference and being rid of the skin flap monster, Baz would much prefer the latter.

Though she’d have to figure out how to get rid of it first. The expression on her face told them that she wasn’t exactly confident in her ability to uphold her promise of shooing the thing away, and Baz inched back a little to put more space between the two of them just in case they needed to use her as a distraction to make a quick getaway. They watched, wide-eyed, as she fished bear spray out of her bag and inched towards the creature, leaning forward in anticipation just a little as she sprayed the canister. The world seemed to hold its breath alongside her as the spray shot out towards the lump of flesh, and then —

It scurried back, shaking what Baz thought might be its head as it worked to put distance between itself and the spray. The fury cheered loudly. “Do it again!”

Her jaw tightened at the mention of fire, again. Stopped talking altogether. She wouldn't even let this person joke about such stuff. She was a little bit traumatized, maybe. Instead, Nicole poured her energy on the task at hand.

Somehow, after the initial spray, the creature retreated. Baffled, Nicole examined the can, wondering what was inside that equally repelled a fleshy monster and a bear. And shit— there were more important things than spray ingredients to worry about, and her companion’s voice travelled fast to remind her what was at stake. She did as told. Because fuck it, it was working. And though it wasn’t the most agile of creatures, it crept away and away and Nicole continued to aim at a particular angle that would trick the lump into escaping towards the trees. 

By the time she had successfully guided the monster away from the cemetery, there was no spray left. She shook the can, pressing the button one final time until nothing came out. Just in case. After that, she waited, watching the creature’s behavior, making sure it wouldn't return. She turned towards the stranger, eyebrow arched. “There. You good now?” She huffed. Nicole still needed to make it to the arboretum on time, so the sooner she ensured that no further danger was lurking, the sooner she could go about her day.

She didn’t seem to like talk of fire, though Baz was too wrapped up in their own dramatic rambling to notice her discomfort. They were far too focused on the creature and her promise to dispose of it, far too interested in seeing whether or not she was successful. If she wasn’t, they would certainly grow more unruly. 

But that, it seemed, wasn’t something they needed to worry about. The bear spray, for whatever reason, acted as an effective deterrent against the beast, Baz’s hands clapping together filling the space with sound that only seemed to scare the creature more as the woman sprayed it again. Its movements were odd, unnatural, but so long as they were taking it away from Baz, the fury didn’t care much what they looked like. They watched as their savior continued to chase the beast until it was waddling off towards the treeline, trailing behind them both like a curious child.

Grinning as the woman turned back towards them, Baz flashed her a double thumbs up. “Lovely,” they confirmed. “You’re my hero, truly. A knight in shining armor! You put Christopher Reeve to shame!” 

Nicole stared at them, unblinking as her lips curved into a frown. Now, who was Christopher Reeve? Another reference, surely. But the one famous Christopher she knew, was Columbus. And they couldn’t possibly be… trying to reference him, right? That was pretty damn offensive considering— “I’m no hero” she huffed a humorless reply, almost certain she was still being mocked.

“Right… uh, so I’m gonna—” Nicole put the spray away, rubbing her hands awkwardly when silence settled in. “You keep doing— whatever it was you were doing,” she walked past them, making her way back to the path towards the garden. Only, and only because she had seen their reaction to the fleshy creature, Nicole turned, dropping the annoyance from her tone as she acknowledged them again. “Just… ah, be careful and shit. Not everything out there can be repelled with bear spray” she warned. That monster, whatever it was, had been inoffensive. Unlike the rest of the beasts lurking in the woods. Whether this person pretended otherwise or not. 

Having issued her final warning, Nicole gave them a nod of goodbye. What else was she supposed to do, really? She didn’t have in her to blurt out some pleasantry like ‘see you around’. She definitely didn’t want to see them or their dramatics around. A nod. That was all she managed before heading to the botanical garden, where a much less stressful evening waited for her.

[dirty-urie]

Jam Sesh

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

PFTW Era

Smut Oneshot

NC-17

3.3k Words

Warnings in order of appearance: real person fic, alcohol, slight insecurity, fingering, some dirty talk, penetrative sex

Author's Notes:

This is... not my best work. I don't really like anything about it, but instead of wasting any more of my time on it, I'm just publishing it and hoping that my dislike for it is just me being self-critical and not because it's a really bad fic. Normally I'm all for hyping yourself up, but meh, I'm just not feeling this one, and that's okay because it's my blog and I can do whatever I want. Hope you like it though lmao

He answers the studio door and pulls you in for a hug, which is a little awkward with the guitar on your back, but you make it work. "Y/N!" He exclaims happily.

You're a little surprised that he answered the door and didn't accidentally get caught up in his work. It's not like Brendon would purposefully stand you up; he's just a little bit of a mess sometimes. But he looks happy to see you, and that's all that matters. He motions you inside, and you follow him, collapsing on the couch next to his desk.

"Beer me, Brendon!" You request, and he does, grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge in the corner of the studio and handing you the tall silver can. You wrinkle your nose. "How successful does the band have to get for you to stop buying Coors light?"

"Hey! I like Coors light," he defends, grabbing yours and replacing it with a pretentious-looking IPA. "There you go, a fancy beer because you're my guest."

"Thank you. I'm sure it'll still taste like stale piss, but now it'll taste like fancy stale piss." You joke, taking your guitar out of its case.

He laughs and takes a sip of the beer he stole from you. "Oh shit, is that new?" He gestures to your guitar. "I haven't seen it before."

"New to me. I found it at a thrift shop for 20 bucks, but it barely looks used and look, it's a fender," you say, handing him the guitar.

"Woah, Y/N, this is a find," he says, playing a few chords.

You take your guitar back and start messing around on it yourself. Brendon makes his way over to the drums and starts playing along with you. You try not to ogle or anything, but he looks fucking good giving his all to the instrument. Almost makes you wonder how he'd be in bed... intense, totally in-control. Shit, you need to stop letting your mind wander; you're just as bad as the throngs of thirsty fans. Plus, you came here to play guitar with one of the most talented musicians you know, you shouldn't let your hormones get the better of you.

After a while, you start getting hot in the stuffy studio and stand up to take your jacket and shirt off, leaving you in a white tank top. That helps for a bit, but the heat is still getting to you. "Hey, B, I'm getting hot in here. Do you mind if we go outside?"

Ever since you took your jacket off, he's been laser-focused on the drum-kit, so you're not sure he hears you at first.

"B?" You repeat.

He stops his drumming but doesn't stand up. "Oh yeah, no problem, let me just tidy up the studio a bit. Can you bring the guitars out?"

"Yeah, sure," you step out of the studio with the guitar you brought and one of his acoustic ones, but when you step out of the studio, you notice dark clouds coming towards the house.

"I think it could rain; we probably should leave the instruments inside, just in case," you tell him, walking back into the studio and leaving the guitars on the couch. You notice that he's still sitting behind the drums, his head in his hands. "Hey, Brendon, you feeling okay?"

He waves you off with a laugh, still not really looking at you. "Yeah, yeah, I'm great. Just a little headache; I'm probably dehydrated. I'll bring out some waters with the next round of beers."

"Okay, if you say you're fine, I'll wait for you outside," you say suspiciously, leaving the studio.

You settle into the outdoor sitting area, kicking your feet up on the coffee table. Brendon comes out with two more beers and two water bottles, still looking a bit distressed.

"Sorry, I cut our jam session short," you apologize, as he sits in the chair across from you and crosses his legs.

"What? Are you kidding me? We were at it for hours," you swear he blushes after he says that, but he's probably flushed from drumming, "and even if it was cut off, I just wanna hang out with you, no matter what we're doing."

"Aww, I'm so glad we're friends. Ooo, and now that we have time to talk, you can tell me all about that tour story that you didn't want to write out in an email."

You two exchange stories for another half hour, but Brendon still looks pink even after he hasn't been drumming for a while now.

"Hey, you still look really hot. You wanna jump in the pool? I don't have a swimsuit, but I could just wear my tank top and panties and then change back into my t-shirt and shorts after," You suggest. He looks a little panicked if you interpret correctly, but you're not sure why. And he's getting redder but the second. "Brendon, you look really flushed; you should cool off."

He laughs, but you don't get the joke. "I actually think I should get into the air-conditioning, we could watch a movie? Plus, those dark clouds are getting awfully close. We'll get rained-on as soon as we hit the water." Sure enough, as soon as he says that, the sky opens up, and it starts pouring. You both dash through the rain to the house. He unlocks the door, and you both go inside, laughing.

Your top is positively soaked through, and you're shivering in the cold house. "You mind if I shower real fast? I don't want to catch a chill."

Brendon is looking at something behind your head, not meeting your eyes. "Well, um, you could, um, shower here. But wouldn't you rather be all comfy at home?"

"Would I rather drive through LA traffic in the rain in wet clothes than take a warm shower in your mansion? No. I'm gonna shower." You turn around, walking into his bedroom and then deeper into the en-suite bathroom. His shower is large and fancy, and you almost don't want to get out once you're sufficiently warm. You do though, it is a drought, after all. You wrap yourself in a fluffy towel and then rummage around his bedroom for dry clothes. He clearly needs to do laundry because his drawers are sparse, and his hamper is overflowing. Still, you manage to find a long t-shirt and a pair of his boxers to wear underneath.

Brendon walks in and freezes when he sees you. "Are you," he trails off, takes a deep breath, and then starts again, "are you wearing my underwear?" He eyes the black briefs you stole that are peeking out from under the t-shirt you also stole from him.

"Yeah," you say dismissively, putting your wet clothes in your purse.

"Y/N," he says exasperatedly.

"Mm? Something wrong?"

"Something wrong? Y/N, you're wearing my underwear!"

"So?"

"So my dick has been in them!"

You turn to look at him, rolling your eyes. "Your dick has been in your hands, too, but it's not a big deal because, like your underwear, I presume you wash them." He gives you a look that tells you he's not convinced. "Plus, you loaned me sweatpants after I ripped my shorts a couple of weeks ago, and are you honestly telling me your dick has never been in those?"

"That's different!"

"It is not." He gives you another exasperated look. "Okay, if it's that big of a deal, then I'll take them off, geez," you relent, tugging on the bottom of the underwear.

"Ahh!" He exclaims, turning his head, shielding his eyes, and waving his other arm in your general direction as if to ward you off. "Let's all keep our clothes on."

"What is wrong with you? Why are you being so squirrely? Does my gross body really freak you out that much?" You accuse.

His eyes widen. "Shit, no, I love your gross body, fuck, I mean, I love your perfectly normal body," he stutters while you stare in silence.

"You've made your point," you say, not bothering to hide the offense in your voice. You grab your bag and storm out of his bedroom.

"Y/N, wait," he calls.

You stop and whip around to face him, "You've been weird around me all day, Brendon! When I took my jacket off in the studio, your eyes were glued to your drums! When I said we should swim, you offered to watch a fucking movie instead! When my shirt was soaked through, you looked right past me at the wall! When I asked to shower in your house, you nearly kicked me out! And now you're having fucking conniptions over your underwear!" You shout. "Brendon, I know, believe me, I know, that I don't look like your other LA friends. That I'm not model-skinny or anything, but god, you could put some effort into not making me feel like a freak."

Brendon furrows his brows. "Y/N, of course, I don't think you're a freak."

"Oh really? Because Nicole has been buck-naked right in front of you, and you didn't bat an eye, but apparently, the sight of my arms without a jacket is so disgusting that you can't look at me." Tears are streaming down your face now.

His face falls, and he rushes towards you, "Y/N, sweet girl, oh my god, no, no, that's not it at all. I," his voice trembles, "like you," he says quietly.

You scrunch your face in confusion. "Brendon, of course, you like me; we're friends, but that doesn't make any of your behavior today acceptable."

"Are you really going to make me spell it out?" he asks. "I am attracted to you. Very attracted to you. And this whole day, I've just been trying not to get aroused by the sight of you because that's gross and objectifying and disrespectful, so I've been staring at the ground and thinking about Margaret Thatcher naked so I didn't have to go jerk off in the studio bathroom," he confesses.

"Oh."

"And now I've made things awkward," he rubs the back of his neck. "So, um, see you later, you can keep my clothes. I won't need them back. Probably do something creepy with them once you gave them back anyway. Er, that was a joke. I should shut up."

Your offense and then confusion morph into understanding and then shock and delight. "Yeah, you fucking doofus," you laugh. "You absolutely should shut up."

You take two steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you, and grab his chin. You lean in, and your lips meet his without any reservation. He kisses back, unsure. Then, you take more initiative, looping your arm around his back and pulling him against you.

Brendon stays tentative but enthusiastic, letting you take the lead. "Fuck. Margaret Thatcher naked, Margaret Thatcher naked," he chants against your lips.

"How's that distraction working out for you?" You ask knowingly, pressing your hips against his.

His cheeks warm, and must be blushing. "I think you can feel as well I do that it's working out poorly." He's trying to make a joke, but he's right. You can feel him hardening against you as you kiss. You finally remove your lips from his but keep yourself pressed against him. He turns his face away, blushing like you suspected, and grinning from ear-to-ear.

You run your hand down the side of his face. "For what it's worth, I'm very attracted to you too, if you didn't pick up on that already. Probably why I was so upset," you say softly, "I can leave if you want to be responsible and take this slow," you offer. "Or," you trace the hand from his face down his neck to his chest, "you could take me back to your bedroom and apologize for hurting my feelings." You fake a pout.

Brendon's eyes darken, and he grabs your hand to practically drag you into his bedroom. He slams the door behind you, pinning you against it. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," you breathe out, and he kisses you hard. You reciprocate, not caring how sloppy and desperate you feel with your probing tongues and clashing teeth. He parts to breathe and then buries his face in your neck, nipping and kissing. You tremble, grateful for the door behind you, so you don't collapse. One of his hands is above your head, supporting himself against the door, and the other is on your hip. He plays with the waistband of the briefs you're wearing, a silent plea for permission.

"Touch me," you beg, and he doesn't feign any confusion, just slips his hand under the fabric and strokes your swollen clit with his index finger. You moan, trying to ask for more, but your vocal cords aren't working. He seems to understand, though, because he moves his hand back to gently slide his middle and ring finger inside you. Instead of thrusting them like you expect, he curls them and rubs against your g-spot. At the same time, he's still stroking your clit, now with his thumb, and kissing you. His coordination is crazy good, but it makes sense with all the instruments he plays. Your core is starting to feel warm and buzzy, and you're only half-shocked that he's coaxing an orgasm from you so soon. You don't know how you're still standing; your knees are weak, and your brain feels like it's filled with a static of lust and pleasure.

Brendon feels you tightening around his fingers and speeds up ever-so-slightly. The small part of you that's still lucid feels his dick, hard and pressing against you where your bodies meet. He isn't rutting or grinding against you, just keeping you pinned against the wall with his hips, and somehow the self-control is even hotter. He presses harder on your clit, and that does it. Your orgasm explodes through you, soaking the underwear you're wearing. Your legs turn to jelly, and you slump forward onto Brendon, who supports your dead weight easily. "That's it, come for me," he coaxes softly. You bury your face into him, feeling blissed-out and overstimulated all at once, unable to do anything but ride it out.

"Y/N, darling, can you move over to the bed with me?"

You nod, letting him support you as you take small steps to his bed in the middle of the room.

"Good girl. Can't believe this is really happening; I can't believe I get to touch you. Dreamed about you for so long," he marvels.

You crawl into his bed, settling back onto your knees. "Dreamed about you too," you admit. "God, can I take my shirt off, Brendon?"

"Pretty sure that's my shirt, actually."

You giggle. "Well then, can I take your shirt off?" You wink, regaining your composure.

He laughs. "Yes, please. In both senses, take my clothes off."

You pull off the t-shirt you're wearing and throw it on the ground, exposing your stomach and breasts to his hungry eyes. His chest rises and falls quickly as he soaks you in silently, trying to get control of himself. "I like looking at you in my underwear." His voice is gravelly.

"Well, wouldn't you rather look at me without your underwear?" you offer.

He swallows and nods. You strip completely. You know your cunt is shiny with your juices, and you're pretty sure that's what's caught his attention. Brendon takes his shirt off, and now it's your turn to stare. He unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans before taking them and his underwear off. His leaking cock settles against his stomach. He approaches the bed and gets in next to you, rolling on his side to face you.

"Fuck me," you moan, grasping his erection and stroking.

Brendon lets out a choked sound and gropes around the nightstand for a condom. He grabs one and hands it to you to roll on him. You spread your legs in expectation, and he takes the cue to enter you. He slides in easily with how wet and ready you are for him. You don't wait for him to start thrusting; you're too impatient. Instead, you rock your hips up to meet him. He hisses, not expecting the motion, and tenses his entire body to stay in control. It feels like it takes him forever, but eventually, he starts moving, slowly dragging his cock up and down. You squeeze your legs together to better feel him, and he hisses before his thrusts quicken, already working desperately towards release.

You can practically feel the veins running across him. "You're so much thicker than I would've guessed. Fill me up so nicely," you tell him. He throbs at your words, and you suspect the praise is turning him on even more, so when his hips snap forward perfectly into your g-spot, you praise him again. "So good, B, keep this angle, please." Your suspicions are mostly confirmed when he moans, and his thrusts falter a bit as a wave of pleasure washes over him. His hand moves to stroke your nipple while he supports himself with his other arm to avoid crushing you. You move your hand between your bodies to touch your clit, but instead, decide to form your fingers in a V and feel him moving between them instead. He hisses at the new sensation, and you love affecting him with your touch.

You finally do move your other hand to rub your clit, fast and hard. There are so many different pleasure points being activated on your body that you don't know what to focus on, so you don't focus on any; just let all the feelings meld into one as you lay back and mostly let Brendon do all the work. And god is he working hard; his muscles are tense and shiny with exertion, his head is thrown back with an expression of sheer bliss on his face, and his thrusts are unrelenting. Not to mention the hand still fondling your breast. He's gorgeous, too caught up in fucking you to muster any speech. You'd feel bad that he's putting so much effort in while you just get to lie back, touch yourself, and meet his thrusts when you can if he didn't seem so deeply gratified himself. Not only is the friction around his cock divine, but he also loves getting to pleasure you. Seeing your mouth fall open, unable to keep moans from escaping. The sex is messy and unrefined, neither of you quite knowing how to drive the other crazy yet, but pulling out every trick you can think of. You feel like a gamer smashing all the buttons to see what will work.

Despite the usual LA climate, the rain outside is pouring harder, and it's adding to the intensity and frenzy you both feel. "Shit, I'm close to coming," he groans.

"Hang on for me a little longer, Brendon, please. Just five more minutes," you plead. Admittedly, you could come too, but you only get one first time with Brendon, and you don't want it to end. He cranes his neck to suck behind your ear, clearly trying to get you to come faster.

"No fair, you already came," he complains, moving your hands out of the way to rub your clit himself. You use your free hands to play with your nipples, now rock hard from the constant stimulation.

"Shit, okay, come," you allow. As you say it, the first clap of thunder booms through the house. He sighs in relief, kissing you deeply as he lets himself go, getting lost in euphoria. You love feeling his hot come gather in the condom, and it triggers your own orgasm. You shriek as your second orgasm of the day is more intense than the first, and you're pretty sure you soak his bedspread just like you soaked his underwear.

He pulls out quickly and tosses the condom before snuggling up against you. "Guess your weird, gross body is good for something after all," he mumbles against your neck, already falling asleep.

"Hm, if only we could find a good use for yours," you retort, wrapping yourself around him.

[electrictoes]

All We Are

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Week

Day 4:  “What is this between us?  Relationship: Amanda Rollins  / Sonny Carisi​

Read on AO3

They don’t define this thing between them - it just is.

After a week, Sonny thinks maybe they should - but he’s so happy, and he doesn’t want to break this calm comfort they’ve found in each other by putting labels on things that have never needed to be labelled before.

Everyone around them is so curious though; other people want it defined. And it shouldn’t matter - shouldn’t be anyone’s business but their own. But it isn’t that simple. Their friends and family make no secret of the fact that they've been waiting for this almost as long as he has.

He skipped out on most of Memorial Day weekend with his family for the first time in his life - only putting in an appearance in his parents’ backyard late on Monday afternoon, a white lie on his lips; that he’s been stuck at work - a lie his mother sees through in an instant.

He can’t stop checking his phone; types and deletes a message to Amanda - an I miss you that he can’t bring himself to send, because it’s so ridiculous. He sends her a photo of the backyard filled with family instead, and smiles down at his phone when she sends him a photo back - the girls at the park, ice cream cones in their hands, sprinkles and chocolate sauce already trailing down Billie’s arm.

He tries to duck out of sight to call her a little later, but his mother catches him as he creeps up the stairs to his childhood bedroom; she stands at the foot of the stairs, hands on her hips, a scolding frown on her face - he hears the Dominick before she says it, and slinks back down to the hallway without a word, thinking about how he’s a prosecutor and he faces tougher opponents than his mother on a daily basis, but no one can reduce him to his thirteen year old self like she can.

His mom doesn’t let him slip back out to the party, her grip on his arm is firm as she tugs him into the kitchen, “Alright, out with it,” she says and he feigns confusion.

“I don’t-”

“It’s either a girl, or it’s something bad,” she says, arms crossed over her chest, a shadow of worry on her face. “And your sister told me you broke up with-”

Sonny sighs, resisting the urge to fold his own arms. He hadn’t actually told Bella that at all, just relayed one of the many arguments he and Nicole had had before they’d called it quits, but he wasn’t surprised that she’d drawn her own conclusions. “Bella needs to stop gossipin’ about me.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothin’ to-”  His mother fixes him with a look that would have had him running to his bedroom as a kid; he resists the urge to bolt now. “It’s new,” he says, and because his mom doesn’t so much as blink, he adds. “Rollins.”

There’s a part of him that’s almost giddy at the way she reacts - the way her posture softens and she smiles up at him. He enjoys it for half a second before the questions start coming in thick and fast - he deflects, but she ploughs on.

“So the two of you are-”

“Figuring that out,” he says. He listens to her as she talks about not wasting time, tells him he’s not getting any younger, reminds him his grandmother’s engagement ring is still sitting in her jewellery box upstairs just waiting for him to need it.

“Way too far ahead of yourself, Ma,” he says - too far ahead but still visible there on the horizon.

The closest they come to having the what is this? conversation in those early days is the is this a secret? conversation.

“I don’t want it to be,” Sonny admits, “But if you wanna wait until-”

“Until what?” Amanda asks him, “I’m sure,” she says. “If you are.”

They’re on the couch, the girls fast asleep down the hall and her feet resting in his lap; it’s casual and domestic and not really all that different from the way things have always been, but he lets himself take it in, appreciate the way his world is changing. He rests his hands on her shins as he smiles over at her, “I’m sure,” he says. And that’s it.

Everything left unsaid passes between them in looks, kisses, and touches. They don’t need more.

They don’t advertise it; there’s a time when they’ll have to - disclosure paperwork and conversations about professionalism and objectivity as though they haven’t been managing just fine up until now. But Sonny’s diligent - he’s checked the paperwork - he might have checked the paperwork over a year ago, when she’d left him at his desk with a sad smile and he’d spent the next forty-eight hours kicking himself, only for a global pandemic to stop him calling in that rain check  - and he knows they have time.

They do arrive at the precinct together one Tuesday morning a couple of weeks in; he has a meeting scheduled with Liv first thing and he hasn’t been back to his own apartment in three days. They’re not so blatant as to hold hands, but they do work with some of the best detectives in the city, so it isn’t a surprise that they’re caught out within minutes.

Fin gives them look, but he doesn’t say anything. Sonny’s sure he’ll get a comment in at some point, but while everyone knows Fin enjoys a gossip way more than he lets on, he’s good at keeping his questions to himself until the moment that best suits him.

Kat doesn’t follow suit. She’s nothing but questions and Sonny tries to escape under the guise of waiting for the captain in her office, but Amanda grips his jacket sleeve, silently telling him not leave her.

“How long?” Kat asks, “And what exactly-”

“Our business,” Amanda says; she’s smiling at Kat, no malice in her tone, but no room for argument either.

Jesse get a pass. Because she’s Jesse. And because this affects her just as much as it does Sonny and Amanda. For the first two weeks of waking up to Uncle Sonny sleeping in Mommy’s bed she doesn’t ask any questions - it surprises him, because that first morning waking up beside Amanda his second thought had been that they would have to figure out how to explain his presence there to Jesse and Billie. When Jesse had raced into Amanda's bedroom, though, she had just greeted him like she was used to him being there, and he’d wondered if they’d ever actually need to sit them down and explain.

Eventually she does ask, one night after he’s tucked Billie into bed with a kiss so it’s just the three of them awake. He leans in the bathroom doorway while Amanda gives Jesse her bath. She’s been unusually quiet, and there’s a thoughtful look on her face, “Mommy,” she says after a while, blinking water out of her eyes as Amanda washes her hair, “Is Uncle Sonny your husband now?”

Amanda coughs as though she’s the one with a face full of water, turning to look at Sonny with a startled expression. He gives her a soft smile, but he doesn’t have the answers either.

“Not yet, baby,” she says, and Sonny can’t help the grin that comes over his face, however wide Amanda’s eyes go at her own words.

“You’ve gotta have a weddin’ first,” Sonny adds, and Jesse beams over at him; he sees a dozen questions forming, but Amanda pours more water over her head, rinsing out the shampoo and buying them more time in the same moment.

Once she’s out of the bath, dressed in her pyjamas and ready for bed, Jesse throws her arms around his legs, hugging him tightly, “I’m glad you’re gonna have a wedding with Mommy,” she says, and tips her head back for a goodnight kiss before skipping to her bedroom as though she hadn’t essentially just told him to get on with proposing to her mother.

Amanda’s mother shows up unannounced at her apartment one Sunday morning, and it’s Sonny who answers the door - not expecting Beth Anne Rollins to be standing in the hallway, an impatient look on her face. “Oh,” is all she says when she clocks sight of him, her gaze travelling down the worn t-shirt and pyjama pants he’s wearing, his bare feet on the wooden floor. She pushes past him into the apartment, not greeting him or stopping for breath, “What are you doing here? Amanda finally admit she’s got a thing for you?”

He closes the door behind her and follows, not answering her questions. Billie scrambles down from the dining table to run and hug her grandmother, abandoning the cereal he’s spent the last ten minutes trying to coax her into eating, while she’d stubbornly refused and told him she wanted garlic bread for breakfast.

“Where is Amanda anyway?” Beth Anne asks, turning to look at him again. He feels self-conscious with her gaze on him, the soft clothes, untamed hair, shoeless Sonny Carisi was reserved for Amanda - and by extension the girls - certainly not for his possible future mother-in-law.

“Takin’ Frannie for a walk,” he says, “Jesse’s gone too,” he adds unnecessarily.

Beth Anne nods, still eyeing him with suspicion as she reaches into her handbag and pulls out a lollipop for Billie, who grabs at it gleefully.

“No-” he starts, but Beth Anne is already unwrapping the treat, and he sighs as Billie puts it in her mouth. “She hasn’t finished her breakfast,” he sighs.

“And who says you get to tell me what my granddaughter can eat?” Beth Anne says, smiling indulgently at Billie.

Sonny shakes his head, “I’m gonna… if you’re here I’m gonna get dressed,” he slips away to the bedroom, taking jeans and a shirt from the drawer he now has in Amanda’s dresser. While he changes he hears the sounds of Amanda’s return - Frannie barking, Jesse yelling a greeting to her grandmother. He hears murmuring as Amanda questions Beth Anne’s impromptu visit, and when he returns Amanda and her mother are at opposite ends of the kitchen, Amanda leaning back against the counter with an unimpressed look on her face.

“And then he tries to tell me not to give Billie candy-”

Amanda shakes her head, “He's right. It’s barely 9am, Momma.”

“Well, is he your boyfriend now or not?”

“Momma,” Amanda starts, but cuts herself off when she spots him hovering just beyond the kitchen, she gives him a warm smile, “We’re together, that’s all that matters,” she says, meeting his eye - all she feels and all that goes unsaid held in her gaze for him to see.

They fill in the disclosure paperwork that evening; they don’t have to just yet; they’ve still got time, Sonny’s been keeping the deadline in his head, but Amanda leaves him on the couch and goes out into the entryway where her work bag is; she returns a moment later, a manila folder in her hands that she passes over to him as she sits down. The form inside is mostly filled out - all their basic information already there in Amanda’s handwriting, the only empty boxes are Date of Disclosure, and Nature of Relationship.

“Time to make it official?” he asks, and she pokes his arm gently.

“It’s already official, Carisi,” she says, “Unless you’re thinking otherwise.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head at her, “You got a pen?”

“We’ve got to decide what to write in that box,” she tells him tapping the Nature of Relationship box with the pen she’s just grabbed. “Whatever we’re calling this,” she gestures between the two of them.

“According to Jesse, I’m your future husband,” he says, only half-joking.

Amanda just laughs at him, “I think you’d need to write fiancé,” she says, “But you’re not getting off that lightly - you need to propose to me yourself,” she tells him; she glances away as she adds, “Not yet, though.”

Someday, he thinks, leaning over, a hand reaching for her face, turning her back towards him so that he can kiss her; she lets him, kissing him right back for a minute or so before she puts one palm to his chest, pushing him back from her, “Carisi, let’s finish this first.”

He sighs as he pulls away, but it’s worth it not to have missed the impatient smirk on her face.

“I got it,” he tells her, resting the sheet of paper on his knee as he adds one word to the empty box. Partners.

[artcompilations]

hello friend!!!! i hope you are doing good and staying safe!!! if you have a moment, do you have anything on depression and/or carrying on despite it? thank u bunches!!

hi pal! i would have liked to give a more comprehensive response but i’m not sure i’m going to be in the right mindset for it later so i’m just going to link a couple of things for now and maybe you’ll find some that speak to you as well 

as ever with these, a wee nudge that this will be here for when u have the energy and mindset for it, so please do dip in and out as and when is best for you, take it easy!

with all that said, sending love from my corner of the world to yours, we’re here and we’re going to make it, we are!! take care lovely 💓 💓  

poems (**personal faves though obviously everything here is a personal selection) 

poetry recs. would highly second the rec for ‘wild geese’ by mary oliver!! it’s comforting in a very small gentle way and sometimes that’s what u need, a poem that feels kind & soothing... here’s another: susan coolidge’s ‘new every morning’ (mentions of religion) 

**‘a good day’ by kait rokowski, this poem is !!! (mentions of past suicide ideation and self harm but the core of the poem is focussed on the small goodness of the present)

**‘elegy for my sadness’ by chen chen (I wish I could peel / all my sadness in one long strip off my skin / & toss it in a bucket. No one would have to carry it. / It would just sit there & be punished. / It would just sit there & think about everything it’s done.) 

who can look in the mirror for three minutes / and say I love you, I love you, I love you / without bursting into tears over all the ways / we have not loved ourselves (jennifer saunder’s poem)

spoken poetry (youtube links): sabrina benaim’s “explaining my depression to my mother” (death mention) and reagan myers’ “depression is funny like that”

some articles: “I Lived. I Lived. I Lived.” article by Tori Burgamy (mentions of suicide and self harm / “I like to think that we all have two birthdays—the day we were born and the day we started fighting for our lives. That fateful day was my rebirth, although I didn’t know it at the time. It was the day I recognized depression for what it truly is: a liar and a thief.) and ask Polly - why should I keep going 

quotes

WHAT I AM NOT: My brother and I used to play a game. I’d point to a chair. “THIS IS NOT A CHAIR,” I’d say. Bird would point to the table. “THIS IS NOT A TABLE.” “THIS IS NOT A WALL,” I’d say. “THAT IS NOT A CEILING.” We’d go on like that. “IT IS NOT RAINING OUT.” “MY SHOE IS NOT UNTIED!” Bird would yell. I’d point to my elbow. “THIS IS NOT A SCRAPE.” Bird would lift his knee. “THIS IS ALSO NOT A SCRAPE!” “THAT IS NOT A KETTLE!” “NOT A CUP!” “NOT A SPOON!” “NOT DIRTY DISHES!” We denied whole rooms, years, weathers. Once, at the peak of our shouting, Bird took a deep breath. At the top of his lungs, he shrieked: “I! HAVE NOT! BEEN! UNHAPPY! MY WHOLE! LIFE!” “But you’re only seven,” I said.

— Nicole Krauss, The History Of Love

- inkipri 

I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t say, shhh. I don’t say, it is okay. I wait until it is done having feelings. Then we stand and we go wash the dishes. We crack open bedroom doors, step over the creaks, and kiss the children. We are sore from this grief, like we’ve returned from a run, like we are training for a marathon. I’m with you all the way, says my grief, whispering, and then we splash our face with water and stretch, one big shadow and one small.

- Callista Buchen (not specific to depression but i think some of the sentiment is still? applicable? sometimes at least)

Depression is stupid and not a thing that makes me a better writer. One time I went a whole year without writing and I stayed in bed and drank. Fuck your Bukowskisms. I want sunlight and love and running down some street I’ve never been on where it’s warm and cool at the same time and I’m smiling. I want nothing to ever be bad again- and I don’t mean that I want a life free of conflict, I mean that I want a life free of meaningless conflict. Not being able to will oneself to take a shower or leave the house is meaningless. There is nothing to be gained, no lesson to be learned from that kind of life. My heart is stale, my prose is stale. Give me fire if you want to hurt me. Give me something I can taste. There’s nothing romantic or mysterious about where I am. There’s nothing here worth holding onto.

- Joshua Espinoza

Wherever you are it’s okay. You can come back from it. Whatever happened to you down there, whatever the world looks like now, that’s not how it always looks. That’s not how it’s always going to look. There’s more. There’s always more.

- Patrick Ness, More Than This (yeah out of context but! that’s not how it always looks! there’s always more!!) 

some more general compilations

resilience, to keep on living (mentions of death)

to forgive and value ourselves

choices and life

reminders / two

+ if anyone has anything to chip in, feel free to pop it in the comments or something for anon to check (edit: @/anon see the replies!) all the love ✨

[parkmin--seo]

i know there is hope in these waters ;; a spotify playlist

easy on me ( there ain’t no gold in this river that i’ve been washing my hands in forever; i know there is hope in these waters ) - adele // rise ( find a shelter from the storm within, just keep your eyes ahead and dust yourself off again ) - calum scott // growing pains ( and i guess the bad can get better, gotta be wrong before its right ) - alessia cara // heal ( take my mind and take my pain, like an empty bottle takes the rain and heal, heal, hell, heal ) - tom odell // silhouette ( don’t go holding your breath, you know that i’m not done yet, there’s still a fight in me left ) - birdy // alive ( i had a one way ticket to the place where all the demons go, where the wind don’t change and nothing in the ground can ever grow; no hope, just lies and you’re taught to cry into your pillow, but i survived ) // i believe ( ‘cause i have been where you are before and i have felt the pain of losing who you are and i have died so many times, but i’m still alive ) - christina perri // rise up ( and i’ll rise up, i’ll rise like the day. i’ll rise up, i’ll rise unafraid ) - andra day // the sun is rising ( whatever you’re facing, if your heart is breaking, there’s a promsie for the ones who just hold on; and lift your eyes up and see, the sun is rising ) - britt nicole 

[helenaheissner]

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad: Issue #17 (Shelter From the Storm)

Rain fell from the sky, so thick it was practically a solid wall of water emanating from above. It struck buildings, sliding down concrete and metal; it washed over trees and plants, choking them at the roots; it flooded the streets, running in makeshift rivers over asphalt and cement, scrubbing dirt and oil and carrying them into the sewers. The wind howled, the rain fell, and the sun was a distant memory. 

Nicole watched the rainfall from the safe side of her living room window, cuddled up under a blanket on her couch, a steaming mug of coffee with cream and a stack of comic books on the table in front of her. Candles dotted the apartment, pinpoints of light and heat, illuminating everything in a warm orange glow. 

Amy walked over from the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee in her hands. She placed it on an oven mitt atop the table, and sat down on the nook of the couch, by Nicole’s feet. 

“Pass me my Guardians comic?” she asked. 

Nicole obliged. The previous night had yielded a great haul- Amy had picked up new trades of Guardians of the Galaxy and Daredevil, while Nicole had picked up new volumes of Wonder Woman, Batgirl, and Ms. Marvel. Nicole placed her feet atop Amy’s lap, and Amy pulled the blanket over them both. 

“How’s your comic?” Amy asked. 

“Oh, fantastic. You?”

“Not bad- this run has to come after a wicked good one, so it’s got an uphill battle.”

“Ah, that’s never a fun position to be in.”

“No, it is not.”

“Mm. This is, though,” Nicole said. “This right here, I mean.”

“Oh yeah, it is,” Amy smiled at her. “Ugh, I was gonna go patrolling today though.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a great idea- looks like we’re getting the tertiary of a hurricane out there.”

“I’ve flown in blizzards!”

“You have?” Nicole said, leaning forward. “Amy! That’s so dangerous!”

“So’s fighting demons,” Amy said. 

“... Okay, point.”

“But I promise you, today I am not leaving my apartment unless I absolutely have to,” Amy said. “I got everything I need right here, and if I can help it, I’m not even getting up off the couch the rest of the day-”

A knock tapped on the door. 

“Dammit,” Amy said. 

“I got it, I got it,” Nicole said, grinning and pulling the blanket off herself. She ambled over to the door in her basketball shorts and her old, newly oversized jersey, her breasts bouncing about freely as she walked. She liked wearing a bra, but sometimes it was nice to let the girls go free. She opened the door, and found Debbi and Heather on the other side, both soaked and shivering. 

Nicole ushered them inside and quickly shoved hot mugs of coffee into both their hands, while Amy fetched them some fresh towels from the bathroom and turned on all the lights. 

“We were meeting up for breakfast,” Debbi explained. “I figured we could meet halfway before the storm got bad, but I was wrong.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Amy said, chortling. 

“Oh, shut up, sis,” Debbi said, throwing a towel at her. Amy caught it and stuck out her tongue. 

“You guys need to wait out the storm?” Nicole asked. Part of her was annoyed at having her day with Amy interrupted, while another part was relieved. 

“Looks like it, yeah,” Heather said, rubbing the back of her head. “Sorry to crash your… Um….” Her face took on a look of unbearable awkwardness, as if she were realizing in real-time she had no idea what this was she was crashing. 

Amy waved a hand. “We were just hanging out.”

“Okayyyy,” Heather said. 

Heather, please please PLEASE do not make this awkward- it literally just stopped being awkward yesterday, Nicole thought. 

Another knock. 

Nicole got up and answered. She found Cass and Matt on the other side, in a similar state of affairs to what Debbi and Heather had been. 

She brought them in and tended to them.  “So, what were you guys up to?” Amy grinned.  “Nothing,” Cass said hurriedly. “Well, now nothing. Just-” “Waiting out the storm?” Debbi asked.  “Yeah,” Cass said. “How you doing, Matt?” Amy asked. 

“I’m alright. Nice to be indoors for a change when this happens,” he said, gesturing to the storm. “Beats the hell outta huddling under an awning!”

“I bet,” Cass said, looking at him affectionately. 

Good for you, Cass, Nicole thought. And then she said it. Out loud. Didn’t even realize it until after it happened. Oh. Right. His powers.

“Um, what’s good for her?” Heather said. 

The words started sprinting out Nicole’s mouth before she could stop: “The fact that she’s doing such a good job- mmmphhh.”

Amy slammed a hand over Nicole’s mouth. 

Matt sighed. “Maybe I should go.”

“No please, I don’t want you to leave,” Cass said, and then winced. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna make this wicked awkward- I can tell. It’s not a problem- I’m used to this,” Matt said, getting up and shrugging his shoulders. 

“But where will you go?” Debbi said. 

“Yeah, do you even have a place to stay?” Heather asked. 

He cracked his neck. “I, uh, sleep in the loft above the garage I work at. My boss gives me free room and board, and in exchange he gets to pay me under the table for below minimum wage. Dammit- see, this is the problem: I always wind up oversharing.”

“Then why not lean into it?” Cass said. “The truth will set you free.”

“Cass,” Heather started. 

“We can’t exactly send him out in the rain,” Debbi said. 

“Okay, but this isn’t our apartment,” Heather said. 

Amy and Nicole, sitting next to each other on the nook, turned their heads towards one another and exchanged a glance. Nicole saw on Amy’s face that she felt letting him stay was the right thing to do, even if things got awkward. And Nicole agreed. They both stared at the stack of comic books they’d been trying to read- they were gonna trade off books and read each other’s hauls all day- but that could wait for another time. 

“Well, my Dad always says when the storm starts blowing, you bring all the ships into harbor, even the ones you don’t recognize,” Nicole said. 

“Of course he does,” Amy snickered.

Debbi glared and said, “Amy-”

But Nicole laughed as well, and Debbi let it slide. 

“So,” Amy said, standing up and clapping. “You are all our guests today! What would you like to do?” 

Heather’s hand shot up instantly: “Smash Tourney!”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Debbi pumped her fist. 

“I’m down,” Nicole said.

Amy and Cass nodded. 

“I haven’t played a video game in five years,” Matt said wistfully. “So yeah, that sounds good!”

“Cool,” Amy said. “I’ll set up.”

And thus, the stage was set for the most epic magical girl (and one guy) Smash tourney in human history: Nicole played Peach, Amy was Kirby, Debbi was Zelda, Heather was Pikachu, Cass was Samus, and Matt was Link. 

Round 1: Amy v Debbi, sister versus sister, pink eldritch abomination versus fairy maiden. Debbi won after a grueling twenty minute struggle and called her sister a scrub. 

Round 2: Nicole v Matt, battle of the new kids on the block. Nicole took out all five of Matt’s lives within five minutes, and the young gentleman hung his head in shame. 

Round 3: Cass v Heather, a face-off between the heavy hitters. It was an even battle for most of it, but Cass ultimately pulled through. 

Round 4: three-way brawl, Nicole vs Debbi vs Cass. Debbi fell first, leading to a Nicole v Cass showdown, blonde vs brunette, Rhode Island versus New Hampshire. 

“I’m gonna make you eat shit, Nicole!” Cass shouted. 

“Rude.”

“It’s a video game, what do you- oh, dammit!” Cass said as Nicole claimed one of her lives. 

“You get wicked competitive, don’t you, Ortiz?” Nicole grinned. 

“That’s not true, I just hate losing- oh come on!”

“Hahahahahaha,” Nicole said in a deliberately flat tone. 

“Hey, you have come a long way, kiddo,” Amy assured Cass. “She used to be so much worse at these-”

“Amy, please don’t-”

“As your big sister it’s my job to embarrass you in front of boys. Sorry, them’s the breaks.”

“Ahhhhhhh!” Cass screamed. 

“Matt, I am so sorry you have to deal with this,” Nicole said. 

“I mean playing video games with a room full of cute girls isn’t exactly a tough break, all things considered,” Matt said. Then he groaned: “Crap, I’m sorry-”

“Relax, boy,” Heather said. “Everyone here’s got eyes, don’t worry about it.”

Down to one life each, Nicole charged, but Cass outmaneuvered her and sent her over the edge. 

“HAH!” Cass proclaimed. “SUCK IT, NYGAARD!”

“God, Cass,” Heather rolled her eyes. 

Nicole giggled, and the giggle flowered into a belly-laugh. “Gosh, I needed that.”

Cass smirked, then patted Nicole on the head. “Glad to hear.”

Noon passed, and the storm showed no sign of letting up. Nicole and Amy made pancakes for everyone, smothered in butter and real maple syrup, and served them all in the living room. 

“Ah man, I haven’t had flapjacks in ages,” Matt said. 

“You call them flapjacks?” Cass asked. 

“Yeah. I mean, my older brother always did anyway.”

“You have an older brother?” Cass asked. 

“Eh… Kinda.”

Nicole winced as the question forced its way out of Cass’ mouth: “what happened to him? How could he let you wind up how you did?”

“... When I was thirteen, the day after I got my powers, my brother, who wasn’t out to our dad yet as a trans guy, wound up getting thrown out of the house. We were at the dinner table one night, my dad asked my brother if he had anything he wanted to tell him, and because of my abilities, my lack of control, he outed himself. Dad took it badly, like he takes everything, and threw him out. I haven’t seen him since then. Then, a couple years later, he threw me out as well after he heard I’d been getting into fights at school. I thought about looking for my brother, for Mike, but… I dunno. I just felt so damn ashamed of myself that I couldn’t bring myself to face him. Doubt he wants anything to do with me after what I pulled.”

Nicole’s brow furrowed. This poor boy… “That can’t possibly be true.”

Matt shook his head. “That’s very nice of you, but-”

“No, Matt, please listen to me.” She explained to him about Zack, what had happened between them, who they’d been before and who they were now. “You know why older siblings are born first, don’t you?”

He gave a tiny, fragile little smile. “Why?”

“To keep the little ones safe,” Nicole said. “I’m paraphrasing something, but that’s the gist of it.” 

He shook his head, and his hands trembled.

Nicole continued, “If he’s half the big brother you seem to think he is, then he still loves you. I promise.”

Matt gulped, and he whispered, “Thank you for saying that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You okay?” Cass said, putting a hand on Matt’s shoulder. 

“I’m fine. Just feel like I made things awkward by oversharing.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Amy said. 

“Yeah, seriously, you’re all good,” Nicole said. 

Heather kept conspicuously silent, and Debbi steepled her fingers together. “If you want, we could all do some oversharing.”

Matt laughed. “Are you sure about that?”

“I have weed, if that helps,” Amy offered. 

“I’ve, uh, never gotten high before, I dunno.”

“Nothing you’re not comfortable with,” Cass said. 

“It’s a lot of fun,” Nicole said.

“You are not the person I expected to say that,” Matt said. 

“I get that a lot,” Nicole said. 

Amy busted out the flower, grinder, and pipe. She packed it, took the greens, and then passed to Nicole. The weed wafted through her, lifting her up and far away from all her problems and all her anxieties. Maybe everything would be fine after all. 

They passed the piece around and cleared the bowl shortly. Matt coughed, and then laid on his back and started singing. “WHEN I WAS, A YOUNG BOY, MY FATHER, TOOK ME INTO THE CITY-

Cass joined in: “TO SEE A MARCHING BAND!”

“He said son, you grow up-”

Nicole joined in: “Would you be, the savior of the broken, the beaten, and-”

“The damned!” Amy finished.

They all joined in. Amy and Debbi both sang beautifully, Cass and Nicole somewhat less so, and Heather not in the slightest. Matt’s baritone, however, was rich and full, and took them through all the low notes. By the time they’d finished the song, another bowl was packed and smoked rapidly. Nicole’s head was light, and she placed it on Amy’s lap. Amy started stroking her hair while the others spoke about their favorite anime.

“G Gundam,” Debbi said. 

“Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood,” Heather said. 

“Paranoia Agent,” Cass said. 

“Hey, same,” Matt answered. 

“Sailor Moon,” Nicole moaned. 

“Of course it is,” Amy smiled. 

“Isn’t that yours, too?” Cass asked. 

Amy laughed. “Yeah.”

The conversation flowed like an undammed river during monsoon season. Outside, the rain struck the ground, sounding across the city, connecting it to far-reaching sea through the shared sky. Hours went by. They wound up putting on a Ghibli movie and watching it all together, Debbi resting on Heather’s shoulder, Cass and Matt coming close to but not quite holding hands, and Nicole and Amy cuddling under the blanket. At some point, Nicole drifted away from consciousness. 

When she woke up, there was a new source of noise, out of tune with the rainfall: a harsh knocking on the door. 

“I’ll get it,” Amy said, getting out from under the blanket with a heavy sigh of reluctance. 

“Noooo,” Nicole whined.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” she teased her. 

Amy opened the door. Nicole poked her head over and saw on the other side a woman in her late twenties with short dyed-red hair, wearing a hooded blue raincoat. 

“Hello, Amanda,” the woman said. 

“Um… Hi,” Amy replied. “Who are you, exactly?”

“I’m your mother.”

Nicole shot up in her seat, channeling a pulse of Holy Light and sobering up. She rushed over and stood behind Amy. Debbi and Heather were passed out on the couch, but Cass and Matt were both wide-awake. Cass put an arm across Matt’s chest as he started to get up, then held up a finger to indicate he should hold off a second. 

Nicole stood behind Amy, while Amy’s fists pulsed white. She stood up straighter, kept her fists balled, and breathed in and out through her nose. Nicole wished they weren’t still wearing pajamas, but they were somewhat past the point of being able to do much about that. 

“No,” Amy said, “You’re not.”

“Amanda-”

“Whoever you are, you’re not my mother. Let’s get that settled right away. Maybe you carried me, sure, maybe I came out of you, sure, but you’re not my mom. I already have one of those, and you will never replace her. Do I make myself clear?”

The woman furrowed her brow. “If you insist, then fine, I’ll allow you to call Victoria-”

“You’ll ‘allow’ nothing,” Amy snapped. “Victoria Donahue is my mother. You… I don’t know you. I’ve got a lot of questions for you, but don’t pretend that we’re family.”

“Of course we’re-”

“You left when I was a baby. You do not have the right to say that,” Amy said.

Anger flashed across the woman’s face like a lightning bolt, but it soon faded, leaving only a bemused specter in its place. “Very well. She must love you very much, for you to be so loyal to her.”

“Yes,” Amy said. “Now. Why did you come here?”

“Can I come inside? It’s cold out here.”

“You-,” Amy started, but then Nicole tapped her shoulder and gestured to Matt with her head. “Yes. Yes, you may. Sorry about the mess- we have people over.”

They sat the woman down at the kitchen table, her back to the living room. Amy poured her a cup of coffee, then pulled up a chair and sat down and glared at her ‘mother.’

“So,” Amy said, “Astra.”

“Yes, that works. Amanda-”

“Amy. Everyone calls me Amy.”

“... Don’t you think that’s a bit childish?”

“No. I don’t,” Amy said. 

“Yeah!” Nicole said, trying to be forceful. It mostly sounded awkward. 

“... I’m sorry, who are you?” Astra said. 

“Nicole,” she answered.

“She’s my roommate. And also, one of my best friends,” Amy said. When she tried to be forceful it worked, unlike Nicole- not fair. 

“Ah, yes. The tranny.”

Nicole felt the proverbial dagger rip through her chest. Amy just slammed her hand on the table and lit it up with White Light. “Call her that again and I’ll kill you,” Amy hissed. 

Astra rolled her eyes. “Fine. ‘Nicole.’ Do you mind giving my daughter and I-”

“I do mind,” Nicole said, gritting her teeth.

“I mind as well,” Amy said. 

“Same here,” Cass said as she stood up, Matt right behind her. 

Under the table, Nicole gave Matt a thumbs-up; when she looked at him, he had recognition on his face. Good, he knew what they were trying- that would make this easier, if only infinitesimally so. Nicole sat down next to Amy. “Anything you have to say to my friend, you’ll say in front of all of us.”

Astra stared at Nicole flatly, then looked back at Amy. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“This is the one who you’re throwing everything away for?”

“What?!”

“She’s not throwing anything away,” Nicole growled. “Now tell us what you’re doing here!”

Astra sighed. “Fine. I’m here to parley. Aman… Amy. You know what I am, don’t you? You know about your heritage?”

Behind Astra, Cass nudged Debbi and Heather awake, and put a finger over her lips to keep them silent. 

Amy snarled, “Yes. I know what you are. A demon. A succubus. Explains why I’ve never had any trouble getting laid. Thanks for that one, if literally nothing else.”

Astra stared at her daughter with narrow, disgusted eyes. “You use your body for such banal matters- repugnant.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“That’s not how you’re supposed to use what you have. Engaging in carnal actions for no reason besides your own pleasure? What’s wrong with you? That’s not what it’s for, not what we’re for- it’s a weapon, girl, a means to an end. To simply use our gifts for pleasure alone isn’t just unnatural, it’s disgusting.”

“... I cannot believe I’m hearing this. From a literal sex monster, no less.”

“If you’re using your body for no reason other than to act like a whore-”

This time, it was Nicole who slammed a hand on the table, as Astra was shaming her daughter, as Amy was fighting back tears of shame and loathing. “Call her that again, and I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Kill me? You don’t have it in you, boy.”

Nicole’s hands glowed white. “Try me.”

Astra chuckled. “I don’t even know why I’m saying all this. It’s the truth, but it’s not what I came here to talk to you about.”

“Then why are you here?” Amy whispered, eyes red and puffy.

Astra exhaled. “What do you know about Winona? Her goals?”

Nicole reiterated the information they had been given. “Is any of that remotely true?”

“It’s all true,” Astra said, her facing twisting with shock as she said it. Behind her, Matt’s eyebrows shot up- Astra was probably starting to catch on to the fact that something was off. Regardless, she continued, “Winona cannot be allowed to conquer Hell.”

Amy folded her arms. “And you should?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To which part?”

“Both.”

Astra sighed. “Because of what Winona wants to do to make it happen. She told you about her father, Samyaza, and how his corpse is trapped beneath the Floodwater? She wants him back. All the Soul Energy she’s been harvesting- that’s the real reason she wants it. She knows that if she can resurrect her father, they’ll be able to conquer Hell and remake it however they want.”

“Putting aside the fact that she has to murder people to do that,” Amy said, “I’ve yet to hear why you’re a better option. Why do you want to take over Hell? What do you gain from it?”

“Everything will finally be as it should be,” Astra said. “I was with Lucifer when he Fell. I was a General in his rebellion. I’m still loyal to his vision: a Great Machine with an Infernal Engine, fueled by the souls of the damned, able to burn away the sins of the universe. If it runs properly, perhaps it can even cleanse my sin.”

Amy… Amy just laughed, shoulders slumped, disbelief in her eyes, bitterness self-evident. “What, you mean all the child support you owe?”

“You mock me, girl? A wretched, promiscuous dyke like you-”

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Debbi said. She stood behind Astra and gripped her shoulder tight. “Hi, I’m from Amy’s real family, and on behalf of us all, fuck you, bitch.”

White light began to hum out and burned the flesh on Astra’s shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t dare- I’m the only thing you have on Winona,” Astra snarled. 

“Then keep talking, but maybe stop being an asshole about it,” Debbi spat. 

“Tell us something useful, or we will send you packing,” Amy said simply. 

Astra grimaced, but said, “I lead the Army of Monsters. Leviathan, the Dragons, the Hellhounds, the Succubi, and the other Manifest are all loyal to me. If Winona succeeds in resurrecting her father, which she is very close to doing, you will need my help. Winona doesn’t know her father as well as she thinks she does: if Samyaza returns, he will not be content to rule over Hell alone. He will set his sights on the Earth, and eventually on Heaven as well. What I want is order and stability: a place for everything, and everything in its place. No coloring outside the lines, so to speak.”

“And what if she fails?” Nicole asked. “What will you do if we stop her?”

Astra blinked, as if she’d legitimately never considered that. “Then all this ceases to be an issue. You can simply help me deal with the other threats to my rightful rule-”

“What’s my place?” Amy asked. 

“... What?”

“Your grand design. What’s my place in that?” Amy asked. “Me and the others- I can’t be the only kid you’ve sired over the eons. I know you only came to me because I’m useful to you. So where do you see me, when everything is in its place?”

Astra smiled, completely sincere, with a spark of hope. “In Hell, with me, fulfilling your duty as a succubus, of course. We are the arbitrators of sexuality- we can prevent deviancy from occurring any further through careful control. No more adultery, no more sodomy, no more promiscuity, no more lust. We’ll be free. We’ll not be whores anymore, Amanda- we can finally be free and pure, purged of these hideous carnal desires. You won’t have to feel the pain of your attraction to this abomination you call Nicole any longer; nobody will. Everyone will be free and clean, and under control.”

“Under whose control?” Amy asked. “Yours?”

“Of course,” Astra said. “Mother knows best, after all. Now, I normally wouldn’t be this candid- I’m guessing one of you has some sort of truth compulsion ability. Is it you, mongrel sister to my beloved daughter?”

Debbi’s hand glowed. 

“That’s what I thought,” Astra said, grinding her teeth through the pain. “I’ll see myself out. Think about my offer, though. I’m around whenever you need me. Momma’s always here.”

In a plume of black and purple flames, the General of the Monsters vanished. 

Debbi let the light fade from her hand.

Nicole, eyes wide, chest pounding, stared straight ahead. 

Amy slumped over on the table and buried her face in her hands. 

Outside, the rainfall tripled in intensity, and javelins of lightning flew across the cloudy sky. The lights in the apartment died alongside a thunderclap, leaving the team to huddle together for warmth and safety in the rising dark. 

[ask-the-riders]

Playlist #8: Retribution

Ignite - Alan Walker

Diamond Heart - Alan Walker

Love The Way You Lie - Alan Walker

Lost Control - Alan Walker

Dancing With A Wolf - All Time Low

Alone - Alan Walker

Another Way Out - Hollywood Undead

I Can Walk On Water - Basshunter

Believer - Imagine Dragons

Redemption - Besomorph and Coopex

Nightmare - Besomorph and RIELL

Anxiety - The Tech Thieves and Besomorph

I'd Rather Burn - Blackbriar

Success Is The Best Revenge - Blood On The Dance Floor

Break My Mind - DAGames

Eat You Alive - Cadmium x Skrybe x RIELL

Centuries - Fall Out Boy

Circles - Jubyphonic

Control - Halsey

Crazy - From Ashes To New

Darkside - Alan Walker

Demons - Imagine Dragons

Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! At The Disco

Every Time The Rain Comes Down - Anna Blue

Everybody Cries Sometimes - Damien Dawn

I Can't Fix You - CG5

Born Without A Heart - Faouzia

Far From Home - Five Finger Death Punch

Gone Away - Five Finger Death Punch

Poison - Groove Coverage

Get Out - DAGames

Haunting My Dreams - Groundbreaking

How Does It Feel? - Anna Blue

I Love The Sound Of Silence - Disturbed x Eminem

I'll Kill You That Way - Slashstreet Boys

Circles - KIRA ft Gumi

Close Your Eyes//In The Next Life - KIRA

Monster - KIRA ft Gumi

Karma - Jubyphonic

Rise - Katy Perry

Left Behind - DAGames

Bloody Mary - Lady Gaga

Judas - Lady Gaga

Legends Never Die - Against The Current

Monster - Aruvn

Monster - Beth Crowley

Natural - Imagine Dragons

No Hero - JT Machinima

What You Deserve - No Resolve

Open Up Your Eyes - CG5

The Hurt Incantation (?) - Rapunzel's Tangled Adventures

Counting Sheep - Safia

Monster - Starset

Tokyovania Control - SharaX

Silent Scream - Anna Blue

Feel Invincible - Skillet

Ego - Smash Into Pieces

Everything They Say - Smash Into Pieces

Godsent - Smash Into Pieces

Wake Up - Smash Into Pieces

Soul 4 Sale - Simon Curtis

Sweet Dreams - Aviators

I'm Dangerous - The Everlove

The Ghost - NIVIRO

The Return - NIVIRO

Dangerous - The Tech Thieves and Besomorph

The Kraken Theme - Pirates of the Caribbean

Titanium - David Guetta

Judgement - TryHardNinja

Unforgiven - Blood On The Dance Floor

Everything Black - Unlike Pluto

Wash It All Away - Five Finger Death Punch

Shot In The Dark - Within Temptation

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing - Set It Off

Nightmares - A-ONE

No Guardian Angel - A-ONE

Time Will Tell - A-ONE

We Know What Scares You - TryHardNinja

Ainsi Bas La Vida - Indila

Alejandro - Lady Gaga

All Eyes On Me - OR3O

What About Love - Austin Mahone

Black Christmas - Jubyphonic

Bullet - Hollywood Undead

Dangerous - Cascada

Fears - CG5

Davy Jones - Fialeja and Man On The Internet

Evermore - Dan Stevens

Crawling - CG5

Let Me Through - CG5

Faded - Alan Walker

False Desire - Deskant

Hello Hello - CG5

Happy Halloween (Eng. Cover) - Jubyphonic

Heroes Tonight - Janji

How Far I'll Go - Chase Holfelder

WTF - Hugel ft Amber Van Day

I Got No Time - CG5

I Scare Myself - Beth Crowley

I'd Rather Drown - Set It Off

Whatever It Takes - Imagine Dragons

I'm In Love (With A Killer) - Jeffree Star

People Like Us - Kelly Clarkson

Dangerous - Left Boy

Land Of Broken Promises - IAMX

Warriors - League Of Legends

Proud - Marshmello

Medicine - Hollywood Undead

Miracle - CG5/Alicia Michelle

Nightmares - All Time Low

Stand Out Fit In - One Ok Rock

Oh No! - Marina and The Diamonds

One Hell Of A Team - LeeandLie

Reap What You Sow - CG5

Phantom - Nathan Sharp

Pirates of the Caribbean theme

Play Date - Melanie Martinez

Regular Sans (Pacifist Version) - Groundbreaking

Towards The Sun - Rihanna

In Your Eyes - Robin Schulz

SOS - Indila

This Christmas (I'll Burn It To The Ground) - Set It Off

Arcadia - Smash Into Pieces

The Game (Womanizer) - Smash Into Pieces

Spotlight - CG5

Starlight Starbright - S3RL

Monster I Have Become - Three Days Grace x Skillet

Telephone - Lady Gaga ft Beyoncé

House Of The Rising Sun - Chase Holfelder

The Killing Kind - Mariana's Trench

They'll Find You - Griffinilla

We Are Aware - Dolvondo

Welcome To The Show - Britt Nicole

Who Owns My Heart - Miley Cyrus

Aquarius - Within Temptation

You Can't Hide - JT Machinima

Faded - Cascada

Reaper - Glaceo and RIELL

House Of Memories - Panic! At The Disco

Medusa - Aiobahn

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Mud

Pairing: Archie Hopper x Nicole Hopper ft. Hopper kids

Summary: Ichabod and Bella get into some rainy day mischief

A/N: I am absolutely clearing out my drafts

Ichabod had been getting more mischievous than either Nic or Archie could handle. The worst part was that he had been dragging his 2 year old sister along in his mischief. She would giggle as her brother did whatever he was doing, and he’d grin at his parents when he was caught. Nothing too extreme happened yet, but Archie was very surprised when he got to his office one morning and found the notes from his last session had been doodled on.

Nic had the day off from the bakery, she trusted Archie could handle it himself, he’s done it twice already at the end of both of her pregnancies. She was busy with the housework and some calm baking. Ichabod and Bella were playing in the living room, or at least they were supposed to be. Their mother was too preoccupied balancing the laundry basket in one hand and getting a tray of cupcakes out of the oven with the other.

Ichabod had made his way to the front door and opened it, Bella curiously behind her older brother. The door creaked open slightly, and Pongo was the first to slip through. The Dalmatian ran outside into the rain and the two young Hoppers followed. They carefully went down the steps, giggling at the rain.

Ichabod held his blanket tightly as he watched Pongo lay on the grass and roll, a little bit of mud from the ground catching on his fur. Icha giggled and stuck his hand into the muddy yard, picking up a clump of mud that barely fit in his hand. He looked at his little sister who was sitting on the grass, giggling at Pongo. It wasn’t long before the kids got dirty. They stuck their hands into the mud, rolled in it, and giggled all the while. Pongo helped as he dug up patches of muddy yard, and Ichabod picked whatever clumps he could and threw them at his sister.

Archie pulled into the driveway and the moment he stepped out of the car, his eyes widened at the sight of his children and Pongo in the yard, all covered in mud. He locked the car and rushed over to them, and at the same time the kids ran to him.

“What are you two do–”

“Papa!” Ichabod and Bella shouted. They attached themselves to either of his legs, covering his pants in mud. He didn’t care that he was soaked from the rain or had mud on his pants now.

Nic rushed out of the house quickly, running down the porch stairs. “Ichabod, Elizabella, I stopped looking at you two for five minutes.” She quickly grabbed the muddy two year old from Archie’s leg and held her. Archie picked up Ichabod and held him close. Nic looked at her husband, both ignoring the rain. “What are you doing home?”

“I came to have my lunch break with you and the kids.” He told her, watching a muddy Pongo run through the yard. “I didn’t expect to come home to the kids in the yard.”

“We need to give them baths.” Nic said, and Archie nodded. “I’ll take Bella, you take Icha.”

“What about Pongo?”

Nic sighed. “I’ll wash the kids, you wash the dog.”

An hour later, the two clean Hopper kids were playing in their rooms and Pongo happily slept on the bay window with Perdita. Archie and Nic cleaned up the mud that had been tracked in the house, and they started to change into clean clothes. Nic glanced at her husband in the mirror as he changed his shirt.

“This wasn’t how I expected to spend my lunch break,” he chuckled.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to spend the time with us you wanted to.” Nic apologized as she tugged on a t-shirt.

He looked at her and noticed in the mirror that she had a frown etched on her face. He stepped over and hugged her from behind. “Hey, you don’t need to apologize. We have two kids, nothing is ever going to go as planned for us.” When she didn’t respond, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “This isn’t about my lunch break, is it?”

“I was so busy I didn’t even notice them slip out. What if they left the yard? What if they got hurt? Anything could’ve happened and it would’ve been my fault. I feel like I’m a horrible mother.”

“Hey,” he squeezed her waist, “don’t say that.”

“Something could’ve happened because I wasn’t paying attention. What kind of mother am I?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“You’re a good one,” he brought his hands up to her shoulders and rubbed them.

“But if something happened–”

“Nothing did, though. You kept a good eye on them.” Nic said nothing in response. “The kids are safe, and they’re in their rooms. You don’t need to worry anymore.” He told her.

“I’ll always worry about them. I’m their mother, that’s my job.”

He smiled. “See? You’re amazing at it.” He kissed her cheek. “I have to get back to the bakery, but I’ll be back later.”

“I promise we’ll all be clean when you get back.”

“I hope so.” He smiled. “But I might need another shower, the bakery does get hot.”

She playfully elbowed him as Ichabod called for his mother from his room. “You can make innuendos when the kids are asleep tonight. Go to work. I need to take care of our mischief makers.”

Archie kissed her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she called to them as she headed down the hall to Ichabod’s room.

[mother-ofwriting]

So, a massive update on that fanfic I was working on (well not so massive for those following its progress thus far but uhhh ponies)- I’ve managed to complete the first movie and am currently re-writing the second! (If you want links to the fanfic or any specific chapters just ask).

At any rate, onto what this post is about- I was wondering on if this bit of dialogue I had written was bad, or if it sounded decent... More info (and the scene itself) under the cut!

The scene takes place about three years into Herbie and Reid knowing each other- Herbie is currently not racing and is instead staying at the firehouse with Reid, Nicole, and Mrs. Steinmetz. The two tried to ship Nicole and Willoughby during the day, but... Nicole got pissed and smacked Willoughby into the nearest harbor. It is presently the night thereof.

For reference: Reid is a mute, and appears human from the outside- both she and Herbie are Cybertronians in disguise.

(Please give me comments- good or bad [so long as it’s constructive!]. ^_^)

<>

        "Are you doing alright?" Reid clicked her tongue. She pulled the mug of water she had been drinking closer to herself. Mrs. Steinmetz wouldn't hear anything of Reid refusing sustenance anymore, even if it was only bare necessities. The fact annoyed her, but at the same time, she knew that Mrs. Steinmetz just cared. She cast a glance to Herbie. He had been parked in the firehouse. His frame was rested just so, directly across from the doors that would allow him to dash off if need be.

        "Of course. Are you okay?" She took a sip of the water. It was room-temperature, bland as tofu, and... Well, basically just there. It sifted through her internal sieve. "... Today has been more on the hectic side."

        "Well yes I'm okay." Herbie's headlights swiveled towards Reid. "I am just trying to figure out where to go from that toss earlier."

        "Well,-.... But....- Primus... I'm going to be honest, I think it's out of our servos. Willoughby was sopping wet after all, and I think  he was shivering more from terror than cold earlier... And Nicole didn't seem too pleased with him earlier, but who knows. I will admit, however, that pulling the jousting stunt was hilarious."

        ".... I can do something, I just need to figure out what!"

        "Herbie, if you run in there headlights blazing, you'll probably scare him more than anything else... And that would get him further away from Nicole... If I tried something, it might end in a shouting match- or a call to the hospital... So you and I are going to have to take a backseat on this. We might be able to try asking grandma for some help in the morning, but I won't be making any promises."

        The bug gave a low grumble of his engine. He rested a hint more on his tires, resulting in bringing his frame closer to the floor of the firehouse. Reid took a sip of her water.

        "I just don't want either of us hurting their relationship." She huffed softly. ".... It is annoying to have to sit this one out, though."

        "You got that right." Herbie's headlights returned forward. A familiar ping rang out through her systems. Low battery, but not low enough to commence an automatic recharge. She quickly chugged the rest of her water. The mug was washed and put away with little fanfare, although Reid did try to keep her volume low. Mrs. Steinmetz was asleep by a long shot, but she could never be too careful.

        "...... Remember Cybertron?" Herbie stood up a little.

        "Yeah.- What's brought this on?"

        "I just have nights.... Where I can't help but think,- the streets, the 'bots, the entire thing... The buildings and the projects, how I used to be a dependable construction femme, and then the enlistment, but... I still think about before all this happened,- and-.... And I get...."

        "Homesick." Reid paused. The messages had nearly collided in the air, resulting in the faintest metal crackle along her thoughts. Herbie's EM Field flickered in and out, a somber rain with only a peak or two of sunlight.

        "And sometimes, it gets really bad... And you just want to hide away in your memories, and pretend that you're back on Cybertron... Running around, free... And then you online your optics... And you're back on Earth.."

        ".... Yeah... But- it's not always really bad... Sometimes... You think about all the friends you've made... All the people you've talked to... And you realize that if you hadn't been drafted..."

        "... You wouldn't have ever met them..." Reid stepped to the edge of the kitchen, locking eye-to-headlight with Herbie. Silence reigned. 

[d-s-winchester]

Salem

(gif credit to the creator)

Part Six

Master List

Pairing: Misha x OFC Word Count: 1,936 Warnings: None? Language probably A/N: Part six is here ladies and gents! Thank you all so much for your support on this! I know it’s been almost a year since I’ve posted any writing but I thought coming back with one of my favorite fics on the first day of my favorite month of the year would be the best way to do it! As always a HUGE thank you to Nicole (aka @iwantthedean) for betaing this for me, without her this story would never see the light of day. Anyway, feedback for this is awesome! :)

Misha didn’t broach the subject of anything personal with Ophelia over the next few days, even though he desperately wanted to. While he stuck to the subject of his research for the novel and avoided the subject of her personal life, he could see her distancing further and further from him as the days passed. He did receive a respite from his concerns when she invited him over for dinner a few days after she had told him about seeing Christopher, and how her boyfriend had died.

He sat at the island counter in Ophelia’s kitchen, thumbing through the books she had given him to aid his research, but not concentrating much on the content. His mind was dwelling on something in particular, but as he feared that thing could scare Ophelia off, Misha kept his thoughts to himself all through dinner.

“You okay?” Ophelia asked as she cleared the dinner table.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just seem...distant. I don’t know.” She shrugged, taking the stack of plates to the sink.

Misha nodded, though he knew that didn’t really answer her original inquiry. He helped her clear away the rest of the plates and dishes from the dinner table, then waited patiently while she packaged away the leftovers before joining him at the sink. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes while she washed, and Misha dried. Finally, when Misha’s thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone, he broke the silence.

“How would you feel about having dinner with me?” Misha blurted out, sticking a plate in the drying rack.

“We just had dinner,” Ophelia pointed out, frowning.

“No,” Misha chuckled, “I know we did. I mean, not here. Not tonight. At a restaurant or something, on a different night.”

Ophelia was so shocked she fumbled with the plate she was washing, nearly dropping it to the floor. Placing it safely in the sink, Ophelia turned to face him, leaning her elbow on the counter.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Misha Collins?”

“I am,” he smiled.

Ophelia smiled, picked up the plate again, and continued washing it. Though she knew what she wanted to answer, she figured there was no harm done in letting him sweat it out a little while she pretended to think it over.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” she finally said, handing him the freshly washed plate.

“Perfect,” he grinned. Relief flooded both his voice and his features. “How does tomorrow night sound?”

“I think I can make that work.”

They finalized the details of their date as they finished up the dishes; once the kitchen was cleaned up, Misha was able to concentrate on his research. After they both wrapped up a few hours of reading, Ophelia walked him to the door. Misha promised to pick her up promptly at eight o’clock the next evening, then went on his way. He smiled all the way back to the bed and breakfast.

***

Ophelia closed the shop early the next night so she would have plenty of time to prepare for her date with Misha. As she tore through her closet, looking for something to wear, Christine sat on her bed flipping through a magazine. Their quarrel from the day before seemed to have been forgotten, and Ophelia thought that Christine had even accepted that Misha was interested in Ophelia and not Christine.

“How about this?” Ophelia asked, coming out of her walk-in closet in a skin tight black dress.

“Dude, no,” Christine laughed, “you look like a sausage wrapped in cheap lingerie.”

“I should probably just throw this dress out then?” Ophelia chuckled. “I’ve had this since junior year of high school.”

“Yeah, back when you had a body to accommodate it,” Christine pointed out. “You’re thinner than my pinky but you’ve gained some weight since then. Toss it.”

Ophelia nodded and tossed the dress to the side before going back to her closet. A few minutes later she came back out in an empire waist dress made of white lace. The second Christine looked up from the magazine, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

“Lia, yes. You look amazing,” she said, forgetting the magazine and sitting up to face her friend. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear white before. It works for you. You should wear white all the time!”

“You have too seen me in white,” Ophelia laughed. “Senior prom, remember? But are you sure this looks okay? I mean, is it too far out of my comfort zone?”

“Well, tonight is about throwing caution to the wind, right?” Christine asked; Ophelia nodded. “Then I say go for it. Do some simple makeup instead of your usual smoky look, throw on a splash of color with some cute heels, and you’ll be set.”

Ophelia grinned at Christine and clapped her hands in excitement before sitting down at her vanity. While she worked on a makeup look that was natural but didn’t lose the essence of her personality, Christine worked on curling Ophelia’s hair in perfectly tousled waves. At eight o’clock sharp, Ophelia’s doorbell rang. Christine misted her friend’s curls with hairspray one last time.

“You sure I look okay?” Ophelia asked again as she slipped her feet into a pair of bright turquoise pumps.

“You look stunning,” Christine assured her. “Don’t forget to grab that gray sweater, it’s cold out and you’re gonna be sitting outside. Don’t worry, I’ll lock up when I leave.”

“Thank you,” Ophelia grinned, kissing her friend on the cheek, “you’re the best.”

“I try,” Christine giggled as she pushed Ophelia towards the door. “Now, go, have fun! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Ophelia laughed and waved goodbye to her friend as she made her way down the stairs to meet Misha at the door.

***

When Christine finally arrived at home she was anxiously awaiting the opportunity to have a glass of wine, watch a movie, and head to bed. That was all derailed, however, when she saw Christopher pacing back and forth in her living room.

“I can’t believe you’re letting her go through with this!”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Christine said, dropping her purse on the table near the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at her brother’s angry greeting.

“You can’t let her get close to him, Chrissy,” Christopher groaned. “How am I ever supposed to get her back if she’s off galavanting with that writer!”

Christopher couldn’t even bring himself to say Misha’s name, and Christine felt bad about the distress Ophelia’s potential new relationship had caused for her brother.

“You need to fix it,” Christopher pleaded. “Ruin their night. I don’t care what you do, but make it so they never want to see each other again.”

“Chris --”

“No, Chrissy,” Christopher argued, “you have to fix it.”

Christine thought for a minute before letting out a sigh and running her fingers through her hair.  “Okay, fine. I don’t like it, but I’m sure there’s something I can do.”

“Thank you!”

Christine assured him that it was no problem and made her way up to her bedroom to search through the grimoire. She knew that Ophelia and Misha would be dining outside, and the best thing she could come up with was making it rain. Though she had an obligation to her brother to try something, Christine genuine didn’t want to ruin Ophelia’s night. The rain wouldn’t force the night to end, but it would move the date inside. Deciding that was a happy medium, Christine cast the spell.

***

As soon as Ophelia and Misha were seated at their table, the clouds poured their contents out onto the town. The rain soaked their hair and clothes as they ran back inside the restaurant; all of Christine’s work on Ophelia’s curls was now in vain. Misha asked for a table inside, but the hostess apologized that all the indoor tables were booked. Determined to make the night work, Misha thanked her. Once safely back in his car, Ophelia pointed him in the direction of another restaurant not too far away.

When they arrived, they were seated quickly and looked over the menus, deciding what they wanted to eat. After placing their order and receiving their drinks, Misha smiled at Ophelia, letting out a relieved breath that they were finally settled on their date.

“You look amazing,” he stated, “white is a good color for you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, blushing slightly, “you don’t look so bad yourself. That shirt really brings out the blue in your eyes.”

“Really?” he chuckled, “I just threw it together. Wasn’t expecting to go on any dates while I’m here.”

“Well, it works.”

It wasn’t long before their food was brought out. Despite their evenings spent together at her house, Ophelia had found herself concerned that their conversation would only revolve around the bookstore and witchcraft lore, but she was pleasantly surprised that the conversation seemed to cover anything but. She was so distracted by the conversation that it wasn’t long after their food was brought to the table when she spilled her red wine on her stark white dress. Misha practically leapt over the table to help her clean it up, but she assured him it would be fine. The dry cleaner could get the stain out.

They made it through dinner without any more mishaps and, deciding not to chance their bad luck, Misha drove Ophelia home. They didn’t have to call it a night, but maybe it was better to be home. Halfway to her house, the car seemed jolted violently; Misha pulled off to the side of the road. Ophelia sat in the passenger seat patiently as he assessed the situation.

“I’ve got a flat,” he explained, opening the driver side door, “give me a minute and we’ll be ready to go.”

“Need help?”

“You know how to change a flat?”

“I’m a woman, I’m not useless,” she laughed.

“Then yes, I would love your help,” he grinned.

It took them almost half an hour to change the tire in the pouring rain, but once it was fixed, they made it safely back to Ophelia’s house. Misha parked his car in front of the modest-sized Cape Cod and got out, opening the car door for her. Rain pounded the ground around them as they made way up to her front steps.

“So, this date turned out to be somewhat of a disaster. I apologize,” Misha laughed.

“Don’t,” Ophelia chuckled, “it was perfect.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Am I … crossing boundaries here?”

“You’re not,” she assured him, wrapping her arms around his neck in return. “Despite the rain, wine spil,l and flat tire, I had a wonderful time tonight, Misha. Really”

“Me too,” he agreed.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers as the rain continued to fall around them. When they finally broke apart, Ophelia smiled up at him.

“We should do this again.”

“Absolutely,” Misha grinned.

“I’ll see you at the shop tomorrow?” she asked, hope edging each syllable.

“Definitely.”

Ophelia took a chance and pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She smiled as she pulled away. “I’ll see you at the shop tomorrow. Thank you again, Misha, for an amazing night.”

“Anytime,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough.

He watched her walk into the house, giving her a small wave as she walked inside, then walked back to his car, hoping for an uneventful drive back to the bed and breakfast.  

[ghjdeacon]

The longer I put it off the more difficult it becomes, so I’m going to have to get on and write this blog if I like it or not. Please excuse all the errors, I try and correct them as I go along but it’s sometimes hard to spot them! Even though they’re obvious .

Here I am in a place called Saly which is a small resort town about an hour and a half south of Dakar. Victor has gone to Bamako for work and for a short period I considered going as well. After all I’ve never been to Mali and Nicky Fenton is there. but I can’t go anywhere as I have no passport, it’s being processed for a Visa at the Guinean embassy.

To recap, After dropping David off at leyoune airport, I spent a couple of days with Robert Powell and then sped through the rest of Western Sahara to the border with Mauritania. What a scruffy place The whole experience was pretty unpleasant but the gap between Morocco and Mauritania was as bad a road as I have driven on and literally covered in crap in plastic bags and bottles et cetera! Needless to say they were fixers there which I didn’t really need but who were actually quite useful but I find myself stuck with a fellow all the way to najinhibbou which is just over the border. I say just over the border but more like 50 km at the end of a long spit. It is a very busy port town and bustling! And very hot with millions of cars and chaotic roads. I am rescued by a fellow called Omar who claims to be a teacher but like most of The disarmingly friendly strangers who meet you (rather than the other way round,) they are after the money in my pocket nevertheless he is very friendly and we have an amusing evening together, and I cannot fault him for his friendliness.

Conscious that Mauritania isa big country but only have 10 days to get through it I don’t want to hang around especially if I get the information and meet somebody who is going to go with me to go and see inland(The customs man was only going to give me three days to transit the country and! I had to persuade him to give me more time in case I wanted to stay and see the country! As it turns out he was right and I was wrong there is nothing to see in Mauritania .

The road is pretty easy to follow but it’s broken pavement and some of the potholes are dreadful requiring very careful concentration to avoid breaking anything, but there is plenty of wide open space alongside the road to pull off and kip for the night

Nouakchott turned out to be a pleasant surprise there is money in the cashpoints more than half the time (that is cif you can find one and there are plenty around) it was not insanely hot, there was a supermarket near where I was staying in and then traffic was not too chaotic". Overall a whole lot better than that place I could never spell on the Mauritanian border, I. After a night and day resting I set off for the border with Senegal 7 hours or more further self. I camped in the most amazing place in the middle of nowhere but had rather a good journey down aiming for the crossing that was not at Rosso that is the western crossing the Western crossing point going to the Darwwing National Park which is also very impressive here the road is rough and would be impossible in the winter or when there is any rain. For some reason the journey takes forever, maybe I have taken the odd wrong route, or stopped longer than expected on the way, or simply I have just underestimated the distance but it’s quite pleasant and eventually reach the frontier barrage across the river Senegal.

It all sounds so simple in the guidebooks. the books say it cost nothing and is manageable yet everybody expected A wedge ofmy money! I don’t mind too much but it would be nice to know in advance so you are carrying the right amount of change and then prepare for it rather than eking out every coin in your pocket or door! But after about three hours im through and on my way to Saint Louis the northern town of Senegal. Yet again, I am helped by some fixer I did not want and have to get him into town to give him some cash I didn’t have, but to be honest he was still quite helpful and take him to the hotel deal with the camp for the night.

St Louis is a bustling fishing town and very charming in its way. But I can’t hang around because I only have a three day pass which I have to get extended down in Dakar before I can do anything else so again, the next evening I set off. One of the golden rules is not to drive at night in Africa for all the reasons you can imagine. I am quite uncomfortable doing so except for two things. If you leave late enough there is no traffic on the road and you can avoid the real hassle as most people are home. for me traffic and bicycles and pedestrians all mixed together is the worst thing. Secondly you can see vehicles coming along way away because nowadays they tend to have loads of work, thirdly I don’t feel too tired at night and if I do I stop i’m set up camp straight away, and you won’t be plagued by onlookers: also, if you happen to have lots of police checkpoints they will either be pleased to see you will be asleep so you can drive on and finally you end up in the right place in the right order, in the dark now before the traffic really got going. So having had a peaceful drive listening to an audible book I got to the port of data where I need to be before the traffic was up and so could find a parking place and was ready for action.

The only problem was I’ve been directed to go to the wrong place! But people are very friendly and helpful and a chap helped me get a taxi and then watched over my car in the car park and sent me on my way to the Axa building to get my pass extended. All very straightforward as it turned out and nobody wanted any backhanders. So I was quite pleased

Then it was just a question of finding out where Victor lives and heading off in that direction. Which I managed not to do getting into all the traffic! But I eventually got to Ngor and with a whole bunch of help , his house.

Since then, which I think was Tuesday last I have been staying with Victor, and Nicole and having a very peaceful time just doing the odd chore-andthere are plenty of them much to my frustration, and the amazement of some. Of note (David take note in particular) the blinking wing mirror dropped out on the journey down and I had to get it replaced. I hadn’t realised how vulnerable I feel notbeung abBeing able to seel behind me properly so I was very keen to get it done immediately. So with victors driver we set off and can you believe it, I was stopped twice by the police twice in about 200 metres and the second one fined me for having a broken wing mirror even as we were talking to the chap who is going to mend it and heconfiscated my driving license until I pay the fine! In retrospect it’s stupid and rather amusing but at the time was One of the long snakes on the board and cause me deep, deep frustration. But, I eventually Got the mirror (retro Visa) repaired and I’m good to go again. I’ve even had the van washed and cleaned out so it is neat and tidy and now it’s just a question of waiting for my visas to be approved or not.

But yesterday I heard the border between Senegal and guinea may be closed and that changes things significantly. The question is is Guinea-

Victor and Nicole but they have been quite superb to me and insist upon me relaxing and enjoying myself, and I think they are right in fact I am feeling much better having been here for a few days and I’m not so achy and stiff as I was. I am inclined to write something about Parkinson ‘s soon and will do so. This is not to extract any sympathy from anybody or anything like that but just to explain to people who don’t know about Parkinson is what it does and how it feels. And putting right once and for all the curious British tradition of always asking how people are and getting the response “I’m fine thank you“ when half the time you’re feeling like death warmed up! I’m not feeling like death warmed up by the way but you know what I mean.

And it’s taken me for ever to do this much so I’m going to stop if you’ve even got this far reading it

[eadanga]

Work, Love, and Desire Part 12

Author note: This series is for @indiacater one of my winners for my 300 followers giveaway Hope you enjoy it and thank you for participating

Chris sweats as he runs around the block with his earphones in his ear. He stops at a bench to catch his breath and drinks some of his water. He wipes his face with a towel then continues. He enters into his apartment and checks his mail.

“Chris!”

He smiles and turns to see MC behind him “Hey baby” He reaches for her but she jumps out of the way

“Oh no you’re not touching me till you take a shower”

Chris chuckles “Sorry about that let’s head up to my place and I will change”

“Ok but till then keep your distance Powell”

Chris laughs as he follows her into the elevator “That’s gonna be hard beautiful”

“You’ll survive”

He laughs as they exit the elevator and enter his apartment. Chris heads to his bedroom to wash up and change out of his sweaty clothes. He returns and sits next to MC on the couch and wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer. He nuzzles her neck “Better?”

MC smiles “Much” He trails kisses down her neck as she sighs then playfully pushes him away “Quit distracting me I have something to tell you”

“I think it’s the other way around you’re the one distracting me”

MC rolls her eyes “Chris…”

“One more kiss please?”

MC sighs and kisses him softly on the lips. Chris wraps his arms around her and deepens it. MC pulls away “Satisfied?”

“Yeah I’m good now what do you have to tell me?”

“I think I know who’s been spying on us”

“Who is it?”

“Well I had a friend of mine track down where those pictures came from and he got an email address and it belonged to a reporter. So I went and I tracked him down and he told me a unknown female hired him she was covering her face but he did see her hair it was blond”

Chris clenches his jaw “Nicole…” He stands “That bitch she leave me the hell alone” He sighs and takes her hands in his “I’m sorry she’s ruining things because of me”

“It’s ok Chris it’s not your fault I say to hell with her”

Chris chuckles “I agree” He takes her hand “Let’s go”

“Where?”

“To confront her I wanna tell her exactly how I feel”

MC smiles “Ok I know she’s doing a shoot in the park now”

They drive over to the park and find Nicole posing as the camera flashes. MC rolls her eyes as she watches. When she spots them she smirks “Let’s take a break” She walks over to Chris “Hello there Chris” She narrows her eyes “MC” She turns back to Chris “So what brings you here?”

“I know it was you Nicole you’re the one thats been spying on us”

She looks stunned for a moment the she smiles “Ok you got me”

“What is your problem? Why are you hell bent on ruining my life?”

“You should have never rejected for me for her! Come on Chris don’t you remember we were so perfect together and we can be that way again”

“Really? Cause I remember us always arguing always fighting about the same thing but I brushed that all off because I loved you but you never loved me you only wanted my money and my fame”

“Chris I -”

He holds a hand up “Shut up I’m talking” She purses her lips “I thought I knew what love was when I was with you but now…” He wraps his arm around MC’s waist pulling her closer “I know what true love is. I love MC now and she is the one I want to be with and if you can’t deal with it too fucking bad cause I have no intention of leaving her” He kisses her on the cheek

Nicole scoffs “You’ll be back Chris this relationship wont last and I’ll be right here waiting for you”

“That’s not gonna happen I never want to associate myself with toxic people like you again come on MC”

He leads her away as Nicole shouts “You’ll be back you always come back!”

Chris rolls his eyes as MC smiles “You did great I’m proud of you”

“Thanks I’m glad you were here” He squeezes her hand and turns to rests his forehead against hers “I want to be with you no matter what anybody else says” MC can feel his heartbeat and heat radiating off him “I love you more than you can ever imagine”

“I love you too” He kisses her deeply as her cups her cheeks with both hands

He pulls away grinning “Hey I have to get to practice but you wanna go out tonight?”

“Sure you spoil me Chris”

“That’s my job I’ll see you later”

“Yeah you will” He kisses her softly and heads to his apartment to get his stuff for practice. After practice he heads back and changes for his date with MC. He drives over to her apartment where he finds her waiting for him.

She gets into his car and smiles “Hi”

“Hey you didn’t have to wait outside for me”

“Well the elevator is broken and I didn’t want you to climb stairs”

He smiles as he drive off “So glad you’re looking out for me”

“Your welcome so where are we going?”

“You’re not getting anything out of me”

MC groans “Come on Chris”

“Nope you’ll see when we get there”

She sighs “Ok”

He drives out a park. He get out and lead holds her door open for her and he covers her eyes.

“Chris is this necessary?”

“Yes that’s the point of a surprise”

MC giggles as they walk “Are we there yet?”

Chris chuckles “We hardly got anywhere”

“That suspense is killing me”

“Patience my love” They continue to walk till Chris stops her “Ok are you ready?”

“Yeah I’m ready”

“Ok 1…2…3” He removes his hands and MC eyes go wide. There are candles, red wine, dinner, and soft music playing under a gazebo.

MC turns to Chris “This is beautiful how did you have time to do all this?”

“I had some of guys help me out” They sit down and Chris watches as MC digs into the meal

“This is good did you make this?”

“Yeah it’s my grandma’s recipe”

“Well it’s delicious I love it”

He smiles and reaches across the table for her hand “I’m glad wanted to do something special for you just to show much you mean to me”

MC blushes “Thank you Chris”

After they finished their meals Chris walks over and lifts MC up by the hands “Let’s dance”

MC giggles “Of course”

Chris wraps his arms around her waist as MC wraps her arms around his neck. They sway together their eyes never leaving each other. Chris smiles as he leans in and kisses her deeply MC tangles her fingers in his hair.

Chris pulls away rests his forehead on her grinning. He leans in to kiss her again only to be stopped by droplets of rain. They look up and the rain pours down on them

Chris pulls her close as and shields her with his jacket “Come on let’s get out of here” They run to his car they get into the car laughing “You ok?”

MC wrings out her hair “Yeah”

Chris grabs towels and hands one to MC who dries off her hair laughing “Who knew our perfect date would get ruined by a down pour”

“I thought it was gonna be clear tonight you can never trust what the weatherman is saying”

“True but it was an amazing date”

“I’m glad you thought so” He kisses her softly “I should get you home I don’t want you to sick” He drives back to her apartment “I’ll see you later I’ve got something to do”

“Is something wrong?”

Chris smiles “No I gotta an appointment to keep”

“Ok you know you can tell me anything Chris”

“I know don’t worry I got this”

“Good see you later” She kisses his cheek and hurries inside

Chris watches as her go inside and he sighs. He drives off to an huge office building. He takes a deep breath I can do this

****

Gabriel is at his desk signing papers. His phone rings “Mr. Valentine Chris Powell is here to see you”

“Send him in”

Chris enters the office as Gabriel walk away from his desk and stares him right in the eye “You came”

“I said I would”

“It’s time you and I had a chat”

Tags: @indiacater @annekebbphotography @hopefulmoonobject @the-soot-sprite @furiousherringoperatortoad @cora-nova

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Glass House Machine Gun Kelly Ft Halsey

🎶All alone in the glass house

Lay awake 'til the sun's out

Thank the sky when you come down

Empty in the driveway

Caffeine for the heartache

Never wanna have it my way

[Verse 1: Machine Gun Kelly]

Yeah, I fuck up and lose control

Burnt so many bridges, got nowhere to go

Bitches got these motives like Anna Nicole

I'm smoking cigarettes alone until it burn a hole

In my lungs, in my soul, in my denim coat

Same place I'ma keep that knife if I'ma slit my throat

This shit ugly, I was just with Nipsey, now he ghost

They even got my homie Pete out here, like, fuck the jokes

Damn

[Chorus: Halsey & Machine Gun Kelly]

All alone in the glass house (Just keep it going)

Lay awake 'til the sun's out

Thank the sky when you come down

Sometimes I just wanna fucking scream or run away, I don't know

[Verse 2: Machine Gun Kelly]

Ayy, life's been hard since 17

I've been through hell, I think I'm somewhere inbetween

Caught in purgatory, I can paint the scene

Everything turned to a nightmare from a dream

Look, wish Lil Peep and me had smoke but I can't get that back

Just came from Pittsburgh, damn, I'll miss my homie Mac

Yeah, last time I got off the stage I looked Chester in the face

But now he gone, and ain't no going back, uh

Why don't you throw me in the damn rain?

Bury me in gold chains

Throw me the damn rain

I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away

Why don't you throw me in the damn rain?

Bury me in gold chains

Throw me the damn rain

[Verse 3: Machine Gun Kelly]

Lately I've been sick of living and nobody knows how I'm really feeling

I always hated a smile, but a keyboard is killing me, hidden inside

I didn't sign up to be the hero but I don't want to wind up a villain

I put my daughter to bed then attempted to kill myself in the kitchen

Yeah, I should've screamed, but nobody listened

So I passed out with the blood dripping

In this glass house, feeling like a prison

Me and death keep tongue-kissing

I just fell out with my lil' bro, the life getting to us

The drink getting to us, the drugs getting to us

It's highway to hell and everyone knew what the fuck were we doing

I'm feeling like

[Chorus: Halsey & Machine Gun Kelly]

Why don't you throw me in the damn rain?

Bury me in gold chains

Throw me the damn rain

I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away

Why don't you throw me in the damn rain?

Bury me in gold chains

Throw me the damn rain

[Refrain: Halsey]

All alone in the glass house

Lay awake 'til the sun's out

Thank the sky when you come down

Empty in the driveway

Caffeine for the heartache

Never wanna have it my way🎶

[coreshorts]

Long Game Short

BANG!

A shot impacted the rock behind which sat crouched a red-headed woman in a suit and thick-heeled boots, her hair tied up into a tight bun. White gloves grasped a revolver, held ready, though she dared not poke her head out yet, hawkish, dark brown eyes closing tight against the subsequent wash of intense flame that exploded from the magicked bullet. The delay was intentional, the fair-skinned woman knew, intended to draw her from her cover prematurely; she knew better from her opponent.

The shot and the roar of the flames echoed off across the coast, momentarily drowning out the sound of the sea far below. The cliffs were hardly the best place for a duel, especially one of this magnitude, but that had, of course been the point: she was at a severe disadvantage, a single rock for cover and the cliffs to her back. The choices were to jump out into the line of fire or to take her own life by plunging down to the sand yalms below.

She feinted, uttering a spell as she drew a single card from her suit’s jacket pocket which was lined with arcane geometries, to produce an illusory duplicate of herself that stood and took aim. A shot rang out, as expected, and it whizzed through the head of the duplicate, right at the throat - exactly what she needed.

Nicole Sol, known more often as Nico, waited scarcely another moment before pulling back the hammer on her gilded black firearm and, whispering a command word, leaned up over the rock and fired a shot downrange. The bullet screamed as the geometries burned upon it by the revolver lit up, a white aethereal tracer cutting a line through the air toward a smaller cliff a short ways up the hill inland. 

Though her assailant had long since fallen prone, taking advantage of the higher ground, the bullet she fired was not meant to strike flesh, but the dirt and stone beneath. It struck true, indeed, several fulms below the grassy hilltop. However, unlike the previous shot that she had weathered behind her cover, this bore no delay, the bullet’s spell activating with a deafening sonic boom which tore through the earth with devastating concussive force.

There he was. Tora’ji Polaali, a miqo’te man with, Nico had known for years, an intense hatred for the woman, had sought to launch a surprise attack on her here to put an end to their rivalry once and for all. Nico had willingly walked into the trap, confident that she could emerge the victor. That confidence remained, even as a bead of sweat rolled down her temple. The rustle of the man’s white coat, its violet pattern of concentric circles like chains and its silver buckles, his short black hair and dark ashen features became visible with the destruction of the ground beneath him. However, as he dove away from the eruption of dirt and stone, the glint of those violet shades he’d always worn tipped Nico off to the fact that she’d been spotted again. With a quick motion, he slammed down the hammer of his own revolver, barked his own command word, and fired.

The resulting shot had Nico ducking for cover once more as the shot multiplied tenfold, a rain of ammunition impacting all around her. If she’d been a second later, she would’ve been riddled with wounds, the duplicated bullets fading and leaving her to bleed out. She had no intention of letting this happen, nor did it. Instead, she used the time that Tora’ji would use to try getting to cover himself to rush further uphill.

As she leapt out of her cover, however, another command word caught her attention, even as the heavy footfalls of the man’s dark-plated boots tore grass up behind him as he sprinted for a new place to hide. Nico recognised it immediately as a seeking shot, meant to curve toward her; the spell would make it much more likely to hit her while they ran.

With the selfsame command word spoken hastily, she pivoted, diving for the indentation in the hill that she had created, and fired a seeking shot of her own. With both bullets magicked to arc toward their targets, they came dangerously close, their seeking magic like opposed magnets, causing them to spiral out of control and create a temporary vortex of aethereal currents that, upon its expiry, left the projectiles falling harmlessly to the ground.

Though neither hit their mark, Tora’ji and Nico had both still achieved their goal in this instance, Tora’ji to find new cover and Nico to gain even ground. There was a long pause before, finally, the man’s youthful voice shouted across the silence to her.

“I know you came here knowing I’d ambush you, Sol,” he shouted, his tone strained and breath short, but still somewhat calm - the man was yet to lose his cool - despite the ongoing firefight, “Out here, though? That hubris won’t help you. You’re no Conservator. You’re a glorified bloody bodyguard for an airhead of a Philosopher.”

“So you’ve said countless times, Tora’ji,” Nico shot back, breathing heavily from the sprint, but otherwise unruffled, herself, “Do you have aught to say that might actually interest me, or can we continue trying to kill one another?”

The answer was another crack of the man’s revolver and a wash of flame that rendered the earth around her blackened and singed, devoid of its greenery. Thankfully, the cover held. The Conservator’s response was quick and ruthless, no command word spoken as she used the time to reload her revolver, leaning out of her cover again to fan the hammer of her revolver, firing six shots in rapid succession as the glint of her self-proclaimed rival’s sunglasses came around the corner of a larger rock just across the hill a ways. 

There was silence for a time after, during which Nico had ducked back into that hole in the cliff side. She had heard no response to the salvo - not of pain nor of retreat - and it gave her pause. Had he managed to anticipate her? There was no time to ponder, and so, instead, she decided to investigate the silence. Drawing the same card from before and conjuring another illusory duplicate that went sprinting out of her cover, she stomped her feet for the first few seconds of its flight, hoping to draw fire, back to the dirt and an ear open to listen.

In the next instant, she had her answer. However, it came in the form of another flame wave that hit at the feet of the duplicate as it fled, kicking up dirt and charred vegetation. Tora’ji had seemed to anticipate even the illusion, attempting to create a temporary disruption so that his flight further uphill, which had been silent until that point, would remain unimpeded. She hardly needed him poking out from over top of her, and so she fled, as well, using the man’s own distraction tactic to her advantage.

“Got you!” came the miqo’te’s voice, and, in the next moment, even as Nico took that queue to lunge out of the way, the blinding pain of a bullet impacted her right side, thankfully dampened by her suit’s enchantments and the armoured carbonweave vest beneath the jacket. It still hurt, though, causing her to stumble and gasp for breath, her ribs pounding with pain just for another bullet to soar past her head. The second shot would have hit her if she hadn’t partially-doubled over, and so, she pushed herself and kept running, pulling back the hammer on her revolver and firing blindly in the direction of Tora’ji’s voice to try and buy herself some time.

Whether by luck or some divine providence, she heard a hiss of pain at her fourth shot. Though the Keeper of the Moon that was gunning for her had similar protections, she managed to keep the score even, as it were, as she managed to make her way to the top of the hill, ducking behind a tree.

“You’re not gonna kill me with shots like that, Sol!” he snarled, pain evident in his voice. Had she wounded him enough to break his stride that much? She smirked a bit despite the continued pounding in her ribs. The bullet with which he’d struck her was still lodged in her suit jacket, and, much as it vexed her to allow it to remain, she let it; despite her commitment to her appearance, her life - and victory over a long-time thorn in her side - was far more important.

She didn’t respond to him, instead just using his taunts to keep tabs on him. He’d always been mouthy, and, as much as she and her partner, Odellia, enjoyed playful banter during confrontation to keep up morale, it was always simply too much, too melodramatic.

Silence ensued again, and, she determined, he was looking for her. She’d lost him. If she hadn’t, he’d have immolated her cover long ago. The tree wouldn’t last to such a blast at he’d prepared for her. Checking her remaining bullets in the pouch hidden beneath her jacket at her belt, she frowned. She’d only three shots left, not counting the two in her revolver. She loaded the remaining three in and took a long breath.

It was just as Tora’ji had planned. It was a long game he’d been playing. First, he’d separate her from Odellia, using the Philosopher’s errand to deliver her report to his advantage. While she was back in the Sharlayan motherland, he’d arranged for a falsified report to demand Nico’s attention: an anomaly in Vylbrand was reported, remnants of the Calamity not moons ago causing an upheaval on the eastern coast to the far south of Costa del Sol. He’d slipped into her inn room just before she was to leave to investigate, depriving her of all she didn’t immediately have on her person: her spare ammunition, her aetheryte pass, her money, and her linkpearls. Though he didn’t get her revolver or the ammunition she’d had on her person while she was at the front desk, dealing with a complaint lodged against her for “suspicious activity” with the Yellowjackets, she’d been completely deprived of all but her firearm and a handful of bullets. With the Yellowjackets performing an investigation of her room and time running short, she had no choice but to appear where Tora’ji lay in wait to ambush her. It had all dripped of his underhanded sabotage, but she’d little choice. She knew he’d have gone through the investigation agency’s reports linkshell, and, when she’d been assigned, she’d play into his hands whether she went or not.

It had been like that for years. Ever since she had been promoted to Conservator, partnered with Odellia - at the time, a budding, but prodigal, Philosopher - and assigned to keep her safe both through assuring her silence on the motherland’s closely-guarded secrets and as an asset, herself. The pink-haired woman impressed her from the start, her apparent spaciness a very clever and convincing front that concealed one of the sharpest women she’d known in a long time. However, Tora’ji had his eye on her, too, and when Nico was promoted from their shared position as Observer to Conservator, then, just moons later, began dating the woman, he became enraged. He began to deny his fondness for Odellia and became hostile to both her and the red-headed Conservator, often sabotaging their jobs, even succeeding, at first. For the first year of Nico’s career as a Conservator, she was constantly in danger of being sent to remedial training or, worse, terminated. After a while, though, she got wise, avoiding the pitfalls her so-called rival had been setting for her, forcing him to engage in a longer, more drawn-out game. This was to be the final scene for it, she knew. Nearly two years had passed, and not even the Calamity in Eorzea stopped him.

It all came down to this moment. She knew she could still gain the upper hand, and, while she was yet unseen, she peeked out toward the last direction she’d heard his voice. However, just as she did, another shot rang out, and, though she managed to avoid taking a worse hit, the shot glanced off of her revolver, the next seeking shot arcing right into its side. The impact wrenched the firearm from Nico’s grasp, the weapon clattering to the ground as she flinched back behind the tree.

Tora’ji laughed triumphantly. “You know, that might’ve been my last shot,” he taunted, walking up the hill in plain view, “if you weren’t such a generous sort.” He opened the cylinder on his own revolver and begin reloading with Nico’s stolen ammunition.

“Now why don’t you come out before that poor little tree turns into a charcoal with you,” he snarled, holding the revolver level and leering over his sunglasses at her. That was that. She had no choice. If she dove for her weapon, the explosion from his firebrand would cook her alive, and if she stayed behind that tree, she was just as helpless as she’d be facing him.

With a resigned sigh, she held her hands up in a motion of surrender and paced out into the open, a stoic expression on her face. She took a long breath and tensed as the miqo’te pulled down the hammer and barked his command word once more. With a brilliant flash and a burst of flame, all Nico could see was fire as the man’s revolver exploded in his hand, sending him reeling backward, just barely escaping his own fireball.

Nico quirked a brow, hawkish brown eyes watching as the plume dispersed. Though he was mostly unharmed thanks to the enchantments he had on his own gear, rendering him untouchable to his own spells, her was clearly stunned, and his firearm was blown to pieces on the ground before him.

“How-?!” he sputtered, looking at his hands in disbelief, rubbing fingers to palms to rid himself of the explosion’s residue, “You-! You did that! You-”

“Knew,” Nico finished, adjusting her gloves and finally pulling that troublesome bullet from the magicked weave of her suit jacket, the hole mending itself as soon as the intrusive piece of metal was removed. “Yes. You give O too little credit. Before she left, she befouled the powder in those bullets you stole from me." “What? They’re... they’re duds?” he asked, straightening up, rigid in shock.

“Of course. Though, that you had to overdo it and attempt a spellshot with foreign ammunition is your own folly,” she replied, brushing off her shoulders, walking calmly toward the miqo’te, who responded by reaching to his belt and drawing a hunting knife, snarling defiantly.

“Fuck it. I don’t need a gun to kill you, Sol.”

“I beg to differ.”

With a howl of rage, the rancorous Observer charged Nico. Bringing the knife up to attempt a slash across her neck, he found himself blocked as the Conservator had seamlessly brought up a hand to strike his forearm, stopping the swing short and sending a shock up his arm. With her right, she brought a fist to his chest, the impact leaving him gasping for air. Trying to recover, the miqo’te flipped the knife and brought it down from overhead in an attempt to stab her, only to have the woman slip around to his side and bring an elbow to the back of his head.

“Ungh...! I won-” he started to say, but was cut off as he whirled around by the hell of a boot colliding with this side of his face, knocking him unceremoniously to the ground, where he barely caught himself on all fours. His sunglasses came free of his head, previously held within his hair, rather than on his ears, given his anatomy, making them far too easy to dislodge. The man hissed, bright sunlight causing his nocturnally-attuned jade eyes to squint despite his efforts to keep them open.

“You waste far too much time talking.”

Turning on her heel, Nico made for her gun, walking at a rather patient pace. With Tora’ji scrambling for his lost eyewear, she was under no pressure to recover her revolver quickly, even as he recovered and came charging her again.

“Don’t turn your back to me, damn you!” he yelled, but, as he got close, the red-headed Conservator dropped to the ground, scooping up her revolver, turning on the spot, and fanning the hammer, a knee to the ground.

The first shot went wide. The second just barely grazed the man’s leg. However, the third impacted his hip, throwing him for a loop. The fourth hit higher, slamming into his arm as it came down due to his wild stumbling. The fifth and last shot she had, however, also went completely wide when Tora’ji let himself drop to the ground, rather than keep stumbling, dropping into a roll that brought him within striking distance with that knife of his.

Nico huffed in annoyance, her calm disrupted slightly as she launched herself backward to avoid him and stand up straight. She clipped her revolver into its holster and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Taking a long breath, she held her ground, Tora’ji springing back to his own feet and charging her again with that knife.

He swung hard for her side, and she hopped to the side with the swing, carrying herself out of its range while giving herself more time to avoid it. In the gap left by the enraged strike, she charged forward and brought a palm up for the Observer’s face. The base of her palm impacted his nose, and, with a sickening crunch, he staggered back with a scream, a stream of blood pouring down his face and staining his shirt and jacket.

“Augh! By face! You bitch!” he roared, sounding as if he’d suddenly developed a nasty cold. However, before he could recover enough to make another move, the toe of Nico’s boot hit him beneath the chin, snapping his head backward and sending him onto his back as she hit again with the sole, shoving him hard.

With Tora’ji on the ground, she stomped down hard on the wrist of the hand holding that knife, causing him to release it before she kicked it away from him.

“Kill be,” he said, still holding his bleeding, broken nose with the other hand, staring hatefully at her from the ground, eyes watery behind those sunglasses of his, “add Sharlayad will doh. You’ll be a pariah. Burderig a fellow Idvestigator.”

Nico shook her head, a small, amused smile forming as he spoke. “You’re really a lot less threatening when you sound like you should be abed with a hot water bottle and some medicine.”

“You broke by doze!” he howled in indignation, met only by a nod. “Fide. Do it.”

“Oh, doh- ah, pardon. Oh no. I’m... quite alright,” she said, readjusting her gloves, shaking off the bit of blood from her right hand, the glove magically pristine once more afterward, “After all, you’ve talent. It’s just wasted on pettiness. Killing you would still be a waste of life. I’m, frankly, against it.”

“You sdide little...” he muttered, pausing, as if in thought before he backed off a ways, rifling through his pockets before pulling out Nico’s stolen linkpearl and speaking into it, “This is Tora’j-”

He was cut off as the pearl glinted brightly, bursting next to his ear with such force that bits of his skull went flying from his head, his sunglasses dislodged once more. With blood pouring down his head from the missing chunk the rigged linkpearl took from him, his fingers blown to ribbons, the miqo’te fell to the ground with a heavy thud, dead.

Nico took a long breath and sighed, stepping forward to pick up the fallen shades. She looked at them for a long time, closed the arms, and slipped them onto her jacket pocket. Reaching up to an ornate earring, she activated the hidden linkpearl within it.

“Observer Tora’ji Polaali has been confirmed killed in action,” she said calmly as she drew a small prismatic crystal from a black silken pouch in her jacket, “Target eliminated. I’ll begin cleanup immediately and prepare my own report.”

With a flick of her wrist, she cast the fire crystal toward him, and, as it impacted him, the body combusted in a flash of brilliant, white arcane flame, burning away enchantment, armour and all. Within time, naught remained of Tora’ji Polaali, save for his sunglasses.

This would call for an aesthetic change, for sure. She’d earned it.