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#IT'S A SNIPPET SO IT'S NOT FINAL!
safyresky · 1 year
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Shadowy Snippets: In Which Charlie Helps Jacqueline Realize she is the DUMBEST BITCH ALIVE
aka, the moment Jacqueline FINALLY realizes she has a big old crush on Dite 🙃. This one scene has gone through 4 different iterations, and I'm unsure how similar it will be to this most current version in the final draft of Into the Shadows, but figured y'all may enjoy it ;)
It's also a wee bit of an apology for uh. Not having Chapter 5 of Crystal Springs up last week like I had PLANNED! Idk what happened last week? It was BUSY and then EASTER?! HELLO?! I'm getting married in a MONTH. I may explode. Holy hell.
anyway, tldr: got busy last week, felt bad about not posting CS for y'all, decided to share this shadowy snippet as an apology. Will have CS 5 up this week, and maybe even CS 23! We shall see! Enjoy! :3
OH PS: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR INTO THE SHADOWS! If this scene stays, it'd be in like. Chapters 20-30 🙃
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Charlie had never fallen down a giant hole before, nor had he ever planned to. And he certainly hadn't planned on being chased down the hole by a giant boulder. It looked way cooler in Indiana Jones, and also way safer since he. Y'know. Was running on land and not free falling down a GIANT HOLE in an ABANDONED CASTLE.
Thankfully, Charlie had something Indy didn't: an actual Legend.
Jacqueline had managed to turn around in her descent, so she was staring up at the boulder that was fast approaching them. She glanced back down, and stuck her left hand below her and her right hand above them. Both hands turned blue, and suddenly there was a whiteout. Charlie couldn’t see anything, but he could hear a crazy amount of ice cracking all around them. He could feel the cold wind and the pellets of snow hitting his face.
Well, at least when they splattered he'd be too numb to feel pain for long, he thought. That had been nice of her.
But there was no splat.
There was a soft poof, and a Charlie shaped fluffy white cloud of snow shot up around him, drifting in the air before settling on him. Jacqueline superhero landed beside him, a look of concentration so intense on her face that Charlie didn't dare imagine what would happen if he distracted her, but then again, maybe he wouldn't be able to distract her at all. She was in the zone!
The moment she hit the snow pile, her left hand shot forwards, and all of her effort and energy was focused on the icy tornado above them. There was a grating sound, louder than the crackling, and finally a definite, large THUNK.
Jacqueline still focused above them, until Charlie could see a very thick, blue, dome-like ceiling had taken form. Jacqueline brought both her hands down, and hit the floor. Multiple thick columns popped up around them, and a huge one directly in the centre of the surprisingly large space they had landed in.
"Thank the GODDESS the ground was SOLID," Jacqueline said, as the ice chips settled.
"Were you expecting pointy spiky rocks?"
"One hundred percent. How could you not, with the hole and the boulder—"
"And there was a severe lack of snakes," Charlie said.
Jacqueline laughed. "What is this, Indiana Jones?"
"Dude," Charlie said, getting up and shaking the snow off of him. "This was way cooler! Did you see what you just did? That was amazing! Oh my god! The snow!" he said, gesturing to the pile behind him as he shook a clump off of his boot. "And the dome!" he added, gesturing upwards now. "And that two-tone magic there? That's cool as heck," he said, pointing at Jacqueline's still frosty hands. "Do I get some cool two-tone magic too? Is it going to be red and green? I mean, that would check out because Christmas colours but like they're not my favourites—"
"Two-tone what now?" Jacqueline looked down at her hands, and did the last thing Charlie expected her to do.
She shot up, squealed, and started shaking her right hand, as if to fling the dark blue magic off.
"Woah, woah Jacquie! Hey, calm down! You can just poof us out of here, yeah?"
"Yeah, easily, just, give me a second here. Shoo! Be gone! ARGH!" she yelled, shaking her hand until the dark blue finally subsided.
"No two-tone magic for me then?"
Jacqueline sighed, plunked down in the snow, panting. "You better hope not," She said between breaths. "The only reason it's two tone is because half of it isn't my magic. It's Jack's." she ran her hands through her hair and frowned. "And it's getting bad."
Charlie frowned, brushing errant snowflakes off of him. He stepped forwards until he was in front of the sprite, who was still catching her breath. "Must be scary to have that much magic, huh?"
"A little bit, yeah. My roots haven't thawed in weeks, and I have a really nice hair colour."
Charlie laughed.
"No, seriously! Stop laughing! It's dark brown, right? But it also looks black. BUT. Sometimes, when the sun hits the ends juuuust right, it looks reddish. I don't wanna kill my roots, you know?"
Charlie sighed. "I don’t think this is just about your hair, Jacquie."
"It's not. Us Frosts cope with humour as best as we can," Jacqueline said with a soft smile, bringing her knees up to her chest.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Sure, snow's all nice and cold."
Charlie sat beside her, catching his breath. "Coping, huh?"
"Mhmm." Jacqueline replied, running her hands through her hair. "Having two essences is like. It's a LOT. It's hard. Especially when one is double your age. And Legendary. Not that I'm not, but like. It's different."
"No, I get it. Status versus like, title, right?"
"Yeah, exactly," Jacqueline said, sighing and leaning back in the snow. "Anyway. Magical essences are a huge part of a magibean's whole being and identity. And even though Legends and their Legates can literally share their essences with one another, and ours were able to give us theirs to keep safe," she said, summoning the blue magic again, "they aren't ours. And they're kind of squishing us."
"Squishing?"
"Yeah. The longer we hold onto our Legendary counterpart's essences, the more dominant their essence becomes, the less dominant ours is. We're powerful little fucks, but our Legends? Even more so than us. So our essences are slowly getting squashed. It's why Dite's been grumpy lately, for instance."
"You've all been taking on traits from your Legends," Charlie realized.
"Yeah. And for some of us there's a few nasty side effects," Jacqueline said with a sigh, closing her fist and dismissing the dark blue magic. "See: my roots. I freeze dry, right? It keeps the hair out of my face and cuts static down which is great because I get really zappy sometimes! But it never stays for me."
"Why not?"
"I can't permafrost. Mom thinks it's a side effect of global warming. Dad thinks it's heat sprite lineage. But you see these roots? See how they're crispy white? And icy?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not doing that. I'm waking up like this every day! It's not going away," she said pushing herself forward and huffing. "I think that having Jack's essence is freezing me a bit."
"You mean like, freezing you freezing? Like, like your brother was?"
Jacqueline nodded. "I've been feeling a lot angrier lately, and sure, I'm angry sometimes, but levels like this? I haven't seen it since I—" she looked startled; she glanced at Charlie, mouth still open to speak though she was silent. She snapped her jaw shut and hugged her knees, burying her face in them.
"Oh, shit. Hey, Jacqueline, it's okay," Charlie said, throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a side hug. Though she kept an iron grip around her legs, she didn't stop Charlie from pulling her in. "You won't freeze. You never have," Charlie said.
"That's the thing, Charlie!" Jacqueline exclaimed, head shooting up. "I keep saying that, and everyone thinks that but it's not—it's not true!"
She inhaled, looking up at the sparkling icy ceiling above them. "Do you know why I managed to fend off the shadows, when they took your Dad, for as long as I did?"
"I assumed it was because you were a badass."
"Awwh, thank you! That's-that's sweet! I am, aren't I?" She said with a smile, holding her head in her hands and staring at her friend.
"I'll say. I saw you kick through that cloud of fear like it was nothing."
"Because it was nothing," she said. Sighing, she let go of her head, hugging her knees once again. "When they descended on me, they showed me my worst fear. It was me. Frozen."
"That's your worst fear?"
"It was. But the thing is, as I stood there and saw myself, you know, cold, no warm flush, angry beyond belief, I realized that I wasn't afraid of myself anymore."
"How come?"
"Because the image it showed me? Was straight out of Frostmas. I had already lived it. And I survived it. I wasn't afraid of frozie Jacqueline anymore. I had been her."
"And then you punched fear right in the face!" Charlie said with a very excitable mimed punch.
Jacqueline laughed, though it sounded watery. "I sure fucking did. And lasted for a bit longer. But then he came."
"The Boogie Man."
"King of Darkness. Erebus," Jacqueline corrected. "And he found my new fear, and. Well. It worked. I couldn't break out of it that time. I don't know what your Dad did, but whatever it was? I think it saved B-Man and I."
Charlie frowned, doing some fast thinking. "Wait. If you lived that fear already, does that mean that you have been frozen?"
"When Jack used the Escape Clause on your Dad, he created an alternate timeline where he was Santa."
"Which would make you Jack Frost."
Jacqueline nodded. "But because of the Legend-Legate connection, I still remembered the proper timeline. And I grew so obsessed with fixing it and proving that Jack wasn't actually supposed to be Santa, that I accidentally froze myself in the process. And when the timeline was fixed, I came back frozen. But not for long. Your sister thawed my brother. And the shock of that, the power of that was so strong that I felt it to, and it thawed me as well."
"Lucy's a powerhouse!"
Jacqueline laughed. "Yes, and I can never thank her enough. I've never told anyone this, Charlie," she said, looking back at him now.
"But you still have your flawless record. The timeline never happened, right? So technically, you never actually froze."
"That's the thing. It never happened. But my brother and I still remember it like it did. And when I came back from that timeline, I came back…frozen," she said, hiding her face once again.
"It's okay. It happens to sprites from time to time, doesn't it?"
"It can," said Jacqueline, lifting her head a bit. "But that's not the point. The point is, here I am, priding myself on being the one existing winter sprite that didn't have a nasty case of hardened heart, ever, at ALL, but that's a LIE, Charlie. I…lied. And I was terrified of what would happen if my friends found out."
"I don't think a single one of your friends wouldn't be supportive," Charlie said.
"I'd like to think that, too! But that what if is really strong, Charles."
He laughed. "I hate that you call me that."
"And I love that you hate it. I live to bother," she said, seriously.
"You know, I got that vibe. I think that's the middle child talking," Charlie said with a grin.
Jacqueline laughed, exhaling. "When Erebus rammed into me, that's what I saw. I saw B-Man and Elle being absolutely disgusted that I had frozen. Elle stopped being friends with me. My family kept me at arms length; the Twins were scared as could be. And DITE! Ugh that one hurt the most, Charlie. She was crying," Jacqueline said, with the saddest face Charlie had ever seen on the sprite. "Because of me. Because I lied to her. That hurt so much."
"Wow, you've really got it bad for her," Charlie said before he could stop himself.
"What? No I don't. What do you mean?"
"What do you mean what do I mean?"
"I've got it bad for her? Are you saying that I have a crush on her?"
"Well, yeah! NO. Wait. Hold on. Don't tell me you didn't know you had a crush on her."
"I don't?" Jacqueline said, doubty.
"Are you sure about that? I mean, you just told me your worst fear, Jacqueline. And in it, the thing that upset you the most was Dite being upset at you. Not your family, not Bernard or Elle, but Dite."
"We're really good friends?"
"Oh my god, this is the best! You really don't think you have a crush on her?"
Jacqueline looked panicked. "No! I just. You know. She's really nice and sweet and funny, and oh my gods she kicks ass, have you seen her in action?"
Charlie shook his head, staring at Jacqueline's roots. The more she talked about Dite, the less…icy they looked. "I can't say that I have," he said, poking Jacqueline's head.
"Hey! What's that all about?" she asked, rubbing her head.
"Check out your hand," Charlie said, as ice chipped off of the sprite's hair.
She gasped, scratching her scalp a bit more. When she opened her palm, ice was sitting in it, melting.
"And that happened when you started talking about Dite."
"No," she said, looking aghast at the ice in her hands.
"Yes," Charlie said, just as aghast.
"This happened? When I talked about Dite?!"
"Yeah!" Charlie said, laughingly. "Just the thought of her alone gets you all slushy," he said, nudging her shoulder.
"AhhhhHHHHH," Jacqueline squealed, her face very, very flushed. "Holy snowballs. I totally have a crush on Dite. Oh my god. Oh no."
"Well THAT'S not what I expected to hear. It's okay, Jacqueline! There are worse people to crush on!"
"No, Charlie, it's not that! She's amazing. It's just. It's embarrassing, now that I'm thinking about it. I think I've had a crush on her for like, three hundred years."
"Three hundred years?!"
"Yes!"
"Three whole CENTURIES!
"YES."
"And you didn't know??"
"No! I didn't! You think we'd be having this conversation now if I had known?!"
"Your Jack is showing."
"Shush," she replied, rubbing her head. "I am the dumbest bitch ALIVE," she finally said, hands up in the air as she groaned and once again fell back into the snowbank. "She's literally Cupid, Charlie! She's probably known the whole time! That's so embarrassing, of all the people to get a crush on—"
"Again, she's not the worst," Charlie said with a smile.
"Absolutely not," Jacqueline shot back fast, with a happy sigh. "I should ask her out. On like, a date."
"I think so too. I mean, thoughts of her are already melting you a little bit. And I think we both know that she would be your number one supporter if you were to freeze."
Jacqueline laughed. "She's everyone's number one supporter. She's nice like that. She's nice to everyone."
"I think she'd understand if you told her you were frozen once. I think everyone would understand, Jacqueline. I mean, you told me, and I'm still here," he said with a shrug.
"Well, yeah, but it's not like you can go anywhere. We're trapped in a hole in the ground."
"Lighten up, would you? I didn't run away immediately, did I? I'm still here for you, Jacqueline. And so is Dite, and Elle and Bernard and your family, I mean, your brother has known the entire time and he certainly hasn't judged you either. He's been there before. I know telling the truth can be scary," Charlie said, getting up and offering her a hand. "But it's not so scary when you're with the people you love. Including the goddess of pleasure," Charlie added, with an eyebrow waggle for good measure.
Jacqueline snorted, grabbing Charlie's hand. "I can't beLIEVE how dense I am," she said, pushing herself up as Charlie pulled.
"Nor can I. I thought you were the Legate with the brain cell!"
"GOD no. What gave you that idea? That's Xander," Jacqueline said, her grip on Charlie's hand tightening. "Thanks for that, Charlie. I really appreciate it."
"Of course! What're friends for? Ready to go?"
"Are you?"
"Whenever you are," he said with a squeeze.
"In that case," Jacqueline replied with an almost feral grin, "Bundle up, bitch! It's about to get chillay."
And with that, the pair disappeared in a flurry of two tone blue sparks and snowflakes.
And not a moment too soon.
Moments after the last spark floated off, there was a large crack, the boulder falling through the hole, getting caught on the icy pillar below it as it capsized.
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vinelark · 4 months
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happy friday! here is a little bbts chapter 5 proof of life
When Tim comes down again his mouth is full of blood—bitten cheek—and his whole head throbs, an almost fizzy numbness flooding through his jaw in the sudden absence of pain. He struggles through another wheezing breath, wincing at the familiar sensation of torn muscles around his rib cage. “Ah,” Checkered Shirt is saying. “There does seem to be a localized paralytic effect. That last placement may have been counterintuitive; my mistake. But as we discussed, that’s the beauty of mistakes in a setting like this. The opportunity to learn from them.” Tim tips his head. Clumsily spits a mouthful of blood on the metal floor—evidence, he thinks hazily, if he moves me—and finds his tongue. “Funny how you still haven’t gotten what you want,” he half-slurs, “considering how many opportunities you keep having.”
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schnaf · 2 months
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MONEY ON MY MIND
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wikitpowers · 15 days
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ik everybody thinks that "his face crumpled. "he hates me," he said. "all i do is love him, but he hates me, he just hates me, i don’t know why." is gonna be ty talking to dru but what if it’s julian????!?
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white-weasel · 4 months
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Missed opportunity for the people at Twisted Pictures to release Bobby Dagen’s promotional DVD as bonus content similar to Full Disclosure Report or the Scott Tibbs Documentary
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yendts · 8 months
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thinking about the library scene
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thepiecesofcait · 5 months
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youtube
Here's a look at the opening of the Cafe scene from our production of Les Mis last year! (a behind-the-scenes of the set up before the curtains open can be found here!)
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wikiangela · 2 months
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wip wednesday
tagged by @diazsdimples @tizniz @daffi-990 @bidisasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck 💖💖
i wasn't gonna post today but I'm currently writing another one of Buck and Taylor's arguments and I'm having so much fun lol (there's gonna be only one more conversation between them after this haha) I keep having new ideas for the in-between of what I had planned, and I hope all of this turns out coherent, I'm probably gonna have to do so much editing lol I'm so determined to post it this month and I'm actually inspired!
prev snippet
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“I don’t know what to tell you.” he sighs, averting his gaze, as he’s trying to think about anything to say, but his mind is blank. 
“How about the truth? I really just want to know what the hell is going on with you. Because this-” she throws her hands out, vaguely gesturing around. “This isn’t a life together, and I don’t know how many more times we can have this exact same conversation.”
“Taylor…” he starts, hoping more words would come. “I’m sor-”
“Is there someone else?” she blurts out, angry tears welling in her eyes. He feels his own eyes widen in surprise, and his cheeks burn.
“What?”
“I mean, are you seeing someone else?” she doubles down, her tone a little shaky, but still determined. Suddenly, he feels his heart in his throat, and he has to make a conscious effort to breathe. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie
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Villaintine's Day 2024 - Crash Meeting
Prompt: Evil Scheme 03 @black-rose-events
Detective who has to investigate a string of crimes and ends up discovering more about Villain than they ever thought they would (could be an identity reveal or a bigger plot or a “the Villain is actually the good guy and X is actually the antagonist)
(tw car crash mention)
It did not go according to plan.
Detective twitched a little, their fingers fidgeting. There was an unconscious part of their mind that was annoyed at not being able to clasp their hands in front of them, as they were zip-tied behind their back. It helped them think, and in that moment they needed that. To be honest, they were in a slight state of shock. Being caught hadn’t much to do with it.
A couple of weeks ago, there had been a robbery in their neighborhood. It’d happened in a garage. During the night, the cars in repair had been all gone. Detective liked the people that worked there. They were a regular, and the staff never sighed or rolled their eyes every time they presented a very bumpy car that had its windows broken too many times to count, flat tires at least every month, and once had a very long knife stuck in the hood. This kind of petty thievery really made their gears grind, especially from those of one overpowered over-the-top Villains. Of course it was a villain, you didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to know that. Could you actually believe that someone chose to do that with their abilities? Couldn’t they get a job or something? Detective had no special power, expect perhaps an innate gift to find themself in trouble, but it didn’t matter one bit. Villain had hurt someone they knew, they had to be stopped. Simple as that. Of course the hero agency had been contacted, but the Heroes were much too busy with crimes that “actually mattered” (yes, it was what they’d said on the phone.) Being unchecked, Villain hadn’t stopped there. Their people had broken into private properties just to steal cars, and only cars. It was like the beginning of a bad joke. This was getting really worrying, but the Hero agency didn’t care. As long as it didn’t hurt their sponsors, Detective supposed everything was fine and dandy. Well, not in their book.
It could have gone well. It could have gone very well. Success had been on the tip of their fingers, honestly. They’d gone undercover and had succeeded to find Villain’s headquarters, as well as all the codes to the doors. They’d sent all these findings to the Hero’s agency, just in case, and then they’d met Villain themself. Detective had scoffed at first at – well, everything. The costume, the theatrics, the melodrama. And then, they’d laid down their eyes...and they had frozen. They’d been quiet and still while the henchmen had dragged them away. Even now it was hard to snap out of it. They had no idea how long they’d been stuck in here.
Villain opened the door. The prisoner jumped on their feet. The day before, they would have tried a good old-fashioned headbutt, but not now. Not after what they’d seen. They stared as Villain put their fingertips together in reflection.
“Do you know who am I?” Detective asked abruptly.
Villain smirked:
“Are you going to try that on me? You’re in no position to bluff. You’re a nobody living in a bad neighborhood. That you have ties with the hero agency changes nothing. I doubt that they’ll come to your rescue.”
“No, I mean- Do you not remember me at all? Or are you just pretending?”
That made Villain pause. They examined their prisoner, but something about Detective’s attitude made gloating strangely difficult. Intrigued, even slightly amused, they tilted their head:
“Why should I?”
Detective closed their eyes:
“Okay. Hmm- okay. Do you remember a car crash from fifteen years ago?”
“There are a lot of car crashes in the world, Detective.”
“Not like that one. A blue old-fashioned car pushed another car off the road, and it crashed. It wasn’t an accident. There were four victims: the father, the mother, and two kids. One of them was a dumb twelve year-old. It was me. I got away with a few broken bones.”
“All of this is fascinating, but-”
“I don’t have a lot of memories of this day. I just have pictures, flashes. I saw the other car - how fast it was, how deliberately it bumped into us – the scream of my parents - the hand of my sibling emerging out of the rubble-”
“Are you accusing me?”
“-But I remember the next day very clearly. The grown-ups told me everyone else had died.”
“See, you’ve got this the wrong way. I am the one who is supposed to tell you my tragic origin story.”
“I think I am telling yours. You have a birth mark on your left hand that looks like a pentagram. My sibling had the same.”
There was a silence.
“Don’t you remember?" asked Detective with something akin to desperation. "Don’t you remember at all?”
Villain staggered on their feet. Unable to catch them up, Detective knelt next to them when they grabbed the wall, their knees buckling under them.
“The car,” Villain finally whispered. “Did it look – Was it a sedan?”
“I think so.”
“I see it. I see it all the time in my dreams.”
They wiped their forehead with a shaking hand:
“I-I thought you were an imaginary friend. No one told me I had a real sibling.”
“What happened to you?”
Villain avoided their gaze:
“Bad things.”
They lapsed into silence again, until Detective cleared their throat:
“Can you, uh-”
Villain pulled out a knife and cut the zip-ties that bound Detective’s hands. They stayed like this for a few tense seconds, barely glancing at each other, until Villain held out a tentative hand. Detective took a step closer and reeled them into their arms. Villain’s spine went rigid at first, but Detective awkwardly patted their back until they slowly relaxed.
“Am I the older sibling?” asked Villain.
“You wish. You’re two years younger. Why are you stealing cars?”
“Oh, it was going to be a very sophisticated scheme. Everyone thinks so anyway. But I think- I’m really looking for that blue car. I can’t think of something else. I keep getting back to it.”
“Do you want to look together?”
“I-Maybe?”
“Good.” Detective pressed them tighter. “Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you again. And I really, really want to know why everyone lied to us.”
*
Back to Hero x Villain Masterlist
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varpusvaras · 20 days
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There was no actual dating involved when it came to being a royal.
At least not officially. Officially speaking, things started with establishing an interest, then doing some light mingling and talking that was strictly supervised, and then getting to have talks that were private, which, most of the time, were done by letters and other forms of messages. Then started the proper courting, which would gradually escalate to public courting, and finally to engagement. The engagements could last for a while, too, especially if both parties were young.
Unofficially, of course, especially during this age, all royals and nobles dated. It was just a bit of an quieter affair than other people tended to have, but it was still dating. Breha and Bail had definitely dated for a long while between their official talks and courting. Breha's parents had wanted to give her a bit more of a relaxed experience, as they had become a lot more careful with her after the fall. Bail's parents had been much the same, but Bail suspected that they were also secretly relieved over the fact that Bail had truly decided to adhere to his status, so they were willing to give him a bit leeway with some things, so he wouldn't feel pressured and get cold feet.
Not that he would've. Bail had been smitten with her from the moment she had said her first word to him. He would've given away all his other hopes and dreams, if that meant he could be with her.
Still, despite all of this, because of Breha's status as the Crown Princess, in public, they had to follow the rules. Which meant, amongst other things, that many of their activities before being engaged were severely limited by what was considered proper.
Not that Bail cared, again. He loved every second he got to spend with Breha, not matter what they were doing.
Walks were the one thing that was permitted to do in public from the very start. They did that a lot. Morning walks, if Bail was staying in Aldera and could come visit her before any other daily obligations. Afternoon walks, when the courts and lessons were on pause, and Breha wished to get some fresh air after hours of studying. Evening walks, when Bail could stretch his visit just a little further, when the city had quieted down and the stars were bright, and he could reach over without anyone batting an eye and hold her in his arms and kiss her sweetly, with his nervous heartbeat sputtering inside his ribcage.
They still did a lot of walks. Maybe it was because of nostalgia, or maybe it was so Bail could spend time with her after being away for weeks on end, and still enjoy Alderaan to the fullest. These days, their walks were longer and could take them far away from the Palace, as there was nothing that could limit them anymore.
It was precisely because all of those reasons why they were currently making their way up the trail outside Aldera. To get away from the city life and enjoy the clear skies and clean air, to clear their heads after long days of working, and to spend time together, as just Breha and Bail, and not as the Queen and the Senator.
It was a bit windy, but in all honesty, it also felt refreshing after spending so much time in the stale air of Coruscant. Bail glanced up. The lookout point was still some ways away, with newly constructed path of hardwood stairs leading up to it for the rest of the way. The view from up there would be spectacular.
Not that Bail was in too much hurry to get to the destination. Not when the whole way there was the point.
He turned back to Breha.
"I hope the path is not too steep", he joked.
Breha laughed.
"I have climbed higher mountains with much less paths", she said. She squeezed his hand. "I'm much more worried about you. The only thing you have climbed in a while are the carpeted stairs of the Senate."
Bail laughed as well.
"I climb those stairs enough times that I would already be on the top and back down again", he said.
Breha grinned.
"It's good to have you back home", she said.
Bail smiled back at her.
"It's good to be back home", he said. "I missed you."
"I missed you too", Breha said. She turned her head, and looked down, towards the city and the Palace visible in the distance. "The view is stunning."
"It is", Bail nodded. "And it will be even better from the top."
Breha didn't answer. She just looked out to the city. The wind was whipping her hair around and pulling it out from the neat braid they had been arranged into earlier that day.
She wasn't smiling anymore.
Bail frowned.
"Breha?" He called out to her. "Is everything alright?"
The wind was seriously picking up now, and was suddenly cold, like it was in the middle of the winter, instead of a bright summer's day.
"I missed you", Breha said. Bail tried to squeeze her hand comfortingly, but there was nothing in his grasp anymore. When had he stopped holding her hand?
"Breha", Bail called, and tried to reach for her hand again, but she was standing too far away for him to do so. He was already uphill, on the stairs, while she was still standing at the trail, looking down over the side of the mountain. She wasn't looking at the city anymore, just staring straight down towards the foot of the mountain.
"I missed you", she said, again. "Aren't we missing someone?"
She stepped forward. Bail hadn't noticed that she had gotten off the trail before she was already falling over the edge.
He had no time to move. He could only stand there as she fell, quickly disappearing from his view. He still heard it when she hit the ground, the hard cracking of bones breaking and the body spilling over.
Bail tried to scream. If he did scream, the sound disappeared into the roiling wind.
"Why did you do that?"
He turned around to look up the stairs. Fox was standing at the top of them, looking down at him. The red of his armor was casting a stark, red refliction on the stone surface of the stairs, that was spilling over each step, until it pooled beneath Bail's feet.
He had his helmet on, but Bail could still see his eyes. The sun was shining straight at them, but it was like he didn't even notice. He just stared at Bail with his dull, dark eyes.
They should've been golden. Fox's eyes had always been a mixture of warmth of a autumn bonfire, the same depth that reminded Bail of Alderaan's night sky, and a burst of gold every time light hit them, like the most beautiful sunsets casted over Aldera from behind the mountains.
His eyes should've been golden, with the harsh, white light shining straight at them.
They were black.
"Why did you do that?" Fox asked again. "Why didn't you help her?"
Bail tried to open his mouth to say something, to say how sorry he was, to scream and cry, but he could make no sound to defend himself.
It was because there was nothing for him to say that would ever erase his mistakes.
Fox stared at him from behind the black visor of his helmet.
"Why didn't you help me?" He asked.
His mouth didn't move as he spoke.
"I am right here", he said.
He was. He was right there, just up the steps. If Bail could make his way up in time, he could help him.
He took a step forward. His foot made a hard thud when it hit the stone surface of the step, and the red shadow underneath him rippled, and the ripple turned into a wave, traveling at an impossible speed up the stairs, all the way to Fox, who toppled over when the wave reached him. His neck twisted to the side and cracked open before he even hit the hard stone, and he fell down on to the step, his limbs splayed out and his head turned towards Bail.
He was still staring at Bail.
"I am right here", he said, even though he was already dead.
Bail tried to scream, but there was no air inside his lungs. It had all disappeared into the wind around him, to the wind that was now a storm and was tearing off the moutain from the ground, and Bail woke up with his breath strangled inside his throat.
He laid there for a moment, staring at the darkness above him, before his body reminded him that he could still breathe by making his chest burn, and Bail gasped and desperately drew in a lungful of air.
He turned to his side and heaved the air back out, before he realised that it was in the middle of the night and that he was not alone in the room. He snapped his mouth shut and tried to breathed back in quietly through his teeth and calm down his painfully thundering heartbeat while doing so.
Then he remembered who were in the same room with him.
Bail turned around. Breha was sleeping in the middle tonight, after Fox and Bail had deemed her sufficiently pleased and had wanted to keep her in their holds afterwards. She wasn't wearing much more than a thin nightshirt, and through it, Bail could see the soft, golden glow under her skin, showing that she was breathing and her heart was beating.
Fox was sleeping with his face pressed onto Breha's arm, his blanket for once not draped up all the way to his shoulders, for which Bail was very thankful for, since now, when he sat up and and leaned over, he could see the same soft, golden glow under Fox's skin as well, running as a line from his neck down to small of his back.
Bail could finally breathe properly.
He looked at them for a little longer, and then laid back down. He breathed. His heart was gradually slowing down.
There were tears in his eyes. Bail wasn't sure if they had appeared there just now, or if he had been silently crying in his sleep, while he had not been able to do so in the dream.
Dream. That was all that it was. A dream. A nightmare.
Breha was alive, Fox was alive. It had just been a nightmare.
Bail let the tears fall down before wiping them away.
It was a good thing they had had some fun before going to sleep that night, because it looked like both Breha and Fox were still knocked out because of it, and had not woken up because of Bail's distress. Good. Bail wouldn't have wanted them to wake up.
He knew both of them would be disappointed in him if he ever admitted that to them.
Bail let some more tears fall down, and wiped them away again. He listened to Fox and Breha breathe, and breathed with them. Softly and slowly. He should go back to sleep.
He couldn't make himself close his eyes.
There was a knock on the door. Bail blinked, and lifted his head.
The knock came again before he could do anything else, this time much louder, very much as hard as a tiny fist could knock onto the door. The slow rhythm of Fox's breath stopped, and he lifted his head up as well. He saw Bail awake as well, and looked at him for the short moment it took for his brain to wake up.
"Is it Leia?" He mumbled.
"From the sound of it, yes." Bail was surprised how level and calm he managed to make himself sound.
Fox hummed.
"Are you dressed?" He asked.
"Sufficiently", Bail answered. Fox hummed again, and pushed himself up. Breha was waking up now as well, and she rubbed her eyes and slowly propped herself up on her elbow as Fox slid out of the bed.
"Bad dreams?" She asked, her voice quiet because of the sleep clinging to it.
Bail knew that she meant Leia.
"Maybe", he said, thankful that it was dark in the room.
Fox got the door open. He didn't even get to say anything, when Leia darted past him, her tiny feet sprinting as fast as they could, her breath coming in high-pitched hitches. She ran around the bed and clambered up on it, pulling at the sheets, and threw herself on Bail's chest.
Bail wrapped his arms around her on instinct, his body moving before his mind could.
"Leia?" He called. "What's wrong?"
She only crawled up on him when he spoke, putting her little arms around his neck and squeezing.
"Leia?" Bail tried again.
"Don't be scared", Leia said against his shoulder. "Don't be scared, Papa. Mama and Buir are here."
Oh. Bail felt a sting of guilt. He had not wanted to wake Leia up with the nightmare, either, but it seemed that his feelings had bled over to the real world much more strongly than he had even realised.
"I'm not", he said, squeezing her back. "I'm not, don't worry about me."
Fox had gotten back to bed now, and flicked the nightlight on.
"Oh", Breha said. She sat up properly now as well, her brow furrowed in a concerned frown. "Is everything alright?"
She reached her hand and brushed her fingers over Bail's cheek under his eye. Bail looked at her, and then at Fox, who had a very similar expression on him. Bail knew that he had not managed to dry all the tears properly enough.
Bail patted Leia gently on her back.
"Yes", he said, and gave Breha and Fox a look, hoping that they would understand that it meant that they would talk about it later.
It seemed like it worked, because they both nodded.
Breha then took her blanket.
"Move over", she said to Bail, and moved closer to the edge of the bed. Fox took his own blanket as well, and walked around the bed, sitting down in the edge and gently nudging Bail with his shoulder.
With Leia still in his arms, Bail moved to the middle of the bed, and laid back down when Breha put her hand on his shoulder and just as gently pushed him there. Fox draped Bail's blanket over both him and Leia, and then scooted so close that he could press his body against the side of Bail's.
Breha turned the light off and moved closer as well, resting her head against Bail's shoulder.
"Go back to sleep", she whispered. "We're right here."
She pressed her lips lightly on the skin there. Fox reached his hand and put it over Bail's, where it was resting on Leia's back.
Bail closed his eyes.
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ayyy im back with another Unedited human au snippet <3 it's almost entirely dialogue oopsies <3
~
Eddie slows in putting his coat on - Barnaby isn’t sticking around to chat with fellow staff like usual. He’s in a rush, scrambling to grab his jacket and hurrying from behind the bar. He dashes through the door, looking like a man on a mission.
The door Mr. Frankly had just vanished through. 
Could he be…? No, Barnaby seems like a good man. But he had seemed a little pushy with Mr. Frankly, from what Eddie could tell. 
It couldn’t hurt to make sure.
Eddie frowns deeply as he goes outside, wincing slightly at the first burst of cold air after hours spent in a warm building. He’s just in time to see Barnaby jog up behind Frankly and close his car door before he can get in. Barnaby immediately leans against the door with his arms crossed, pinning it shut and blocking Frankly from the driver’s seat.
Eddie’s stomach plummets. Before he knows it, he’s speed-walking across the parking lot towards them, a fire burning in his chest and his hands curled into fists.
Frankly says something loud enough that Eddie can almost hear, his voice echoing in the empty lot. As Eddie watches, Barnaby pokes Frankly’s chest, making him stagger back a step.
“Hey!” Eddie barks. 
Both of them jump and whip around - Barnaby’s eyebrows shoot into his hair, while Frankly’s lowers into a flat line. 
“Eddie?” Barnaby says.
At the same time, Frankly says, “Mr. Dear?”
The two of them look at each other in surprise. Eddie pays the exchange no mind. He stops by Frankly, trying to slightly angle himself in front of him without making it too obvious.
“Is everything all right here?” he asks, looking Barnaby up and down. He really hopes this won’t come to blows - Eddie can throw a punch well enough, but Barnaby is an imposing figure. Eddie already knows he’d likely lose, but as long as he can buy Frankly a couple extra seconds…
“No, actually, everything is not fine,” Frankly says in a ticked-off - and strangely scolding - tone. 
Barnaby, not breaking eye-contact with Frankly, counters with, “Everything’s peachy, Ed.”
“You sure about that?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his tone amicable. 
“Scout’s honor.”
“Please,” Frankly scoffs, “you were never a boy scout. And that’s not the point - I am trying to get home!”
“You are trying to die in the most avoidable way possible.”
Eddie shoots Frankly a concerned look. “You’re what?”
“I am perfectly sober,” Frankly says.
Barnaby raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Your face is flushed.”
“It is not!”
Eddie winces. “It, uh, it is. A little.”
“It’s none of your business,” Frankly seethes. 
“Listen,” Barnaby sighs. He leans heavier against the car and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna be the one 'ta call Julie and deliver the news that her beloved Frankie went and got himself killed at the taco bell intersection.”
Frankly makes a high and derisive noise. “Excuse you, I have class. I’d die outside of Howdy’s.”
“Please, he’d turn your memorial into part of the gift shop. I can already see the signs - ‘dead friend sale, five percent off!’”
“I’m worth at least thirty percent.”
Eddie clears his throat and gestures between the two of them. “You two… know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” Frankly mutters.
Barnaby grins. “Aw, you’re just saying that. It’s okay - I know ya love me, Frankie. You don’t have to say it.”
“I do not.”
“I have evidence that proves otherwise.”
Frankly rolls his eyes. “You’re unbearable.”
“And yet…”
Eddie heaves a sigh - of relief or exhaustion, he’s not sure - and drags a hand over his face. “Alright. Good, I - good to know.”
“What, did’ja think I was attacking him?” After a moment of prolonged, awkward silence, Barnaby’s teasing smile drops. “Oh. You did.”
“Barnaby? Attack me?” Frankly snorts. “Give him some credit - he’s smarter than he looks.”
“Yeah, I’d have better chances taking on a pack’a hyenas!” Barnaby lets out a hearty cackle. “At least then we’d all get a laugh out of it!”
“So I misjudged the situation pretty terribly,” Eddie says, inching to the side to give Frankly his personal space back. “My apologies.”
“Don’t sweat it, Ed. I know Frank may look like a bundle of sticks, but he’s petrified wood all the way through! Pure stone, you know.” Barnaby grins and leans towards Eddie. He whispers conspiratorially, “‘Cept when it comes to holdin’ his liquor. Then he’s a total lightweight.”
“Barnaby,” Frankly hisses.
“Practically paper!”
“That’s enough, thank you!” Frankly makes an attempt at shoving Barnaby away from the car door, but Barnaby widens his stance. It’s like watching someone try to move a tree.
“See, this is how I know he shouldn’t be driving,” Barnaby says conversationally to Eddie. “If he were sober, I’d be the one drunk - punch-drunk, that is.”
Eddie isn’t sure whether or not he should laugh - was that a joke? Barnaby seems fond of them, but… surely Frankly isn’t a violent person. Frankly lets out a growl of frustration and clumsily tries to bodyslam Barnaby. Eddie inches back a step.
“Alright Frankie, you had your fun.” Barnaby scruffs Frankly like a misbehaving cat and holds him at arm's length. He holds out a hand. “C’mon. Keys.”
“Never.”
“Have it your way. I’ll go ahead and call Poppy, tell her that you’ve forgotten the many dangers of-”
“Oh, fine,” Frankly spits. He yanks his keys out of his pocket and slaps them into Barnaby’s waiting hand. 
Barnaby flicks the keys as Frankly stalks to the passenger side door and yanks it open. “Choose a place for dinner, we’ll swing by and pick it up - my treat.”
“Obviously your treat,” Frankly grumbles. “As if I’d-”
The slam of his door cuts off whatever he says next, though Eddie can see him still talking in the car. His phone screen illuminates his irritated expression as he - presumably - looks up places for takeout. 
“Well, I’m glad you were here to stop him from doin’ somethin’ everyone would regret,” Eddie says. “Mr. Frankly-” 
“Mr. Frankly?” Barnaby snorts. “You’re not one of his students, are ya?”
“I’m just bein’ polite. He set the tone by referrin’ to me by Mr. Dear, so I’m tryin’ to respect that line in the sand.”
Barnaby shakes his head, grinning. “Just call him Frank. He puts up a big show of bein' a grouch, but he’s really a big softie. Though don’t - don’t try to pick a fight with him. Ever. You’ll lose.”
“Wasn’t plannin' on it.” Eddie makes a mental note to keep calling him Mr. Frankly, just to be on the safe side. It’s not like they’re friends, anyway. More like… acquaintances. Occasional Run-Into-Each-Other strangers. 
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cloxite · 4 months
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hiii, long time no see :) but now that the zine has been out for a while, i can finally share the piece i did for mcr detroit for @mcrswarmzine !!! the mod team were incredible to work with, as well as all the other artists + writers, and i'm sooo excited to get my physical copy sometime soon <33
if u weren't able to get a physical copy, digital copies of the zine are up in their shop!! i promise, it's extremely worth it <3
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icyfox17 · 1 month
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The demons got to me... Anyways here's the first snipp of a 911 x Psych crossover lmfao
"A psychic detective?" Eddie's unconvinced voice rings out in the station's kitchen. "Yeah!" Buck replies, chipper as ever as he puts together a PBJ sandwich. "The amount of cases he's solved is crazy. And—! He even uncovered a dinosaur skeleton. I've been meaning to drive to Santa Barbara to see it. Maybe I'll take Christopher—” "A psychic detective," Eddie repeats, having barely processed anything else Buck had said. He chuckles. “You can't—you can't seriously think this is real.” “Eddie, he's been working with the SBPD for years. Don't you think if he was a fake they would've found out by now?” Buck asks, and his voice sounds so genuine Eddie kind of wants to cry. “Buck. Buck. Magic isn't real. There is no way that he's actually psychic. It's a publicity stunt! Makes the SBPD stand out or something.” “Just you wait and see Eds. Once you meet him, you'll have to believe it.” Buck says, pointing at Eddie with the most obnoxious grin on his face. Eddie can't help but feel fond at the sight of it. Sure Buck’s an idiot, but at least he's a cute one. Eddie gives up on having this argument with him. No matter what Buck says, he won't be convinced. They couldn't convince him with the jinxes (although some small part of him is still slightly freaked out about that) and they won't convince him with this psychic detective, not even if he's the most sophisticated all-knowing person ever. ~*~ “Gus, how many burritos do you think I can fit in my mouth? My money's on six, but maybe if I shove them in horizontally…” He reaches over to grab the cooler from beside Gus in the back seat, but Jules slaps his hand away. “Shawn, seriously? Those burritos are for everyone.” Shawn huffs, crossing his arms with a pout. “Yeah well, we've been in this car for hours, and I'm starving to death.” “It's been an hour Shawn,” Gus’ voice pops up from the backseat and Shawn shoots him a betrayed look. “Whose side are you on?!” Gus tilts his head. “The side that makes sure that I still have some burritos for myself.” He then opens up the same cooler that Shawn was just trying to reach into, and pulls out a perfectly tinfoil wrapped burrito that he delicately peels away. His eyes are alight with glee as he unhinges his jaw and prepares to take the biggest bite known to man, when Shawn twists around in his seat and grips Gus’ arm, pulling it and the burrito away from his mouth. “That burrito is mine sucker!” Shawn calls out, trying to take the burrito for himself. “Oh no you don't, Shawn!!” The two of them struggle back and forth, causing the car to shake slightly, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that Gus is a backstabber and Shawn needs his burrito! “Guys!” Jules’ voice calls out sharp, and the two of them freeze—Gus’ left hand smushed into Shawn's face, and Shawn’s free hand gripping Gus’ throat in a chokehold, their other hands wrapped tightly around the burrito in a tug of war. She outstretches her right hand, keeping her left hand on the wheel, and makes a grabbing motion. The two of them dejectedly give the burrito into her palm and she huffs, smiling. “Thank you. We have one more hour to go. You can both eat one burrito, okay? The rest are for when we get there.” She then takes a satisfied chomp of the burrito in her hand.
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dollsuguru · 3 months
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starting my curator!geto fic officially now! <3
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the-broken-pen · 13 days
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A sapphic detective who gets too close to the truth of a case and gets confronted by her girlfriend for being too obsessed?
“You need to stop.”
The detective didn’t jerk up at the sound of her voice—just quietly stirred, rustling papers as she shifted upright to meet her eyes.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” the detective said slowly, eyes scanning over her. She watched her gaze catch on the water dripping from the ends of her hair, the mascara smudging itself down her cheeks.
“It’s date night,” she said, and even to her own ears her voice sounded tired. Dead. Rotting roses and dirty dishes in the sink.
The detective blinked once, then shifted through her papers until she found a scribbled in calendar. It was stuck on the wrong month.
“I forgot,” the detective murmured. It wasn’t an apology, and neither of them were pretending that it was. She could tell, even now, with her girlfriend pathetic and dripping water onto the hardwood floor in front of her, that the detective wanted nothing more than to go back to her evidence.
��Yeah,” she croaked. “Funny how it’s never the case you forget.”
The detective jerked, slightly, like she hadn’t expected the barbs in her girlfriend’s voice.
In the hallway, there was a drooping bouquet of flowers she hadn’t been able to bear bringing into the apartment.
“You know how important this is,” the detective implored, and it made her want to break things. Burn the papers, shatter the fancy glasses in the cabinet, spill wine across the carpets.
What about me, she wanted to scream. Am I not important to you anymore?
Instead, she said again, “You need to stop.”
“Stop?”
“The case. You need to stop.”
“I can’t just stop,” the detective laughed slightly, as if she thought it would convey how inconceivable the idea of stopping was.
“Yes, you can. Give it to someone else. There’s a whole precinct just waiting for you to put this file into their hands.”
At the thought of it, the thought of giving up this case, the hunt, the chase, pain flashed across the detective’s face.
“You don’t understand.”
“I do,” she replied. She had to shift her gaze to the dead plant on the corner of her partner’s desk, dirt dry and leaves brittle. “How could I not?”
“So then how could you ask me to do that? To give it all up? Why now?”
She had so many answers to that. So many moments that cut into her hands like a mosaic of memories. The bed empty beside her through the entire night. Cancelled reservations, one seat alone at the dinner table, laughs that died in her ribs. Friends, well meaning, who asked where the detective was, and the painful smiles she forced through the explanations. Work, and work, and work. Crime scene photos on the coffee table. The loneliness that seemed to care about her more than her girlfriend did.
There were so many times when she almost said something. Almost said enough. But she hadn’t, and now they were here, as she dripped a puddle onto the floor, and the detective looked at her like she had never seen her before.
When she tried to say that, any of that, it caught in her throat.
The detective took her silence for an inability to answer. A lack of evidence. Like she was throwing this tantrum for no reason, a little kid in the toy aisle of the store.
The detective sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. The other was already fanning through the papers once more. Her voice turned into something that begged to be understood.
“I’m so close—“
“To losing me.” She swallowed, painfully. “You’re losing me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“This isn’t fair,” her voice broke as she gestured between the two of them. “What you’re doing to me isn’t fair.”
“I’m not doing anything—“
“Exactly.” It was louder than she meant it to be. They both flinched.
“I’ll have it solved in a week, I promise.” She wasn’t sure who the detective was promising to.
“No.”
The detective blinked.
“No?”
“You heard me the first time.”
“I heard you, but I’m not sure what you’re saying ‘no’ to.”
If she had the energy to be slightly meaner, she would have told her to figure it out. Told her that she was a detective, this should be easy for her.
“I’m not giving you a week.” She took a deep breath. “And you’re not going to solve it.”
The detective’s looked at her like she didn’t recognize the person on the other side of the desk.
Finally, she understood what it felt like to face her girlfriend from the other side of an interrogation table.
Her girlfriend’s face was cold, and closed off. Her jaw was grinding into itself. She was staring at her like she couldn’t decide whether or not to consider her a suspect. As if the only reason she could fathom her girlfriend saying something like that was if she was actively sabotaging her.
She was cold, and her coat was wet, and this place no longer felt like home.
“You won’t solve this case.”
She was pretty sure there wasn’t anything crueler she could have said.
“You don’t know anything.” It was dripping with venom, and fear, and frustration. The fear the detective really wouldn’t solve it. The frustration that it still wasn’t solved.
“Do you really think you’re that special?” By now, it was too far gone for her to stop. There was no pretty way out of this. “You aren’t. This isn’t a TV show. You aren’t the main character who swoops in where no one else has before. It’s been decades of the same bullshit—taunting and evidence trails, and nobody has solved it. Don’t you think if it was solvable, it would have been by now?”
“There’s new evidence, and I’m not them—“
“What part of ‘you aren’t special’ don’t you understand,” she hissed, and the detective shifted away from her. “You aren’t the miracle detective who solves this. They’re going to keep on killing, and driving the people who try and find them crazy, and you’re letting them do it to you.”
“I’m not letting them do anything.”
“But you are,” she countered. “You have been for months. They’re messing with you. They’re everything to you, and you’re a game to them, and I’m nothing on the sidelines.”
“Babe, that’s not true,” The detective tried, voice softening. As if she had just realized something between them was wrong. That her girlfriend was hurting—had been, for a while.
She swallowed the tears rising in her throat.
“Do I need to become a crime scene for you to finally care about me again?” She slammed her hand down on the papers. Pretended the wince on the detectives face was concern for her, and not the papers she crumpled. “Will you look at me, love me again, if I’m a bloody photograph in this folder?”
“I do love you.”
“When someone loves someone else, they don’t leave them alone in the rain, waiting to be picked up. They don’t cancel to go dig through old archives on their loved one’s birthday. They don’t leave them in the middle of the night and let the blankets beside them get cold. People who love someone don’t live their life without a concern for the person they’re putting below everything else.”
“You’re making this really hard.”
“Good,” she snapped. “Because you’ve been making it hard to love you for months, and I’m glad you finally know how it feels.”
The detective paused, at that. Swallowed, eyes flitting around the room as if she would find the perfect thing to say in the remnants of the life they had built together.
“I love you,” The detective managed. Somehow, it was the worst thing she could have said.
“Good. Prove it.” She thought maybe dying would have hurt less than this.
“Prove it?”
“Prove it. Me, or the case.”
The detective froze.
“You don’t mean that,” she said, and it sounded like a plea. Don’t make me choose.
“Look at me and try and tell me I’m joking.” When the detective said nothing, she pushed further. “Go on. Do it. Choose.”
“I can’t do that—“ the detective choked. “This isn’t fair, you know that. I’m so close.”
Somehow, she had expected it to hurt less.
“Don’t make me choose,” the detective, her girlfriend, the love of her life finally said, voice breaking.
She had thought it would feel like dying.
It felt like nothing.
“You just did,” she said. The tears refused to be held, this time. The pain ran rampant through every word.
She knew her girlfriend could hear it.
“I love you,” the detective whispered. A final, desperate prayer for her to stay. But she was no god, and her girlfriend was no believer. And it would never be enough.
She let the door slam on the way out.
The detective never did solve that case.
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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 months
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For those of y'all newer folks who don't know who Paladin is.... Intro, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 8b, Part 9, Part 10, Part 10b, Extra
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