It was much earlier in the night. The moon hung high and full in the cloudy sky over Canterlot. The city fog hung low over the streets. From up in Tenpony Towers, it looked like a great gray flood.

A pen nib scratched and slid across a bit of parchment paper, sketching out a detailed drawing of a bell. Notes sat around it, musing to the effect of “Greenish color; copper alloy?” and “Resonant frequency as spell delivery.” and other such considerations. Sunburst yawned and drank deep of a cup of green tea.

“No use speculating without more info. I wonder if…?” Sunburst said, when a pair of long, light purple arms slid around his shoulders.

“H-hey there!” Sunburst said.

“Sunbuuurst…come to bed. You’ve been studying for hours.” Starlight groaned. At this late hour, her typical reservations where like a distant dream. She nuzzled her cheek against Sunburst’s, her eyes totally closed.

“I will, I promise. We just got so much information at the hive, I’m having trouble getting it all down on paper!” Sunburst said. “For instance, we found out that the cloaks are using this strange bell to cast spells. I’ve never seen an artifact like it.” Sunburst said.

“I do.” Starlight said, gravely. Sunburst touched her hand gently.

“You do?” Sunburst said.

“I do. My Dad used something like that in Fillydelphia.” Starlight said.

"Oh. Oh, no." Sunburst said.

"I..." Starlight yawned. “I’m going back to bed, and you should, too. I'll tell you more about it in the morning.”

“Okay. I’m going to make a quick call, and I’ll be right there, I promise.” Sunburst said, kissing Starlight right under the chin.

They parted, but as Starlight stepped away, she held Sunburst’s hand.

“Sunburst…” Starlight said. “Sometimes, well...doesn't it feel like we're learning things we're not supposed to?"

"What do you do when a book gets banned?" Sunburst said.

Starlight said nothing.

"You read it as fast as you can." Sunburst said, smiling.

"Heh. That's what I love about you." Starlight said, and away she went to lay down.

The bedroom door shut. Sunburst’s easy-going smile faded, leaving him to sit in darkness of the living room, his glasses full of the yellow light from his desk lamp. He sighed and stretched, then started tapping on his phone.

A trilling beep rang out. Sunburst scrambled to lower the volume, when a familiar voice replaced the tone.

“Hello? Hello? If this is another telemarketer, I'm going to flood your home office.” Adagio said.

“Adagio! Hey!” Sunburst said.

“Sunburst? Oh, what a surprise! Hello!” Adagio said. “I don’t think we’ve spoken on the phone before, have we?”

“Not even once! Weird, isn’t it?” Sunburst said.

“It is! It’s just as weird as calling my house phone at this hour of night! This better be good; I just got into the bath.” Adagio said.

“Your house phone is in the bathroom?” Sunburst blushed.

“Is yours not?” Adagio said.

“Nevermind. I’m sorry to interrupt your night; I’m looking for some magical esoterica, and as this world’s polymath of equestrian history, I thought you might have some insights.” Sunburst said.

“Such flattery! Excellent form. I suppose you’re at home with all your notes?” Adagio said.

“Yes. There’s a particular artifact–” Sunburst said.

“Does your phone do the little video conference thing?” Adagio said.

“You mean face time? Yes, it does.” Sunburst said.

“Ah…let me see…there.” Adagio said.

Suddenly, Sunburst’s phone filled with an image of Adagio soaking in a wide, marble bathtub filled with steaming suds. Her hair was wrapped in a towering towel, and she was down to her neck in the opaque pink bubbles, holding a corded telephone receiver up to her ear. There was a glass of wine on a little shelf next to the tub, and a tray of tarts. From Adagio’s perspective, Sunburst was framed in a small screen recessed into the wall across from her. She grinned as he frantically covered his eyes.

“Woah! Woah! Okay!” Sunburst said.

“Cat got your tongue?” Adagio said. “I’m in a towel, Sunburst. Relax. It’s not as if you can see anything.”

Through his fingers, Sunburst saw Adagio cross one leg over another as she reclined. It felt like he was under a heat lamp in a hatchery.

“Right, well…I wanted to follow up on the fight we had out in the snow.” Sunburst said.

“I…gods, Sunburst, can’t you see I’m trying to relax? Can’t we save the emotional diatribe for daylight?” Adagio said.

“No, not about you and Buck’s magic. I meant about Minuette.” Sunburst said.

“I’m already working on that.” Adagio said, taking a sip of wine.

“It’s the artifact she had. I noticed it when we were in the middle of the fight. Have you ever seen something like this before?” Sunburst said.

Sunburst turned his phone to the desk, and Adagio’s bath screen was filled with his drawing of a bell with strange runes on it. Her eyes widened with shock.

“It’s the best recreation I could draw up. I only saw it for a second, but-” Sunburst said.

“It’s a Bewitching Bell.” Adagio said, gravely. “An artifact older than the study of magic. Older than Equestria; older than ponies themselves. It is a baleful and horrific thing; a calamity in the hands of monsters.”

“Is it really that dire?” Sunburst said. “We’ve managed to beat the cult back so far.”

“The Bewitching Bell can store negative emotions in the form of a song; the bell’s chime. Allegedly, the original contained an unceasing inferno of fear and hate, born of the tyrant god Grogar. Its construction is fundamentally simple, but the knowledge and skill necessary to make its spell matrixes work is lost knowledge. That those ghouls managed to reproduce it is a dark omen. If they’re using it, then suffering must sit at the core of their ambitions.” Adagio said.

“If it’s so unfathomably ancient, how do you know so much about it?” Sunburst said.

Adagio’s playful expression was a bitter memory. She glared at Sunburst through his phone, and for a brief moment, her lounging posture in the bath gave off the same air of menace as a drifting alligator.

“Because, Sunburst, I tried to make one.” Adagio sighed. “And I wasn’t the first. Do you remember the missing pages in Stygian’s Spellbook?”

“Oh.” Sunburst said. “You don’t think-”

“It’s a little late in the day for thinking. I’m going to drink my wine and rest. I suggest you do the same.” Adagio said.

“Wait a minute, how are we supposed to fight against a bell?” Sunburst said.

“It’s a song, Sunburst. Try covering your ears.” Adagio said.

“What does that even-”

“Thank you for calling; we should do this again sometime! Goodnight.” Adagio said, clicking the phone receiver into place.

She shook her head as she clicked a remote. The little screen shifted from Sunburst’s confused expression to the intro of Three’s Company. Adagio uncorked her second, but far from last, bottle of wine for the evening.

“Come and knock on our door, come and knock on our door, we’ll be waiting for you…” Adagio hummed.

Later, in a bubble bath on the other side of town, Ditzy Doo was alone. Her shoulders were low and tensed; her hands clutching her head for fear it might split open. Gritted teeth, shaking off-center eyes and ragged breaths were the only sound in Ditzy’s bathroom now, but she could swear she’d heard something else. Some distant chime ringing from a million miles away that told her in no uncertain terms that everything was going wrong. Revelations stabbed into her mind, one after another.

The mother that crushed her. The monster that abused her. The daughter that was beginning to resent her. Buck; whatever he was becoming outside of her notice. The weight of Ditzy’s many failures bore down with a crushing weight. Dark specters made of suffering, trying to press her beneath the water. She couldn’t speak. She could barely move, but she knew what this was, and she knew how to fight it.

Ditzy Doo dipped a hand into the bath water; felt the tingling heat. She ran her fingers across the soap bar; it was tacky and smooth. She felt her own wet hair, a soft golden curtain of split-ends that was both a source of pride and shame.

Ditzy gasped. Her eyes opened.

“That’s right…that’s right. I’m at home. This is…this is my bathroom.” Ditzy said.

Ditzy looked around her small, cluttered bathroom. The sink, crowded with hair care products. The potted plants on the windowsill. The line of old light bulbs above the mirror, half of which had burned out. The little drawing of a caterpillar next to the door handle. Dinky had drawn it in crayon months ago, and Ditzy hadn’t had the heart to clean it up. Ditzy couldn’t help but match the little cartoon smile on the caterpillar’s face.

Another chime battered Ditzy’s ears. A ringing deep inside that drowned out everything but despair. Even stronger now, Ditzy could feel the abyss calling for her.

“No, no, no, no…! Two smells, come on…!” Ditzy groaned, taking a deep breath. “Chamomile bubble bath. And…sea spray shampoo.”

Ditzy reached out of the tub with all her might and grabbed her saving grace. The rich, creamy taste of Mrs. Cake’s blueberry muffin brought Ditzy back up to the surface of her mind. A delight so pure and familiar, it anchored her to reality. With each bite, the ringing faded. Darkness pulled at Ditzy’s mind, but its grip was weakening. Ditzy sat back in the bath, feeling her heartbeat and chewing contentedly.

In the battle between despair and Ditzy Doo’s will, there was no contest.

“Phew…that was a rough one.” Ditzy sighed. “I gotta talk to Silver Spoon about this. They’re happening more often.”

Just outside and one story down, the cloaked figure dropped to one knee. Its dark sleeve brushed against the earth, and something twisted under the soil. The bell rose again in a skeletal hand, which glinted bone white in the fleeting moon light.

Agent Sweetie Drops dashed forward. She couldn’t afford to let the cloaked figure ring that bell again; it was using some sort of enchantment. In times like these, all she could do was rely on her training.

Sensible black shoes plopped across the muddy path behind Ditzy’s apartment. The cloak turned just in time to meet the business end of Sweetie Drop’s metal baton. With a harsh crack, it fell to the ground, its body seizing up.

“I bet that hurt, didn’t it? This staff’s tip is coated in changeling stone.” Sweetie Drops sneered, kicking the copper bell away. “Magical entities hate it.”

Sweetie Drops squatted down and touched the staff to the figure’s side. It shuddered painfully, making a low, rasping groan.

“I know, I know. Can’t use spells, can’t move. We know you things run on mana. This is the part where you tell me everything about your little cabal. Make it easy on both of us, hm?” Sweetie Drops said.

Even through the low, drifting fog and the darkness of the creature’s hood, Sweetie Drops glimpse a hint of a smile. Even immobilized, it was unnerving.

“Nothing you can do to me is worse than what I’ve already suffered.” The cloak said. Its voice was like a distant whisper in the woods; hollow and dark. “And not all magic is so easily undone!”

The wet soil shook and ruptured. Black vines sprouted from the ground in a rush, raking across Sweetie Drops with a thousand sharp thorns.

“Guhh…!” Sweetie Drops grunted, trying to stumble back, but she was too slow.

The vines swiftly wrapped up her form, then threw her unceremoniously over the apartment roof.

The cloaked figure sat up slowly, its top half lifted by the black vines. It picked up the bell slowly, and then the vines coiled beneath it and raised it up to Ditzy Doo’s bathroom window.

It was cold and wet in the shadow of Buck’s balcony. Scootaloo clung to the edge, her feet only somewhat securely planted on the nearby storm drain. Despite her gray sweatsuit and matching pants, she felt terribly exposed. Scootaloo watched with voyeuristic fascination as Buck slowly lowered the guitar he’d been prepared to swing. The expression on his face held a sort of levity that she’d only seen when he was hanging around with Sunburst.

“Hey nerd.” Smolder said.

“Pfft…! Hey, Smolder. Where you at?” Buck said.

“Nowhere important. Just some dingus’s crummy apartment! Some loser named Buck, you know the one?” Smolder said.

“Hah, why? Did you miss him? Maybe wanted to show him that cute top you got on?” Buck said.

“Shut up!” Smolder laughed. “What were you gonna do with that guitar; play me off?”

“Fuckin’ I dunno, I thought you were a burglar or a stray crackhead. You get those around here!” Buck said.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. I was just thinking, it’s nuts that I’m in town, and we haven’t hung out yet. Right?” Smolder said.

“Uh…well, yeah. It’s been ages! Ah, but, you know, it’s late. Maybe-”

“Nah, it’s cool. We don’t have to be loud, or anything.” Smolder said, stepping into Buck’s living room. She shut the glass door behind her. It locked with a soft click.

“Shhhit!” Scootaloo whispered.

“...were you fighting with your brother?” Buck said.

“Yeah. He’s an asshole.” Smolder said, rolling her eyes. “I, uh, might’ve been lighting up on his balcony, and…I might’ve heard that something might’ve happened, and…uh…I just wanted to make sure you had a friend tonight.”

Buck rose from the couch slowly, and suddenly swept Smolder up into a hug.

“Thanks…!” Buck said.

“Alright, alright, you big baby!” Smolder complained, but Scootaloo could see an unmistakable smile on her face as she patted Buck’s back. A split second of tenderness that disappeared as Buck let Smolder go.

“Seriously, thanks.” Buck said, setting her down. “It’s like old times.”

“Yeah, and this time, I’m not empty handed!” Smolder said, jangling a six pack of some fruity hard lemonades. “I got those girly-ass drinks you always like. And I know you got weed in here.”

“Well, yeah.” Buck said.

“So?” Smolder said.

“So what?” Buck said.

“Sooooo…you wanna get crossed? For old time’s sake? I think we both deserve a good night.” Smolder said, grinning toothily.

Buck thought of the alternative; a night spent playing the blues on an acoustic guitar like the saddest street performer in the world.

“You know what? I’ve been having the strangest, shittiest time. Fuck it.” Buck said.

“Hell yeah?” Smolder said. She raised a bottle to her mouth and popped the cap off with her snaggletooth in one quick motion.

“Hell yeah.” Buck said, and struggled briefly to twist the cap before slamming it off on the kitchen counter.

And just like that, Buck was back in college, slugging back cheap, fruity alcohol and laughing over a playlist of trashy grunge music videos playing on the TV. Smolder knew exactly how to cheer him up, and it showed. Scootaloo felt a deep pit of alien jealousy as she watched Smolder giggling, leaning against Buck like they were a two-man peanut gallery.

After a few drinks and a quip or two. Smolder gave Buck a knowing smirk.

“Well, go on. Explain yourself.” Smolder said.

“Huh?” Buck said.

“Huhh?” Smolder repeated, mockingly. “You think I don’t know you, or something? You’re in a funk! A serious one. So tell me what’s going on.”

“To be honest, I don’t think you’d get it.” Buck said, raising a rolled blunt to his lips. His lighter flicked and sparked, but no flame emerged.

Buck had half a mind to use a bit of magic to light up, but then Smolder took the blunt out of his hand, and blew out a short plume of flame at the tip. She took in a long drag, then passed it over to Buck.

“Try me.” Smolder said

“Shit, alright. I’ll try and keep it brief.” Buck said, and put the blunt to his lips.

Scootaloo had just climbed over the rail of Buck’s balcony when she suddenly froze, covering her mouth in shock.

“An indirect kiss!” Scootaloo whispered.

What Scootaloo failed to notice was Sweetie Drops soaring through the air, then suddenly snagging on a chord so thin, it was nearly invisible before swinging around to land on the apartment’s roof.

The cloaked figure stared through the bathroom window and saw Ditzy Doo…relaxing in her tub. Her eyes were closed. She hummed contentedly as she gently lathered soap on her arms. The cloak’s smile turned into a scowl beneath its hood. It raised the bell once more.

“No you don’t!” Sweetie Drops said.

A light thud. A rush of footsteps. The sound of a chord grinding against a metal bit. A thin black wire wound around the cloak’s shoulders, and it was suddenly heaved up onto the roof. A small, three-pointed grappling hook dug into the cloak’s back, and its line led directly into an odd metallic belt around Sweetie Drop’s waist. She had it constricted.

“It’s late. People are trying to relax and sleep. Don’t you have any sense of decorum?” Sweetie Drops said.

“Soon…very soon, not even the dead will sleep in this city.” The cloak said, and black vines spilled out of its sleeves.

At the same time, the lilies on Ditzy’s bathroom windowsill shook in their pots. A dark blue seed had been dropped into each one, and with nothing more than a low creak, they burst open. More of those black vines with their sharp blue thorns emerged from the soil, quietly snapping holes in the cheap plastic planters. They crept along the floor like slithering snakes, closing on the resting Ditzy Doo with silent malice.

“...And then she left, and I’ve just been sitting here trying to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.” Buck said.

He was sitting back, staring up at the ceiling again. His eyes were going red, and not entirely from the weed. Smolder sat next to him, leaning forward in rapt attention.

“Holy shit.” Smolder said.

“I know.” Buck said.

“Holy shit!” Smolder said.

“I know! I know!” Buck said. “This whole thing is my fault. I need to figure out how to make things right, or–”

“What? No! That’s not what’s going on.” Smolder said. “Look, I know you’re in a jam, and super overwhelmed, but dude, you gotta be more gentle with yourself. Like way, way more. You can’t fuckin’ blame yourself for Ditzy’s problems with intimacy, just like you can’t blame yourself for those kids, or what Adagio is doing. You’re not responsible for anybody but you.”

“Okay, but if I stop doing magic, like Ditzy wants, the whole city is fucked, but if I keep doing magic, she’ll never talk to me again.” Buck said.

“That’s on her!” Smolder said.

“But with Adagio, I don’t even know if-”

“Okay, stop. Stop it! Shut up! You’re doing your best. That’s all anyone can ask.” Smolder said.

“Well, my best is an idiot.” Buck said.

“Instead of worrying about what everyone else thinks or wants, you gotta pull it back and ask yourself; what am I trying to do? What does Buck want?” Smolder said.

“...I…I dunno.” Buck said.

“I think you do. I think you’re just scared to admit it.” Smolder said. “Because if you do…it’s real.”

Her expression brooked no argument. Despite the glazed redness of her eyes, her stare and smile were no less sharp. Buck understood with a sudden, terrifying clarity how Adagio felt when he looked hard at her.

“I want…to open the screen door. It’s getting dank as fuck in here.” Buck said, getting up and sliding open the glass and screen doors to the patio. He paused and stretched his aching arms, yawning loudly.

“You’re running from the truth, man. You keep putting everybody above yourself, one day you’re gonna find yourself at the bottom of the world’s shittiest pyramid.” Smolder said.

Though she chided, Scootaloo could see Smolder looking Buck up and down with a glazed hunger.

“...I did miss you, by the way.” Smolder said. “You look good.”

With Buck’s eyes closed and Smolder’s tracing along the curves of his shoulders and biceps, neither noticed Scootaloo silently scramble into the living room and dive behind the couch. Buck turned on his ceiling fan and let the place air out.

“I missed you too! You look hot as hell; don’t think I didn’t notice the tan! You’ve been abroad for a bit, yeah? Using that cartography degree?” Buck said, plopping back onto the couch.

“Yeah, basically. I’ve done a little landscape planning with the forestry service; that’s always my favorite, and some street layout bullshit; a lotta shitty old dudes in that gig.” Smolder said.

“Gross. You like it?” Buck said.

“It has its moments. It’s like a puzzle; how do I best use this space, mathematically speaking. Or how can I find the most efficient path through this location? That kinda thing. Still breaking my brain about the tunnels around here.” Smolder said.

“The Pillars better be paying you for that.” Buck said.

“They are, they are. And not a small amount; it’s like my salary and a third.” Smolder said.

“Wow. They haven’t paid us up for yesterday yet. Cheapskates.” Buck said.

“Try not to fuck with them, huh? These people are dangerous. They threatened to zap me and Gar Gar’s memories over what happened at the fair. I’m…sorry about all that.”

“Hey, hey, that wasn’t your fault, it was mine! If I hadn’t shown up and–fucking OW!” Buck wailed suddenly as Smolder slugged him in the shoulder. “What was that for!?”

“Cut that out! Way I heard it, I would’ve burned everything down if you didn’t juice up that Adagio lady, so thanks.” Smolder said.

“Well, I guess, but–”

“I said thanks! Jesus. You really haven’t changed much since college.” Smolder said.

“No, I’ve…I’m definitely goin’ through changes.” Buck said. “I got no clue what the hell I’m doin’ half the time, and adding magic on top of that hasn’t helped. I’m like a bonfire of bullshit.”

“Well, I think your magic sounds rad as fuck. You’re out there doing bard shit; that’s way more valuable than you think.” Smolder said.

“I guess. I’ve only really got the hang of a few cantrips so far. I got this whole doc full’a crazy spell ideas, though most of it is sex stuff.” Buck said.

“Hah! Typical.” Smolder said.

“Yeah, not super useful for fighting monsters.” Buck said.

“Sure, if you’re a coward.” Smolder said.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Buck said.

“Come on, Buck! You’re a monster fucker. We all know it; this is your intervention!” Smolder said.

“How fucking dare you.” Buck said.

“You get captured by a crazy shapeshifting bug lady, and your first thought is ‘I totally gotta slam her down big style’! You meet an evil clone of your crazy ex, and you decide to have a little chat and cuddle? You’ve gotta be the most stereotypical horny bard I know!” Smolder said, slapping Buck’s shoulder.

“Come on, it’s not like that! I was just doin’ what I thought was best!” Buck said, pushing Smolder away.

“Yeah, best for your dick!” Smolder said, shoving him back. “You might as well admit it, dude. It’ll be easier on everybody if you just embrace your inner slut!”

“Now you sound like Adagio!” Buck said.

“You take that back! She’s like twenty pounds of bitch in a five-pound bag!” Smolder cackled.

Scootaloo listened carefully from behind the couch. For a moment, she thought Buck might be in danger of another dragon attack, but as she carefully peeked over the sofa’s back wall, she realized the thuds she heard were Buck and Smolder having an honest-to-goodness tussle. For a guy Buck’s size, he was having a surprisingly hard time pinning Smolder down, until the two of them rolled onto the floor with a thud. Buck had pinned Smolder’s wrists, and she was looking up at him, panting through a sharp grin.

“I win! Hah! What, uh…what were we fighting about again?” Buck slurred.

“Fuck if I know!” Smolder laughed.

“Pfft. You’re the one who hasn’t changed, Smolder.” Buck chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe…” Smolder said. “...so, uh…you wanna try some?”

“Try some what?” Buck said.

“You know! Try some of that crazy sex magic you were talking about.” Smolder said.

“What, now?” Buck said.

“No, dude, next week. Goddamn, you’re as dense as ever.” Smolder said, rolling her eyes. There was a soft blush across her orange cheeks.

Buck let go of Smolder’s wrists, carefully getting off her, much to her chagrin.

“Smolder, things are…they’re complicated right now. I don’t know who I’d piss off if I said, yes, but it’s bound to be somebody.” Buck said, sitting back on the couch.

As Smolder rose to land heavily next to him, Scootaloo ducked down again, out of sight.

“See, that’s the best part; nobody needs to know! We can just not tell anybody about it, ‘cause its none of their fucking business.” Smolder said.

“I thought you came here to give me advice?” Buck said, smiling ruefully.

“I came here to have a good time. Remember how we used to roleplay…?” Smolder said, sliding over to straddle Buck’s lap. “You can pretend I’m Her.”

“Who?” Buck said.

“Whoever. You know I don’t give a shit.” Smolder said, taking a long drag from their shared blunt, which was down to barely a nub.

“Smolder…I dunno how ethical this is.” Buck said.

“Fuck, I know! That’s what makes it so hot…!” Smolder growled.

Her breath was hot and fruity on Buck’s face. She took his hands now, and placed them squarely on her ass. He couldn’t help but match her mischievous expression with his own. He had missed her, truly.

“Why now?” Buck said.

“Because maybe I got a little pissed when I came to see my two favorite guys and found out they’re both spoken for.” Smolder growled next to Buck’s ear. Just below her and out of sight, Scootaloo was turning beet red.

There was a slight sound of fabric ripping; and a low groan from the couch. Buck blinked. Smolder’s teeth had already been sharp…but were they always this long?

“And maybe I think it’d be kinda grimy and kinda fucking sexy if I got to snatch some hot dick off you before those other two wise up and stop playing games.” Smolder said.

Her shoulders grew sharper. Her thighs got thicker, tearing open the edges of her dark gray jean shorts.

“So maybe you can cut the innocent act and have some goddamn fun for once? We can help each other out.” Smolder said.

“...you give me that good neck, and I do that finger thing you like?” Buck said.

“Fuck yeah, dude.” Smolder said. There was a spark of flame in her eyes; one Buck had seen before in his dark clone. It was strange to be on the other end of such a lustful glare.

“...alright.” Buck said. “Not a word about this, not to anyone, alright?”

“Expect Sunburst, right?” Smolder said.

“Well yeah, Sunburst is cool. But everybody else? Hell no. Especially not Scoots. She can’t keep a secret.” Buck said.

Behind the couch, Scootaloo was mortified. Her silent delight at the night’s events turned into a sudden dismay. She heard a small thud, the jingling of a belt and the rustle of fabric. The picture painted in her mind’s eye was a vivid one; Smolder’s intense, blue gaze between Buck’s knees, catching his zipper in her teeth as she got ready to…

Buck’s jeans soared over Scootaloo’s head, clattering onto the kitchen counter. Scootaloo barely managed to cover her mouth, turning her shriek into a tiny peep.

“The little dude with the flat booty?” Smolder said. “You know, you could totally tap that. I told her some about your GMing and she was on the edge of her seat; that girl’s down tremendous.”

“Thaaaat’s a little complicated.” Buck said.

“When is it not with you?” Smolder said.

Tiny sounds came from the other side of the couch. Scootaloo strained to hear, getting up to a slight crouch with her ear up in the air. Little kissy noises. A soft, wet, smek, smek, smek. With each one, Buck let out a soft inhale.

“Ugh. She’s just…so much younger than me, man.” Buck said, then followed up with a whimper. “Oh, fuck…”

“Mhmm…” Smolder said, but it was less an affirmation than the sound you make when you’re enjoying a particularly tasty ice cream cone.

Scootaloo shut her eyes, trying to picture the scene, but their words stung too much for her to focus.

“And I knew her back when she was a freshman in high school! I think…maybe a part of me still treats her like a little kid. And that’s not really fair to her…but I do feel guilty about objectifying her, you know?”

Scootaloo wanted to throw herself straight off Buck’s balcony, but she felt rooted to the spot.

“Doesn’t gotta be that deep, big guy. Mmmmmmm…” Smolder said.

The lip smacking sounds got a bit louder. Smolder hummed gently. Buck’s hand came over the side of the couch, grabbing the back wall firmly.

“I know. And she’s a really damn good friend; she always comes in clutch, and listens, uh…sorta, and she’s cute as hell, but…fuck…easy, easy…!” Buck said.

A loud pop. Buck gasped. Smolder sucked her teeth.

“You’re way overthinking it. If the little dude wants to get it, it’s either yes or no. Simple.” Smolder said. “And besides, the best fucking sex is the kind you feel a little guilty about. For instance…”

“I guess…oh, I got distracted. Here, check this out! For my first trick…!” Buck said, and then there was a loud snap of his fingers and a little slide whistle noise. Scootaloo saw the walls flash red and then…

“Uh…was something supposed to happen?” Smolder said.

“Look closer. See the lil’ sparkles?” Buck said.

Scootaloo dared to peek over the wall of the couch, and there she saw Smolder inspecting Buck’s erect cock with a quizzical look. She gave it a couple of limp-wristed pumps and saw little red dazzles floating around it. Scootaloo dipped back out of sight as Smolder looked up at Buck with a raised eyebrow.

“So what?” Smolder said. “You could do the same thing tossing glitter on your dick.”

“Give it another taste.” Buck said.

“Mmm…hm? Oh! Woooah!” Smolder said. “There’s no way!”
“That’s right! I’ve been practicing, and it’s finally paid off! I can change the flavor of my dick! It’s only pink lemonade or chocolate so far, but I-aah! Oooh…oooh, fuck, keep doin’ that…!” Buck said.

There was a wet squishing sound, like somebody swishing their fingers around in a bowl of jello.

“God…fuck…fuck…!” Buck said.

“There ya go, big guy…that’s the good spot, huh? You like it when I squeeze right here, huh? Does that feel good? Mmm…fuck yeah it does…!” Smolder said.

Scootaloo crawled around the side of the couch. Her eyes widened at what she saw; Smolder had grabbed Buck’s thick cock at the base with one hand, and was stroking just the neck of his glans with her free thumb and forefinger. She was studying Buck’s tortured expression gleefully, dirty talking while he shook and groaned with his eyes closed.

“Betcha wish Ditzy would give you some’a this, huh? Yeah…fuck, your twitchin’ up a storm…!” Smolder said. With a long, hacking drawl, Smolder spat on Buck’s cock head and continued her finger assault at twice the speed. Buck’s groans turned into a whimper.

Before Scootaloo knew it, her hand had drifted between her own thighs. She’d already soaked through her sweatpants.

“Gaaahh…fuck, Smolder! It’s been ages!” Buck said.

“Shhhhut the fuck up! You want my brother to hear?” Smolder said.

“And so what if I do?” Buck said.

“There’s the Buck I know…!” Smolder said.

Smolder opened her mouth and a long, pointed tongue rolled out. It had three studs pierced along it in a tidy row, which began to slide and bump around Buck’s sensitive cockhead in slow circles.

“Mnnnagghh…” Smolder moaned. “You taste so fucking good like this…!”

“Fffffuck yes!” Buck groaned.

“Holy moly…!” Scootaloo whispered.

Buck’s foot stomped as Smolder savaged his most sensitive spots with her tongue. Her head bobbed as she took Buck’s cock head into her mouth and stroked along its length. Rainbow embers flickered in the air around the two, joined by red sparks, and through their flashes, Scootaloo could see the suggestion of curling horns, a pair of leathery wings, and a long, wagging tail coming off Smolder. There was a smug satisfaction in the way she held eye contact with Buck, who had started stroking her hair affectionately.

“Hey…fuck, fuck fuck…hey, I asked for good neck, didn’t I? Get low on it.” Buck said.

Smolder let Buck’s dick go with a loud pop.

“Make me.” Smolder grinned.

Buck grabbed a fistful of hair and shoved Smolder’s head down. In one rough jerk, Smolder’s chin touched Buck’s balls. Scootaloo covered her mouth, trying to hold back her own excited squeals. Her fingers slicked messily as Smolder’s eyes turned up to Buck with glee.

A low growl rumbled Buck’s cock in the depths of Smolder’s throat. She lifted her head slightly with a gurgling gag, and Buck pushed it back down.

“Uh-uh. You know what to do. Watch the teeth now…” Buck said.

“Uurghh…!” Smolder answered, nodding. Her nod became a short, quick bounce, her lips sliding along the base of Buck’s cock. Each deep tug of Smolder’s throat brought the outline of her draconic features further into focus. Soon, curving horns sprouted from her head, and long, leathery wings fluttered from her back.

“That’s it…that’s it…! Just like that…!” Buck groaned. “Uh, Smolder, you’re gettin’ a little…?”

Smolder let go of Buck’s cock, and it sat on her coiling tongue between rows of her sharp gator teeth. Her breath sparked the air and her eyes glowed with a burning lust.

For a moment, Buck thought she’d bite his dick off, but she took his hands and placed them on her horns. She didn’t seem to have words anymore, just a panting growl.

“Yeah?” Buck said.

Smolder went down again, and Buck’s cock head met a deliriously hot pleasure in her serpentine throat.

“Fuck yeah!” Buck said, and now he got to his feet, yanking Smolder’s horns like a bike’s handlebars.

Smolder’s eyes turned up in her head as Buck used her as a living glory hole. Over and over, his thick purple cock retreated almost all the way out of Smolder’s mouth before he slammed her back down onto it in a frantic rhythm.

Smolder grabbed his hips, growling hungrily as he aggressively swabbed her throat. There was a gleeful smugness in the way she looked up at his screwed, ecstatic expression, but then her reptilian eye just happened to drift over. It narrowed into a slit as Smolder spotted Scootaloo shlicking herself silly from behind the arm of the couch.

Scootaloo froze like a rabbit in a foxes’ glare. Smolder grinned around Buck’s cock, and took him in deeper. She maintained that side eye, even as Buck slammed his hips into her lips, even as Smolder’s spittle dribbled down her chin and even as Buck finally blew a hot, squirting load down her gullet.

Buck groaned, then nearly roared as Smolder grabbed his ass and pressed down, squeezing his cock as deep as it could go in her throat with a gurgling grunt. Buck’s balls twitched, dripping spit and jizz until at last he tapped Smolder’s head and she let his cock flop wetly out of her mouth like a spent fire hose.

Scootaloo slowly slunk back. The sight of Buck dislodging his cock from Smolder’s throat just to pump out another spurt of cum onto her tongue disappeared as she tried to make herself as small as possible behind the couch.

“…I really, really needed that.” Buck sighed.

There was a loud gulp, and then Smolder sighed.

“Yeah, no shit. Thought I was gonna drown for a second, you ass!” Smolder laughed. “Okay, my turn!”

Scootaloo thought then that she should run; just make a break for the balcony while they were making small talk.

“Right, right. Let me get you something to wipe off with. I keep the lube in the bedroom.” Buck said.

“Oh, in the bedroom? We’re going into the bedroom next?” Smolder said, with a bit of emphasis.

“Yeah. Goan, get on the bed. I’ll be right with you.”

Scootaloo ran for the bedroom. She flopped into Buck’s closet and shut the doors; spying through the tiniest sliver of space between them.

Smolder strode in front of the bed, right into Scootaloo’s line of sight, and made a show of stripping; bending low with her ass up in the air. There was a sheer outline of her jean shorts across her naked cheeks; her legs were a much darker orange below the mid-thigh. Then she turned toward the closet and tugged her lacy black top over her head, letting her breasts flop out. Her draconic features had disappeared in a blink, but the lecherous reptilian gaze remained as she sat on the edge of the bed, legs splayed open.

“You know…I bet he wouldn’t mind if you joined in, squirt.” Smolder said.

Scootaloo didn’t dare move. She couldn’t.

“You say somethin’?” Buck said, coming into view. He squeezed some clear liquid into his palm from a little bottle before getting on his knees.

“Yeah, I was sayin’ you’re just as much of a quick shot as ever!” Smolder said, sticking out her tongue.

“You know, you looked real cute with a mouth full of cum.” Buck said, kneeling down to his knees.

“...hey!” Smolder said.

“And you always make the girliest noises when I do this to you. Try and keep it down, yeah?” Buck said. “Thin walls, and all.”

Smolders leg came up to rest on Buck’s shoulder. There was a hitch in her breath as Buck’s hand came up between her legs.

“Ugh, just shut up and suck my clit.” Smolder said.

“Say please.” Buck said. His fingertips caressed Smolder’s thin, quivering lips. She shuddered.

“Fuck you…!” Smolder said.

“You’re gonna like this next one. It’s a similar idea to the dick-flavoring spell, but a little different…” Buck said.

“Different how?” Smolder said.

Buck held up a hand, spreading his fingers wide.

“Shazam.” Buck said, and his four fingers glowed with a soft red light. Scootaloo saw a slight shimmer around them, like the mirage over a heat lamp.

Buck traced his index and pointer fingers along Smolder’s outer vulva.

“What did you…? Ohhh…oh, that’s…that’s…!” Smolder moaned.

“Warm? Yeah…like a heating pad. Feels good, yeah?” Buck said.

“It’s so hot and…t…tingly…!” Smolder gasped.

“Ooh. You’re soaked, and I’ve barely even gotten started.” Buck said, spreading Smolder’s lips. His fore and index fingers flexed downward, brushing against Smolder’s sensitive lower hole. “You want it, yeah? You want me to do that thing you always used to beg me for?”

“Eep!” Smolder said. “I-I never begged, you dick!”

“Oh, but you’re gonna. Say; “Please stick your fingers in me and fuck me up!” Buck said.

Another shudder as Buck squeezed more lube onto Smolder’s snatch. Buck’s index and forefinger swirled slowly around her drooling opening, while his ring and pinky fingers prodded at her ass. Scootaloo could see Smolder’s toes curling over Buck’s shoulder.

“....please…?” Smolder gasped.

“Please what?” Buck said.

Scootaloo found her breath getting short as the cool older girl gasped and melted under Buck’s attention.

“Please…stickyourfingersinmyholesandfuckmeup…!”

“Adorable.” Buck said.

Scootaloo saw Buck’s arm tense, and then slam forward.

“Shut the fuck uh-haagh! Huughhh…” Smolder’s protestations melted into a groan as Buck’s fingers slipped into her holes with a wet plop, then out again in that same slow pattern as before.

“Now sing for me.” Buck said, and he dove down to lap at Smolder’s clitoris.

There was a sound from next door; a sound Ditzy Doo had come to dread. She couldn’t be sure of it; there were walls between here and there, but Ditzy could swear she’d heard a distant moan coming from Buck’s apartment. Almost by instinct, Ditzy Doo sat up and listened intently. There was a thud on the roof.

“Yeesh. The squirrels around here are getting bigger every year.” Ditzy said.

It wasn’t the time to think about him, nor was it time to figure that situation out. Right now, it was Ditzy’s time. She was done lathering, and had settled back into a luxurious soak. With one hand, she flipped back to where she was in Pride and Prejudice, and found herself quickly coasting back into a nice night.

Ditzy stooped over the edge of the bath to scoop up another muffin, just as something thin and dark whipped at her head, missing entirely. She lifted the muffin to her lips, and the long, shadowy tendril just missed grabbing her arm. She sunk down into the bath and unwittingly avoided a lash at her throat.

If plants could feel frustration, the thorny vines invading Ditzy’s bathroom would be swearing up a storm. As they were, all they could do was creep up the edge of Ditzy’s bathtub slowly, just out of her line of sight. As they reared up like the claws of some terrible beast behind Ditzy’s head, she suddenly caught a glimpse of an undulating spiky shadow on the wall with her off eye.

Ditzy didn’t have time to fight back. She didn’t have time to run. But thanks to her odd vision cone, she had just a moment to scream and flop in the bath as the vines entangled her, their brambles ripping into her exposed skin. There was thudding splash as she was ripped out of the tub, across the tiled floor, and toward the window.

“HELP! HELP ME!” Ditzy screamed.

Sweetie Drops had one goal; buy some time while she waited for someone; anyone better equipped to handle this monster. She clicked a hidden button on her belt, and the black chord of her grappling hook locked with a small click.

“You may as well give in. I’m not letting you terrorize these people.” Sweetie Drops said.

The cloaked figure thrashed on the other end of the line. Tendrils of spiky black vines whipped out of its sleeve, trying to rake Sweetie Drops bloody, but she was too quick on the draw. Before the thorns could rip into her, Sweetie Drops pressed her taser to the chord of her grappling hook and held down the trigger.

The cloak danced on the end of the line like a hooked fish as 1000 volts blasted through its body. A smell of burning flowers and firewood spread through the night.

“If I’m lucky, I can just run interference until I get a little help…” Sweetie Drops muttered.

The figure shuffled its body in an odd contortion beneath the cloak, and suddenly Sweetie Drop’s line went slack.

“When have I ever been lucky?” Sweetie Drops said.

The cloak charged forward, and now Sweetie Drops ducked and dodged and tried desperately to avoid getting shredded by the fracking vines whizzing around like slashed live wires.

Blood splattered onto the wet roof tiles. A brutally painful lash ripped open Sweetie Drop’s back, but she bit down on her tongue. This was a residential area, and she was without her best clean-up tool. She’d need to rely on the others.

Another swat of Sweetie Drop’s baton, then another and another missed. The cloak was weaving about like a cobra, its body seeming paper-like beneath the shroud.

“God…damn it…I just…need…a win!” Sweetie Drops grunted.

A large black bulb rose behind Sweetie Drop’s back. It made a soft chirping sound, like morning birds, but it went entirely unnoticed as Sweetie Drops and the cloak brawled. A swift duck around the baton by the cloak was met by a kick to the face, knocking back its hood.

“Who are you?” Sweetie Drops said.

“You’ll never break even like that. Not even close.” The cloak said.

A sick-smelling blue nectar dripped onto Sweetie Drops’ shoulder.

“What in the world?” Sweetie Drops said, turning around.

A flower bloomed. A strange, crab-like flower with sharp, twitching fronds and a bright blue center unfolded before Sweetie Drops’ eyes, and then it exhaled a ghastly cloud of blue pollen in her face.

“I won’t let you get…won’t let…you…” Sweetie Drops droned, before flopping face down onto the roof. Out cold.

“Pathetic.” The cloak said. “At the very least, we may have a use for you.”

Vines wrapped around Sweetie Drops’ limp form and slowly pulled her from the roof and into the foggy woods behind the apartment.

Meanwhile, a few feet down, Smolder covered her mouth with one hand, while the other dug into the sheets. It was happening again; Smolder’s hands were turning into reptilian claws. There was a bit of a rainbow spark flittering between her and Buck’s entangled forms. Words were escaping her at the moment as Buck rolled his digits inside her openings while his tongue swirled around her clitoris. Every time he prodded upward, she lost her breath to a shuddering groan.

“Cuh….cumming again…!” Smolder squealed.

“Damn, you're on…what’s that, number three? It hasn’t even been a minute!” Buck chuckled.

“You…you…!” Smolder simpered.

“Yeah. I missed you too. Hot enough for ya? You’re really clampin’ down, you know?” Buck said, and his pistoning arm got a bit faster.

Scootaloo watched from the closet, rubbing her clit so hard it almost hurt, when the steamy scene before her came to a screeching halt. There was a scream from next door, and a thudding noise.

“Ditzy? Ditzy!” Buck said, slipping his fingers out of Smolder’s puckering holes.

“Ahh…OW! ASSHOLE!” Smolder screeched.

Buck was already in the bathroom. Scootaloo heard the faucet running.

“Sorry!” Buck called.

“Is he…washing his hands?” Scootaloo whispered.

“It’s Ditzy!” Buck said, moving quickly from the bathroom and through the bedroom. Scootaloo ducked into the far side of the closet as Buck reached around for an over shirt.

“What? What are you talking about? That could be anyone!” Smolder said. She had a hand over her snatch, her legs turned in with a sudden bashfulness. Her draconic appearance had gone.

“No, I know the sound of Ditzy falling down. Something happened!” Buck said, and then he was out of the bedroom and out of Scootaloo’s earshot.

“Buck, wait–where are you going?” Smolder said, waddling after him.

“Gotta check. She could be hurt!” Buck said, putting on his pink, fuzzy slippers.

“Even after she came in here and screamed at you?” Smolder said.

“Oh, have a heart! It might be an emergency!” Buck said, and without another word, he was out the door, leaving Smolder alone in his apartment.

She stood there stammering for a half-second, then her shoulders dropped.

“Hey, stalker girl. You gonna come out of the closet, or am I draggin’ you?” Smolder sighed.

The closet doors creaked. Scootaloo tumbled out, looking like she’d just escaped a prison sentence in a bouncy castle.

“I’m bisexual actually, so I sorta already came out-”

“Go help the dingus. Could be some more magical bullshit.” Smolder said, reaching for her pants.

“...you’re not mad at me?” Scootaloo said.

“GO.” Smolder growled.

“Okay!” Scootaloo said, halfway out the door.

“...unbelievable.” Smolder said.

Terror. Pure panic clawed at every inch of Ditzy’s skin in the form of a thousand sharp nettles. Ditzy Doo had gotten strong since the last time some magical malady befell her. She’d built a life. A home. A family. And she’d grown in a million million little ways. A despite all that work, all those sleepless nights, all the training and the therapy, here she was again.

Helpless.

Thorny vines pinned her left arm painfully to her side as they dragged her splashing and gasping from the hot bath water.

The vines burst out of the flower pots on the sill, retreating into the folds of the cloak as they raked Ditzy across the floor. Her free arm flopped, trying to gain purchase on the edge of the tub, then the base of the sink, then the edge of the toilet’s lid as the vines ripped her out of her comfortable life. She felt them ripping little bloody trails across her skin, snaking up her legs and into her mouth. She couldn’t even scream anymore; she feared the thorns would reach down and pull her stomach out of her mouth.

While Ditzy’s eye wheeled around, trying to find any sort of escape, she spied a dark figure just outside her second floor window. The hood had come down, revealing a disturbingly familiar face.

It was Carrot Top. Carrot Top, who had a cute little produce stall at the farmer’s market. Carrot Top, who had once, only once, snuck off to a party when she should have been watching Dinky. Carrot Top, who had once argued that carrot cake muffins were completely unmatched in terms of flavor.

Carrot Top lurked in the dark just outside Ditzy’s window, her face frozen in a peculiar smile. A bouquet of colorful flowers bloomed where the left half of her face should have been.

“Carrot Top…why?” Ditzy wheezed.

“Daddy’s home. He wants to see you again. Wants to meet his new daughter.” Carrot Top said. The smile did not budge an inch.

Ditzy’s irises shrunk into tiny pinpricks. Carrot Top retreated into the darkness, and Ditzy did everything she could to hang on to her bathroom window frame with her fingernails. She was past tears and screams. There was nothing left in her but a thrashing, desperate struggle to survive. And that’s when she saw him.

Buck burst through the door, coming to help her like he always did. But it wasn’t her Buck. He was in nothing but pajamas, and his eyes were full of flame. There was a stubby purple horn coming from the side of his head, and his hands were balled into fists. And perhaps for the first time, Ditzy was relieved to see the strange, magical creature he was becoming. He might, at last, be able to save her.

“Let her go! Ditzy! DITZY!” Buck said, running full tilt.

Ditzy Doo reached for him, reached for the man she loved and feared, and felt the brush of his fingertips just before she was dragged out into the night.

“BUCK!” Ditzy gagged, and then she was gone into the trees behind the apartment. Lost in the foggy night.

“DITZY DOO!” Buck screamed.

The bathroom shook. Red flames licked at the walls and shower curtain. The door creaked open, and Buck turned to it with an expression of pure hell on his face. His eyes were red; it wasn't clear if it was magic or the fact that he was blitzed out of his mind on poison and herbs, but his muscles contracted in thick knots, reading to lash out at the next interloper to disrupt his night.

“...Buck?” Scootaloo said.

“Oh, Scoots! Thank fuck you’re here!” Buck said, once again himself.

“Buck, you’ve got a…horn?” Scootaloo said.

“No time to talk! Ditzy’s in trouble. We need, I need…shit, uh, go get my shoes, a shirt and some sweatpants. We’re going after her!” Buck said.

“Okay, cool!” Scootaloo said. She was blushing brightly in the face of Buck’s commanding presence. As she headed out the door, Buck stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“And Scoots?” Buck said.

“Yeah, Buck?” Scootaloo said.

“Get Marianne.” Buck said.

“Uh…who?” Scootaloo said.

Author's Note

Song Review: On Melancholy Hill is the closest thing to a pop song on Gorillaz's hyper-ambitious album; Plastic Beach. Right in the middle of an album all about humanity's impact on the world and the creeping influence of technology in our lives comes a mournful, saccharine tune about a grimy relationship between two depressed people.

In a way, the song romanticizes the process of falling into the arms of someone just as sad as you are for comfort. It is the acquiescence of searching for something better and simply coasting along in the arms of a partner that holds you tight rather than lifting you up. I'm it sound cruel and toxic, but that's only because I've been here before.

There couldn't be a better tune for a chapter about falling prey to old creature comforts.

The lines "Where you can't get what you want, but you can get me." and "'Cause you are my medicine when you're close to me." tug especially hard on the heartstrings. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is sit and reckon with what's happening. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is the easy thing.

And speaking of doing the easy thing, I cut the drafting process for this chapter in half. This was an act of mercy on myself, as the following events are going to be messy and chaotic, and I'm making an effort not to overload myself by going for shorter, snappier chapters. As a result, the chapter came together pretty quickly, with little in the way of harsh edits. We're hitting another hiatus, I'm sorry to say, as I'm giving myself three months to complete the second draft of my novel.

In the meantime, you can expect to hear from me in the form of blog posts, where my rambling will bring to light the various design choices I've made in writing this massive porno that you know and love. I hope to see you all there!