Chapter Text
Velma Dinkley has never liked Marcie Fleach.
How can she, really? They’re academic rivals—enemies, more like—and long-standing ones at that, having fought and argued and spat over even the most basic of issues. It’s anger that spurs them towards each other—venom coating every word and action they take, all in the name of spite. Every time Velma sees Marcie’s face it’s always heated frustration that clouds her mind—mostly at Marcie for a whole variety of reasons but also maybe a little at herself, because while she’d never admit it out loud Marcie is actually on par with Velma intelligence-wise. She might actually be even smarter than Velma—and Velma’s clenching her hands into fists because fuck, she loathes that thought with a passion.
But as much as Velma wants to discard that thought entirely, she can’t help but give credit where credit is due. Marcie’s project for this year’s science fair is astoundingly good, enough so that Velma’s seething at the very thought of losing to her. What’s even more is the fact that it’s the different behaviors of light waves, a topic Velma doesn’t know very much about. It has Velma gritting her teeth as heat simmers deep in her stomach just glancing in Marcie’s direction.
“Scared I’ll beat you this year?”
“As if,” Velma snorts.
Liar.
In all honesty? Velma’s terrified. She’s more than familiar with this feeling—scared of not being good enough, of whatever monster they’re facing that week, of failure—but it’s never been this paralyzing. Marcie’s grinning knowingly—arrogantly—and the worst part is, Velma can’t even blame her for it because that exact smug confidence is one she knows far too well.
She can only imagine the satisfaction Marcie would experience if Velma were to lose to her. Marcie certainly wouldn’t let her forget it for years to come, even if Velma were to beat her in the following year—Velma had, after all, spent years upon years gloating in the other girl’s face whenever she had the chance. The thought of that irritates Velma enough that she stands firm, teeth grit as she mentally prepares herself for what’s to come.
“We’ll see about that,” Marcie says, smirk unwavering.
“You’ve never beaten me before,” Velma retorts, crossing her arms, “and you’re certainly not going to beat me now.”
“We’ll see about that,” Marcie repeats nonchalantly, walking away before Velma can even open her mouth to respond. And now Velma’s even more pissed off, because how the hell is it so easy for the other girl to get under her skin?
Maybe, in some other universe, Velma and Marcie are best friends. On paper, Velma thinks it could work—they’re certainly similar enough, with similar interests and opinions. Maybe, in that universe, they win together. But Velma lives in a universe where Marcie actively uses these things against her—where Marcie dangles her every need and want directly out of reach, close enough to see but far enough away to make Velma fight her tooth and nail for it. She lives here, where she defeats Marcie again—where the relief crashes through her so violently she has to clutch the table for dear life for a moment, staring up at the stage with wide eyes.
And as Velma holds up the blue ribbon with a victorious grin, it almost feels like triumphant vindication.
Almost.
But when Marcie—Hot Dog Water—turns towards her, eyes blazing with anger and something she’s not quite able to interpret, Velma knows it’s far from over. They’re still locked in an endless battle, one where neither will ever concede—and Velma laughs humorlessly at herself for considering any other outcome.
Velma lives here, in this universe, where she seemingly has no choice but to be Marcie’s enemy—having locked her own fate years ago when they first met.
Maybe, no matter the circumstances, they’re destined to struggle against each other in every universe.
Do you think there’s a universe where we don’t detest each other so profusely?
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Velma just… killed someone.
Multiple ‘someone’s.
This… isn’t how she wanted this to go. For any of this to go. They were hunting her, for something she doesn’t even really know how they’d caught wind of to begin with, and now they were dead and she’s clutching her arms, her entire body trembling with a mixture of adrenaline and fear as she takes a step back, then another, then another. She doesn’t even know how her assailants died—one moment she was pleading for her life, and the next they were all violently bleeding out at Velma’s feet.
“For me?” a voice taunts mockingly behind her. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I already told you,” Velma says angrily, whipping around. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“That’s hurtful,” the she-demon replies, sounding anything but hurt. “I save your life and this is how you repay me?
“I never asked to be saved,” Velma hisses. “All I wanted was to save my friends.”
“And didn’t I grant you that, too?”
She did. She did, and that’s what Velma hates the most—that Marcie had given the power to save them, had even allowed her to keep it—but Velma was now bound to the she-demon’s will. She hadn’t seen her friends since—she couldn’t let them see her like this, even if she wanted, and after this display she knows she can’t ever see them again. Not willingly, at least. Not until they’re ready.
Fuck. She’d made one desperate wish in the heat of battle and it’d been answered by the worst of creatures. Now she’s nothing but a pebble in a landslide, tumbling ever downwards, with what little control of her life she did have now surrendered to something that will undoubtedly destroy it.
“Even for you,” Velma spits out instead, “this is tasteless. Forcing my hand—”
“I didn’t force you to do anything.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Humanity,” Marcie says, coating the word with enough venom that it makes Velma a little nauseous, “is its own worst downfall. Why should I put in the effort when you’ll self-destruct all the same?”
That, Velma supposes, is true—but it doesn’t stop her from standing up straight all the same and jabbing a finger in Marcie’s direction accusingly, eyes blazing as frustration and determination alike surge up towards her chest.
“I’m different,” Velma retorts. “Just you wait. Not all humans are like that and I’ll prove you wrong.”
“Oh, that’s adorable,” Marcie comments in a sickeningly sweet voice. “You think you have a choice in this matter. Just look at what you’ve done already.”
Velma doesn’t look. “That wasn’t me.”
“Denial. Cute.” Marcie laughs then, leaning right into Velma’s personal space. “Regardless, I’ll enjoy watching you fail. Just as you failed your friends all those years ago.”
Velma doesn’t get the chance to say anything else—she can only watch, with balled-up fists and a jaw clenched so hard she’s beginning to get a migraine, as Marcie bursts into flames right in front of her and disappears. And when she’s confirmed that the Dark Lilith’s presence is truly gone, she can only drop onto her knees and wail.
Why couldn’t she just have used her instead? All she fucking wanted, more than anything in the world, was to be happy—and the demon had dangled that in front of her before ripping it away violently.
She sinks down and sobs, mentally cursing Marcie for trapping her into a hell of her own making—because deep down, she knows the demon is right. It’s only a matter of time before she’s hunted down or lets her own inner demons take over and in the end all the actual, physical demon had to do was answer her desperate plea for help. She’s fighting a losing battle, her energy sapping away with every ticking moment—and fuck you, Velma thinks vaguely, hands gripping the grass beneath her as the hole in her stomach grows ever larger, I haven’t given up yet. Not yet.
Her time is running out. She hates that she won’t be the one to defeat Marcie—but deep down she knows her friends are out there still, searching. She only needs to hold on long enough for her friends to arrive. And when the Dark Lilith is finally struck down, Velma will be there to watch in her final act of defiance. And then Velma herself will be gone too, fading into nothing but a bad memory.
Maybe, in some other universe, they are something more. Maybe, in some other universe, they become something better.
Whatever that universe is, it's decidedly not the one they're in now.
Or is blind hatred all we see in each other?