#active partition manager

[zaiixoxoo]

Pairing: HoodShurixFemReader. {Pt 2}

Warnings: Or@l sex, Praising, Degrading, Biting, Use of !Str@p, Blood drinking, Violence, Dirty Talk, “Princess, Baby, good girl, her Mamas, her Baby.” kinks, etc.

Background: The sun had already sunk into the horizon, leaving the sky a mixture of dark blue and black, with stars that twinkled softly above. The neighborhood was pretty active on a Friday night, with people making plans, going out, and just enjoying themselves in general. You were hella Lonely, bored. Why not go out? Enjoy yourself, go wild, get all drunk, maybe you’ll even find a pleaser.

@shurismainbxtch @shurislover @shurisbathwater @shuriszn @axailslink @prettymrswright @inmyheadimobsessed @ihearttish @babyboiboyega @bbbbbbrilliantly @desswright29 @gweelczz @kisskourt @sapphicvqmpires @lesbianlores @damisarki

One week later, after you and Shuri’s encounter, you found yourself avoiding her and you blocked her number AND deleted her contact. It was supposed to be a one night stand… right? but As you were out and about, it did not take long for Shuri to find you. Despite the three days you had spent trying to avoid her, Shuri had eyes everywhere. Whether it be on the street, where her men would keep her informed, or at your home—She saw everything and everyone. For as much as you tried, it was not easy to avoid her.

So imagine your surprise with how easily she managed to get to you.

It was Around 12:00 am at night, and You had just finished running errands, and Also being over another Nigga’s house. You smelled Exactly like his ass too. but Sadly, you were too damn high from the blunt you had just smoked a few minutes ago, not even knowing you smelled like another man.

He was a average lookin’ nigga too, his name was Naveen and he gave good head, but that Dick size was a hell to the no. Y’know, Naveen from princess and the frog? Yeah, real cute. But damn, what the fuck will Shuri think about the fact that you just been just giving yo’ shit away to some average ass nigga? She ain’t taking THAT news too well. Especially when she was the one having you all whiny and begging to be taken care of.

You were too lost in thought, to even see that She had been patient, waiting in the dark on your couch, since the moment you had walked through the door. She knew about your tryst with another man, and it only made her grow even more possessive than she had been before. She was ready to pounce, just waiting for the right chance to get you alone.

And now that time had come.

“I don’t appreciate you smellin’ like another man Mama. you know that though right?.”

Shuri’s voice rang out, cutting through the silence without hesitation. She didn’t bother standing, choosing to remain seated as if it were her throne. Her arm was sprawled out along the back of the couch, an aura of dominance radiating from her with ease.

It was the fact you had the Audacity to dress up for His ass. Your outfit, a dark blue velvet number, was anything but modest. The short dress clung lovingly to your curves, emphasizing your ample assets and leaving little to the imagination. Every movement you made seemed to ripple through the fabric, making the jewels on your nails glitter in the light.

Your hair framed your face in a way that perfectly accentuated your natural beauty. The honey brown tresses were wavy, with a loose pattern that seemed to caress your face. Long and flowing, the ends rested gently just above your shoulders, their weight adding to the air of seduction and mystery that enveloped you.

The air seemed to thicken with the scent of your perfume, a perfect blend of vanilla and coco butter that was enough to leave anyone intoxicated by your presence.

Shuri loved how you Looked, but the fact that it was for him pissed her off.

Your head snapped at the voice, seeing the dark figure sitting in your couch, with a bottle of Hennessy in their hand.

She brought one arm out to gesture to your figure. That same hand lifted the bottle of Hennessy to her lips, taking another slow sip before lowering it back to the couch.

“You been ghostin’ me Mama.”

She accused, giving you a glare as she put the blunt aside and turned her body slightly towards you. Even then, there was no mistaking the tone in her voice. You could hear the thinly veiled possessiveness laced through it.

“Don’t you know that you belong to me? Well I thought you did Mami, but you hurt my soul givin’ my Pussy to some other Nigga, and dressing so fucking Pretty for em’. Naveen is it?”

You knew She was making fun of Naveen, and hated every second of it.

“First off, how the FUCK did you get into my Shit? And No, I don’t belong to you Shuri it was just a One time thing okay? I was needy.. and horny. I didn’t think you would take this shit seriously.. and how the fuck do you know I’ve been with another man?” You asked arching a eyebrow.

Shuri just laughed softly, because your tone was hella outta line, and because she trying to be nice and hold back her anger.

“Who are you talking to Mama? Don’t you remember who had you moaning my name? Don’t you remember who had you acting like the needy Slut you are? Let’s not forget how you had your legs wide open like a messy fucking whore for me Sithanwa Sam.”

You wanted to open your mouth to speak, to oblige, to back yourself up, but the words died in your throat because it was True.

But when She got up to turn that light on, WHEW.. you almost lost your damn mind at how good she looked.

As she stood before you, the light illuminating her features, you couldn't help but gasp at the sight.

Her scalp braids were styled back into a neat bun, adorned with a single gold ring. The fang grills in her mouth glistened as she spoke or smiled, adding an enigmatic edge to her sharp features. Her eyes, red irises surrounded by a deep crimson, were captivating in their intensity. Her nose piercing and the fresh Xhosa tattoos on her hands only added to her edgy allure.

She was a vision of both beauty and power, her entire aura radiating a magnetic charisma that was impossible to ignore. She moved with confidence and assurance, her presence filling the room and demanding your attention.

Even with her simple outfit of a Black hoodie, black sweats, and black and white Nike dunks, she still managed to look like a Fine ass Woman.

The Hennessy bottle hung loosely from her fingertips, an accessory to her overall look. She took another slow sip, her lips curving into a smile that revealed the gleam of her fang grills.

She was perfection in every sense of the word, a true force to be reckoned with.

“Shuri look, what me and you had was a one time thing, we ain’t a thing Shuri. Please leave my damn house and leave me alone.”

You tried to make it sound like a demand but it really sounded timid, which made Shuri crack a small smirk.

“You seem a lil scared to get me outta yo’ house Mamas. You scared I’m gon’ do sumn’ to you?”

Shuri’s smirk faded as she Went back to being serious.

“You think I don’t see how easy you give yourself away Umntwana?”

She took a slow drag from her blunt, inhaling the smoke and holding it in for a moment before blowing it out with a sigh. Her eyes were on you, not at all leaving your figure in spite of the lingering tension in the air.

“What are you saying? I’m a hoe or sumn?! Well I can do whatever the fuck I want to. you ain’t nobody to be worrying about who the fuck I’m with and that Concludes Naveen.” You snarled sternly.

Her lip twitched to a smirk in the dim light, a flicker of mockery flashing across her face. She stood from her spot on the couch, moving towards you with slow and calculated strides.

“That’s where you hella wrong, babygirl. And who said you was a hoe Mamas? Pfft… anyway, The only thing that nigga can give you is head, but I bet he can’t Pound and abuse that Pretty Pussy with his so called “Big dick” that’s the size of a fucking baby carrot can he Mami?”

Damn! his shit wasn’t what he said it was, it was about 5-6 inches. but damn? how the fuck does SHE know that?!

“No! It’s actually 10 inches long! His dick is the most amazing thing in this fucking world actually! You wouldn’t know since you don’t have one!” You snapped at her, your voice filled with annoyance and frustration.

You were lying like a fool. he couldn’t even fuck you right, he fucked like a disabled ass dog that’s humping their pillow trying to seek friction or some shit. you felt like a damn fool tryna argue with her over dick sizes when she already knew about the size.

Shuri looked at you crazy, and burst out laughing in your face like you were a damn clown. Well, you felt like one at that moment because you and her both KNEW that his dick was literally the size of a baby carrot and he couldn’t give back strokes even if it was to save his damn life.

“Oh shit! you are fucking hilarious Usana, You got a muthafucka in here crying!”

Hell, You actually wanted to cry at the fact that she KNEW you was lying.

Shuri continued to laugh in your face, holding her stomach as tears streamed down her face. Aight now, she getting too carried away with the shit. It ain’t that damn funny for you to be holdin’ ya stomach.

“Imma hold yo’ hand when I say this, but Mama.. you know damn well he doesn’t Have the biggest dick in the world. Hell, couldn’t even fit in a condom if you ask me, but that’s just my personal opinion. If you like average lookin’ lil dick boys, then hey? It ain’t my business but I know everything bout lil ole Naveen. Bet he thinkin’ he fucked you so good didn’t he Mama? You know you ain’t enjoy that trash ass shit.”

“Fuck off, what the fuck do you even want hm? You just come here, all mysterious n’ shit tryna tell me that I’m yours all that bull fuckery. Then, you just teasing me about a man’s Dick size like it fucking matters!” You said snarling in frustration.

You knew damn well it did matter, but you didn’t wanna let Shuri know and give her the satisfaction that she wants do you?

“Mama, I really want you to be my Baby. if you don’t wanna be mine then Okay, cool. Go be with Naveen ugly ass, he bout the most average nigga I ever seen anyways. That sex game he be flexin’ ain’t good and you know it ain’t Ma, but if that’s how you wanna live.. all unsatisfied and needy, so horny, wanting someone to Keep that Pussy smiling, then okay.”

“And then you don’t know what you missin’ out on Baby. You can be my Woman, my baby, my sweetheart.. we don’t gotta be fuck buddies, when you can be Mine. But, sadly it seems like you just wanna go keep looking for someone to satisfy your needs when you can just come to me… every. damn. time. You’re Horny, needy, and wanting to be loved by someone. And I’ll treat you like a princess you are Mama, but only if you’d just let me. Hell, I’ll give you a good time right now if you let me…”

“Stop tryna manipulate me into wanting you..” you shakily replied trying to look away.

“Just.. leave…. the shit ain’t gon work anyways.” you whispered, crossing your arms.

“Aight then Umntwana, I’m gone.”

Shuri turned on her heel, and walked towards the door, but you couldn’t STAND to see her fine ass leave you.. were you THAT desperate for her? The things that she said about you being her woman, do you want that to happen? Do you need her that badly?

“Nah, w-wait.. don’t leave.” You mumbled under your breath.

Shuri turn her head slowly, looking at you with that same teasing smirk.

“Yes Mama? What is it Baby?”

“You can’t just leave..”

Her tone was soft and velvety, filled with hidden desire and longing.

"Missing me, Already baby girl?"

You nod your head slowly, not even giving a fuck about hiding the fact that you really want her to stay. You could never let her leave, ever.. Not when you desire her love.

And she desired your affection too.

She felt it deep in her bones—this undeniable desire and hunger that burned within her every time she was near you. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew that she needed you. She needed your touch, your scent, your voice...

She didn’t care about your reasons for ghosting her. All she cared about was having you back in her arms and in her bed.

She was becoming lost in her thoughts, her mind consumed with nothing but thoughts of you and the things she wanted to do to you.

She could barely control the urges that burned within, everything about you had her hungry—needy. All she needed was you now.

"You gon’ keep playin’ games with me? Or lemme love and take care of you?” she asked, her voice laced with playful teasing, but a bit of seriousness.

“Mhm..” you mumbled trying to act as if her hands on your ass ain’t affecting you.

“Mmm aight.. can I tell you sumn though?” She asked now looking down at you.

Those fucking red irises.. and those low high eyes always get to you…

“Wassup..?” You asked arching your eyebrow.

The sudden contact of her lips against yours sent a shock through your body. It was like an explosion, a burst of something powerful and possessive. She deepened the kiss, her hands finding purchase on your hips, as she pulled you closer to her.

Her hunger for you surged through her. She kissed you like a starving woman, her lips slanting against yours, her tongue seeking entry past your lips, desperate to taste you, to claim every inch of you as her own.

Shuri’s hands roamed your body, possessive and claiming. She wanted to feel every inch of you, to remind herself why she craved you so badly. The more of you she touched, the more she needed.

There was no denying the raw hunger in her voice. She needed you—in all the primal ways. She couldn’t deny her instincts, her need to possess you and make you hers completely. She craved your touch, your taste, your very existence. Everything about you was intoxicating.

“Mmmh.. I’d give you what you been wantin’ but no, you pissed me off tonight. Dressin all for Naveen two faced ass.. looking all pretty n’ shit. Why though? Just so he can fuck you terribly?”

A/n: True, True.. you betta pray girl, cuz she bouta’ fuck you upppp 😭😭.

Damn, you thought you were off the hook for the night, but Fuck that, Shuri ain’t finna let that shit slide like it was nothing.

She took another drink before setting the bottle down.

“Sit yo pretty ass down.”

It was a demand, not a suggestion.

Oh how you wanted to listen so badly, but you absolutely loved pissing Shuri off.

“You do realize I don’t gotta do shit you say right?” You said shrugging, while looking down and your Long blue acrylics nonchalantly.

Shuri was done.

Without an immediate response, the hand that was around your throat tightened. There was no mistaking the feeling of her rings against your skin but the pressure was not so hard that it would hurt.

“Strip right here, right now. in yo’ muthafuckin’ living room and don’t make me say that shit again Ma.” She commanded, her voice smooth as ever.

You stared at her, Too stunned to speak, too scared to be defiant. Because you knew that if you did, she was gon’ handle that ass and make it very unpleasant.

Shuri cocked her head to the side, her red irises Narrowing at you, daring you to oblige.

“ lmma strip..” you whispered softly, as you start to strip off your dress.

Shuri watched you, as she leaned back on the couch manspreading before you.

“And I mean Everything. Including them lil underwear and bra too love.” She added, smirking mischievously.

When you were undressed, your naked breasts were revealed within the naked eye, along with your Laced black underwear.

But Shuri absolutely fucking loved, your pretty stretch marks. To her, they showed how thick you were.

She peered at you, her eyes trailing over your naked chest, her eyes drawn to the black lace of your underwear as you moved to remove that too, slowly.

Your bare pussy was now at view. Glistening and very wet, ready to be touched by her.

You felt a little bit insecure about your stretch marks, but Shuri just scoffed and looked at you with an annoyed expression.

She peered at you, her head inclined at the expression on your face.

"Baby girl, you listen to me when I say this now."

She murmured, her hands moving to your hips.

"I don't care. In fact the stretch marks are sexy as hell."

She pulled you forward, her hands going to your ass, but they got lost in the thickness of it.

"Baby girl, all this ass… all this thickness.. just makes me wanna fuck the shit outta you Mama. You know that don’t you Umntwana?”

You nod, your expression giving off how needy you were for her. The way she looked at you made your Pussy so wet.

Shuri pulled you on her lap, your bare ass on her leg and your pussy scraping her knee causing you to whimper softly.

Shuri smirked, bouncing her knee purposefully trying to tease and make you even more aroused for her.

“Shuri please stop playin.. I want you love.. can’t you feel the dampening of my pussy on your knee..?” You said whining like a baby.

“I know usana, but the fact you tried to play with me got me wanting to punish that ass. So with that, do me a favor and stop whinin’ like a baby and keep grindin that pretty Pussy on my knee yeah?” She chuckled, massaging your titties with her slender fingers.

You whined louder, causing a sharp smack to your thigh.

“Aye, what I just tell you Mama? You so disobedient… you really be wanting me to be rough wit you, don’t it Baby?” She asked, bouncing her knee faster causing a loud moan to escape your lips.

Shuri felt her knee get wetter, letting out a soft chuckle as she rubbed and pinched your nipple.

“Shuri please… I want you, I need you.. baby don’t keep teasing me like this..” you whimpered with pleading eyes.

“Now you wanna call me baby? Mm.. wasn’t you callin’ that nigga baby? He would be so damn disappointed to see his lil precious girl rubbing her pussy all on my knee, getting wet n’ shit.” She laughed, patting your thigh softly.

You knew Shuri wasn’t playing fair, and she Loved every minute of it.

Just then, Shuri’s tatted digits delved into your soaked folds, rubbing against your clit in tight circles. She adds another finger, scissoring them to stretch you open. Her thumb presses against your clit, applying firm pressure as she fingers you roughly.

“Ouuu fuck! Ahh!! Shuri!” You moaned loudly, throwing your head back.

“Mhm, wassup Mama? You can’t handle this baby? I bet lil Naveen wasn’t havin’ you like this was he?” She chuckled, pinching and rubbing your clit in tight circles.

Shuri's fingers picked up the pace, thrusting harder and faster into your tight pussy. Her thumb pressed down harder on your clit, rubbing it in tight circles.

“You been missin’ me Mama? It’s okay Baby, lemme make you feel what you been missin’ out on…” Shuri said smiling, as she watched you squirm in her lap.

hand continued to move, her fingers pumping into you hard and fast, her thumb pressing down hard on your clit.

“Talk to me mama.. I wanna hear your pretty voice Baby..” her voice was low and seductive, looking you dead in your eyes as she thrusted her fingers into your pussy.

Her fingers continue their relentless pace, curling inside you to hit that sweet spot deep within your pussy. Shuri’s other hand reaches up to grab your Left breast, as She squeezes it, pinching your nipple between her fingers.

“Mmm and look at these pretty ass Titties Mama… I can’t wait to have em’ in my mouth Baby..” She whispered as She leaned down to the crook of your neck, gently placing a kiss on it before she let her fangs sink into your skin. A sharp pain mixed with pleasure, as she gently sucked on the area she had bitten.

Shuri’s face disappears between your breasts, her mouth latching onto a nipple as she sucks hard, her other hand still buried in your pussy. Her fingers move faster, adding a third to join the others. The sound of your wet pussy and Shuri’s hungry sucking fills the room.

“Mmm shuri.. I’m bout’ to cum…” you whined, feeling your legs beginning to shake.

Shuri’s mouth moves to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of you. She could feel your walls tensing around her fingers.

“Nah, don’t cum just yet Mama. Hold for me yeah? be a good girl for yo’ Panther.”

Shuri’s touch becomes more insistent, her fingers moving faster, curling deeper. Her mouth latches onto your neck, sucking hard as you writhe against her. Her thumb rubs furiously against your engorged clit.

“Aww, she misses me don’t she? Look who easy she sucks in my fingers Mama. See, I always knew this pussy was mine to begin with.”

Mhm, all yours panther.

“Aight, you can cum Mama..” she smirked softly, giving you a gentle peck on your lips.

“F-FUCK!!!!” You screamed out, your mouth slightly agape, a loud gasp escaping your lips.

Shuri muffles your cries with her mouth, her fingers continuing their unrelenting pace until the last wave of your passion subsides. She slowly extracts her fingers, bringing them to her mouth to clean off your essence.

“Mmm you taste so good baby, but I ain’t even done with you, But you know that don’t you Mama?”

You knew she wasn’t done with you, but yet you still wanted to push her.

“But-“ Before you could even oblige, Shuri picked you up, carrying you to your bedroom.

She carries you to your bedroom, carefully laying you down on the bed as she began undressing herself.

“You always gotta be so damn stubborn and disobedient. Why the fuck can’t you just listen to the shit I be sayin’ to you Usana? Ohh, I see what it is. You don’t give a fuck bout shit I say ain’t that right Mama?”

“N-No.. that ain’t-“ but before you could say anything, Shuri wrapped her slender hand around your throat, giving you that stare that meant “Shut the fuck up.”.

“Guqa, ngoku.” (kneel, now.)

She chuckles quietly, watching you kneel in front of her after her command. Her thumb swipes across your lower lip, pressing down on it gently.

She enjoyed seeing you like this, so well behaved and listening to her every word.

She stops when she was stood right in front of you, her eyes roaming over your body as she looked down at you.

One of her hands reached out, gently touching your jawline this time, before she lifted your head up in an admiring manner.

“Look at you, so pretty down there.” She coos, using that tone she had whenever she wanted to act more possessive with you.

Her fingers run along your jawline, her thumb running over your bottom lip, before she pulled it back.

”You gon’ put that pretty ass mouth to use for yo’ Panther Mamas?” She asked, running her index finger over your bottom lip.

“Yes ma’am..” you muttered obediently.

She watched you for a moment longer, before unzipping her pants, letting the strap be in full view.

It was obviously too big for her, but that’s how she liked it. The way it stuck out of her pants, and she only wore boxers to avoid it from flopping around too obviously.

She knew how much you loved the color purple, it just happened to be your favorite color. So, she always went that route with her strap and outfits when it came to you.

It was a deeper purple, the shade of a violet to be specific, with almost gold and silver veins in it. It’s size was pretty big, in every sense of the word.

Shuri smirked as she saw the purple strap fling out, revealing her impressive length. She slowly pulled down her zipper even more, her other hand now tangling in your hair.

“Go on, show yo’ Panther what that pretty ass mouth can do Mama. Show me you a good girl Baby, let yo’ Panther know that you hers only.” She whispered, watching as you wrapped your hand around her length.

It was a custom made one, hand crafted by vibranium with the strongest elastic ever. It was specifically designed that way so she could feel you around her, feel all the sensations. Even the slightest movements you made.

“Mama, this ain’t no ordinary regular ass strap either. You see, I made this myself Mama cuz’ I wanna feel your lips wrapped around me, along with that pretty Pussy…” She purred softly.

Fucking genius..

Shuri's grin widened as you wrapped your hand around her Dick. She watched intently as you slowly pumped it a few times, feeling it grow even harder in your grasp. She let out a soft moan, her hips bucking forward slightly.

“Mmm.. Ungandigezeli Sana..”

(don’t tease me baby…)

Shuri's breathing grew heavier as you continued to stroke her. She gripped your hair tighter, guiding your head down slowly.

"Now open that mouth... stick out your tongue. Lick it, baby... taste me." She moaned, guiding her length in your mouth.

Shuri's breath hitched as you lapped at her length, your warm, wet tongue tracing patterns along her shaft. She let out a low groan, her hand guiding your head down further.

"Mmm... good girl... just like that... now, take me in, baby. Deep..."

“Does it feel good Baby?” You muttered, with your mouth full of her Dick.

Shuri's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as you took her into your mouth, the warmth and tightness nearly overwhelming her. She nodded frantically, her hand tightening in your hair.

"Oh Bast, yes... it feels so good... so fucking good... don't stop, baby... don't stop… Mamas.."

Shuri’s breathing grew heavier, her voice hoarse as she guided your head bob up and down on her lap. Her hips bucked forward, meeting your mouth with each thrust. She looked down at you with hooded eyes, her face contorted in pure pleasure.

"Touch yourself, baby... Touch yo’ Pussy for me Mama.. be a good slut for yo’ Panther.."

Shuri's gaze never left your face as you began to touch yourself, your fingers moving quickly over your clit. She could see the pleasure spreading across your features, your eyes half-lidded and your lips wrapped tightly around her Dick.

"Fuck... just like that... rub yo’ pretty clit... Ma.."

look in your eyes told Shuri everything. the way they sparkled, how dilated your pupils were, how your eyes got a bit wide, and how your breath deepened within every thrust. You were enjoying getting treated like a Slut, because you loved how Shuri called herself “your Panther.”

Shuri’s hips began to rock gently, thrusting shallowly into your mouth as she watched you pleasure yourself. The dual sensations of your mouth and the erotic sight before her were driving her wild with lust.

"Don't you dare stop, Mama... I'm so close... gonna fill this pretty mouth..."

The way she said those words made your Pussy even wetter by the second..

Shuri could see your arousal growing, your fingers moving faster and more insistently over your slick folds. The wet sounds of your self-pleasure mixed with the obscene slurping noises of her shaft plunging in and out of your mouth.

"Oooh fuck, I'm Bout’ to cum Princess..." she whimpered, her eyes rolling back.

“Cum for me Shuri… please fill my mouth baby…” you begged, with a mouthful of her dick.

With a low moan, Shuri's body convulsed, her hips bucking forward as she spilled into your mouth. She gripped your hair tightly, guiding your head down onto her as she rode out the waves of her intense release. She panted, looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Oh Bast, ooh fuck…” she panted, looking down at you with those low red irises.

Shuri's body shuddered with aftershocks, her shaft pulsing against your tongue as the last spurts of her release filled your mouth. She slowly pulled back, her length slipping from your lips with a soft pop. She cupped your face, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“Swallow my shit Mama.. swallow all of it.” She murmured, tilting your chin up.

As you swallowed, Shuri watched in fascination as your throat bobbed, taking down every last drop of her seed. You made a soft, mewling sound in the back of your throat, the taste of her salty, slightly sweet essence coating your mouth and sliding down your throat.

“Look at you Ma.. swallowing my cum like a good fucking slut… them pleadin’ ass eyes of yours..” she whispered, running her thumb over your bottom lip.

“Panther please fuck me. do it like you fucking hate me Shuri, Make me cry yo’ name.. make the whole neighborhood hear my voice..” you pleaded, looking up at her.

She reached her hand out and grabbed your jaw between her thumb, index and middle finger, her purple painted nails gripping into your soft skin. Her eyes hardening with malice.

“Beg for it Mama, beg for yo’ panther to fuck you Baby, and I’ll consider it.”

Oh, how she Fucking loved when you begged..

“Panther, baby…” You let out a whine, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes. You had no restraint or shame when it came to her.

“Please.” You couldn’t stop that one word from leaving your mouth. You needed her, you wanted her.

You whimpered, the desperation in your voice clear. She was the only one who got to see you like this, and you were practically begging her.

The way you called her by that nickname, and the way you so shamelessly begged for her, it was all something she adored. It only added fuel to the fire and only got her riled up more.

“lakho elikhuselekileyo nkosazana?” (Your safe word princess?)

“Lirozi.” (Roses.)

“Good Girl Mama..” she cooed softly pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Without a word, she guided you to turn around, pulling your back against her front.

Shuri's other hand reached down to guide the strap-on to your waiting entrance, rubbing the thick head against your soaked lips.

"Goba phezu komntwana.” (Bend over Baby.)

you arched your back beautifully, presenting yourself to her completely. The new angle allowed her to sink deep inside you, her thick Dick stretching you deliciously. Your back was arched almost painfully, pushing your ass up and out, inviting her to take you hard and rough.

"…Nnnngh Mama…!" Shuri's voice rose to a loud, desperate wail as she finally pushed past your tight pussy and sank into your welcoming warmth. Her body tensed, her fingers digging into your hips as she buried her face against your back, moaning uncontrollably.

“Ouuu mmmf.. f-fuck Panther!” Your voice shattered, breaking into needy whimpers as you begged for more. Your hands clenched on the bedsheets, your arms straining as you pushed back against her demanding hips.

"You like that, baby?... You like the way I stretch your pretty hole?..." Shuri hissed, her breath hitching as you tightened around her. She spanked your ass hard, the sound echoing in the living room as she increased her pace, jackhammering into you from behind.

“Jonga wena Nkosazana, uthatha i-dick yakho yePanther kakuhle...” she muttered in your ear.

(Look at you Princess, taking your Panther's dick so good...)

"That's it Baby, take this Dick! Fuck, your pussy feels so good squeezing me Mama..." She panted, sweat glistening on her brow as she pistoned in and out of your soaked heat. Her fingers dug into the flesh of your ass as she gripped you harder.

“Oooh look at that pretty Pussy get fucked baby! look how she swallows my Dick Mama! Nigga ain’t got shit on me baby, and you know Why Babygirl..?” She asked, palming a sharp smack to your ass.

“W-Why..?” You muttered, gripping the sheets tightly.

“Because your Pussy will be used to me, than she’ll ever be to him Babydoll.”

“You see how yo’ pussy swallows my dick within a heartbeat? Hear how wet she is for Me. She knows me baby, and she’ll forever love this Dick I promise you.” She muttered in your ear chuckling softly.

She flexed her hips, churning deep within you as her other hand reached down to strum your clit roughly.

“MMMF... YES FUCK YES PANTHER! FUCK ME LIKE YOU FUCKING HATE ME BABY!” Your voice boomed out, echoing off the walls as you let out a deafening roar of pleasure.

“F-Fuck..! Ah fuck! I hate you Baby! I hate you so Fucking much..” she muttered, rubbing your clit harder.

“Say it again…! Say you hate me Panther! Fuck me like the Slut I am Baby!” You moaned, arching your back putting your ass even higher in the air for her.

Shuri's face contorted with rage, her eyes glinting with anger and lust. She gripped a handful of your hair and yanked your head back painfully, her voice low and maliciously.

“I hate you, Ma. You know that? I hate how beautiful you are. I hate you Baby!” She snarled, palming a very firm smack on your ass.

Shuri raised her hand and brought it down HARD across your ass cheek with a resounding SMACK. She continued to spank you rhythmically as she fucked into you, each thrust accompanied by a sharp smack to your tender flesh.

You bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain, but it felt so good.

Shuri snarled and continued to pound into you mercilessly, each thrust harder and faster than the last. The leather strap made obscene slapping sounds as it hit your ass and pussy.

“I hate how you make me feel. How you make me want you all the time. How you got a nigga all desperate for you n’ shit, and how you out here givin’ my Pussy away to some average lookin’ ass boy who can’t even fuck you properly!!” Shuri fumed, with a low malicious tone.

Shuri smirked cruelly, as she continued to piston in and out of your pussy.

“look at this fucking pussy, so sloppy and stretched out by my dick. But, you love that shit though.. ain’t that right nkosazana?” She grinned with cruelty, her fang grills gleaming.

Shuri's body tensed as she felt her release nearing. She leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear.

“I hate that I love you, Ma. I do. I hate you so much for makin' me love you!! Even though you piss me off so badly, I still fucking love yo’ ass!”

That sentence made your heart melt… making you moan loudly at the thought of her actually loving you.

“F-Fill this Pussy Panther! Make it yours forever baby! make this Pussy overflow!!” You cried out.

And with that, Shuri's body shook as she reached her climax, her hips bucking wildly as she pumped her load deep into your spasming pussy.

"Fuuuuck!!" She screamed, holding you tight as she rode out her orgasm, her fingers never leaving your clit.

Shuri held you close as the waves of pleasure washed over her, her hips still twitching with small aftershocks. After a long moment, she slowly pulled out of you, admiring the way her release dripped out of your well-used pussy.

“Ah, fuck…” Shuri muttered, trying to catch her breath.

Shuri was laying on the bed next to you, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, a sweaty, happy mess. One arm was thrown over her eyes as she did her best to calm herself down, her whole body still trembling.

“Ulungile, nkosazana?” (You good, princess?)

“Yea, I’m aight Panther.” You muttered under your breath.

Both of you were breathing heavily, the aftermath of everything that just happened still coursing through your bodies. Shuri had her arms around you in a loose embrace, still trying to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling.

Shuri was breathing hard, her chest heaving, her body glistening with sweat. She reached up and pulled you close to her, her arms wrapping around your middle, holding you right up against her.

“Mama… that’s… that’s how a princess should be… Fucked Baby.” She softly said, with a contented sigh.

After a few moments of silence, Shuri spoke, her voice soft, almost vulnerable.

“Mama, can I tell you somethin’?”

You arched one of your eyebrows at her, waiting for her to say whatever she’s about to say.

Shuri opened her eyes, her gaze locking onto yours.

“I want you to be mine. Completely, fully mine. I don’t want you to leave, or go somewhere else. I want you here, beside me, in my arms, forever Baby.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as Shuri spoke, her words hitting you hard, causing a wave of emotions to wash over you.

A mixture of elation, desire, and the beginnings of love filled you, making your chest ache in the best way possible. To know that this magnificent woman, strong and beautiful and powerful, wanted you with such intensity, wanted to claim you and keep you, was almost overwhelming.

Shuri shifted a little closer to you, her hand coming up to rest on your cheek. Her eyes were soft now, almost vulnerable.

“Mamas… you have no idea how hard it has been for me. Seein’ you all the time, wanting you, wanting you more and more every day, but not being able to have you. Not being able to touch you the way I want, or have you in my arms. It’s… it’s been hell.”

She shook her head, her thumb tracing over your cheek as she continued speaking, her voice holding a hint of sadness and frustration.

“I don’t like it when you avoid me. When you ignore me. It kills me inside every time, it reminds me that you don’t want to be mine, that you don’t feel the same way I do. It’s like a knife in my gut, Mamas.”

Your heart ached in sympathy as you heard Shuri’s words. You knew you had been avoiding her, ignoring her, pushing her away, and for the first time, it occurred to you just how much it had hurt her.

But now, as you listened to her speak, to the pain and frustration in her voice, you felt something new begin to stir in you. A hint of empathy, a hint of realizing the depth of her feelings, her desire for you.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like an absolute bastard for what you had put her through. She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to be ignored, to be avoided the way you had ignored and avoided her.

Your voice was contrite when you finally spoke.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Baby. I’ve been treating you horribly and it wasn’t right. You didn’t deserve that...”

Shuri’s expression softened as she listened to you apologize, a flicker of vulnerability passing over her face, followed quickly by relief.

“I know, Mamas… I know that. I just… you don’t know what it’s been like. Wanting you, needing you, and not being able to have you. It’s been hell.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, before opening them again, her gaze locking onto yours.

“But I want you to know how I feel about you Usana. I need you to know that I want you to be mine.”

She took a deep breath, her hand slipping down to rest on the curve of your hip, pulling you closer to her.

“Can I have you, Baby? Completely, and fully be mine? Please? Can you be My princess forever?”

You felt your breath catch in your throat at Shuri’s words, the possessive way she spoke, the way she looked at you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you listened to her, and when she stopped speaking, you only waited a moment before whispering softly.

“Of course, take me Panther. I’m yours. Only yours.”

And with that being said, Shuri kissed you passionately, wrapping her slender hand around your throat as she deepened the kiss.

After 10 minutes of sharing tongues with eachother, Shuri spoke up, but her tone was more of a command than a statement.

“Delete and block that nigga number Baby. Since you are My Princess, there should be no reason why you got his number and why he got yours. So in that case, cut his ass off.” She commanded, as she gave you your phone.

With that command being told, you deleted and blocked Naveen’s number.

(A/n: yoo I’m sorry it took so long for me to make a pt 2 lol 😭😭 I been at workk. But, hope y’all enjoyed tho..)

[arashi-no-saxlphone]

I don't even need to wait or see the patch notes to tell you that Axl is going be in exactly the same place, or more likely, even worse off because ArcSys has not a single braincell active in the entire office when they're making balancing decisions for Strive. They might give him one "new" thing that doesn't help at all with any of the major issues he's had for 3 years and meanwhile they are also changing EVERYONE and giving them new stuff meaning the characters that already do TONS OF SHIT will be able to represent more options and keep the playing field exactly as uneven as it already is because we are so desperate to choke on the genitalia of the same 5 lame fucking strike throw two button mother fuckers that even the THOUGHT of "Let's just leave this as is since they function perfectly well" has never once crossed their minds. If you disagree with me go back and watch the Axl portion of the trailer again and tell me EXACTLY how helpful it is that 6K lets you Rensen. It's just An Easier Thing - NOT EVEN a new thing you can already do it it's just dumb as hell to try and partition the charge and half the time you get fucked. They showed him doing 6K > Rensen twice and then moved on. Yeah I'm still fucking pissed about it. Look at what the rest of the trailer is like tell me I'm being ridiculous. Goldlewis is already killing people "Oh it costs security meter" yeah notable super difficult to "manage" "resource" Security Meter kiss the fattest part of my ass

[witchofthesouls]

I have this image of Jack standing next to Arcee as June introduces her new boyfriend, the Titan (insert name here). Jack was already mortified when he learned his mom was a robo-fucker. This is a humongous mech who turns into a space ship and a city. A cybertronian sized city! The teen is floping down on the base couch having a full on nervous breakdown trying to push away all questions he realy doesn't want to think about, let alone get the answers too.

Meanwhile you have the Autobots marveling over June becomeing the first new cityspeaker since before the war. Also just the Quintessions being active is Alarming™️.

Who knows what our unhinged Titan friend is going to do when he learns human lives are so short especially if he's got a personality that's part Ratchet's and part Optimus.

Jack is having a breakdown for entirely different reasons because the Cybertronian gods did a coin toss to see if June will have Megatron and his child at Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays or if she will plan Megatron's demise. They'll either get along like dynamite in a mine, someone will end up dead, or both.

He has no idea how it will turn out, but when his mom has a Project. It's hers.

And I meant it's June that has a personality between Ratchet and Orion Pax. Like every good hospital worker with shitty administration, she's very much a person who has Malicious Compliance embedded in her bones with the addition of spite, energy drinks, and hidden contraband somewhere you wouldn't expect under a serene smile and a spine of steel.

If you are her people, then she'll mother-hen the shit out of you. She's intense and she knows that. June has gotten better over the years in that aspect, but should a friend or family need help, she's there.

20/10 will drive you to your surgery at 4 am as a designated driver, terrify your shitty apartment managers into compliance, or help plan a massive heist to take back all the money your cheating lover has stolen over the years for their side piece(s). She's built on solid alibis and documentation, documentation, and oh documentation.

She made a nest of giant pillows in the garage for Arcee, and even partitioned it out to give the femme the privacy to be rest in her root-mode when June needs to use the clicker. And Jack uncovered the plans to target Airachnid, and he has no idea how to feel about it because he can tell that his mom is heavily utilizing the medical commentary from Ratchet, the details of the 'bots' exploits that Miko manages to wheedle out, and his own experiences with 'bot-eating parasites...

The unhinged Titan has found a match, but it's not romantic. Oh no, June Darby now has a life-long project to spruce it up. And said Titan is not only over the moon that its new favorite person with similar levels of devotion, but has a lineage with a son that looks so much like her. It was once a major research facility that dealt with xenobiology. It's not above looking into ways to expand their lifespans. Anything for their favorite. Anything. Even if it must lure the resident scientists to its bosom and trap them to make use of its repository of accumulated data.

[slaviclore]

So now that olga tokarczuk's empuzjon has been translated into English (empusium-- u are not supposed to know this word, she made it up), I'm seeing more reviews of it around, and tho I can't speak to the quality of the translation because I haven't read it, I do have a take on one recurring theme from the reviews, which is that it's boring in parts. Short response under the cut, no major spoilers, but includes a summary of a major plot point and some analysis...

The story is set in pre-ww1 Europe in what is today western poland, partitioned to the western empires at the time. There is a health resort in the mountains there intended to treat ppl w tuberculosis. The main character is a young polish man who's recently been diagnosed and he arrives at the resort for treatment.

There's no cure for tb at this time, and the ppl arriving there are basically just idk having their fevers managed, taking some hallucinogens, and doing random superstitious things that are supposed to help like bathing in the springs etc, but lo key they're all gonna die of tb.

But when the main character gets there he starts to realize that there's other spooky things happening besides ppl dying of tb, and there might be a supernatural entity in the woods like killing someone once a year every year. And the date is approaching.

So here's the thing ppl find boring: the patients, all men, are kind of waiting to die. They hang out every evening, and they talk extensively about politics, psychology, philosophy etc. The conversations are sometimes long and written out without much break, which is tedious and maybe monotonous, but for me it was anxiety inducing because like they are actively dying. They are in the waiting room of death and they're chatting about things they will never have rhe opportunity to affect. Everything they've learned thru life is being wasted on other future corpses. To me yes it was tedious but that created sadness snd anxiety.

There's another element. This is a highly feminist book. All the patients in the resort are men, and they have 100 year old ideas, so these waiting room of death conversations are full of misogyny. But the effect is just pathetic. Like bro u can count in double digits the number of nights u have on this earth, and you're arguing about whether or not women have souls? Go write a poem and mail it to your mom or something. It's interesting because usually when u get a lot of misogyny somewhere, it's infuriating, it pisses me off, but here it's just pathetic, it makes the men look that much weaker. It's a farce of their power as men, which they can't realize they no longer have. They are holding on w white knuckles to a patriarchy that is for living men, not them.

Oh and there's something in the woods hunting them. So they're just sick weak sitting ducks.

I don't know how else u can achieve this effect without having their extensive misogynistic conversations written out in full. I think it's genius.

[camilleisback]

Let's not make it a habit, a Jorge/Bez fanfic

Pairing: Jorge Martin/Marco Bezzecchi

Word count: 4266

Tag: smut, porn with plot, face fucking, post coital cuddling, Bez is not familiar with the concept of lavender couples

Jorge is…shameless, the way only his compatriots are. Unhinged, always toying on the fine line between innocent camaraderie and blatant flirting. He helps Marco to his feet only to shove him behind a flimsy aluminum partition and kiss him, wet and sloppy, almost ripping a shocked moan out of him, his calloused hand clamped on the back of his head while Marco kisses the taste of sambuca from his lewd mouth. He never liked sambuca too much, but he could consider the idea of giving it a chance if he could always drink it directly from Jorge’s tongue. Soon enough, he finds himself tugging at Jorge’s sweaty mesh top, unable to exercise enough self-restraint not to act horny on main. Again, Jorge laughs, but the way he pulls at his curls is making Marco actively want to ditch any sort of inhibition and fall on his knees right where they are – where everybody could see them, if they weren’t too busy getting drunk while a remixed version of Gloria is playing in the background.

Marco keeps his promise and gives Jorge the best blowjob of his life after Aprilia manages a podium finish.

[bet-on-me-13]

Just read Danny Phantom: A Glitch In Time (!!!SPOILERS!!!)

And how has nobody else mentioned the potential Goldmine of Lore that this book provides!

Think of how many opportunities the book could open!

Spoilers for the events of A Glitch In Time! You have been Warned!

Time for the biggest one off the Bat...

Dan is now canonically a Child again, and the Son of Vlad/Brother of Danny (as his clone)

Clockwork's Medallions are partitions of his Powers, and Valerie now has one of them (And it looks like Danny managed to use one of them to channel CW's powers, he did say "Time Out" and "Time In")

Danny's basically lost his Obsession of Protection (although they are calling them Purposes), and gained a new one for Helping Ghosts instead. He also has more powers)

Obsessions are now the Canonical Source of Ghosts Powers, although as I said they are now called Purposes (I still like calling them Obsessions though)

Clockwork is Canonically the God of Time (idk if it was ever fully confirmed, but now it is)

Dan is just under Clockwork in terms of Pure Power, although he did manage to beat him with the element of surprise.

The Disastroid Event was canonically Retconned by Clockwork. (it did happen, but none of the Ghosts were involved. The world still hates Ghosts, and Danny was never revealed)

The A-Listers are Ghost Hunters, and on fairly good terms with Danny (if a little iterating)

Vlad now had a Canonical Redemption Arc, so we don't need to bend over backwards to redeem him anymore, we have a good story to use for him.

Valerie seems to be on Bad(?) terms with Danny at the moment, but we don't really know so far. But she did say, "Danny? I always knew you were Evil!" To Dan. And she did look very antagonistic in ending panels.

The GIW is still apparently still active, but it's really just a throwaway line from Sam. They don't show up at all though

Smart Phones are now Canonical in the Danny Phantom World, possibly due to the Time Glitches. Though, if you want to still use PDA's you can.

Tucker is smart enough to build a Universal Translator within the time period of a single Gym Class. Maybe cause of the Smartphones.

Anybody else read the book and want to add on to this? I definitely didn't get all of them!

[moonrepeat]

there's a sizeable chunk of their core memories that D-1N0 keeps partitioned off, warded from incidental activation through self-made encryptions. they've never tried to delete them—out of cowardice, perhaps, or weak-minded sentiment—and they rarely feel the urge to access them. there's nothing useful there. they keep what they need to do their job, and do it well, and dismiss the rest.

D-1N0 was not built with sensors in their hands. they didn't need them. ███ had changed that, the first time they had tried to cradle his face in their hands and left dark bruises across his jaw. flesh always yields to metal, in the end. "it's alright," he'd told them with a smile as they fretted over the damage they'd unintentionally dealt. "you don't know your own strength. i think i can help with that." the next day, he salvaged some sensors from the rusting carcass of an old bird. he wired them in the same evening, and D-1N0 lost themself in a cascade of pressure, temperature, feeling. an entire world that had been closed to them. they spent hours pacing the length of the ship while the crew slept, tapping the tips of their fingers together to calibrate their new input.

the eyeless dog shambles past, snout half-buried in the dirt as she searches for a fresh prey-scent. crook, that was her name. D-1N0 can't remember who named her. she'd been the strongest of her pack, before age and the loss of her hearing had led to her exile. her teeth are still sharp, though, so they wait a moment for her to pass before crawling through the gap in the wire fencing.

"they're gone, they're dead," ███ gasped, crashing down beside them. blood seeped through the shoulder of his uniform. "fuck. fuck! how are we going to—" "i've got you," D-1N0 said, and then there was nothing else to say. they clutched ███'s hand in their left, dragging him onwards, and killed with their right. you don't know your own strength, ███ had told them. they made quick work of rectifying that when they tore the arm off a thumper and shoved the jagged end out through the back of its skull. their newfound taste for violence terrified ███. he never said it, but they knew him better than they know themself. he let go of their hand to start the ship, but the feel of his hot, sweaty palm lingered in their memory until it became an obsession.

D-1N0 doesn't remember how many years they've been running solo. sometimes there's another crew offloading their own haul when they return to 71-gordion, but the sight of the ragged old robot doesn't inspire much friendliness. D-1N0 doesn't mind. they don't want any crewmates. they die too easily.

they watch their next quota rattle up to a round 16k, and trudge back to their ship. they'll need to flip the system, soon enough. start over. they may be the best in the business, but even they can't manage the highest quotas alone.

something makes them linger by the bunks. they pick up a torn red blanket, rubbing the fabric between their fingertips.

the first time ███ called them dee, it felt like a new connection was established deep in their circuits. a new feeling choked out their processes, heavy but not unpleasant; far from it. the clarity was dizzying in the best way. the silence stretched on, and ███ eventually twisted around to frown at them, concerned. "what's wrong?" "you called me dee," they said, their voice fuzzy with static. "i liked that." ███ blushed, the reddening of his face making his freckles all the more noticeable. they liked that, too. they always switched their optics to the highest resolution whenever they focused on him, just to count his freckles and admire the pretty green of his eyes. "well," he said, coyly, "i've been thinking about a pet name for you for a while, now." "a pet name?" they laughed, wrapped their arms around him from behind. they could feel his heartbeat under their palm. (they liked that, too.) "am i your pet?" "hardly. you're my..." ███ leaned his head against theirs. "i guess you wouldn't use boyfriend, right? partner, then?" "you can call me whatever you want, so long as you keep callin' me dee," D-1N0 said, and they'd never meant anything more.

D-1N0 lets the blanket fall back onto the bunk, and turns away. one day they'll remove the bunks; they take up too much space, space they could put to better use stashing a bigger haul. one day, they keep telling themself, knowing they never will.

there was a presence there, once. something—someone—important. someone they don't remember, don't allow themself to remember. they remind themself that if they don't remember, it doesn't matter.

he's gone now.

[mehdidehnabi]

How to Remove or Disable YouTube on Samsung Devices

If you're looking to remove the YouTube app from your Samsung device, it's important to note that YouTube is often a pre-installed system app, which means it cannot be completely uninstalled through standard methods. However, there are several approaches you can take to disable or remove it from your device.

1. Disable the YouTube App

Disabling the app prevents it from running and removes it from your app drawer.

Open Settings.

Navigate to Apps.

Scroll down and select YouTube.

Tap on Disable.

Confirm by tapping Disable again.

While in the YouTube app settings, tap on Storage.

Select Clear Data and Clear Cache.

This method doesn't uninstall the app but prevents it from running and frees up storage space.

2. Remove YouTube Using ADB (Advanced Users)

For a more permanent solution, you can use Android Debug Bridge (ADB) to uninstall the app. This method requires a computer and some technical knowledge.

Steps:

Enable Developer Options on Your Phone:

Go to Settings > About phone.

Tap on Build number seven times to activate Developer Mode.

Return to Settings and access Developer options.

Enable USB debugging.

Set Up ADB on Your Computer:

Download and install the Minimal ADB and Fastboot tool.

Connect Your Phone to the Computer:

Use a USB cable to connect your device.

When prompted on your phone, allow USB debugging.

Uninstall YouTube via ADB:

Open the ADB command interface on your computer.

Enter the following command to list connected devices: nginxCopyEditadb devices

Once your device is recognized, enter: cssCopyEditadb shell pm uninstall --user 0 com.google.android.youtube

This command removes the YouTube app for the current user. Note that this method doesn't delete the app from the system partition, so a factory reset might restore it.

3. Remove Your YouTube Account

If your goal is to disassociate your account from the YouTube app:

Open the YouTube app.

Tap on your profile icon in the top right corner.

Select Manage your Google Account.

Navigate to the Data & privacy tab.

Scroll down and tap on Delete a Google service.

Enter your password when prompted.

Next to YouTube, click the trash bin icon.

Follow the on-screen instructions to permanently delete your YouTube account.

Be aware that this action will delete all your YouTube data, including playlists, subscriptions, and history.

⚠️ Important Considerations

System Apps: YouTube is often a system app on Samsung devices, meaning it can't be fully uninstalled without rooting your device.

Rooting Risks: Rooting can void your warranty and may lead to security vulnerabilities. Proceed with caution.

Alternative Solutions: If you want to limit YouTube usage without removing it, consider setting up Parental Controls or using Digital Wellbeing features to restrict access.

By following these methods, you can effectively remove or disable the YouTube app on your Samsung device, depending on your needs and technical comfort level.

[muhammadshahrukh]

Muhammad Shahrukh Feroz Qadri

A Dedicated Social Worker and Digital Activist

Birth and Early Life Muhammad Shahrukh Feroz Qadri is a young and dedicated social worker born on February 3, 1990, in Karachi, Pakistan. His full name is Muhammad Shahrukh, son of Ferozuddin, grandson of Haji Bashir Ahmad, and great-grandson of Sohail Muhammad, and great-great-grandson of Khuda Bakhsh.

Sharf-e-Bayat (The Honor of Initiation)

Community and Heritage Muhammad Shahrukh Feroz belongs to the Rangrez community in Karachi, which is registered under the name “Anjuman Qoum-e-Sikandari.” The association was registered in Karachi in 1988. The Sikandari community originally hails from Delhi, India, and they migrated to Pakistan during the partition of 1947. They settled in the Saddar Town area of Karachi, where they have lived ever since.

YouTube Channel for Naats

Muhammad Shahrukh Feroz Qadri has a deep love for reciting and listening to Naats in praise of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). Inspired by this passion, he created a YouTube channel named Muhammad Shahrukh Qadri (Watch here). This channel is dedicated to preserving and sharing old recordings of Naats recited by various renowned Naat Khawans, catering to the interests of Naat enthusiasts.

Serving as Joint Secretary in Karachi Printing Press Association

In September 2021, when Finance Minister Miftah Ismail announced an unjust tax of Rs. 6,000 on electricity bills, protests erupted across the country, with Karachi’s business community also strongly opposing it. Traders and press owners from the printing press sector of Pakistan Chowk and Burns Road actively participated in these demonstrations. To better organize and manage the protests, the Karachi Printing Press Association was established. With the consensus of the market traders, Muhammad Shahrukh Feroz Qadri was appointed as a Supreme Council Member and Joint Secretary of this association.

Hosting Programs at MEM TV Canada’s Karachi Studio

In 2020, Muhammad Shahrukh Feroz Qadri began hosting the program “Ilmi Muzakra” on MEM TV, a Canadian IPTV channel. Following this, he hosted several other programs on MEM TV, including:

Ilmi Muzakra (16 episodes) – Watch here

Waqt-e-Sehar Transmission (29 episodes) – Watch here

Aala Hazrat Ke Khulafa (21 episodes) – Watch here

Shan-e-Imam Ahmed Raza (3 episodes) – Watch here

MEM Ke Mehman (20 episodes) – Watch here

Social Media Engagements Facebook Profile: Muhammad Shahrukh Feroz YouTube Channel: Shahrukh Qadri Instagram: @iamshahrukhferoz TikTok: @shahrukh_feroz WhatsApp Channel: WhatsApp Channel Facebook Page: Shahrukh1Qadri Threads: @iamshahrukhferoz

[nosnet]

Past Lives (2) – New York State of Mind

by J. D. Dennis

Time Period:  Early 2027

Perspective: Vyx and Vince

Rating: R

Content Warnings: Swearing, violence, guns, discussion of abuse, two characters who aren’t good together have it out, transmasc pregnancy talk, we broke everyone and now it’s on full display

Word Count: 18,758

Comments: Stop 1: New York City. In which Donnie confirms nobody’s been joking, Al starts to work through some shit, and Vyx realizes that this road trip isn’t going to be as simple as they thought it would.

“Are you blind?! I’m in a fucking bus, you asshole! Who do you think I fucking am, a Toretto?! You think I can stop a bus on a dime?!”

Donnie took over the driving just before they reached the New York State line, and clearly, there was a good reason why. Will – formerly Billiam, as Vyx had confirmed that Will was in fact his first name and that Damon was just, in fact, weird like that – was not a bad driver, by any means; Damon Wellington was not a man to select people of average skill for his staff, and Will was no exception. The man handled the bus like a champ, getting it safely, but quickly, out onto the highway and northbound, and they’d let him get used to driving the thing for a few hours while they raced towards New England. However, just as they were getting out of Delaware, Donnie had requested the driver seat, and Will had acquiesced without fuss; part of it had been the immediate application of a small box, which Donnie explained was an EZ-Pass, meant to let them bypass tolls without having to stop. The other part had become clear, quickly, as the traffic getting into the Lincoln Tunnel alone was a hot mess – not even speaking on the traffic past it - and it was obviously difficult to drive through normally, let alone in a bus.

“Hey, if you need a break, one of us can swap out. This isn’t my first time driving in New York. Don’t want you to burst a blood vessel or nothin’. I mean, if you can. I don’t know if that’s possible.” Vyx said, standing behind Donnie, one hand on the seat and the other on the partition that separated the doors from the rest of the bus. They rocked with the motion, the constant stopping and starting, the way Donnie ripped the bus from one lane into another with what almost looked like reckless abandon making them sway, but they didn’t fall over. They weren’t entirely sure how Vince had managed to make playing cards possible, but he had, and the game going on behind them didn’t seem deterred, even when the bus bounced over bad concrete.

“What? No, I’m not mad--” Donnie explained, even as he leaned out the bus window to throw a quick bird at a pedestrian who had decided to bolt across the street without waiting for the crosswalk. “Watch where the fuck you’re walking! – This is just how you drive. It’s a… cultural exchange.” He explained, and he definitely didn’t look mad, except when he was actively shouting, and the fact that he could turn it off on a dime said he wasn’t lying. If he’d been mad, they would have noticed – he was a Brujah, after all. “If I didn’t yell at them out the window, they’d think I was a tourist and I wouldn’t get to drive anywhere.”

“You know, maybe if we didn’t shit on tourists constantly, we wouldn’t have this innate need to not be perceived as tourists in our own home cities, but that need automatically shits on tourists, so the cycle continues, unabated.” Vince said, to no one, dealing out three cards to each of the players in the group. Flidais wasn’t playing, happily tucked up against Vince without any kind of smile, just watching, but Al had convinced April and Will to tuck themselves into the booth for a game.

“You know, we met, before all of this, and I still can’t ever remember that you’re a Malkavian.” April said, rapidly sliding the cards in her hand against each other while she thought.

“It’s ‘cause he keeps all of his weird shit to himself most of the time.” Al said, pushing three packs of fruit snacks into the center of the table. They hadn’t exactly brought things to bet with, but they did pack snacks, and they served the purpose well enough. Keeping them in the little bags meant it was easier for them to not be consumed mid game. “Then when he says something fucked up, it’s a surprise ‘cause he hasn’t said anything weird recently.” He shook his head, tapping his knuckles on the table to signal that he was done with his turn. April bit her lip, meeting the first bet tentatively, before raising a second fruit snack.

“It keeps people on their toes. Never know what to expect.” Vince shrugged, watching Will as he thought through the cards, before meeting April’s bet. “If every Malk’s just Marie, the world gets boring.”

“Where are we going? Am I looking for a hotel? What side of town?” Donnie asked, butting back in to the conversation. The traffic hadn’t cleared, but they were in the city proper, and he knew he had to start making choices. He wasn’t going to get many options, and he had to know what was worth the risk of bullying his way into. “If you give me an address, I can find it, as long as we didn’t pass the turn already.”

“Molly’s office. She didn’t give me an address, but I figure you know where that is.” Vyx said, and Donnie nodded, quickly throwing the bus over to the left-most lane before they reached the stoplight he needed to turn at. Several cars honked, and he threw another rude hand gesture out the window in a generalized response. Vyx wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done wrong, but that just seemed to the general method of communication.

“Are we not staying in New York?” Flidais asked, her voice always monotone and soft. Vyx turned around, leaning backwards against the seat and the partition, almost falling briefly as Donnie took the left at speed.

“Nah. Apparently, Claire went and got this box for me – that’s how she found out what was happening. So we’re gonna meet her at Molly’s office and grab that before jetting back out of the city again. Hotels out here are fucking expensive and it’s not like half this group didn’t live up here for a bit. I figured Broadway wasn’t exactly a thrilling reason to stop for the night, and considering we’ve got five other stops, it didn’t seem wise to linger.” They shrugged as they righted themselves, turning to look over their shoulder so they could tell when Donnie was about to turn again. Luckily, he used his signals, but it was hard to tell from inside the bus. “This is just a quick stopover.”

“Who else has lived in New York besides Donnie?” Al asked, watching the betting come back around to him. He had his three cards face down on the table, leaning on it with an elbow, and he matched April’s bet before turning one of his three cards sideways. He knocked on the table again, and he watched April reflexively turn her cards, which she’s set down sideways after upping the bet. Al snickered. “Thought so. I’ve passed turn, Planeswalker.”

“What? Hey.” April grumbled, not entirely sure how to feel about being caught out. It wasn’t like she hid the fact that she’s previously played Magic: the Gathering, but she wasn’t exactly enthused about Al tricking her into revealing that fact. “You’re one to talk, Al – you had to be at the devil’s sacrament, too.” She responded, after a second, pushing four packs of fruit snacks into the center, almost out of a spiteful response. Al tried to keep his face neutral, but she could tell that he’d been caught out, just as much. Only someone who’d been exposed to Magic: the Gathering would know the signs of someone else who played, after all. She was honestly just grateful he didn’t know where the term devil’s sacrament came from. “As for New York, I haven’t ever lived up here. I haven’t really been more north than Richmond.”

“I did.” Vince said, already folding before it was even his turn. His hand wasn’t good enough for the four, and he knew it. First rule of playing cards was not to chase a hand you knew you couldn’t win. “Dad and I lived here for… god, I think maybe three years when I was little? Not that I remember it, much. He moved down to Florida fairly quickly. And that means, technically, Vyx also lived here.”

“Not to mention I’ve spent like, a solid eight months in this city just vibin’, so even if I haven’t had my own place here, I think I’ve lived here on my own.” They shrugged, better braced this time as Donnie took a hard right, before pulling the bus up to the curb.

“First stop, the office complex of Molly de l’Argonne.” Donnie said, putting the bus in park – which made an awful noise, as busses often did – before throwing the lever to open the doors. Al quickly folded – Will had as well, unwilling to face April’s wrath – putting his hands up as they started out of the booth, and April gave him a grin that said she was satisfied with her retribution, taking the pile of snacks into her hands and putting her cards back in the deck without revealing them.

“Hey now, show what you had.” Al said, snaking out of the booth after Flidais. April grinned.

“Don’t have to, everyone folded.” She slipped out of the booth, putting the well won snacks in her bag for later, before slinging the small purse over her shoulder. “Maybe next time you should pay more attention to the game we’re playing and not necessarily the games I used to play.” April’s tone was affectionate and not entirely hostile, but it still pulled a groan out of Al all the same, like he was being punished for things he didn’t do.

It took them a moment to pile out of the bus – Will remained, willing to watch the thing while they were inside – as, while none of the people on the bus expected combat, none of them wanted to go in unarmed. Those that weren’t already quickly grabbed the slew of various instrument cases that held most of their guns – it was the easiest way to not get stopped – piling off the bus without any additional fuss. It was clear Al was gearing up to whine about losing at poker – his Vyx, April is being mean to me primed and waiting – but his voice was stayed quickly as they stepped into the grand building that was Molly’s office. 

Molly was not a woman for being subtle, and the design of her office building exemplified that wholeheartedly. The downstairs lobby was a massive space, with high ceilings and a grand central staircase that swept up to both the left and the right, where elevators to the upper floors sat. There were a few offices on the first and second floors, of course, mostly doors to conference rooms for those that didn’t want to venture further, but most of the space was meant to be large, empty, and grand; everything was gilded, all Art Deco designs and polished floors, and a chandelier full of crystals hung low into the space. Clearly, this was a space meant to host parties of unusual size; this was made even more readily apparent when they entered, as Claire stood in the center of the lobby space with a metal box under her arm, directing various people, all clearly staff due to their business casual attire, to put tables and chairs and other items along the walls. She seemed deep in the moment, but Vyx didn’t hesitate, strolling up to her in the middle of things like they were the most important person Claire would speak to all day, their instrument case slung across their back like they were a band meeting their new manager, ready to play.

“Eyyy, Claire!” Vyx called the woman’s name, and she turned, visibly relaxing at the fact that Vyx was there. Clearly, getting the items to Vyx was a thing that was tying Claire up in a way she didn’t like, as the way she moved to set the metal box down on a table immediately said a lot. “Sorry if we’re late – traffic, you know. We’re in a bus, it’s a mess.”

“A bus?” Claire’s accent was thicker than anyone else’s there, even Donnie’s, the quintessential New Yorker tones far too fitting for the speed at which she spoke. She tucked a strand of hair, straight and dark and smooth, behind an ear, snapping at one of the staffers to snag their attention and quickly relaying a series of instructions in hushed tones before turning back to the party and ushering them over to a table, where she finally set the box down. “Aren’t you supposed t’be in an RV?” She paused, only a moment, realizing the question was dumb and the answer unnecessary. Whatever was supposed to happen, didn’t, and that was all she really needed. Anything more would be relegating her to fixing the problem, and she didn’t have time for that. “Regardless, here’s the box. I can’t open it, ‘cause apparently, you have the key, but once you’re sure it’s all there, you can get going.”

“In a rush to kick us out?” Al asked, a little sarcastically, his hands in his pockets. He didn’t need an instrument case, and his hands were free, minus his vape. Claire shot him a look that would have deflated a lesser man, but Al managed to hold strong all the same, hitting said vape as though in rejection of her look. He’d spent enough time trying to work with people who thought him scum to have developed a backbone, even from before the war.  

“Here’s the thing, Al: we’ve got Mardi Gras coming up, then Easter, which Konrad always hosts something for, plus St. Patrick’s day, in New York – I’m busy.” Claire was a little snippy, but clearly, it was just because she was overloaded. There was a lot going on, after all, and they were really the only Kindred capable of hosting those kinds of events in the city – the expectations were high. “Not counting that Molly’s off in New Orleans meeting with one of her contacts from the forties and hanging out with some of Jess Briata’s people, so setting up for all the events falls on me.” Claire sighed. “Not like it doesn’t always fall on me, but usually Molly’s here to schmooze while I work and that keeps distractions like this to a minimum. So just… can we get this open?”

Vyx was already sorting through keys by the time she asked, and while it took them a moment to locate the specific one, they found it after a second and held it aloft. “Glad I labeled the keys.” They said, showing off the fact that it had NYC written on the butt of the key in sharpie. Was it the best method? No, as the letters were lightly smudged and not entirely legible, but it sort of worked. There was enough variation between the various labels that one could probably tell the difference. They deftly unlocked the box, stuffing their ring of keys back into their pockets before opening the thing and removing contents.

For a moment, everyone gathered around the table, craning their necks to see what could possibly be so important as to save for more than a year. Vyx let them – they liked being at the center of attention, after all.

The first thing they produced was a dagger, though some might have called it a sword – the blade itself was nearly a foot long, after all. The handle was hour-glass shaped, dark in color and made of a wood that looked, and smelled, old; it was, luckily, sheathed, but the sheath also had a sigil stamped into the leather that had Al picking the thing up almost as soon as Vyx had set it on the table. “Where the hell did you get a sword in New York?” He asked, inspecting it closely.

“Oh, no, this isn’t from here; most of this box is from overseas.” Vyx said, pulling out a stack of boxes of what looked like French chocolates, if the writing on the side being in French said anything. They could have been Swiss, but the box looked far too French. They peered into one with a face that was almost worried, but they nodded in acceptance at the fact that none of them were blue with mold. “Like these? These are from Paris. They still look good, so we’re probably fine to eat them.”

“Okay, then: where the hell did you get a sword in Europe?” Al asked, again, taking the correction and applying it to try and get back to the actual question he’d posed. Vyx looked up, hands holding a series of various Doctor Who themed tourist merchandise, including at least one Tardis Keychain that started to vvorp vvorp when they moved it; the batteries, clearly, hadn’t exploded in the time it had been locked away.

“I’m more concerned about the dental practices you encountered in Europe that would let you leave with a tooth.” Vince added, deftly reaching into the box and producing one, single, brown molar, covered in dirt and dust and looking like Vyx had grabbed it straight from a grave. “Especially one that gives off the worst vibes I’ve encountered in a while – which, admittedly, the last bad vibes I got were Eldest, since that’s all still recent, for me. But like… the last time I felt bad vibes like this, we were fucking around in the Paris Catacombs trying to catch your dumb ass, Al.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised that you know where that tooth is from.” Vyx said, taking the tooth from his fingers and deftly stuffing it in a pocket. “But you’re right – that’s a catacombs original. No, for the record, I didn’t ask, and I’d appreciate not finding out any of my polycule are narcs.” They paused, giving everyone a look that said tattling would mean bad things. “But yeah, I rolled around in Paris for a bit before I came back stateside; mostly hung out with Martha Thompson? The redhead that went gaga for the French version of Molly since she couldn’t get the original?” They asked, and Vince nodded, clearly understanding who, exactly, they were talking about. Claire made a face that usually showed up on teachers or chaperones after hearing their charges talk about things they shouldn’t; it was a pursing of her lips and a furrowing of her brows that was her trying to decide if she should butt in and correct their language or not.

“Did she tell you that?” Claire asked, trying to suss out whether or not they were sharing business they shouldn’t, and Vyx shrugged, pulling out a giant jar of sauerkraut, which had no label besides a piece of masking tape with 04/08/24 written on it in a handwriting that wasn’t recognizable. The jar, however, was about as big as Vyx’s head, and they set it gently on the table.

“Look, if Martha didn’t want the world to know that she had been pining for Molly for like, ever, maybe she shouldn’t have gone and gotten engaged to the woman’s doppelganger—“

“Aa--!” Claire made a strange noise, almost panicked, cutting Vyx off. “Nobody’s a doppelganger. Don’t use that word. Jess might be a lot like Molly, but she isn’t a fuckin’ doppelganger and if you say that word around Molly she will kill you. Got me?” Claire warned, and Vyx put both hands up in the air, conceding the point. “And don’t be mean. Martha’s had it rough.”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean, it’s just the truth. Like, Claire, look at us. You think we get to talk about falling for the wrong person? That dingdong found every person who was gonna betray us and immediately fell head over heels, and while those aren’t my mistakes, I got to witness that train-wreck firsthand, twice.” Vyx rolled their eyes, pulling the last item from the box; it was a circular patch for a jacket, a skull and a rose in white on a black background, the rose petals a bloody red and the number seven stitched at the bottom. They quickly tucked that into a pocket, too. Some things weren’t for public consumption. “I’m just limited on how I can pick Martha specifically out of a lineup. Redheaded Malkavian is apparently an incredibly broad list, and adding British doesn’t make it smaller.”

“For the record, I didn’t know they were going to betray us. And technically neither of you had a choice.” Vince defended his partners, considering they were standing right there, but it didn’t seem like he needed to. Flidais was unperturbed, as she often was, clearly accepting the concept that she had, in fact, betrayed them; Al was still entirely too focused on the dagger, though his eyebrow raise at the mention of his betrayal said he wasn’t denying that it happened, either.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for the defense, wish it had happened like, ten years ago, but regardless,” Al said, holding up the dagger again as he waved off Vince’s defense. The other man’s face fell, just a little, at the dismissal, but Al didn’t notice, as he was full focused on the symbol for the dagger’s sheath. “Really, though: where did you get this? I know this house crest.”

“Oh, that’s from Vlad.” Vyx said, nonchalantly, closing the box up and pulling the key off their key-ring. It wasn’t worth keeping if they didn’t have the box anymore, after all. “I headed his way after I left London. Spent a day in Germany with Reinhardt – man’s a good cook, which is how I still have this massive thing of home-made sauerkraut—“ they tipped the jar around a little on the table, which was overly large and fairly full, “but then I rolled out to Vlad’s for a bit. Man’s lonely.”

“Does he know you have this?” Al asked, with serious concern in his voice. If Vyx was out, stealing from Vlad Dracul himself, they were going to have a problem. Vyx chuckled.

“I mean, it’s been like, what, three years? I’d hope he does.” They shook their head, stacking the chocolates on top of the jar as though to carry them. “Either way, I haven’t gotten any angry German letters, so I bet he’s chill that it’s here.” They shrugged, hefting the jar and chocolates into their arms. It was heavy, so they had to hold it just so. “Can you hold onto that for a second, though? This jar is hefty. Reinhardt thinks I can put food away like he does, even though he’s like twice my height and definitely twice my body mass.”

“Wait.” Donnie’s voice cut through the conversation; he’d been otherwise silent, as there hadn’t been much to say. What Vyx did in Europe was interesting, and while he was aware of who Martha was, he knew they’d regale him with proper stories once they weren’t pulling things out of a box. He was willing to wait – it would be less chaotic, too. But, standing outside the circle of people, away from the conversation, he’d heard something at the doors; it wasn’t people, there were plenty of people moving around, but something else, and his vampiric hackles had gone up at the sound. He stared at the door, the others watching him for a sign that he knew what was up, and then they all heard it.

The click was surprisingly loud against the hum of staffers conversing and moving items.  

“Move!” It was Al’s shout that broke the spell that had fallen over the group at the sound; for a moment, before he’d spoken, every eye had been turned to the front doors, the reality of the sound settling over the group like dust from the ceiling settling on their shoulders, a little at a time. The sound of something hard against the doors, the sound of footsteps, hushed voice behind the wall – it all pointed to the same thing, but it took people a moment to piece it all together. However, Al figured it out first, and his shout had the party turning back to the stairs with dawning horror, ducking away from the doors and running for a back conference room at full speed – which was a good thing, as only a moment later, the glass doors burst out in a fireball of an explosion, which rattled the building and pushed dust and smoke into the lobby, obscuring their view for a moment and filling the space with dust and heat. They were lucky; even with their vampiric constitutions, fire wouldn’t have done them any favors.  

“For fucks sake!” Claire snapped, coughing lightly at the dust in the air. She was still a ghoul, and breathing was still important for her, so the explosion had rocked her pretty hard. Back in the conference room, however, they were shielded from the worst of whatever the hell was happening outside – and from the yelling and the snarling, they could tell it was something. Molly’s office was under attack. “The hell was that?”

“C4, probably.” Al said, already pulling one of the SMGs he kept in a shoulder holster under one arm, checking the magazine and blowing dust from the sites. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t full of dust, but he’d manage. “That click was a blasting cap being primed, if my ears serve.”

“And you’d know a thing or two about C4.” Flidais added, her calm and deadpan delivery making what was probably meant to kind of be a joke almost feel like a barb to the chest, though Al brushed it off; his scowl was just from the fact that they’d been attacked, though it was clear her words weren’t kind. “So? What’s the plan?”

They all looked up as, suddenly, the lights went out with a loud thunk of the generator turning off. A moment passed, and then the room found itself lit in blood red, the emergency lights kicking back on. Claire groaned.

“Well, they’ve cut the power.” Claire groaned as she stated the obvious, gesturing to the ceiling where the lights should have been. “Probably tryin’ t’cut the cell tower more than anything. Can’t get the word out t’anyone if we don’t have data. Fuckers know how I work.” She sighed, pulling up her phone anyway and scowling at the no bars symbol at the top. The cell tower on top of Molly’s office was critical, as the building was otherwise a dead zone for data – they’d beefed with too many technologically savvy Tremere - and Claire had to run a world’s worth of people off of one cellphone. It helped keep costs down and connectivity up – but while the tower itself was hooked into the backup generator, the machines that processed it into useable data weren’t, for security reasons. Better that they could shut things down on a dime, even if it meant things could get shut down on a dime. “So we’ll need t’get that back up, at least. And we’ll want backup, if we can get it. Molly’s down south, and Ray’s with her, but there’s still a squad at the gym who can throw hands. I’m not really a fighter.”

“I can run to Swinging Bimbos.” Donnie quickly took charge of that part of the plan, feeling something in him that said it was go time and letting that boost his confidence. This was his town, and his boss; he wasn’t about to just let them do something like blow up his boss’s office building without some kind of retribution. And while Ray was out of pocket, he knew there would be enough Brujah to clear a building, and they’d hopefully listen to him. He was lucky, as he didn’t really use guns, so he was ready to go at a moment’s notice; the others were busy unzipping cases and pulling out rifles, though they weren’t going slowly.

“Take Flidais with you.” Vyx said, gesturing between the two of them as they stuffed rounds into a magazine for their rifle. They’d had Vince’s in the same case, so they’d loaded neither; it wouldn’t have been wise to keep a loaded rifle next to a loaded rifle with nothing to cushion between them. “She’s probably the fastest in the room, and definitely the most nimble, considering she can turn into blood and everything. Better we all travel in pairs so we don’t get picked off by whomever decided to be brave today. Besides, she’s not having to load rounds right now.” They didn’t have to ask – Flidais was already nodding along, rifle loaded and on her back, clearly understanding her role in the matter. She was easy, as long as she felt productive, and it wasn’t like she was specialized in a way they’d need otherwise. Her expertise were rifles, bombs, and body building, but not the kind that the gym offered. Vyx quickly turned to Al, and to April, who was the least armed, checking her own small pistol deftly, squinting between the two of them in consideration. Al didn’t like the way they smiled at whatever idea they had – it meant bad things, probably. At least for him. He’d been quickly learning their quirks, and a smile like that never worked out well. “Vince, you take Al up to the roof. There’s probably some kind of tower up there, right? Something we can hook a laptop into, bypass the systems with a hotspot?” They asked, and Claire nodded.

“Could work, long as your laptop battery lasts. We have a personal receiver, since we use so much damn data, and it’s powered by the backup generators, at least.” She nodded, but Al’s face was a face of protest, not acceptance, like he’d been asked to babysit someone he hated and he didn’t want to.

“Why not April?” He asked, gesturing to her, and April, for her part, shrugged, clearly unsure herself. Vyx crossed their arms.

“Well, one, you’re better with the technical side of things and this might take a hell of a beating to get it to work, so we need you where you’re best suited. Two, I’m not sending the least armed person in this room to the roof where she’s in danger.” They gestured to April’s weapon, a little three-burst pistol, which was clearly not as good at self-defense as Al’s SMGs. “Three, and most importantly, you and Vince are gonna have to be alone at some point, so we might as well get it the fuck over with.” Vyx waved a dismissive hand, as though to say there wasn’t any arguing, and Al sighed. Ultimately, he couldn’t argue with that – they were right. He’d have to have time with Vince before they were done, no matter what, and it was better to get it over with. It didn’t mean he had to like it. “Besides, April is coming with me; we’re gonna find a place upstairs to make into a command center with Claire. Help relay anything we find out, like who or what or why to the right people, without risking anyone getting shot. If you get data running again, we’ll be able to coordinate the gym bros better and get this sorted. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a terrible plan, but considering we didn’t expect to get attacked today, it’s probably the best we have.” Al shook his head, turning to Vince with a sour expression. He didn’t like getting forced into this, but they didn’t have any choices. Vince was, at least, armed again, holding his rifle in his hands in a way that said he remembered how to use it. “C’mon, Vince. Let’s get this over with.” Al said, heading for the door, and Vince followed, the pair disappearing quickly as they did so. Being able to just vanish was always a good thing, and it meant that they could sneak out without getting seen. Donnie watched the door for a moment, Flidais heading for it as well, ready to follow him to the gym.

“You think they’ll be okay?” He asked, turning to Vyx, who shrugged.

“I mean, if not, they’re gonna be not okay at some point regardless. It’s like throwing up at a party: if you’re gonna do it, might as well not hold off and make yourself miserable while you do. It’s not really any use waiting for it to happen naturally.” They sighed. “I’ll make it up to Al when we’re back on the road. Be safe, both of you. I don’t know what the hell’s out there, but you should be prepared for the worst.”

“Nothing we can’t handle, babe.” Donnie leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Vyx’s forehead, and they smiled happily in response. It was hard to be worried with Donnie’s confident affection, especially considering their other partners hadn’t killed him for it yet. He turned to Flidais, a woman he hadn’t really worked with yet, and she nodded, ready and raring to go. “Now, let’s go get some backup.”

~*~

They’d gotten out without getting seen, though in doing so, they’d seen the things that had attacked them, and Donnie was, honestly, a little worried about that. Flidais wasn’t, or at least, he wasn’t sure she was, as her face never really left stoic for anything less than actual disaster; it could have been that she was, in fact, scared, or it could have been that she didn’t give much of a shit about a pack of Garou attacking the front of Molly’s office; Donnie didn’t see her grip tighten on her rifle, or he would have realized that she was, in fact, a little worried. It helped, at least, that they seemed relatively ineffective – the staff had barricaded the doors with tables almost as soon as the dust had cleared, so the influx of werewolves into the building had been all but stilled immediately, pushed down to one or two instead of the pack that they’d intended. One pressed through as they passed, but only the one, and from the sounds inside, it wasn’t great for the Garou. Of course, it meant trying to exit the building was harder than anticipated, but Flidais was all but silent and Donnie knew how to move in his city without getting caught, so they got out and onto the street without any trouble.

“So, is the apathy just like, how your face works, or are werewolves a common thing for you people?” Donnie asked, once they’d gotten a decent bit away from the building. Swinging Bimbos was a little bit of a walk, and while he knew running would probably get them there faster, he wanted to save his energy. There was a possibility they were going to run, full pelt, back, so he maintained a half-jog instead, just faster than a powerwalk but something easy to maintain without needing to do something like use his stored vitae. Flidais kept pace easily, shifting her rifle to her back.

“Would you be surprised if I said werewolves weren’t uncommon, for us?” Flidais asked, her voice that constant monotone softness that erased any and all trace of emotion she had. It was almost uncanny, really; Donnie knew Tzimisce were cold, he’d spoken to Konrad Varnhagen once or twice, and he’d even spent a little time with Flidais, at the party. He was aware that being distant and cold was sort of their thing, moreso than other clans. But Konrad had made an attempt at a joke at least once; Flidais didn’t seem like the joking type, not really, and that meant her statement chilled Donnie down to the bone.

“I’m not really surprised by much when Vyx is concerned.” Donnie replied, taking a turn down an alley. It wasn’t necessarily a shortcut, but it would get them to a different path where he was less worried about being seen. There were others, he could tell, the smell of werewolf now on the breeze – once they’d stepped outside, he could tell what they were dealing with from the smell alone, as Garou always brought the stink of dog in a way Gangrel somehow avoided – and he was worried about intercepting their backup before they got his. “They haven’t told me, much, though I know a few things, and I think they may have lied about a couple others. So you’re still a mystery. How did you get mixed up in all of this?” He asked. Flidais turned to him, and for a moment, her expression was something sad, a flicker of a frown with real emotion on her face. It almost hurt more to see it.

“I was a Malkavian, once; a ghoul.” She said, and she said it with such a lack of passion that it was almost painful, and Donnie felt himself almost wince. He could tell he was in for a hell of a story. “My domitor killed the local Archon and was executed for it. Vince took me in.” She paused, something reverent about the way she said Vince’s name, like he was truly the one that hung the moon, even if she didn’t particularly care about the moon at large. “Konrad kidnapped me in June of 2016. He had made… edits to me, over the years, some at my request. At the time, I thought he was fixing me.” She paused, this time in her walking, looking down at the form of her body with a furrowed brow and a frown – but she didn’t pause long. “Getting what he’d promised hadn’t made me feel much better, as he sired me with it, and I hardly had time to get used to the body before he did.”

“Oh shit, you’re really Konrad’s childe?” Donnie asked, because that was definitely a surprise. He’d heard a story that had implied such, but he’d hardly believed it, though he knew Konrad had childer, probably, somewhere – vampires simply didn’t get that old without siring someone. There were too many expectations regarding legacy and living past one’s own means that a Kindred without at least one childe was an exception and not necessarily a rule. Often, the only ones without childer were either young, or the lowest level grunts who were more replaceable than desirable as a sire. “I can see the resemblance.” Donnie tried the joke, the fact that both were incredibly cold people, but the look Flidais gave him – a set of raised eyebrows – said that maybe the joke got intercepted by something and didn’t quite land.

“I wouldn’t doubt that.” Flidais replied, pausing at a corner and peering around it to be sure it was safe. “After he sired me, he attempted to kill Vince. It was part of a ritual to try and raise Cain from the dead. Unfortunately for Konrad, not only is Cain not dead, my beast wasn’t entirely happy that he’d tried to kill Vince.” She looked down at Donnie with a face that said her next words were entirely serious even if they didn’t sound believable. “In a frenzy, I ripped his throat out with my teeth and diablrized him.”

“Shit,” was all Donnie could say. He’d been told the story before, once by Vyx and referenced, again, at the party, but it wasn’t the most important thing they’d said in that conversation and it was still startling to hear the same story from Flidais, a third time, because it meant it was absolutely true. The first time, he’d dismissed it; the second, he’d thought it was some kind of private joke they had. Apparently, this was really what happened.

“Lucky for him, he wasn’t easy to keep down. We ended up sharing the body for a few years while Greensboro sorted itself out. After the war, and after Vince died, Molly separated us. I’ve been told I had a decent influence on him, and that he’s had no small influence on me. But that’s what you’d expect from sharing a body for a few years.” She shrugged, starting back off, and Donnie followed her, matching her pace quickly. She’d said quite a lot of things and he was still processing most of them, even if he’d heard some of the story before.

“Vyx mentioned that, once, and I think you did, too, but I just didn’t think Konrad was the kind of guy that would let himself get eaten.” Donnie said, addressing the thing that was in front of his face. There were other things he had to process through, but they could be thought about later – like her implications that Cain wasn’t dead but was up and about somewhere, doing something. He was a little uneasy with how close half of his new friends were to very powerful people. “Even hearing it from them, and then from you, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it outright the first time. It seemed… unreal.”

“That’s how Vince always was.” Flidais said, and something like a smile ghosted her face, for just a moment. There was something deep, buried in her, that loved Vince so fiercely that even the blood couldn’t stop it. “I’d talk to him about his involvement yourself, at some point. If you think Vyx tells wild tales, Vince has a few that put them to shame.” She shook her head, the smile fading rapidly as her thoughts turned from Vince to anything else. “Have they mentioned the name Eldest, yet? Since you’ve heard some stories.”

“Yeah, once.” Donnie furrowed his brow, looking up at Flidais with concern. Whatever it was that she was getting to, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. Flidais turned away from him, and he could see the very slight smirk on her face as they ducked around another corner, heading back to the street proper from their back alley shortcut. “Why?”

“Considering you’re asking why, they clearly didn’t tell you who Eldest was.” Flidais rolled her eyes at Vyx’s lack of details, her face back to being as stoic as it usually was. “Vince met her, back when he was Kine. He told me the story, once he’d remembered it. Said he’d met a young, homeless woman outside a bar. He offered her a cigarette, and a drink, though she declined, saying she couldn’t go into the speakeasy he’d found, but she wouldn’t explain why. Next thing he said he knew, he’d woken up in Statesville. Said she’d given him a full transfusion, ‘cause another Kindred had tried to eat him and she’d decided he was worth sparing. She did take his memory of the whole experience, which meant we didn’t learn about his bond until right up at the end, but she never attacked him when he didn’t know.”

“Vyx had said that altruism sort of felt like friendship.” Donnie added, recalling the little they’d said about Eldest. Whomever she was, the woman seemed like a decent enough person to know, and the transfusion filled a bunch of holes in Donnie’s head about how they’d access a discipline they otherwise couldn’t have learned. “I figure Eldest was a really old Tzimisce? Since you all apparently know every powerful Kindred still alive?” Donnie’s tone was almost sarcastic, definitely joking, though he was serious about the guess. It was just getting funny, how many powerful people they’d met. Flidais’s smirk returned, just for a second, and that took the wind out of Donnie’s sails.

“You could say that.” She said, giving Donnie a quick look like she was judging how long to wait before she spoke again, in order to maximize impact. “Eldest was Tzimisce. That’s why she was Eldest – there wasn’t anyone older. She was our antediluvian.” Flidais let the words linger, and Donnie paused in walking, making her pause as well.

“I’m sorry – what?” He asked. It was one thing to think that Vince had met a very old Kindred, as they’d already done that dance before and he knew that was entirely possible; they were casual about Vlad Dracul himself, after all. But an antediluvian was a bigger deal than just any old Kindred, as Donnie was pretty sure most of their clan heads were dead and gone. Flidais turned to watch him, and there, that smile on her face that said she was enjoying dumping the news on him was the first real smile he’d seen, besides when she spoke about Vince, and something in him realized quickly why Vince loved her so much. The smile was her old personality, before the blood, breaking through, and if that was Flidais from before, no wonder Vince adored her. Donnie would have felt more affectionate towards her if she hadn’t been directing her teasing at him.

“Vince gave the Tzimisce antediluvian a cigarette. She saved his life from another Kindred, gave him a blood transfusion – which did count as a blood bond, mind you, so he was bonded to her – and then left him in Statesville. That’s why Vyx and Vince both can bend bone. It’s also why Vince couldn’t join us in the final battle – she could have told him to kill us and he couldn’t have disobeyed.” Flidais shrugged, letting Donnie jog to catch up to her, the look of shock still on his face. “Luckily, dying seemed to erase that, far as Konrad could tell. And she’s dead, anyway.”

“How are you people real?”

This actually got Flidais to laugh, and if Donnie hadn’t been half-panicked from the shock of learning that his partner had, at one point, been part of a man who had been blood bound to one of the most powerful Kindred possible to meet, who was also dead, and likely by their hands, too, he would have enjoyed the sound more. It was a nice laugh, all things considered. “I’ve asked myself that question more than once.” She said, shaking her head. Donnie could tell from the way the smile lingered that she was thinking of Vince. “But it’s what happens when you treat Kindred with kindness. They’re so used t’being against other people that most will crumple if you actually do something nice for them.” She turned to Donnie, giving him a look that said that, too, felt unbelievable, but she’d witnessed it enough times that she couldn’t discount it. “That’s how he managed to convince most people the world was ending – by being kind.” She turned back to where they were walking, and the smile quickly faded from her face. “Speaking of convincing people, I think that’s your gym.”

They’d found themselves in front of the same gym Vyx had crashed in front of, years before, and honestly, nothing had changed in the in-between. That was what they got for having a Kindred as the owner – most Kindred found change, especially change caused by the march of time, an anathema, especially when they themselves didn’t change at all, let alone as rapidly as time did. Donnie quickly moved past the windowless front, heading to the side door and all but kicking the thing open, ready to be well received and bring the party back to Claire, as requested.

He didn’t expect the lack of familiar faces, and he sure as she didn’t expect to be stared at.

“Lively bunch.” Flidais intoned, in a way that said she was also expecting maybe something a bit more joyous and was a bit surprised that his reaction was more confusion instead. Donnie quickly scanned the faces – mostly new, though he spotted one regular, a Brujah named Leo he’d hung out with previously – turning to Leo like he was a lifeline in a sea of weird.

“Leo, get the van started. We gotta run.” He said, his tone commanding, and Leo let the weights he was using down gently, pressing himself up from the bench. Short and squat, Leo didn’t look much like the rest of the Brujah in the room – the others were all highly muscled, though Donnie knew that, if they’d been Kine, they wouldn’t have been able to lift much at all; vanity muscles didn’t actually do work well, and they were all toned, showy muscle and very little else. One of the other Brujah – younger, feistier looking, someone Donnie hadn’t met and who looked like he at least admired the look of the guys off Jersey Shore – threw his weights to the floor, letting the sound echo and stopping Leo in his tracks as he did.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked, cracking his neck like he thought he was hot shit. “Comin’ into the gym like you own the fucking place, givin’ us orders. Bet you’re some uppity neonate, thinks he’s hot shit.” The other Brujah cracked his knuckles, posturing. Donnie groaned – they didn’t have time for this.

“Leo, get the fucking van started.” He said, again, this time more exhausted. He turned to the other Brujah, hardly feeling the need to posture – he knew it wasn’t necessary; those that felt the need to show off never had the capacity to show up, after all – giving the other a steely glare. “And I’m the guy Claire just sent down here, ‘cause there’s werewolves attacking Molly’s office. That’s who. Now, are we doing this the easy way, or the hard way?” Donnie asked, serious. They didn’t have time for this, and they could posture it out in the van on the way. But the other Brujah only laughed, which, admittedly, the line was a bit cheesy, but Donnie was being too serious to care.

“Claire woulda texted me if there was trouble.” They cackled, stepping up closer to Donnie, trying to circle him. Flidais didn’t let him, unmoving, her resting bitch face making the other Brujah pause in his circling to go the other way. “She wouldn’t need t’send some uppity thin blood and his scary bitch,” He looked to Flidais, the insult gendered on purpose, “just to come get us.”

“You know, his arms would be good decorations. Not like they’re doing him much now.” Flidais said, and her deadpan tone at least had some of the other new Brujah considering their options. Leo shook his head, realizing that this was going to be a push-pull regardless, moving to the back to go get the van ready. By the time things got sorted, they’d need to run. Several of the others decided it was better to just follow the older man’s lead, leaving Donnie with the new guy and a few of his more die-hard cronies. Of course he would have cronies – men with little power often surrounded themselves with others so they felt like they had some.

“I got it, Flid.” Donnie held up a hand, her threat unnecessary – though it was funny, at least. The other Brujah scoffed.

“Yeah, call your weird bitch off, pretend like you don’t need her t’save your ass.” They stepped up, again, this time within grabbing distance of Donnie, trying the thing weak men often did where he pressed himself so close that Donnie could smell his rank breathe, almost nose to nose. Like the idea that they might get closer, like they might kiss, should frighten Donnie somehow. It didn’t – though, Donnie wouldn’t have made out with the man anyway, not without a breath mint, as he smelled like protein powder and Axe body spray – and Donnie didn’t even blink at the sudden closeness. “Give me one good reason why I listen to your punk ass and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Donnie didn’t hesitate, giving only a shrug of okay, sure, before slamming his head forward into the other Brujah’s skull. The issue with posturing so close, of course, was that he’d gotten within smashing distance, and clearly, he’d been too up his own ass to realize he’d stepped into the splash zone. Skull met skull, and predictably, the other Brujah reeled, stepping back like he could probably regain balance before finding that fact false and toppling to the floor, splayed out on his back. Donnie put his hands on his hips.

“That good enough, or do you want me to make more of a point?” Donnie asked, looking down at the man, before scanning the other faces. They seemed suitably shocked, and a couple seemed cowed. “Claire didn’t text you ‘cause the cell tower’s gone out, idiot. That’s why she sent me. Just ‘cause I spent the past couple years in a different city doesn’t mean this wasn’t my gym and my crew. So step up or I’ll make sure the Big Guy ships you out to somewhere fucking boring.” Donnie growled the threat out, the idea that this would be boring worse than anything else; a tough situation would only give the man a good reason to fight, and often, which Donnie figured he wanted. Boring meant they’d do nothing for days on end, and clearly, the threat held.

“Alright, Jesus.” The Brujah pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his head with the back of his wrist. The head butt had, unfortunately for him, left a mark. “I’ll listen this time. But if you want control of this gym again, you’ll have t’fight me, one on one, fair like.” He added, trying to save face. Donnie scoffed.

“I’m willing to push your ass into the ground any day of the week, kid.” He snapped, and that threat seemed to wilt the other Brujah instead of embolden him. Sure, he thought he could take Donnie, but the fact that Donnie didn’t seem to give a shit took the wind from his sails.

“Name’s Casey.” The Brujah, Casey, seemed to take the most issue with being called kid, and Donnie chuckled at the mild protest. He’d gone from thinking he was hot shit to thinking less of himself in only moments, and it was almost hilarious if they hadn’t been in a rush.

“Fine, Casey. I’ll fight you. But after we’re done here, and only after you gain a sense of self preservation. Molly would rip me a new one if I kept killing her neonates. Now get in the damn van.” Donnie pointed at the back door, the name drop solidifying his station in a way that couldn’t be doubted, and the others slowly filed towards the back, grumbling all the way about his apparent hostile takeover. He sighed, watching Casey slink back with them, his tail between his legs as he did so, hands in his pockets. “At least they’ll get to blow off that steam on a werewolf.”

“He needed it.” Flidais said, turning to follow Donnie as he, too, headed for the van. It wouldn’t do to make him run the whole way back; he’d thought they might, sure, but since the van worked, he wanted to save his energy for the fight. Plus, he wasn’t about to show up late. “I would have taken his jaw for talking back.” She added. Donnie winced.

“That sounds like a thing Konrad would do.” He said, pushing through the various back doors until he was outside, at the van, where the others were piling into the back. Leo already had it running, the window down and his one arm hanging out of it, a cigarette in his hands.

“It is.” Flidais didn’t elaborate, just confirming that Konrad did, in fact, do exactly that thing once, before hopping up onto the back of the van. “Shall we?” She asked. Donnie nodded, dismissing the thought of Konrad ripping someone’s jaw off for disobedience and hopping onto the back. There were too many Kindred in the van to actually shut the thing, but they’d ridden with the doors open before, and as long as everyone hung on tightly, there wouldn’t be any issues. He held on, smacking the side of the van hard, twice, to let Leo know he was in, and the engine started off without a beat of hesitation.

He just hoped the whole incident didn’t mean they’d all be late.

~*~

The elevators didn’t work, so they’d had to take the stairs, and the walk up the twenty stories was, much to Vince’s distaste, silent.

Al didn’t say a word the entire time, holding his SMG loosely next to him and taking the stairs like he had suddenly realized that no longer breathing meant not needing to breathe hard from all the walking, and Vince followed as best he could. He didn’t press as they passed door after door onto new floors, and he didn’t press as they made it to the roof, nor did he press as Al found the tower – it wasn’t hard, tall and extremely visible, nestled between a bank of HVAC units that weren’t on, considering it was mid-winter – and settled in next to it, plugging his laptop into the side and typing something quickly. Vince didn’t even press as he found himself a place to settle, lowering his rifle over the side and sighting one of the Garou on the ground floor. They were tiny pinpricks at that distance, but he, at least, had a scope – thanks to, of all people, Al.

“We’re going to have to talk about this at some point.” Vince said, finally, once they’d both gotten into a rhythm and had continued in silence through it all. His words were met with only the clack of Al’s keyboard. “Vyx isn’t going to let us back on the bus until we do.”

“I don’t know what they think we have to talk about.” Al said, and his tone was bitter like black coffee, and clearly, just the sound of his own voice was enough of a point to answer his question. He sighed. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Tell them that.” Vince replied, looking over his shoulder for just a moment before resighting a wolf and pulling the trigger. He only just heard the sharp yelp of a dog from below to signal he’d managed a hit. It wasn’t a kill shot, but injuries were injuries, regardless. His skills weren’t great, but he wasn’t that bad of a shot. Even if he’d only learned how to fire a gun in 2016. “Or tell me what’s bothering you. Those are the options. Unless getting left behind in NYC is something you wanna entertain.”

“The list of things that bother me is much longer, Vince.” Al said, barely taking his eyes away from the screen, but he could feel something building in him that just wanted to go. Whether that was over the side of the roof, down the stairs, or off, he couldn’t be sure. “You are at the top, for the record.”

“See, that’s why we gotta talk about this.” Vince said, turning again to Al, and only turning back to the rifle when Al gave him a scathing look. His job was mostly to stop people getting to Al, and they were at the top of a tall building; he didn’t have anything else to do, not unless one of them started climbing the walls. He checked, found he didn’t have a target, and pulled back again. “’Cause as far as I know, I haven’t done anything else wrongand what I have done, I’ve been punished for. And since we’re going to be in close proximity, we can’t just let this sit and fester.” Vince turned back, again, to see Al’s face staring at him like Al had briefly considered throwing him from the top and hadn’t fought back the urge enough yet to take it off the table. Apparently, Vince had decided for him that the direction he was going was off.

“Vince, you realize that the shit you did doesn’t stop being fucking awful just because you think you’ve been punished already.” Al snapped, typing away furiously, but it was clear Vince had managed to loosen the valve on Al’s issues enough to make him snap. Vince didn’t have to say anything else, as like escaping steam, the words just started out of Al at a quick clip. “But, sure, since you want to do this right now, let me list all the ways you’ve ruined my life, just for the record. So we’re all on the same page.” Al resisted the urge to slam his laptop closed – it would have been dramatic, but he needed to keep running the connection program and it didn’t run while the laptop was off – setting it down to let it do its thing instead and turning to Vince with a look of fury. “Honestly, first things first, dating me was sure a fucking choice. I’m god damn lucky Pip saw the value in us staying together and didn’t beat me to a pulp more than once for it.”

“You were the one that kissed me.” Vince returned fire, turning back around to face that look of fury, straight down the barrel. Al didn’t flinch, though the confidence had him a little on edge; Vince, before, would have shrunk, looked guilty, at least, but this Vince didn’t. This Vince had lived through dying, after all – confidence had arrived and he wielded it like it was second nature. “And you never said Pip hurt you. How the hell was I supposed to know that?”

“I don’t know, Vince, maybe it was the fact that he was trying to raise Lillith to curse her existence and destroy all vampires including himself.” Al’s snarl was pointed, and he expected Vince to shrink, and he didn’t, which only made Al madder. “If you think a guy willing to kill himself to get rid of the shit that wronged him wouldn’t smack his ghouls around, you’re an idiot.” Al shook his head, dismissing the images that surfaced in his brain at the thought; Pip, looming over him, crossbow in one hand and the horrible, plague doctor’s mask staring down at him with unblinking, unfeeling rage behind it. Al shivered. Pip didn’t hurt him that often, and the times he had, Al had rationalized the incidents away as something he’d caused – but that moment, that one moment, he hadn’t blamed himself. He couldn’t – Vince was the one good thing to happen to him, and if he’d blamed himself for that choice, he would have crumbled. He would have doubted every good thing he’d ever done for himself and fallen further into despair than he already had.

“Oh, speaking of being an idiot, then we have the fact that you got me pregnant!” The fury redoubled, Al quickly turning back to his computer to select a few things and keep it running. The pause wasn’t long enough to reply, and Al kept going unabated. “And that’s from someone who didn’t have a uterus. I’d gotten that removed! So not only did I have to deal with being pregnant for a bit, then I had to have a fucking Antribu Toreador drag that out of me a second fucking time – cause apparently, you fucked up the other notable flesh-crafter we know, thanks – and then we had to fucking live with that damn ghoul of yours for the whole nine months! Oh, and of course I wasn’t allowed to just ignore it, no, I had to experience a sympathetic pregnancy with it. I was miserable and it was because you were too stupid to realize that Fae don’t give a shit about what’s possible, they’ll make it possible.” Al crossed his arms, watching Vince line up another shot and pull the trigger. Something howled below. “Oh, and then there was having to watch that ghoul die – it could have been me, mind you – and then dispose of her, after watching the baby, that smug bitch that you made a deal with, and your fucking prize you traded for waltz the fuck back out like no big deal and leave us alone in that house.”

“I’ve said I was sorry, Al. I can’t undo what’s already done.” Vince tried, but Al wasn’t really listening anymore, having started off on a tear and not finding any reason to stop. Vince’s words hardly registered, as he was too consumed in listing off all the bullshit they’d been through.

“Not to mention, you didn’t come get me when I finally decided to leave Pip. No, Dan Motherfucking Nelson, the laziest son of a bitch I have ever met, had to be the one to come fucking get me. Dan! Do you know how fucking bullshit it is that the guy who won’t get out of bed for anything less than a box of truffles had to be the one to come find me and not my husband?” Al threw his hands up, and he didn’t see the look of hurt Vince had on his face at the way he said the word husband, like the moniker was the invitation of a curse and not one of the best things that had happened to them. “Oh! And then you died! You died and you broke my fucking heart and then you didn’t come back for ten god damn years and now you’re sitting there trying to pretend like the world didn’t move on without you while you were wandering the spirit doing Cain knows what!”

“I was talking to my dead dad, I’ll have you know.” The voice that came out of Vince was low, hurt, punished and beaten and standing back up with the power of something like friendship and something like rage, the protagonist in Vince’s veins finally receiving the gift they needed to punch back hard, and Al almost reeled from the tone. He’d expected that he’d list off the atrocities, get an apology, have a quick chat about change, and Vince would move on with things, still angry and still seething but able to be cordial enough for Vyx’s sake – but this was unexpected. “But hey, you’ve been so wrapped up in your perspective of things you clearly didn’t think about other people, which is very you, Al.” Vince set his rifle down, turning around to face Al properly. “So let me elucidate you a bit on my side of this sordid story. Cause I found this guy, right? And boy, was I in a terrible place, considering my girlfriend had been kidnapped, changed against her will, consumed her sire in a rage and then booked it like she had a late train to fucking catch. And then this guy, who I only sort of liked at the time, kissed me and now I’m finding out that apparently, that was my fault. What, am I being punished because you can’t tell the difference between me and Misha?”

“You keep his name out of your fucking mouth—“ Al started, real anger there. Misha, his first husband, from the ‘40s, was not a subject he liked broaching, let alone like this, but Vince laughed, loudly, at the words, cutting Al off.

“Or what, Al?” Vince asked, snappy and bitter. “You gonna kill me? Damn, you just got me back and you’re already threatening me again. I know you won’t though – you like my other half way too much and we both know if you kill me that’s over.” Vince shook his head, leaning forward with his elbows on his crisscrossed knees. “But I date this guy anyway, right, ‘cause he’s a mess and he needs a guiding hand, and the entire time, I have this sneaking sensation that he’s lying to me constantly. But it’s nothing I have evidence for, right, ‘cause he’s a spy so he’s good at that shit, so I’m trapped between being mistrustful of my own spouse and not being able to prove why. The gymnastics I did to ignore that were intense. Do you know how much that sucks?” Vince put both hands out, a weird bid for connection in their shared anger. “Especially ‘cause I was the only one willing to defend you! No one likes your stupid fucking persona, Al, and I know that’s kind of the point but do you know how fucking hard it is to constantly defend someone who’s so impalpable to be around that the Tremere doesn’t want any of it?”

“I didn’t ask you to defend me.” Al’s tone was bitter, harsh, but almost guilty; he’d never asked for any of the things Vince was blaming him for, after all. Vince laughed, this time less loud and less cackling and more a bitter, sad thing.

“No, you just put me in between you and them and let me take all the bullets meant for you instead, just so you could tell me later that you never asked.” Vince shook his head, waving the digression off. “You knew I wouldn’t fucking stop defending you once I started, and you took advantage of that, which is what characterized our entire relationship. You constantly and consistently manipulated me, from the moment we met, for your gains or Pip’s gains and never with mine in mind. And then! You betrayed us! Not only that, you pointed a gun at the one person who thought you were an irredeemable piece of shit and her loyal-dog of a boyfriend and you’re surprised they still hate you?!” Vince leaned back against the low wall that surrounded the top of the roof, looking at Al with an expression that was almost incredulous. “You know what that put me through, Al? Everyone hated me. Because I had an inkling, a Malkavian driven, facts-light, gut feeling that you weren’t on our side, and because I didn’t tell them immediately and let them kill you, oh, back in May of 2018 when I’d realized it, I spent a half hour having everyone I’d ever been friends with ripping me a new asshole. I didn’t point a finger at you and go I think Al’s going to betray us and didn’t let them put you in the dirt for it and that made me just as bad as you. Because you couldn’t keep your double-crossing bullshit under wraps until the end, I was punished.” Vince paused, his voice shifting to something more somber, more sad. “I almost left them, Al. I almost walked away. I know it’s hard for you to conceptualize, ‘cause you never actually let anyone be your friend, but losing every single person you’ve ever liked in one fell swoop? I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“I didn’t know.” Al replied, and there was something soft to his tone, too. Now that the anger had been let out, there wasn’t anything left, just sadness, and softness, and somberness. Both of them fucked up, and it was clear enough now that neither were blameless for their actions. Al had been an asshole and made Vince’s life harder than necessary; Vince had made poor choices that made Al’s life harder than necessary. Vince shook his head.

“You never asked.” He said, turning to Al with anger, still, just softer, quieter. It was a brooding anger, one that had settled into his being over a long time. “And apparently, not knowing or not asking isn’t something that will absolve you of your fucking sins, right? Or do the rules only apply to me?” Vince found himself snapping again, and he exhaled, turning back to his rifle. He had to blow off steam, and putting some rounds into some werewolves was a good way to do it. The rifle crack was quick, and the yelp was quicker.

Silence settled between them, and there was hurt to that quiet, but it wasn’t an active hurt. It was the sore pain felt after one had been hurting for a while, and the real pain had left, but the echoes of that pain remained. The imprint of hurt left in the sand of their lives, even if the pain had walked away. Eventually, Al sighed, something sad and heavy and tired.

“I’m sorry, Vince.” He said, and Vince turned, and there were words on his lips, and Al could feel the phrase and the way he was going to say it, the bitter and hurt sass in his tone, so Al put up a hand to cut him off. “And I know! I know! It doesn’t fix it. I know. But you should hear it anyway.” He said, and Vince pressed his lips together in a thin line, his eyes watching Al closely for a long second, before he nodded in acceptance of that and turned back to fire another shot. He could handle hearing it, as long as Al knew it didn’t undo things. That’s what Al had told him before, after all. He’d never accepted a sorry. Al let the silence linger, again, hesitant to move forward for risk of the pain, as it seemed any movement would. “So, is this it, then? We’re just going to hate each other for the rest of eternity?”

“I don’t hate you, Al.” Vince said, turning back from the rifle with a look on his face that was sadder than it was angry. “I’ve never hated you. But you spent our time together destroying everything you touched. It was like… like Pip’s influence over you was an acid, and everything you had in your hands melted, eventually. And it sucked to be dissolved like that, Al.” Vince paused, turning back to the rifle, following the werewolves with the scope but not firing. “The man who died wasn’t me, anymore. He was a hollow shell and there wasn’t anything left. Just a soul made of swiss cheese and nothing but glimpses of a woman on the stairs and the smell of petrichor on a battlefield. You can’t make a man out of that, not anymore.” Vince didn’t turn, but his back hunched, a question in his shoulders that Al could see. “Did you shoot me, Al?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Vince nodded, breathing in, deeply, once, and then breathing back out. He didn’t need it, but it felt good to do. “I didn’t think you did, but I had to ask.” He paused, again, letting the silence settle, letting it linger. He needed to get comfortable with silence, because part of his brain itched to fill it with something and he couldn’t live that life for eternity. He was a talker, but he had to learn to rest. “I think we’re not good for each other, Al. Not as we are.”

“No shit.” Al turned back to the laptop, starting back on his typing, the program having finished running and needing his further attention. “I’m surprised we both didn’t end up dead, like some fucked up, gay as shit Romeo and Juliet deal.”

“More Twelfth Night now, but that’s neither here nor there.” Vince actually chuckled, and something about the sound of his laugh actually brought a smile to Al’s face for all of a second, which was more than he’d expected. “But I think… I think we bring out the worst in each other.” Vince added, turning back from the rifle and letting it sit on the ledge again. “I think there’s a version of you in there that I still love, but I think you’ve stomped that version of you down into the dust to keep it safe from my bullshit. And I hope there’s a version of me you still love, somewhere in here. I don’t know where it is – dying sort of rearranges you a bit, y’know – but I want to try and find it, if it’s something you want. But those versions of us aren’t here, right now, and the versions of us that are aren’t compatible.”

“So then, we, what? Don’t date?” Al asked, softly. The idea that they might actually move past things was, well, not something Al had ever pictured. He’d expected Vince to hate him, and reject him, and leave him again, like he’d done before. He’d expected they’d get cordial and then they’d drift and he’d end up alone, again, without him, like they had done before. This was different, and new, and strange, and he wasn’t sure how to advance. Vince shrugged.

“Yeah. Just… be friends.” Vince tried, and he didn’t hate the words. He still loved Al, and that was clear, but he loved Al like clownfish loved anemones – carefully and with a lot of protection before they tried again. He had to remain guarded, before they started off on the same bad roads, but there was a way they could try a second time, he knew. Something in him knew, in the same way he’d always known what Al was really thinking. “If being friends does something else, then we’ll sort that as it happens. But just… friends, right now. We have enough partners between us, we don’t have to make out.” Vince chuckled, and that actually got a chuckle out of Al.

“We’ll see how well that goes, but… I’d give it a try.” Al sighed, clicking around a little and finding the thing he needed. He was almost up and ready. “I am sorry, Vince. I’m sorry I put you in positions you didn’t deserve.”

“Hey, I had time to think when I was dead, and I’m pretty sure it’s mostly Pip’s fault. Like yeah, you did some shit and that sucks, but ultimately, Pip’s to blame and you did gift him a rocket to the face, so.” Vince shrugged, leaning back on the wall again, watching Al work like he was debating saying something and wasn’t sure if he should. “Speaking of dead people, when I was dead, I… it was complicated, but I got to talk to Misha.” He paused, letting Al look up from the computer, letting the shock of it roll across Al’s face in a wave. Misha was, as far as either were aware, eighty years dead at least. Al watched Vince for a long, long second, unblinking, before the man continued. “He, uh. Well, I know your dead-name now, if you need proof of that, ‘cause he called you by it, but… he was pretty cool with your updated pronouns, and he wanted me to tell you he still loved you. And that he was proud of you, for everything. I did kinda tell him you saved the world.”

“You lied to my dead husband?” Al asked, and there was something in the tone that was part asshole persona, but there was also kind of a joke in there, too, and shock that Vince would think such a thing, and Vince pushed himself up from the place he’d sat, heading over to sit next to Al on the roof. Al didn’t lean onto him, and he was okay with that. “I can’t believe you told Misha I saved the world.”

“I would never lie to him.” Vince joked back, and that got a real laugh out of Al, something bright and happier. “You were the last piece, Al. If you hadn’t come back, I don’t know if we would have won. We wouldn’t have been prepared. You helped save the world, and I just told him the truth.” Vince paused, curling his knees to his chest and waiting a long second before speaking again. “He wanted you to be happy. He didn’t seem to mind if it was with me, or him, or anyone. I told him I’d do my best to make you happy, and I’m sorry I apparently failed.”

“I was happy, Vince. I was as happy as I was gonna get.” Al said, opening up a messenger program and sending a quick message to Claire through it. As soon as it cleared, he would know the data was good again. “I was in an abusive mentorship with an undead hunter hell bent on killing an entire community ‘cause they were a net bad, having spent the first fucking sixty years of my life working alone as a spy. Having anyone on my side was a delight. I’m sorry I didn’t show my appreciation, much.”

“Hey, you could have shot me and you didn’t. We take that, here.” Vince shook his head, leaning over just slightly to bump Al’s shoulder with his own. “I still love you, even if we’re just friends. I’ll always love you. But I can’t keep loving the part of you that you won’t show anyone else, because it makes us both look like assholes and we can’t have two.”

“I’ll work on it.” Al shook his head – it wasn’t a lie, but he wasn’t about to just shake being an asshole, either; it was too helpful to keep up - watching the message ping through and sighing. “Data’s back up. I have to hang here to monitor it, but Claire can coordinate, now. You should probably get back to shooting. Donnie’s probably almost back.” Al said, but he leaned over, bumping Vince’s shoulder, once, as the man got up. Vince stopped where he stood, looking down at the blond man beneath him. “So… we’re okay?” Al asked, looking up. Vince nodded.

“As okay as we’re gonna get, I think. Which is better than what we were before.” He said, moving back to his rifle and taking up the position. “Luckily, when you’ve hit rock bottom and not okay, the only place to go is back to being okay again, y’know? Nowhere to go but up.” He turned his head, giving Al a cheeky grin, and Al rolled his eyes.

“Oh good, we’re back to the weird shit. Missed that.” He said, but he smiled all the same, seeing Claire’s excited series of thumbs up on the messenger app that told him she had gotten the message. Perfect. Now all he had to do was chill. Chill, and figure his shit out. But the world seemed a little less dark, at least.

It felt good to be okay. He’d take that.

~*~

A werewolf’s head exploded in a shower of viscera and blood. Vyx threw the bolt, roughly, and sited another head.

They’d found a room on the 5th floor that seemed appropriate enough, and Claire had set up what she called her mobile command center from there. It was just her laptop and her phone, of course, but it wasn’t the size of the command center that mattered, anyway – she could do anything she needed from what she had, and that was what really mattered. Once Al finished his job, her phone would act like a mobile hotspot, and then she could run just about anything she needed from her computer; her messages, her calendars, her contacts, all of it was synced, so she could access it from anywhere, and she knew all her people could see it, too. April sat at her computer, running a program she’d installed from a flash drive that was supposed to help; not necessarily against the lack of power, but against the techomancy that had been employed to put them in that position in the first place.

“You alright?” Claire asked of Vyx, watching out of the window as they splattered another wolf’s brains on the sidewalk. Being on the 5th floor, their distance was much less and their accuracy was much greater, though the Garou kept on coming all the same. They were prepared, and their numbers weren’t small – dozens lingered outside the doors, and many had already entered the building, not to mention backup that was very likely incoming. Donnie needed to hurry. “You’re throwin’ that bolt kinda hard.”

“This just isn’t exactly how I expected the first stop on our road-trip vacation to go.” Vyx grumbled, lining up another shot. They could see another group of Garou heading in from around the corner, and they quickly switched focus, taking out the lead before they could regroup. They weren’t really doing much to thin numbers, but they were sure as shit keeping the others occupied. “Yeah, let’s go have a relaxing, bonding roadtrip. Whoops, nope, never mind! Here’s fuckin’ werewolves!” They groaned, taking out another wolf’s knees and watching them collapse.

“Vyx, you know what Vince went through, right?” April asked, from the computer, typing away. Vyx had no idea what she was doing – the computer screen looked like that hacker-typer website Vince had visited once or twice in his youth, which was to say it looked like bullshit, but they weren’t sure if that was the blood or just reality – but they also didn’t really care. Hacking was her thing, and Al’s thing, though probably not their collective thing together. April didn’t seem like she was much into anyone else in the polycule, probably for the best. Closing off a group like that into a complete circle was a bad idea – something about echo chambers and making an inner and an outer group that Vyx wasn’t really into.

“I was there for every millisecond, questioning every decision he made. Well, kinda. I was also barely cognizant.” Vyx shrugged, pulling back from the window to pull the magazine from the rifle, pulling a bunch of loose bullets from a pile on the table and filling it again. They only had the one magazine, so they had to manually load it every ten shots. It was annoying, but they hadn’t exactly packed for combat.

“Then you know this is fairly standard when he’s involved.” April replied, hardly looking up. “I had a friend, once, online, who said some people were just always in the eye of the storm, as it were. Bad stuff follows people like Vince. It just sort of happens.” She shrugged.

“I’m still pissed it happened on my fun polycule vacation. Like… I know Vince and Al gotta talk and that’s all well and good but I was hoping they’d get to talk where I was kinda in eyeshot just so I could get between them if it went bad? Like I’m not worried about Donnie, Flid’s probably just scaring the piss out of him at most, but Vince and Al might really kill each other if it escalates too quickly. Not to mention, if something happens to anyone.” Vyx grumbled, making a noise of frustration as the bullet refused to load into the magazine. They considered throwing it, but stayed their hand, setting it aside and grabbing another.

“How do you even manage that many partners?” Claire asked, picking up the bullet and examining it. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, Vyx’s hands were just shaking, their frustration and their nerves clear. They really were worried about Al and Vince. “I mean, not technically, I got how you manage a calendar with six people, I manage like four calendars with several hundred people, each. But emotionally. How the fuck do you manage that many partners?” She looked down, and Vyx didn’t look up at her, slamming the magazine back into the rifle with maybe more force than necessary.

“Very carefully.” They said, leaning back out of the window again and firing another quick shot off. They followed their target – he hadn’t died, just been winged, the bastard – pulling the trigger again, but nothing happened when they did, just the hammer falling and then nothing. They groaned, pulling back through the window and yanking the magazine from the rifle, hard, looking into the body like they could just pluck the offending round from the breech and call it a day. After a moment, however, they let out a breathe, realizing their frenzy wasn’t exactly helping things. “Sorry, I just… It’s hard, y’know? Trying to keep six people from killing each other. Especially when a good number of them have good reasons to do so.”

“Then why have that many partners? Clearly, this is more of a hassle than it’s worth, right?” Claire asked, sitting down on the table Vyx was sitting at. Vyx started to pull rounds from the magazine and examine them, unsure why the rifle misfired, and Claire absently stacked the cleared bullets on their end so they didn’t roll off the table as they were placed there. “Like, four calendars is hard shit, but I don’t hate doin’ it.”

“I… Honestly, it’s probably good for you to know this, too, April, even if we’re not like… a thing.” Vyx gestured between the two of them, indicating that they weren’t really dating but her proximity was enough. “But ultimately, long and short, this? This is much better than me not having enough partners.” They said, leaning back against the wall with a soft sigh, closing their eyes. The conversation never got easier, even if they’d had it six times. “I think my brain isn’t right. Like, I’m a Malk and I know that means a level of weird is normal, but I think there’s more to it than that. Like, for instance, the Madness Network? That thing Malks send messages into sometimes? I’m always connected to it.”

“Really?” Claire asked, her tone less pressing and more interested. Vyx was an odd duck among a flock of odd ducks, after all. “Like, right now?”

“Yeah. There’s… three different people singing three different musicals, people keep trying to sample their mix tapes through the network which sucks because they’re always bad, and I can hear the conversation about the werewolves spreading.” They said, tuning in briefly and regretting it, keeping their eyes closed the entire time. The mix tapes were the worst, because apparently, it was not limited to one or two towns, nor was it anyone who was actually good at making music. A captive audience was a captive audience, after all. “But it’s not just hearing it, y’know. Like… if it were just background chatter, I wouldn’t care. But like… have either of you ever been alone with your own thoughts for a long time?”

“Fairly often, yeah.” April shrugged, and Claire shrugged as well, less sure about her own experience with her own thoughts but knowing the question had been answered well enough to not need her response. “There’s a lot of them – ADHD, right? - but I manage.”

“What does your voice sound like? To your head?” Vyx asked, opening one eye to look at April sidelong. April watched them, and her face twisted in a way that said she didn’t understand the question. “So like, think a thought to yourself. Whatever the hell you want. Tell yourself your favorite food or something. Then tell me – what does that voice sound like?” They paused, letting April think on it for a second, and Claire watched them like she wasn’t sure exactly where they were going with it, but she was intrigued.

“I mean, it sounds like me?” April phrased it like a question, because while her answer was true, she wasn’t sure that’s what Vyx wanted from the conversation. They nodded, going back to unjamming their rifle in a way that was much calmer. Having taken a second, they were much less stressed and the process was easier. “Isn’t that what it’s supposed to sound like?”

“I don’t know, honestly.” Vyx shrugged, reaching into the body of their rifle and not watching as their fingers rooted around in it, trying to see what was wrong by feel alone. All of the bullets in the magazine were fine, so it meant the dud was stuck in the body somewhere, fucker. “Doesn’t really matter. Point is, you were in your, what, twenties when you were ghouled? So you had at least twenty years with your own thoughts and your own head-voice in there, so you know that girl.” They paused, finally fishing the round from the body of the rifle, and a quick inspection showed that the back of the cap had been indented somehow, so the striker simply hadn’t hit it. They threw that bullet across the room in retribution – it deserved it. “Meanwhile, I was sprung, fully forth from Vince’s head like Athena made flesh. I have had a brain with a voice in it for… just less than a decade. And that entire decade, that voice had been crowded out by a bunch of other voices.”

“Imagine,” they added, setting the rifle down now that the offending bullet was dislodged, heading for the magazine and beginning to reload it, “You hear a voice in your head and that voice says something like, damn, Al’s a fucking bastard. Al has to die. I hate Al. I hate everything about him. I hate his mullet and his persona and his stupid fucking voice. You, knowing your brain-voice, could easily go, hey, I didn’t think that, and dismiss whomever was in your head as an idiot. But I can’t tell the difference as easily.” They paused, picking up the rifle, something in their hackles rising like they didn’t like what came next, slamming the magazine into it. “If that showed up in my head, and it was strong enough, and mad enough, and I didn’t have anyone there around me, there’s a decent chance I’d think it was my thoughts and act on them.”

“Have you acted on them before?” Claire asked, seriously, like she needed to know how many crimes Vyx was hiding from her, and the way Vyx looked up said the answer was a number larger than what Claire would be okay with.

“You think this paranoia about it came from nowhere?” They asked, an answer in return without admitting they’d done anything at all. It was better if Claire didn’t know. “Being around people that know me helps. Talking helps. Anything that keeps my inner head-voice making noise so I keep an idea of what it sounds like active. ‘Cause being alone, I lose that. I can’t tell you what my own head sounds like when I haven’t said words in a week, y’know? And when I lose that, I risk anyone’s voice becoming my voice, and when that happens, well… I’ve seen how everyone treats Al, and he had the excuse of being abused.” They leaned out of the window, sighting another wolf and pulling the trigger, finding the satisfying bang to their liking. “Not to mention Glamis. Like, I know how most Kindred see me. I’m a liability, I’m insane, and probably better off dead. I don’t need to give them a reason, especially one I can’t control well.”

“People don’t think you’re like that, Vyx.” Claire tried, but she was interrupted by a fairly hefty bang, like Vyx had planned the shot to cut her off.

“Then why did they execute my grandsire without a trial?” They asked, almost rounding a little on Claire. “Why was it that Vince had to beg and grovel just to be believed? Why did he have to all but throw himself at the feet of his friends for them to realize he was telling the truth? If people really don’t think I’m just an out-of-my-mind walking series of problems, why do they treat us like it?”

“Because Malkavians have a bad rap, Vyx.” April was the one to answer the question, and she did it in a way that said that she hated it, too, but she knew the answers they wanted. She sighed, pushing her laptop back from her, as all it needed to do was run until they received word from Al. “I’ve been around for a while, maybe less than some, but I’ve spent time online on Kindred social media, and it’s… I don’t think I’ve met anyone who’s excited to meet another Malkavian. At best, it’s oh, good, got another one.”

“Yeah, but why?” Vyx asked, turning back to the window. They could, at least, help with fire support while they listened. April paused a moment, considering her words before she spoke.

“Well, I’ve worked a little with Damon, and I know his issue is that you make him feel stupid.” She said, and that had Vyx’s head turning, like they didn’t understand how they’d make a man like Damon Wellington feel stupid. Damon was both highly intelligent and so far up his own ass that he couldn’t have contained his ego if he tried. April almost chuckled at the expression. “This is mostly from Vince, since I haven’t seen you interact with Damon, but Vince would just… say things. Wild things, no context. And he’d have so much certainty to his voice and it wouldn’t make any sense, but then we’d ask, and he couldn’t explain anymore. What he’d said was the simplest he could make it, y’know? That man’s a lure, or you need better roots, and he’d stare like he couldn’t understand why we didn’t get the answer. And when you don’t get the simplest version of something, well… it’s like if I told you two plus two equals four and you didn’t get it – you’d feel dumb, right?”

“Not to mention, even if they do get it, lots of older Kindred don’t like being told they don’t know what’s goin’ on around them.” Claire added. It was easier to respond now that she wasn’t alone – she hadn’t wanted all of Vyx’s ire on her, and spreading it between the two of them seemed to be keeping them more level. “Molly, for instance. Loves a Malkavian, really. Some more than others. But if Marie rolled in to her hotel room right now and told her somethin’ fucking weird like, uh, I dunno, the dogs, ze bite at your heels and destroy your curtains,” Claire tried to do a French accent, and while her impression was okay, her normal accent meant it sounded odd, “She’d struggle to believe it ‘cause she’s supposed to know everything going on in her domain. And here’s Marie, rolling in to tell her that’s wrong, she’s blind, there’s shit happening and she doesn’t know about it. You think that goes over well for a lotta Kindred, or you think maybe being challenged about their rule gets their hackles up?”

“I’d hope that if a Malk rolled in to say hey, there’s this guy and he’s trying to end the world, they’d at least believe that, but y’all still struggled.” Vyx shrugged, but they at least were starting to get it, even if they didn’t like it.

“But that’s also the problem.” Claire got up from her seat on the table, pacing a little as she continued. “Let’s say you did exactly that, right? Wandered into Molly’s office on a cheery Monday morning, said hey, by the way, there’s this guy and he’s trying to end the world and kill all Kindred. But of course you’re not gonna be that direct, right, ‘cause it’s Malk shit and that’s hardly ever direct. You in the general sense, I mean - you’re honestly probably the most to the point Malks we’ve ever met; you’re just the exception to prove the rule, y’know?” Claire lifted her hands as though to concede a point no one made, before continuing. “But in that event, Molly’s got two choices, far as I can see them: either react to what you said, or hold off. And I know you’re like, well, she should act, right? But if you’re wrong, or she’s wrong in interpreting your bullshit, or she doesn’t quite get it and acts anyway, she’ll cause panic in the city.”

“You have to understand before you can act, Vyx, and the thing is, you come at this with an innate understanding. You know what you mean. But we don’t.” April added, tapping away at a few things as the program wrapped up. “And sometimes, I gotta say it, Vince didn’t even know what he meant, which never helped any. And sometimes you’re gonna think something’s a big deal when it’s not, so it’s like crying wolf, right? You say hey, the, uh… dogs are destroying the curtains, I guess, and then Molly comes home to find a rat named Dog or something chewing a drape and thinks you’re overreacting. Unfortunately, the threshold for how many times a Malkavian can be wrong about something going on in the city before they’re no longer trusted is like… one or less.” She paused, smiling. “Also, looks like Al’s got things up and running, Claire, if you wanna come give it a look.”

Claire all but bee-lined to her computer, and Vyx could tell that all conversation with her would be over, for just the moment. It was time for her to do her job. April stood up, heading over to stand next to Vyx, watching the wolves out of the window as Vince helped take care of a few of them from above. “I get that it sucks, not being treated right. Being a ghoul around you all wasn’t a peach, either. The amount of times I think you all forgot I could die from a gunshot was enough to be kind of scary.”

“Sorry.” Vyx said, softly, but Claire put a hand on their shoulder and shook her head, as though to say they didn’t need to say anything.

“The big thing is, Vince proved Kindred could change. That being a net bad wasn’t a thing everyone did. And that’s great, ‘cause before Vince, I think a lot of people could have been convinced that was true and now it’s clear it’s not.” She smiled down at Vyx, trying to be reassuring. “You just came in at the hard part, where we have to keep making people change. They will. They have before. Just… be patient, y’know?” She chuckled. “Keep surrounding yourself with partners, if that helps, I’m not knocking it. Which… is there like, an upper limit I should be aware of? Are we gonna keep adding floors to Geometry?”

“There’s probably an upper limit.” Vyx shrugged, chuckling. It felt good, bonding a little with April, especially over their treatment by others. “I don’t know if I’ll find it. I think it depends on the type. Like, there’s definitely an upper limit on Kindred I’m gonna live with. We have only so much viable space and so many hours in an evening. But spare paramours on the other side of the globe? Where I can visit and then fuck off again without causing harm? Unlimited space, I think. Or at least, just a really high upper limit. Being immortal really throws any ability to estimate for a loop.” They scanned the street, a smile coming to their face. “Speaking of paramours, I think I have eyes on our collective favorite Brujah. Or at least, the van I know he drives.” Vyx gestured, and on cue, a white van ripped down the street, skidding to a stop in front of the building. Brujah piled out of the back, the doors swinging wildly as they did, the crowd including both onlooker’s favorite – Donnie. Vyx watched him launch off of the back of the van, landing, fist first, on a werewolf. A second tried to grab him, but they quickly sited the thing’s head, and they watched Donnie jump as he turned to see it splatter across his face when they took the shot. “Oops. Sorry!”

“Molly’s been notified; she’s not coming back up, but she can if we think it needs it. I don’t think it will, but it’s good to know she knows. Leo’s in the van with the gym squad and in contact with us both. I’ve got more help coming from outside of the city, but it’ll be another hour before they get here.” Claire announced, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. They were on the come down, as it were, and she could relax. “Connection’s good and the staff will get the power back on shortly. Now to just clean up the mess and make everything pretty again.”

“Brilliant.” Vyx pushed away from the window, gathering their things. “Tell Al and Vince to come downstairs. I think it’s time we finally got our hands dirty.” They turned to April with a grin. “Wanna go meet our shared boyfriend and punch a werewolf in the face?”

“Sure, but I think I’m going to use my gun.” April chuckled, giving Claire a quick nod – she’d be back for her things before they left, but she wasn’t about to drag her computer into a combat zone – before following Vyx for the door.

~*~

“Ugh, you stink.”

“Well, maybe if someone hadn’t splattered a werewolf’s head on me, I’d smell better.”

“Look, Al was the one who packed the rounds, okay? I didn’t realize they were that punchy; I just load and shoot.”

“An exploded werewolf is better than a live one.”

“And we all appreciate dead werewolves, Al, so thank you.”

Once the Brujah had arrived, the wolves had been cleared out in short order. Unfortunately, the Garou had banked on keeping the office pinned down, out of contact, and without backup, so when things went to hell for them, they didn’t have a Plan B. The only thing they had were claws, and that meant that not everyone made it out unscathed, but besides a handful of new scratches on Donnie’s arms or a bite on Al’s ankle, nothing was particularly nasty.

Kindred couldn’t turn, anyway, so there weren’t really any worries.

“Thanks for the assistance.” Claire said, waiting at the curb with them while Will re-parked the bus. As a practical man, he’d moved the bus the moment the attack had started, just so he didn’t have to worry about the diesel engine being involved in a gunfight. There was no result where that ended well. Getting it back into the parking spot wasn’t the easiest, but they were patient, at least, even as he maneuvered through endless three-point-turns to try and park it. “I don’t wanna say we couldn’t have done it without you, but it was sure as shit some good help.” She chuckled. “You Malks are good at being right where you need to, huh?”

“Or getting ourselves into shit, which is kind of the same coin but with a different face. Like one that’s got two heads.” Vince added, and there was a moment of silence after, like they had to acknowledge that he was doing the weird shit again. “What? No matter how you flip it, the results are the same, but some people will tell you they guessed it right anyway and want to take your wallet for the trouble.” He tried to explain.

“Vince, when you get weird, you get weird.” Al simply replied, giving the other a clap on the arm, which was more than anyone had seen them touch since they’d arrived. Vince beamed, anyway – Al’s hands were warm, and that had to be on purpose. “Alright, party people, back in the Vengabus!” He said, as the bus put itself into park.

“That’s Vengaboys, Al.” Vyx tried to correct him, waiting for the doors to swing open and distinctly feeling like they were heading home from school after a long day, bass on their shoulders like a half-carried backpack. They shook off the half-memory, half-feeling as Al pushed past them onto the bus.

“Vengaboys is the band. Vengabus is the song name.” He corrected them, pausing at the top of the stairs to give them a grin that said he wasn’t being seriously pedantic, just jokingly so. “Did you really expect someone like me to not be an expert on turn of the century Eurodance? C’mon, Vyx, you know me better than that.” He chuckled, and Vyx shook their head, the line of people following behind Al keeping them from getting on the bus themselves.

“Hey, Will, does this bus have an aux chord, and can you not give it to Al?” Vince asked, the last past Vyx, pausing at the top of the stairs. They heard the laughter, but not the conversation, as Claire put a hand on their shoulder, stopping them from heading up and into the bus.

“I’ll make sure Molly knows your little coterie came out to help.” Claire said, and her tone said this was a gift, a good word to the right people, as thanks for the help, and Vyx nodded, understanding. A good word with Molly had a lot of weight to it, after all. “Where’s the road taking you next?”

“Maine.” They responded, passing Vince their bag as he approached the door – he could tell they were in conversation, so he didn’t do more than stick his hand out, but they needed to store the weapons before things got moving and it was a fiddly job. “I’ve got a box up north I have to get to.” They shrugged, but their face shifted with concern as Claire’s did. “What, Maine an issue?”

“You can say that.” Claire pursed her lips, like she was trying to figure out how to say something delicately that she didn’t want to mess up. “Molly’s been tryin’ to carve out a slice of Maine for a couple years, now. She wants to try and cut off port access to our north, so anyone in Europe that wants to try something funny has to land down south or risk the wrath of the Sabbat in Toronto.” She explained, her eyes cutting up to the bus, where Donnie was visible, actively storing an instrument case above the main seating in a cubby. “Her intent is t’give Donnie control of Maine for all that help you gave us, but… it’s taking longer than she likes. She’ll figure something out, soon, so don’t worry, your boy will get paid out, but if she is struggling t’maintain a hold up there, I’d just be careful.”

“What’s out there, fae?” Vyx chuckled. They’d already had a run in with the fae – or, well, Vince had. It was a whole thing. Claire’s frown, though, said she didn’t appreciate the joke.

“Maine’s mostly woods, Vyx. It’s wild out there. Garou, fae, things beyond the fae. There’s a reason that, every time we get something concrete, we lose it within a week. Something doesn’t want us fuckin’ around up there, so just keep your head on a swivel, alright?” Claire gave Vyx a wary smile, like that promise would be enough, and Vyx nodded. They were pushy, and chaotic, and optimistic, but they also weren’t stupid. They knew better than to actually play with fire.

“Yeah, we’ll do our best. Last time I was there, I didn’t have any problems, but I also didn’t have a bus full of Kindred, so. We’ll see.” The shrugged, but they gave Claire enough of a grin to let her know they weren’t going to press. “Thanks, Claire. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

Vyx didn’t hesitate any longer, swinging themselves onto the bus, and the doors closed just as they reached the top of the stairs, the bus starting back off into traffic. Now that they were heading for out of the city, Donnie was willing to let Will drive – especially as he was a bit busy giving his arm a bit of medical attention. He’d be fine, in the end, but wounds from a Garou took a bit to heal and he didn’t want to bleed on the seats. “Stop one, done! Werewolves, punched. Everyone feelin’ alright?” Vyx asked, leaning against the partition while Will took them north.

“Could be better.” Al said, examining the bite on his ankle. “He bit through my boot.”

“Could be worse.” Donnie replied, tearing off the bandages for his arm before tossing them to Al, who caught them with a raised eyebrow and a wary frown. Not much could have been worse, to be fair – he’d been bitten and it sucked. “You could have been Kine.”

“Let’s just make sure any Garou we find keep their teeth to themselves next time.” Vince got in between them, a bit, trying to keep anything from brewing that didn’t need to. Al shrugged – Donnie wasn’t wrong – wrapping his ankle with the bandages. “Which, hopefully? We’re going somewhere without any?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Vyx sighed, shaking their head. “Next stop is Maine, which I’ve already gotten one warning for. Apparently the wolves were up from there, and that’s not everything – there’s fae, too, and things beyond the fae, as Claire said.” They exaggerated the tone, as though things beyond the fae were funny things to joke about instead of real threats, “We’re just gonna need to keep eyes open and guns on us while we’re up there. I didn’t encounter anything weird, but a bus is not a bike, so let’s just make sure we leave Maine with all our limbs.” They turned to the group, who seemed to be in agreement. “Alright! Next stop, Maine! Land of lobsters, snow, and apparently weird shit in the woods.”

Will passed beyond a building, and the city fell away from them, leaving only short buildings, suburbs, and a fading skyline. Vyx just hoped they wouldn’t regret this.  

[sebastianswallows]

Dangerous and Delightful — Chapter 23 — The stone house

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind.

— WARNINGS: Angst, and a bit of fluff

— WORDCOUNT: 2k

— TAGLIST: @bloofinntoona @sarcasticpluviophile @estrotica

The morning was cold and windy in those high and rocky hills, and she was left wandering around the house alone. Sebastian was gone to get some food to tide them over for the coming days, and he didn’t say when he’d be back. He’d probably gone to Hogsmeade…

More out of a want of something to do, she began tidying up the house. She thought she was going to suffocate in all that dust, and was amazed she’d slept at all — especially after Sebastian’s fashion of ‘waking her up’ at night. There were very few things left around to clean anyway, only scarce surfaces and some chipped pots and pans. A fireplace stood dead to the right of the round wooden table, with no cauldron inside to use.

If there were any pictures ever in that house, there was no trace of them now, nor little amusements or even a place to store books. Some chests of drawers were the only places to put anything in, and she hadn’t even bothered unloading her suitcase save to take out another change of clothes. This place seemed impossible to live in for long, although she strived all morning to make something of it…

The garden was hardly better. In fact, it wasn’t even worthy of the name, and all the clay pots that sat around broken to pieces seemed never to have been used to grow anything.

“What a life,” she sighed, looking around with her hands on her hips.

She missed her house… She missed her garden, missed her chickens, and now missed even something to do. She looked at the little stone house with the frail roof, coming out of the wild ground like a rock nestled in weeds, and she imagined Sebastian growing up there. He’d said nothing of it, but it was clear to her he was the owner. He moved in it with such familiarity, and to apparate so close to Hogwarts from as far away as London… She should have guessed it when he’d done it the first time. He was closely linked to this place, and his spirit returned here easily, whether he wanted it to or not.

She chuckled thinking back to how smug he seemed in London and at the Gaunt mansion, as if he belonged to such circles, when the truth was he was just a little boy from the country... Much like her.

She went back inside the house, moving slowly with her skirts raised out of the snagging brambles, and closed the door behind her. She looked again at the whole space, just one large room partitioned into three, with a small bedroom and an even smaller kitchen — in truth only space for a furnace, a table, and a few shelves to hang dry herbs on.

Why were there only two beds, she wondered… She knew Sebastian had a sister, Anne, who as she understood was dead. Did she die so young that there was no need for her to sleep somewhere? Because certainly the children wouldn’t have been made to sleep together beyond the age of, maybe, ten… Or were they so awfully poor that they could not afford it?

She frowned and turned around, and went to open the window above the kitchen table. The wood was swollen from the moisture that had seeped in, and the window was cracked anyway, but with a great heave, she managed in the end. There was hardly anything to see outside, and overgrowth framed the outward field, but she could see hints of a little place, a wooden structure, a shed. Planks fallen off its walls gave hints of an inside with a table and a cot and a mess of other things inside. She frowned, and turned back in.

Sebastian returned with two modest bags of groceries. He was quite happy to see she’d put the place in a bit of order, and making lunch went smoothly afterwards.

She kept sneaking glances at him as they ate — a meal of rabbit stew with leeks and carrots, followed by a dessert of cream puffs with a cup of tea — and tried to imagine him as a child. Growing up in that high, cold, Scottish village, in this little house, in a bed too small or cramped when he came home from school, and still managing to reach a fame among his peers that lasted to this day. How could someone who grew up here, in modest poverty and peace, grow up to be a Dark Wizard?

Then the thought struck her, like a crest and falling wave of sadness, that she, once again, was quite the same. She never felt her family was poor when growing up, but with age, she came to realise it. It had nothing to do, she thought, with her venturing to the dark arts, but perhaps in an odd way, it did… She must have felt quite powerless as a child, must have, to try her hand at curses. To leverage her considerable knowledge to fill the space that life had left and raise herself above the others who either lacked the willingness or skill to bring their souls up to those highs and lows. Did Sebastian too try his hand at the dark arts because he was left feeling without recourse in the other parts of his life? She looked down at her steaming cup of tea and wondered.

“What?” he asked.

She raised her eyes to him as if woken from a dream. “What?”

“You were thinking quite intensely,” he said with a wry smile, behind which she detected a certain wariness. “What of?”

Her immediate instinct was to tell him nothing and then change the subject, but somehow she could not speak it out. She looked down again, and eventually found a way to approach the subject from the side.

“I was just wondering how old you were when you last lived here. This place is quite small… Barely suits one person to live in.”

Sebastian’s smile faded a little. She had wounded his pride.

“Oh, I must have been around seventeen… When I graduated, I suppose.”

“And your parents?”

“I never lived here with my parents.”

She cocked a brow.

“It was my sister and me, and our uncle.”

She nodded, the picture forming in her head. He’d mentioned his uncle before, when they were at the Museum. So, he was a bit of a foster child… Or at least it must have felt that way to him.

“Did he love you?”

“He thought he did,” said Sebastian. “He thought he loved Anne too, but Uncle Solomon only really cared about himself. His plans. His ideas. Not like he ever had any plans or ideas for anything besides —”

“Sounds like someone I know,” she chuckled.

“Don’t talk like that,” said Sebastian briskly. “I’m not like him at all.”

Oh, that really upset him…

She couldn’t even honestly accuse him of it. Even if she was upset at this whole arrangement, at being deprived of her freedom and even of her wand, she could never accuse Sebastian of only thinking of himself. After all, he’d cared enough for her to not leave her behind, to have her pack enough for her to live a bit more comfortably, even to arrange that her hens and garden were taken care of.

It took a great emotional effort on her part, but she extended a hand to him and warmly clasped his fingers as they lay tense and clawing on the table.

“I know you’re not,” she said. “Whatever else you are, you care a great deal. Perhaps a bit too much.”

Sebastian breathed out a sigh and chuckled. “That, you can accuse me of.”

And before she knew it, his fingers were intertwined with hers, and he would not let her go. She could not dare to take her hand back, anyway, when she saw him so happy. His soft brown eyes were shining in the darkness of the ill-lit room, with only its little window in the kitchen and a stub of a candle to go by, and his hand was so warm around her fingers…

“What was it like?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the beating of her heart. “Growing up around here?”

“Magical,” he grinned. “And painful, sometimes.”

“Is that why you’re so keen on chasing dangerous dark artefacts? For the wealth it brings you?”

“I’m not trying to make up for anything that happened in my childhood,” he said very quickly, heavy brows shadowing his gaze. “If that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“It is what I’m trying to say. And I don’t believe you.”

“I respect the dark arts because —”

“Because they give you something you never had, don’t they?”

“No,” he huffed. “And yes...”

“They make you feel… not helpless.”

“I suppose you would know, wouldn’t you?”

“I would,” she confessed, surprising him. “I don’t criticise the dark arts out of ignorance, you know.”

“How about not criticising them at all,” Sebastian sighed, tightening his grip around her hand. “Why don’t you simply talk to me? Not like a witch to a wizard, but… as a woman to a man.”

Could she do that? Could she speak from the heart and cast aside all of her veils of pretension? She’d never tried… She couldn’t remember the last time she spoke to anyone that way, and if such a memory existed anywhere it was so deeply buried, along with the part of herself that sprung it, that she felt sure she never could retrieve it. Even if she needed to…

“When can I go back home?” she said, resolving to answer him with a question, as nothing else was possible for her just then.

“I don’t know,” said Sebastian. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t know when I can return home either.”

She nodded. Even in his childhood house, he didn’t feel at home… And in this way, he understood her.

A peace settled between them, deeper than a truce and with none of the tension of expecting it to end. Perhaps it was the little home that barely gave them space to move around each other, or the deathly quiet of Feldcroft with its sparse houses far away that made it feel as if they were living at the very edge of the world…

They ended the day in the same pair of beds moved together to form one, and the candle was left to burn itself out on the table past the curtain. Sebastian held her from behind, and although he wasn’t moving she could tell he was awake. She could always tell, through his light breathing and the way the muscles of his arms were corded when he was wrapped around her. He was always so on edge…

She turned, barely moving the sheets, and slid her hand over his waist. Sebastian’s eyes were already opened, and amusement glinted there, and surprise, and a certain apprehension that this was a trick, but he allowed it. She only hugged him tighter, and pulled herself up to his chest, and buried her head beneath his chin. Her knees came up, nudging his stomach, and she nestled against him like a bird.

She could feel in the fluttering of his heart a hundred questions but was glad he didn’t ask them, as she wasn’t sure she could invent an answer. She only wanted to hold him, and be held, and melt into him as if he was just another part of her. Give him the sort of sympathy she could never give herself, without judgement, without any expectations, and without regrets…

She closed her eyes and smiled. It felt good.

Sebastian must have sensed there was something off about her, aside from this rare show of bodily affection. With the same ease that was typical of him, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer, smiled into her hair, and gently started to caress her back. His hands were always so big and hot, like magic flowed straight out of his fingers... He made her feel the way she wished to make him feel: safe and warm and wanted. All she could do was hug him back and place her lips over his heart.

[zukadiary]

Flügel / A Kaleidoscope of Life ~ Moon 2023

4.5-year awaited Grand Theater return on September 22 (before things) ft. my eyes dead from the unseasonable heat and yet another failed attempt to get my FLYING SAPA REFUND FROM 2020 THAT THEY STILL OWE ME.

This, unexpectedly, turned out to be the hands-down Takarazuka highlight of Tadaima ’23, and that’s… despite a play of extremely questionable content. Tsukigumi—Mugen Musou / Krung Thep—had the honor of being my last live Takarazuka before the shit hit the fan globally, and the troupe is such different vibes I felt like I stepped through a portal (not that Yukigumi isn’t, dear lord, but small theaters are always a little weird vibe-wise). I had a feeling this would be my first and last live top Tsukishiro Kanato, and she did indeed announce taidan days later. We have no shortage of 95th top stars, but, since I was a hardcore Yukigumi fan ten years ago, Reiko is the only one I’ve been closely following since her shinko days. She’s gotten so good, and every time I’ve watched her since the Romance Gekijou stream, I’ve seen in her movements and expressions that she's absolutely watched Komu on repeat in her moments of doubt. It makes my heart sing.

FLÜGEL SPOILERS (can’t believe I’m saying this again, but cw suicide, also nazis 🙄):

If you’ve ever thought to yourself, “Gee, you know whose take I’d love on the politics of a divided Germany? TAKARAZUKA’S,” well, maybe this show is for you! It’s the 1980s (although you wouldn’t know it till they bust a hole through the Wall… they really dropped the ball on costuming) and Jonas (Reiko) is a GDR officer who grew up thinking his mother (Shirayuki Sachika) was a nazi after she was arrested in his childhood for war crimes and they were separated on opposite sides of the partitioned country. After we open with a completely historically inaccurate scene from the Russian Afghan war (just SCREAMS Takarazuka, doesn’t it?), Jonas is put in charge of overseeing an East German concert featuring wildly popular West German idol Nadia (Umino Mitsuki), while other GDR officer Helmut (Houzuki An) is tasked with keeping an eye on them/preventing spying or something (idk, this plot doesn’t hold a ton of water to be honest). The general conflict is that Team Reiko is pro-unification, and Team Chinatsu is staunchly anti. Amidst a flurry of various activities that realistically would have gotten Jonas thrown in the gulag 1000 times over—including helping old war buddy?? Amashi Juri escape to West Germany via an underground route operated by Irodori Michiru and Haon Mika—Team Helmut attempts to dampen pro-unification sentiment by plotting a terrorist attack at the concert (in the form of an exploding microphone) and pinning it on a priest (Yumena Rune) and his band of peaceful student protestors. Thanks to Jonas and Luis Wagner (Kazama Yuno), who is Nadia’s manager and also secretly the best spy in the world or something, the mic is retrieved and the plan is thwarted. When Nadia returns to West Germany, she is moved to become a pro-unification activist thanks to the friends she made on the other side, and leads a protest that results in breaking the wall down. Helmut, unable to cope with the defeat of his ideology, takes his own life quite dramatically (so be aware of that). After travel is permitted between east and west, Jonas discovers that his mother (aging with dementia), while employed by the nazis, actually used her position to help Jews escape. Jonas and Nadia don’t fall in love, but they do look off into the sky together in hope and friendship.

I really did not care for this plot, yet somehow I also didn’t absolutely hate watching it. I think there were enough isolated highlights to make the experience worth it:

I! Love! Reiko! And I’m so happy I got to see her as top once! And her voice is fantastic lately!

Reiko and Chinatsu have an unexpectedly compelling chemistry

Chinatsu has an unexpected chemistry with me and my feelings

The final protest scene (set to a dramatic rendition of Ode to Joy) features Chinatsu repeatedly trying to hit Reiko, while Reiko just blocks all her punches and stares straight into her eyes. It’s a lot.

I had similar feelings watching Oda as I did watching Agachin; she wore those 4.5 years loud and proud. +1000 confidence, absolutely ready for her nibante era.

Nice little send off role for Ren Tsukasa, who is ABSOLUTELY BELOVED. People cheered the theater down for her, it was genuinely moving. No one in anything else I saw got that much applause except for maybe Kaiho Naoto.

KALEIDOSCOPE SPOILERS:

This, brainchild of Kurita-sensei making her revue debut, was the revue of the year, and probably the revue of all pandemic era for me. It was fresh, it had a theme, the music slapped, it actually called back a little to Ogita-sensei who I will miss in tkz until the end of time. LET WOMEN MAKE REVUES!!

The premise is a journey through different eras of Tokyo, triggered by the turn of a magic kaleidoscope. Each era’s scene is beautifully designed, and has a little self-contained plot. The transitions are seamless, and I loved the song choices (CITY! POP! CHUUZUME!). Tsukigumi as a whole is vocally outstanding right now, and the impact was awesome. Verbal descriptions don’t do it justice! If you’re tired of Fujii/Saitou/Nakamura B throwing all their old scenes into a tumble dyer and pulling them back out in a random order, watch Kaleidoscope, even if you aren’t a fan of Tsukigumi.

[digiawaara]

Understanding Cloud VPS: How It Differs from Traditional VPS Hosting

As online presence has become important, determining which hosting service to choose has become one of the essential business decisions. There are two well-known options: Cloud VPS and Traditional VPS, and each has distinct characteristics and benefits. Understanding their differences can help you choose the hosting solution that has all the features you want for your website. Let us explore the distinction between Cloud VPS and Traditional VPS hosting.

VPS Hosting: The Building Block

Practically, VPS hosting is a reality of virtualization technology, and it includes the segmentation of a physical server into several virtual areas. Each VPS works as stand-alone units, providing users with distinct and reserved assets, greater governance, as well as enhanced security as compared to sharing resources with others (like in shared hosting). This type of unit is perfect for those who want more than shared hosting, but do not wish to have a dedicated server.

Traditional VPS Hosting: What to Expect

An underlying issue with Traditional VPS hosting is that a physical server hosts several distinct virtual servers which are partitions of the single physical server. Individual computational units, such as CPU and memory resource denominating units, are assigned to every partition (virtual server instance) separately.

Benefits of Traditional VPS:

Allocated Resources: Each Virtual Private Server has been allocated dedicated assets alone and hence given room for performance stability.

Steady Environment: All available resources for the servers or applications are set, hence high reliability in performance.

Increased Security: Geo-segmentation of virtual servers result in the captivity of data to determined borders hence more security.

Disadvantages of Traditional VPS:

Potential Growth is Lower: Moving to a new server is often required because scaling specially target resources at taking out the entire current server.

Singe Instance of Trouble: At the incident of some hardware fault on the server all VPS (virtual private servers) instances that were hosted there are affected.

Static Division of Resources: Adjustment on the availability of certain resources at any one time is difficult hence, may cause frustrations in the management of traffic surges.

Cloud VPS Hosting: The Adaptable Approach

Cloud VPS hosting employs a cloud based virtualization technology that allows connection of several servers over a network cloud. Such a structure cultivates flexibility, quick growth and more strength since resources are sourced from several servers rather than one.

Cloud VPS benefits:

Scalable with ease: Resources are completely adjustable and scaling does not involve any upgrades.

Reduced Downtime: The chances of a server going down are drastically reduced because the workload is handled by multiple servers.

Improved Performance Levels: Traffic across servers is balanced to achieve efficiency and a rush is experienced even when the level of activity is busy.

Pay Per Use: The per minute charge system means that costs only increase when the resources increase.

Cloud VPS disadvantages:

Unstable Prices: Servers that bill based on resources consumed means the expense for that month can be somewhat erratic.

Location Issues: This can be a contentious issue due to the fact that all data is kept distributed over many servers in some heavily regulated industries.

Network Dependency: Understandably, the performance of Cloud based VPS is determined by the Internet connection quality; slower networks tend to hamper the speed at which the resources are accessed.

4. Which VPS Option is Right for You?

Choose Traditional VPS if:

You are looking to operate in a more stable and consistent environment.

Your website experiences traffic that is steady and within reasonable limits.

You would like to pay a fixed monthly fee without any variations.

Choose Cloud VPS if:

You are looking for more flexibility and expansion options.

Your site receives fluctuating and irregular visits, or seasonal peaks.

It is essential for your organization to experience high availability and low downtime.

5. Final Thoughts

There are benefits as well as different uses associated with Cloud VPS and Traditional VPS. For example, Cloud VPS offers agility, growth potential, and dependability and is therefore suitable for businesses that are poised for expansion and need to cope with abrupt increases in demand for the products marketed online. On the other hand, Traditional VPS is a great and affordable option for people seeking a certain fixed resource and where variability is not a major factor.

Remember that it is crucial to choose the right type of VPS when starting a website. The difference in performance, online presence, and cost can be widely affected by the host one chooses, making it imperative to adapt the virtual private servers to the needs of the business.

[dsp-consultants]

The Importance of Acoustical Consultants in KSA

In today’s fast-developing cities like those in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA), the role of Acoustical Consultants is becoming increasingly critical. With urban expansion, modern infrastructure, and a growing focus on public well-being, managing sound and vibration within various environments requires expert knowledge. This is where DSP Consultants steps in, offering tailored acoustic consultancy services designed to meet the unique needs of KSA’s ambitious projects.

What Do Acoustical Consultants Do?

In simple terms, acoustical consultants are specialists who manage sound and vibration within different environments. Their expertise extends beyond just measuring noise levels. They predict how sound will behave within spaces, analyze potential noise issues, and design solutions that ensure optimal acoustic performance. Consultants like DSP help clients achieve their desired outcomes by delivering reports and actionable recommendations on how to manage sound effectively.

Some consultants focus on niche areas such as concert halls or specialized venues, but many, including DSP Consultants, offer comprehensive solutions that cover multiple areas, such as building acoustics and environmental noise. These solutions are critical for developers, architects, and engineers in KSA who are committed to meeting acoustic standards while delivering functional, high-quality spaces.

Key Areas of Acoustic Consultancy

1. Building Acoustics

Building acoustics focuses on how sound behaves within a building. Effective management of internal sound is essential for creating comfortable environments, whether in hospitals, schools, residential complexes, or offices. DSP Consultants helps clients achieve this by:

Calculating reverberation times: This ensures that rooms are not too noisy or echo-prone, improving communication and user comfort.

Recommending materials: DSP advises on partitions that enhance privacy by preventing sound from traveling between rooms.

Designing noise barriers: In spaces like bars or nightclubs, the focus may be on containing sound within the space to prevent disturbance to surrounding areas.

The principles of building acoustics remain consistent, but the design targets vary depending on the intended use of the space. For instance, hospitals require quieter environments, while schools need sound control that ensures clear communication. DSP Consultants’ expertise lies in identifying the appropriate targets for each project and selecting suitable materials and construction techniques to achieve them.

2. Environmental Noise Control

Managing environmental noise is essential in cities like Riyadh or Jeddah, where urban activities, transportation, and construction can generate high levels of noise. DSP Consultants provides comprehensive environmental noise assessments, helping developers meet regulations while ensuring community comfort. These assessments are particularly important for:

Residential developments near highways or airports

Public spaces that need to minimize noise impact on surrounding areas

Industrial zones where noise control is essential for compliance

Why Are Acoustical Consultants Essential in KSA?

With rapid urbanization, KSA is focusing on creating world-class infrastructure, from high-end residential developments to vibrant commercial hubs. Effective acoustic design plays a key role in ensuring these environments are not only functional but also comfortable for their occupants. Poorly managed acoustics can lead to issues such as noise complaints, loss of productivity, and even health concerns.

By engaging DSP Consultants early in the project lifecycle, developers and designers can avoid costly modifications later. The consultants help to integrate acoustic strategies into the design from the start, ensuring that all necessary measures—such as material selection and soundproofing—are implemented effectively.

DSP Consultants: Your Trusted Partner in Acoustic Consultancy

As a leader in acoustic consultancy in KSA, DSP Consultants offers expert solutions tailored to meet the specific needs of each project. From advising on building materials to conducting environmental noise assessments, DSP ensures that spaces are acoustically optimized to meet both functional and regulatory requirements.

Whether you are developing a hospital, school, residential building, or industrial facility, working with DSP Consultants ensures your project is designed with sound management in mind. With a deep understanding of both local regulations and global best practices, DSP is well-equipped to support KSA’s vision for sustainable, livable, and sound-conscious environments.

Conclusion

Acoustical consultants play a critical role in shaping spaces that promote comfort and well-being. In KSA’s fast-growing cities, where noise and vibration control are essential for modern developments, the expertise of DSP Consultants can make all the difference. By offering tailored solutions for building acoustics and environmental noise, DSP helps clients achieve superior sound management, ensuring spaces that meet the highest standards of acoustic performance.

Whether you're an architect, developer, or engineer in KSA, partnering with DSP Consultants ensures that your project will stand out not only for its design but also for its acoustical excellence. For more information please contact us at info@dsp-consultants.com.

[zeuscommercial]

Choosing the Right Commercial Real Estate Financing: Why the SBA 504 Real Estate Loan Stands Out?

Securing the right financing option for commercial real estate could be a significant aspect for business owners. Expanding your business, acquiring a new property, or investing in other assets are all processes that would warrant taking out a loan, and knowing which type of loan to take is important to ensure favorable terms and rates are secured. Of all the different loan products available, many small business owners are keen on the SBA 504 Real Estate Loan. In this blog, we will see the reasons why the SBA 504 loan is worth your consideration when it comes to commercial real estate financing.

Understanding commercial real estate financing

Commercial real estate financing refers to the funding used for buying, improving, or refinancing any income-generating asset such as an office, retail, or industrial building. Business people looking for such funding can consider several sources, such as bank loans, commercial mortgages, and government loans. All these options present their own pros and cons, making it important to select one that fits the needs of one's business.

What Is a 504 Real Estate Loan?

 In finance, it is a long-term, fixed-rate loan aimed at small businesses for purchasing capital assets, for example, real estate or expensive machinery. The difference between an SBA 504 real estate loan and an ordinary commercial loan is that the former is a tri-partite agreement between the lender, a CDC (Certified Development Company), and the borrower. Here is how it works:

1. The lender advances 50% of the project costs.

2. A non-profit counterpart, the CDC, takes 40% of that.

3. The last 10% is taken up by the borrower.

This risk-sharing approach helps in giving better terms to the small business owners, making them less risky for the lenders.

Advantages of the SBA 504 Loan for Real Estate Financing

Following are the reasons making the SBA 504 Real Estate Loan an ideal option for most people in need of commercial real estate financing:

Lower Deposit Requirement- In factor analysis, the low deposit perceived as one of the primary working capital loan merits, as in a few cases starting from 10% only required. This is advantageous to most small enterprises that want to safeguard their liquidity. Unlike commercial loans that may have more expensive down payments, the SBA 504 loan enables businesses to keep a greater portion of their funds available for other purposes.

Locked-in Interest Rates-The SBA 504 loan has locked in interest rates, which implies that the interest rate will be charged at the same rate for the duration of the loan. This provides an element of certainty that is often not present owing to the unique nature of other commercial real estate financing. This makes it easily possible to plan and budget for such activities.

Amortization Schedule- The repayment period of the SBA 504 loan is also quite long, often extending to a full 25 years on the purchase of real estate. This helps to lower the level of monthly payments; hence, it’s easier for small businesses to repay their debts. Greater repayment terms are a big plus in comparison with several direct commercial financing institutions whose repayment periods tend to be shorter.

Enabler for Investment Spending- Where a business has the need to make an investment, such as a purchase of a bigger office, a warehouse, or buying machinery, the SBA 504 loan comes in handy. It is a perfect match for advancing companies that are in serious need of buying new properties.

Why Choose Zeus Commercial Capital?

Finding the right financing can be hard, and that’s where Zeus Commercial Capital stands out. We form and manage portfolios of debt to minimize cost while enabling the financing of all commercial real estate loans. You can rely on us for professional assistance and successful realization of your plans and goals in regard to SBA 504 real estate loans.

Final Thoughts

The importance of selecting the most appropriate commercial real estate financing for the advancement and achievement of your business cannot be overstated. The majority of small businesses can opt for the SBA 504 Real Estate Loan since it has comparatively low equity requirements, fixed government rates, as well as more extended payback periods. For those seeking professional assistance with understanding the most appropriate financing options for their business, Zeus Commercial Capital is available. We will help you with relevant guidance and find the most suitable solution.

[candiid-caniine]

Oh wise edge puppy. How do you stop masturbating out of habit/boredome?

edgeslut answer: you don't silly!! anytime an edgepet is bored or has nothing to do, they should be edging their brains out 💕

manang bug answer: if you're finding your edging time is cutting into your daily activities or causing you distress, consider ways to partition it to certain times of the day. set limits with yourself and find ways to manage your edging time 💕

human answer: if you're not edging, or even if you are, and you find yourself masturbating when bored or because you usually do it at a certain time of day, here are some suggestions:

find ways to set other goals for yourself. maybe pick up a hobby, work on it, then see if you still wanna masturbate - if yes, then go with the flow :)

consider why this is a habit you want to change. is it negatively impacting the time you spend on other things? if yes, see above. if no, see below:

is it hurting your body? if yes, consider ways to do it with less friction or for less time. if no:

is the amount you masturbate simply causing you some kind of nameless guilt, shame, or vague worries that you're not being productive? if so, please, baby, don't be ashamed about your pleasure. your body may just *like* it - it may be relaxing, relieving stress, and that's a good thing 💕 take your fucking pleasure. toxic productivity is a capitalist intrusion into your life, and it doesn't belong near your genitals. finally:

are you genuinely concerned that you're dealing with a sex/porn addiction? if so, I have to admit I'm not the best person to ask for advice; it's not something I'm familiar with. what I can tell you is that, if you're researching ways to deal with it, be conscious of your sources - anti-porn and pro-purity culture websites like to list perfectly normal sexual behaviors as forms of addiction or deviance. finding a therapist that is NOT affiliated with a religious organization would be my advice; I would NOT advise you to join support groups that are connected with churches or the 12-step program for this. that's all I can say. (I don't think this is what you're dealing w but just in case 💕)

be well, friend 💕