#she's only 5 months old so maybe its just because she is a kitten

[mercurialsmile]

Maybe its grief. Maybe I'm just really depressed. Or maybe I'm just tired.

But I really do not think I am a cat person. I've had this cat for not even a week and she's driving me a little crazy. I don't get what the big deal is and do not understand why so many people go crazy for cats.

[bunniandhoney]

Maybe too Little, Probably too Late

part 2 of

The day YN sent Jacob away was pure torture. She’d cried for the rest of the night in that one spot on the floor. Only her kitten Bilbo seemed to care, nudging at YN to be held. But when YN moved from that spot, early the next morning, something shifted.

Her eyes were swollen and her whole body ached, but she was different. She had to start over, completely over. After a quick shower YN left her sad apartment and went straight to the nearest barbershop.

“I want it all gone!” she says determined.

“Uuhmm, are you sure this is quite a bit of hair—“

“Yep, all of it please.”

YN walks out with the shortest haircut she’d ever had in her life, and a weight off her shoulders. Jacob loved her hair, there’d been many nights where Jacob would softly massage her scalp, putting YN to sleep. Now she wanted all memories of Jacob gone.

After a quick breakfast and her new haircut, YN decided to redo her apartment. She threw away everything that had to do with her now ex best friend; his old uni sweatshirt, his favorite “I ♥️ London” mug, his spare toothbrush, and every last thing that remotely reminded him.

Pulling another garbage bag to the front of her apartment YN stops because she realizes that in her 600sqft apartment Jacob filled up 3 large bags, and now her whole apartment seems empty.

She truly doesn’t know what to do when they come to pick up her garbage the next morning. Every moment for the next 3 months is like this, her being stung by the depravity of Jacob’s absence and its hell. All she can do is cuddle up to Bilbo, the only thing she has left that reminds her of Jacob, that she wouldn’t dare to part with.

Their shared friends eventually caught on about their split around month 4; when YN snapped at Gracie’s hendo weekend because the girls refused to stop asking about her “movie stay bestie”. By month 5 she was finally starting to feel free from him, YN was finally feeling like she was her own person.

But during month 6, YN had traveled home for the christmas holiday. This holiday would probably be the hardest because not only would she miss her and Jacob’s Christmas traditions, but she might run into him.

Their mums had been best friends since they were in primary school, but YN’s mom moved to another country for university and they’d lost touch. But once YN’s family moved back to London, nothing stopped the pair from rekindling their friendship and no “childish riff” (as her mom called it) between their children would stop their friendship either.

So YN stayed holed up in her old bedroom for almost her entire holiday. Until christmas eve when her mom came banging on her door, telling her she needed to come down and speak to the guests of their annual Christmas eve party. YN knew this was coming, her mom was practically the Martha Stewart of Christmas and would not let her only child spoil a perfectly good Christmas.

Luckily, it seemed that the Scipio’s decided not to show tonight, much to her mother’s dismay, so YN dropped her wallflower act and paraded around as the hostess her mother taught her to be. When she turns from the kitchen after offering to refill a few drinks, she stops dead in her tracks because she sees him, well she sees the back of him.

Jacob is already being clapped on the shoulder and rugged into hugs as she watches for a second, and she wants to join so badly. To run to him and say how michel she’s missed him and to see how he’s doing ,

how he’s been. Those thoughts keep winding until she realizes that their answers won’t include each other, his certainly won’t. Jacob’s will be filled with daring adventures and a beautiful fiancé.

6 months without him and she has nothing to show for it. YN turns back around putting the drinks on the counter, ignoring her hosting responsibilities, and quietly slips out to the back garden. The evening snow chills her even with the thick sweater. Her deep breaths are filling her lungs with frost, and she’s almost calmed down, until she hears the back door slide open.

YN stills completely, as if it will hide her, when the sound of feet crunching against snow moves closer to her.

“It’s right cold out here my love.” Her mom says pulling her jacket closer around her body. YN looks back at her mom, realizing the breath she was holding.

Looking at her daughter, YN’s mom's heart cracks just a little. The older woman knew something had happened between the two, but she allowed YN to spare her any details. As she gets closer to her daughter she can see the tears that YN is trying to blink away.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back in a second.” YN says wiping the tears back.

“No my love I think party time might be over for you. It’s okay if you want to rest for a bit, it’s been quite the day.”

Nodding her head, YN moves to go back inside, but just as she reaches the door she hears her mother clear her throat.

“I’m not all too sure what’s happened, but I hope you two can figure it out. You two were made to be in each other’s lives, one way or another.”

With a sigh YN heads back upstairs to her room, to curl back under the covers. This time she doesn’t cry, but she still feels that ache in her chest, as if her heart calls for the man downstairs.

Month 7 kicks off the new year and YN is committed to her “New Year, New Me” mantra. To the point where she is letting her friends finally set her up on dates. She didn’t care to participate too often before, as she hoped Jacob would finally see her as a potential girlfriend and after 2 months of these blind dates YN decides she prefers unrequited love.

“Oh c’mon YN just one more date!” Gracie says again, sipping on her third mimosa.

“I don’t know Gracie, I just don’t think I'll ever find a forever kind of guy. 8 dates in 8 weeks and they were all awful.” YN grimaces remembering the serial farter from date number 5.

“Look, just one more time, for me? He’s such a great guy and he’s been asking me to set him up for months at this point. I think you two would be a perfect pair!” Gracie says with a slight slur.

YN tries hard not to think about how she ended up here, getting drunk and being slightly guilted into another horrid date. “Fine, but this is the last one. You can't vicariously be single through me anymore after this!”

With a boisterous laugh Gracie gets on her phone to set up YN’s next date.

—

YN looks absolutely hot, as she did for every last one of her dates. But after date number three, the thrill of being a hot date certainly wore off. Matt didn’t seem like a bad guy at all through text, and certainly wasn’t bad looking from his pictures, though the same could be said about the others.

So she really wasn’t too thrilled when he was 15 minutes late. Now, had she known that Matt was 10x hotter than his picture she might’ve excused him, but without giving him a second glance she tells him that she doesn’t think this is going to work and gets up to leave their date.

It takes him a second to realize what happened but when he does Matt is out of his seat and jogging after her. “Hey, you’re right," he says, still keeping a good pace behind her.” I shouldn’t have been late, but I was rescuing a cat from a tree for an older lady in my building; I couldn’t leave without at least trying.”

YN pauses just as she places her hand on her cat door, she quickly whips her head around giving him a once over. “Did you really rescue a cat?” she says looking over her shoulder at him.

“Not at all, but you look like you have a soft spot for cats, and I'm late because I burned a hole through my shirt. Which is why I'm wearing a jacket when it’s 96 degrees and I smell slightly like smoke.”

YN turns all the way around, staring at Matt as if he’d grown another head, but a split second later she is doubled over in laughter. A real belly laugh, one she hadn’t felt in a long while, and that’s when she knew she would be alright again.

Well at least this is the story she tells Jacob when he angrily asks how she could possibly be engaged during the dinner of his premiere party.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

heeey 🥹 sorry about the tardiness on part 2, i fear the big girl job had me slumped!

but WE BACK, with a bit more angst too! i’ve already started on part iii, and i’m hoping for a happy ending.

i’ll never stop thanking you all for the love 🤍

xoxo

Bunni

[dreadofthegrave]

augh. whinging about life events

this is something that would be in a circle in twitter dot corn but i don't have circles here so i will simply put it under a readmore and assume that anyone who doesnt care will simply scroll by as i gen hope they will <3

anyways. last week was vacation and coming back from vacation i got thrown in the metaphorical frying pan. person who was supposed to be watching the house fucked off w/o telling us thursday afternoon (we came back sat night) leaving our cats and her cats (inc. a 5 month old kitten in a separate room) alone. which the other cats would have been fine alone for a few days but the litterboxes were full which makes me suspect she did not clean up before she left. kitten was left with no water and no food (she gave him food but he scarfed it down immediately. because he's A Kitten) and she had the audacity to try to lie to us!! about when she left when we straight up had proof from the security system logs that she was gone for longer than she said she was <3333

did i mention this girl is supposed to be living with us for a few more weeks lol lmao

we spent an hour and a half cleaning the house from the misc toilet and vomit stains around after having already driven a collective 7 hours home from our vacation spot.

we grilled her pretty hard after she came back sunday nite at like 9:30 pm and she kinda gave a half hearted apology and i emphasized that. i agreed to the kitten staying over (which she had thrown on me like. night before we leave) (she adopted the kitten the weekend we left for vacation) with the agreement that she would be taking 100% care of him which she was Not.

and then she fucked off again for all of monday. i think she stayed monday night but she was gone the next morning. she also sprang on me monday nite that "oh do you mind if i stay at my friends house the days i have work because it's closer to my workplace" (by a magnitude of like. hours) and i said yeah because it was LATE and i was WORKING the next day so i didnt have the energy to have a long conversation. i shouldn't have said yes.

she was gone all tues and wed. she didn't have work today so she should have come back to my house but she didn't because she was with her mom. didn't tell us that btw.

now it is thurs night she's probably going to arrive back way too late for me to have a conversation with her because i go to bed early. because i wake up early for work. my sister called her and had a long convo and i sent her a text message saying the kitten has to be gone by the end of this weekend because my sister and i have been taking care of HER KITTEN this entire week basically. when i already gave her a warning for being negligent with the kitten.

tired of hearing the kitten yowling the whole day because my sister and i are both busy and we can't play with him. me because i have my desk job my sister because she's prepping for her job starting next week. regardless ITS THIS GIRLS KITTEN NOT OURS THAT WE DIDN'T AGREE TO TAKE CARE OF

i haven't even broached the topic of payment because i expected to charge her rent for the couple of weeks she was living with us but since she's only been here like. a grand total of 8 hours (when she wasn't watching the house the week we were gone) should i just charge her for using our house as a boarding house for her cats. lol. lmao. im getting some payment out of this even if i have to bug her for it

all that aside. getting grilled at work for things partially my fault and partially not my fault and feeling indignant about it. got told i wasn't communicating well enough when i have been responding to every single silly little email that was sent to me so idk. maybe check your inbox then? anyways i have to finish a report tomorrow i've been putting off for. a disgustingly long time so this is a situation i put myself in but im still mad and stressed about it

good thing i talk to my therapist tmmrw because im just gonna be like hi :) the shit hit the fan my dude

oh as an aside my brain has been bad enough this week that i decided to take a break from twitter since i figured spending my limited free time endlessly scrolling through a collapsing social media site wasn't helping my brain trying to self-cannibalize. tumblr is. Okay. for now. debating filling my queue and leaving for x amount of time but for now i need some outlet

what else. had an onslaught of flies in the house this week. killed about 20 or 30 tuesday and wednesday. thankfully there seemed to be a lot less today so i'm hoping it was just a freak accident and not a serious problem. clothes dryer has been broken (still turns, but no heat) for three weeks now. repairman has stopped by three times with a fourth time coming. i'm about ready to pull the plug after the next time he comes and just buy a new dryer even if that's going to be $$$$ because... it's an old dryer. maybe its time is just up

didn't mean for this post to be so long LMAO if you made it this far you get a picture of harley (my mom's cat). i just gotta make it through this week [pained smile]

NINJA EDIT BECAUSE AS I WAS TYPING THIS UP THERE WAS A NEW KITTEN DEVELOPMENT. after i texted her she got upset enough to decide to drive to our house and pick up the kitten and leave which i mean. lol. lmao. i gave you a warning and you decided to still fuck off so that's not my fault at this point. she's still an hour away so i will probably be going to bed when she comes home. don't have it in me to have another 10pm serious conversation lol lmao lol

[justtogetthrough]

Honestly my cat seems sickly lately and it's stressing me out because we've never been able to diagnose 75% of the things wrong with him, and I'm also not willing to travel to see vet specialists. So I have no hope of being able to figure out what's wrong and I don't have good access to a vet to do so even if i wanted to, let alone not having the money to explore it.

I've been in a bad mood today and raging at my cats and I feel so bad about it, on top of worrying about his health.

For a long time I was chalking up his strange behaviour and appearance to the stress of moving but its not getting better. I haven't finished unpacking but we've been here for over 2 months now, he's a super adaptable cat who travels well so it doesn't make sense that this is a response to moving at this point. He has always settled into new spaces well.

I've been thinking about him dying lately and it makes me really sad. When I got him it was a toss up whether he'd be one of those indestructible barn cats who live to 20 or if he'd succumb young. He's 7.5 so we're kinda in the middle at this point. If he did die I don't know if I'd get a kitten or have my calico be an only cat. She's pretty high energy and I don't have the energy to play with her and so I feel obligated to ensure she has a mate. But thinking about this makes me sad and I don't want to deal with the reality that my orange might be fading slowly before my eyes.

In 2 weeks we're driving back to my old town for their annual/shots, they're not taking me off the roster until I can find a local vet taking on new patients (none currently are). But I certainly can't go back to explore anything because each visit would be a whole day affair to sedate him and drive 3 hours and what not. But the annual is with the vet who saw him for his first 5 years and I'm going to see what she thinks. His fur is very weird, it's ruffled all the time and greasy when he's always been velvety soft, and his spasms are getting worse and he's spooking frequently. He won't stay lying down/asleep if I get up from bed. Until he passes out from exhaustion, he's up and down and up and down. The spasms are something we've already looked at and my next option is a neurologist in Toronto and it's just... not in the cards.

I dont know what to do for him. Tomorrow I'm going to try building a tall cat tree for him. Maybe that's whats stressing him out, he hasn't had a high enough perch for 3 months? Idk. Tomorrow if I do nothing else, I need to build a cat tree and see if that settles him. I can't bear to see him like this.

[catboygretzky]

best stucky fic recs pwease

Okay, disclaimer, these are all like five+ years old (which is the best Stucky era, imo) and definitely not the only ones I enjoy; these are just a few in my bookmarks on ao3.

In no particular order besides the order I bookmarked them and under a read more because there's a shit ton of them (really, it's a lot):

- hold me until we crumble; Not Rated, 23k

“Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

- despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained); Explicit, 72k

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

- family means no one gets left behind or forgotten; Teen, 11k

“Why did you think I wouldn’t like you for being gay?” Steve asks gently.

“You’re Captain America.” Eli’s got his teeth clenched and is resolutely looking ahead. “You stand for truth and justice and the American way. You stand for American morals. You stand for…” he shrugs awkwardly. “Not people like me.”

Steve blows the air out of his cheeks slowly, trying to figure out how to keep the anger out of his voice so Eli doesn’t think it’s at him.

Or, Steve comes to terms with his new world, and gains some children in the process.

- Mistake on the Part of Nature; Teen, 1.3k

Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face.

"Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas."

In which an American icon is mourned. But probably not the one you're thinking of.

- Swear Jar; Teen, 1.5k

Bucky isn't the only troll in the future.

OR

Steve has a Swear Jar and he makes the Avengers pay up every time they cuss.

- Barnes & Rogers and the Goddamn Truth; Not Rated, 19k

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

- perfectly right wrong number; Teen, 32k

It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

- The power of the right shirt (a.k.a. God bless America); Teen, 1.2k

"He just…" Phil trails off, mouth gaping. He is staring at the field outside the house, eyes glazed.

Clint sighs. "Yeah, he just ripped a log in two with his bare hands."

- To fill it up with something; Teen, 21k

A fateful encounter with Dr. Strange leaves the Winter Soldier transformed, and Bucky Barnes reunites with Steve Rogers in a most unexpected way.

“Steve brings the puppy inside, into the apartment that doesn't quite feel like home no matter how much he's been trying. He isn't used to being alone. Before the war, he always had Bucky, and his mother until her death. During the war, Bucky was there, too—and the rest of the Howlers, of course—but Bucky always meant home. (And well, maybe Steve's already got a name for the puppy in mind)."

- build it bigger than the sun; Teen, 10k

“Yeah, because nothing says heteronormative like living in Dupont Circle for two years and wearing skin-tight shirts to hit on hot airmen when you go running in the morning.”

“Look, I know you’re being sarcastic but I really don’t get how no one picked up on that.”

Steve and Bucky try to work out their relationship. The Avengers keep getting in the way.

- Memories Circle (Like Birds of Prey), Teen, 32k

Everything seems to be going right, Steve's fighting with his Commandos, they've saving lives-- until Steve falls from a train, is taken prisoner, and turned into the Winter Soldier. Meanwhile, Bucky takes up Steve's mantle as Captain America, and thanks to Zola's experiments, he gets dropped into a whole new time, only to cross paths with a Steve who doesn't know who he is anymore.

Essentially, the events of CA:TFA, mild mentioning of Avengers, and CA:TWS but with Steve as the Winter Soldier and Bucky as Captain America

- The Gentleness That Comes; Mature, 9k

Steve Rogers never really views the things he had to do to get by before the War with any sort of shame or embarrassment. People ask him for his opinions on modern issues in interviews, but Steve has gotten good at talking around those types of questions. Fury insists that there's no way to answer them without casting a shadow of controversy across the reputation of the Avengers, and that's the last thing Steve wants.

But then a sex tape is released featuring Tony Stark in bed with another man, and Steve can't stay quiet any longer.

- salt for the sea; Mature, 7.5k

Natasha comes home with intel regarding the fate of the Winter Soldier; Steve leaves to go and avenge Bucky Barnes.

“It's a list of everyone who was involved in his death, and a rough timeline of everything that happened beforehand,” she tells him.

“And the notebook?”

“I explained what they did,” Natasha says, “The blank pages are for you to explain what you do to them.”

- Lone Cat and Samurai; Teen, 8.4k

"We lost Kitten America sir!" Junior Agent blurted out. Then turned an unlovely shade of purple. "I mean, Captain America. Who’s a kitten. Because magic. Sir."

- Waiting To Prove You're Not Alone; Explicit, 41k

Months after he woke up on the banks of the Potomac, when a reporter mistakenly assumes Steve would disapprove of homosexuality being as accepted as it is in the modern day, Steve accidentally snaps and unleashes his real opinion on the matter... and with that, a secret he's hidden for over eighty years.

When that secret comes looking for him in New York, Steve can only hope that he can get a second chance at saving his best friend, even if it means keeping his heart in check.

“Yeah, back in my day it wasn't tolerated, and because of that I knew from the minute I figured it out, that I’d never get to tell my best friend that I loved him, and sure enough, he died without knowing that I’d been in love with him for a decade."

- I'm Not Sick (But I'm Not Well); Mature, 30k

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

- pure as the driven slush; Explicit, 11k

He should have worked it out sooner. But then, Steve always was a sneaky little bastard—had to have been, just to survive this long.

For the SteveBucky Fest prompt, "Steve is quite experienced while Bucky's never gone beyond second base with anyone".

- Let's Be Exposed and Unprotected, Explicit, 5k

Bucky’s pretty sure he should be into getting fucked through the floor while walls explode around him like in that Mr and Mrs Smith movie that Clint loves. But he likes it like this. He likes being on his back with Steve looming above him, big and naked, blocking out the rest of the world.

- Man of Steel; Explicit, 6.7k

It’s like Steve looked at his metal arm and thought ‘Challenge Accepted.’

- 5 Times Steve Got Arrested and 1 Time They All Did; Teen, 4.9k

What it says, 5 times Steve Rogers ended up in jail (with and without Bucky) + 1 time all of the Avengers got arrested with him.

- the best of you; Teen, 16k

Bucky is on a mission when he gets the call.

They tell him that Steve has been compromised.

[The story wherein Hydra captures Steve to create a new weapon. Bucky, alongside the rest of the Avengers, come together and work through the fallout.]

- pull apart the dark; Teen, 79k

Steve's unending faith in his best friend was beginning to look less like hope and more like fantasy. When they'd caught the Soldier – in a fire fight that still gave Sam nightmares – the only thing the man seemed to recall was how to hit exactly where it hurt.

Four months later, Barnes still refused to speak English. Refused to heed anything but Steve's voice.

So, all in all, it was not a great time for Hydra to attack New York. All in all, Sam really wished they'd just killed him, instead of turning Captain America into a baby.

- Not Another Supersoldier Fantasy; Explicit, 8.9k

Bucky finds a popular sex toy modeled on Captain America's own anatomy. Well, isn't this just perfect? Because even after all this time, he still hasn’t seen Steve’s supersoldier cock. But apparently in this day and age anyone with $29.95 can get a decent replica. The unfairness of this is of galactic proportions.

- the blood of the covenant; Teen, 7.5k

Steve has a "thing" for hot water.

Or, Sam Wilson adopts Steve Rogers.

- Mighty like Love, Mighty like Sorrow; Teen, 19k

After freeing himself from the Russians' mind control, Bucky is left at loose ends, drifting through the decades. Still, he's in no hurry to take up Nick Fury's offer to once again fight the good fight -- especially not when Fury has the nerve to put some imposter in his best friend's old suit and send him out to fight against Chitauri.

- Read Me Like a Book; Gen, 1.5k

In which Bucky accidentally becomes a book collector, because when the universe gives you a million biographies about your boyfriend, you go bookcase shopping. And then he finds out about The Grenade Incident, and the boys actually talk about it like actual adults. (Somewhere, Sam sheds a proud tear.)

- the broadest stroke of color; Gen, 16k

Sarah Rogers always loved Steve's hands.

"Your hands will do a lifetime's work," she'd say. "Remember to do the work you can for those you love."

Almost a century later, Steve does just that.

[The story wherein Steve draws comics for Bucky to help him recover his memory. Through a series of events, the issues are leaked, and Steve finds himself reviving the Captain America comics. He still isn't sure how that happened.]

- If You're Loved By Someone (You're Never Rejected); Teen, 9.4k

You’re fifteen when you realize why you stare at Bucky’s lips more than normal when he laughs and when he says your name. You lean into his shoulder when you walk next to him and when you’re sick you don’t fight off his soft hands. You tease him, he teases back and being around him is so easy you forget what it was like to live without him. You can’t remember life pre-Bucky and it scares you.

- Unusual Weather; Explicit, 8.7k

Bucky’s been at the Avengers Tower for three weeks before he finally gives in to Steve’s gentle coaxing and Stark’s cheerful waving of fistfuls of circuits, and lets them scan the arm.

It doesn’t go well.

- this city bleeds its aching heart; Explicit, 35k

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

- Good Boy; Explicit, 13k

Bucky is still adjusting to life with the Avengers, and Steve is willing to do whatever it takes to make him feel comfortable. Increasingly, though, what seems to make him comfortable is strangely intimate.

Surprise, Steve! You're a gentle dom and Bucky wants to be your pretty pet!

- Brooklyn; Teen, 8.8k

"Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?"

Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

[internalsealpanic]

The Thorn pt.1

summary: “Please what, Kitten? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

 or my 6 thousand word essay on why I want more Sugar daddy!Slade fics.

a/n: This is just straight up smut Never combine stress thirst plus an amazing enabler. Thanks to @littleredwing89 for basically co-writing. Also I need more case fics with undercover gentlemen’s clubs stuff.  I will edit this for grammar later. 

warnings: mentions of murder and sexual assault (for the case), mirror sex, collars, oral (male receiving), choking, kind of public sex?, size kink (this is to be expected at this point), strength kink,  reader is kind of a dumbass, and praise kink. 

villain’s masterlist or masterlist

Saying this wasn’t your scene would be like saying the sun is bright. Obvious but wholly inadequate in describing just how out of your depth you are. You cross your arms over your chest in a futile attempt to shield them from prying eyes. The soft fabric of your lingerie feeling too little in contrast to the men clad in expensive suits leering at you as they passed your skittish form.

 You try to swallow down the nervousness. You try to tell yourself this is fine, that it’s just for the case. But the silk collar tied tightly around your neck and your own fraying nerves made it extremely difficult to ignore just how vulnerable you felt. 

 God, what made your awkward ass think you could pull this off?

 You lift your head, eyeing the other men and women around you. You all wore matching silk ribbons tied into bows behind your neck, a circular, silver tag hanging off of it. You wrinkle your nose at how young some of them look. Some barely look old enough to be anywhere near a place like this. 

 Part of you feels thankful that you shut Nicky’s idea down to go with a leather lingerie set but the stark contrast of your lacy lingerie set made you stand out too much in the sea of leather. It made you stand out just enough to color both your cheeks and ears from the amount of attention you were getting. You close your eyes trying to ignore the heat permeating from your skin. You try to focus on the details of the case. 

 For the last 8 months, there’s been an increase in the number of young men and women going missing and turning up dead. The assumption had been that it was due to the increase in gang activity but something felt off about the deaths. 

 Nothing was consistent. The victim type, the area, and even the M.O. of sexual assault were varied. Only the mode of death was even close to being consistent but even that presented its own problems. The injuries were too clean, too efficient for the killer to have drawn any pleasure from it especially when contrasted with the victims’ other injuries.  Normally people who make those injuries have a certain type and a certain way of doing things. And the clean efficiency of the disposal method had easily ruled out any of the local gangs. 

 When you brought all of this up to your boss, he waved you off saying something about looking into it. Somehow not getting fired after screaming at your boss (probably because you’re one of the few crime scene techs willing to stay in this shithole), you decide to conduct your own investigation. The more clues you uncovered (out of sheer spite) the more they seemed to point to an organized crime group, likely involved in trafficking.

 Finally, after a month and a half of searching, you found a solid lead. Augustus Klineberg. Despite the name, he was new money. At least, here in Merit.  

 “I’m his type!”

 “And so are a dozen bodies laying around in the lab, what’s your point?”

 “Sita, got me a part-time job at the Thorn.”

 It hadn’t been easy. The thorn was an exclusive gentlemen’s club that specialized in certain kinks. It had taken Sita a week to even get you an interview but after that they eagerly accepted you with worrying enthusiasm. Either way, this conversation was simply a formality. 

 Bernard stares at you and you watch as his entire being crumples into the dining room table. He turns to his husband pleadingly. “Nicky, Please, my love, talk some sense into her.”

 You turn to Nicky who is innocently sipping from his coffee mug filled with whatever ungodly creation came to Bernard in the dead of night. He tilts his head back seemingly collecting the right words. “Y/n has a point.”

 “No! Not you too!”

 “Yes!”

 “Bern, think about it. Klineberg would never suspect her and unlike most of Klineberg’s victims, Y/n is a ninja gremlin.”

 Bernard gives him a withering look while you snort. Nicky shrugs and continues to drink his, what you assumed was, liquid crack. 

 “Y/n, are you sure about this? The Thorn- Well, it isn’t exactly like your other undercover jobs.” You give both of them a cocky smile, biting into your mini waffle. “It can’t be that hard. All I have to do is sit there and look pretty.” At that little remark, Nicky burst out into a fit of laughter loud enough to wake the neighbors. 

You run your hand through your hair still, feeling flustered. You need air. 

 “Hey Nina, I’m gonna need like maybe 5 minutes.”

 “Sure, just don’t blame me for whatever excuse I give the bossman,” Nina says, shrugging at you. She flips her red curls over her shoulder, winking at a patron and tilting her hips to show off her curves. Both you and the patron are slack-jawed and entranced. Maybe you should try that sometime? Some time being after you stop gawking at Nina’s ass and probably also after you take in some air. 

 You shuffle away awkwardly keeping your eyes to the ground. You shrink into yourself easily as you cut through the crowd. This case was going to be the death of you and Bernard’s eulogy would just be a very short but satisfying ‘I told you so’. 

 Mercifully, you find a quieter area. You would have preferred to go outside but standing alone in a dark alley in skimpy underwear might be a bad idea. You flatten yourself against a wall and close your eyes. Maybe you could tell them you aren’t feeling well which isn’t entirely untrue. You felt sick being this vulnerable. You should probably leave before you do something stupid. 

 A hand on your wrist drags you back to reality. It takes absolutely everything in you not to break his wrist. You open your eyes to see Klineberg hoovering in your personal space. 

 “Are you ok?” He asks, the concern in his voice sounding synthetic. You try to wriggle out of his hold not bothering to hide your discomfort. You note how his smile seems to get bigger as you struggled more. Clearly, he was enjoying your discomfort. 

   “Thanks for finding her for me. The manager said she’d be in this general area but it’s quite hard to see with just one eye.” Slade says casually, settling a large hand on the man’s shoulder. Your heart stops. Of all the people you had to run into-

  Klineberg eyes him skeptically. You have to respect him for that. You’ve faced Slade several times before, only making it out due to luck or hours of planning. If you were Klineberg, you’d be pissing yourself. Despite the almost friendly expression Slade had on him, you can tell this wasn’t up for negotiation. And apparently, so can Klineberg seeing how he dropped your hand. 

 Slade waves a neatly dressed man over. The man eyes you appraisingly and your heart takes an express elevator to your throat. Were you that obviously out of place? 

 “We’ll be taking a room.”

 “Of course, sir,” The man answers politely, finally, taking his eyes off of you and handing Slade a key. 

 Wait. We?

 Slade starts walking without a word, the crowd parting for him easily.  You briefly look back at Klineberg who is still looking at you like he’s going to tear you apart with his bare hands before following Slade.  

 You walk behind him wordlessly. Your mind is still reeling from the fact that Slade ‘Deathstroke: The Terminator’ Wilson just saved you from your target and your own terrible acting and is mortified by the fact that he has now seen you in skimpy lingerie. The steps you take are measured, making sure to stick close to him but not too close.  You keep your eyes to the ground as you walk behind him, hoping it’s enough to hide the expressions cycling through your face. 

 You two enter a room. It was unexpectedly spacious even under the dim neon lights. You look around finding the room furnished with expensive decorations looking nothing like the seedy gentlemen’s clubs you’ve busted before save for the pole in the middle of the room. It looked more akin to an expensive hotel bar, again, save for the pole. The darkness of the room and the quiet flow of the music set quite the intimate atmosphere which just made you that more skittish. 

 Slade makes his way across the room, eyes searching the corners and spaces of the room. He nods seemingly satisfied with the setup and likely not spotting any recording devices. Your stiff shoulders loosen a bit, if nothing else you could at least speak plainly now. 

 Slade takes his suit jacket off, revealing broad shoulders and the outline of strong back muscles. Your throat dries. Something warm stirs in you and you’re gawking again. God, you really need a better reaction to attractive people. 

 Slade holds out a glass of whiskey to you, a playful smile on his handsome face. He doesn’t seem to mind you staring at him. You swear viciously not skimping on colorful words but walk over to take the alcohol regardless. It’s on his tab and you honestly needed some alcohol in your system if you’re going to talk to him.

 “So, working for the cops not work out for you?”

 “Nah, my last sugar daddy just kicked the bucket, so I’m looking for a new one,” you say, giving Slade a wry smile.  You watch him cross one leg over another easing into a relaxed position through the wall. It was polished to a mirror shine. You guess that’s the kind of thing rich people liked. 

 “Hmmm, that can be arranged.” You choke on your drink. You scowl at him. He simply shrugs at you taking a sip of his whiskey. 

 You hear the door open, forcing you to pretend to be civil. A man around your age, dressed in a classic waiter’s outfit comes in with a tray of whiskey and two glasses. You don’t know how but you can tell the whiskey is worth more than your apartment. This doesn’t help your urge to punch Slade. 

“Will you be requiring any special toys tonight, sir?” The straightforward tone of the question makes you stiffen more than anything. The man’s eyes flicker towards you but his focus remains squarely on Slade who eyes you openly before smiling and saying “No, thanks, Anthony. I think we’ll be just fine.”

 "If you say so, sir. Please feel free to let us know if you need anything." 

 You wait for Anthony to leave before turning the full force of your scowl at Slade.“How the hell did you know his name?”

 Slade regards you impassively over the rim of his glass. You refuse to break eye contact.  He raises his hands in mock surrender.  “Alright, Kitten, you caught me. I do frequent this club quite a bit.”

 “You kinky shit.”

 He eyes you again, his eye clearly tracing your curves. “I’m not the one sitting here in their underwear with a collar on. Speaking of which-” Slade nods his head towards something in front of both of you. 

 You look at the pole, blinking dumbly as a smile spreads across his face. He tips his head to it. “I did pay for your time and the customer is always right.”

 Your mouth twists into a snarl as the tips of your ears run red. “You are insufferable.”

 “Don’t make me call the manager.” You sigh at the unspoken ‘it is definitely going to blow your cover and get you shot. At best.’ and begrudgingly you make your way to the pole. 

 You grip the pole in front of you, flexing your fingers against the cold metal. Anxiety thrums under your skin. Your eyes flick nervously to Slade who’s got the audacity to sit comfortably, sip whiskey, and smirk at you as if he was completely in his element. 

 “No need to be shy. Be a good girl and give us a good show,” he says, winking at you. Your hackles rise and your face pulls into a frown before rearranging itself into a sultry smile. You put one heel in front of you, hooking your leg around the pole and grinding your clothed sex into the metal in an undulating motion that has Slade clenching his hand around his glass. You try your hardest to grin and you suspect you’ve failed. Not that Slade’s noticed considering his eye is laser-focused on your ass. 

 With your one leg on the floor, you push yourself into a spin. Your body tips back as your hand runs down your face, chest, and abdomen drawing attention to the plains of exposed skin and delicate fabric accenting your shape. Pulling your body back up, you let your body slide down to the floor. Your legs split as soon as you made contact with the floor giving him a full view of your ass. He whistles appreciatively, tilting his head. You watch him through thick lashes, eyes bright and predatory under the neon lights. You roll onto your hand and knees. He smiles down at you watching the sweat drip down the valley of your breasts.  You were a sight to behold. 

 Slade pats his knee. “Come here, kitten.” Hunger flashes in his blue eye. It sends a warm shock through your system. It’s odd being looked at like that but you can’t feel yourself getting too concerned over it. Not when it sends a pleasant hum through your mind. 

 You crawl towards him in time with the movement, slow and steady in its place. Stopping in front of him. A large hand grasps your chin, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.  

 You sit on his lap, hand grasping his broad shoulder. Embarrassment floods back into your system now that you’re this close, now that you had the full force of that hungry gaze on you. You feel your skin heat and the weight of his gaze makes your stomach flip. 

 Seduction was other people’s gig, not yours. 

 Large hands settle on your waist, pressing circles into your skin. The buzzing feeling in your brain returns and you refocus on your task. His hands slide down the side of your body, fingers digging into your hips. His hands follow the circular motions your hips make on his crotch and guides you over the growing bulge. You hear his breath catch and hiss as you grind down on his crotch. You wrap your hands around the silk tie dangling from his neck and roughly pull him into a kiss.  

 His fingers dig into the meat of your ass drawing an embarrassingly loud yelp from you and giving him access to your mouth. You suck on his tongue and receive a pleased groan from him. Your tongues wrestle for control as he kneads your ass, making you mewl and moan into the kiss. You break the kiss needing air while Slade admires his work. 

 When Slade dips in for another kiss, you pull away pushing off of his broad chest a flirty smile dancing across your features. You turn from him, heels clicking against the floor as your show off the lushness of your figure.  In the mirror, you see Slade settling back into his position and grinning at the corners of the room again. His arms relax on the back of the couch. 

You close your eyes and let the music swallow you whole. You don’t dare hazard a glance at the mirror. You sashay your hips to the music, loosening your tense muscles. You open your eyes giving Slade your best seductive smile. You run your hands up your body, tangling into your hair. 

 You bite your lip as you slide them back down. Your fingers catch against the collar. Slade’s mouth twists.  

 You ease your arms out of your bra and let it drop to the floor. Your nipples pebble in the cold night air. The sight of them makes the corners of Slade’s mouth twitch. You push past the warmth stirring in your stomach in favor of trailing your hands down your body. Your fingers toy with the straps of your panties, watching as Slade licks his lips in anticipation.  You slide the flimsy garment down your legs, bending over and giving him a good view of your wet pussy through the mirror. 

 Stepping out of them, you toss them at Slade, who just to be an asshole, catches and pockets them. He grins at you and shrugs unapologetically. You scowl at him putting as much venom into your features as much as possible.      

You sway your lush hips in time with the music, letting the slow beat dictate the rhythm of your movements as you saunter towards him. You swallow, the silk collar still wound tightly around your neck. The intensity of his gaze makes you painfully aware of your nakedness but the embarrassment heating your skin shoots straight to your core, making you shudder. 

 Reaching him, you straddle his thighs, your plump ass grazing over his growing bulge. You moan, mouth-watering at the sensation. Your mind dwells on the feeling, your insides growing slick at the thought of him inside you. 

 Your fingers trail up your thighs and up over your stomach. You watch as his eye follows the slow tantalizing movement. His large hands grip onto the plush headrest of the couch, squeezing them as his face twists just a smidge with a mix of exertion and frustration. 

 You give him a playful smile as you slow the gyrating of your hips. A growl rumbles from his chest and you snap your hips back against his erection, the loose movement of your body hypnotic like ocean waves. Tipping your head back into his shoulder, exposing the column of your throat to him. Your hips continue to undulate against him, feeling the deep bass of the music ripple through your body along with the shockwaves of heat coming from your core as you grind it against his bulge. The coarse feeling of the fabric against your core making your knees grow weak.  

 A sinful moan tumbles out of your lips followed closely by breathy panting. You let your eyes slide shut soaking up the sensation of his suit against your skin. You reach behind you hooking your arms around Slade’s broad shoulders to steady yourself as your press closer to his large form. He presses his lips to your neck, the prickle of his beard against your skin making you shiver. “Yeah, just like that, kitten,” he murmurs against your skin, a large hand settling on your thigh.

 You push further into him. You grind your hips, the movement deep and slow. Your hand tangles in his hair, gently guiding him to your lips. Your lips move against each other just as your bodies do, slow and sensual. You catch his lips between your teeth, nipping at it. He chuckles at your invitation, sliding his tongue inside your mouth and joining your lips once again. Below you, you feel another large hand hook onto your thigh. Both hands grip your thighs fiercely pulling them further apart, exposing your sopping pussy to the cold night air. 

 Slade breaks away from your kiss, his panting breaths hot fanning your face. You stare at each other with half-lidded eyes, lust bright in them even in the low light. He captures your lips again in a quick kiss before planting one on your shoulder. “Play with yourself,” he says, the command steady and rough against your ear. 

 The tone of his voice makes you shiver as you reluctantly release your hold on his shoulders. Keeping one hand tangled in his hair, you slowly slide your hand down your body, mewling into his skin when you reach into your neglected folds. You slip two fingers in immediately. You shudder and bite your lips trying to stop any obscene sounds from escaping. 

 A hand tilts your chin, coaxing you. “Good girl, look at yourself. Look just how wet you are just for me, kitten,” Slade says, nibbling at your ear. You yelp, your hips bucking into your hand, ass rolling against his member. You watch yourself in the mirror red-faced, open-mouthed, and sinful. Your dripping sex is in full view only obscured by your hand as your fingers dip in and out of your core. Slade’s eye never leaves the mirror even as he plants kisses against your skin. His large hand grasps your neck making sure you don’t look away from the mirror. You think of how easily he could break you and you feel like you’re on fire. 

 You're so close.  You’re so so close. You can even see the desperation carving itself so plainly on your face. Anxiety and arousal mix into a potent cocktail in your gut. The nervousness from earlier rearing its ugly head. You whine in frustration, adding in a third finger but you can’t seem to reach over the edge. You hear him chuckle behind you and see him grin into your skin. At least, one of you was having fun. 

 He gives your shoulder another rough kiss, leaving a mark before speaking. “Having some trouble, kitten?” You wrinkle your nose at his tone but...in truth, you were. You bite your lip not knowing what to say. You’re so close but… the venue made you shy and that was an entirely different problem.  Using the hand on your neck, Slade tilts your head towards him, the heat from his lips ghosting over yours. “All you have to do is ask for help, kitten,” he murmurs against your lips. The vibrations send another shockwave of desperation wreaking havoc throughout your already oversensitive body. 

 He tilts your head back to look at the mirror. You can feel your ears warm at the thought of begging but you’re a hair’s breadth away from your end. Biting your lips and furrowing your brow, you take a steadying breath but it still comes out breathy when you exhale due to the hand squeezing your thigh drifting closer to your core. He presses slow circles into your inner thigh with his thumb, his teeth nibbling at your shoulder leaving marks. A vicious curse leaves your lips blunted by a moan that follows it. 

 “Slade, please. Please. Sir, please.”

 “Please what, Kitten? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

 You tighten your grip on his hair and roll your hips against his. He growls in your ear but he doesn’t budge. “Use your words, kitten,” he commands, sounding far more patient than he actually is. You whimper, rocking against him. He holds you still, fingers digging into your flesh and body leaning into yours. “Words.”

 You pant, hot breaths loud in your ears. Whether it was his or your own you were hearing, you didn’t know and didn’t care, not when your head was jumbled with the buzzing under your skin. You swallow. His eye following the movement of your throat and the silver glint of your tag winking at you in the mirror. “Slade- Sir, please- Please, I need you. I need you inside me.”

 “That wasn’t too hard now was it?” He says capturing your lips in a rough kiss. You scream against his lips when you feel two large calloused fingers thrust into your core, stretching you replacing the ache in your core with a burning stretch. Slade releases you, steadying you so that your eyes are once again on the mirror. You both watch as his fingers pump in and out of you, the room filling up with your moans. “Keep your eyes on the mirror and watch as I make you cum.”

 He presses his thumb against your clit. The syllables of his name coming out garbled and incoherent. You cum with a whimper. Your body shakes uncontrollably, your bones melting. Your lungs take in greedy gulps of oxygen feeling like the wind’s been knocked out of them. Slade lets your head lull back against his shoulder. You press little kisses against the powerful muscles of his neck. “Thank you, sir.”

 Slade removes his fingers from your pussy, leaving you feeling empty. “Clean up the mess you made,” he orders, pressing wet fingers against your lips. You open your mouth letting them in. You slide your eyes shut and swirl your tongue around them. You bob your head taking them in deep. You moan, rocking your hips against his still hard cock, letting yourself imagine what it would be like to take him into your mouth. Your enthusiasm earns you a hiss from Slade. You smile as you continue to suck on his fingers and rock your body, the fire in the pit of your stomach reigniting. You flutter your eyes open. In the mirror, you see Slade, brow raised and mouth wrangled into a shape of wry amusement. “See, I knew you were a good girl,” he says voice strained. You grind your ass into him as you moan around his fingers. You gasp when a rough hand grasps your breast, nipple pinched between calloused fingers. 

 “Are you that hungry for my cock, kitten?” he asks, removing his fingers from your lips. Both your lips and his fingers glisten with your saliva. You nod not trusting your voice to be steady. He thankfully accepts it.  

 “Well, have at it,” he says, hands repositioning themselves on the back of the couch easing into a more relaxed position and looking as smug as humanly possible. He really is getting his money’s worth out of this. You shift your body making sure you brush up against his erect member as you did so. He looks almost pained when you finally face him. You drag your hands up and down his shirt, his muscles barely hidden by the soft silky material. You lick your lips, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. You slide yourself down his body, hands kneading and worshipping every stretch of muscle they come across. Fuck, they feel so good to your touch. 

 Getting to your knees, you rest your cheek against his knee. You let mischief shape your features. He quirks his brow at you, tilting his strong jaw urging you to move on. You massage his thighs as you pull yourself up. You undo his belt tossing it to the side. You pinch the zipper of his pants between your teeth and pull it down, grinning as you do it. Slade lifts his hips a bit to help you ease his pants and boxers down. Your mouth waters visibly when his cock springs free in all its glory. You gulp audibly as you figure the logistics of fitting all of it into your mouth. 

 “Take your time, Kitten. I’ve requested you for the whole night. We have time.” He drawls, smug. You roll your eyes at him finally deciding that head-on was the only way to tackle this. You lick a strip up his member paying special attention to the large vein running down the middle. You flick your eyes up to him, seeing his muscles tense. You grasp the base of his cock tight in your hand, kissing the tip and giving the slit a long, languid lick. The taste of precum wakes your taste buds. You hum, sucking lightly at the head, your hand twisting up and down his cock. His jaw tightens, the strain of keeping his hips still tightening the muscles of his thighs. 

 You spread your legs wide as you sink your head down taking him in and giving him a good view of your wet pussy. You take him in as far as you can, gagging when the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. The corners of your eyes sting with tears. You still yourself, letting your throat relax around him. You pull yourself back up. Your plush lips massage his length as you go and your warm hand not trailing far behind. You keep your mouth on the head of his cock before sinking back down. His sheer girth is sure to make your jaw ache but you couldn’t make yourself care, not when you’re growing wetter the more you worship his cock. Slade for his part looked like he was gonna tear the couch apart every time you sank down to take is cock on, the fluttering walls of your throat driving him up the wall. The soft music of the room was now barely audible against the mingling sounds of your moans. Slade’s unrestrained voice was dripped with whiskey and sin. 

 His cock twitches in your throat and it’s the only warning you get before cum splashes against the back of your throat and fills your mouth. You choke but when your eyes meet his, the muscles of your throat work automatically to swallow his load. The movement followed closely by his eye. You pull back, light-headed. He grabs your chin, tilting it up to inspect your mouth. He hums satisfied.  “Kitten, that mouth of yours is definitely worth more than the price of admission.” He says brushing a thumb against your bottom lip as you pant. 

 A familiar ache in your core returns when your eyes land on Slade’s still hardened cock.  

 “Of course, a little cockslut like you wouldn’t be satisfied ‘til you’ve been filled,” he chuckles pulling you into his lap so that you’re facing the mirror, your dripping pussy hovering over his saliva covered cock. The throbbing head teasing against your sensitive folds. He kisses your shoulder, his teeth pinching your skin leaving another red bruise. You whine as he guides your hips, moving them to ever so slightly brush your core against his cock. 

 “Sir, please. I need you. I- I need you to fuck me,” you beg, hands tangling in his hair and eyes watching his member in pained hunger. You sound so needy but you also needed him inside you filling you up. 

 Slade hums in your ear approvingly. He pinches your ear lobe between his teeth, making you keen. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” That was the only warning you got before his hands guide your hips down onto his engorged cock. Your walls flutter with every inch, stretching you with every inch. A hand cups your breast while he continues to guide you down onto his cock. Rough calloused fingers knead your breast as he whispers compliments into your skin in between kisses. The cacophony of sensations is almost too much for you. 

 “Such a good cockslut, look at how well that tight cunt of yours is taking me in.” You roll your hips, urging him to quicken his maddeningly slow pace. He simply chuckles at your attempt as both his hands steady your hips. You almost cry in relief when he finally bottoms out. You pant savoring the burning stretch tearing at your insides. Pleasure and pain mingling in your sense.  

 Slade rests his chin against your shoulder, lips pressed to the shell of your ear. “Kitten, I want to watch you fuck yourself on my cock,” he says, in a low commanding tone making you shiver and leaving no room for arguments. You grip on to his arms, nails digging into the meat of his muscle, to steady yourself. You lean forward to get yourself into a better angle. 

 Ah ah ah

 Breathy moans and the slap of skin against skin filled the air as you roll your hips against his. You watch yourself in the mirror, breasts bouncing, mouth hanging open, and tongue lolling out getting lost in the pleasure. The mixture of shadow and light highlighting and isolating the frantic need carving itself onto both of your faces. The coil in your stomach twists as your eyes meet his in the mirror. Icy blues trailing up and down your body possessively.   

 His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it gently as he trails kisses up your spine. Your hips stutter, your walls squeezing around his cock. “You like that?” he whispers into your ear, putting just the tiniest bit more pressure around your neck. You feel your walls flutter around him and he moans in your ear. His other hand squeezes at your hip, nails digging into your soft flesh.     

 With a growl, he snaps his hips against yours almost violent in its intensity. You let out a loud yelp. Slade jackhammers into you like a madman, pummeling your pussy. His tongue dragging against your sweat-covered skin.  “Cum with me, Kitten,” he grinds out, nipping at your ear. Your pussy clenches and unclenches around him trying to squeeze his cock, gripping him as if not wanting to let go of it. He bites a hickey into your neck and you feel the coil in your stomach burst. You feel a flood of warmth fill your aching core as Slade lets himself go. 

 He turns your body around to face him, careful not to separate you two. He pulls you into a deep kiss as both of you ride out your orgasms. 

 Your body slumps against Slade’s, head resting on his shoulder and chest pressing against his. Your breaths come out in puffs fanning against his neck. Slade presses a kiss to your forehead. You yawn and kiss his throat, his pulse hot against your lips. 

 “Satisfied?” he asks, pulling your wrist to his lips nipping and leaving marks on it. You wonder just how many marks he’s left on you and if he’s technically allowed to do that. It just seems bad for business. 

 “Yes, sir,” you answer, nuzzling into his shoulder. He chuckles, rubbing his large hands soothingly over your aching muscles. He holds you tenderly for a while, both of you basking in the afterglow.  

 Through thick lashes, you see Slade look at his watch. You whine when he starts to shift. Wrapping your arms around him, you press your body closer. You see his brow wrinkle and have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. Sucker. 

 Slade gives you another kiss as he reluctantly extricates himself from your warmth. You shiver at the motion. Your oversensitive walls flutter making him groan. You whimper at the feeling of emptiness as he gently places you on the soft cushions of the couch. He places another kiss on your forehead then your shoulder then your wrist as he drapes his jacket over you. “Sorry, kitten, I have some business I need to take care of,” he says tucking himself back into his pants. “But if you feel like a repeat performance, feel free to come back,” he continues, fixing his shirt as he grins down at you. Your stomach flips despite how tired you feel. 

 You watch him walk away then stop. “Oh and I’ll be keeping these,” he teases, holding up your panties and tucking them back into his pocket. You try to sit up intent on throwing the entire bottle of whiskey at him but your limbs fail you, still feeling like jelly.

  The next time you open your eyes is when you feel someone patting your cheek lightly. 

 “March,” Anthony’s voice comes out in a haze. It takes a second for your mind to recognize the name as your alias. You take a deep breath trying to quell the panic from being woken up. 

 “What time is it?”

 “A quarter past one.”

 Good, you’ve only been asleep for an hour.  

 “Thanks.”

 “You’re pretty lucky. Looks like Mr. Wilson was feeling generous,” Anthony laughs, thumb pointing to the stack of cash by the whiskey. 

 That asshole. 

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Thanks for reading! 

a/n: This will be a 3 part series because I am thirsty as hell. 

  Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage , @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

[consumedkings-archive]

THE LAND OF GODS AND DEVILS, a sequel.

—part i.

word count: 6k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: naughty language, massively canon-divergent, roman gets his own tag because he's a fucking nutso, canon-typical violence, established relationship that might not be the healthiest, age gap, domestic murder family. for this chapter in specific, roman likes to take things to the Extreme (i.e., "i'm going to fucking kms if you say this word one more time") but if you're here i imagine you know exactly what he's about.

notes: it's here! i know that most of my followers and friends on here are my friends through my far cry 5 content, but my return to the fic-writing world was inspired by my first longfic in a decade after watching birds of prey. you could say, perhaps, that i have a Type(TM), given that roman sionis lives rent free in my head forever and always. this is the sequel to my work carry your throne, though i like to think it's fairy user-friendly, especially once we really get into the thick of it.

special thank you goes to my beta and the loml, @starcrier; the first person to ever truly recognize varya for the wretched little beast that she is and love her anyway. thank you for being my beta and for loving my girl!

and, of course, another special thanks goes to @shallow-gravy, @vasiktomis, @faithchel, @tomexraider, and @belorage for being so supportive of my foray out of the far cry fandom and back into one that, in a way, brought me here in the first place!

summary: —by dread things, compelled.

roman sionis is the closest he has ever been to having everything that he wants; a perfect wife, a perfect family, a perfect international black-market arms dealing business signed over to him in its entirety. unfortunately for him, there are people in the world who would prefer to see him without, and that has never been a thing that roman has accepted for himself: being without.

(or: a fic wherein the devil spends his time rebuking sin.)

“If one more person says the word ‘chandelier’ in my presence,” Roman announced, drawing all eyes to him, “I'm going to blow my fucking brains out. Got it?”

There was a brief moment of silence that lapsed before the murmured acquiescence of the workers marked their return to their work. Blowing hot air from his mouth, Roman raked his fingers through his hair and turned back around to where Zsasz was watching him expectantly.

“What?” He demanded. “It’s my wife’s birthday.” Emphasis on the my, not the wife; it was not a favor Roman was doing for Varya, it was something he was doing for himself.

“V told them she wanted it.” Zsasz gestured to the offensive piece of lighting, which continued to haunt Roman’s waking and dreaming hours with its garish crystalline drippings and expensive bulbs. Ever since Varya had found out his fluctuating approval of the chandelier, it had been in and out of the Black Mask Club more times than he could count. Not that he needed to; he could very well put in or rip out a stupid fucking light fixture as many times as he wanted.

“Well.” Roman pulled a glass out from behind the bar, setting it on the top and dropping an ice cube into it. “She does so love to torture me.”

“It's just a—”

“Do you want my fucking guts on the floor, Zsasz? I mean it. Say the word and I’ll do it.”

The blonde regarded him drily. “No, boss.”

“Blood and guts everywhere.” Roman gestured widely with his free hand. “All over the floor. The bar top. You’ll have to clean it up. Maybe wipe down some of the bottles.”

“I won’t say it.”

“I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to get blood out of the carpet.”

Zsasz’s mouth quirked up in a smile. It said, without saying anything at all, no, you don’t. More agreeably, and with the flash of pearly whites and the capped tooth: “Sure.”

Roman poured well over what would have been considered the polite amount of expensive scotch into his glass, capping the bottle and setting it aside. It had been exactly twenty-four hours of making sure the club was perfectly polished and styled for Varya's birthday; though she was shrewd, she was so preoccupied with the twins and the lawyers and overseas business associates that she barely seemed to notice whatever was coming in and out of the Black Mask Club. He didn’t think she’d had a baby nor a phone out of her hands in over two days, and truthfully, it was starting to become tedious. Now that the twins were a little over a year old, they were supposed to be scheduling their honeymoon.

The delay of it hadn’t been a big deal, at the start. But everyday with you feels like my honeymoon, Varya had demurred months before the twins’ arrival, fluttering her lashes and gliding her fingers along the lapel of his jacket—and not even an hour after she’d curtly informed him that any more chatter, while she was nursing a headache, would be met with a swift and efficient extraction of his vocal cords by her own hands. Motherhood was supposed to have domesticated her, Roman thought, and had done the exact opposite; now, she was more assured of her status and power than ever.

So, yes; Varya had been busy, and he was almost certain she’d forgotten her own birthday. Never mind that everything had to be perfect. Never mind that it had to be immaculate. Never mind that Varya had deigned to order a brand new fucking chandelier from the same place they’d gotten one last time, knowing full well that he had made the executive decision to gut the fucking thing and get it out of his club.

“Tell you what, Zsasz,” Roman muttered, taking a swallow of the amber liquid in his glass, “don’t ever get fucking married. You want someone knowing all the shit that pushes your buttons all the time?”

“Maybe you just got a button pusher for a wife.”

Roman grimaced and took another swallow. It was true. “Fuck off.”

The blonde opened his mouth to say something else—and hadn’t he gotten confident in himself too, since Varya had become such a permanent fixture in their life, constantly goading and coercing him to voice his opinion on things, things that normally he would just defer to Roman on—when the doors to the stairwell and the elevator opened.

Eclipsing the doorway was Armazd, Varya’s hand-picked-from-the-batch-of-Russians-left-over-guard. Armazd had to be easily cresting six-foot-five, his dark beard neatly trimmed and peppered with silver, a scar breaking the color of his top lip. Roman had only ever seen the man swathed in dark clothes, like a fucking mourner on parade. His wife had been the one picked to be the twins' nanny, despite the fact that Roman felt like she barely did anything.

Also hand-picked. Thoroughly vetted. Interrogated for hours. No stone left unturned, when it came to Yuli and Ro.

“What are you doing down here?” Roman barked, coming around the side of the bar to make his way across the room. “You’re supposed to be going up and keeping—”

“She is coming down,” Armazd clarified. “In the elevator. Irina called to tell me.”

“Instead of stopping her?”

“She was—”

The elevator dinged in the hallway, and Roman quickly ducked around Armazd and closed the door into the club behind him. As soon as the doors slid open, he planted a smile on his face and closed the distance between himself and his wife.

Nobody would know, looking at Varya, that she not only barely utilized the nanny that they had furiously vetted and now paid handsomely, but that on top of juggling their twins she was actively in the process of getting a massive, international gun-running business signed over in his name. There was not a single hair out of place, not a single crease or rumple in the sapphire-blue silk of her blouse or skirt; the scent of her preferred jasmine perfume followed her like a cloud. She looked as put-together as the day he’d first seen her standing in his club.

And now, he desperately needed her to stay out of it.

“Kitten,” he greeted warmly, his hands—though gloved—immediately scratching the itch by reaching for her; they captured hers to carefully still her procession to the club’s main room. “What are you doing down here? I thought you’d be busy for hours.”

“Yuliana has been fussing nonstop,” Varya replied, her voice light despite what could only have been an expression of frustration quickly following, “all while I listen to grown men fussing nonstop at me on the phone.”

Roman feigned a sympathetic noise, bringing her hands up to his mouth to kiss them. “We have a nanny, V.”

“You know better than anyone else,” the brunette murmured, brushing her nose against his as their hands dropped, “that she is inconsolable without you.”

He tried not to look too pleased. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Don’t be modest, Romy.”

“Well, I’ll come up, of course.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “And console our princess.” Another kiss, to the other corner. “So that you can continue letting grown men fuss at you.”

She beamed at him prettily, and finally they met in the middle for a real kiss—nothing coy, nothing demure, but lingering warm and just between the two of them.

“I love you,” she purred. “Go on, then.”

And then Varya pulled away, as though to go around him and into the club, and Roman blinked rapidly. He had only just caught her around the waist before she could walk in and pulled her in a full one-eighty until she was facing the elevator again.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I was just going to make myself a drink.”

“Encouraging productivity,” Roman replied, hitting the button for the elevator doors to open again. “Ready for all this paperwork to be done, aren’t you? It’s been over a year.”

A year of wading through mafia-esque bureaucracy. A year of listening to Varya say, these things take time. A busy year, to be sure, jam-packed full of things—the biggest wedding in Gotham since its founding, the twins.

A funeral.

Roman tried more and more every day not to think about his (now) brother-in-law’s funeral, the double burial of the only man that might have stood a chance at being loved by Varya more than Roman himself and the only man who had ever been anything like a father figure to her. Family is tedious, he’d wanted to say, brothers and fathers and mothers, the whole lot of them, cut them loose why don’t you? Why should anyone matter to you outside of the twins and I?

Varya glanced at him over her shoulder. “These things take time.”

He rolled his eyes. “Mhm.”

“Not to mention, we were a little busy,” she added, eyes narrowing playfully as he nudged her into the elevator, “you know—having children.”

“And what beautiful children they are.” Roman hit the button without looking, the doors sliding shut behind him.

“Well, how am I supposed to suffer through those phone calls without a stiff drink?”

He quirked a brow upward. “I’ll make you a stiff drink, Mrs. Sionis.”

The brunette propped herself up against the back rail of the elevator as it whirred into motion. The corner of her mouth, painted ruby, curved and her head tilted inquisitively. “Oh?”

“Of course,” he demurred, sidling forward and boxing her in against the wall. “I’ll make you a stiff drink—”

He dropped his head to the slope of her jaw to plant a kiss there.

“—you’ll finish up with the lawyers, and put on the dress I bought you—”

Varya hummed and sighed sweetly.

“—we’ll go out to dinner for your birthday—”

He dropped his hands to her hips, planting a kiss on her temple so that he could rumble, “And we can get to work on baby number three, hm?”

A sweet laugh billowed out of her just as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open to bring to Roman the oh-so-sweet sounds of a caterwauling infant. Over the distressed crying was Irina’s voice, shushing and cooing dulcet words in Russian; he could see her swaying to and fro with a swathe of fabric bundled in her arms.

“I almost forgot about my birthday,” Varya said thoughtfully, completely unrattled by the sound of their daughter’s distress. She stepped out from between him and the elevator wall; Roman fell into step beside her easily, the sound of her heels clipping against the floor enough to draw Irina’s eyes to them.

Roman said, “I know you did,” and did not bother to hide his smugness as he held out his arms for the shrieking baby in Irina’s arms. The redhead regarded him with a sort of weary amusement before she acquiesced; with Yuliana safely in his arms, he watched Varya cross the room to turn the automatic rocker that held their son back on to a slow, lulling pace. The freckled infant babbled happily—ever the quieter of the twins—and as Varya said something to Irina in Russian that inspired the woman to depart to the kitchen, she absently picked up a baby blanket from the couch and wandered over to him.

“Yuli,” she murmured, waving her finger at the already-content infant, tucking the blanket around her “is that all you wanted, hm? Just for your papa to hold you?”

“What else could she want for?” he replied confidently. Soothing Yuliana’s fury had become old-hat for him at this point. And, certainly, it pleased him to know that sometimes, the only thing that would make his daughter stop screaming was being held by him. Not even Varya—who had taken to motherhood like a fish to water—bothered when she was in a fit.

Still, the brunette sighed dreamily, her finger captured by their daughter’s tiny hand before she said, “What a perfect little gem.”

Roman hummed his agreement. “Finishing that call with the lawyers?”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Varya replied. “They’re in a mood today.”

“They’re in a mood every day.” Russians, he thought venomously.

“Yes.” She smiled, flashing pearly teeth at him. “But only today is my birthday.”

She had him there. Still, he was itching for the whole thing to be done—Ilarion had dragged his feet through the process of even drawing up the original contract, which had only been a spit in his face (“You are the only person who gets to fuck Varya Astakhova, that is as exclusive as it gets”) and by the time all of that nasty business had been wrapped up, Ilarion was dead.

Ilarion, and Nikita—leaving only a single living soul to be in charge of the Astakhov empire: Varya herself.

Which, she had expressed time and time again, she had no desire for; not in the public way that her father had done it, and Ilarion after them. She much preferred the clerical work of it all. Paperwork and public relations. Let the men do men’s work, she’d demurred one night, tangled up in their sheets, when he’d asked her what she was going to do with it. I don’t mind. They like me better as their madonna, anyway.

“You know,” she continued, breaking him out of his thoughts as she made her way to the bar cart, pouring herself a drink, “they will like you more if it’s you they’re talking to.”

“I don’t give a fuck if they like me or not,” Roman replied, lifting Yuliana with both of his hands so that he could look at her. “Isn’t that right, princess? Mommy gets to do all the paperwork so that your papa can spend all of his time with you, instead of listening to some dumbfucks bitch and moan on the phone.” He glanced at her. “Well, anyway, since it’s your birthday we can let it slide.”

“Very generous of you.”

“Get dressed, won’t you?” he prompted, depositing his now-content daughter in the mobile swing with her brother. “The table’s been ready for us since noon.”

Varya watched him, dark eyes glittering amusedly. “And why, my darling, did you make the reservation for noon? It’s nearly six now.”

“Because,” he replied, “I wanted to make sure they held it, regardless of how long it took us to get there.”

“Ah.” She lifted her chin a little, lashes fluttering with contentment when he reached up and brushed the hair from her face. “Or else?”

Roman flashed her a grin.

“Or else.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They held the table.

“Good for them,” Roman said as they followed the server out onto the balcony. The table had clearly been refreshed—a new candle, a new vase, a new bucket of ice and bottle of champagne. He’d heard the waitstaff whispering furiously among themselves as they idled in the lobby to be taken to their table; now, settled across from the birthday girl, Roman was content with the way they had squirmed.

“Quicker than the two-hour wait last time,” Varya noted by way of agreement, smoothing her hand along the edge of the tablecloth.

He scoffed. The only reason they had waited in the lobby for two hours was because Varya had asked him to stay for the table she wanted. If it had been his way, they would have left with a bloody warning and gone somewhere else. “I can’t believe I finally convinced you to leave the twins home for a night and we got stuck sitting in that fucking lobby because they gave our table away.”

“In my defense, they are good babies, Romy. Hardly ever cry. Certainly not too much trouble.”

“But there’s two of them,” he replied, “and toting two babies around is a lot of work. All I’m saying is, what’s the point of paying her that much fucking money if we’re just going to—”

The waiter came by the table, clearly a little stressed; the lines of concern on his face were clear as he cleared his throat and said, “Should I come back?”

Varya, perusing the menu: “No, my darling, you may stay. You were saying, Romy?”

“I just don’t know why we’re shoveling money into her bank account for her to be a glorified accent chair in our house rather than a nanny.” Roman gestured to the champagne bottle expectantly. “Open it.”

The waiter did as he asked, having been standing there uncomfortably for a moment during their exchange. As he worked to carefully open the champagne bottle, Roman turned his attention back to Varya; her eyes remained on the menu, absently twisting the engagement and wedding band on her finger back and forth.

There was no way, he thought, that she was putting off getting the business signed over to him on purpose. Surely, there was no way; even when Ilarion was alive, even when she had anticipated no further problems, it had always been, if you’re going to be my romantic partner, it seems only right you’d be my partner in business too, don’t you think? And yet—

And yet, Roman could not push down the strange, hazy doubt that occasionally flickered through his mind. He had always wanted Varya, had always found himself wanting and wanting and wanting more and more often, and Varya had always seemed content to indulge him. There was, it seemed, nothing she enjoyed more than indulging him. One more kiss, one more minute in bed, one more lingering glance across the room. She was the absolute pinacle of his hedonism, in every sense of the word, and had proven time and time again that she would give him anything that he wanted.

The business had always been for her and Ilarion. He wanted it, and told her he did, and she said, you can have it, if you like, but like in all things, there was a slyness about his wife—a cruelty—that he found endearing and dangerous. Dangerous, because it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been on the other end of her cruel nature, playfully poking and unwinding and tugging the thread loose until she had pushed him to the limit.

Something echoed in his head, and he realized that the waiter was asking him what he wanted to eat. Varya had handed the menu over and steepled her fingers, watching him with dark, curious eyes and red painted lips, sooty lashes fluttering. A pretty, painted little snake.

“I’ll take whatever she’s having,” Roman said after a moment, setting his menu aside and returning his attention to the brunette across from him. “Something interesting, kitten?”

“Can I not just appreciate my husband?” Varya demurred. “You’re wearing the suit I like best, after all.”

“It is your birthday. What greater gift is there than me?”

She laughed, delighted by him—as she always was—and took a sip of her champagne. “You were away from me, for a moment.”

He watched her, gauging her carefully. Even I know not to drop my pants when a viper opens its mouth, Bianchi had said, just before Varya had unloaded six rounds into his face and chest less than two feet away from him.

“Just thinking,” is what Roman said finally.

“Hm. A dangerous past time.”

His expression flattened, deadpan. “It’s taken a significant chunk of time to secure your father’s business in my name.”

Something flickered across Varya’s expression. at the word father. “To secure my business,” Varya replied, her voice abrupt and cutting, her eyes narrowed, “in your name.” Absently, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked to be composing herself, like she’d spoken on a knee-jerk reaction rather than with thinking.

Then, glossy and silken again: “You know your patience means the world to me, Romy.”

There was nothing that he loved more than watching her pull back her venom for him. Drumming his fingers against the top of the table, Roman bridled his own irritation to say, mildly, “I’d do anything for you. Even wait...” He made a thoughtful noise. “Over a year to finally take on the responsiblities you wanted handed over to me.”

“Of course.” Varya smiled prettily, absently straightening out her silverware. “And we will speak no more of my father on my birthday, or any day after this.”

He knew what that meant. She phrased it pretty, wrapped it up in silk and velvet and presented it to him as unassuming as a doe, but he knew what that meant. There is my button, she was saying, there is my trip wire. Don’t push it, Roman. The name Nikita had all but been banned in their household, even when funeral arrangements were being made; any time he’d heard one of the lawyers mention her father’s name, there had been a sharp rebuke. Not in my presence, she would tell him later, I do not want to hear that fucking name in my presence.

“At any rate, there is nothing that I want more than for this whole process to be done,” she continued lightly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “It was always what I wanted, you know. Ilya was better suited to be a functional piece of the business; he was the face because he had to be, not because he wanted to be, and I am better suited for the nitpicking and the details. Being the overseer is much more in your circle of talents, Romy.”

Her words assauged something unsettled and prickly in him, the sweep of the pad of her thumb across the back of his hand returning that doubtful monster in his mind back to its slumber. He sighed.

“You’re right,” he acquiesced after a moment, “it is more in my circle of talents.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“I always got the impression Ilarion wasn’t happy with it,” he added. “Though you two certainly enjoyed making work of me that first night, didn’t you?”

Varya smiled demurely. “It was never meant to make work of you, only to make a good impression.”

“Hm,” he replied, eyes narrowing playfully, “but you enjoy pushing me, V.”

She looked pleased. She always did, when he remarked on something that felt like he was really seeing her, beneath the glossy veneer. His girl did so love being seen.

“Only,” V demurred, “because you so enjoy reining me in.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Roman brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before relinquishing it and glancing around. He would just have to exercise patience, of which he had the most; patience, modesty, and humility, all excellent qualities that he could participate in at will, at any given time. Without any restraint.

“Did the men get the chandelier installed?” Varya idled, snapping his attention back to her. He narrowed his eyes.

“I told you I didn’t want a chandelier anymore.”

She looked at him across the table, dark doe eyes wide and innocent. “I thought you liked how polished they make the club.”

“No, you little viper,” Roman replied, clicking his tongue, “Paolo has a chandelier in his club, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to have people comparing it.”

“Ah,” she murmured, “the drama of the chandelier goes on.”

“And while we’re at it, might as well gut that one from the estate, too.”

“There’s more than one chandelier in there.”

“Then the men will be busy, won’t they?” He tsked his tongue. “I know you dream about watching me blow my top, V, but I’m making an executive decision on gaudy light fixtures.”

A smile flashed across her expression, pearly teeth and delighted eyes. She sighed, almost dreamily, like there was nothing more that she liked than to be doing this exact thing, and with him.

“Oh, Romy,” the brunette said sweetly, “you are the only thing I dream about.” And then, almost as an after thought: “Gaudy light fixture terrorism included.” She waved her hand to dismiss any protest or rebuttal he might have given her and said, “Now, since it’s my birthday, tell me all of the things you love the most about me.”

Roman sucked his teeth, eyeing her for a moment as he leaned back in the chair. Wicked little thing, waiting to preen and glow under his attention, a feline seeking him out. Her little bout of cruelty before was already forgiven. He said, “We’re going to be here for a while, if I do that.”

“They held the table for over six hours,” Varya demurred, “I’m sure they’ll hold it for as many more as you need.”

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By the time they got to the club, Varya was acting as though nothing had happened.

Truthfully, Roman preferred it that way. It just also left a lot of room to wonder—his wife was a talented actress, adept at smoothing his ruffled feathers out and not divulging her own feelings on the matter. And he wouldn’t ask, of course. If Varya wanted to express herself, she would, and had, quite openly in the past.

“I am so happy to be home,” she announced, gliding past the door to the club once Roman had opened it for her. “Do you think the babies are asleep, yet? I always miss putting them...”

Her voice trailed off, pausing a little as she seemed to realize that the club was cloaked in inky darkness, freezing just a few steps past the threshold. Roman let the door swing shut behind him, nudging her forward with a hand at the small of her back. He was met with some resistance; she steeled, stiffening against his insistence, before taking a few steps forward.

He said, barely keeping the delight out of his voice, “You’re holding up the line, V.”

“Roman,” Varya said, her voice pitched oddly soft and tight, “why—?”

The lights flashed on to a loud, unified cheer of Happy Birthday!; the club had been packed with vases of flowers, the tables donned with food and drink, and everyone worth their salt within a fifty-mile radius had made their way there. Not a single thing was out of place—everything exactly where he had instructed it be placed, and not a fucking chandelier in sight.

Roman came around in front of the brunette, grinning. “Happy—”

He stopped. Varya’s expression was not happy, or even surprised; it was something else, something that he couldn’t read, the pupils of her hot-whiskey eyes blown wide and the normally Renaissance-soft lines of her face sharpened and hardened into an expression that was more vicious.

“V?” he asked. Her eyes snapped to him, and for a second she looked the same way she had that night in the loft, her hands drenched in blood and the kitchen knife clutched in her fist with bodies at her feet: like she didn’t recognize him.

It took a heartbeat, but her expression smoothed out and she smiled, almost sheepish—like she’d been caught doing something naughty, instead of being caught being somewhere else. Someone else, more the wolf than the girl.

“The lights,” she explained, hands resting on his chest, “they startled me, is all.”

A frown creased his expression. He brought his hands up to hold her wrists, thumb pressed against her pulse point. It fluttered unsteadily. Unconvinced, Roman pressed, “The lights?”

“Just the lights,” Varya assured him. She tilted her head up and kissed him, one hand departing his jacket to go to the back of his neck—and when she kissed him, he could feel that strange little flicker of energy, like she’d been stamping something out before it could catch, but it still vibrated under her skin.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but she disentangled from him and swept around to the crowd of people waiting, beaming prettily and playing at bashfulness, as though she did not enjoy their eyes on her and did not soak their attention up like a flower did sunlight. Whatever had been plaguing her in that moment was now gone, and she was awash with attention and love, thanking people profusely and accepting each hug and cheek-kiss directed her way.

Roman brushed off the odd feeling that she wasn’t being as forthcoming with him as he would have preferred—no secrets anymore, isn’t that what they’d agreed on?—and instead waded into the crowd. Music kicked on overhead; chatter picked up to a warm humming around them; there was nothing else to think about except letting his girl enjoy her birthday celebration.

By the time Varya had made a suitable number of rounds (which tended to verge much higher than one, much to Roman’s chagrin—what tedious work, to share her with everyone else), she had barely sipped the glass of champagne someone had planted in her hand. She circled back to him eventually; like always, there was that pinprick tugging in the cavity of his chest, like they were bound by a single thread that kept them from parting too much and too quickly, and when she drew closer to him again it oozed relief, warm and vibrant, through his ribs.

“Sufficiently loved on?” he asked as she neared, hand reaching up to slide around her waist.

“By them? Certainly.” The brunette’s hand smoothed along his shoulder, the pad of her thumb gliding across the velvet of his jacket. “By you, though, not hardly. Not ever.”

“You are insatiable,” Roman agreed in a rumble. He splayed his fingers against the small of her back, tugging her in closer and brushing their noses together.

“Just for you,” Varya murmured, and the words brushed their lips together just a little—but everything with Varya, like this, felt like almost-kissing, enough to push him to some kind of edge where his stomach twisted and wrenched with want when she added, “And only for you.”

“You know I can’t resist you when you talk like that.”

She laughed, leaning in to set her glass to the side and curl her fingers into his shirt for a kiss; everything for a second felt normal, and good, and right again, the strange way she’d gone-away back in the doorway having disappeared, the dark cloud over her having cleared, her wretchedness from dinner dissipated.

And Roman kissed her, with the sound of the party chatter ringing in his ears, and kissed her with the faint taste of champagne flooding his senses when she parted her lips against his, and kissed her while his hand fisted the fabric of her dress and he managed out in a voice rough with want, “So you’re trying to rile me up.”

“I always,” Varya murmured against his mouth silkily, “want you riled, Romy.”

“Varya?”

A stranger’s voice filtered through the haze—the rose-colored one that usually accompanied Varya saying anything like she wanted him riled up—and Roman felt the irritation spike straight through it. He turned to look at the interruption at the same time that Varya did, only to find a young, handsome blonde standing just a foot away.

Varya said, sounding faint, “Maxim?”

“It has been a while,” the blonde said, and he sounded sheepish. “I called Armazd, asking after you—”

“Sorry,” Roman interjected briskly, fingers still curled—now possessively—into the fabric of Varya’s dress against the dip of her spine, “but who are you?”

His wife started to say, “Romy, this is—” at the same time that the man began, “I am sorry, my name—” and they both stopped at the same time, a strange little silence stretching between them.

“Maxim,” Varya said after a second, turning to look at Roman now. “This is Maxim. He is Artyem’s son.”

Roman stared at her, more to buy himself time than anything; she said the name like he was supposed to know who that was. Artyem, but it didn’t sound familiar. Almost any Russian name sounded like gibberish to him, and if Varya had said it to him, it had been in passing, an afterthought, nothing but a whisper of information passed between them before it was gone again.

Until it did. Until he remembered that the person Varya had thought was her father had actually been Artyem, that she’d poisoned him, let him bleed to death on the carpet while she had mentally checked out of the moment. That she had watched him die, but she had been somewhere else—someplace else, the way Ilarion had described it, very far away where she couldn’t even enjoy what she’d done fully.

And Maxim—golden, and polished, and clean-shaven—looked awfully pleasant for someone whose farther had choked to death on his own blood because of Varya.

“I see,” Roman said, even though he didn’t. His gaze turned to Maxim. “And you’ve—shown up without calling ahead?”

“I have been in Turkey,” Maxim explained, “finishing up some business, and I did not know how to get in touch—”

“Well, you spoke with Armazd, didn’t you?” Roman’s head tilted. “The man practically sleeps in our bed, I imagine he would have been happy to get you in contact with us.”

“Admittedly,” Maxim said, “I wanted it to be a surprise—”

No, Roman thought absently, venomously, that won’t do at all.

“—Varya’s birthday—”

“So you slunk in,” Roman elaborated tartly, “like a little street dog, hm?”

“Maxi,” Varya interjected, fingers absently tracing the stitching on Roman’s jacket, “why don’t you go get a drink and acquaint yourself with our friends? Armazd is just there—you see?”

Maxim’s eyes darted between her and Roman for a minute. He shifted on his feet, tilting and giving a little smile that might have liked abashed if Roman didn’t think he saw a little squirm of self-satisfaction in his gaze. Fucker.

“Of course,” the blonde replied after a moment. “C dnyom razhdyenyem, Varushka.” He took a step forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Varya’s thumbnail dug into the lapel of Roman’s jacket. “Thank you, Maxi.”

Once the blonde had departed, linking up with Armazd in the crowd to get introduced, Roman straightened up from the bar. It was impossible not to stare at this newcomer—he glowed with an easy charisma, flashed bright smiles that were all teeth. Roman hated him already.

“Maxi?” he asked her, eyes narrowed, and Varya sighed. He waited for her to elaborate. Perhaps she’d say they had dated once, perhaps they were literally nothing. That would be ideal, after all. Ships passing in the night.

She said, “We grew up together.”

Even worse. Roman twisted a loose, dark curl of hers around his finger. “And you killed his father.”

“Well—” She paused, mouth pressing into a thin line. “He does not know.”

“He doesn’t—” The notion that she was keeping secrets, and not from him, coiled high and happy in his throat. He tried not to sound too delighted when he said, “V, surely he knows.”

“Surely he does not, that I did it. Only that it happened. And I will keep it that way,” she added firmly, picking up her champagne glass from the bar top. “Maxim was incredibly loyal to my father because Artyem was, but more than that—he was mine and Ilya’s friend. I’m sure he is missing Ilya almost as much as I am.”

“As we all are,” Roman agreed sagely, planting a kiss on her temple in spite of the dry look she gave him. It was hard to tell, to get a read on this Maxim. What was it he’d dragged himself out of the trenches for? Just to fly halfway across the world to wish Varya a happy birthday? Above all things, Roman understood that his wife was a desirable thing, and knowing that he kept her out of the reach of others was part of her appeal—but that much? Could someone who was just a friend want that much?

He continued, “So what is it that Maxim offers to the business, hm?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Varya demurred, which didn’t sound at all like the truth. “Artyem was the one who sent him out on jobs. My father kept things tight around the top, you know. If anyone would know what it was Maxim was up to in Turkey who wasn’t my father or Artyem, it would have been Ilarion.”

“I find it hard to believe you have no idea what your father was using someone for.”

The sound of delighted commentary drew both of their eyes away; Irina had come down, both dark-haired infants in her arms, and was walking them toward Varya and Roman. Murmured remarks on what could only be their cuteness passed throughout the crowd of party-goers.

“I am putting them down for bed,” Irina announced as she approached, “and I know you like to say goodnight.”

“Oh, you are an angel,” Varya murmured, glass set aside once again. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to baby Ro’s cheek. Yuliana babbled, and she sighed dreamily, “Have you ever seen more perfect babies, Roman?”

Perfect babies, a perfect wife; soon, he would even have the perfect grip on Gotham’s neck, throttling it until it was nothing but dust and ash. Soon, but not soon enough; he’d be content when it was just done and settled, when there was nothing else standing between him and everything that he wanted. Varya, and the guns—what an odd thing, to know that a year ago he’d set out for this and it was just falling into his lap.

“Romy?”

“Never,” Roman replied, smiling and glancing back at his wife, reaching and cradling the back of Yuli’s head. “I’ve never seen more perfect babies, V.”

Across the room, Maxim watched them. There was something about it that Roman didn’t like—the way his eyes flickered, the way he looked between the children and Varya, the way their eyes met and he didn’t deflect away. Like he didn’t mind getting caught. Where had he come from? What little shithole had he crawled out of, over a year after Nikita’s death and Ilarion’s death—longer, still, since his father’s death? Hadn’t he wondered what had happened to his father?

What are you doing here, he thought venomously, that you think you can just come in here like nothing? Like I won’t root you out like the little rat you are?

Maxim smiled. It was a polite smile, unassuming kind of smile.

Roman picked up his drink from the counter, taking a heavy swallow. Suddenly, the evening seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of him, no finish line in sight.

Nothing else standing between me and everything I want.

And he was going to keep it that way.

[thetvmoviefan]

Nabrina Fanfics Part 11 (Winter Solstice Update)

Sabrina Spellman & Nicholas Scratch (Nick Scratch) FanFics MASTERLIST (UPDATEABLE PINNABLE)

Updated: December 21, 2020

It’s official ONLY 10 more days till Part 4 of CAOS and we get the show back for the last time. As we wait countdown here are some fantastic Nabrina Fics by some wickedly good writers. Escape into their amazing and magical creations through their amazing writing as we wait on a final part. Make sure to leave some Love/Praise or Kudos through the comments on their work. Or maybe given them a little message to how much you enjoy their stories, they have been the real heroes through this Nabrina/CAOS hiatus.

As always have a Wicked or Hell-ish these fics and ENJOY!!!!

Fics in order by Last Update: 9/20/2020

[Key: AU=Alternate Reality - AH=All Human/All Mortal - * = New Fics to List]

1. “Never Really Over”*

Author: Miss_Kath90

Summary: Sabrina Spellman wanted nothing more than to have a normal life and to achieve it, she accidentally had caused a time paradox that had allowed two of her to coexist in the same timeline.One, living in Greendale with her family and friends. The other, reigning over the infernal court in Hell.She could finally have (almost) everything she ever wanted but nothing in Sabrina's life was simple or normal…A new threat looms over Greendale.And she would need all the help she could get to stop it.Especially Nicholas Scratch's, even though every time they are in the same room the weight of their shattered romance filled the air and threatened with crush them. Rated M - Chapters 12/? - Last Update 12/20/2020

2. “Another Year”*

Author: shotgunkitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: Nick wanted to get his hands on his grandfather's journals for years and now his grandmother named her conditions: He gets the journals when he's in a steady relationship. Jumping at the opportunity to finally study his grandfather's research, he tells his grandmother that he has a girlfriend. The problem: He doesn't. Who better to ask than Sabrina to help him out and pretend to be his girlfriend while his grandmother is visiting for the Yule celebrations? Rated T - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 12/19/2020

3. “Under the mistletoe”*

Author: Miss_Kath90 @misskath90

Summary:  Nick and Sabrina meet at Spellman's Christmas party throughout the years. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 12/18/2020

4. “Sins of the Father”*

Author: willowaus @willowaus

Summary:  In a Greendale where Edward Spellman was given the chance to see his manifesto play out, Sabrina Spellman works to traverse the world her father created for her, walking that fine line between mortal and witch, trying to integrate them both. It’s not enough that she has to maintain that Spellman image while trying to juggle the Weird Sisters, her friends, and an annoyingly hot warlock, Nick Scratch. She also has to deal with the fact that someone or something doesn’t want her to make it to her seventeenth birthday. Rated M - Chapters 9/? - Last Update 12/18/2020

5. “Of Gingerbread and Snow Globes”*

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Nicholas Scratch begrudgingly helps his grandmother move back to her hometown of Greendale. He's got a high powered job and is used to the big city lifestyle. The small town life isn't for him, but he promised his grandmother he would stay through the holidays. Enter, Sabrina Spellman, international journalist and soon-to-be author who happens to love Greendale - and all of its holiday traditions. She's not trying to change Nick's mind about the place, but they do seem to keep crossing paths... Rated M - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 12/18/2020

6. “yuletide blessings”*

Author: bunivy @bunivys

Summary:  Journalist and hopeless romantic Sabrina heads home for the holidays with an assignment: write the perfect article on a small town Christmas to capture the spirit of the holidays. Things start off right when her aunt Hilda performs a bit of tea reading which suggests romance in Sabrina’s future, and she gets a call from one Harvey Kinkle, friend and childhood crush, asking her out on a date to the local Christmas Market. Hilda’s tea never lies and this could really be it. He could be it. To her surprise, she runs into a spellbinding bookseller at the market who seems to be on a quest of his own and before Sabrina knows it, she’s wrapped up in the mystery and holiday joy of it all. Along the way, she comes to learn that maybe there's still some new magic to be discovered in old Greendale, after all. Rated M - Chapters 2/? - Last Update 12/17/2020

7. “Illicit Affairs”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary:  She had never really meant for it to start. It wasn’t like her, the secret meetings, hushed whispers, and built up lies. But there was something about all of it that dragged her under the current and swept her up that she couldn’t deny or ignore. It was never her intention to start an affair with Nicholas Scratch. Though it was somewhat of an inevitability. From the minute they met, a line in the sand was drawn and they spent the better part of two years trying not to come closer to it. But the magnetic pull between them was undeniable, and soon the line in the sand was just as messed up as their sheets. She hadn’t planned it, and the second she let her guard down they’d both fallen into a hole they couldn't quite climb out of. She’d been sleeping with Nick for months and talked to him about more things than she never dared to with Harvey. Harvey.The highschool sweetheart she couldn’t let go. Or rather she couldn’t admit the relationship was failing, because she wasn’t a quitter. But she couldn’t seem to quit Nick either. Rated M - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 12/16/2020

8. “Off The Record - One Shots”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Missing scenes from my completed piece, 'Off The Record.' AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 9/? - Last Update 12/14/2020

9. “If You Let Me”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: After pouring all of her time and effort into obtaining a law degree in the city, Sabrina Spellman moves back to Greendale for one last summer before she departs for good. She's fully intent on enjoying her stay in her hometown, even deciding to pick up a part-time job at her Aunt Hilda's cafe to save up some money. The only problem is that the boy in the bookstore across the way is one she's had some not-so-good history with and it's becoming increasingly harder to ignore him. Before long, she finds herself exploring the complexities of old high-school grudges and what-ifs, all while trying to sort out her present-day relationship with the boy she has long since deemed as non-existent.Meanwhile, Nicholas Scratch wonders if it would just be easier to remain non-existent. AU/AH - Rated M - Chapters 30/? - Last Update 12/10/2020

10. “Let’s Fall in Love for the Night”

Author: shotgunkitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: Hilda Spellman once said that their meeting was fate. And while neither Sabrina Spellman nor Nicholas Scratch were sure if they believed in that kind of thing, they were sure of this: They never wanted to find out what their lives would be like without each other. AU/AH- Rated T - Chapters 17/? - Last Update 12/08/2020

11. “Wicked Winds”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Nicholas Scratch winds up at the Academy of Unseen Arts after being kicked out of several others for being too smart - and too powerful - for his own good. He’s got a chip on his shoulder and he’s not in Greendale to make friends. But then he meets Sabrina Spellman, a witch that’s not only beautiful, but just as up for breaking the rules as him.Except she wants nothing to do with him.His old friend Prudence places a bet that he can’t get her to give into him - but things get complicated as he not only starts to fall for Sabrina, but a deadly darkness settles over Greendale. Rated M - Chapters 23/23 - COMPLETED 12/04/2020

12. “Wintertime Love”*

Author: sweetjs

Summary:  Sabrina and Nick celebrate both Winter Solstice and Christmas through the years. Rated G - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 12/04/2020

13. “p is for passion, n is for not this again”*

Author: Unseemingowl @unseemingowl

Summary: In which Nick is very passionate about the Baxter High encyclopaedia section and Sabrina Spellman can never just get one day of peace and quiet and making out. Rated M - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 12/03/2020

14. “Soft Place To Land”*

Author: shotgun kitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: A collection of short Nabrina one shots based on fluff prompts on tumblr. Rated T - Chapters 14/? - One Shots 11/26/2020

15. “my greatest grief, my deepest desire”*

Author: bunny @bunivys

Summary: She could put her hand out and touch Nick, but she couldn’t hold him, couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t slot her nose into the corner of his neck like she had once loved to do. Couldn’t run her fingers through his curls, hear him sigh against her lips. Could be the first person Nick loved, but not the last. Rated M - Chapters 14/4 - One Shots 11/21/2020

16. “I almost do”*

Author: Miss_Kath90 @misskath90

Summary: Nick and Sabrina dance at Hilda's wedding. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 11/17/2020

17. “Before the Devil Breaks Me”

Author: willowaus @willowaus

Summary: All Sabrina wants to do is enjoy the last few years with her mortal friends. Attend college, party a little too hard, and make endless memories with them. But when you're a Spellman nothing ever goes as planned, especially not when she meets her handsomely mischievous classmate, Nick Scratch, who introduces her to a side of witchcraft that she's never thought possible.When people start ending up murdered in ritual sacrifices on campus Sabrina knows she can't keep both of her worlds apart any longer. Especially when it seems each murder is a message for her. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 31/31 - COMPLETED 11/17/2020

18. “whispers in the white wind”*

Author: bunny @bunivys

Summary: Nick had no one to knit him scarves and Sabrina didn’t mind sharing.(a collection of tumblr winter fluff prompts.) Rated T - Chapters 7/7 - One Shots 11/13/2020

19. “For Fluffs Sake, Angst-hole”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: This is a collection of short writings/scenes from an ask I did on Tumblr for Nabrina!It used to be all fluff, but now there's some agnsty ones in there too! Not Rated - Chapters 23/23 - Last Update12/07/2020

20. “Haunted Herat”*

Author: shotgunkitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: Sabrina ran through the woods, tree branches crashing to the ground in front of her, grasping at her. Roots digging themselves out of the wet soil, wrapping around her calves, dragging her to the ground. She set them on fire, the angry, high-pitched screams of the trees filling the air as Sabrina got up, looking over her shoulder. She could see torches in the dark, coming closer. “Find that witch!” a male voice bellowed, others chiming in, faint calls of “Burn the witch!” following. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 10/31/2020

21. “Cruel Summer”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: A mix between AU and Cannon, where the young members of the Church of Night also attend Baxter High. The young witches and warlocks then go to the Unseen Arts Summer Camp to bolster their gifts. However Sabrina, being half mortal, only began attending after her Dark Baptism. To the mortals of Greendale, Unseen Arts Camp was for the wealthy. An elite sector of the Baxter High youth that attended a camp deep in the Greendale Wood far upstream of Sweetwater River. Many had tried to find and break in, but none have succeeded. To the mortals, the divide between the camp attendees and the not was of money and status. When in fact, the difference lay with light vs. night.Set between two timelines- the present and the summer, Sabrina attends camp for the first time and grows closer to Nick only for them to be torn apart as school starts. Rated Mature - Chapters 27/27 - COMPLETED 10/27/2020

22. “in a dream, a thousand years ago”*

Author: bunny @bunivys

Summary: It’s a painful thing to be a songbird with no one to serenade, and maybe he knows that, too.(part of the anti-soulmates au; Nick and Sabrina meet in a bar) Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 10/22/2020

23. “Born To Love You”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows aka @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: So Sabrina left Harvey at the altar for Nick. What now? Tune in for snapshots into Nick and Sabrina's life now that they've admitted their true feelings. What happened after Sabrina left Harvey and ran to Nick? Did they live happily ever after?This will be a collection of snapshots of this version of Nick and Sabrina. I don't know how often it will be updated, but we will get a look into their life together.I enjoy writing my fics based on songs, so if a particular song screams this Nick and Sabrina to you please message me on tumblr or comment below and maybe I'll write a scene based on it! ****Follow up to One-Shot Marry Me. Go READ it first!**** AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 9/24/20

24. “Unwritten”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Tired of her aunt’s matchmaking attempts, Sabrina decides to tell a little white lie… and now she needs a boyfriend to accompany her to her hometown for the holidays.And who better to play that part than her good friend Nicholas Scratch? There is only one little problem… He had a crush on her since the day they met. When two friends pretend to be in a relationship, what could possibly go wrong? Rated T - Chapters 10/10 - COMPLETED 9/22/2020

25. "Free Pour”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: He's a bartender with a perfect free pour and a Ph.D. candidate. She thinks she wants to be a lawyer and wishes she had taken more chances in life. Both of them are trying to move on. But when their paths collide, Nick's hand is no longer steady with the bottle and she's far more willing to take a risk. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 23/23 - COMPLETED 9/01/2020

26. "Burning House”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Sabrina hasn't seen him in months but she still sees him everywhere. Nick sees her every night in his dreams. They both know what they want, but won't let the other have it. Not yet. Not when Nick will hardly talk to her and Sabrina used well...THAT candle... ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 8/28/2020

27. “The Four Pictures”

Author: Copper_16

Summary: It’s been 10 years. Nick and Sabrina are teachers at the Academy along with some familiar faces. It’s been a decade there can’t be that much chaos anymore, right? Wrong. Rated T - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 8/04/2020

28. “Marry Me”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: “No, No, No.” Nick said as he shook his head at Prudence. “Sabrina is my best friend. That’s it.”“Sure.” Prudence shrugged her shoulders.When she explained to her brother that they were likely more she had said it as a statement, not an invitation to have a conversation about it. She was entirely annoyed by the Spellman girl, and had found it odd and irritating that she and her brother had been attached at the hip from a young age.“Besides she’s marrying Kinkle, Prudence.” Nick explained more to himself than to Prudence. His eyes were wild and looking around the room, searching for something to land on. “Not me.”“Do you want her to?” Prudence asked as she leaned forward. Nick paused, unsure how to answer that question. Nick had been in love with Sabrina Spellman for most of his life. But she was happy with Harvey Kinkle. Prudence rolled her eyes and stood up sighing, and placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder. She was rarely affectionate and this was as comforting as she got. “You may want to figure that out.” AU/AH - Rated Mature - ONE-SHOT - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 7/11/2020

29. “The Chaos In the Stars”

Author: willowaus @willowaus

Summary: Nick sacrificed himself to save her, but Sabrina's not about to let him fester away in Hell. But what happens when saving the one she loves brings about a series of apocalyptic events that Sabrina and the rest of the Spellman clan need to thwart?Alternate part 3. (Part 3 Fic) - Rated Mature - Chapters 24/24 - COMPLETED 6/30/2020

30. “A Little Wicked”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Sometimes, in the darkness of her room, unable to sleep, she thought about how easy it would be to fall in love with him. And she was sure a part of her was a bit in love with him already, but she kept holding to the past and that was hurting them both. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/16/2020

31. “Crash Into Me”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Set after Part 3 and some time after Nick and Sabrina's breakup. Just a little one-shot of a mission they get sent on by Zelda. Tough conversations and some tears...and one bed ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/15/2020

32. “Heaven can’t help me now”

Author: bunivy @bunivys

Summary: Soulmates are a universal law, the way of life. Sabrina's soulmate is Harvey, but she'll pick Nick every time, in every way. ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/13/2020

33. “I knew you were trouble”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Sabrina didn’t know that being away from home for the first time could be so hard.Away from her aunts, friends and her-lifelong-boyfriend, Sabrina have to deal with the nostalgia but also with the new challenges College's life mean: get used to share a room with a not-so-nice roommate, put up with long hours of study and very few of sleep, learn to live from pre-cooked meals instead of her aunt Hilda’s homemade ones, find balance between her studies and her new social life… And resist the temptation a certain Nicholas Scratch mean for her. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 28/28 - COMPLETED 6/06/2020

34. “A Thing or Two to Learn”

Author: gracefulchaos

Summary: What if Sabrina and Nick weren't in the same coven, and they met each other later in life? AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 6/06/2020

35. “When the Bones are Good”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Sabrina Spellman is enjoying her life as a normal teenager. Sabrina Morningstar is reigning Hell with an iron fist. Ambrose Spellman is searching for a solution to bring them back together and close the time loop, Sabrina's wishes be damned. And Nicholas Scratch? He's faced down his own demons and he's desperate for redemption.Except the clock is ticking.On time and Terrors. (Part 4 Fic) - Rated General - Chapters 28/28 - COMPLETED 6/05/2020

36. “Bury a Lie”

Author: raeinthedark

Summary: Sabrina is comfortable with death. It's her job. But everything is changed on a rainy October morning. The life and work she was accustomed to are forever different in the wake of tragedy. There really isn't coming back from this, unless she can figure out who's behind it. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 5/04/2020

37. “I run to you”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Nick and Sabrina love two things. Research and each other. But their research often takes them to far away places, and far away from the person they love most. AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - One-Shot COMPLETED - 5/21/2020

38. “My Body Is A Canvas For Your Love”

Author: Unseemingowl aka @unseemingowl

Summary: Sabrina had no love for the whip or the belt or the cane that Nick had used to enjoy so much, but restraints... That was another matter entirely. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 4/29/2020

39. ”Ground Beneath Her Feet”

Author: mindlesshappy aka @feministstree

Summary: Sabrina is born out of a miracle - one that she wishes would repeat for her, but when she is destined for someone else, how much can she resist before her heart decides to give in. Alternatively, Nick is Sabrina's soulmate, but she really just wants Harvey to be it. Also, in the backseat are all the other possible ships, getting their own soulmate glories. Rated T - Chapters 18/? - Last Update 4/17/2020

40. “in your eyes (there's something burning inside you)”

Author: jessequicksters

Summary: Nicholas falls in love with Sabrina as fast as a mortal sells their soul to the devil. The only problem is, in the Church of Night, everything has a price. Even love.Especially love.(He bleeds every time he dreams of Sabrina and when they kiss, it happens too, but love isn't supposed to hurt, right? Except he's never known about love; the only thing he knows is that this half-mortal is going to be the death of him.) Rated Mature - Chapters 5/5 - Last Update 3/22/2020

41. “The Institute for Divine Craft”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: After a humiliating spat with Father Blackwood pushes Sabrina away from her witching life and the Academy, Madam Satan crafts an alternative solution to move Sabrina Spellman further down the path of night. Ultimately leading her to the Institute for the Divine Craft. A handsome Headmaster with mysterious ties to her father, convinces Sabrina to abandon her mortal life, and cultivate her abilities as a child of the Church of Lucifer. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 19/? - Last Update 3/22/2020

42. “My Lover of Blood and Milk”

Author: Unseemingowl aka @unseemingowl

Summary: It didn’t feel as though it had only been a few hours since she had made her way to the Greendale woods for Lupercalia. As she sat there, shivering in her muddied and bloodied silk slip, it felt as if a completely different person had made her way back out of the forest...... Or how Sabrina struggles with lust and trust after her disastrous Lupercalian night with Nick. Rated Mature - Chapters 4/4 - Last Update 3/15/2020

43. “I Need to Know”

Author: raeinthedark

Summary: Love isn't that easy to erase... and that song is on again. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 2/29/2020

44. “Be True To Your School”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: Nicholas Scratch is the Golden Boy™ of Baxter High; star athlete, top of his class academically, and devastatingly handsome. Sabrina Spellman sees Sophomore year as an opportunity to expand her horizons; joining the cheerleading squad, running for student council, and making new friends along the way while working to maintain her relationships with her old friends. What Sabrina Spellman doesn't know: sophomore year is about to turn her world upside-down. Rated T - Chapters 6/? - Last Update 2/23/2020

45. “Ocean”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: AU, M-Rated. Nicholas Scratch has everything working in his favor. He's got a decent job as a history teacher, his roommate Melvin is always up for video games and getting high, and Sabrina Spellman lets him mess up her sheets frequently. Sabrina knows Nick isn't good for her, but she can't stay away, no matter how hard it is to pretend she's completely okay with their casual arrangement. But when life takes an unexpected curve, Nick is forced to face a new normal he doesn't know how to navigate. And Sabrina may or may not be there to help him through it. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 27/27 - COMPLETED 2/10/2020

46. “I’ll be there”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: She couldn’t stop looking at him, since she had recovered him from the claws of the Dark Lord, she felt unable to be apart from him and had to admit that part of her was afraid he would disappear if she moved from his side. And Sabrina wouldn't let anyone or anything separate him from her again. Never. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 1/30/2020

47. “Walk away”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Pain. Could he someday escape the pain? He sometimes thought it impossible. It was strange, his relationship with the pain, it was an enemy and a friend. The pain numbed him. The pain didn’t let him sleep. The pain hurt him and soothed him. It was unhealthy, the way the pain helped him relieve the pain. But it was the only thing he had left. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 1/27/2020

48. “To Hell and Back”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: Sabrina was successful in her efforts to retrieve Nick from Hell, but the damage - physical and emotional - is deep. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to go your separate ways and trust things will work themselves out in the end. (Written before Part 3 - an alternate take on how Nick recovers from his time in Hell - with and without Sabrina). Rated Mature - Chapters 3/3 - Last Update 1/26/2020

49. “The Morning(star) After”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: A Painful NickxSabrina Reunion Rated T - Chapters 1/3 - Last Update 1/24/2020

50. “My only love sprung from my only hate”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: High School AU where Nick is based on the version of him that Sabrina creates in her dream during the Batibat episode. Harvey and Sabrina have broken up and don't want to work together on the Romeo and Juliet assignment in Drama class, so she ends up being partners with Nick AU - Not Rated - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 1/19/2020

51. “A very witchy Christmas”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Just a bit of silly Christmas fluff that I couldn’t help but write, placed in the series universe after a huge jump in time. Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 12/25/2019

52. “Mortal Little Christmas”

Author: HeartsInJeopardy

Summary: ‘Twas the night before Christmas – and the first for Nick Scratch - but Sabrina’s holiday movie was not a good match. Rated T - Chapters 2/2 - Last Update 12/21/2019

53. “Lessons in the Unseen”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: Academy Teachers AU. Sabrina Spellman lives as simple a life as a half-mortal half-witch can. Despite her dislike for the headmaster, she enjoys spending her time teaching Ritual Magic at the Academy of Unseen Arts, hoping to positively shape the minds of young witches and warlocks. However, with the sudden dreadful announcement of her aunt Zelda's engagement and the appearance of one mysterious - and strikingly handsome - Nicholas Scratch, Sabrina finds that her life is not so simple anymore. Or all that safe. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 32/32 - COMPLETED 12/17/2019

54. “Just a Little Obsessed”

Author: eyerys

Summary: Nicholas has developed a tinie-tiny crush on Sabrina. Nothing like major or whatever. It's not like he thinks about her all the time or daydreams about what it would be like to be with her or how cool she is. No, not at all.Sabrina doesn't have a crush on Nick. No, not at all. Uh-uh. She has Harvey. Sweet and loving Harvey Kinkle. But for some reason, she can't help but find her mind wandering. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 12/13/2019

55. “As The Moon Rises”

Author: venzaren

Summary: Sabrina Spellman is tired.Tired of living a double life. Tired of facing discrimination at the hands of her pack. Tired of dealing with her status as an Omega. And most of all, she's tired of people hounding her about finding her mate.Then Nick Scratch returns to Greendale. AU - Rated General - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 12/07/2019

56. “Thirteen Memories”

Author: tempestbreak

Summary: (Set at the end of Season 2) Sabrina and her friends go to Hell and rescue Nick -- but what happens when that's the easy part?It turns out, having the Dark Lord inside your mind for months can do some damage, and Nick comes back different. His memories of the events leading up to his sacrifice, including his relationship with Sabrina, are gone. How can Sabrina help him regain his memories of their time together when she's not even sure she trusts her own? Rated Mature - Chapters 6/? - Last Update 11/02/2019

57. “But The Greatest Is Love”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: The acheron captured Lucifer Morningstar, but their problems are far from over. The coven is decimated, the Church of Night is no more, Father Blackwood is on the run, and Nick and Sabrina's relationship is in ruins. How do they pick up the pieces and move on? There are more questions than answers and the consequences could be of biblical proportions. Rated Mature - Chapters 25/25 - COMPLETED 10/28/2019

58. “Back to You”

Author: nadiaselite

Summary: Sabrina brings Nick back from hell. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 10/11/2019

59. “The Open Road”

Author: paradiamond

Summary: Nick wants her back, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes. In fact, he insists on it. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/22/2019

60. “The words “I love you” aren’t enough”

Author: Miss_Kath90

Summary: “Look at me, Nick” he was reluctant but when he finally looked up she took his face in her hands making him unable to look away “What you did that day… Nick, you sacrificed yourself for my sake, even when I mistreated you and told you all those horrible things. You did it for me, because you love me… Don’t you see? You’re incapable of being evil.”Or... Sabrina gets her boyfriend back but things don’t go as smoothly as she thinks they will. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/22/2019

61. “Mission: Let’s get my boyfriend back”

Author: My_Evak_Heart

Summary: Sabrina and the Fright Club ventures on their first mission: getting Nick back from Hell Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/7/2019

62. “Jealousy is a killer”

Author: Melissa1226

Summary: Will Sabrina and Nick Start something new? and who is watching them from the shadow full of jealousy? Rated Mature - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/28/2019

63. “The Jock”

Author: mikaila_ealum

Summary: An Alternate Universe where Nicholas Scratch is Baxter High’s quarterback along with one of the most popular boys at school. With few knowing the truth, Scratch is living a double life as a warlock at the Academy of Unseen Arts. Sabrina takes a hiatus from the Academy to get more in touch with her mortal side. When Sabrina gets back she becomes partners with Nicholas for a project in theatre class. AU - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/07/2019

64. “act 5, scene 2 (thou and i are too wise to woo peaceably)”

Author: ghostemo aka @wickedscratch

Summary: When Sabrina Spellman rose to a challenge issued by Prudence Night, she never imagined she’d actually make the varsity cheer squad - or that doing so would upend life as she knew it. Now she has to navigate her new role within the social hierarchy of hell -er Baxter High as well as trying to get her boyfriend to actually communicate. It certainly doesn’t help that she’s been paired up with the annoyingly handsome Nicholas Scratch, captain of Greendale’s beloved football team, for a project in her theater class. It’s exactly as, if not more so, cliche as it sounds. AU/AH - Rated T - Chapters 3/? - 7/25/2019

65. “Off the Record”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: AU. Detective Nicholas Scratch left New York for Greendale in desperate need of a change of scenery. The small town takes some getting used to, but local reporter Sabrina Spellman quickly grabs his attention. It's the fresh start he needed until Greendale's residents start turning up dead. With a murderer on the loose, no one is innocent - and anyone might be next. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 29/29 - COMPLETED 7/22/2019

66. “Bring You Close To Me”

Author: BridgetMcKennitt

Summary: Sabrina and her friends managed to bring Nicholas back from Hell. There was a lot the two of them needed to discuss, but tonight, they had this. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 7/13/2019

67. “A Brief Moment”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: Ever since he's returned from Hell, Nicholas Scratch has been having nightmares. With help from Aunt Hilda, Sabrina unknowingly shows him a light and for a moment, Nicholas knows everything will be okay. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 6/24/2019

68. “To Hell and Back”

Author: swtnerdgirl

Summary: A year has passed since Sabrina and her friends rescued Nick from Hell. No one came back the same. They all had their scars. Some emotionally. Some physically. In the days leading to Hilda's wedding, they all prepare for their lives to change and heal their wounds. Rated Mature - Chapters 16/? - Last Update 6/06/2019

69. “Dead Witch Walking”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: Faced with the possibility of being harrowed to death by her classmates, Sabrina finds an escape. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/26/2019

70. “Moonlight Beneath Rough Lips”

Author: ivylikeveins

Summary: After the encounter with the thirteen witches of Greendale, Sabrina enters the dining hall with moonlight locks bathed in soft blue hues, and Nick does not know what to do. He ends up with a soft and small Sabrina pressed into his chest, sleeping, and wrapped around his very much over-sized jacket with Nick's lips pressed into the soft, pearly strands he wants his soul to get entangled within. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/19/2019

71. “The Hunt”

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Nick howled into the night, up at the stars to signify that he was ready on the eve of Lupercalia, the darkness of midnight around them. The first sound of the horn sent them into the forest. The hunt had begun. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/11/2019

72. “Secrets, Secrets are no Fun”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: Sabrina is the new kid for the first time in her life. Choosing to go to the Academy full-time seems to be a hard transition than she was expecting. With the Weird Sisters harassment at an all-time high, dealing with leaving her mortal friend's and condescending teachers, Sabrina is suffering. She's not even allowed to have Salem for comfort. It's not all bad though. She is finally free to do magic whenever she wants, and there's a charming warlock who is being particularly nice to her. Plus, someone is leaving kind gifts on her bed at the end of the night. She just wishes she knew who it was. Not Rated - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 5/06/2019

73. “Unsettled Nighttime Creatures”

Author: mindlesshappy

Summary: We all know Sabrina is going to save Nick. This is how Nick reacts to being saved - which, spoilers alert - is like a very stupid warlock. Rated T - Chapters 5/5 - Completed 4/25/2019

74. “Selfless”

Author: sarahwut

Summary: Sabrina Spellman dragged Nicholas Scratch back from Hell. But Hell might be better than a world in which they aren't together. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Completed 4/23/2019

75. “Homecoming”

Author: cherrystems

Summary: After several months Sabrina is able to get Nick back from Hell with the help of her family and friends. However, Nick has to adjust to Earth again while dealing with PTSD and anxiety. This tells the story of the growth of Sabrina and Nick's relationship over the recovery time. Not Rated - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 4/20/2019

76. “Under Your Spell”

Author: londonmarie

Summary: Sabrina doesn't hesitate to have her Dark Baptism and things go differently. Rated T - Chapters 10/? - Last Update 4/18/2019

77. “Photographs”

Author: Greyowl9831

Summary: It's been at least 150 years since Sabrina signed her name in the Book of the Beast. One day she finds an old photo album. Will the memories it contains be a great walk down memory lane or will it be more than she can bare? Not Rated - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 4/14/2019

78. “An itch That Needed Scratching”

Author: umbrellacorp

Summary: What if Nick slayed his familiar and Sabrina and Nick got to experience the last night of the Lupercalia festival alone. Tonight, Sabrina would be transformed. Nick was going to show her power that she never knew she had, an innate carnal power. They were about to become the most powerful union of the Church of Night. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/13/2019

79. “and I keep waiting (but I won’t say I’m waiting)”

Author: lost_n_stereo @lost-n-stereo

Summary: You would think that it would hurt less as the days go by, since it’s been nearly two years since Nick sacrificed himself for the greater good and Lilith took him to hell. Except, he didn’t sacrifice himself for the greater good, he sacrificed himself for her. And that makes it a hell of a lot tougher to let go. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/10/2019

80. “Fire”

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Their power—together—was overwhelming. It was something that she had not felt either, the consuming feeling of expanding power. It was entirely addicting. Rated Mature - Chapters 2/2 - Completed 3/24/2019

81. “something I can believe”

Author: Anry

Summary: Missing scene after Sabrina's baptism. I wouldn't say that it's really a relationship here, just conversation. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 1/25/2019

AND THERE YOU GO!!!! Have fun everyone, if I missed any Fics or you have any recommendations for the list message me or send in a ask and I’ll add it to the list. Can’t wait for Part 4 and Enjoy <3333

[mollyphoria]

Moodboard #3

I was not able to make another moodboard since February because there's not much difference from what I was feeling from back then to now. It was pretty much all the same. Still wanting to get away and have freedom, yk same old shit but it wouldn't be a surprise that some things did change throughout this 5 mos like :

My lovely Calico cat Jimina gave birth to 5 kittens originally. She was pregnant at the start of this year and blessed the world with 5 cute mini jiminas on March 9 (same birthdate of BTS Suga)

3 of the kittens inherited her orange and white fur while the other one inherited the dark, striped fur completely devoid of any white fur. Only one kitten out of 5 got her triple color coated fur.

Sadly only 3 survived. Jimina hid the kittens briefly first and then abruptly one day she brought them up again already grown up, able to walk and with their eyes open but she only had 3 kittens with her. I never got to find out what ever happened with the other 2 babies with one of the missing of the kittens was the one that fully inherited the Calico cat status of Jimina which devastated me the most and I'm still heartbroken to this day that some of her babies didn't get to live like their siblings. I don't want to think that they died, I want to actually believe that they somehow survived without their mother miraculously but it's only the plausible reason why they never showed up at all 😞

The 3 surviving kittens tho is a lot of fun! They were rumbustious and full of energy. They were always playing and running around in my mom's garden. Climbing up a tree or an orchid branch, playing hide and seek through the plethora of plants. It was a treat to see them just having fun and I took lots of videos. I decided to name them after the BTS maknaes nicknames which is Kookie, Mochi and TaeTae. All 3 kittens have a very distinct personality from each other like you could immediately tell that Kookie is more introverted than the other two, his more reserved and prefers to be alone most of the time, TaeTae is more adventurous and playful but he doesn't trust that easily while Mochi on the other hand is the most extroverted and trusting out of all (FYI: I named them first without knowing their personalities believe it or not). Overall they brought so much life and extra joy in me. Now that they are 4 mos old, they don't play that much anymore, I guess it's really part of growing up regardless of what species. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now onto my summer. I was dreading it's arrival. It's not fun when you don't have an AC at your house in the hottest season. But anyways this summer I've been having this strong desire to experience Italian summers. I just wanted to be in Italy soooooo bad. I just want to ride my bicycle anywhere in rural Italy in a summer floral dress and eating a delicious gelato after while listening to Love my way by the Psychedelic furs. Yes this strong desire got even stronger after watching the movie Call me by your name. It envoked so much nostalgia within me which is weird because I've never set foot in Italy before but the feeling of longing that I experience just thinking about spending your summer in Italy is very strong.

Additionally, speaking of bicycles I successfully finished my remodeling or rather repainting of an old bicycle we have here which is perfect for summer aesthetics. I mentioned before on my previous moodboard back in February that I was in the process of painting this bike and I included a picture of a bike that I would like my own bike to look like after I'm finish with it. And I'm very happy and satisfied with the end result overall! And I would love love to ride it around Italy!...... perhaps.

These are 3 of the most impactful things that had rocked my world within the past few months and they are in a form of a documentary, an animated podcast and an anime film!

1. Grey Gardens

I first discovered Grey Gardens when I was actively looking for any good documentary to watch so I went to Reddit recommendations and one user suggested grey gardens. Its description peaked my interest enough to go check it out and luckily the full documentary is uploaded in YouTube for free. And I must say I'm glad that I took the chance to watch this wonderful hidden gem!

Little Edie quickly got my full attention on her. She's one of the most wonderful and fascinating people to exist in our world and her mother big Edie was just as interesting of a character as well. The way they live their life, spending most of their time in a rundown mansion near a beach was truly a sight to behold in a weird, peculiar manner.

What gives me the most profound impact about this documentary is the topic of wasted youth with wasted potential and the ironic part when your very own lifeline equally imprisons you as well. And we see this most evidently with little Edie. There was a part in this doc that stuck with me the most and it's when the mother-daugther duo was sunbathing in the balcony and little Edie mentioned about wanting freedom from her mother and the grey gardens then big Edie answered:

"you can't have freedom when you're being supported"

And this has struck a chord on me so strong because I relate to it so much especially with my current situation. I also crave freedom from where I am right now but I couldn't because I'm not capable of freeing myself.

What's more tragic was little Edies rebuttal to her mother's hotknife realistic take which was you can't have freedom both ways. That you couldn't have freedom when you're not being supported as well. And it's very true. If you decide to go out in the world by yourself you will definitely be freed from the shackles of your former home & life but you will subject yourself to another imprisonment.

Basically We're never truly free in this life.

2. The Midnight Gospel

I think I've heard of TMG when it was about to launch on its release year and I remember i was anticipating for it to come out because i just took one look at the official poster & I knew I would like the animation then I learned Pendleton ward is a part of it & I'm a huge fan of his creations so it's a double treat but I didn't had the opportunity to watch it back then bcoz of my busy shitty life & I actually don't have Netflix. But I remember i downloaded one of its ost first things first.

Now fast forward to this year. I now have the time to watch every content out there that I missed from all the years of slaving my life away for absolutely nothing. one of those is TMG & it was a perfect timing. Ever since i took an hiatus from the rat race I decided to strengthen my spirituality & this time I want to try delving deep to Buddhism and certain philosophies which I don't have the time and energy to learn before and TMG was a great and perfect medium for me to learn further about this subjects as they tackle topics like mindfulness and meditation and much more other significant things, not to mention the superb,epic, psychedelical, full of awesomeness animation on top of equally superb awesome soundtracks is*chefs kiss ( I still have an LSS to the prisoner's song.. 🎵drinking blood from a stump of a prison guard that I just chopped up....🎶)

I felt like the universe intended for me to watch this later than sooner because if I had the opportunity to watch it back then, I think I wouldn't/couldn't appreciate this show as much as I do now. So thanks universe!

TMG is honestly one of the best show to ever grace the planet imho. An easily perfect 10/10 for me.

3. To the Forest of Firefly Lights

Now I've watched a lot of animes last and this year and I can tell in full confidence that this is the best of them all. I'm sure it's subjective but this one checked all the box for the most compelling story & amazing artwork for me.

Maybe I long for something similar with the characters, It was just so fascinating and huntingly beautiful to have someone or something (whatever your preference is) from a different realm to be by your side. Maybe I would also like to look forward for summer season to come for once, to get excited and get rejuvenated on a hot summer that otherwise would make my life hell. Or maybe and most definitely I just needed someone like Gin as a source of my utmost happiness and comfort.

Overall this anime had made me feel so much warmth in my heart with its unadulterated poignancy and I just couldn't get enough of it. What a masterpiece ✨

Ps: I recommend listening to Warning Sign by Coldplay after watching to the Forest of Firefly Lights 🌹Check it out ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

[laisaxrem]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi Characters: Haruno Sakura, Hatake Kakashi Additional Tags: 50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts, Prompt 46 - A lingering kiss before after a long trip apart, I’m an idiot, I had read wrong, so I corrected the prompt, I said you that I’m an idiot Summary:  Kakashi. If you reply to this letter by telling me that you will be late again, know that it doesn't matter, I understand perfectly. Hokage's duties come first, I've always told you. Also because now I have someone else to keep my bed warm at night, so I don't need you anymore. Sakura

.

.

.

It had been a long and tiring month. Kakashi had been summoned by the Daimyō and what must have been a short visit of less than a week had turned into thirty-four days away not only from his beloved Village but above all from his beloved wife. Obviously when he had realized he wasn’t coming home on schedule, he had Sakura send a messenger hawk assuring her that he would be back by the end of the week. He had had to send two more messages of this kind and finally, on the twenty-fifth day, had summoned Pakkun asking him to come and see Sakura, make sure she was okay, and maybe stay with her until he returned.

Now that he finally saw the gates of the Village, Kakashi accelerated his pace. In the pocket of his uniform he heard the creaking of the paper of the last note that his wife had sent him and that he had read and reread in the last few days.

Kakashi.

If you reply to this letter by telling me that you will be late again, know that it doesn't matter, I understand perfectly. Hokage's duties come first, I've always told you.

Also because now I have someone else to keep my bed warm at night, so I don't need you anymore.

Sakura

As soon as he had read it for a moment he was baffled. Then he had burst out laughing and took pen and paper to answer… which he had never done because the Daimyō had called him urgently. From there he had returned to his apartments only to throw himself into bed for a few hours and take a quick shower the next morning. Three days later, finally, the Daimyō had given him permission to return to the Village. Kakashi hadn’t had it repeated twice and left the next day when the sun hadn’t risen yet. Throughout the journey he had forced his escort to keep pace; his goal was to get home by evening: he wanted to arrive before Sakura went to bed, he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close and kiss her until he fell asleep.

Too bad he hadn’t come to terms with his two babysitters. Genma had started muttering about a hypothetical sprained ankle in the middle of the morning but Kakashi had ignored him. He had not been able to ignore, however, Tenzō’s insistent chakra which a couple of hours later had started to glow in waves like fire; it was a clear warning sign from his ANBU team’s taichō and for a while Kakashi was able to ignore it. It was nearly noon when he had had to give in to the insistent chakra pulses and signalled Genma and Sai to stop for lunch; he had given them a little over forty minutes, mostly because Kakashi realized that his head had started to hurt and he needed to rest (oh, he would have come up with a way to make Tenzō pay for that, that was for sure).

They had taken two more breaks, much to Kakashi’s despondency (although, as the sun went down on the horizon, it was increasingly clear to him that the chances of being able to return to the Village before evening were slim or nil) and it was dark when they finally entered the gates of Konoha.

Kakashi did not want to do anything but leave his escort there and run home but he knew he had to go to the office first: the next morning he would have to meet the full Council and update them so he needed to have all the documents in order. Shikamaru was waiting for him there and a part of Kakashi was amazed (it was tragically far beyond his usual schedule); but on the one hand he was grateful because thanks to his help he got the last chores done in half the time.

Almost two hours later Kakashi closed the file he had in front of him with a sigh.

«I’m sorry, Shikamaru, but I really have to go for today», he announced, casting a worried glance at the wall clock. Shit.

His young friend nodded and began to collect the papers neatly.

«Sakura will be mad, huh?»

«Mmm… Maybe», he conceded. Then he smiled and added: «She wrote to me that she found someone else to warm her bed».

After a second of amazement (Kakashi was happy to have said it just to see his usual bored expression give way to a pair of wide open eyes) Shikamaru laughed and rubbed the back of his neck absently.

«Good luck, then».

Too exhausted to run but with his chakra at a frighteningly low level, Kakashi weighed his alternatives and, with a nod to Shikamaru, grabbed his backpack and used the Shunshin to leave the office and reappear outside his home (he knew that Tenzō hated it when he did and that awareness was enough to compensate for the severe dizziness that hit him upon landing).

When he opened the front door he was greeted by darkness and silence.

«Tadaima», he announced in a low voice as he gently placed his backpack on the cabinet in the genkan and tidied up his sandals.

For the first time in a month, Kakashi felt he could breathe perfectly and the fatigue and frustration he had been carrying around all that time faded away from his body.

Part of him wanted nothing more than to run to their bedroom and wake Sakura, lose himself in her embrace and feel her warm skin against his, her thin but strong fingers stroking his hair. Not to have sex (he didn’t think he had the energy right now) but simply to feel her. But the other part of him knew that it was terribly late and Sakura had a bad habit of overdoing it in the hospital and Academy and wherever they called her, so she deserved every minute of sleep she could carve out.

But…

But Kakashi needed to hear her voice. Damn.

Sighing he went into the bathroom on the ground floor and washed quickly using the little showers: he was tired but not so tired as to take the dirt of the trip to bed and at the same time he didn’t want to risk waking Sakura using the shower upstairs.

A towel around his waist and one around his neck, Kakashi padded up the stairs and went to their room. The fusuma was open and as soon as he appeared on the threshold the man realized that Sakura had not lied in her letter: in fact his wife was not alone in their bed.

With her there was a mountain of dogs.

Sakura was in his half of the bed, lying on her side, the sheets all bunched up at the bottom, Pakkun lying belly up under her right hand. Bull was crouched at her feet, his forelegs intertwined with her legs, and took up most of the bottom of the bed while the other six ninkens were arranged around them: Bisuke had his muzzle pressed against Sakura’s back, Akino was for half lying on Bull, Shiba on his stomach took up almost half of the bed forcing Ūhei to remain curled up in a corner while Urushi managed to carve out a space of his own on Sakura’s pillow and Guruko’s tufted tail was sticking out from under the sheets. Finally a small black ball was curled up on his pillow next to Sakura’s pink head, its tail stretched out to brush her neck: Yoru, their kitten, not even three months old.

Kakashi stared at the scene with his mouth open for a moment, his eyelids blinking fast, and then a laugh escaped his lips. He stopped it immediately but it was too late. Sakura moved and opened her eyes and after a few seconds she brought him into focus.

«Mmm? Kakashi?» she moaned, her voice hoarse with sleep.

He came over and knelt on the floor, one hand going to touch her shoulder left bare by the loose t-shirt she was wearing. That brief contact was like a balm for Kakashi: he knew that he had missed Sakura but until that moment he hadn’t really realized how much.

«Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up», he whispered, leaning forward to gently kiss the skin he had just stroked.

Sakura’s eyes fixed on his and Kakashi got lost in that green, so much so that he almost didn’t notice her fingers caressing his face slowly, gently, as if to memorize every curve and every corner.

Kakashi could no longer restrain himself and leaned forward to kiss her. He didn’t even open his mouth, too exhausted to think about deepening contact, and Sakura didn’t protest. Yet that kiss on the lips, one of the most chaste they had ever exchanged without the hindrance of the mask, lasted an infinity of seconds, the lips brushing and retracting and then approaching again in a slow dance.

Finally Sakura sighed and rested her forehead against his for a second.

«When did you arrive?»

«Less than two hours ago. I had to go to the office», Kakashi replied, his fingers tracing Sakura’s skin in slow movements. Then his gaze was drawn to the movement of a tail and he smiled. «So you weren’t kidding when you said there was someone else to keep your bed warm, huh?»

«Yeah», Sakura chuckled as her fingers mimicking his. «In fact, maybe they keep a little too hot», she added, nodding her head to the sheets abandoned on the bottom of the bed.

«We can always leave, girly», came the grunt from Pakkun.

The little ninken opened his eyes and scanned them with his stern frown but Kakashi knew it was just a farce.

«Absolutely not», Sakura replied, giving a little scratch to the brown fur of his eldest ninken. «You are not going away, tonight».

«Oh. So I’ll take a futon…» Kakashi began, uncertain. Because the more he looked, the more it became evident that the ninken took up all the space in the bed and that there was no room for him too.

He had to admit, he was disappointed. Yes, the sight of Sakura and the dogs snuggled together warmed his heart, but after thirty-four days away, Kakashi wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and fall asleep to the sound of her breath.

«Where do you think you’re going?» Sakura stopped him, grabbing him by the wrist, as if she was afraid of seeing him disappear. «There is room for you too, you know?»

«There is?»

«There is. Come on, Rokudaime-sama, come here», Sakura urged

Kakashi hesitated a little longer, trying to figure out where he could actually lie down. On Bull, like when he was just a six year old boy? Or maybe he could convince Shiba to sleep a little more composed so as to carve out a corner of the mattress?

«Stop being precious and join us», Pakkun scolded him as he idly stretched his legs and slightly changed position. At his words, the other ninkens moved just enough to create a space behind Sakura, small but enough for Kakashi to stretch out beside his wife and hug her. «Or go to the other room: we’ll take care of keeping Sakura company», added his old friend again. Then he closed his eyes.

Giving in to Pakkun’s words and Sakura’s smile, Kakashi got up and shook off the damp towels. He already had one knee on the bed, his eyes looking for the best way to reach his place without stepping on some ears or some tails, when he was interrupted by two brown eyes that glared at him.

«Put on a pair of underwear first», Pakkun growled louder than before. And Kakashi realized that he had never actually worn a pair of boxers after washing. «What are you, a savage?»

Sakura and Kakashi stared at each other for a second, then they both burst out laughing.

[hoshiwilluploadstuff]

In the Spider's Web || Phantom Troupe One-Shot ||

In the Spider’s Web (Phantom Troupe Fanfic)

Summary: She was a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1 and a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, she noticed the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10. *writing prompt*

Warnings: Death, Character Death, and just death- there will always be dead people when its the Phantom Troupe

The offices were mundane as per usual. Yu had been assigned to a new floor to take care of the new employees, or so her supervisor said, but she knew that she had just been given the job because it was exhausting for him.

Lazy prick.

Yu’s eyes drifted off to the people on the floor. Some she knew, some she didn’t, and some just familiar. And just like usual, cloud-like numbers were above their heads ranging only from 3-4. People like her supervisor or those buffy looking fellows were around 5.

Yu had just gotten the ability recently. It helped when she’d walk home alone, who to be wary of, and who to not be afraid of.

“Ah, sorry.” Yu apologized for bumping into a guy. Oh, he was new. He looked like the usual tired office worker trying to get through the day like her. As she was about to introduce herself, her tongue froze.

10.

What?

That couldn’t be possible.

“You alright?” His voice was unusually calm for a new tired guy. He raised a brow.

Calm down, Yu.

Yu managed to wipe off the fear from her tone and laughed it off. “Yea- Yea! You must be new here- I’m Yu Nadmi, your finance manager. I’ll be taking care of helping you around the place.”

She waited for him to introduce himself, but he merely squinted his eyes at her. Scrutinizing her. She gulped. Yep, she was definitely leaving this place. She was quitting the first thing she left the room.

“Right.” He walked past her indifferently. If it hadn’t been for her ability, Yu would have told him off for disrespecting his senior.

But the 10 loomed over his head ominously.

Yu yeeted out of the place immediately. She’ll send in her resignation through email. She was never coming back to that place ever.

Goodbye, promotion.

She hurriedly packed up her stuff- makeup, food, personal documents- everything she owned into her bag.

“Yu, where are you going?” Her co-worker, Lisa, asked. “It’s not lunch yet.”

“My dog died.” was the first thing Yu said. She didn’t have a dog- she had a cute kitten by the name Steve so her parents thought she had a boyfriend or partner or something. Now, she needed to find a new home for Steve so he wouldn’t be murdered like her.

Oh god.

Steve would miss Yu terribly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Yu just nodded, faked a sob, then left. She was on the 4th floor of the building. She quickly pressed the elevator button. It was heading her way. Okay, great. This was just a bad day.

Ding!

The elevator doors opened. She nearly choked in horror. The 10 was haunting her. It was definitely haunting you. Three more people had the 10 over their heads.

What was today?!

The second tallest of the three, a blonde with extremely kind eyes, snapped Yu out of her frozen state. “Aren’t you getting in?”

She couldn’t say no right?? They’d know then. Oh my god.

Yu laughed. “Oh, sorry, I was just dazed.” She entered, feet becoming jelly, and stood beside the small woman with pink hair. She just hoped the fear didn’t ooze out clearly. The doors closed and she pressed the 1st floor. Her eyes couldn’t help but wander over to the floor that was pressed other than hers- 5th. The floor above hers- it led to the boss’ office alongside the other supervisors.

“Do you work here?” The tall blonde asked. You’d have flirted with him casually if not for the 10. Cursed 10.

Yu nodded. “Yea, just new actually.” The lie came out smoothly. “I just finished my interview.”

“Oh? So you’re leaving already? Too bad, you look really pretty.”

May the Lord bless Yu’s poor soul.

“Oh uh thanks… you don’t look too bad yourself.” The elevator dinged just as it stopped at the 5th floor.

“It was nice to meet you, miss. I hope your interview went well.” A bead of sweat rolled down her back as the three left the elevator.

“It was nice to meet you too, sir…” Her enthusiastic smile quickly dropped once the doors closed and her shoulders slumped into relaxation.

Okay, Yu got through that somehow.

But wait, she paused, realizing something.

The number of the elevator flickered to 4.

Only authorized people could enter the elevator from the lobby. And she knew every authorized person in this building. Even if those three were guests, an authorized person would have come with them.

Yu’s shaking hand went over her mouth as she gasped.

The elevator flickered 3.

If one person was at the 4th floor, 3 at the 5th, then...are the other floors even safe? She quickly looked around the small space. Her eyes landed on the square on the ceiling of the elevator.

The elevator flickered 2 and dinged.

“Oi, did you take care of everything on the 3rd floor?” Yu placed a hand over her mouth hearing unfamiliar voices beneath her. There was a pause, she guessed he was talking on the phone.

“Well, Boss should be pleased with how things are going.” Another voice she hadn’t heard of.

Yu held on the metal wire in fear.

“Hm? Did you press this?”

Oh God, if you are there, please let them ignore it.

“They must be done with the 1st floor and are heading up.” Yu’s shoulders relaxed at the other person’s reply.

Yu flinched hearing something wet and heavy drop. A bag, you hoped.

“Franklin’s almost done. Feitan is taking his sweet time getting info on the 4th.” The doors closed and she struggled not to fall over as it moved.

Should she call the police?! Yu didn’t know what to do but she hesitantly took out her phone and pushed it into silent mode. She has seen too many thriller movies that had phones kill them because it wasn’t silent.

She was clearly not going to be one of them.

The elevator dinged, reaching the 1st floor. Yu clenched her fists and looked around her. She hoped there was something you could do to stay on the 1st floor.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to head up to the 5th floor and meet up with the rest.” A woman this time. She sounded old, maybe around her early 30s. It was sharp and held a clear air to it.

Yu realized what she could do. She turned on the record.

“Oh, that was me- I pressed that.” A male? She wasn’t sure. But whatever, the police would take care of it if she got out of this alive. “Let's all head up together.”

If she got out of this alive, Yu repeated the thought with a gulp.

The elevator doors closed again and silence took over. Yu paused the recording and looked up. Her next problem…

She carefully, making absolutely no sound, lied on her back. It didn’t take long for the ceiling to appear and Yu clenched her fists as the ceiling came closer and closer and closer.

Then it stopped, several more centimeters more she would have been crushed.

The elevator doors opened, several footsteps echoed out, and the doors closed.

Now, the thing was, Yu would have entered back into the elevator but the amount of space left for her was impossible to even think of moving.

What the frick was she supposed to do? Was she just gonna lie there and wait???

Just then, the doors opened again. But it was rushed panting and pained groans that greeted her ears.

Someone escaped?

“Come on, come on, come on!!!!”

Yu could hear the constant press of the elevator button, most likely for the first floor. She pressed the palm of her hand tightly against her mouth as tears developed at the edge of her eyes.

“Please, please, oh God, please hurry!!!”

The voice belonged to her co-manager.

Her nails dug on the skin of her cheeks when the terrified scream echoed for only a brief second followed by the ‘shing!’ of a blade until the dark silence took over.

“Tsk, noisy cow.” Shaking fervently, Yu resumed recording to get as much as she could. She couldn’t have expected that they were all going to die.

The thought of Lisa, her co-worker, who innocently asked her where she went echoed in her mind. Yu was selfish, a coward, but even she didn’t know it was going to be like this. The tears escaped her eyes and her breathing constricted as a sob, a real sob, tried to break out of her throat. Breathing carefully, she remained motionless again.

Survive, Yu, you can do this. Steve’s waiting for you.

Her constricted breathing finally relaxed at the thought of her little black kitten waiting at home for her to walk and care for him.

Yu was determined to have Steve ready for adoption because even if she did survive this ordeal, the news would broadcast her survival.

She couldn’t have that. She met like four of the guys with that cursed 10 on their heads. They probably remembered her- she had to give Steve a home before she would be murdered.

“Oi, Fei, get that out. We don’t have Shizuku to clean shit up for us right now.” The voice- it belonged to the guy from the 2nd floor, it was deep.

“Tsk.” The other guy replied. Yu’s shoulders shook as the same fleshy bag was dropped heavily on the ground just past the elevator. Just then, the doors closed and the ceiling above her began to grow farther and farther away.

As the elevator descended, Yu paused the record again and returned to sitting upright. She wondered exactly why this was happening.

The office building she was in was called Spectrum that specialized in marketing. It wasn’t famous for that matter, but it did get rare items that could be bidded in auctions. However, Yu was sure that they didn’t have any rare items as of the month. After all, Yu was in charge of the budgets and there had been no significant changes at all. It was the usual low-grade items sold to the public. The last time they even got a rare item was a year ago.

The loud ding snapped Yu out of her thoughts. She carefully descended from the roof of the elevator, careful of making any suspicious sounds, and exited the elevator. Her hand immediately shot up to her mouth as the urge to retch took over her.

Piles of bodies stretched throughout the lobby. Familiar faces, friends, co-workers stared at her with blank and dead eyes, their blood mixed and pooled around one another. She felt sick seeing the red zero that floated just above their bodies. She had never seen her ability show a zero before. She quickly looked away and took deep breaths into her palm.

The faint smell of iron touched her taste and she doubled over holding back her breakfast. Fortunately, she stomached it back in.

Yu carefully walked over the bodies, careful not to step on the blood and even those zeroes and quietly maneuvered her way to the back door exit. She didn’t think twice to go through the front entrance. The less amount of blood dated all the way there meaning they weren’t scared going up front.

Soon enough, Yu was at the back door exit meant only for authorized people to go through. She quickly hid when a looming person appeared at the corner of her eye.

“I can’t believe I’m taking watch here. Shit.” A samurai? Yu was afraid to take out her phone to turn the recording back on. The back area was barely lit, except the lights that came through the windows. Her position would be seen if her phone screen lit up.

“I’m so fucking bored! I can’t believe I lost to those little shits on rock paper scissors.” The man continued to grumble. Yu shook at the 10 over his head.

Seriously, what the hell??? She just wants to go home, drop Steve at her parents place, then be happily killed. Or she could run away and live in the forest and become a naturalist. Yes, that sounded good too.

“Hm?” Yu froze at the knowing tone of the man. She could vividly hear him scratch his chin. “I can hear someone else here.” Hearing that, Yu immediately clasped her hand over her mouth and tugged her bag close to her chest.

Breathe calmly. Her throat constricted. Yu, calm down.

The scratching noise disappeared and Yu quickly buried herself deeper into her hiding spot.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Her heart beat rang in her ears.

Ba-dum.

The sharp ringing of silence accompanied her heart beat.

“Hm?” It was right by her ear and Yu sprang up and ran. But the collar of her shirt was pulled harshly and she cried out.

“NO!” She struggled hard, pressed the heel of her shoe on his foot, and slammed her elbow hard against his chest. She felt it in slow motion, the squish of joints on the heel and the jolt back of her elbow to her hand. There was an audible thump and a pained yelp behind her as she ran for her life.

Yu headed towards the bathroom. There was an open window for ventilation that she knew fit her size because obviously she had gone through there at some point in her job.

“Oi, Nobunaga, answer your damn phone.” Yu’s small frame slammed into a brick wall and she fell onto her bum. Gasping for her life, her frightened state stared up at the man she had seen in the elevator on the 4th floor. Oh God. He was bigger and wider in an open area.

“The little piece of-!” The samurai was behind her. This buff man in front of her.

She thought she was done for when the buff man looked down at his phone then at her.

“Saved us the trouble. Thought we had to search for your home.” The horror in his words didn’t quite register as the panic of trying to survive settled in. Yu quickly sprang up to dart away, but the buff man instantly grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” was at the tip of her tongue but she bit it back hard feeling the overwhelming strength behind his grip. Her nails dug the palm of her hand, but she tried to think rationally even at this point.

Why’d they need her???

“Lucky girl, I'd slice you open if you weren’t needed.” The samurai, Nobunaga grumbled in distaste. “What is so important about her?”

“Check your phone, idiot.” Yu nearly squealed when the man suddenly laughed, his shoulders shaking making her world go up and down. “What did she do to you to make you so fucking pissed?”

There was the sound of light tapping, Yu guessed was his phone, and a grumble of “Just shut the fuck up and let’s get to the 5th floor.”

Yu felt sick to her stomach as her world swayed around. It didn’t take long for her to be back in that elevator she had been stuck in for what was hours but was merely minutes, and back at the 5th floor she was dying to not go into.

The samurai and the buff man were busy chattering to themselves. Yu was just too dizzy and light-headed at that point to even listen to them. Her bag idly swung back and forth as she was carried away.

“Welcome back, miss~!” Yu was greeted by the enthusiastic blonde man when she was thrown to the ground half-heartedly. She grimaced at his warm smile. “To think an interviewee was actually the finance manager!”

Yu’s eyes met the frightened gazes of her supervisor and the rest of the team leaders. The number 5 floated above their heads. Their faces were contorted in fear and panic with blood splatter on various areas of their tied up forms. She noticed she was the only manager in the group.

“Is that all of them?” her eyes darted to the one who spoke, a blonde woman with a sharp accentuated nose. She knew her voice from the 1st floor.

“Shizuku already got rid of their boss so yea, that’s all of them.”

Why did they need her?

Just as the thought passed, the blonde woman’s eyes flickered over to her. Yu wearily scooched away when the woman approached her.

“Do you know why you’re here?” The woman asked, placing a hand on top of Yu’s head.

Yu nervously looked around her and shook her head. If she was going to die, she hoped it would be quick and painless.

“No…”

“Is the book ‘Melody in the Poison Trap’ familiar to you?” Yu’s brows furrowed, carefully searched her memories, and shook her head ‘no’.

“You liar-!!!” Her supervisor's yelling was cut off by a sharp ‘shiiing!’. Even Yu had to nervously gulp at the samurai’s sharp blade pointed at her supervisor’s adam's apple.

“He told us that you knew of the book’s location.” Yu’s eyes flickered to her supervisor’s angered, panicked gaze and the blonde woman’s calm, indifferent gaze.

Yu carefully looked through her memories but the book that was mentioned wasn’t in any of them.

“The…” Her tongue was heavy as she carefully chose her words. “The only books or compositions that the company was interested in were La Flor Demente, violin piece of the Sonata of Darkness, and the Void Century. B-But the bidding got too high so we were unable to acquire any of them.” She locked eyes with her supervisor when she said the next statement, “There was no Melody in the Poison Trap.”

The blonde woman immediately took her hand off her head and nodded at her companions.

Yu couldn’t even react so much as a gasp when all of the team leader’s bodies were decapitated. Her eyes were still locked on her supervisor’s eyes as the light faded from them.

Once their bodies dropped and their number became a red zero was when Yu couldn't hold back her breakfast.

“Ugh, disgusting.” It was the new guy, supposedly the new guy, who commented while she vomited.

“It was fun seeing them come up with lies.” Yu recognized it as the smaller, softer voice from the 2nd floor. He was the smallest in the group with only his left eye visible from his mop of hair.

“Definitely, especially when they communicated with their eyes.” The enthusiastic blonde chimed.

“I should’ve stayed with the Boss if I knew the fight was going to be as boring as this.” The buff man groaned. Yu wiped her lips as she tiredly gazed at the killers. Her vision was starting to blur but she dug the nails into her palm to stay awake, focused.

“What we do with that? What Boss say?” The new guy grumbled, bringing Yu’s existence back into their focus. She was a ‘that’ now.

Yu pressed herself against the wall and hugged her bag close to her chest.

Why hadn’t they killed her?

Another blonde, but with no eyebrows, spoke this time. “We’re babysitting her.” He said it with a click of his tongue. He was the other guy on the 2nd floor. “Boss said that she’s important.”

“That’s it? Nothing else? Not have Paku over here or Feitan extract the information however they want??” The buff guy looked at his phone then at the blonde, eyebrowless man.

“Nope. We’re babysitting her.” The blonde man confirmed. “So, who’s taking her?” Yu watched as they grimaced looking at each other.

“Not me.”

“Me either.”

“Nada.”

“Nope.”

Or similar phrases were being thrown around like taking turns on who’s supposed to do the dishes for the night, except she was the dishes.

“Let’s flip for it then. Take bets on the majority two who’ll have to babysit her.” The warmer blonde said with a grin. They all confirmed with their own noises.

Yu couldn’t even relax, despite her death not being held by a string anymore. Not because of the dead bodies surrounding her, but because of the haunting 10 over the killers’ heads. All of them were a 10. Even the smallest guy was a 10.

How was that even possible?

The adrenaline from earlier had dissipated once she was dropped there. Her sharpened senses were dulling by the second and exhaustion took over her fright.

“You lose, Feitan!”

“Haha, loser!”

Her eyes drooped as her vision blurred.

“Fuck you, bastards!”

“Oi, don’t get pissed. We won fair and square!”

Then her eyes closed.

--

The cold crisp air caressed Yu’s barely conscious body and stirred her senses to awaken. Her arms were numb from being asleep for too long and pins and needles stabbed her from the tips of her toes up to her knees.

“Ugh…” Yu groaned. Her brows knitted together when a splitting headache hit her head.

“Finally up?” She jolted at the irritated and rough voice from beside her. It was the new guy with the 10.

“Yea…” She grimaced and held her head. “Where are we?” They were in a simple room with the basic furniture for a bedroom. Looking around, she found biscuits and a cup of water on the bedside drawer and a growl echoed from her stomach coincidentally.

“Take it.” The guy said before she could say anything. “Prepared for you.” He was playing with his phone. Yu knew it to be one of the trending moba games, Moba Saga. She played it frequently at home and learned about the heroes as well. She looked away immediately seeing how bad he was at handling a basic hero. Her tongue might be the death of her if she wasn’t careful.

She drank a bit of the water first then ate the biscuits then drank the rest of the water. While doing this, she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering to the screen and her face grimacing every time he made a wrong move.

Maybe he noticed her peering over because he handed the phone to her when his team lost the game.

“Try?” He said, but his words were opposite to the emotion in his eyes. Still, Yu was bored and her only company at the moment was this psychopath.

It’s not like she had a choice.

She shook her head. “I’ll just watch.” He hummed in satisfaction, to which Yu tried hard not to visibly roll her eyes at, and continued to play another PVP game. This time, she didn’t shy away from watching and leaned over to see the game.

He was using another basic hero this time, a jungler. Yu tried not to tell him what to buy, but it was just at the tip of her tongue whenever he just pressed a random item that had good stats. Barely 8 minutes in the game, he must’ve noticed her oozing anxiety.

“What?” He stated, rather than asked, in irritation.

Yu quickly waved her hands. “J-Just nothing. Keep playing.” Actually, she wanted to say- you could’ve dodged that- why did you buy that, your hero is physical not magical- don’t you know the skills of the hero???

She jumped in surprise when he shoved the phone into her hands.

“Then play.” His brows knitted in irritation. He actually looked cute, but the looming 10 was what made her listen to him. While playing, she began to take out one item at a time and replaced it with what she usually bought. In the 5 minutes she was playing, she got a triple skill and two double kills that scored the team their victory.

“Nice.” She muttered, completely forgetting the man beside her. She was about to play again when he snatched the phone from her hands.

“You know the game?” He asked before she could start a protest. Her lips formed a thin line, thinking there wasn’t any harm done, and answered him.

“Yea, I play it at home.” She leaned against the bed rest. “I usually play marksman or mid laner though. I only use jungler when everyone else is being stubborn.”

“Hm. So my play was bad?”

“Yep, pretty much.” She said before the question actually settled into her. In seconds, the man had a sharp knife against her throat. Now, she really was pressing herself deeply against the bedrest.

“So you think you better than me?” The man chuckled, or more like a manic giggle, and slid the blade just below her chin.

Yu really had to forget she just dissed a psychopath that his play style sucked, huh?

“Uh…” She felt the skin of her throat press against the blade as she gulped. “N-No? Y-You just don’t know how to use the heroes…” Her saliva was practically drying up with each word. “Y-You just started…” Seeing the gleam in his eyes, she knew he had been playing for a while. She choked out the “...right?” and prayed that somehow someway something was going to get her out of this situation.

And her prayers were kind of answered.

“Yo, Fei, don’t be a horny bitch. Boss needs her mental state ok.” It was the blonde, eyebrowless male. He was leaning against the open door of the room.

“Tsk.” Yu felt like he wanted to tell his friend ‘Fuck you’ based on his facial expression, but he did take the knife far away from her throat. She wearily rubbed her throat, the sensation of the blade still there.

“You.” She jumped hearing her name. “Let’s go. Boss wants to see you.” Her eyes flickered over to the new guy-why she insists on calling him the new guy? It was shorter than black-haired male-who got off the bed to follow the eyebrowless blonde.

She scurried to follow them as well. In the time she spent on the bed, she realized her work clothes looked awful- dirt, grime, and blood were stuck on the fabric. The memories of what transpired yesterday flashed in her mind.

Wait, how was she so sure it was yesterday? How long had she been passed out?

Her eyes stayed glued on the beige carpet floor while following the shoes of the men in front of her. They weren’t worried at all if she would run. Honestly, Yu didn’t think she could even outrun them.

In two left turns and one right turn, they finally passed a line that led to a room with wooden flooring. The crackle of fire greeted her ears as she looked up to survey the room. Her eyes immediately locked hard on the back plush armchair that was situated in front of the crackling lit fireplace.

A black question mark floated right above it.

She felt all color drain from her face at the sight. A question mark? What did that mean? This didn’t come with her ability handbook- not that she had one, but 1-10 were the only numbers she was told about.

There was no fucking question mark at all!

Yet it floated right in front of her, mocking her.

“Boss, she’s here.” She could faintly hear the eyebrowless man call out to the man called Boss. The question mark moved and she took a small step back when the owner of the dark question mark revealed his face.

Cold. It was as if every fiber of her being was turning into ice. That was the look in his eyes that was locked onto hers.

Beads of cold sweat trickled down her back when he gave her a small smile. Evil. It was as if Satan himself was right before her, chilling her to the bone.

“I hope my subordinates treated you well.” Even his voice was an icy wasteland, tempting to freeze her with every word.

“Y-Ye-Yea, th-th-they did.” Her teeth stuttered as if she was freezing in a pool of cold water.

“Are you alright?” His cool voice, the crease in his facial features, and his body behavior dripped with worry. But it just didn’t show in those cold, blank eyes.

Every moment spent with him felt like being chucked in a bucket of ice.

Her feet turned tail to run but a wide wall of muscle blocked her path. Heavy, panic breathing was pumping out of her lungs now. The screams, the pleads, the begging, and the cries were just lodged in her throat as she racked her brain how to get out of here, away from him.

Going by instinct, she jumped behind the large, burly man and cowered in fear.

“Boss, I think you scared the shit out of her.” The burly man chuckled showing a gleam of his canine teeth.

“Hm…how curious.” The boss’ smile dropped as he held his chin deep in thought. “Well, Miss Nadmi, I apologize for scaring you, but you have something that we are interested in.”

Interested in?

Her hands were still shaking and her breathing was still heavy, but if she didn’t answer him, all other eyes on her would make sure she would. And Yu didn’t want to tread to that scenario.

After licking her cold, chapped lips, she hesitantly answered. “B-Be specific.”

The decapitated heads of her team leaders, the dead bodies of her co-workers, and the horrified scream of her co-manager was fresh in her mind. But the soft meow of Steve, her little kitten, overpowered the dreadful event.

“An antique book, that had just been recently found, was logged in by your company a few weeks ago. The book is called the Dark History. I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

She was, but not because of her company. She had just curiously searched for it when she saw it to be one of the interesting artifacts wanted by Spectrum. What he said even matched the time she was looking into it.

It was all her fault they even went there.

“Yes… But all I did was search for it in the listings- that’s the furthest I went.” Why? She wanted to ask, but bit her tongue.

The boss smiled. “Well, you see, just after that, it disappeared from the stocks of all markets. Right after you had searched for it.”

A chill ran down her spine from those words. Was he saying that she bought it?

“That book cost like 10 billion jenny- that’s more than 100,000 times my salary for 10 years, maybe even more.” She spat out her thoughts in shock. “A-All I did was check the description, the price, and ask for details from the seller that wasn’t covered in the description.” She clamped her mouth shut immediately. The temperature in the room somehow rose in heat after that.

“What kind of details?” He was still smiling.

Creep.

She gritted her teeth, the chill still on set on freezing her from inside. “The pages of the book, what it was made of, the author…”

“Pages?” The boss cut her off.

“Yes, the original Dark History is divided into sections of the history that was deleted from the world, categories filled of the forgotten past, and are then compiled into a specific set of pages of 777. If the pages are more or less than 777, it is a mere fake copy that wouldn’t sell a jenny.”

“You’re very informative about the book.”

Yu nodded frantically. “My dad was an avid collector of information for stuff like that. But he would go on and on and on about just the Dark History and how if in the hands of a powerful person, they’d be able to bend countries to their will.”

“Is your father still alive then?”

“Yes? He’s in his late stages of Alzheimer’s so even if you wanted to get information from him- you wouldn’t be able to.”

“And how did the seller reply to your questions?”

“He didn’t. I actually forgot about the book until…” Yu swallowed the thick glob of saliva down her throat, realizing just how much she just said. “...you asked.”

There was a long brief of ringing silence after that. The boss held his chin in deep contemplation. Yu was holding her breath wondering if she was dead now or dead later.

Was she useless now? Were they going to get rid of her now that she gave them the information? She couldn’t go just yet! Steve was waiting for her at home! He must be starving and...

“I guess you are free to leave now.”

“Oh God, please let me just give my cat to my parents so they can find a new owner for him!” She cried out and clasped her hands together as if in deep prayer.

A few chuckles and laughs echoed throughout the room. Yu was shaking and jittering like a fallen leaf off a branch that she didn’t find the time to feel embarrassed.

“She’s a riot. You’re letting her go that easy, boss?” The samurai, one of the 10s laughing, said.

The boss chuckled. “Yes. Miss Nadmi, you are free to leave. Don’t worry, my subordinates won’t harm you once you leave.”

Yu blinked slowly. Seeing that they were all just staring at her, was it true? She nodded slowly and muttered a soft breath of ‘ok…’ and left. The building she was in was an abandoned apartment complex that was beginning to decay from lack of use. It was already dark, maybe midnight? Meaning she had been unconscious for more than 12 hours.

She ran and ran until she was out of breath. As she was about to check her phone, she realized she had lost her bag and everything in it.

Still, it was better to be alive.

She was glad to find out that they didn’t actually take her to someplace far off from where her company was so she could find her way home easily.

People that were still wondering about at this time gave her odd looks, most likely from her awful and bloody appearance, but she just wanted to go home and check on Steve. Thoughts of calling the police, her parents, a hospital as a matter of fact- were all thrown out of the hill just thinking of Steve.

He must be starving, scratching and destroying anything and everything just looking for her. The thought made her tear.

It didn’t take long for her to arrive at her subdivision. Thankfully the guard was passed out, asleep, so she could go in without questions. She cursed the heavens above remembering her keys were in the bag, but she climbed up to the 2nd floor of the house knowing she had left the window unlocked in a certain way that would only open in a certain pattern.

“Meow.” The tears clouded her eyes seeing her little kitten at the doorway of the room she entered. Steve must’ve heard her and rushed to greet her. Steve quickly jumped into her arms and purred as she cried happily.

“Steve! I’m home, I’m home.” She hugged and kissed her kitten that smelled awfully like her detergent and perfume, but who cares- she could clean it up.

“Mrow...mm…” The little kitten purred against the spot on her chest that wasn’t spotted in dried blood.

“Yes, yes, I’ll get you food.”

The mess Steve made was grandiose. Yu didn’t know how he managed to spill all of her detergent onto the kitchen floor when it was originally in the upper cupboard in her downstairs bathroom. Her perfume, which was her mistake for leaving there, had fallen off the table and spilled its contents on her living room carpet.

She ignored that and prepared him his food. Steve happily ate and drank his warm milk, purring happily.

Thankfully, the little kitten had done his duties in the various litter boxes around the 1st floor.

“Right, right...I gotta call mom so that I’ll drop you off there…” Yu murmured as she dialed her parents’ number on the telephone.

After a few rings, an exhausted, hoarse voice spoke. “Hello…? Nadmi residence...this is their caretaker...ughh...speaking.”

“Yal! Oh god, I’m going to be heading over there in half an hour, okay? I need to drop Steve over. Something happened, I can’t tell what, but Steve can’t stay with me right now.”

“Is it your supervisor or that other supervisor this time?” The exhaustion in her voice dissipated and became serious.

“N-No, not like that.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Did you drink too much milk again? You know that’ll send you straight to the hospital rather than the toilet.”

“Not that either! Just…I’ll be there ok?”

“Okay, Yu. See you.” The call ended and Yu hurriedly washed up. She prepared everything Steve needed from his bath soap down to his little pajamas. The little kitten had finished his business in the litter box when she finished packing everything.

“Ok. Ok.” Yu looked down at the notebooks and papers strewn about and grabbed them as well putting them in a separate bag for herself.

“Mrow?”

“Come here.” Yu picked Steve and put him in his little bag. Time was dwindling for her. Did they really think she wouldn’t notice them? Their bright 10s were clear from everywhere, even if they were greatly hidden. Their 10s could be spotted.

There was no way they’d just let her go so easily.

She gave Steve one last kiss before escaping through the back door. Yal would notice something’s wrong and check her home so Steve was going to be safe at the least.

Yu was sprinting as fast as she could without any sign of direction. She ran into the dark city with the stinking alleys and quiet roads while clutching the bag to her side. It held documents, notes, and pictures about the various antique books her dad researched, including that of the Dark History.

And it wasn’t something she wanted to sell her life for.

They were closing in on her but not going so far as to reveal their position. This was one of the gratifications of having the ability to see the numbers. Their 10s were bright in the darkness.

Finally, she stopped in an empty alleyway with no windows and no doors and turned to her stalkers.

“Right. You guys have been following me for a long time now. Come on out.” She said this oh so coolly, despite her nerves getting all bundled up into bits.

“Huh, I didn’t think you’d notice us…” A deep, southern voice spoke in the darkness. Two burly men stepped out into the light and revealed their presence. The bright, yet ominous 10 loomed over their heads.

Yu felt a bead of sweat trickle down her brow as her eyes widened in shock. Ok, she was expecting the people that had killed everyone in her company- not some unfamiliar people.

Now, she became unwilling to share the documents in her bag.

“You see, little girl, we’re curious as to why the Spider let you go.” The other one spoke in the same southern accent.

Spider?

“They don’t normally let anyone just leave so you must’ve escaped.” The deeper one said and revealed a large axe from his back. “Just answer a couple of our questions and we’ll let you be on your way.”

“I-I will…” Yu stuttered out and took a step back when they took a step towards her. “Just stay where you are.”

“We ain’t gonna hurt you, little girl.”

“We’re 4-star Blacklist hunters- our boss asked us to take care of the Spider. They must be pretty weak for you to be able to escape.”

Wow, what a day for her. Spider? Blacklist Hunters? What the hay were they even going on about?

“You were ordered to get them, not me.” She clarified with a scrunch of her brows.

The bigger burly man laughed. “We have little to no information on them, sweetheart. No one’s seen them and live to tell the tale.” Yu gulped at the darkness in their eyes. “And then there’s you.”

Yu was about to spout the information they wanted, hoping for the best, like before with the ‘Spider’, but then a question mark appeared right behind them.

Her jaw slacked. It didn’t hold the same ominous presence as the boss but it still made her feel off inside.

“What are you looking at, little-” Yu squealed when a bunch of cards lodged itself into the smaller burly man’s face and his body dropped onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“What the fu-?!” The other man faced the same fate and dropped to the ground too.

Her legs were practically jelly and being unresponsive despite her brain screaming her to run right now.

The question mark morphed into a 7 right after, making her eyes widen in surprise.

“Well, the little kitten looks quite surprised.” Yu gasped when the 7 flashed from the darkness and by her side. “The Boss told me to follow you but I didn’t expect you to have any company.” Goosebumps fleshed out on her skin at the toothy grin of a clown.

A clown?

“Wh-What…” She began but felt a sharp stab in her chest. She looked down to see a card, a queen of clovers, as she began to lose her breathing. He took the bag from her as she fell, blood coughing out from her mouth.

“Wh-...” Why? She wanted to say as her vision started to darken and blur. The clown gave a manic grin and flashed her a jester card.

“The Boss simply wanted to see how you turned out~” He cooed. Yu clenched her chest trying to breathe but air was just something she was not given. “You might’ve lived if you hadn’t tried to sell out the Spider. Your honesty really made the Boss curious.”

Hisoka chuckled to himself. “Oh, you’re dead already.” The light in the young woman’s eyes had disappeared and what was left was just a husk of flesh. He looked through the bag and hummed delightfully at the contents. It was what the Boss oh so wanted and maybe the other artifacts too.

His brow raised when a piece of paper that looked quite out of place jotted out from between the documents. Out of curiosity, he picked it up with his forefingers and looked at its contents.

‘Dark History - fake online listings. Don’t trust. Search for man name is Jehovah. Book not available in markets.’

His eyes widened slightly reading this and darted to the dead flesh of the young woman. Huh. A smirk curled at the edge of his lips before he crumpled the little note in his hand. What replaced it were red hearts to which he blew to the dead body.

“Fufufu, it's a good thing I didn’t let you live, weak little girl.”

--

Breaking News: Spectrum CEO is being sued for murder and the suspect of the missing employees of one of their companies. One employee managed to survive up until 3 am before her body was found in the city just nearby the CEO’s estate where he presided.

“Sh-She said she was going to be there in half an hour… I rushed to her home but her kitten was the only one there. The backdoor was wide open and...and…”

The police are still searching for more information on the missing employees and the gruesome death of young Yu Nadmi.

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

1 through 5 for ya boi Alonzo <3

1. Something this character is truly proud of.

Alonzo has been described as “vain” - and he does take pride in his appearance don’t get me wrong - but he is most proud of his position in the tribe; he’s proud of belonging most of all. 

After spending so long by himself as a kid, he’s never really had a group of his own, so to speak. The fact that he was not only given a spot amongst the Jellicles, but also was trusted enough by them to be given a prominent role sends him positively over the moon (but don’t tell anyone), and he takes that responsibility very seriously - even if he’s 90% sure he doesn’t deserve it. 

2. Who they want to please the most.

Alonzo is a very “what you see is what you get” kinda guy, in that he likes to think he gives off the impression that he doesn’t need anyone’s approval, nor does he do anything for anyone but himself (this is a bold-faced lie). There are a handful of cats who he wants to please:

Munkustrap (Sometimes he is over eager to please the Jellicle Protector - to prove that he made a good decision picking him as a second - to the point where even Munk needs to tell him to chill out a bit. He sometimes is a little *over aggressively* protective when he thinks something is a threat, a leftover from when he was a street cat, but he’s trying his best to rope that back in and he’s gotten a lot better at it over the years)

Jellylorum (The closest thing he’s ever had to a mom, Alonzo really does have a bit of a “but if I do this will I disappoint my mother” thought pattern. Doesn’t always *stop him*, mind you, but it’s the thought that counts...Jelly’s disapproval doesn’t make him wither inside, no way Jose. He’s been known to go so far as to asking the kittens “What would your ma say if she saw you doing this?” to try to get them to fall in line.)

Demeter (He’s had a crush on her forever and he honestly has no idea how to handle it because he figured that she was just so pretty and classy and smart that she probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him, so he keeps it inside. Regardless, he likes pleasing her, even if he’s not always sure how to. He’s a very action forward person, while Demeter is more internal, so he has to juggle how to best sort that out.  

Demeter told him *once* that she likes it when he’s around because he makes her feel safer - coincidentally, he started hovering around her more after that...keeping an eye out for her...completely coincidental).

Gus (The old cat told him once that his name was a name of knights, and he’s wanted to live up to that expectation of himself ever since)

3. Who depends on them.

If you were to ask him directly, he’d shrug and say “No one depends on me. That’s not my area of expertise.”, but it isn’t true. 

Munkustrap depends on him to protect when he can’t and depends on him to be his best, Plato depends on him to have his back, Demeter depends on him being around for them and listening to her, Jelly depends on him to help her out when she asks, and Tumblebrutus, who grew to see Alonzo as an older brother figure (though Alonzo will be the first one to say he’s an *annoying* younger brother...he still likes the kid though), depends on him for help adjusting. 

Alonzo perhaps uses a defence mechanism there: he claims that no one depends on him to convince himself of it. If he convinces himself of it, then he won’t feel the crushing weight of failure that hangs heavily in his chest every time he thinks about what would happen if he were to mess up.  

4. What they would do if they had one month to live

As someone whose life was constantly on a “I could die tomorrow” basis for a long time, Alonzo keeps all of his goals short term. Maybe he’d try to loosen up a bit in that month, let a little more of the fun-loving Alonzo shine through. And dance more; he’s always felt best doing that.

5. A cherished personal belonging.

He has a little dried pepper that one of the fish wives, Marta, from the neighbourhood he slums around, gave to him to eat. She was growing them in the garden and that one was on its way out (i.e. it wasn’t going to get any bigger). She told him when she tossed it that if he keeps it, it will protect him from bad things (see: the evil eye). Well, he couldn’t well eat that now, could he? He’s too superstitious.

He also has a bunch of misc. other “junk” things that various cats have given him over the years: marbles from Demeter, a length of rope from Sillabub, a piece of a mirror from Cassandra, a rock from Tumble, etc. He usually accepts these gifts with a strange look on his face, and kinda a nervous laugh because he’s not used to receiving presents, but that’s his version of “I appreciate this”. 

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Blood Sister | Feeding Habits Update #5

Hey People of Earth!

Are we back for another Feeding Habits update? Today let’s chat chapter six!

Blood Sister is the first chapter in Harrison’s POV and also the longest chapter in the book (a little over 8k words). It took me about a month to write!

Scene A:

Harrison gets back to the NYC apartment he shares with his mother after running errands to ward off either the spirit that haunts their walls or to rescue whatever is stuck in them. His mother preps for a dinner as Harrison has invited his old pal Reeve over.

Scene B:

Harrison removes a litter of kittens from behind the drywall. One of the kittens is dead. Strangely, a German Shepherd puppy is also in the litter.

Scene C:

Reeve appears in a glamorous blur and makes an interesting first impression on Suz who seems slightly stunned and endeared by her.

Scene D:

At dinner Reeve confronts Harrison about his “straight-edge” lifestyle since moving to NYC and he realizes her judgements about his life being monotonous are very true--he lacks purpose.

Scene E:

Harrison and his mother clear the dishes and Suzanna confronts him on the fact that he hasn’t told her that Reeve is in fact Lonan’s sister. Suz knows the boys’ relationship is complicated, and plays Devil’s advocate by outright asking Reeve how her brother is. Reeve, who hasn’t seen Lonan longer than Harrison, has assumed Lonan lives with them or is close by, and feels semi-betrayed that Harrison has kept his whereabouts a secret.

Scene F:

Reeve and Harrison drive to a garden and he’s reminded of the event that lead to him and his mother’s return to the east coast.

Harrison meets Winona outside a convenience store, the same woman Lonan meets in ch.6 of Moth Work. She takes him to her mansion where she’s hosting a party and introduces him to her husband. Harrison makes multiple bad decisions which you can probably figure out for yourself!

Scene G:

Harrison wakes up in Winona’s house and is confused to see her and her husband standing over his leather jacket. If we remember what happened in ch. 6 of Moth Work, Lonan gets beat up by Winona’s husband and has Harrison’s jacket & angel chain stolen. We can assume from this scene that Winona has a) recognized the jacket and b) chosen him to come back to her house for the purpose of also beating him up (which happens).

Scene H:

Reeve and Harrison jump a fence into a garden to give the dead kitten an unorthodox “water burial” in the garden’s fountain. Reeve confronts him on why no one has seemed to care about her whereabouts for the last year, and also suggests the only reason he wanted to see her now is because he misses Lonan. Harrison miserably drinks too much wine.

Scene I:

Harrison wakes up in the cold, very drunk, and Reeve is gone. A security guard looms over him. Harrison asks the confused man if he thinks he was separated at birth. Harrison isn’t referring to feeling like he’s been removed from a sibling bond, like the kittens, but a deeper, “indissoluble bond” formed between two people (like the kittens and the puppy). This connects to the title “Blood Sister” as Reeve suggests she and Suzanna may be connected in this way, to the kittens, and to Lonan and Harrison.

This idea of “indissoluble bonds” was reinforced when I listened to Stephanie Harlowe’s coverage on the Parker-Hulme case, and this was the title of her video! This idea of an immutable connection between two people who are forever separated, like the dead kitten despite its death, still being connected to its siblings, was very relevant to how Harrison feels about Lonan.

Excerpts:

Here’s the entire first scene <3

Something has died in the drywall. Suz insists there must also be a ghost—she hears cries when she sleeps—so when Harrison returns to their apartment with both a handsaw and a bottle of holy water, she’s more than pleased.

Today, it snows in New York City, and no amount of brushing off his hair and jacket rids him of the snowflakes he tracks in. His face stings with the bitter early March air, and he’s resettled easily into the east coast grit; he likes the taste of instant coffee and the smell of gasoline.

Harrison shoulders off his jacket, the leather rigid with frost, and undoes the loop of his scarf one-handed. The apartment smells overwhelmingly of cloves and apple peel, and he is unsurprised when his mother rushes over to him, flushed from the kitchen heat, her #1 Dad apron bunching at her hips, and pushes a highball glass into his palm in exchange for his findings.

“It’s a secret recipe,” she says, twiddling through his errands. Suzanna lifts the bottle of holy water to eye level, unscrews its cap, and daps two soaked fingers to her lips just as he dips his fingers into the glass, around its rim, and then into his mouth. The hot mull of liquid bursts against his taste buds, citrusy. “Wish I believed in this shit as much as I believe nutmeg is my new holy saviour.”

Harrison downs the rest of the glass’s contents, the cider’s spice grafting down his throat. Its heat clings to the roof of his mouth, a subtle burn that numbs his tongue, but he likes it, its sweetened acid like a rucking back to life.

“Is that the secret?” He runs his pinky along the base of the glass so the last drops of liquid climb up his fingernail.

“The Lord?”

Harrison laughs and accepts the holy water she hands him, rescrews its cap in place. “Nutmeg.”

Suzanna takes his empty glass and whisks toward the kitchen. On the stove burbles two saucepans and one Dutch oven, the fan whirring like the pleats of an accordion.

“Maybe it’s both,” she says.

You asked for the entire second scene? Here Harrison finds the litter of kittens:

The first thing Harrison removes when he saws through the drywall lining the two-prong outlet is a dead kitten. Its body shifts onto his hand with damp weight, like an overripe pear, its silver hair glass-like under the beam of his flashlight. Though it sits comfortably in the pit of his palm, though he knows he cannot kill or revive it, his first instinct is to lay it on the beach towel Suzanna laid out because he fears he’ll crush it with just one pulse of his thumb.

Its eyes are the size of his pinkie nail, gently shuttered like it’s drifted to a lawless sleep. The animal will remain in this state—only death, but as he looks at it, braying its hairs back with his forefinger, he considers alternative options. Harrison knows little of necromancy, but considers anointing it with the holy water, lighting a red-cased candle in front of it, chanting a verse from Revelations.

With the flashlight secured between his molars, Harrison pulls out four more kittens, all that mew as they cling to his fingers, their noses twitching against his skin like it’s feed. They burrow into the beach towel, trampling over one another with blind fervency, all shimmery silver. In comparison to their deceased sibling, they wriggle, pink-nosed, and don’t settle against the grain of the towel, always wagging, like earthworms.

Harrison believes he’s done—removed the dead animal and rescued four more. Good work which he’ll take to a farm just outside the city—Suzanna has a friend. He’s nearly clicked off the flashlight when he sees it, just a subtle glint of something else—an animal that isn’t silver, but a dry brown.

At first, he thinks it’s a rat that’s raked through the walls to where it is now, but the longer he shines the flashlight, the more he sees it is not a rat, or even a kitten. What sits, jittering behind the outlet, is a pup.

Like the kittens, its nose twitches back and forth, its eyes small enough to be the ovular black beads on Suzanna’s rosary which hangs, decorative, above the front entrance. “It’s a cleanse for the spirit,” Suz said when he questioned her reasoning for bringing religious memorabilia into a house of two atheists. “Dianne from church told me.” Dianne is a beer-bellied schoolteacher, proud pothead and mother of four who frequently volunteers at the church’s weekend functions with his mother. “She’s into that kind of thing. Seances. Jesus Christ. I think she mentioned they had something spicy going on in college.”

“Something spicy?”

“Spicy. Like hot wings. Habaneros. One-night stands. I don’t know Harry, it sounded illicit.”

They both grinned.

Harrison does not know when him and Suz began getting along. There was no one date or time, no anniversary to look forward to for their official reunion. One moment he struggled not comparing her face to the one he knew in his early teens, and the next, they crouched over a salad bowl of burnt popcorn, taking turns painting each other’s fingernails with the same shade of red nail polish—Crazy for Carmine

The dog can’t yet focus its eyes on anything, but Harrison swears it stares at him. It fidgets from its position crouched on the outlet, so when he extends his hand, an offering, he’s surprised when it crouches onto the tip of his finger, shimmying into his palm. It’s even smaller when he holds it, plum-sized, and velveteen. Its eyelids flicker like the apartment’s bad TV signal, and when it opens its mouth to cry, its teeth, no larger than the tip of a toothpick, prick up.

“You’re not a tabby,” he says, drags his fingers through the suede-like gloss of its fur. The pup curls against his knuckles, murmurs languidly until Harrison pets its head again.

“Did you say something, Harry?”           

Harrison stands from his crouch when his mother materializes from her bedroom, the animal still pared delicately in his palm. When he glances at her, he’s surprised to see she’s changed out of her usual loungewear, a tank top and bell-bottoms, and into a patterned shirtdress that sways to her knees. The Matisse-like design, organic shapes, all the colour of a celery stalk, drapes to her knees, flounces when she twirls for him.           

“I thought we agreed on business casual,” he says, but smiles wider the longer he looks at her. Tulle gathers in a funnel down her waist, pluming her so she looks less like his mother and more like a fairy.          

“I’m taking the business side, and you’ll take the casual.”          

“She’s just a friend, Mom. She’s not expecting anything.”           

“She’s got an English last name,” Suz says. Her eyelids glitter with gold pigment, her lips tacky with rouge. “Of course she’s classy.”           

Harrison thumbs the back of the pup’s head and shifts closer to Suzanna when she cocks her head toward it.

“I think Reeve is more than classy,” he says. “Maybe stylish. Exclusive. Superior. Glamorous.”           

Suzanna shifts the pup from Harrison’s hands to her own, neatly patting its head with her pinkie until its murmurs soften. When she holds the animal, it’s like he no longer stands behind her. It’s just her in her Matisse dress and the dog, comfortably blinking in her hand. “You found a puppy in a litter of kittens?” she says, less of a question, and more of a declaration of wonderment. She lifts the animal to eye level. Its nose wrinkles, like the skin of a fig. “Looks like mama picked up a stray. A beautiful stray. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Reeve making only iconic appearances:

Reeve appears in their doorway wearing cat-eye sunglasses, a bottle of pinot noir slatted between her arm and chest. Though it’s been storming since early morning and there has been no sun in the city since the week previous, her appearance is so believable—cheekbones subtly tanned like she’s mastered the timing for a perfect sunlike glow, the sunglasses teetering neatly on the tip of her nose and staying there, like they’re a dog she’s taught to sit and stay—that Harrison’s almost convinced she commissions the sun to come out twice daily for a private show, just for her.

“We booked an appointment,” she says, letting herself into the apartment in a faux-fur blur.

Harrison swivels as she unzips, tooth by tooth, the red skin-slick vinyl of her gogo boots. Her hair falls in an untamed fringe around her forehead, the front sections pinned back by an array of rainbow-coloured butterfly clips. It mimics the fray of her jacket, fluffed around the hood’s perimeter.

Reeve dusts snow off her corduroy culottes, readjusts the collar of her black turtleneck. “When I moved to the city, I forgot how gruelling the winters can become.” She taps the heels of her boots onto the welcome mat so slush flakes onto the rubber before slipping her feet out elegantly, like Cinderella. “I almost believed New York City existed in a fictional bubble where everything remained dry and hot, like in Egypt, or the Mojave. When I asked for a hellish climate, I was hoping for sun and the occasional forest fire. Not ice and more ice.”

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” Suz speaks where Harrison’s words shrivel. She steps from the kitchen to the entrance, her dress flouncing when she extends a hand toward Reeve. “William Shakespeare.”

Reeve looks up. The cold has pinched her cheeks pink, drooled water to her eyes so when she blinks, tears sprout to her jawline. “Suzanna,” Reeve says, and embraces his mother with willful ease, like they’ve been girlfriends for a decade, like they purchase pavlova from the same patisserie at the same time on Thursdays, like they help each other whip perfectly fatty meringues at the same baking class so they can master the same pavlova and never buy it again. “I’ve heard nothing about you and yet I feel we’ve known each other for years. What do they call that? Blood sisters.”

So here’s the whole third scene lol:

At dinner, Reeve pops the cork of a bottle of pinot noir with her teeth before Suz tells her she and Harrison don’t drink. She’s in the middle of saying she’s a prophet, the bringer of wine, her lips parted around the cork, traces of her lip gloss gumming around its circumference.

“No alcohol?” Reeve says, spitting the cork into her palm so a glob of red transfers onto her skin.

Suz stirs a serving dish of clams with an olive wood spoon, their shells phosphorescent in the artificial light. “Harry and I have taken a break from spirits. Except for the holiest one of course.” She points to the roof as if signaling to the man upstairs and dishes a spoonful of clams onto Reeve’s plates, the shells chiming against the ceramic.

“That’s so reverent.” Reeve pricks the edge of a clam with a toothpick and swallows its frill into her mouth. “So virginal.”

Harrison accepts a spoonful of clams from his mother and adjusts a sprig of rosemary so it lies perpendicular to the plate’s edge. Olive oil gums under his fingernails and soaks into the fibres of a slice of bread he rips at the crust.

“I always assumed you’d be a partier if you ever moved back to the city,” Reeve says, and it takes Harrison a moment to realize she’s speaking to him. “Disco. Karaoke. Cocktails. Men who buy you cocktails.”

“Has that been your life in New York, Reeve?” Harrison sucks a lobe of clam between his lips. Its brine coats his tongue in a burst of salt and cilantro.

Reeve tips the bottle of wine to her mouth, its red gift bow shifting, silverish with light. “You could say that. I just expected more. Not that your life now is boring. But I assumed there would be more glamour.”

Harrison sops up a dribble of oil onto a shear of bread, and says something like, “I thought so too,” before swallowing.

“We have glamour,” Suz says as Harrison absently eats more clams. She points to the chandelier the two found at the bottom of a New Jersey dumpster, yet to be installed, sitting in its crystal glory on the floor. She explains the story of how it came to be as Harrison eats and listens for the mewing of the kittens, thinks about their one dead sibling that now lies curled inside a shoebox, separated in eternal rest.

Reeve is not wrong. Life in New York City has been far from glamorous. He shares this apartment with his mother who pays for all of the rent—it’s been months since Harrison could hold down a steady job. He tries with odds and ends—repairing a neighbour’s bathroom sink, tacking sconces up outside the apartment for a hundred bucks. His room is a décor-less box that smells like wallpaper even though it’s sanded smooth and painted with two coats of an eggshell-finished oatmeal white. There is no dancing, no music, no colour, no partying, no alcohol or men with alcohol. Not anymore, at least. Her statement should not sting—this is the utter truth. The apartment is repetitive shades of indistinctive creams, furniture he and his mother pick up off the curbs of wealthy homeowners, incomplete, yet his home, nonetheless. No matter the story Suz tries to spin—look at the exposed brick, look at the counter space, look at the custom-moulded baseboards the previous renters installed—he knows what Reeve has said is true. Life in the city is comfortable but monotonous—an unrelenting kind of normal.

“We found kittens,” Harrison says, promptly interrupting the women’s conversation that has quickly moved away from the apartment to their favourite places to eat gelato. Suz’s clam drifts off her toothpick; Reeve almost chokes on a gulp of wine. Harrison swipes a chunk of bread through olive oil and chews. “That’s glamorous.”

Reeve sets the wine bottle back onto the dinner table and folds her hands over the other. Her manicure is chipped, just the remnants of a tortoiseshell marble. “What kind? Calico?”

“They’re just kittens. And a dog.”

“You found a dog in a litter of kittens?”

Harrison eats one last clam and finishes his portion of bread. “Glamorous,” he says, his mouth half-full.

The beginning of scene 4:

While Suz and Reeve discuss room décor and clear the plates, Harrison checks on the kittens. Dishes clank rhythmically as they’re soaped, rinsed, dried, the ceramic whimpering in time with the kittens. He hasn’t named any but understands their differences. Though the quadruplets share the same silver coat, one has a slightly larger nose than the rest, one has a fleck of gold in its blue eye, one has pinstripes scrolled across its forehead like a branch of lightning—small details like this differentiate them.

In his palm, the one with the golden eye crawls, its underbelly sateen. Tomorrow, he’ll make the drive just outside Brooklyn where he’ll drop the kittens off at an old farmhouse. Suz’s friend from rehab is selling it, some Theodore Harvey, but his wife fosters animals, and was delighted to have the new additions. Though he hasn’t spoken to his mother about this arrangement, he also knows tomorrow he will keep the dog. Juniper, he’s named her—June with the eyes like a solstice.

When his mother pokes him, he jumps, and the kitten shimmies off his palm.

The sounds of dishes clinking morphs into the filmy mutter of a talkshow Reeve watches, sipping absently at her gifted bottle of red wine.

She nudges a pastry into his hand, where the kitten once sat, the skin of the pasteis de nata oiling his hand. He crunches into it as she watches patiently, as if waiting for a review, and its caramel flavour ruminates on his tongue.

“This is good,” he says around a mouthful of pastry.

“$4.99.” Suz smiles and takes a nibble herself. “For six.”

Together they stand over the kittens, passing the tart back and forth until Harrison gives the final piece to his mother. The apartment whirs with the calculated singe of automated laughter and the purr of the kittens. He knows one sits dead in a shoebox on his bedroom dresser. The ground too hard to dig, a burial still necessary.

Suz licks a crumb from her thumb and wipes her palms along the skirt of her dress. Their focus shifts to Reeve who lies sprawled against the two-seater, yelling something at a contestant on the show who’s gotten an answer wrong—tulip, not two lips. That’s fabulous. You are fabulously a failure.

“You didn’t tell me she was Lonan’s sister.”

Harrison pokes at a flake of pastry and wipes his hands on the front of his jeans. Reeve’s bangles clatter in a cyan jangle as she applauds at the same contestant she previously ridiculed. There are so many things he could say to his mother—he knew Reeve first, Reeve isn’t just Lonan’s sister to him, more like his own, but when he adjusts himself, swallowing and tidying the hem of his shirt, all that comes out is, “I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“I would’ve like to,” Suz says. “Does she know? That you don’t know where he is?”

Harrison’s fingernail catches on a loose thread, and he yanks it out so even Reeve glances back at its upholstered plink. “I know where he is, Suzanna.”

Reeve and Suz being icons (direct continuation from the above):

Harrison turns back to the kittens who plow over one another like ants. Heat flushes his throat, prickles his cheeks and ears and suctions like a vacuum. Though Suzanna eventually leaves, joining Reeve on the couch, propping her feet on the same coffee table so their polished feet touch, toes pink like raw cherry tomatoes, though he knows they’re both right in knowing and not knowing where Lonan is, though he knows it should no longer matter to him, he finds himself leaning against the table where the kittens encase each other in a plastic shoe bin, ticking his fingers at his side.

He does not know what the reality television show is about. From the blots he hears from the TV’s can-like speaker, he concludes it’s something about botany, love, vengeance, fertilizer. No one theme—it does not even know what it is itself. Suz has materialized with another tart, and she and Reeve nibble at it with fervency, so close, their tongues almost touch as they dart across the custard. The sight is almost viper-like, their teeth notched forward, and it should be venomous, or at its worst—friendly, but all Harrison sees is girlish, maternal intimacy.

Suz and Reeve laugh at a contestant who wears a tartan printed jumpsuit and mismatching earrings—one the shape of a pineapple, the other an urn-like bead she claims holds the ashes of her great aunt. They outline her figure with their pinkies. They clutch each other’s hands. They flush like beets and wipe crumbs from each other’s mouths.

Reeve’s momentary lapse into delicacy:

Harrison turns his back and pretends to tend to the kittens. They all know he does nothing but thumb the backs of their heads, let them suckle against his fingertips—they all know, and yet, he continues doing it. Silence cuts through the apartment like hot glass.

If Reeve and Suzanna still touch toes, it’s because neither want to loosen the other’s pride. The only sound in the room belongs to the television which has moved away from dishwashing to a watering hose—four for four, as if this is a discount, as if anyone will truly need that many watering hoses.

“I haven’t seen your brother since late August,” Harrison says once the commercials simmer back to the gaudy laughter of the reality television show. At first, he doesn’t look at Reeve. He knows what he’ll see—some form of betrayal. She didn’t come here looking for Lonan. She hasn’t even asked for him, but he knows what he’ll see when he looks at her. Best friends do not keep secrets.

When he concedes, he is right. Reeve looks at him from under a thick smear of kohl, her eyes focused, like slate beads. Her lips are pink from wine and she unhinges a fleck of opal nail polish from her thumb. Her mouth does not move, a straight line that cranks with her jaw.

“Where is he?” she asks, fluttering her lashes when Suz pats her arm. If Harrison is right, Reeve hasn’t see her brother since she peered in on him when the two shared the tent, pearled a few smoke rings from Harrison’s cigar, and left for the east coast. Before he left, Foster filled him in on the details of her eventual cross-country desertion, though there weren’t many. How he’d last seen her at the motel, a margarita wobbling in her palm, what she’d said to him, to stay special, that there weren’t many people like him left, and how she had vanished like vapour by the time they realized to check. While Reeve hiked across the country by herself, he and Lonan swam through nighttide and badly waltzed in a four-by-four bathroom. She made an anonymous life in New York City, hailing cabs with just her eyes, and learning the easiest ways to shoplift. Alone. Her last memory of Lonan one where he pretended to sleep so he didn’t have to say goodbye to her.

“Las Vegas the last time I saw him,” Harrison says. He feels the urge to apologize for something, to hug her, or cry. Though her expression unbends from severe back to her perfected mould of glitzy conviction, her momentary lapse into delicacy startles him. He looks back to the kittens who seem more interested in themselves than him.

Reeve tightens her grip around the neck of the wine bottle and tactfully sips, her pinkie erect, her lips pursed just the right amount. “What happened?” she asks and sets the bottle onto the coffee table. She lets a dribble of wine fall from her mouth so she can dab at it like a wounded animal.

Harrison and Reeve in the car:

Harrison brings the box with the dead kitten and Reeve brings the bottle of pinot noir. Together, they settle in her red Beetle convertible, a car she insists she pawned for a quarter its listing price, though he figures from the way she settles in it, carefully placing the wine bottle in the cup holder, wiping her hands on her thighs as if checking for grease, that it must belong to a roommate or boyfriend, if she has either. The car smells faintly of pineapple and vanilla, a scent not unfamiliar to him, the waft strengthening as the tree-shaped air-freshener swings closer to him with every turn.

Reeve asks vaguely of his time in the city, how life has been for him and his mother since they moved from Vegas in mid October. Her mouth flutters with speech, each word like the hull of a hard candy she specially tastes before sharing. Has it been marvellous, just as you thought? Don’t you ever wonder how a city could become so brilliant? Isn’t the weather maddening? Don’t you adore it? She asks about Foster, what living with him was like, what saying goodbye to him the week previous was like—was it tragic—and he could tell her his move in with him and his mother wasn’t much of a plan—not a last resort either, but a salvaging. A necessary resuscitation. Reeve’s lips as dubious as shadow puppets.

Here’s some of the flashback with Winona at the convenience store:

The woman stood under the hex of the convenience store’s light, spooling her in a feverish blue. The sun had been down for hours, but its residual heat clung to Harrison’s arms in tacky gusts that wound up his fingers. Like the woman, he reached for his cigarettes. Vehicles spun across the highway just beyond the gas station, and when he raised his head after lighting the cigarette, the woman was staring at him.

“Aren’t you too young to be out without a parent or guardian?” she asked. Her hair was the colour of his mother’s candlesticks, a waxy boxed red. Her rings waggled in the false light.

“Maybe,” he said, a curl of smoke looping out of his mouth. “Can’t remember which life I’m on. There are so many. I could be ninety-seven. Tomorrow might be my birthday.”

It was September in Las Vegas. White licks of car exhaust laced the black sky, and though it wasn’t cold, Harrison pulled his jacket tighter around his chest.

Winona tries to figure out whether or not Harrison is a local by getting to know his eyes/face lol:

Harrison dropped the butt of his cigarette and stomped out its embers. When it was fully out, he fit his hands into his jacket pocket and approached the woman. Up close, her trench coat was pebbled with lint, a bead from her charm bracelet missing. She crushed her cigarette too, and when her hands were free, she stepped toward him with both palms out, and pressed them to his cheeks so he felt both the heat of her skin and the watery bite of her jewelry. She examined each plane of his face as if they were sides of a prism. Her perfume, a vinegary sort of citrus, stung his eyes the closer she got, the fur of her jacket’s trim brushing his chin when she pressed to her toes for a better look.

“You could be so many things,” she said, tilting his jaw at the same moment her pinkie slid from the jab of his nose bridge to his top lip. She pushed her face closer to his and inhaled, her plastic nail marking his skin with a pixel of glitter. “You’ve got the face of an angel. Which means you’re good. You’re sacred. You’re discreet.” When her finger poked into his mouth, her knuckle snagged on his canines. “Could also mean you’re a fraud. A criminal. You know, Lucifer wasn’t always the fallen angel.”

A bit of the party:

Winona’s front lawn was manicured, cropped neat at its soil scalp. Clusters of people huddled in different places—four gargling in the stone fountain just before the iron gate, two drinking from three martini glasses at once, a group of on their backs, arms wound like a wicker basket, shot glasses teetering between their teeth like human serving tables.

Winona parked opposite the house that pulsed with light. Harrison got out when she did, and with ease, she punched into the gate, leading him past her perfect lawn, her party guests, as if they were simply garden statues.

Inside, more people concentrated, all stopping Winona for a moment to say hello as she passed. She moved in a way only the owner of a house would, her strides easy, like she knew exactly where to take him and when.

“I know it’s busy,” Winona said, adjusting her volume for the holler of party guests. “I promise it’s always like that. Who is it that says we need partners for life? God or my therapist? This is that but every week. You meet so many people.”

Harrison listened to her haphazardly. Though he’d been in Las Vegas for a month, he hadn’t been out except for a few errands at the grocery store or for cigarettes, despite his mother’s insistence he quit. The party was overwhelming. Bass from the stereo caught him by the throat and held him there as he and Winona threaded through her house that seemed closer to a mansion. The interior smelled like cleaning bleach and fruit cocktails, and he could hardly walk without someone rearing into him. He should’ve left, known better, done better, but it thrilled him, every moment of the party’s chokehold.

When Winona pushed through her French doors and out to the back pool, Harrison tailed her closely, unsure he’d be able to keep pace if he lost sight of her, even for a moment. The backyard smelled artificially floral, like orchids, tuberose, the grassy melt of citronella candles.

Some of my fave Harrison dialogue:

“You should’ve told me you were into vintage. Cheap but chic. I like it, angel.” Her ring finger smushed into his jaw, and then against his hairline.

“What’s vintage about me?”

Winona laughed, though her eyes remained glass-like. “Your jacket, of course. You’re thrifty. Into second-hand.”

~~theme makes an appearance:

It was only later, when he stumbled, bloody knuckled, through their front door, stepping over partygoers and martini glasses, that he understood. He hadn’t come to the party thinking about Lonan but managed to attract the same people. He hadn’t drunk the magenta liquid thinking about him but managed to exit the house stumbling, as he did, his knees knotted like a newborn lamb. There was something inconceivably indissoluble about them—their bond mirror-like, one making one decision, and the other mimicking it with vigour, unknowingly inseparable.

God tier denial:

“What do you miss about him?”

Harrison blinks. He hasn’t expected her to speak to him again, in fact he’s pictured the night whittling into gauzy silence, them setting the box afloat in the fountain, and then leaving once more, wordless. Reeve drinks another sip of wine. Its scent stings, like earthy cranberries.

“I don’t,” he says, which is a lie, and they both know it. Harrison has never been a good liar, but especially a bad liar around Reeve who’s always managed to snuff out the truth. She looks at him in absolutes, like she sees his every answer scraped into his cheek and doesn’t need to check his work. Her eyes are feline and rimmed with kohl and aquamarine mica—she doesn’t need anyone to tell her the truth because she holds it in her fist. “He has a girlfriend. He’s happy.” Harrison rations more wine down his tongue, three times as much as he’s intended to drink.

“But what do you miss about him?”

Harrison misses nothing. He sleeps little and smokes too much because he misses nothing. He walks by himself, eats by himself, talks to himself because he misses nothing. He jumps from job to job, person to person, place to place because he misses nothing. He wakes up in dazes the colour of blackberries because he misses nothing. He blinks dreams from his eyelashes like they’re bad spells because he misses nothing. He holds himself, he drinks himself, he leaves no company for anyone because he misses nothing about Lonan. He misses absolutely nothing.

Harrison sits up and lifts the dead kitten’s box. He feels Reeve’s gaze when he lowers it into the fountain, the box giving into the slosh of water, and feels her gaze once more when he sits back and drinks more wine. The moon makes him miserable, its silver gloat like a reminder, of how easy it would be to look at it and see Lonan’s face appear in its dime. He doesn’t register how much he drinks, just that it feels better than not drinking. He doesn’t register that Reeve never takes the bottle, that it’s just him and its open gape of wine. As the kitten swirls around the fountain, he tries not to think of its siblings back at the apartment, all mottled over each other like burrs. An unbreakable bond, and what that means, even as one of them sits alone, gurgling along the current of a fountain.

If you didn’t ask for angst before, you sure did now:

He does not remember falling asleep, and so waking up feels illusory, shimmery, like a mirage. He focuses on dart of yellow light and a man wearing a security uniform telling him he can’t be here, here being the garden, past the fence, under the fountain. Snowflakes have clumped against his eyelashes and he blinks twice to dislodge them. The man must ask him if he’s intoxicated, never noticing the shoebox floating in the fountain, because Harrison says, “Who’s to say? I miss so many things,” and isn’t talking about the bottle of wine or Reeve that both seem to have vanished, as if they were never there. Harrison blinks again, searching for Reeve’s outline somewhere in the crisp bushel of dead foliage, but she never reappears—has he imagined the entire thing, or is she magical, effervescent, invisible? What was the last thing she said? Drink it all. It’s good for you. It’s like your own personal healing tonic.

“Do you think it’s possible I was separated at birth?” Harrison asks the security guard, who leads him by the elbow out past the iron gate and into the parking lot where he stumbles over a patch of glazy slush and onto his knees.

“Are you a twin?”

Harrison draws his index finger through the slush, doodling nonsense—letters of his name, an eyeball, a singular, faceless nose. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Your twin?”

Harrison shakes his head.

Snow and slush dredge his jeans and the hem of his jacket; a streetlamp filters him and the security guard in foamy yellow. His skin has numbed from sitting out in the cold too long, and in some places, prickles with heat, like the fritz of pine needles. Reeve has dissolved in the fresh spatter of snow that settles on the pavement, his fingers. The fur fringe of her hood gone, the slick of her boots. She will not be here tomorrow. He may never see her again, and yet this is not what makes him ache in the way he does.

His hands move for him. Dividing the snow in slopes, curves, lines—letters. When he’s finished, he rests his chin on his own shoulder and dries the slop of slush from his nail. The security guard leans over, bends down to get a better look, but Harrison doesn’t have to look to know what he’s written. Chiselled so the flurries fill its gaps, like cement. His name will be erased by dawn. Lonan.

So that’s it for this very, very long update! See you for chapter seven!

--Rachel

[paganinpurple]

A Feline’s Family - MariChat May 2019

Buy Me A Coffee?

AO3

Chapters (If there’s no link, it’s not written yet)

1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10

11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20

21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31

Day 20 - Pranks

Ladybug dropped down onto her balcony carefully, watching for movement from the corner of her eye as she allowed her transformation to melt away into the icy breeze around her. She’d only been gone for an hour or two. Her legs had desperately needed stretching and she’d been a jiggling ball of anxiety lately, whenever Adrien had been far too smug and quiet looking.

When Master Fu had suggested that the two of them begin doing active training together to help strengthen their bond and teamwork, she had expected sparring. Maybe races across the city or something. Not this.

Apparently, Master Fu wanted them to sharpen their wits as well as their muscles and had convinced them that trying to out-fox one another in little ways was best. She was sure he meant more mental challenges than what they had slipped into, but honestly the riddles he had left them with were infuriatingly boring, and it was still a little difficult to think straight with Adrien sitting right there beside her, trying to read over her shoulder. What else had he expected from a couple of young teenagers living in such close quarters together?

It had started with Adrien stealing the last of the milk at breakfast one day, leaving the empty carton in the fridge to disappoint her when she tried to pour herself some for her own cereal. So, of course Marinette had retaliated by painting his soap with clear nail polish. She had giggled when he started yelling from the bathroom later that night.

He had quickly upped the ante, and she did the same in retaliation, both of them swept up in the fun of pranking each other. Just yesterday, Adrien had replaced the cushion in Marinette’s favourite spot on the couch with a balloon carefully stuffed inside the cover. She had let out a mortifying squeal when she threw herself back on it and it popped with a loud bang. Her latest revenge had been to tape an air-horn beneath the computer chair. Being taller than her, Adrien had automatically tried to raise it, making the lever hit the air horn button and scaring himself half to death as she laughed downstairs.

They’d gone back and forth for a week or so now and she was honestly starting to get a little worried. He was bound to try something truly awful now.

If she’d told herself a few months back that she would consider Adrien Agreste an evil genius these days, she would have laughed herself hoarse. And yet, here she was, terrified of whatever terrible retribution he had dreamed up for her.

Slowly, she moved towards the skylight she had left closed (but stupidly forgotten to lock) when she had gone out earlier. He’d had plenty of time to set something up if he wanted to catch her on her way back in, so she was extra cautious, waiting for any sign of movement before she shifted her weight between her feet. It paid off as she approached because she managed to spot the flick of a feline tail above her and a strange sloshing sound that told her water was probably involved in his plans.

She let out a humiliating screech as she dived away towards her sun lounger, the only part of the balcony at least somewhat covered by her awning. The shadow of a large projectile loomed through the awning, silhouetted against the sun shining through the material and giving Marinette the perfect view of its approach.

As if in slow motion, she saw Chat Noir jump down from the roof, somehow faster than the water balloon he had dropped, to stand in front of her ready to gloat. She watched in fascinated horror as his expression changed to shocked dread as the balloon refused to pop and instead bounced off of the angled awning and straight at him.

Marinette closed her eyes at the moment the balloon exploded, a deafening squelch of sound invading her ears. She peeked with one eye at first, the other quickly opening as she took in the sight of him, a wide grin slowly overtaking her face.

A soft giggle erupted at first, quickly turning into a full-blown belly laugh as she tried to turn away from him. She soon realised she couldn’t help but look at the miserable sight before her.

Chat was soaked from head to toe. His usually fluffy, erratic hair was lying flat and lifeless. Every inch of his suit was saturated and dripping into the flooded remains of the balloon at his feet. He stood there, the perfect example of a grumpy cat, attempting murder through his eyes alone as she laughed.

“Think this is funny, Maribug?” he asked her, a cruel sneer appearing on his face.

Her laughter stopped abruptly as she watched him, sure he was up to something else now, despite his awful luck with his latest prank. As he started to stalk towards her, Marinette backed off, only to bump into her lounger. A quick glance behind her told her she had run out of places to go. She tried to move sideways, to get herself out of the trap she’d accidentally sprung on herself, but Chat suddenly took up all available space around her as he gave her a sopping wet hug.

Yet another squeal left her mouth as she tried to fight him off, Chat giggling like a five-year-old the entire time as he carefully tackled her to the lounger and rubbed his wet hair against her face.

“Kitty!” she yelped, “It’s too cold out here for this! You’re freezing!”

With a final chuckle at their situation, Chat relented, lying beside her instead and letting his transformation drop. Both kids giggled as Plagg immediately began screeching in disgust at his holder, shaking himself dry and phasing his way through the floor to heat up, mumbling about warm Camembert the whole time.

Marinette ran her hands through the sodden strands of hair hanging in Adrien’s face, soft affection for the boy starting to override her usual nerves at their closeness. He shivered in response, the icy air beginning to chill him without the protection of his suit.

“Warm me up, Princess?” he asked, pulling her into a damp hug and causing the colour to rise to her cheeks again. She hoped she could play it off as being caused by all her laughter today.

Gently shoving him away, Marinette got up from the lounger, turning towards the skylight for a moment, before turning back and offering him her hand. “Let’s get some warm towels and fresh clothes, you dumb kitten,” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice, “I don’t want to catch a cold out here.”

She tried desperately not to think too much on the way Adrien’s hand had lingered in hers even after she had helped him up from the lounger, and how they had only separated when it was necessary for them to climb down.

She tried, but she failed.

Buy Me A Coffee?

[velvetv0nblack]

An open letter;

(Possible trigger warning)

I’m not even sure why I’m writing this, maybe because this theme of abuse has be something I’ve been experiencing as a third party, the person removing the victim this time, you know the role many of my friends filled within our tumultuous relationship... maybe it’s because my friends abuser is now threatening and harassing me for helpingher leave... maybe it’s because I’ve finally found my therapeutic dosage of lithium, am in a clear mind and are therefore able to reflect properly for the first time in my life... or maybe it’s because this is not an apology, I mean maybe it is if you had only been a serial cheat, but the truth is you fractured my skull and cut me open with a knife, so this is not a fucking apology. Also I’d rather rip my own eyes out of my skull, smash them with a hammer, and then inject the liquid into my ass than actually engage you in any kind of conversation, so knowing that this is the one platform you can still check for me on, I’m going to post this here... Its about time I had my say without putting myself in physical danger.

You would think I wouldn’t have an essay to correct your 3 lines of a nothing apology, but here we are I guess.

This kind of self deprecating “I wasn’t good enough for you” narrative is truly infuriating, and not because you were actually good enough for me but because of the very reasons you proved yourself not be “not good enough”. You weren’t undeserving of me because you didn’t work, I am physically incapable of doing so myself and I didn’t fall in love with you because you came across mad motivated. You weren’t undeserving of me because you took drugs, drank like a fish or smoked like a chimney, we were both purposefully killing our selves in the same way. You weren’t undeserving of me at all, until you fucked my best friend in the bathroom and collectively gaslit me into wondering if I was imagining the whole thing, and slowly but systematically broke down my confidence and support network away from me. I want this to be very clear; the reason you do not deserve me or any other decent human being is because, you are an abuser, you abuse people.

I was barely a whole person when I met you. I was barely an adult. I had lived through so much already, and had been abused in every area of my existence. I was easy pickings to you. The issue was you were not a pawn to me, a player in any game, or any of that. To me you were this fascinating, beautiful soul, to me you were someone who needed my love who needed someone to support you and I couldn’t believe that you chose me to fill that role. I was freshly 18 that month, and I had just had a flat mate steal £3k and kill my kitten.

I weighed all of 63lbs that night you lost the plot on me because I didn’t want to go to Big Red to watch that actual cunt of a waitress smile at me as she gave you lap dances, it’s not even a dance joint it was a fucking bar. You allowed other people to emotionally abuse me with you for months up until this point and I just didn’t want to go, all I wanted was the keys and I would of gone home alone and gone to bed. Why you feel the need to publicly humiliate me again instead of just leaving it? You couldn’t just go be adulterous without me watching and hurting, so you followed me home, screaming at me the whole time. You told me I was pathetic, you hated me, I should just kill myself- on a bus on a Saturday night, from the bar I worked in, in soho, back to our place near Caledonian Road. I was so unstable anyway, undiagnosed autism, misdiagnosed mental health issues, on the wrong if any medication, deep within the throws of an addiction and eating disorder... you. I couldn’t take you verbally ripping my heart out anymore when I decided that throwing myself from our 3rd story window would hurt less. The fact I could of died isn’t what made you grab me and stop me jumping, no in fact you told me you don’t care if I kill my self as long as it’s not in the flat, you were much more concerned with the amount of drugs in the flat and the prison opposite our window. At that point you threw me full pelt across the other side of the room, all 63lbs of me flew through the air like a paper aeroplane and smashed directly into your guitar. You know your beloved custom Les Paul? The headstock came off, and at that very moment despite the fact you were the one who threw me, my life was the one in danger. You started strangling me and threatening to have men come down to London to gang rape my then 14 year old sister. It gets a little fuzzy, that’s what your brain does when you experience potentially life ending trauma. I do know I ended up with stitches in my lips and hands, that you fractured my right eye socket- that I still suffer issues with to this day- and had black bruising covering my entire body like a bus had hit me.

For a couple of years there my brain completely blocked out important details of that night, and a lot of our relationship. Don’t worry though periodically I have the real type of flashback where I relive these events and I come back to reality remembering more than I ever wanted to. I’m yet to even touch on the fact that whilst I may of been able to escape you in waking life, my dreams are perpetually stuck in this horrific PTSD dream land, a town that is a mash up of all the places I’ve been traumatised in my life, the place you eternally reside inside my head to traumatise me whilst I desperately need to rest. You haven’t really left my life despite the efforts I have made to avoid you (I think I’ve seen you once, from a distance once at Download 2 years ago, my heart fell out my ass, and I dragged Camilla in another direction) I have only 2 dreams in 6 years that haven’t included you chasing me down to finish what you started and kill me or keep me captive. But that’s what trauma does, and oh how you traumatised me.

I really loved you though, that’s why I stayed, and those couple times I tried to leave before I came back. I loved you so unconditionally that it took me realising that everyone else around us was so complicit that they’d help you hide by body. To this very day I cannot believe a man, a male roommate, walked in on you pinning me into a sofa by my neck, with both your planted knees on top of my chest, full weight suffocating me, biting the end of my nose until it was blackened and he had the audacity me I needed to calm down. I have to label the guy the world biggest pussy in my head so I don’t get wound up about it.

I wasn’t perfect, I can never be perfect, I have more imperfections than most. I am severely mentally and physically unwell- I sure as hell am a pain in the ass to love- however I cannot actually think of a damn thing I did to deserve constant unending emotional abuse, threatens and follow through of physical abuse and then after I left stalking and harassment. I am difficult but I am not deserving of abuse and that’s all you gave me in the end... unless of course you “needed your baby girl to suck your dick” - that was the only time you were ever nice to me, and I know because I recently read back a bunch of our texts and you flipped between “I hate you, I’m gonna kill you/kill your self” to “I need my beautiful girl to come and suck my dick I love you so much” is actually fucking insane. - Should I bring up the fact you would bang pathetic girls on the scene and then dicknotise them into stalking and harassing me with you? Because... what I had the audacity to leave a man, of over 6ft tall, who would become violent to my 5ft 63lbs self?

So yeah, you didn’t deserve me, but not because of any self deprecating attention seeking reason but because you’re a sociopath, who seems to take pleasure in fucking with vulnerable women.

Am I happy? Now that’s a fucking difficult one to answer.

I ended up homeless on and off for a year. Despite the homelessness I had suffered before this was worse because of the place I was in mentally.

You caused me to develop complex PTSD.

You caused me to have a 3 year long psychotic break.

You caused me to live in secure supported housing, where I was prayed upon by other residents.

You caused me to fall victim to abuse within the system

Not sure if you know this but our mental health services sucks ass, after leaving you I had a delightful therapist that would text me telling to kill my self and would tell me you were right to abuse me.

But I got one thing from our relationship, I fine tuned my “four Fs” ...I no longer freeze or fight in the face of difficulty... I developed an ability to fawn.

Dead ends are no longer in my eyeline, I will metaphorically straight on walk through someone else’s house to get where I need to be, I will jump the fence, break the locks and out run any guard dog. I may fall down but I’m never out.

When I was diagnosed with multiple chronic illnesses and essentially lived in hospital for 3 years, even when I thought to end my life it was weighed out by the thought of “how do I get to a place we’re I can do even 5% of what I want? What do I have to change, manifest?”.

You see if you could only temporarily break me but not stop me then why the hell would I let my own mind and body do that? That ability to fawn came with an ability to find a middle path, to be diplomatic. That ability to fawn gave me the patience to understand medical text and use that to access the right care. ~ I am actually thinking of starting a medical degree just to prove I can ~ I am now 98lbs and healthy for my size and stature, I now have a home with a housing association who like me so much they have me a lifetime partner agreement, meaning I will never be homeless again. I have been clean 7 whole goddamn years and 2 months. I have the most beautiful empathic cat, 2 foster dogs and an incredibly patient partner, who has known me before you had ever entered my life. I am as healthy as someone in my position can be, I still struggle with the anorexic thoughts but I eat everyday of the fucking week now.

I am not “happy” as happy is an emotion and emotions are fleeting but I am content in living for the simple life I have fought ever so hard for. I am strong, and determined and constantly fucking working on making more for myself. I’m proud of myself.

All I have to say is get therapy. If you’re really sorry work on yourself enough to be able to apologise properly before you fuck my day up by rising your head again for this weakness. I can’t say I don’t have morbid curiosity, because that’s me all over, however I’m much more determined to keep all that I have work for mentally, emotionally, and physically safe. For that reason I would never in my right medicated mind talk it out with you, email you back or seek you out. I’m sorry, it is what it is.

You can not damage someone irreparably both mentally and physically and think “I’m sorry for being a cunt” even close to cuts it. You are mentally unbalanced, in a way not even I can relate to.

[greyias]

FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 17

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | Crossposted to AO3

As soon as he was inside the door of his apartment, Theron had the chip out of his pocket and inserted it into his datapad. The first file on it wasn’t any official SIS document at all but apparently a note, written especially for him:

So here I am, minding my own business, when this intel request comes across my desk from none other than your old buddy, Rian Darok. I pulled it, but then I asked myself, what does a SpecOps officer need with this information? From what I can tell, cracking down on cargo smuggling isn’t the highest of priorities for him and his team. I pulled a copy for you too, since you’re so interested in “oddities” right now. I don’t know what you think is going on, but you know this guy has clout right? And not just in SpecOps. Watch yourself. — JB

Theron tried not to roll his eyes as he paged to the next file on the chip. Jonas was a good man to have along on a mission, but sometimes he could get hung up on something. Apparently in this case it was the havoc that Rian Darok could cause for an unsuspecting SIS Agent. Which wouldn’t be a problem, because Theron was suspecting everything right now. Which was probably good for his survival chances in the short term, but would probably give him hypertension if he ever lived long enough to see old age.

He scanned over the pulled file, but as Jonas said it was… just odd.

"Known Smugglers: Inner Rim" was just what it said. A giant list of cargo smugglers that operated in the Inner Rim. And by giant, he meant several thousands names. It would take far too long for him to cross-reference every name by hand. He was going to need to get creative on this.

He sat down at the terminal in his apartment, and began to start typing. The programming required to cross-reference the names against what he knew about the Korriban and Tython ops was complex, and he had to be very careful to hide his trail in case it dinged anything classified. The SIS didn’t keep it’s data on the HoloNet, but it definitely had its own hooks into the system. If he needed to do a deeper search on any of the names of the list, he could do that manually, but he needed to narrow this down to something manageable, otherwise he could be chasing a dead lead for months.

The chronometer had already ticked well past midnight, and he was nearing the end of his coding efforts when his implants alerted him to a new message in his inbox. He finished his train of thought, then pulled away from the data terminal, feeling his muscles protest at the motion after being hunched into one position for so long. Scooping up his forgotten datapad, he opened up his inbox to see who had written.

To: Theron Shan From: Greyias Highwind Subject: Late Reply

I must apologize for the delayed reply. Our latest mission hit a slight snag, and I only now have had time to catch up on my correspondence. Barnaba is a very lovely travel spot, as long as you don’t mind the occasional internal spat between royal houses. Kira wants to buy a timeshare here. She says that it would be a fun vacation spot. I tried to remind her we don’t collect a salary (as you accurately pointed out), but Doc nixed the idea before I could, saying this visit gave him too much work already and doesn’t want any more gray hairs. He can be a bit vain at times but is probably right in this case.

It sounds like you have been keeping yourself busy as well, even if it was perhaps less exciting work. Did you ever find what you were looking for in all of that data? I don’t know if it helps, but in a letter about the ongoing reconstruction efforts at the temple, the Grand Master mentioned a missing Rakata artifact. I unfortunately didn’t have much time to spend in the archives during our initial reconstruction efforts, but I didn’t see any artifacts tucked under anyone’s arm while they were leaving. Perhaps it was extracted during the original raid? I must confess, if the Council was hiding a piece of Rakata technology, then they did not want it falling into the wrong hands. In my own experience it is rarely used for benevolent purposes.

If the artifact was included in the SIS’s reports, I wonder if it is mentioned there the exact nature of the device. I could enquire further with Master Satele regarding it, but I am afraid I am not very good at concealing the truth from her in matters such as these. It is probably best if I don’t attempt it unless you think it’s necessary.

I think I hear my self-appointed keeper returning. I must wrap this up before he confiscates this datapad as well. I will continue to wait to see if you discover anything considered “noteworthy”.

I have a feeling you will know exactly where to find me.

As he finished the letter, Theron couldn’t help the frown. A missing piece of Rakata tech definitely could have been among the missing items. He’d have to check into the official report, but it would take a few extra steps to keep his name from showing up on the logs since they’d closed out the investigation. Surely the Empire wouldn’t have conducted an entire raid in the heart of the Republic for just one artifact. Surely their resources would have been better directed elsewhere. The more he tried to fit the pieces of all of this together, the less this made sense. There was something else going on here, he just wasn’t connecting the right dots.

He glanced back at the data terminal, his back screaming in protest at the thought of returning to the hunched over position so soon. He began to perform a series of exercises to try and stretch out the kinks, carefully balancing the datapad so he could re-read the contents of the letter again as if it might magically answer any of the questions it raised. As he focused on the details to see if he missed anything regarding the artifact, the reason for the delay in reply started to prickle at him. The letter had definitely been written with far more reserve than the previous ones.

As he finally worked free the knot in his lower back, he pulled up the HoloNet and ran a search on news articles for the Tapani sector. He didn’t need to look far to find the buzz about a daring rescue of an entire orphanage from the nefarious plot of a rogue minor house trying to curry favor with the losing house in the Barnabas succession. They apparently took the building as a hideout concealing a hidden stash of weapons and had planted dentonite around the perimeter. All orphans had safely been pulled from the exploding building and while the article didn’t say there was going to be a statue erected in a certain Jedi’s honor, Theron half expected it to. He was already scrubbing a hand across his face by the time he got to the end. Beyond being possibly the most disgustingly cliched do-gooder he’d ever met, the woman was a giant flashing neon sign that attracted attention wherever she went. What the hell had he been thinking bringing her in on this? There was no way they were going to remain under the radar if she stopped what she was doing every five seconds to rescue kath pups and nexu kittens.

He opened up a new message, and stared at it for a few moments before he began writing out his reply:

To: Greyias Highwind From: Theron Shan Subject: Interesting

I’m sure the life of a Jedi Knight is very busy, especially one that seems to wind up on the top of the HoloNet News feed as often as you do. It’s understandable that you can’t always reply to every piece of mail you get right away. Although I do admit I was thinking I’d hear back sooner than a week. 

But your reply, even delayed, is appreciated. I hadn’t gotten far sifting through the data, but I’m going to double-check the report when I get in tomorrow to see if I can find the piece of tech you mentioned in the log. If the Council had it locked up, I doubt they were willing to share with the SIS the exact nature of the device. But hey, maybe we’ll get lucky and everyone will have been in a sharing mood. Hope springs eternal right?

Speaking of the Council, I think you’re right in that we should probably not share anything with the Grand Master right now. All I have right now are threads and suspicions, but nothing concrete. We need to figure out what’s going on before anyone’s going to take us seriously. I’m getting there, but it’s slow going. I’ve gotten some leads on Darok, but they’re just… odd. He’s started requesting intel, like on the weaponization of the Iso-5 on Tython. That makes sense. My other lead is just confusing, and I’ve got no idea what it means. I was actually working on it when your message came. If anything comes from it, I’ll let you know.

Theron stared at the blinking cursor, trying decide if he should end it there, but something was still nagging at him. Rescued orphans aside, there was nothing in the report that indicated why it took her an entire week to check her inbox, seeing as that incident had occurred almost five days ago. It was none of his damn business and he didn’t care. He really didn’t. Not beyond keeping an eye on a potentially valuable asset for his operation. Still, it felt as if he didn’t quite have control over his fingers typing out the last portion of his reply.

Now, it’s not my business or anything, but in my line of work I’m used to reading between the lines. I couldn’t help but notice you mentioning everything but exactly what delayed your reply. If I do find something, are you going to be up to joining my investigation? Or do I need to write your medic for permission first? Hopefully you managed to hide that datapad from him successfully enough so you don’t have to smuggle another one just to check your mail.

I’ve got to finish running down this other lead before I call it a night. If I find anything new, I’ll be in touch. Try not to blow yourself up rescuing another orphanage in the meantime.