milk & honey

              Her smile made him smile for a second before he remembered she was his enemy. They were slated to be married, but that would be the extent of it. And also she had to take care of Garf – Bodhi had no other choice. “Because between the two of us, you’d be more likely to have poison given your profession.” He stuffed another appetizer in his mouth and frowned at her. Thankfully, a waiter walked by with another tray of champagne. He plucked a flute from it and turned to look at her. “For saying you don’t like me, you sure do want to spend a lot of time with me. Even after death? The only reason I know you’re not the witch is because she stole a princess and I’m clearly not one.” He chewed and then washed it down with a big gulp of champagne. “I’m hungry! Why aren’t you eating?” 

“Well sure, but then I know I’d be prime suspect number one if you ended up dying mysteriously and I’m not entirely sure I’d survive in jail very long.” She downed the last bit of her champagne, sighing in satisfaction as she drained the glass but choosing not to grab another for the time being. Instead, she kept the flute in hand, letting her finger trail along its rim absentmindedly and raising her brows at Bodhi’s response. “Hardly. Think of it more as a tendency to hold a serious grudge. Hey, who’s to say the witch doesn’t go both ways? Distinct possibility, there.” A shrug punctuated her thought and she merely snorted before responding to his question as sarcastically as ever. “Because I’d rather get my calories through alcohol, thanks. Plus, I’d rather have some semblance of having manners, and I don’t think shoveling food would do much to help that image much.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Oh wait.. I actually am not.” She turned and looked to the woman. “Because I clearly don’t give a shit about your opinion. So unless you want your dress covered in alcohol maybe instead you should fuck off.” She spat. 

A laugh, cold yet amused, escaped the blonde as she regarded the girl’s attempt at a thread, propping her chin in the palm of her hand. Perhaps the girl didn’t know her well enough, but it was going to take far more than a threat of throwing a drink to scare the blonde. “Aw, cute. Really, you’re almost convincing. Still, if you’re really looking to intimidate me, you’re going to have to work a little harder than that. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get the hell out of here anyways, so please, go right ahead and toss that drink. Make my day.”

Raven didn’t even bother looking at the female. “Lucky for me I am a lightweight. It won’t take much for me to get to that point.” She said quietly and continued to drink what she ordered.

The fact that the girl didn’t even look her direction was insulting enough as it was, and it was all Sabrina could do nothing hold back the indignant scoff that escaped her lips as a result. “Oh, joy. Another delicate flower who can’t hold their liquor. What a surprise.” Her drawl was sarcastic and dry, expression deadpan, and it was clear that she was none too impressed by the girl’s standoffish demeanor. “I thought this party would be entertaining at the very least, but clearly not.”

               Bodhi was surprised when Sabrina appeared without walking backwards down the stairs in a backbend. He knew deep down that she was possessed by some sort of demon. He swore he saw her eyes change in her office a few days ago. A bright red with black pupils. He shuddered at the memory. Not wanting to stir the pot, he held out his champagne to her. He shoved the food into his mouth as he looked her up and down. Grey was right, she was beautiful. But at what fucking cost? He swore she was drunk or well on his way. He was well versed in spotting someone getting ready to fall into drunk territory. She was being nice… nicer than usual anyway. Which might not seem like a lot, but it put Bodhi at ease. “I was literally drinking from the glass. I know death seems better than marrying you, but I’m not going to spoil the good champagne with poison. For the record, you can’t beat my ass if you’re dead. Can you act normal for one night?” 

Sabrina grinned victoriously as she gripped the glass a fraction tighter in her hands, clearly proud of her apparent accomplishment in getting his drink without any retaliation. If she were more sober, she assumed that this would probably be a far different scene, probably with more insults and yelling based on prior experience. Perhaps she just wasn’t in the mood to argue or perhaps the alcohol was dampening the part of her that wanted to make everyone miserable right along with her, but either way the mood was far different than what it had been just days prior. “How am I supposed to know that you didn’t manage to slip something in? Christ, and you thought I was the one that couldn’t take a joke...” Still, she was seemingly satisfied with his answer seeing that she punctuated her statement with a long sip from the glass. “Yeah, well my ghost would probably haunt you for the rest of your life, at the very least. I can be pretty fucking persistent if I really want to, you know. You want me to act normal? Weren’t you the one just hoarding appetizers like the Great Famine’s coming for a round two?”

the first thing raven did when she walked into the ballroom was go to the bar. she wasn’t excited, nor was she ready to meet the person they matched for her. all she wanted to do was get drunk and leave right after. she smiled at the person behind the bar and sighed. “malibu and coke please with lime.” she said softly and waited for him to make her drink. 

Sabrina raised a lazy brow at the girl who’d sauntered up to the bar, none too interested in what she had to say in particular but not exactly willing to commit herself to completely ignoring her surroundings either. She all but scoffed at the girl’s drink order, however, unable to hold back her famous snark once something had set her off. “You’re going to need a lot more than that if you’re trying to get wasted, sweetiepie.” Her tone was sharp and unpleasant, perhaps even patronizing towards the end as she regarded her with a disinterested glance. “You’ve got to go for the hard stuff. Now that’s what’s going to help you forget tonight ever happened.”

           Plucking another flute of champagne from the doll like waiter, Bodhi took a huge gulp before looking around. He wasn’t sure that the staff were even human. Maybe they were made of clay and enchanted by the petty witch. Sabrina was somewhere in the crowd – maybe sucking life from fellow patrons to sustain her life source. It didn’t matter to him. After a few more glasses of the good champagne, he might get down on one knee and propose. Pushing his way through the crowd, he made it to a waiter who had food. He immediately shoved one appetizer into his mouth and grabbed another his his free hand. Turning to the person closest to him, he flushed and held out the offending item. “You want?”

What had started as one glass of champagne quickly became two, and while Sabrina had never really considered herself to be much of a lush, she was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol she’d been consuming since she’d arrived that evening. Needless to say, the night wasn’t going well. For starters, she was fairly sure that Bodhi was stashing a rosary in preparation to exorcise her at any moment (a sight that she admittedly would have been quite amused to see) and if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d been all too averse to going to any fancy party regardless of who she came with. To put it simply, she was drinking to forget how miserable she was... but it had backfired. 

She’d been stumbling her way through the throngs of people searching for water - or rather, anything that would keep the floor from feeling as if it were swaying beneath her very feet - when another drink was thrust right in front of her. A gift from the gods was what it was, she’d concluded, until her eyes traveled up the arm of whoever had offered it to her and landed directly on none other than her date. Almost immediately, she was laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it because god, suddenly everything seemed funny when there was alcohol coursing through her veins. It was vaguely reminiscent of her early college days, back when her only concerns were frat parties and beer bongs. Still, she somehow managed to take a deep breath, hoping to keep some sort of composure in front of her dreaded husband-to-be. “Well, since you offered so nicely.” She didn’t detect a slur, though the usual icy edge in her tone had melted ever so slightly with her inebriation as she snatched the flute from his outstretched hand. Blue eyes peered up at him from behind thick lashes, a quizzical expression crossing over her features momentarily with a quirk of her brow as she continued, “You’re not trying to poison me, are you? ‘Cause if you are, I can and will beat your ass into next century.”

          When the door was yanked open, he saw his future flash before his eyes. Screaming matches and slammed doors followed by more of the same. His clothes thrown on the front lawn or maybe set on fire. Probably both given Sabrina’s demeanor. “It’s a saying, you lunatic. I wasn’t actually calling you honey. I haven’t seen your birth certificate, but I’m sure it says AntiChrist in the name line.” He took a step back to allow her to look him over. He was also slight scared she might rear back and hit him. But if he stayed safely in the hallway, Patricia wouldn’t allow the violence to get out of hand. He hoped. “I only asked to see my future wife and she let me back. Leave her out of this. We are to get married and I doubt you’d respond to a text message.”

He reached into his back pocket and brought out his phone. On it was a hasty picture he’d taken of the masquerade invitation. “Did you get one of these? Do you receive mail? Do they deliver to the cave you probably live in?” 

“Still as charming as usual.” She half-laughed bitterly at his response, though there was no humor behind it whatsoever. Nothing about this was funny as far as she was concerned, not when she knew that there was only one way that their relationship could go: blow-out fights and nights spent sleeping on a makeshift bed on the couch. “Sure does - didn’t you know that’s practically my middle name at this point? Just like yours is Dipshit, right? Or was it Dumbass? They’re basically interchangeable at this point, so it’s hard for me to keep it straight.” That was enough to elicit a satisfied smirk from her, albeit slight, though it quickly fell as he brought up the dreaded ‘M’ word. “Would you stop calling me that? People are going to start to think I actually like having to associate with you, which would be a shame. Either way, work is my place. Mine. Which, unfortunately for you, means you’re not welcome within a mile radius unless Garfield’s tagging along.”

Blue eyes narrowed slightly as she peered at the picture on his phone. Yeah, of course she’d gotten it... and promptly tossed it in the trash. While it was more symbolic than anything, it had still felt way too good to toss it in some form of rebellion. “Ha. Funny. Did you spend all night coming up with that one?” With a scoff, she stepped back, arms tightly crossed across her chest. “But yes, I got one. There, question answered. You done?”

          Her brain was more foggy than usual for not recognizing her best friend with a glance. Laughter bubbled up as she handed her card to the cashier before turning back to Sab. She leaned forward and kissed her cheek before settling back down. “You’re known of those things. And if you are, then I have lots of questions. First of which is: where the fuck is my best friend? You only want black coffee? What’s wrong? Did a dog shit on you again?” She took her card back and dragged her best front to the opposite end of the counter to wait for their order. “Are you okay?”

Grace was one of the few people in Sabrina’s life that she could actually say she was fond of. Perhaps it was because they were so similar, but then again, she’d always mused that they were practically sisters separated at birth by this point. “Oh, fuck off.” Her words were harsh, but her laughter was enough to prove that she was more than happy to see her best friend as she pecked the girl’s cheek in return before following her along the counter. “I wish it was dog shit,” she mused bitterly, rolling her eyes as she continued, “But honestly? This whole marriage season bullshit is giving me one hell of a headache. Whoever thought that giving me of all people some dick-for-brains as a husband is clearly fucked in the head. Please just tell me that you’re having a better go at this than I am.”

@sabmurphys

           A ball. A masquerade fucking ball. The invitation was thrown somewhere on his kitchen counter. Garfield, his orange tabby, had probably claimed it as a part of his nest. Anything for the little fucker to be comfortable. The week only got better as it progressed. The mark – itchy and still somewhat raw on his wrist. The council took it’s time sorting out who each person was going to marry, but then the envelope came. His vet – Garfield’s vet. A woman who had rectally taken his cat’s temperature. The tabby didn’t get upset by most things, but Bodhi swore he saw the pain in his eyes after their first appointment. Sabrina Murphy, vet and future wife. Their first meeting hadn’t gone well and that was putting it mildly. It was clear there was tension between them. She was prone to judgement and didn’t approve of his profession. He couldn’t stand her entire demeanor. But they had both left without killing the other and he thought it was progress. 

But then the invitation arrived. It didn’t say they had to go together, but it would be better if they did. Somehow, he found himself outside of the vet office with his hands sweating as if he was an extra for 8 Mile. Pushing open the front door, the little bell jingled and he almost reached up to rip it from it’s perch. He didn’t need to be announced like he was a fucking elf. Making his way towards the receptionist who seemed to light up when he came in with Garfield, he leaned over with a grin. “Hello. I hope you’re well today. Do you think I could pop back and speak to my future wife?” It didn’t take much convincing before she was allowing him into the back and pointing towards Sabrina’s office. 

Stealing himself, he took in a deep breath before knocking on her door. “Honey, I’m home.” He let it come out in a singsong voice and he immediately hated the choice. 

Sabrina had long ago decided that she was simply not the type to marry. There’d been a time long ago, back when she was younger and more idealistic about the world, that she’d thought she was ready to commit herself to one person for the rest of her life. Seeing how that had quickly gone from something she’d realized wasn’t what she wanted or needed was enough to turn her off of the idea of commitment altogether. Of course, now that she’d gotten to a space of being more than happy to stay single, the damned witch had to come along and fucked up every single one of those plans. She felt furious before even knowing who it was, and upon the realization that it was the owner of the laziest orange tabby she’d ever seen in her life was enough to leave her fuming for days. It only got worse when they’d finally met for the first time. Something about Bodhi had just hit her the wrong way, from something as simple as his job to his whole demeanor. Needless to say, this marriage was something she dreaded. At the end of the day, however, it was something that she had no choice in, and at least part of her knew that she’d have to dig deep to find some redeemable quality about her future husband before things got really nasty.

Burying herself in her work had been a welcome distraction, and since the mark had appeared on her arm, ugly and irritated, she’d seemed to become more of a workaholic than ever. It hadn’t helped her attitude much either, and her aggressively friendly receptionist surely didn’t help much. It had, in fact, proven to be quite the detriment in this case judging by the knock on her door followed by the mockingly sing-song tone from none other than her fiancée. The word was enough to send a shock of rage up her spine.

Grumpy grumblings about how apparently the phrase ‘no interruptions’ clearly hadn’t made enough sense spilled from her lips as she stalked towards the door. It was promptly flung open, and she was met with the vision of none other than Bodhi, that smug bastard. “Listen,” she started, tone icy, “I don’t know who you’re calling honey, but last I checked, that’s not on my birth certificate, Roman.” Her eyes did a pass-over on him, sizing him up as she leaned against the frame of her door. “I’m not even going to ask what you said to get her to let you back here. You sure as hell better have something important to tell me.”

( amber heard, 34, she/her ) — Dearest SABRINA MURPHY, as a bearer of the mark, the Inner Order has the pleasure to inform you are to wed BODHI ROMAN. You are IMPULSIVE and OPINIONATED, but so RESOURCEFUL and ALTRUISTIC, I’m sure you will get along just fine. Working as VETERINARIAN, we’ve heard that you like ROUGH SEX and SPANKING, but dislike DD/LG and WATERSPORTS.

Hi guys!! My name is Jo and this is my angry little bean, Sabrina! I’m very open to plots with her, though I also have to admit that I’m terrible at writing out pre-written connections and work much better building them organically. Anyways, I’ve posted some major plot points to know about her under the cut.