#xkilljxy

Nick made a point to trust one person and one person only: himself.

He wasn't sure when Imogen had changed that. She was a filthy little blood traitor and he hated her, he hated her.

Except that he hadn't hated her for months now. Maybe longer if he really looked at it which was something he made a point to avoid.

This could get him offed and he wouldn't care because at least he'd die happy. She made him happy.

"Imm, love," the place he sometimes shared with her was well-lit and usually he could tell when she'd shown up before him. Keyword: usually. "You home?"

“I have a very important question for you. Well, two questions. Well, maybe three. At the most five. I think. Not all at once, though.”

Hana sat on the floor of the shop, tucked in a corner. They’d not been here long, really. "Do you ever wish we could start over? The pair of us?"

“So, I’m thinking of selling my place in London. Someone’s got to watch the sheep while you’re away, after all.”

“Did Scratch really not get out in time?” Laser asked, feet swinging. They had perched themselves on one of the windowsills. Lase made a point of always knowing exactly where all the girls lived (and the other PAM members, too) and how to get in and out of all of them. “Is he okay, because I don’t really want to go see him if he’s really wounded. I’ll probably get upset and cry, and that would really go against my super cool persona.”

Chaos Quintet

Why all the dragonpox survivor support groups met in Knockturn was beyond Rose. The place gave her the creeps. Though not nearly as much as the man that had been lurking around outside them, eyeing them all like bugs to dissect. The counselor recommended they not wear any make-up or charm-work to these meetings, and so all of her pox scars were on full display. She felt like a target, or a beacon.

“What’s the matter with you?” She asked, sounding much braver than she felt. “Get your kicks off of other people’s trauma, or something?” 

It was weird that her sister had a real, adult person relationship with someone. Not like Edith could really talk in this situation since she hadn’t exactly moved out of Nimue’s cottage, but that didn’t make it any less weird. When had they both grown up and why hadn’t she noticed? 

“Sister dearest!” Edith called as she knocked. Technically she had a key. Even more technically, she did not want to risk seeing Frank naked. Not even a little bit. Gross. “I brought snacks and trashy magazines, we’re hanging out!”