#:0 i can't stop looking at his coat. it's so pretty. i really love how it turned out. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beerecordings · 3 months

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Look we all know Mr. Higgins is the real star of the new comics. Here is a fic about him adopting Marvin, all while Marvin finds himself struggling desperately against the memory control of the Magic Circle. Written after Altrverse #0, extrapolations are probably not canon to anything. Thanks for reading, let me know if you enjoy!

The excitement of a new book always fills him with verve enough to keep him up late into the night. His shop is warm, a green fire burning without wood or fuel along the back wall, and his scalp tingles with every new sigil passing through his vision.

The fact that it's an extremely illegal book to own only makes it more exciting for Marvin.

He's almost laid out over the counter, bent low over the pages, his free hand wrapped around a third mug of hot mint tea – got to have something to go with the book, after all – when the door to the shop jingles. He'd meant to lock up for the night, but he hadn't managed to tear himself away. “Come in!” he calls distractedly, pressing his hand over a complex sigil shaped like a pair of antlers.

No footsteps sound. Marvin looks up quickly, his mind conjuring images of the twins in full regalia in his doorway, ready to strip him of his power for the transgression of his black magic book, but no one's there.

He can't decide if that's worse or better.

“Hello?” he calls, voice sharpening. He can handle most magicians, and certainly any civilians. But if this is the Magic Circle trying games with him, he won't be playing. “Reveal yourself.”

Something shifts by the bookshelf closest to the door. Marvin gets to his feet, book forgotten, and fixes his mask back over his face. He'll address this head on. He summons a spell and transports the four feet to be on the other side of his bookshelf, purple light gleaming for a second in his wake, alighting on his hand markings.

“Meow?” says a little grey and white cat.

Marvin stops short, mouth falling open in delight. The tension rushes out of him so fast his face feels cold. He claps his hands together and falls to his knees. “Hello, there, darling, aren't you a pretty sight? I wouldn't have thought a cat could get through that door, or you wouldn't have set me so on alert, you know! You must have really wanted in.”

He glances up at the door. Really, how did a cat push through that? The cat mewls at him again.

“Oh, come here, poor thing.”

He scratches his fingers against the carpet. The cat looks at him with interest, sitting down beside his shelves. It has remarkably clear eyes, blinking languidly at him, tail flicking. It's so calm Marvin just approaches it, putting a hand on its head and stroking down its grey back. It closes its eyes and purrs minutely, completely unhurried.

“Yes, there's a good little creature,” Marvin laughs. He pulls his hand away at a tacky sensation and finds his palm coated in dirt and dust. He sits petting the cat for several minutes, until the creature flops onto its side and exposes its belly to him. It's a male cat, purring loudly at him now, those cute paws folded in the air. Marvin laughs.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. But I can't have you tearing up the carpet or peeing on my books, kitten. Tell you what, I'll get you something to eat from upstairs and set it outside for you. Okay? Be right back.”

He heads upstairs to his flat and gets into the fridge, setting several strips of deli meat onto a plate for the cat. Maybe he'll take some pictures of the little guy as he eats. It would be nice to have a cat coming around every now and then. He had cats as a kid, in his family home, before he had to... well, before everything that happened. He loved them enough to shape his mask after them, but he's never had the free time for a pet. At this point, he's not even sure he has the safety for a pet. If the Circle finds out...

Well. Seeing as he himself isn't even aware of what he's doing half the time, he's hoping the chances of being discovered are slim.

Marvin sighs and heads back downstairs, clicking his tongue at the cat as he walks to the door and opens it. He sets the dish on the ground, but the cat hasn't moved, just looking at him from the carpet inside.

“Oh, you're comfy there, are you?” Marvin chuckles. “I understand. But you better have something to eat. Come here, then.”

The cat doesn't get up. Marvin sighs again, stepping over to him. “Sorry, my darling, but you can't stay in here.”

He leans down to pick the cat up. He doesn't struggle at all – well-behaved little thing – but as Marvin sets a foot outside, he sees a droplet of dark grey appear on the pavement beside it.

He frowns and looks up. A drop of water strikes his cheek.

“Really, right now?”

He's used to UK rain, but it's only a moment or two later that a full torrential downpour is pushing him back inside the shop. He curses and grabs the deli meat, pulling the dish inside. The cat leans down and delicately begins eating.

“Oh, lucky bugger,” Marvin says, shaking his head. “You're sure you're not a magic spy cat or something? A man disguised as a cat to trick me?”

The cat finishes the turkey and leans down to begin licking his anus.

“Alright, yeah, not a spy.”

Marvin looks out at the rain, coming down aggressively onto the awning and beating a cold rhythm through the shop. The cat polishes himself up politely at Marvin's feet. Poor dirty thing. Maybe he has an owner who's looking for him.

“Alright, then,” Marvin says, leaning down to pick the cat up once more. “You can stay just for tonight, while I figure out what to do with you.”

The cat pushes its head into his chin and purrs.

"Why do you have this? Where did you get it?"

"Would you just look?"

Sunday chooses to look up at him instead, something between astonishment and dismay arguing on his face. "Marvin..."

Marvin sighs out and taps the front of the book. "I have some contacts from my old mentor. They found this for me."

"Marvin, Ramesses wasn't exactly the kind of magician the Circle would approve of."

"You think I don't know that?"

Sunday sighs and rubs at the ear of his mask - a pretty cute form of self-soothing, really. After a moment, he flicks open the pages of the book.

"How's your memory today?" Marvin asks, trying not to sound too strained.

"What do you mean, my memory?"

"Do you remember that the Circle has been wiping things from our heads?" Marvin insists, clutching at the table.

Sunday's eyes flicker. "Right. That's... why we're looking at things like this."

"Right," Marvin agrees, relieved. "That's why we need help from magicians like Ramesses. Ones who know what's really going on. We need to find a way to keep them out of our heads."

It's dangerous stuff, but he and Sunday have had that discussion. Marvin has to trust that he's going to stay on board even as both of their memories ebb and flow. He desperately needs someone to help him remember. It's infuriating, knowing that the people who are supposed to be helping magicians are just taking control of them instead. Marvin won't be their puppet.

"This is the spell you're looking at?" asks Sunday.

"Yes. To protect someone from mind magic."

"You can't cast that alone."

"Help me, then!"

"We can't cast this alone," Sunday corrects. "You would need a huge group or an artifact."

"I have some magical artifacts."

"Not ones with enough power."

"Sunday, please."

"Marvin." His friend looks up at him sharply. "I know how deep we are in over our heads, but that's why we must be careful. You don't even know if this spell will work. It could harm you, change you, burn you out. Start with some of the smaller ones... look, this can imbue an object with the magic to see things for you. A looking glass of its own. And I'm sure you've been scrying."

Marvin grits his teeth. Yes, he's been scrying. All he sees is black wisps and red eyes through the darkness. Something is coming, and he can't stop it without knowing his mind is secure. He needs to expel the twins from the Magic Circle, needs to have a group of magicians he can trust, needs to -

"Marvin," says Sunday again. "You're working yourself up."

His sigils are glowing. He turns away bitterly, clutching his hands into fists.

"We're going to figure it out," Sunday says wearily. "You have to believe that. But you can't hurt yourself."

He sets the book down. "I need to get going. Not all of us get to run our own bookstores. I'll text you tomorrow after work, okay?"

"Fine," says Marvin. "Fine."

"Whoa, wait, is this yours?"

Marvin looks over to see the stray cat coming out of his bedroom, sitting down beside Sunday to regard him warily. It meows at him loudly enough that Sunday chuckles.

"No, I just took him in for a couple nights," Marvin sighs. "Trying to find his owner."

"And if he doesn't have one?"

"I don't know." He really doesn't. The cat's super cute, but Marvin has a lot going on. "I don't think I've got time for a cat. I get a little focused on one thing at a time."

Sunday gives him a look of disbelief. "A little?"

"Oh, shut it."

Sunday rubs the cat's head for a moment before standing. "We'll figure this out," he repeats. "Don't lose hope."

"I need you to give me some," Marvin says wearily.

Sunday touches his shoulder and grins at him, just as tired, but there's nothing more he can say. Once he's gone, Marvin sinks onto the couch, sighing deep. The cat jumps up beside him.

"You want to switch places?" Marvin asks, reaching out to scratch his chin. "I'll sleep and eat all day and you can go back to a place where you know you'll be brainwashed every time they call for you. You don't know how sick it makes me... but then, of course, I forget, and I'm theirs again."

He almost sinks in on himself, then, just wanting to melt into the couch. But the cat gets into his lap and meows at him, and the stink of his breath makes him laugh and pull back, and he sits up and pets him for a while instead of crumpling into his own dismay.

“Well, he's not got fleas or ticks or anything.”

The vet runs her hands professionally over the disgruntled cat, looking through his fur and petting his head. He turns to Marvin like he's expecting him to come help, and Marvin stifles a laugh. He's an expressive cat, really. Must have been good at begging for scraps.

“Really, none?”

“No," says the vet. "Why, did you see some?”

“No, it's just, I figured a stray cat would have one. You sure he's not chipped either?”

“No chip,” the vet confirms, running her hands over the cat. “How long have you had him?”

“Five days now. I called the animal shelter and posted online in case anyone is looking for him.”

“You can check our board in case someone's posted that he's lost.”

“Alright, will do.”

“But he's neutered and all, so you don't have to worry about that.”

“Good,” says Marvin emphatically. “I've never met such a headstrong cat. I don't think he'd let anybody get down there with scissors.”

“Oh, but he's such a well-mannered little boy,” coos the vet, petting the cat's head. The cat purrs.

“Yeah, now,” Marvin laughs. “But if you do something he doesn't like, he will let you know. I think he's capable of revenge.”

They have a laugh about it and the vet gets ready to give him some shots. When she gets out a syringe, the cat raises his butt like he's ready to bolt, but Marvin grabs his scruff sharply and leans down to chide him.

“Everybody has to get shots, Higgins,” he says. “You behave. You can't come home if you're not healthy.”

“Oh, no, you've named him,” smiles the vet.

Marvin puffs out a sigh. “I have, haven't I? I didn't mean to. But doesn't he look just like a little Mr. Higgins? Who's the prettiest boy?”

Mr. Higgins shoots him a disgruntled look, but he allows the vet to pin him down gently and give him his shots. Soon as they're done, he nips Marvin's thumb with his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” says Marvin, pushing him back into the carrier. “We'll check the board and then get you home.”

He's still not sure he wants a cat, but Higgins keeps trying to sleep in his bed, so Marvin figured he'd be responsible and get him checked over before they both get fleas. "You might not get to stick around forever," he tells the cat. "But I'll take care of you while you do."

But as he gets out to the reception of the vet's clinic, looking at their board of announcements and missing pet posters, he realizes he doesn't mind having the cat around. And this is how people get cats, right? They just take one in for a night, and then the cat adopts you. It's not like there's much going on for him right now, anyone. Things are good at the shop and with the Magic Circle. Everything's -

Higgins lets out a meow so loud other people turn to look at him, and so does Marvin, surprised. He's reminded of Higgins meowing at Sunday, who was over at his place to - to what?

To look at that black magic book...

Which he got because... because... why? Why is he looking at magic like that?

Higgins meows again, a little strangled. Marvin looks into his big, languid cat's eyes. Because...

The Circle is fucking with his head.

The realization hits him like a baseball in the chest, but even as it does, he knows this isn't the first time he's realized it. They keep making him forget - forget - forget.

He's a fucking puppet.

Marvin pushes himself out of the vet's office, vision blurry with frustrated tears.

"It keeps happening," he says to Higgins, voice tight. "I can't make them stop."

Higgins looks up at him from his carrier. The cat's quiet now, not struggling or meowing. Just looking at him.

"Yeah, you might not want me for an owner," sighs Marvin. "Fucked up head and a fucked up mess I can't seem to get myself out of."

Higgins lets out one little meow. Okay. That's pretty cute too. Marvin tries to get over himself. The self-pity won't help. Maybe, when he gets home, he can focus on getting Higgins a treat instead, since he was such a little gentleman at the vet.

Knowing that Sunday is right about the spell he wants to try doesn't it make it any easier to resist.

In fact, he thinks it makes it harder. Who is Sunday to tell Marvin what he's capable of?

He's always had that proud streak, and he knows it. Wanting to be the best at everything has served Marvin well in some parts of his life, but he's also been called cocky, overzealous, and, on one occasion, "basically a rat going to town on a Cheeto when it comes to magic," and all for good reason.

Higgins has hopped up on the kitchen counter, sitting beside the black magic book. Everytime Marvin looks over at it, he meows pointedly. If he didn't know better, he'd say the little miscreant was trying to warn him away too.

"It's just a spell," Marvin tells him, pacing around his living room. "I've never died trying stupid spells before. And I have tried some damn powerful spells."

He's good at powerful spells. He's a powerful fucking sorceror. It's why he was picked for this, mentored so intensely, sculpted to be better, better, better. The Magic Circle has its rules, but it should never have become a means to control him or restrain him. They can't take his own mind for him. He won't allow it!

"No one else is doing anything about it," he says to Higgins. "Sunday's the only one who's been able to hear me out and not forget everything the very next day. And even him, I have to remind again and again, and he has to remind me."

Higgins says "mrrp."

"Well, it's not like I can just leave the Magic Circle! All magical authority comes from them, and the twins - well. I have a lot to learn from the twins. Things the outsiders will never have access to. No, I need to be the one to take this all down from the inside. I'll cleanse it with fire if I have to! Or else - or else what will happen? We'll all be their slaves forever."

No. No. He won't be their tool. He grabs the black book. Higgins yowls.

"There is food for you in your bowl," Marvin chides him, heading towards the stairs. "Stay up here!"

Higgins tries to follow him down to the shop, and Marvin has to push him away with his foot, closing the door on him. Higgins makes a noise that can't be anything other than annoyed.

"Needy thing," Marvin chides, heading down the stairs, but it's soon gone from his mind. He's really going to try a new spell, one that might exorcise the twins's control over him. There's no rush like this, he loves it. New books, new spells, new magic. This is what he was born and trained for.

"Sunday doesn't know what I can do," Marvin says, putting his book down on his desk. This time, he makes sure the door to the shop is locked. "And neither do the fucking twins."

Mensprotego, not the original name of the spell, to be sure. It's Romanian in origin and the name is just some Latin combination of phrases given to it to lend it a feeling of power. But Marvin knows the real power of it as he traces the words over the spell. He draws his sigils with precision - he should have known when he was practicing the unfamiliar ones that he would always end up trying this alone - and sticks a mandrake leaf against the roof of his mouth, as the spell instructs. For extra energy, he'll use Ramesses's old staff.

It's good to grip it in his hands again. Even after all this time, he still thinks he can feel his mentor with him every time he holds it. Sometimes, he even gets the nostalgic smell of fire and the Vaseline he would smear over his scarring.

"Help me once again," he asks, pulling the staff over to his counter.

The power rushes up over him like a wave of water as he starts to speak. It's a strange sort of spell, the way it coasts over him, like it's sending sparks into him, a mini electrification that keeps repeating across his body - and keeps getting stronger. He wets his lips and keeps going. He's more used to magic that makes you feel tired as you use too much, but this! This is invigorating. His heart starts to pound. He can feel it against his chest. The electricity feeling makes him cramp, his fingers squeezing at the staff, and then his tongue sticks to his mouth. Wow. It kind of makes it hard to move. Kind of hurts.

Another wave of it grips him, and he pauses, breathing out and giving himself the chance to stop.

But then what will happen? Nothing. Things will keep going as they are. He can't take it. He has to keep going. To keep trying something new.

"I will not be yours," he whispers, and, clearing his throat, speaks the last words of the spell.

Everything explodes with light, blinding him, and a hot, raw pain bursts across him, his whole body lit up with purple markings, his eyes aglow, though he cannot see through them. He gasps and his body tries to crumple, but another wave of it crosses over him, shocking him stiff, unable to even collapse. Still, he clings to the spell, to the magic, vying hard for protection. If he can just get free, nothing else matters. He'll recover later, won't he? If he can just protect himself -

Something sharp clenches down on his ankle and he yells. The different kind of pain snaps him out of everything, and he drops Ramesses's staff, falling to his knees, still blind to all but his own light.

The electricity stops, but he thinks his brain might have short-circuited with it. He feels himself start to shake - maybe even to seize - he drops to the ground -

He loses consciousness to the sound of something scraping at his sigils with its claws.

Marvin wakes to the heavy smell of blood in his nose, and his fingers come up towards it instinctively, shaky and unsure.

"Ungh," he groans, shifting against the cold wood of his shop's backroom. He spits out a mandrake leaf, smacking his tongue at the odorous taste.

Marvin tries to push his glasses back into place, only to find the right temple snapped off its hinge, the glass cracked at the side. He pulls them off his face and sits up.

It makes his head rush painfully. Owch. There's blood all the way from his nose to his chin.

Okay, okay. Fine. He went way too far. Sunday's right, he's pushing too hard. Worse, he's not sure what would have happened if he didn't have that sharp pain.

He pulls his ankle up to himself as he sits down. Wait - that is distinctly a cat bite.

Setting his leg down, he lets his head thump back in surprise. Higgins saved him. Did he know he was in distress, or just get scared by the light and shaking?

"Higgs?" he calls. "You here?"

No little feet come padding towards him. He drags himself onto his feet - his poor head, owch - and stumbles towards the bathroom, washing his face off and swishing water around his mouth to clear out the copper taste.

"Maybe I don't tell Sunday about this," he mutters. He's made himself sick for certain. He won't feel well in the morning either. What's he going to do? Just -- with all of it, what is he doing?

The tears prick up against his will and he scowls at himself in the mirror, brushing at his eyes with the un-bloodied side of a washcloth. He strikes the flat of his palm against the bathroom counter and breathes. He can't let the twins or the council keep misusing their magic. He promised Ramesses he'd find a way.

But honestly, he just really wants to sleep for about twelve years or so. Feels like that would fix everything. Why does all this have to be on his shoulders alone?

"Not crying, we are not crying about this," he announces to himself, tossing the washcloth in the sink and stepping back into his living room. He crashes onto his couch and his head swims again from the movement. He covers his face from the light and breathes out slowly.

"Meow."

It's a very professional little meow, no wailing or pleading involved. Marvin pulls his arm away from his eyes and blinks towards the floor, where Higgins looks up at him carefully.

"Meow," he repeats.

"You want up here?" asks Marvin. He pats the little space beside his stomach. "You can come on."

Higgins doesn't move, peering up at him. He has eyes like a little man sometimes. Marvin prefers him playing, when his pupils get dilated huge and he just looks like the cute dumbass he's supposed to be.

"Yes, alright, I went too far," Marvin sighs. "What, are you angry? I'm sorry."

Higgins wraps his tail daintily around himself, blinking. Marvin sits up with a sigh and reaches for him.

Higgins say "mrrp" a little irritably, but he lets Marvin pull him onto his stomach and set him down there, stroking his head. After a few quiet minutes, Higgins settles and starts to purr gently.

"What a good boy," Marvin murmurs, scratching his ears as he lies back. "Did you know I needed help?"

Higgins looks at him with slitted eyes, rumbling.

"You got me out of that," Marvin continues. "You've never bit me like that before. Did I scare you? I'm sorry."

Higgins gets up slightly and Marvin mourns the loss of the warmth. But his cat doesn't hop off the couch. He just clambers higher up Marvin and pushes his soft head into his neck.

Marvin's face creases and the tears burn his eyes again. He blinks rapidly and wraps his arms around the hot little body of his cat.

"There's my good boy," Marvin rasps, holding him close. "My hero, aren't you? What a good cat."

He hugs Higgins close to him, closing his eyes, and for several minutes interrupted only by steady purring, he does cry. Maybe it's okay. No one's here to see him, and he'll feel better afterwards. Higgins licks the salt from his beard.

"Thank you, lovey," Marvin purrs back to him, scratching his back. "I know someone's got my back, don't I?"

Higgins meows loudly at him and Marvin laughs, wiping his face.

"Yuck, cat breath. You must be hungry. I'll fill your bowl, okay? And I better get something for me, too. Maybe a treat tonight. You think there are delivery places open twenty-four seven?"

Apparently it's not abnormal for someone to want pad see-ew at two in the morning, because his food comes less than fifteen minutes later. It hurts his head to go down the stairs, but it's euphoric to crash on his couch with several hot boxes of takeout arrayed on his coffee table. He puts on a Ghibli flick and spaces out hard, kept in the moment just by the sweet noodles and broccoli, the flashing colors of a movie he's seen a hundred times, and his cat, who jumps right back onto his lap and tries to get his head into the takeout box. Marvin lets him have a little too much chicken, but he's such a good boy, he deserves it. It's nice, really. It's nice to have this cat, purring on his chest as he sinks towards a deep sleep.

He thinks Higgins is asleep too.

Marvin wakes up feeling sick.

"Oh, my darling," he groans, feeling Higgins move as he does. "What did I do last night?"

He sits up slowly, glancing around his living room. He got take-out? He's usually so strict about eating at home. Did he drink?

"Well, I must have," he breathes, standing. He goes to his kitchen, but there's nothing out, no empty bottles or discarded lids. There's nothing in the trash out of the ordinary either. He didn't go out, right? He checks his phone, but he hasn't talked to anyone since yesterday. He wasn't out with friends, and he's sure he had no one over.

He's still trying to figure out what happened as he heads towards the bathroom, but the bloody washcloth in the sink stops him short. Marvin shakes his head, bewildered, and a little worried too, now. What is going on?

Higgins meows at him. He glances down at his cat. Higgins moves between his legs and then, apropos of nothing, puts his little teeth in Marvin's heel.

"Ow! Higgins! You - you bit me..."

He was trying that spell last night. He made himself sick with overuse. Higgins bit his ankle.

"Oh, oh," he whimpers, trying not to spiral. "They have such a grip on my memory I even forgot my own endeavors. They're in my house. In my head. I can't... I can't, I..."

He sinks down to his knees, shaking. His fingers press against the cold tile floor, and he sucks in shaking breaths, the fury and the terror passing over and through him like a great wave of heat.

"No more," he snarls, striking his hand against the floor. "No more of this. I will remember anything they take from me. Again and again, as much as I lose, I will get it back no matter what. I'll remember. And then I'll fight."

He turns his head and presses his hand against his cat's head. Higgins looks up at him with those sharp eyes, his fur soft against the palm of his hand.

"And you're going to help me, aren't you, my darling?"

He really does think that he sees that cat nod in that moment. The oddest part is, it doesn't even really surprise him.

"Right, then," Marvin breathes, his panic clearing. "Right. Back on your feet, Marvin, and no more sulking. Anyway, you got to get the cat fed."

Higgins' eyes dilate and his tail stands straight up. Marvin finds himself laughing despite everything.

"Okay, okay. One thing at a time."

He kisses his cat on the head, and goes to get him his breakfast. The rest will come - and he'll be ready.

#altrverse #higgins the cat #marvin the magnificent #jacksepticeye

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classy-mc · 5 years

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His little Detective. Chapter 1 - A new case

Hello to whoever finds this story!

It's my first time writing and publishing a story like this, but I've been itching to put my own ( though not so original) ideas and writing out for others to ( hopefully) enjoy. So I hope you enjoy.

Thoughts and criticism is good so I would love to hear them. Thank you!

The streets were as busy as always, full of all sorts of people. Business men hurrying home from work, couples going out for a date night, groups of friends going to bars to get the casual glass of whiskey or wine, or people who just wanted to go out for a stroll.

Nari was heading back home, her heels clicking with each step she took on the sidewalk. The woman didn't stand out too much. Short black hair, focused yet sharp grey eyes, her clothes classy and sharp as well. She was going home, her thoughts in an excited knot.

It's been months since she got her hands on such a good case and to celebrate - she also managed to get her hands on a few bottles of her favorite wine. It would help her think. Nari wasn't a simple woman - she was a detective. A pretty popular one at that. It was only a matter of time till she got her hands on this particular case.

She approached her apartment complex and headed up straight to the 3rd floor. She know she would have to move soon - the complex was starting to get a little too crowded for her liking. Pushing that thought aside she stopped at her door, pulling out her keys and letting herself inside.

Nari closed the door, locking it as per usual. She shrugged off her coat and hung it onto the chair closest to her before she waltzed over to the kitchen. Why? To get her wine glass after all.

After rewarding herself with a glass of wine, she settled down on her couch and pulled out the case. She opened it and smirked lightly.

" Those idiots gave the case an interesting name for once? It must be really special then "

Mr. M

That's what they called it. The woman scanned her eyes through the evidence present in the case. She had to admit - whoever was behind these crimes was a mastermind. From breaking into banks like it was nothing to getting rid of tricky criminals in the city and leaving notes to tease the police officers on how incompetent they were. Nova agreed. Those idiots couldn't even get the simplest of cases solved without some help from her side.

She lifted her glass of wine to her lips, getting a taste of the fine liquid. So far she was content with the evidence and case. The suspects already were disappointing. Nari rolled her eyes and threw the case elegantly onto the coffee table in front of her.

" Do they really think those men could be behind such brilliant crimes? Oh please, those boys can't even tie their own shoelaces " She laughed to herself, finishing her glass.

Nari leaned back onto the couch, thinking. She had a lot of evidence so it would help get a few worthy suspects.

Not today though. While she got a case, she also had a new headache - another reason for the wine. Being a detective - that was her side job, she didn't even wish to call it that. Her real job? Writing. While she wasn't a worldwide known writer - she was known well in their city.

Detective novels, thriller type novels - that was her specialty. As skilled as Nari was, she could only write about the things she knew well or, in one way or another, experienced them.

The memory from a couple of days came to mind. An email from a fan - asking for a romance novel.

'How in the world will I write something like that?! ' The woman thought. She never knew much about it, nor did she care. For all her 24 years of living - she never got attached to anyone. She didn't want to disappoint her fans so she replied with a simple ' I'll think about it's a mistake. That was a mistake.

With a sigh, she refilled her glass, emptying it almost immediately. She would get through this. She always did after all.

Nari checked the time. Almost 0:30 am. A reasonable time to slip into bed. She stood up, leaving the case on the coffee table before taking her glass and half finished bottle of wine back to its place. For safekeeping as she would like to say. After taking care of that she did her usual routine.

By the time she slipped into bed, it was well past 1 am. No big deal. The woman smirked to herself, leaving a silent threat in her mind to the criminal she would catch soon.

'I'll catch you, Mr. M. And when I will, we will have a lovely chat '

With that - she drifted off to sleep.

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏

In the early morning, Nari woke up to her phone buzzing. A text from a friend. With a soft groan, she sat up, taking it into her hands and seeing the message.

°•Katie•°

Morning, Nova. Don't forget to eat something in the morning. We all know how you forget those things when working on a case or a novel. Good luck!

The girl only chuckled. In true nature - her friend Katie left a usual morning message about eating. It was true - she would forget most of the time.

°•me•°

Of course. Is Wine night still present?

Wine night was their usual Friday night where the two girls would meet up at Nari's place and have a chat over a glass of wine. Though Katie had a terribly low tolerance - it was still interesting and useful for them. 20 minutes of talking would be the most they would get usually.

°•Katie•°

Yes! I bought your favorite wine too so you'll have a blast.

°•me•°

Wonderful. See you on Friday.

With Friday plans all set, she got out of bed and dragged her feet over to the kitchen to get some needed breakfast.

After managing to finish her simple meal and the cip of coffee she oh so desperately needed, she headed for her office. More work awaited her.

Meanwhile, in another spot in town, there sat a man in his office, waiting for a certain someone...and some certain information.

There was a knock on the solid wooden door and the man simply answered, his deep voice echoing through the room.

" Enter "

The door opened and a person walked in, holding the valued information he needed.

" I've gotten the information you wanted sir...and some interesting news too. Someone took up your case again "

Again? With a cold smirk, he raised his eyes to look at the henchman infornt of him.

" Oh really? Ans who is the new fool that decided to test their luck? "

" Its not a man this time. Its a woman. A famous detective in the city. " Replied the male , passing the boss the info.

" All you need to know is here soon "

His bright yellow eyes landed on the photo attached to the papers. He only let out a soft chuckle, before beginning to plan something in his mind.

" Lets see how far you can push your luck, my little detective...hopefully this will be more entertaining then the last time..."

#ikemen sengoku #mitsuhide akechi #ikemen mitsuhide #first fanfic #first work #i am dying #this took way too long

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