#I need to find that magazine spread I reblogged to my side not long ago. I want to live There hold on

[vimbry]

I think people who spent their formative years surrounded by the brief whimsigothic fad had something irreversibly done to their brains. whether it was a house you lived in or just saw in magazines/on TV, being exposed to that much wizardry and solar-system objects and purple, gold, and navy decor at prime plasticity set you up for lifelong disappointment at the relative mundanity

[deejadabbles]

Crimson Portrait (Seto Kaiba x Reader)

So as I said in my drabble a couple days ago, I’m wanting to write some short fics to get back into the swing of things and I wanted to gift said drabbles to some mutual I adore. Next on my list is @ohyema​ the top Vampire and Yugioh enthusiast on this site! I’m sure you’ve all seen her amazing art floating around already, but in case not please check out her stuff (and reblog the heck outta it!), the way she colors her pieces and adds dramatic flair is something I aspire to tbh <3 

For this fic I decided to spread my proverbial wings and write Seto for a change (don’t get used to this though, Kaiba fans, I’m still not a Kaiba stan lol) and I hope you enjoy our dark, mysterious blood thirsty, CEO ;)

You gulped, eyes traveling up the metal and glass of the building as though counting each towering floor would make it any less intimidating. It wasn’t just the size, of course, it was the marble path spread out in front of the entry, it was the literal red carpet on the other side of doors- it was the gold etching and suited man around said doors! You found yourself clutching the portfolio case under your arm even tighter to your chest. Subtle lights brightened the edges of the building, though you were sure they were meant to make it shine like a beacon of wealth at night, rather than give it any cheer or levity. 

This was by far the fanciest place you had ever been and the doorman casting a glance at you made you tug at your clothes for probably the seventeenth time since heading here. The outfit was fine, you reminded yourself; professional, but simple. Nothing that would impede your movements and work, all while still being close enough to your true fashion to offer you some self assurance. And you needed every ounce of self assurance possible right now.

After taking in a long, deep breath and straightening your posture, you started for the door. Despite the high chance that he was suspicious of you, the doorman pulled on the finely crafted handle and allowed you entry with a polite bow, nothing less. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to acknowledge him, but you returned the silent respect automatically. Then again, it didn’t really matter if you broke etiquette, you weren’t the high-class that lived here anyway.

The lobby was just as fancy as the outside. Your shoes clicked on more marble floors, and rich colored walls wearing frames of fine art surrounded you. There was a large wooden desk to one side, and the receptionist behind it clocked you as a non-resident, because she instantly greeted you with a “can I help you, miss?”

“Um- yes! Yes, I’m here to visit Mr. Seto Kaiba?” you followed the claim with your name and silently praying that was all you needed. The only way you were getting passed the front desk was if Kaiba (or his assistant) left your name with the attendant.

With a polite smile plastered on her face, she nodded and typed something quick on a computer obscured by the large backing of the desk. “Ah yes, Mr. Kaiba is expecting you. Please take the center elevator, he’s on floor 40.”

She waved her hand to the other side of the lobby, where three elevators with doors as clean and reflective as new mirrors stood. You gave her a quick thank you before following her instructions. The inside of the elevators were just as polished, the metallic sides reflecting your image. 

As the floors passed by, you checked to make sure the journey here hadn’t ruffled your appearance any, tucking hairs back into place, swiping your hand over the pristine portfolio briefcase, tugging at your hems yet again. You almost jumped when the elevator dinged, announcing your arrival at the top floor. You waited a few heart beats, long enough to start worrying you had the wrong floor- until it finally slid open.

The apartment was dimly lit, all the ceiling lights set to a dull, intimate glow one might see in a fancy bar. Then a different wave of nerves overcome you, hopefully this guy didn’t have the wrong idea of what service you were providing. 

“Are you going to come in, or continue wasting my time?”

You did jump that time, especially with how impatient the deep rumble of a voice sounded. With hurried steps you entered the apartment and ventured down the short hallway, following the voice. The hallway quickly opened into an expansive room, a couch, coffee table, TV, and desk on one side, and a kitchen, breakfast bar, dining table, and wet bar on the other. On the living room side, where the desk’s back sat, there was a large floor-to-ceiling window, the curtains pulled back to reveal the spiderweb of city lights and life beyond. 

Of course, what really drew your attention was the man standing in front of the window.

He hadn’t turned from the view to look at you let alone greet you, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched the pulsing city life. He wore a white suit, with a blue button-up shirt and a dark blue tie, making for nice, clean lines for your portrait. Seto Kaiba. A household name in most countries, the secretive CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world who’s fame for innovation was only matched by his notorious hermit tendencies. He appeared on magazines often enough, but many pointed out that they were likely deliberate presentations to the world. Deliberate to alleviate rumors because, besides them, neither Kaiba nor his younger brother were ever seen out in public and even rather rarely in their own corporate buildings.

You weren’t exactly someone who bought into that celebrity gossip, but it was still rather surreal seeing him in person like this.

“You can set up on the other side of the desk,” he started, still not turning from the window. “This is the background I want, I expect you to be able to handle it considering the portraits on your online portfolio.”

You tried not to gulp, “Of course, but it may take me an extra session or two to get the details.”

“As long as it’s done before I return to Domino,” he answered in a drawl, then, finally turned to face you. He placed a slender hand on the back of the leather desk chair, and you quickly made yourself busy with setting up. 

You felt that nerve-wracking, almost burning sensation of eyes watching you, and you could just imagine the icy blue of the eyes, remembering how Kaiba’s gaze always pierced through the magazine covers and into the viewer. Instead of thinking of how hawk-like he was watching you, you focused on how challenging and fun it will be to capture that quality in your painting.

Once your blank canvas was set up and your tools were spread out, ready for use, you finally locked eyes with the man. “I’m ready when you are, Mr. Kaiba, please take whatever pose you feel most comfortable with.” You had to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine, especially when he held your gaze for a moment more before finally shifting his stance.

After some verbal redirecting so his pose looked the best and got the key parts of the cityscape behind him, you actually got started on the canvas. Tokyo Tower stood like a sentinel behind him, making for nice framing, and he was a natural at posing, of course choosing one that was strong and commanding to the onlookers. 

It was quiet as you worked, he wasn’t playing any music, nor offering any chitchat. It was only then that you realized just how alone you two were in the penthouse, didn’t rich dudes like him have platoons of bodyguards?

Within the free seconds you had between maping your piece, your mind wandered back to the rumors surrounding the Kaiba family and their reclusiveness. Tales of Kaiba insisting on specially tinted windows for all his buildings and never being seen in the light of day led to some interesting ones. Mostly conspiracies about him being the secret illegitimate son of royalty, and inheriting hemophilia from said parentage. Now, noting how pale he looked against the background of vibrant city lights, you could slightly understand buying into that rumor. 

Not only that, but, the more glances you took while working, the more you noticed just how...sickly the man looked. His cheeks were a bit sunken, made worse by the dark circles under his eyes And on top of that, there was a sore redness around his eyes that was seeming to get worse every time you peered passed your canvas. None of his magazine pictures ever showcased these...unwell qualities. He must just be tired, you decided, being a CEO likely didn’t allow for much sleep, and here he was posing for a portrait late at night.   

You were just finishing up his outline when you decided attempt conversation. If he didn’t like it he would just tell you to shut up, after all.

“I was actually pretty surprised when you hired me, most people don’t bother with traditional portraits any more.”

There was awhile of silence, where Kaiba’s eyes flickered towards you before staring off to the other side of the room again. Your were just taking the mental note not to try a conversation again, when-

“It was my brother’s idea. I always look ahead, and cut out traditions and old ways that no longer serve me. But, he made the point that there are some classics still worth something. Besides, improving things like canvas portraits with modern settings was appealing.”

You found yourself smiling and nodding along, “Yeah, I really like the idea of having the city in the background, it’ll make for a really unique piece!” 

After picking your next brush, you peered over to refresh your mental image of the scene, only to find him staring at you again. His expression was rather indecipherable, and though his eyes were almost hooded the rest of his features were as blank as an empty page. Your heart was practically beating in your ears as you stayed transfixed in his gaze, which you swore were actually hued in red now, instead of solid icy blue.

A sound similar to a squeak, and you finally broke the contact to flick your gaze down to the hand resting on the back of the desk chair. His fingers were a sickly white, seeming to have no blood in them as his nails dug into the leather with a grip so strong he might be on the verge of puncturing the fabric.

Feeling that nervous heat again you quickly averted your gaze back to the canvas, even going as far as to shuffle behind it just slightly as though you could hide.

That didn’t help, much like when you were setting up, you could feel his gaze burning into you. Maybe he was offended, upset that you stared back at him, but he had no right to judge considering he was staring first! Seriously what was with this guy?

You weren’t sure how much time passed after that, it felt like an eternity but you were sure it wasn’t much longer than a half hour or so. You only stole glances at him when you absolutely felt like you had to refresh your mental image of the scene before giving another stroke of the brush. You avoided any eye contact even then and managed to skim over his face only once, during which you noted any previous color in his cheeks had vanished completely, but that was beside the point. You were just telling your brain to stop conjuring up theory’s on why he looked so sick and biting your tongue to keep from asking if he was alright when-

“We’re done for the night, you can continue tomorrow.”

If the sudden dismissal wasn’t enough to snap your attention back to him, the heavy breath within the words was. Your eyes snapped up to Kaiba and before you even registered his movement you were jumping from a harsh thud! He had removed his hand from the chair so swiftly that it spun and thudded into the desk with enough force to crack furniture of a lesser quality. 

Now Kaiba was pacing around his desk, gaunt jaw clenched so tight he might very well chip a tooth. Not wanting to argue with someone who apparently had the mood swings of an angst-ridden teen, you planned to start packing up without a word. However, just as he passed the coffee table, Kaiba took in a sharp breath and doubled over so fast he barely caught himself on the glass top.

Empathy won in a heartbeat and before you could reconsider you were by his side saying a frantic, “Are you okay? Mr. Kaiba you look sick, should I call a-?”

The concerned questions died in your throat and so too did a scream when something too red and too luminous to be eyes flashed up at you. The next moment something was wrapping around the prison that held your words and scream. The third moment your back was slammed none too gently into a wall you could have sworn was half a room away and a body colder than any you had felt before was pressing into you.

Eyes wide, body held still with fear, all you could do was take in a few shallow breaths as Kaiba’s mouth hovered over your neck. One heart thundering in your ears, two heartbeats, three-

But nothing happened. 

The hand pressing into your clavicle hadn’t tightened, and the mouth hovering dangerously close had not moved in for the kill (proverbial or otherwise), rather, Kaiba’s body seemed to be as frozen as yours.

Or at least you thought it was. A moment later you finally registered that Kaiba was shaking. Not violently by any means, hell, it was barely notable, but he was definitely shaking, as if he was trying to keep sickly shivers from wracking his body. His other hand moved up to grip your upper arm then, and his fingers were tight but not quite painful as he held you there.

“I shouldn’t have kept our appointment.”

The words were so shocking to your reeling mind that you almost didn’t register them. They were said lowly, in something akin to a growl or rumble.

“I should have told you to get out the moment I-”

Something on the other side of the condo sounded, a ding you had heard when first arriving on the floor, and not a second later footsteps were thundering.

“Seto!”

The youthful voice almost snapped you back to your sense enough to move, maybe even break free of his hold, but in that same moment  you felt something sharp graze the skin of your neck as Kaiba’s face turned to meet the newcomer.

Thankfully your recovered control wasn’t needed, as the moment Kaiba locked sites on the newcomer, he released his hold on you. In a fearful blink as you recovered your balance, you saw Kaiba make his way across the room faster than any human possible could.

That’s when you saw who had intervened; Mokuba Kaiba, the youth of the Kaiba empire. He was looking pale and worried, looking between his brother and you as Seto snatching something out of his hands. 

You caught the sight of something encasing red as Seto tore the package open, but he halted long enough to growl another command, “You need to leave, now.”

Your legs were finally able to move again, when you caught site of something that confirmed the impossible theories running though your head: sharp, pearly fangs were flashing between Seto’s lips.

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot - “Join Me for Dinner” (Rated M)

Sebastian Smythe, now a famous French chef, sets his sights on wooing Kurt. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Sebastian hopes that’s right ... and he has the perfect meal in mind. 

(I actually wrote this a while ago. Had an urge to reblog it, and couldn’t find it for the life of me. So here it is :) Warning for mention of cannibalism. Just gonna put that out there. )

Read on AO3.

Kurt watches Sebastian light the candles on the table and smiles, waiting for his host to sit before digging in to the mouthwatering meal spread out before him.

“You know,” Kurt says, fiddling with the edge of the scalloped tablecloth, “I’m glad you wore me down. These past two weeks have been amazing.”

Sebastian smirks, flicking the lid to the silver Zippo in his hand shut and shoving the lighter into his pocket.

“I’m just glad that after all this time you were finally willing to give me a chance.” Sebastian takes his seat across from Kurt and meets his gaze through the row of lined white tapers.

“I’m never going to believe for a second that you spent all that time at Dalton flirting with Blaine just to get my attention,” Kurt teases, his eyes darting down momentarily to the sumptuous dish of food waiting for him to take the first bite.

“I was, whether you believe it or not,” Sebastian admits with a shrug, pulling up his napkin and motioning for Kurt to do the same.

“Well, you’re full of surprises,” Kurt comments, rolling out his silverware and licking his lips, unaware of how carefully Sebastian watches him. “I would have never pictured you becoming a French chef.”

Sebastian grabs the bottle of wine from the center of the table and opens it, standing again to present it to Kurt.

“A Rare Red Four Grape Blend for your approval, monsieur,” he says as he pours Kurt a generous glass.

“Why, thank you, monsieur,” Kurt answers back, lifting the full glass in a toast. “Votre santé.”

“Votre santé,” Sebastian returns, raising his own glass in a toast. Kurt sticks his nose in the glass and sniffs, letting the aromas of chocolate and black fruit fill his senses before taking a sip, letting the alcohol slowly fill his mouth, wash over his tongue, and tingle down his throat.

“That’s smooth,” Kurt says with a sigh. “Sweet, but peppery.”

“You have an amazing palate.” Sebastian sits back in his seat, his eyes glued to Kurt’s mouth as he takes another sip. “You should come with me to California. If you’re a good boy, maybe we can visit the Scotto Cellar where this hails from.”

Kurt blushes, biting his lip as he looks back down at his plate.

“You know, Culinary Trends magazine calls you the ‘Prince of Presentation’,” Kurt says, swiftly changing the subject, “and they’re not wrong. This looks absolutely gorgeous. How am I going to eat it? I mean, how did you even come up with this design? It’s exquisite.”

Kurt can’t keep his eyes off the symmetrically sliced meat, perfectly blackened and drizzled with a thick, savory smelling brown sauce. It’s a relatively simple meal, but it’s the intricate details that put the overall appeal over the top.

“Well, the pearls around the edge are completely edible,” Sebastian points out with the tip of his steak knife, “and I chose them because they remind me of your beautiful, smooth, flawless skin.”

Sebastian lifts one onto the edge of his knife and offers it to Kurt. Kurt blinks down at it and swallows hard. His eyes dart back up to meet Sebastian’s dark, hooded gaze, and Sebastian can see a flicker of fear.

“Go ahead,” Sebastian purrs. “Trust me. Walk on the wild side.”

Kurt smiles, a grin that twists from scared to sultry with just a blink, and Kurt slips the knife between his teeth, letting the pearl drop off the sharp tip into his mouth. Sebastian moans when Kurt bites into it with a loud crunch, watching Kurt’s mouth move as he devours it greedily.

“Excellent,” Sebastian whispers. “Now, the silver beads are also edible, and they remind me of your stunning eyes.” Sebastian collects a silver bead onto his knife the same way, and this time Kurt sucks it off without a second thought, time closing his lips gently around it, the color of Sebastian’s eyes deepening immediately as he watches.

“And the orchids…” Sebastian reaches across the table and plucks one of the vibrant white and purple flowers off the meat, whispering in a voice that is dangerous and rough, full of restrained lust, “represent the parts of you…the soft, intimate parts of you that I am dying to taste…”

He leans across the table and drags the petals of the flower across Kurt’s lips, and this time Kurt moans, letting his eyelids flutter shut and chasing the flower with a sweep of his tongue. Sebastian grins wickedly when he sees Kurt shift in his seat, crossing his legs beneath the table.

“S-so…this whole meal…is about me?” Kurt stutters, opening his eyes again to find Sebastian still staring at him with that same hungry, unabashed stare.

“You and only you,” Sebastian says, gesturing to the plate with a flourish of his hand. “The cut of meat, the sauce, the decor…it’s all about you. No one…and I mean no one else will ever eat this meal.”

Kurt would have laughed if not for the sinister look in Sebastian’s eyes that told Kurt every word he spoke was the truth.

“Please,” Sebastian pleads, “take a bite. Let me watch you enjoy.”

Kurt lifts his knife and fork in almost trembling hands as he cuts through the meat. It’s tender, pulling apart, melting like butter beneath the metal of his knife. He skewers the small portion and runs it through the sauce once, taking his time, drawing out the seduction, all too aware of Sebastian’s eyes on him, his hands gripping onto the edge of the table as he waits, watching Kurt lift the fork to his lips to take the first bite.

The meat slips between his lips, onto his tongue. The combination of sweet and savory tingle his taste buds, and Kurt whimpers.

Sebastian watches Kurt chew; watches how the beautiful, long column of his throat works as he swallows; how Kurt’s eyes darken with the effects of the Burgundy in the sauce.

“Oh, Sebastian,” Kurt sighs, breathless, “that’s…that’s like a kiss…or…it’s just…”

“Excellent,” Sebastian whispers again, lifting his knife and fork to take his own bite.

***

“Thank you, Sebastian,” Kurt says, breathless after the amazing meal. “That was incredible.”

“I’m glad you appreciate my creations so much.” Sebastian takes Kurt’s hand and walks him to the door. “It’s nice to have someone to cook for.”

“You cook for thousands of people,” Kurt says with a laugh.

“True,” Sebastian agrees, “but I only create for you.”

Sebastian take Kurt’s hand in his, lifting it to his mouth, and presses his lips to the soft skin. Kurt’s eyelids narrow, his cheeks pinking furiously. He wants so much more than Sebastian’s lips brushing against just the back of his hand. Sebastian straightens, and Kurt surprises him, stepping forward and kissing him, capturing his lips gently, sliding their mouths together. Sebastian wraps his arms around him, holding him close, breathing him in and slipping his tongue into his mouth, taking a lazy moment to taste him.

“You know,” Kurt says, talking quietly against Sebastian’s mouth, “I would love to join you in California…if the offer stands.”

Sebastian smiles so Kurt can feel it against his skin.

“You know it does,” he says, kissing Kurt again, kissing him more, talking between presses of his lips and searching sweeps of his tongue. “It will be amazing, I promise. We’ll drink wine, and I’ll cook for you every night.”

“Mmmm, I can’t wait.”

Kurt kisses him again – one last, longing kiss to say good-night on; a kiss to remember him by.

Sebastian hums when Kurt finally finds the strength to pull away and say his last good-bye.

“What is it?” Kurt asks, watching Sebastian lick his lips.

Sebastian leans into Kurt’s ear, nibbling his earlobe gently and sighs, “You taste delicious.”

Kurt bites his lip and backs away, taking one last look at his gorgeous boyfriend, holding his hands as long as he can, fingertips sliding out of reach.

“Good-night,” Kurt says again.

Sebastian watches Kurt get into his Navigator, start his car, and drive away.

The words sink in.

Kurt is going with him to California.

This is it. This will definitely be the trip that seals the deal, and Sebastian can’t wait.

He sees a future for him and Kurt – traveling around the world, visiting exciting locales, sampling wines, making love under the stars.

He wants desperately to make Kurt see it, too.

This trip to the West Coast is the first step, and it needs to be special; needs to be perfect.

Sebastian drops down on his couch and takes out his iPhone, dialing his number one supplier.

“Hey, Sebastian!” Chandler’s voice sings over the line, the name sounding long winded and whiny in Chandler’s nasally voice, ending with an unnecessary pop on the final ‘n’. “How was dinner with your man?”

Sebastian relishes the sting of jealousy in Chandler’s voice. So many times Chandler thought that Sebastian would fall in love with him, but he was just a stepping stone in helping him get Kurt.

“Our little friend Azimio turned out a lot better than I had hoped,” Sebastian says.

“Thank God!” Chandler groans dramatically. “I was afraid he was going to turn out a little tough.”

“Nope, not at all. Not after I cooked his ass for twelve fucking hours. And Chandler…the wine…” Sebastian shakes his head and chuckles. “How in the hell did you manage to find the perfect vintage to compliment ‘aging athlete’?”

Chandler makes a high-pitched whining sound and Sebastian knows the compliments are working.

“It’s just a talent, I guess.”

“Well, it’s a good one,” Sebastian says condescendingly.

“An indispensable one, I hope,” Chandler hedges, his voice suddenly meek and small. Sebastian rolls his eyes, knowing what Chandler’s hinting at.

“I’d never eat you, Chandler,” Sebastian says with a note of exasperation. “I need you too much. Besides, there’s nothing on that ass of yours to eat anyway.”

Chandler chuckles in a way that disgusts even Sebastian.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Chandler asks.

“Nope,” Sebastian says quickly. “And neither will you, or bony ass or no you’ll end up a fucking side dish. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Sebastian,” Chandler sputters nervously. “Don’t be silly. I was just curious.”

“Good.” Sebastian hovers close to the phone as if Chandler is actually there to witness the gravity of Sebastian’s revelation on his face. “Okay, now I want you to listen carefully, Chandler, because this is important. I have an extra special trip coming up. I’m taking Kurt to California with me.”

“Ooo la la!” Chandler chirps.

“Ooo la la, indeed,” Sebastian says. “So, I need bigger this time.”

“Bigger?” Chandler asks, sounding thoroughly perplexed. “You’ve already served him Dave and Azimio. They were, like, the biggest bullies at McKinley. Who else are you going to find bigger than those two? Especially out in California?”

“Think about it, Chandler.” Sebastian stands from the couch and paces anxiously. “I need to make a statement without saying a word…I need you to get me…Blaine Anderson.”

[pinktatertots99]

kiss with a fist

summary: hiding marks are hard. people finding out about them is horrible. but the worst thing ever is making up excuses for those scars, because no what the excuse is, you'll always look like an idiot.

rated T for swearing and...implied sexual themes

here take this *throws this at your face and leaves.*

so...it's been a while since I wrote something. but, I thought, it's valentines day may as well do something. also, I need more of this ship on here. I'm really proud of this. please like or reblog. also I'd like to know what I can do better so please give me any advise or criticism you have.(be a bit gentle though, I'm a softy),

lazy title is lazy. I don't even know WHY I chose that name for this fanfic. probably because the name reminds me of this ship. (get it, because the characters are both fighters...and in a relationship...*cricket noises*...whatever I'm keeping it)

It was an average day at nanba prison, as average as this prison can get that is. As we look in to our main cast that reside in building 13 cell 13; with uno looking at the newest issue of the women's magazine, nico playing a new level on his gaming device kazari gave him, and jyugo who was bored out of his mind and looked just about ready to leave the cell, that is until the fourth member of their group, rock, came back into the shared cell.

"Huh, look who's back." Jyugo murmured, not really caring.

"ROCK'S BACK! YAY!" Nico exclaimed, dropping his game and running over to the bulked inmate and hugged him, causing the other to grunt in surprise.

"Nico, don't hug him. he's sweaty and gross." Jyugo said, causing uno to snicker, nico to let go of the proclaimed sweaty and gross inmate, and rock giving jyugo an angry look.

"So~, how was the workout at building 5?" Uno asked, still slightly preoccupied with his magazine.

"It was-" Rock started.

"Were there any female guards there?" Uno interrupted. 'of course that's what he would ask' everyone thought. "No. there are no female guards there" rock sighed in annoyance towards his friend's stupid question, his back towards everyone, as he took off his tank top.

"That's not whAT THE SCRATCH MARKS ON YOUR SHOULDER BLADES SAY!" Uno shouted, pointing at rock's shoulder blades, giving it jyugo and nico's attention. Sure enough, there were large scratch marks that covered rock's shouler blades.

"Huh?" Rock asked, a bit of surprise in his tone. "Uh...those...aren't what you think they are."

"ooooh REALLY?!" Uno exclaimed, "Then WHAT exactly are they?"

It took a couple of seconds for rock to reply. "They're...uh..." rock hesitated "I..got in a bit of trouble with kuu." He murmured.

"Kuu?" Jyugo asked, surprised but critical. Kuu was a pretty chill cat who was fine with rock's over affectionate attitude towards the miniature furry guard, and rock has been an animal lover for most of his life, so he had enough experience knowing when an animal has lost it's patience. So hearing that kuu scratched rock for either no reason or because rock's affection got a bit out of control was really confusing for jyugo to wrap his head around. But before anyone could press for more questions, rock had closed the door to their shared bathroom.

"Hey," Nico started. "Since kuu's a guard and scratched rock, does that mean he'll be suspended?"

"He's a cat nico." Jyugo stated.

"But he is a guard." Uno commented. "I even heard he's on a higher rank than seitarro." He snickered, amused by this fact. "Actually, now that I think about it, I know that guard dogs that attack people for no reason are ordered to be euthanized-"

"THEY'RE GONNA PUT KUU DOWN?!" Nico squealed, ghilbi sized tears welling up in his eyes.

"THEY BETTER FUCKING NOT!" Jyugo screamed, the look of murder in his eyes.

'Oh boy' Uno thought, looks like he was gonna have to do something before the two went on a self proclaimed rescue mission.

As he finally tied up his long raven hair in a tight braid, building 5 cell 8's inmate 02, liang, still had his mind racing as he was going over the checklist in his brain. The bars were always open so no one would notice any...unusual smells, he put his training clothes in the dirty clothes basket and there would be no reason for his cell mates to look through it, he showered, and brought his clothes with him before going in and...oh wait, where was his shirt? Liang smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, he only brought his boxers and pants with him. He was in such a hurry that he forgot his shirt. Liang sighed, putting on his boxers and pants and opening the door hoping that his cell mates weren't back-

"yo, did you save enough warm water for later?" Qi inquired.

Damn it. They were back already.

Instinctively, once liang heard the lazy bum's voice he put his left hand over the left side of his neck and he scanned the room. Qi was on his bed looking at some random magazine, and upa was currently levitating with his legs crossed, putting his cactus down. They weren't looking at him. Perfect. He could use this to his advantage to get his shirt and go unnoticed. As he walked across the room he was stopped half way by upa, who had floated in front of him, blocking his path.

"What's wrong with your neck?" he asked, in his monotone voice. Despite sounding uninterested, if the qigong prodigy asked you if you were okay, then he was very interested.

"It's nothing." liang answered quickly. He was so close getting to his shirt. He hoped that his reply would be enough.

Upa just looked at him with critical eyes, he didn't believe him, figures. He was also not moving out of liang's way. The urge to go around upa was an option that was weighing in liang's mind. But he wouldn't do that, it was rude.

Before he could react, liang's hand was forcefully pulled away from his neck. "what the-" he started looking at his hand. There was an aqua-ish blue aura. He looked back at the smaller inmate in front of him. The jiang-shi's usual neutral face was replaced with dilated pupils and his mouth slightly agape. He saw it. dang it.

 All this commotion caused qi to get up and go over to the pair. "Oi, upa," he called out sternly. "Your not supposed to use your powers on people, remember?" He was right. Upa was under a strict rule to not use his powers on others unless it was ABSOLUTELY needed. As qi walked over to the two of them, he took a glance at liang's neck, did a double take, looked back and stared, his eyes went wide in shock. "Woah." he uttered.

On the left side of liang's neck was a large purple bruise that spread from his collarbone to side of his neck.

Upa had let go of liang's hand and moved to his left. Once his hand was free, liang instantly put it back on the spot but it was too late, they already saw it. He could feel his cellmates gazes burning on him though.

"What happened?" qi asked."What did you do?" upa questioned. They both spoke at the same time. Liang avoided looking at them as he approached his shirt and picked it up.

"...I got in a training incident." he suddenly spoke, still not looking at them. Both qi and upa gave him questioning looks.

"With what? A bear trap?" qi questioned half jokingly.

"Of course not." liang stated, putting his arms through the sleeves and looking over at the scientist. "The staff got rid of those weeks ago and I don't even have access to them."

"I was joking." qi sighed. one of liang's many amazing characteristics is that jokes went over his head a bit too easily. Qi looked over at upa, who was standing next to him. the tall man leaned down to the smaller one's level.

"You think he's telling the truth?" he whispered.

The small jiang-shi turned around and replied. "I'm not sure." he stated. "Liang's mostly careful with training, but he can also go overboared and become reckless so it's a possibility."

'No matter how quietly you two whisper I can STILL hear you.' liang thought to himself, getting irritated. He'd tell them that but he decided not to, because if he did the then it would've opened up the possibility that they might start asking questions. Later in the day qi gave liang an ointment he made to heel the bruise.

A week later, rock had come back to building 5 to train. Everyone was in their places, inori was lounging on the bench reading a questionable magazine, qi had claimed to be 'sick' and was also lazing on a bench, upa was already running on the practice field, and yamato and tsukumo, who had come with rock earlier, have disappeared(but it was obvious they just went somewhere else on the field to train). The able-bodied inmate looked around until he saw the athletic-enthusiast liang, leaning on one of the building's pole's. Rock smiled.

" 'EY, LIANG!" rock called out. walking over to him. Liang looked over and was also starting to walk over to him, arms crossed. They walked toward each other. Rock stopped halfway but liang was still walking. It looked like he was about to pass rock when he stopped at rock's side for a second.

"Follow me." he ordered quietly, walking away from the muscular inmate. It took a good five seconds for rock to process what happened, but then he looked back and started following him. They both rounded a corner of the building. Oddly enough there were no guards or inmates around.

Before rock could ask what liang wanted, liang turned around to him with an irritated expression.

"Next time you need to bite something, I advise you to bite anything other then my neck." he asserted. It took a bit for rock to figure out what he was saying. Then it finally hit him. He looked back at liang with a similar annoyed expression.

"Oh yeah?" he asked. "Well next time how about you don't scratch my back so hard. When the guys saw them, I had to blame kuu on it."

"And?"

"And he didn't deserve that because he's AN INNOCENT SHEDDING BALL OF HAPPINESS WHO WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING!"

Liang huffed. "Well at least YOUR story is believable, mine was so obscure that my cellmates BARELY believe it."

"Well it couldn't have been THAT unbelievable."

Liang pulled down the turtleneck of his training shirt, exposing the still healing bruise; it was smaller than before but still visible "I told them I got this from a training incident."

Golden eyes widened as rock looked at the large mark on the other male's neck.

"Wha~ I did that?" he asked. Liang just stared at him, the answer was obvious.

Rock tore his gaze away, blushing and smiling a bit. It kinda looked good on the other and it felt nice knowing that was HIS bite mark on his...boyfriend.

Yeah, they were in a relationship. Although neither of them could remember EXACTLY how it happened. They were originally trying to build a friendship between each other. Sharing lunch with each other, going out exercising together and doing things that they had in common with each other, and it was going great, but then the secret hand holding, kissing, and the more...intimate stuff started happening. Neither of them knew how this happened, but it did, and they were perfectly fine with this. The only problem was they had to keep this a secret. Not because of fear of being rejected, their cellmates wouldn't care that much about who they dated. They had to keep this a secret due to a certain rivalry between a monkey and a gorilla. 

Rock looked back at liang with an apologetic look.

"Heh, yeah, sorry about that." he apologized. Liang nodded, his way of forgiving this lovable idiot. They both stood there in awkward silence for a bit.

"So...is their anything else you don't like?" Rock inquired, breaking the silence. liang looked puzzled for a second, processing the question. Once he understood he put a finger on his chin, thinking.

"I'd also like for you not to pull on my braid when we're doing..." he paused, a light magenta colored blush dusting his cheeks, "...that." he finished.

Rock grinned, "got it."

Liang looked up. "is there anything you don't want me to do?" he inquired. Rock started thinking for a bit, longer than when liang was asked the same question. he finally answered.

Rock chuckled. "Uh. well I guess I'd like for you not to scratch me so much."

Liang nodded. "Understood."

Liang was about ready to leave when rock reached out and gripped his wrist, not too hard but firm enough for the other to not leave.

"Hold on a second."

"What?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked with a mischievous grin. Liang cocked his head in confusion, he didn't think he was forgetting anything. His confusion was answered when the burly male put his own finger on his lips. Liang's cheeks turned a dark shade of magenta, almost red.

"W-what?" he stuttered. Rock's grin just grew wider. they both knew what he wanted.

"No. Absolutely not."

"aaww. why noooot?" he complained.

"We're in public."

"But no ones around to see." He was right there were still no guards or prisoners around this side of the building. Liang huffed, he wasn't budging.

"At least a peck." he begged. "Please. just one. pleeeaaasse." Liang groaned in defeat.

 "...Fine." he said through gritted teeth.

He walked closer to the other and had to step on his toes to reach. Rock closed his eyes awaiting the kiss when he felt a sudden stinging feeling on his neck. He yelped, eyes wide open and smacked his hand over the spot that hurt. He looked at liang who had stood back and was...grinning?!

Rock removed his hand, revealing a small bite mark the size of a mosquito bite on his neck. He looked back at liang. He was wearing a toothy grin now.

"Wha-? Did you?" he stumbled. Liang giggled softly. "revenge." he whispered haughtily and he started walked away. Rock gawked at the other before growling. "Oh. I am SO kicking your ass later." he threatened. Liang stopped by the corner and looked at him, smirking.

"Hm...I'd like to see you try." he instigated. and rounded the corner. Rock followed him short after, he was DEFINIETLY going to get him for this. either he defeats him in a fight or...some other form of punishment.