#stuff will be spread out so it might be an odd order compared to when stuff was submitted

[sneeb-canons]

THDPH is the only PH who likes Hugs (the drink that tastes like paint) and the others judge him for it CONSTANTLY. Jouse supports him (gets fed grapes)

The drinks, for reference ^

Headcanon #666

[hayanwulf]

i NEED more of vampire stephen and blood donor loki

please-😭

Click here to read the first part of StrangeFrost Vamp!Stephen

I apologize to those readers who read my stuff only for M/M lmao, I’ve always viewed Loki as genderfluid and it has a heavy influence on the way I write them in a relationship.

“Stephen.”

Stephen ignored the call, buried nose-deep in his book.

“Oh just, put that away, will you?”

No, he couldn’t. He had been a vampire for nearly a week now, and there was still no solution in sight. None of the standard spells worked for him, because he had apparently been turned by a ‘pure blood’. So he had to find a solution, and soon.

He refused to live as a monster that needed to hurt other beings in order to survive.

Suddenly the book was snatched away from his hold. Stephen blinked dumbly, looking up at Loki’s retreating back.

“Loki, give it back. I need to find a reversal spell.”

Loki dropped the book on the other corner of the table with a thud, turning to face him. “What you need is some respite. You’ve been hiding in here for days. Let us go out, have some fresh air, as your Midgardians say.”

Stephen turned to look at the window.

The sun was high in the sky, and warm sunlight was streaming in through the open gap. The heat it brought in didn’t hurt Stephen, he had modified the Sanctum’s wards for his own safety the moment he had felt vitalized enough for it.

Stephen longed for the sun, though. He missed the warm, comforting feel of Fall sunlight on his skin.

He sighed tiredly, turning back to Loki. “You want me to step out in the sun?” He asked dryly.

Loki scoffed. “What do you take me for? I might thoroughly enjoy causing you a little mischief, but I’m not that callous. No. I had a much discrete place in mind.” With that, Loki held out a hand for him.

Stephen once glanced at the hand, then at the book that lay on the far corner of his table.

Well. It wasn’t like he was ever going to find the solution today itself.

He stood up and took Loki’s hand.

That familiar feel of Loki’s seiðr wrapped all around his body and he freely gave himself up to it. For a very brief moment, he was engulfed by a void, a state where his body existed everywhere and nowhere. It was an odd feeling, being teleported through Loki’s magic. It would certainly feel jarring for any non-magic person. Stephen, however, always found comfort in it.

When he could feel his physical form again, the landscape had changed.

They stood in the middle of a vast, snowy desert.

The night sky overhead was alive with swirling ribbons of colors, a hundred different shades of greens, purples, and blues, dancing across the heavens in graceful waves. The constellations of a million stars seemed almost dim in comparison as the auroras shimmered and twisted, casting a soft, almost magical glow on the snow.

As a sorcerer, Stephen had been to worlds unknown, had witnessed spectacles unseen.

Yet, it was the comparatively simplistic beauty of Aurora Australis that had him thoroughly enchanted.

I suppose there’s no place like home, he mused as he walked a slow circle, taking in the view of the entire South Pole sky.

A shimmer of actual magic at the corner of his eyes caught his attention, and he glanced down to find greenish-gold sparks of magic coming to life around Loki.

“I watched this Midgardian movie the other day,” Loki said conversationally as his green magic poured down to the snow, spreading all around under their feet, as though inspecting the snow. Gently probing it, forming a connection with it.

“You watched a movie?” Stephen asked with a raised eyebrow. “What happened to ‘you Midgardian’s methods of entertainment are all dull and inferior’?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Fine. I did not wish to watch it. But the Spider Child looked like he would have wept if I were to refuse him.”

Well, Peter’s puppy eyes had that kind of effect on pretty much any living being. So Stephen was going to allow that excuse.

Loki continued. “There was a queen, of ice. She made a palace with nothing but her own ability.”

Ah, Frozen. Of course, Stephen thought, as he watched the green shimmer of magic disappear into the snow, binding itself with the ice.

“I believe I can do it better than her,” Loki declared with a smirk.

Stephen hummed, eyes challenging as they stared at the Asgardian. “Be my guest.”

Loki took a step closer to Stephen, and as she did, she changed into her female form. Her robes changed from her usual battle-ready Asgardian garbs, into something a lot more suited for a princess in some royal ball. It wasn’t quite similar to Elsa’s, but was regal in its own right, with the touch of a fashion style that was undeniably Loki. It was a beautiful emerald green. A long, deep green cloak grew out from Loki’s shoulders as she took another step towards Stephen.

She took another step, slamming it down on the snow authoritatively, and her magic flared to life beneath their feet. Stephen watched in awe as a hexagonal platform formed under them and rose, six pillars around their platform rising higher to form a beautiful enclosure. He could smell Loki’s magic in the air as the ice shifted and transformed into beautiful crystals, forming a palace around the two of them. It was a parody of Elsa’s palace in Let it Go, though not identical, and had the influence of an architecture that was positively Asgardian.

“So, whose did you like more?” Loki’s voice drew Stephen’s attention, and it was only then that he realized that the structure’s formation had long since finished, and he was still marveling at all the details and the beauty of ice around him. He turned to her, and found her gazing at him with a satisfied smirk.

He huffed. “That smirk in your face tells me you already know the answer.”

She tilted her head, a perfect picture of oblivious. “Do I?”

The large icy doors to the balcony were open behind the goddess, beautiful lights of aurora visible from Stephen’s spot. The way it painted the backdrop behind a Loki who looked every bit the graceful Princess that she was, Stephen didn’t think he could take his eyes off of her even if he tried to.

“This is beautiful, Loki.”

You’re beautiful, he didn’t say, even though he really wanted to.

The bloodlust inside him slowly began to nudge his way up, reminding him what he had become now, reminding him that he might never have a human life ever again.

Even if he refused to acknowledge that.

[fereldenturnip]

But Don’t You Ever Let Me Go (3)

Primo Nizzuto/Majid Zamari Sugar Daddy Fic

Part 3/ ?

(Parts 1, 2)

Plus @ournextdoorneighbor has done several arts for #TrustTheWolf! Go check that AMAZING stuff out! :D

Majid wakes up at 10:58 am, completely well-rested. The evidence of his stale pleasure is glued to his body hair. The odd prickling promptly jump-starts his brain straight into freak-out mode. 

The car ride. Primo’s dulcet tones. The smell of him on his skin. The pleasure of release after so long without.

Majid leaps out of bed. 

Last night was a mistake. A weakness. One Majid is embarrassed to have committed in the first place. 

What’s shocked him most is the ferocity of his swift libido. Majid’s had fantasies before, lurid wet dreams inspired by exaggerated magazine spreads. Hot chicks in nothing but lingerie and ‘come hither’ stares. He used to go through bottles of lotion and boxes of tissues like crazy before he finally started having sex for real. 

Sex with women. 

Because Majid likes women. He isn’t gay! 

…Or, is he?

Fuck! Majid squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t know anymore! That tame, midnight fantasy was nothing at all compared to all his previous raunchy escapades, but it was also the most intense orgasm of his life. Primo’s very masculine body, his very manly voice, his very alpha-male presence awakens a dark need inside Majid. Hell, it knocked him unconscious for hours after emptying his balls all over himself. 

Still, Majid is confused. 

It’s the weekend. He’s off from work and that means no surprise visits from certain Mafia Dons. Hopefully. Just thinking about Primo overwhelms Majid and sends him into a wild frenzy around his flat. He spends most of his afternoon laundering his bed sheets and clothes, cleaning himself thoroughly in the shower…and then scrubbing down the tiles when he strokes out another Primo-induced orgasm. 

It’s absurd, but Majid suspects one look at him and Primo will know his shame. His cock gives a valiant twitch at that. 

Is this real life? Is Majid going to spend the rest of the weekend wanking off to Primo? He groans, flopping down on his springy mattress and hanging his head. 

What exactly is it about Primo that awakens Majid’s sexual urges when nothing else has? Objectively speaking, Primo is a handsome-looking older man. Any fool with eyes, gay or straight, can see that plain as day. After the first few encounters with the man, Majid scoured old newspaper clippings from decades past. Desperate to understand the gravitas behind the notorious Primo Nizzuto.

Gone is the ridiculous pornstache and bell-bottoms of his youth, exchanged for modern (albeit still flamboyant) facial hair and fashion. The floppy hair and thick thighs remain, plus the addition of one pierced ear that came about during the 80’s. In fact, Majid once spent an entire lunch captivated by a single teardrop-shaped pearl earring that swayed in time with Primo’s conversation.

He appears to have aged like a fine wine, hale and healthy, time only adding to his magnetic elegance. All that country air and good food is a testament to the wonders of Italian longevity. 

Add to that his influential power--and Majid isn’t that dumb not to notice the excited thrill he feels whenever Primo exercises said power on Majid’s behalf. Small, insignificant Majid, a real nobody that Primo pulls out all the stops for. Majid likes people watching? With a wave of his hand, Primo gets them a table with a stunning view for lunch. The gallery too crowded for Majid? One word and suddenly it’s just the two of them gazing at dusty old paintings. Primo could have literally anyone in the world, but instead he chooses to fill his days with Majid. 

It’s hot. 

It wasn’t like this with Hakan, who pranced around pretending to be his mentor so long as Majid continued making him money. Who coddled him while simultaneously collaring him. 

Yeah, but Hakan didn’t want to fuck your brains out, either. 

Oh, he knows exactly what Primo wants. Who he wants. Question is, is Majid willing to give it to him? 

Primo is sexually charged and aimed at Majid, ready to fire whenever he’s given permission. That the ball is even in existence and firmly in Majid’s court is pleasantly reassuring. Despite all his carnal hunger, Primo will wait patiently for his enthusiastic consent. In some small measure, Majid can exert his own special power over the man. That in and of itself is attractive.

It’s exhilarating and dramatic, daunting and intimidating. Has Majid been playing it straight this whole time because it was expected of him? 

Living in Italy only makes it easier to remove himself from the trappings of his old life and examine the bigger picture. For the first time, he’s outside of the rigid confines of tradition that mandated he be hard-boiled and repressed. Finally, Majid can breathe easy and freely explore what makes his cock throb without shame. Try as he might to abhor this “perverted” behavior, Majid not-so-secretly delights from the adventures, the conversations…the pampering. Maybe it’s alright to admit kneeling, crawling, and kissing Primo’s signet ring is exactly what he desires. 

However, if Majid capitulates to Primo’s wants and needs, what’s in store for him when he inevitably fucks up? What security is there that he won’t end up beaten into another bloody pulp, or worse--dead? Honestly, it’s the punishment that scares Majid more than the sex. He’s racked with crippling anxiety--pins and needles in his fingers and toes, air freezing inside his lungs, the memory of bone splintering while someone he trusted sits indifferent to his suffering. 

Surviving Hakan? Pure dumb luck. Surviving Primo? Not likely. Every moment spent with Primo is like lighting a matchstick around a puddle of gasoline. One wrong move and everything goes up in flames. Every nerve in his body is telling him to run, far away from Primo Nizzuto’s reach. 

Everytime he gets the itch to move, those damn captivating green eyes lure him right back again. 

You’re an idiot, Zamari.

++++

“Boss wants you to have this,” the man in the dark suit says.

It’s sunny as shit outside, enough that Majid squints an eye trying to adjust after spending so long in the auto shop. There’s a backdrop of power tools and air compressors whirring away behind him. In front, the Suit wears a thick pair of nondescript sunglasses over a neutral expression. He wiggles the package again.

Majid scrunches his face at the square box. It’s expertly wrapped in crimson paper that looks quite supple and expensive. It’s…a gift. A bloody gift, given the colour. Gulping, Majid wipes his hands off on a rag and clumsily accepts it. Suit goes absolutely nowhere, merely crosses his hands and waits patiently. Primo must have ordered him to witness Majid’s reaction and report back to him. Shit, Majid’s face burns hot and it isn’t from the sun.

The wrapping is just as buttery-soft as expected. It calms his initial, childlike instinct to rip and tear it open. Inside is a black box embossed with pale gold letters.

BVLGARI. 

Majid’s eyes widen comically. He stares at the box, then at Suit. 

Silence. Not even a shrug or head-tilt to acknowledge Majid’s turmoil. Nothing. Perfect, civil obedience. With his heart thumping loudly in his ears, Majid is almost envious of his observer’s detachment. His thumb edges the corners of the box and he immediately likens his situation to Pandora. What fresh hell is he inviting into this world by opening Primo’s gift? Just sign here on the bottom line...

Nestled on a cushion of creamy velvet is an all-black watch. The straps are a liquidy-soft metal of intertwining onyx teeth. The wide crystal face is ringed in matte black lettering (and fuck, it’s an actual Bvlgari) and tiny yellow-gold dials. Three perfect subdials catch a sunbeam and flare molten and golden, like miniature full moons in the midnight sky. 

Woof!

His brown eyes light up and dance at the superb craftsmanship. It’s edgy but sleek, confident and dangerous--whoever wears it will surely strike an intimidating figure.

Oh, who is he kidding? Majid is totally going to wear this. Already his wrist is heavy and itching with anticipation. It’s absolutely perfect and exactly to Majid’s tastes. It’s as if Primo saw inside his soul and plucked out all his wants and desires just to hand them back on a silver platter. A plume of heat rushes down his spine to settle in his extremities. 

Shivering, Majid reassembles the box and stares at the expectant Suit. He’s almost tempted to pass it back, refuse this precious (ludicrously expensive) gift, if only to gauge his reaction. The Suit wouldn’t mind, but he’d still have to deliver the news to the benevolent gifter. It’s already been well-established that Primo brushes off rejection like water off a duck. Or, in his case, a black swan. His first proffered gift was an entire damn vineyard. Dozens of meals and car rides later, a four-figure watch is innocent. 

His fingers trace the embossed logo. It’s such a thoughtful gift, too. 

“Please give Signor Nizzuto my sincerest,” apologies, “thanks.” Fuck. 

Suit nods stiffly, pivots on one polished heel, and returns to his nondescript car. 

Majid escapes the hot air outside and returns to the auto shop. The gift is tenderly tucked inside his personal locker, with the lock pulled twice just to verify it is indeed fastened. The rest of his work day is spent in a complete daze. Everything blends together--Majid can’t count how many car batteries and broken tail lights he replaces, his mind and eyes skittering back to bore holes into his locker. 

When he greets Primo outside his apartment for their usual Tuesday night dinner, Majid is clean of grease and clothed in his best black attire. There’s been an effort to tame his growing curls and trim his short beard. He looks handsome. 

The sallow streetlamp outside casts him all in shadow. Somewhere a dog barks.

This time, when the chauffeur opens the backseat door he lets Primo exit and meet Majid in the crisp night air. The two of them stand silently across from each other, only a scant few feet apart. Primo is dressed in a close-fitting red suit so dark it might as well be black. 

Beware, the devil wears red… 

Unabashed green eyes soak in his appearance, slow and sultry over all his edges and curves. Majid holds himself still, blazer tucked in the crook of his left arm. The purposeful posture highlights the gleaming watch adorning Majid’s wrist. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

Primo blinks once, tongue blatantly stroking along his bottom lip, “Do you like it, my boy?”

His husky words are a temptation, promising notes ringing in the air between them. Shuddering madly and unable to speak, all Majid does is nod. A smile carves its way onto Primo’s face, chiseling dimples in his cheeks. Those eyes of his are electric. He takes a step closer, bringing a cloud of that damn cologne with him--Majid inhales sharply--then promptly backing off to the side. A playful little dance that leaves Majid absolutely reeling. One gentlemanly sweep of his hand, Primo beckons him towards the belly of the rumbling car. 

…So tempt away, devil, Majid thinks carelessly and ducks inside. 

[demi-shoggoth]

COVID-19 Reading Log, pt 18

Man, this past month has been a heck of a year, hasn’t it? I’ve still been reading books, but my pace has ebbed and flowed, and I forgot to update this for a while. So here’s my thoughts on ten of the most recent books I’ve read.

91. The League of Regrettable Sidekicks by Jon Morris. I had no idea this book existed until I was doing image searches for this project for the other “League of Regrettable X” books. This one covers the sidekicks, minions and goons of comic history. Unlike the other books by Jon Morris, the spread is more even of Gold/Silver/other ages of comic books. After all, the 70s is when Jaxxon the green rabbit appeared in Star Wars, and the 80s had a shape-shifting penguin named Frobisher in the Doctor Who comics. It also feels like it’s a little looser about what makes a character “regrettable”. Some of the sidekicks in its pages, like Woozy Winks and Volstagg the Voluminous, are legit great characters.

92. Encyclopedia of Things That Never Were by Michael Page and Robert Ingpen. I wanted to like this book; I really did. For one thing, it was recommended to me by @listmaker-lastcity​, who I was working with on commissions. For another thing, it was fairly pricy used. Thirdly, to its merit, it is gorgeous. Michael Page, the illustrator, is credited first, and rightly so. But for an “encyclopedia”, it makes up a lot of stuff. It opens with a disclaimer that “the creators of this book have… unlocked their own fantasies”, which means that it invents Arthuriana and Greek myths wholeheartedly. Several of the entries do not exist outside this book, and others are so distorted that their actual folkloric origins have been clouded and obscured by people using this as a source. For material I’m not familiar with the primary sources of, like Gulliver’s Travels, I have no idea if it’s reflecting the source material accurately, or making things up whole cloth. As a fantasy, it’s intermittently fun; some rather nasty misogyny does sneak in and the book is wildly anti-science. As a reference work, it’s useless to the point of actively harmful.

93. Solutions and Other Problems by Allie Brosh. I was a huge fan of the “Hyperbole and a Half” blog back in the day, and knowing Allie Brosh’s history of mental health problems, I was worried when she seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. Her release of a second book was a pleasant surprise, but also showed that some worry was appropriate. This collection of essays, cartoons and heavily-cartooned essays is sadder than the first collection, as it was written during and after a series of family tragedies. It is still very funny in parts, however, and has an overall message of self-care and love that turned out to be extra relevant in the nightmare year that is 2020. It’s the only book for this project that I read in a single sitting. Highly recommended.

94. Mozart’s Starling by Lyanda Lynn Haupt. This book is half memoir, half biography. The composer Mozart owned a starling during some of his most productive years as a composer, and even wrote an elegy to it when it died. The author used this as a launching point to adopt her own starling, and to examine how this invasive species is seen in American birding culture. The writing is humanistic and charming, and very self-aware (the author worries that her starling is going to die, because that’s what always happens in “this animal changed my life” books). The message is one of respecting all other creatures and of valuing the lives of animals, which is not much of a surprise from the author’s other books (I covered The Urban Bestiary earlier in this project.

95. The Butchering Art: Joseph Lister’s Quest to Transform the Grisly World of Victorian Medicine by Lindsey Fitzharris. The subtitle says it all; this is a biography of Joseph Lister, focusing on his research into antisepsis and promotion of sterile technique in surgery. It takes ample digressions to talk about other major surgeons of the time, the state of hygiene and disease theory in Victorian England, France and the United States, as well as things like labor conditions and women’s rights. These bits and pieces are woven in successfully, so they feel like appropriate context setting. Fitzharris is empathetic despite the often grisly subject matter, but readers with a sensitive stomach and a low tolerance for gore might want to skip this one.

96. Twice the Thrills! Twice the Chills! by Bryan Senn. This is a big book, 400 pages in full sized paper. It is an overview of the horror/SF double feature, covering every movie released initially in that format between 1955 and 1974 in the United States. As such, it reviews more than 200 movies, with behind-the-scenes anecdotes, critical opinion and box office, and general coverage of trends and themes in genre cinema at the time. I enjoyed this book greatly, especially since it covered some movies I’d never even heard of. The timing is perfect, too, as I read this book just before @screamscenepodcast​ covered the first entries in it, Revenge of the Creature/Cult of the Cobra. My one complaint is that the author seems biased against Japanese films. He discredits the special effects and monster suits in kaiju movies compared to even movies like Attack of the Giant Leeches and The Killer Shrews, and complains about acting and scripts in Japanese films much more than he does for other dubbed films. He also consistently refers to Ishiro Honda as “Inoshiro Honda”, which is how his name was misspelled in the 60s. That level of disrespect for some of my favorite genre pictures is a constant low-level irritation in what is otherwise a fine resource.

97. Cursed Objects by J. W. Ocker. This is a fun catalog of objects said to be cursed, including the whys, supposed effects and current locations of these artifacts. The book is sorted into categories, like “cursed objects in museums”, “cursed furniture”, “technological cursed objects”. It takes a skeptical, folkloric look at the topic, being more interested in the stories than in any legit supernatural powers. It even talks about things that “should” be cursed because of their odd appearances or eerie provenances, but aren’t, like the Crystal Skull forgeries. The book is a pleasant and breezy read, and the author has a good sense of humor on the topic. He curses the book itself with an epigram against thieves, and buys a cursed dog statue on eBay that sat on his desk throughout the writing process.

98. Death in the Garden by Michael Brown. This book is wildly misnamed, being light on both the “garden” and the “death”. It’s supposedly a social history of poisonous plants, but is more interested in English herbals specifically. It refers to the authors by name extensively as if we should have all of these memorized, and the only place where the prose has any energy is in the biographical section for these herbalists. There’s very little information about the actual plants and their poisons. I would use the word “doddering” to describe the prose style, which is simultaneously rambling and boring. The photography is pretty, though.

99. Ripley’s Believe it Or Not! 1929-1930 by Robert Ripley. IDW puts out lovely volumes of vintage American comics, and this is no exception. Being a kid into weird facts and trivia, and an adult who is still into them, the Ripley franchise was a major part of my childhood. This is the first modern collection organized chronologically, covering the first two years the strip was in national syndication. The strips cover the typical Ripley mix of sports trivia, weird facts, word riddles and puzzles, misleading statements and the occasional outright lie. The book has a warning about the racial attitudes of the time, which is fair, but it’s not nearly as bad as I feared. Ripley’s habit of drawing from photographic references means that people in ethnic minorities look like real people. But the language is decidedly “of its time”, with slurs used to identify foreign ethnicities (particularly Asian ones). So be warned.

100. Unlucky Stiffs: New Tales of the Weirdly Departed by Cynthia Ceilan. I’m ordering material to pick up from my local library again, which is great! This book was actually recommended by the library website based on the morbid slant of some of the other books I was putting on hold. Unfortunately, this book sucks. It’s pitched as a “weird deaths” book, something like a more literary version of the Darwin Awards. But the deaths are often not all that bizarre, instead being typically sad accidents or murders. It just comes off as mean spirited and misanthropic. Not recommended.

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Game Over

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

You can blame this fic's existence on the anon who requested the fic of Luigi becoming a boo via the boo powerup. That fic implanted the idea of Luigi turning into a boo via other means into my head and it stuck with me so I figured why not have it be a Halloween thing. Meaning content warning for major character death and graphic violence as well as an unhappy ending. This was supposed to go up alongside the final chapter of Haunted Castle but I couldn't finish the final chapter in time so we must settle for this.

~

Mario’s portrait was hung up on the wall on the opposite side of the room. There was no way it was that easy, right? Luigi had fought his way through a whole amusement park’s worth of ghosts to get here to this now actually haunted ‘haunted’ house so there was no possible way this would be that easy, it had to be a trap. What kind though?

The room had clearly been a break room for the haunted house’s staff back when they’d run the place as a job. A table and some chairs off to one side and some vending machines off to the other. The path to Mario’s portrait was clear though and there wasn’t anything visibly amiss other than it. Where was King Boo though?

Luigi turned his head to look at Gooigi standing beside him. Sending them into a trap felt wrong but if anything happened to them, they’d automatically teleport back into the Poltergust strapped on Luigi’s back. How unpleasant or painful any part of the process was or could be, Luigi still didn’t know and with how many times it had happened, he was too afraid to ask and would rather not know. But regardless, Gooigi couldn’t die from taking damage or melting, meaning it made sense for them to go in first so… “You want to go investigate?”

They nodded before striding in without hesitation; fearless or really good at hiding their fear. They strode right up to Mario’s portrait and… nothing happened. If it was a trap, Gooigi hadn’t triggered it yet. Next, they switched on their dark light, shining it on Mario’s portrait. … Still nothing happened though, nothing at all. Either King Boo had found a way to make the dark light useless for freeing those he’d trapped in portraits or as was more likely the case, the portrait was fake. How odd? Why would there be a fake portrait in here?

Gooigi made a sound of distress as they switched their dark light on and off again, even giving it a little shake. They then twisted their head to look back at Luigi as if asking him for help.

Luigi glanced around the room before sighing and creeping a bit closer. There was still clearly something wrong here but… he wanted a better look.

“It’s fake,” he said upon reaching Gooigi’s side. Up close and better lit by their flashlights, it was clearly a normal painting, a very good one for sure, it captured Mario’s likeness almost perfectly but it was nothing more than paint on a canvas.

“Why?” Gooigi asked as they finally turned off their dark light.

“I’m not sure. It’s certainly very odd though, huh?” And still nothing was happening so maybe… it wasn’t a trap? “I wonder who painted it.” And why?

Visible but not quite legible from even this close was a tiny signature in the top right corner. Luigi stepped closer to read it. He had to get almost right up in front of the painting in order to do so. … “Boocasso,” he read aloud. “Well I guess we know it was-”

With the sound of ripping canvas something burst through the painting and into Luigi’s chest, making him cut off with a yelp. It thrust through him with enough force to push him back. He would’ve fallen but it was suddenly the only thing keeping him upright. It was a searing sharp pain, pushing all the way through his chest, making him want to scream and taking his breath away at the same time. Instinctively he grabbed at it, needing to pull it out but it was sharp, cutting through his gloves and into his hands too. A sword blade? How was that even possible? And it might’ve been his imagination but he could’ve sworn he felt its tip pushing against the Poltergust on his back, making the straps strain against his shoulders. That couldn’t be right though, no way was a sword sticking all the way through him.

King Boo’s distinct laugh filled his ears as the sword angled to push him upwards, lifting his feet off the ground. He choked and whimpered pitifully as gravity made him slide further down on its blade. Not much though because it was indeed pushing against the Poltergust now without a doubt.

“You like it?” King Boo asked with a smirk as he phased through the wall, pushing the painting, sword and Luigi forward too. His crown glowed bright, beams of light snaking off it to wrap around the sword’s hilt, levitating it. “I painted it myself. It took ages in part because it’s been a long time since I last painted something so realistic. I had very good reference though.” He chuckled as if it were a joke.

Luigi could only make breathless sounds of pain as the sword lifted further to point straight up. He grasped uselessly at it with his hands, the pain as it cut into his fingers and palms nothing compared to the pain of it pushing through his chest, making every miniscule movement, even breathing, agony. His blood oozed down its blade onto the now torn painting of Mario. He could taste it in the back of his throat too, nauseating and horrible.

Gooigi made a sound from somewhere off to Luigi’s right. He looked over just time in time to see King Boo throw a bucket of water on them; he’d come prepared. They melted instantly of course, reforming in the Poltergust on Luigi’s back, making it heavier which normally wasn’t an issue but suddenly was.

With a whimper Luigi reached for the dangling flashlight/vacuum nozzle. If he could press the button to free them again maybe they could help… somehow. Reaching for it hurt but… it was his only chance. He managed to grab the hose but…

“Nope,” King Boo said as the sword jostled him, making him let go with a gasp of pain. “None of that. Your little goo friend wouldn’t be able to help you anyway, they’re too weak and fragile. It’s gonna be just you and me in your final living moments. I thought about bringing Mario out to enjoy the show but I’m not taking any risks this time.”

Panting desperately for breath that didn’t seem anywhere close to enough, Luigi forced himself to look up at King Boo floating before him, looking far too pleased. He’d never hated anyone more than he hated King Boo. Not even Bowser was this awful.

“Fuck you.” It was all Luigi had the strength to say before cutting off with a cough that judging based off the awful coppery taste in his mouth brought up more than a little blood. He pawed more that the sword, now slick with his blood, desperately trying to release some of the pressure on his chest so he could breathe properly again. … It was futile.

King Boo laughed heartily, his massive tongue lolling out of his mouth. “This is your fault, you know?” he eventually said with a smug grin. “I didn’t want to kill you yet but after three attempts to capture you, you left me no other choice. So really, you have no one but yourself to blame.”

“You could’ve just… left.” That would’ve been easier for everyone.

Another chuckle. “And let the wrongs you and E. Gadd did me and my followers stand unavenged? Never.”

Luigi could’ve argued that it was King Boo who had started it, that if King Boo had just left them alone after any of his escapes, Luigi would’ve gladly left him alone too. But he lacked the strength to form the words so he just whimpered in misery instead.

“You’d die faster if I pulled the blade out, right?” King Boo asked. “Do you want me to?”

Luigi shook his head. It hurt and he couldn’t breathe right but he didn’t want to die. Not yet and not by King Boo’s hand. He still had so many things he wanted to do with his life and… he couldn’t leave Mario at King Boo’s mercy. He had to save him. But… but… he couldn’t, he couldn’t even save himself, let alone anyone else.

“Ah yes, you living and your illogical need to cling to life no matter what. I really don’t get the appeal. I suppose I could put you in a painting now, it would keep you alive. I’ve already committed to watching you die though so let’s get this over with. I don’t want to sit around for hours while you bleed out, I got stuff to do.”

The sword flipped over fast enough to force Luigi off it, making him cry out in pain as he hit the floor. What was left of the painting of Mario landed next to him with a clatter.

Despite the pressure from the sword being gone from his chest, breathing suddenly seemed even more difficult and painful. … Without the sword to act as a plug, he was drowning in his own blood. Warmth spread across his chest and back as blackness ate at the edge of his vision. Fighting it, he flopped over onto his side to try to at least push himself up onto his hands and knees. Standing didn’t seem possible though, running away certainly wasn’t. … Maybe Gooigi could though.

It took some work and he coughed up more blood while doing so but he managed to find the Poltergust’s hose. Before he could work the flashlight up into his hand though, it was ripped out his hand again with a flash of magic from King Boo.

“Still no,” he said. “You’re dying alone with only me as witness. Don’t worry though, I’ll tell E. Gadd all the details before I lock him up in a painting. I might even free Mario long enough to tell him about it.”

Hopeless, it was all so hopeless. Luigi had fallen for King Boo’s trap and now he was dying. He’d failed to save Mario, something he’d feared would be the case every time. All he could really hope for now was that E. Gadd and the Toads would be able to get away before King Boo came for them. It wasn’t much to hope for though, was it?

King boo said something more. More gloating no doubt but as the darkness continued to eat at Luigi’s vision it sounded too distant to be worth listening to.

…

He came to as if waking from an overly long sleep. He opened his eyes to a dark room. Despite that, he could see quite well. He seemed to be floating somehow, a body lay face down on the on the floor beneath him… the Poltergust on their back. … It was him! That was his body! That wasn’t possible! He couldn’t be… No way it was real. It was just a cruel trick… right?

King Boo laugh came from behind him. He snapped around to face him. He seemed bigger somehow, his presence more palpable. “I won’t lie, you’re almost cute as a boo.”

“What? I’m not… I can’t be…” He looked down at himself… more like tried to anyway. He didn’t seem to have much of a body to look at anymore. He had stubby white arms though, he could see those. And his last clear memory, he’d been dying, stabbed through the chest by a sword. His corpse was now basically right beneath him, he could see it clearly even in the dark. Meaning… he was a ghost? … A boo. Why a boo? What made someone a boo when they died?

“I was actually hoping this would happen.” King Boo’s grin was perhaps the smuggest it had ever been. “A boo, even a cute one, doesn’t make for a good portrait but it’s better than nothing.” From somewhere behind him, he levitated out an empty portrait.

Luigi should run… or do whatever the ghost equivalent of running away was. But… he looked back down at his corpse. Surely he couldn’t abandon it. There had to be a way he could still… No, there wasn’t, was there? … He should save Gooigi though and then run.

But it was too late; the portrait was already pulling him in. Suddenly his body and the Poltergust was furtherer away, his view of the room as a whole different angle and… he couldn’t move.

King Boo turned Luigi around to face him. “I finally have you, it’s about fucking time.” He said before dissolving into hearty laughter. “Now all I need is E. Gadd and my art collection will be complete. Maybe I’ll grab a few Toads too, just because.”

Not only was Luigi dead, he’d also been turned into a portrait and… there was no escape. King Boo really had won and there was no one left to save him or Mario especially if E. Gadd got taken too. Hopefully he wouldn’t be but… what were the chances of that? Not good, right? … And it was all Luigi’s fault for falling for King Boo’s obvious trap.

[paper-chain-queen]

Cherry Lip Gloss

Hatsuharu Sohma X Reader

Rating: Teen with slightly suggestive themes

Word Count : 1600+

Summary: Reader is a beauty vlogger and has been tagged in a challenge.

This is my first time writing a one-shot, XReader thing and got a little inspiration while watching YouTube. Even though Hatsuharu and Isuzu are one of my favortite manga ships, I just felt he would be fun for this little one-shot.

You rushed around the room getting ready, which included setting up the camera on a tripod, checking the shot to make sure Haru was in focus, and that nothing odd was in the frame.

Soft brown eyes looked around the bedroom, taking in all the different decor as you set everything up. You even made the bed properly, flattening out the sheets and organizing the pillows as it was in the shot and Haru assumed you didn't want people thinking you were messy or anything.

The bed had been made when he had gotten there. Granted, that had been a few hours ago, and few 'activities' had happened since then.

"You've got dirty in your eyes." You teased as you fluffed a pillow and placed it neatly on the bed, moving to the squishy cow plushie that had fallen on the floor and putting it back on the bed.

" Can't help it, I'm a healthy teenage boy with hormones." He simply stated, and you were tempted to throw a pillow at him but resisted.

You could feel Haru's eyes burning holes in you as you adjusted the camera and lighting, checking everything for a second time to make sure it looked good. You usually wouldn't be filming to late in the day, but Haru had come over unannounced, so there was a change in plans.

Well, you had mentioned to him that your parents were out of town for the weekend, and Haru had possibly seen a rare opportunity to be alone with you. Not that you were complaining.

You took a breath and fluffed out your hair a bit as you sat down next to Haru, who was already fidgeting with a tube of mascara on the low-table.

"Hello my lovelies, welcome back to my channel, today we have a super special guest, Haru-Kun." You smiled at the camera and then presented the handsome boy who only gave the nod to the camera, greeting your audience with a simple and polite, 'hello and thank you for having me.'

You were already sure that you were going to get a hundred comments just about how hot Haru was. Not that you could blame them in the slightest.

Hastuharu had a 'bad boy' look, but despite his tattoos and piercings that could make him look a little intimidating, he was the sweetest boy you knew. Well... he was sweet and polite for the majority of the time. His dark side was a whole other story. But you found yourself loving both because whether he was light or dark, he was still Haru, and you loved him.

"Thank you for tagging me to do this challenge, I am so excited, alas... I am single, BUT Haru-Kun offered to help me out anyway." You explained to your audience, it was a lie, but you and Haru simply couldn't be public about your romantic relationship due to his family.

You looked to your white and black haired boyfriend, asking for what had to be the 7th time if he was really okay with doing this. Hatsuharu was so kind, and you didn't want to pressure him into doing anything he wasn't comfortable doing.

"Do you not trust me?" He asked, slightly lifting an eyebrow but still maintaining his somewhat placid face.

"Of course I do." You did trust him with your life... you, however, didn't fully trust him to be able to do your make-up, but it would be fun.

"I've laid out all of my daily make-up along with a few other fun stuff." As you spoke, Haru started to stretch as if he were getting ready for a fight, and you had to stop yourself from laughing from his dead-pan face as he did so.

"Are you going to tell me what to do?" Haru asked, already looking a little overwhelmed just by picking up your eyelash curler as if it were some device from outer space.

"Nope!" You chirped, popping the 'P.' He pouted, and you had to stop yourself from leaning over and placing a kiss on his lips. He was just way too cute for his own good.

The boy looked over all the products, picking up one and then placing it down before picking up another.

"What's this?" He asked

"Moisturizer." At that, he pumped the bottle and squirted a bit of creme into his hands, then proceeding to gently massage it into your face. Haru was very gentle with you, which didn't surprise you one bit.

"And this?" Now he was just being ridiculous.

"... lip gloss." You gave him a look that said 'seriously' as you tried to fight off a smile.

"Ah.. I like this one." He smirked as he stared blatantly at your lips.

"Haru!" You whined as your face blew up red, and he only laughed softly, clearly enjoying tormenting you. Haru really needed to be more discrete if we wanted to keep you guys a secret.

"I'll save this for last..." He mentions as he places the cherry lip gloss down and picks up a bottle of your foundation.

He was surprisingly confident as he just squirted the bottle onto your face multiple times, you finally had to stop him after the 4th pump, asking him not to waste anything.

No words could describe the way you cringed when he picked up a blush brush and started to spread your foundation all over your face.

"What? Am I doing it right?" He asked as he pulled away the brush that had already worked its 'magic' on half of your face.

"You do whatever you feel is right." You told him, even though you really wanted to turn his attention towards your regular foundation brush.

While he looked for the next thing to do, you tapped on the table, trying to gesture to the blending sponge without being completely obvious.

"That is cheating, miss." He playfully scolded as he 'booped' you the nose with your now slightly ruined blush brush.

"Sir, I do not know what you are referring to... now pick up the sponge and blend out my face, please," you begged as you forced him to take the sponge into his hand, and he only smiled as he then just started hitting you in the face with the sponge, gently bouncing it on your face.

"This works a lot better...." He muttered as he continued to blend out your foundation, making it look a lot less streaky.

"Yeah, good call." You teased, unable to hide your smirk, and at that comment, you earned a pinch to your thigh, making you squeal.

You made a mental note to edit that out later.

"Next is... oh this, this goes right here." Homeboy picked out the brightest blush he could find in your collection and went in hard.

"Oh..."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you caught your reflection in the mirror on the table.

"Haruuuu." You whined and started laughing as Haru went back to hit you in the face with the make-up sponge, trying to fix his mistake, making the bright blush a little less atrocious.

It was fun watching him concentrate so hard on the task, his face completely serious as he applied your make-up. As he worked, you just simply enjoyed his handsome features.

When it came time to do your eyes, you were thankful for the comically bright blush because Haru cradled your face to do your eyeliner, your heart was beating a million miles a minute.

"Okay, look up," Haru instructed, getting a little more confident the more he worked, you followed his orders and let him apply your mascara.

Haru backed away, holding your chin in his hands, admiring his handiwork. Last but not least, he reached for the cherry lip gloss he had picked up earlier and then instead of putting it on you, applied it to his own lips.

"What are-" Haru didn't let you finish your sentence as he leaned towards you and gave you a deep kiss, the cherry lip gloss transferring from his lips to yours.

"Haru! We're filming!" You squealed as he continued to give you small, delicate kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

"You -can edit -it out later." He said in between kisses.

"You love creating extra work for me!" You tried to get mad at him, but Haru was making it impossible for you to think straight.

"Well, since you're already going to have to cut it out anyway.... might as well take advantage." The handsome boy smirked, his darker side coming out to play as he placed kisses from your collarbone, sucking softly on your neck and then bringing you in for a long, heated kiss on your lips. Haru's fingers trailed up your waist to your chest, gently feeling you up, causing a moan to erupt from your mouth as his hand slid under your sweatshirt.

"No bra.. naughty girl... let's give them something worth watching," Haru smirked as he carefully pushed you onto the ground as he hovered over you, ravishing you as much as his curse would allow.

Later, when you posted the challenge video, only a few people commented on how Haru's clothes were slightly dishevelled compared to the beginning of the video. You were just glad no one noticed the bite mark the boy left on your neck.

Haru had also been begging for the full unedited video, but you were holding it hostage in case you needed him for another video challenge.

Maybe next time he would let you do his make-up.

[writinginthedarkwood]

Yandere Himiko Toga x Shy Fem Reader: Anything for You.

Honestly this is pretty soft compared to some yandere pieces I’ve seen, but it took me forever to write and I’m proud of it! My requests are open!!

Warning: Smut, yandere

You get your coffee from the same place every morning. You’ve been enjoying a morning brew here for a couple months, you wake up, get dressed and bring a stack of papers to grade while you sip happily on your dark roast. You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, the past two day’s someone had already payed for your order by the time you got to the little shop.

She’d been staring at you with those bright eyes all morning. The beautiful blonde stirred sugar into her tea, she chewed on her lip while slowly circling the silver spoon around the rim of her cup, a little clink ringing out with every turn. You wanted to say something to her, but she couldn’t possibly have been the one to purchase your coffee... why would such a gorgeous woman want your attention?

You looked over at her again out of the corner of your eyes, she licked her lips after taking a short sip of her drink. She pointed a finger at you and curled it, motioning you to come to her table. You swallow hard and point to your chest. “Me?” You mouth silently to her.

A big smile spread over her lips, her Cheshire like grin sent your heart beating heavily, trying to jump out of your chest. You stood up and straightened out your pencil skirt, she looked up and down your body with obvious desire.

“Hi there cutie. Why don’t you come and sit with me?” She had a thick sweater on that’s long sleeves covered the better portion of her hands. Her long and dainty finger tips cupped the sides of her face as she leaned on her elbows. “Oh, uhm. Sure, let me grab my things.” You tried to straighten out the mess you had left on your table quickly, stuffing your students lab reports into your leather brief case.

You sat down in front of her and gave her a soft smile. “Did you need something miss?” You asked sweetly.

“I’ve been hoping to get your attention for a little bit now, but it looks like I needed a more direct approach to get your eyes out of all those papers.” A light blush sprinkled her cheeks and she bat her eyelashes at you. A blush covered your face, a bit more harshly than hers. “What did you need my attention for miss?”

She reached one hand out to touch your hand, her cold palm resting on top of your fingers. “Oh please darling, call me Himiko.” Her thumb rubbed light circles on your sensitive wrist. “I just really want to get to know you better. You’re so cute it’s annoying.”

The two of you talked for a little while, she asked a lot of questions about all the things you like, your family, your work. “But you look too young to be a professor...Especially something so science-y!” Her eyebrow raised when you told her you taught at a regular, non hero related university. “I guess that’s thanks to my quirk. I have heightened intelligence.” You looked down embarrassed, talking about your quirk made you insecure. Some people thought it was cheating that you moved through your education so quickly because of your quirk, it’s not your fault. “Wow you’d have to be super smart to teach what was it? Rocket science?” You think it’s cute how interested she is in your work and smile. “I teach astrophysics to graduates. It’s boring to most people, kids want to grow up and be hero’s, not scientists.”

Himiko rolled her eyes and made a gagging sound. “Well fuck that, people like you are the real hero’s. Educators are so underappreciated.” She dripped her words with honey, never taking her eyes off your face. “Did you go to school Himiko? I feel like we’re only talking about me.” You said with a small, nervous giggle. Himiko just shook her head with a grin. “I like talking about you! You’re so interesting Y/N.”

A brief intrusive thought interrupted your happiness. Who really is this woman? Why does she want to know so much about me? Himiko must have sensed your sudden hesitation. “It’s a bit embarrassing, but I didn’t ever finish school. I dropped out when I was really young.” She said with a light pout. “You’re so smart and cool, you don’t think any less of me now do you?” You squeezed her hand. “Of course not, are you doing any kind of work now?” Something flashed behind her eyes for a moment, a spark of something. Not many people can notice sudden bodily changes in other people, but you pick up on things other people might not. “I do odd jobs here and there. I have a friend who runs his own... business and I help him with that.” She bobbed her head up and down, satisfied with that answer.

“Himiko I’m going to ask you this in the most polite way I can...” You thought about a possible solution to why this gorgeous woman was vying for your attention so hard. She looked slightly nervous for a moment. “Are you a... sex worker...?”

You make quite a bit of money, it wasn’t impossible she had seen that magazine article about you that published recently.

Himiko burst into a fit of giggles, covering her mouth with her long sleeve. “No you goof! I’m just a normal, super cute girl. Most people don’t get what I do, so it’s easier to just say I help out my friends.” Your face burned red, horrified you’d even think to ask something like that. “I’m so sorry, if I have to be honest I’m not sure why you’d like me for anything other than my money.” Himiko stopped laughing and furrowed her brows. “Don’t even say that Y/N. For a smart girl, you’re kind of dumb.” She leaned in all the way across the table, putting her face right in front of yours. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but you’re insanely hot. I can’t get your pretty little body out of my head.” She practically purred, either unaware of the other occupants in the shop that are starting to stare, or she didn’t care.

You thought about leaning in and planting a kiss on her when your alarm on your watch went off, telling you it was time to head to the university for your first class.

“Can I take you on a date Himiko?” You blurted out while quickly grabbing all of your things. The blonde stood up and happily clapped her hands together. “Really Y/N? A date??” She beamed, clasping her hands together and holding them by her face, leaning her head to the side with big puppy dog eyes. “That would make me the happiest girl in the world!” She gushed. You couldn’t help but display a big goofy grin on your face. “Okay then... here.” You handed her your phone and Himiko put her phone number in it. “Send me your address and I can pick you up!”

Himiko was quick on her feet, she never faltered with her excuses. You didn’t think twice when she suggested you met her downtown so that you two could have a nice walk together. You thought it was sweet, that she was an angel. How did you ever get so lucky? You walked to the campus in a daze. Her face was burned in the back of your eyelids. You daydreamed about the restaurant you wanted to treat her too. There’s that really fancy Italian place with the expensive wine... Oh no how about that steak house where they always bring something to the table? Your train of thought went along uninterrupted, you felt like you were floating just above the pavement.

Himiko snickered to herself. “This is just too easy...” She muttered under her breath. You never even turned to see if anyone was following you, you never did. She’d been watching you for months, even going as far as to pick through your things in your office while you were teaching. She’d been tempted to leave you little love notes, but no. She had to be careful, you’re just so shy. She would never want you to mistake her for some kind of stalker. She loved sitting in your classroom watching you teach. It was such a turn on to see that pretty face talk about all of that nerd stuff. Who would she be today? That one bitch always talked to you too long. Visiting your office hours and interrupting your lunch. Was she trying to move in on her darling? Himiko wasn’t going to let that ruin her mood. It’s not your fault you’re so perfect. “That bitch is going to get it...” She pictured your students contorted face in her head. The way she would scream as Himiko’s knife cut through her neck. She might even cut her enough that stupid girl would die, it’s not like anyone would miss her pathetic ass. Himiko watched you fumble to put your reading glasses on, you dropped the frames and they hit the side walk. “Is it me that has you so distracted baby? You silly girl...” She purred under her breath. You bent down to pick them up, a man walking by did a double take, leering at your ass as you bent down. Himiko rolled her eyes. Men can be so disgusting, they always disappoint her. Not you though, no your the first girl you ever made her feel this way. You care about her, you had too. Nobody could see through her disguises, but the way you looked her in the way while you spoke, it was like you knew you were looking into the eyes of your soul mate.

That pig walked down the street, Himiko stuck her foot out and tripped him. He tumbled forward and looked around to see who had the nerve to bother him with a scowel.

No one was around.

You pulled up the wrong slide show for your lecture. You started teaching the wrong chapter before one of your more participating students chimed in. You apologized and the right thing loaded on the board. “Doctor Y/L/N, you seem distracted. Something on your mind?” You liked all of your students. This girl was always chatty, and asked plenty of questions. However, this sentence sort of struck a cord with you. It seemed a bit out of character, she was always very shy and stuttered often, only daring to ever talk about the topic. You were too happy to think too much about it. “Oh I just had a really pleasant morning is all. Let’s get back to chapter 49.”

You rushed home and showered, blow drying your hair and trying to apply some makeup that didn’t make it look like you were trying too hard, where the hell is that lip gloss that’s clear? Your thoughts felt frantic. A message popped up on your phone letting you know that the car was here to pick you up and take you downtown. You shot yourself another glance in the mirror and took a deep breath. Your outfit was pretty cute, you sported your favorite outfit. A plain gray pencil skirt and a white blouse. You spiced things up with a platform heel, you grabbed your jacket and purse and rushed out the door.

“Wow Y/N that’s a fancy car!” Himiko stole your breath. You hardly made it out of the car before she hooked onto your arm, giving your upper arm a side squeeze. She was wearing a tight, strapless blood red dress with matching lipstick and heels. She let her long blonde hair down and had drawn on eyeliner that matched her cat like iris’. “Himiko you look beautiful.” You managed to stammer out. She bat her long lashes at you and tipped her head up to kiss your cheek. She left just a light peck on you, you blushed and touched your face. “So where are you taking me, sugar?” She looked around the plaza. Bright lights bounced off of her eyes as she drank up the sights, busy people rushing to the different shops and restaurants.

It’s been awhile sense Himiko has been able to walk freely in public. She usually stuck to the shadows, wearing another persons face constantly has helped her hide over the years. The last thing she would need is for someone to interrupt phase one of her master plan.

“I have the worst time making decisions... there’s a pretty popular place called Aragawa... and a restaurant that serves French food too.” You wanted to impress her, but you didn’t want to look like a show off. “Those places sound expensive Y/N! Are you sure?” She looked at you with complete adoration. You wondered how no one has ever treated her to something like this before. “Of course I’m sure... there’s something about you I can’t put my finger on, but I know your special Himiko.”

If only you knew.

You two settled on a pricey Italian restaurant, Himiko had never tried pasta like this before. The waiter brought red wine to the table, Himiko swirled her glass around and looked at you with a haze over her eyes. She licked her teeth and shifted on her side of the leather booth. “Is the wine okay Miko?” You had thought of calling each other cutsie names, she lovingly has called you darling all night. Things were moving quickly between you two, somehow everything you said she agreed with and loved too. You had the same favorite movie and T.V. shows, she listened to some of your obscure music choices and even understood some of your more nerdy references. It was like you two were made for each other.

“Hold out your hand under the table, darling.” She purred through ruby lips. “Uh-uh okay. You’re so silly-”

Your face burned bright red. She handed you a small amount of cloth. You looked at your hands, it was her black lacy thong. Thin enough you wouldn’t even call this suitable underwear... what would this even cover?

“How fast can that driver of yours come pick us up?” She hooked your ankle with her own foot and uncrossed your legs. “Slip yours off. I want them.” She gently commanded you. “My car can get here through traffic in probably a half an hour...” You started to text your driver when she snatched your phone out of your hand. “That’s too long. Let’s just walk...” She bit her bottom lip and ran her nails along your arm. “Waiter! I’ll be taking the check now...” The waiter nodded politely and headed for your table. “Your panties darling...” She said a bit more stern, but with a wicked smile on her face. You looked at the wait staff around and the small intimate gathering of people. You nervously shimmied out of your own pair, pulling it off of your ankles and handing it to Himiko. She studied them for a second a bit too close to the the lip of the table where people could see. She opened her small clutch and folded them up, stuffing them inside with no intention of ever giving them back.

The two of you walked hand in hand down the street. You told a joke and Himiko laughed so hard she had to stop walking for a minute.

“Well well well...” A dark voice called from behind. You jumped, knocked out of your trance. Himiko’s body went rigid. You turned to see who had called out to the two of you. “What are you ladies walking around so late for?” The man was covered in scars. It seemed like the majority of his body was burned, deep purple scars sat under his eyes and covered half of face and all of his neck. He leaned against the wall.

Is this a villain? You wanted to move and protect Himiko, but you stood frozen on the sidewalk. “Leave us alone.” Himiko said with a sickeningly sweet tone. “Can’t you see we’re busy here?” She almost sang.

“I can see a lot of things. Pretty interesting what I’m looking at actually.” He smirked, Himiko still stood with her back to him. Her shoulders were tense and she clenched both her hands into her fist.

Was he following me? The league was working the next city over, why would he follow me after I explicitly said I was busy? Himiko seethed. He’s going to mess everything up!

“H-himiko we should j-ust go.” You couldn’t help but cower a bit. His eyes were startling, they pierced through you. He pushed himself off of the wall and approached you two. He kept his shoulders slack and opened his arms wide. “Go? Aw come on don’t go, you two are pretty cute. Why don’t we all go somewhere and have a chat...” He stuck out his hand to touch you, it was like time was moving slowly, yet everything happened within just a few seconds. Himiko spun her heel, revealing that she had been carrying a knife that was strapped to her thigh. She grabbed the mans arm and threw him against the wall, she pressed her knife to his neck and smiled. “I said that we’re not interested. Get. Lost.”

The man just sighed and shrugged. “Alright fine. Message received.” Himiko dropped her fighting stance and the man started to turn on his heel. “Would be a shame if anyone else found out about this. Not my problem though.”

You had tears welled in your eyes. Himiko put the knife back into it’s holster and cradled your face. “Oh baby, baby girl don’t cry I’m so sorry!” She wiped a stray tear away from your face.

“I didn’t mean to-” Himiko was terrified she had blown this. She had one shot to get this perfect and her line of work always had a way to worm itself into her personal business. Before she could even muster up a type of explanation, you interrupted. “Himiko do you think that man is going to try and twist this date around in the tabloids as something wrong? He said he was going to tell others...” You had a well respected position, you’ve been published multiple times. You didn’t think you were a celebrity by any means, but you didn’t want anything to happen to your job if someone were to spread a rumor about you.

Himiko almost sighed in relief.  She thought for sure you would put together that she knew the “stranger” but you hadn’t. It was like you were the smartest person in the world, except when it came to her.

Even plugging in her first name “Himiko” to google her criminal profile might pop up. “Everything will be perfectly fine honey. Let’s go back to your place and watch a movie.”

Himiko gasped when you opened the door to your apartment. It was immaculately clean, but that wasn’t what impressed her. It was high rise, the window was huge and slid open to a gorgeous balcony. It was a sizeable space with luxury furniture.

She stepped inside and twirled around. “Wow darling, it’s beautiful.” She instantly started playing with your things, picking up the magazines on your coffee table. Touching your nick nacks and studying them. Himiko was ecstatic, she’d been in here so many times while you slept. She hadn’t been able to go through a lot of your things, she was worried you would get mad that she messed up your organization. Now that you two are so much closer, she can finally take a look at all of the things that keep you busy when you aren’t studying or teaching. “It’s nothing special, I’m sure your place is nice too Miko.” She was touching a daisy you had in a modern looking vase, her look got a little distant for a moment. “Are you alright?” You stepped towards her and she flashed you a smile. “Of course! I have to travel for work a lot so I’m between places.” She looked around at the nice space around her. “I guess I’m just looking for some stability you know? It was nice when I was younger but I think I’m ready to settle down, you know?” You nodded your head and kissed her forehead. “That’s really mature. Life goes by so fast doesn’t it? My job has aged me so much.” She snuggled into your chest. “I think I’ve even seen a grey hair on my head...” Himiko giggled.

You showed Himiko around your place room by room. She lingered in your bedroom for a minute, she was resisting the urge to tear into your dressers and go through all of your clothes. She stood politely by your side, and when you opened the master bathroom she followed a few steps behind.

“It looks like a spa in here!” She was astonished. Your few makeup products were scattered on a large sink counter. You had a stand alone shower and a jacuzzi bathtub. She turned around and grabbed the collar of your blouse. “I have a naughty idea...” You could still smell the wine on her breath. She placed a sweet kiss on you and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and enjoy it for a moment. She pulled away, nibbling on your lip. “We should take a bath together.”

Both of you laid back while the jets massaged your bodies. Himiko playfully dumped almost the whole bottle of bubble bath into the water. You had your eyes closed, looking relaxed but truthfully you’ve never been more nervous. Himiko squealed when she saw you undress, gushing about how cute you are.

Her hand touched your thigh and your eyes shot open. She was staring at you intently. She pushed herself closer to you, her breasts pressed against your own. Himiko kissed your neck and you whimpered. “Oh cutie I want to make you purr so bad~” She nipped at your jaw and pressed her fingers around your hardened nipple.

The water sloshed around the rim of the tub, Himiko had you pressed against the porcelain wall, she held your leg in the hook of her arm. She rubbed herself against your throbbing pussy. She relentlessly caused friction on your swollen clit, you held onto the edge of the jacuzzi for stability. Himiko laughed between her own moans. “Your face is so cute. Cum for me baby please- I want to see the face you make when you cum.” She gasped and moaned wildly, she almost screamed, her noises becoming manic. You could hardly move, you hadn’t felt this type of stimulation before, it was almost too much. “I- I’m going to cum M-miko I can’t take it!” She moved her hips frantically and you spilled over the edge. You called her name out and she slowed down a bit, both of you were slightly out of breath. Himiko let your leg go and kissed you softly.

Himiko and you watched a horror movie in your bed. You snuggled under the blankets, Himiko picked the movie. It was sort of gory, you didn’t really like this sort of thing but for some reason it was one of Himiko’s favorites.

It’d been about two months. At this point, you two were together every day now. You’d meet for coffee before you went to work, and she’d come by your apartment at night for dinner. On the weekends the two of you took little day trips, Himiko hadn’t seen a lot of the major tourist places in your area which surprised you. She visited you at work a few times, she added an intense spice to your life. She practically threw you into your office during your lunch hour and ravaged you, clawing at you desperately. Every time the two of you were intimate she acted like you would slip through her fingers, she was wild and a delicious lover.

Himiko couldn’t be happier with how things were turning out. This was following her plan almost exactly, but she was running out of time. Dabi had done her a kindness by not mentioning you to anyone else. But it was a matter of time before she couldn’t make any excuses anymore. Other members were catching on that she was disappearing for long periods of time, that her loyalties were fading.

It was time for phase two of her plan.

“Himiko we have to talk about something serious.” You were shaking you were so nervous. Things were getting serious between you too, you didn’t want this to end. “What’s wrong my darling?” Himiko knew exactly what you were about to say, she calculated this down to the exact sentence. She knew you so well she knew you would be terrified to bring this up. “I got a really crazy job offer outside of the country.” Himiko had been practicing in the mirror what face she would make. A face of concern, but not too sad. “I can’t take it, it’s a ton of money and it’s the job of a lifetime... but...”

Come on just say it baby... Himiko was great at masking her excitement.

“I can’t take it. I love you, I know it’s kind of early but I love you so much. I can’t imagine leaving you here.”

Jackpot.

She gave you a moment to finish your piece, but she didn’t hesitate to gush about how much she loves you too.

“Y/N... I think you should take it.” She took your hand and smiled.

“Wh-what? I can’t leave you.” You thought for a moment. “Himiko I think that maybe, we should go. Together.”

Finally, her ticket out. A life on the run, a life underground was fun while it lasted but finally. She could have a family, a new life across the ocean. Nobody would know her name, she would be your trophy wife. One you could parade proudly at high profile events. More importantly, more than anything.

You would be all hers, she could give you all of her time.

You’d buy first class tickets under your name, she had already a fake passport. It was easy to black mail that stupid scientist in Switzerland, he lost his job and she sent in your application at the perfect time. If they hadn’t offered you the job she’d just keep going down the line, taking out anyone who stood in your way.

The minute she first saw you, she knew you two were meant to be together at all costs. Nothing mattered, but you two.

You two packed up everything in your apartment that week. You and Himiko bought matching rings, and matching cozy clothes to wear on the plane. Himiko had a head ache that day, she wore sunglasses on the plane and an oversized beanie. Poor thing wasn’t feeling great and stayed quiet for the long trip. She laid on your shoulder and you two cuddled the entire ride.

“I’m so happy Y/N, this is everything I could have ever dreamed of.”

[rabldcur-a]

Domhnall Skywalker theory?

Hi welcome to Game Theory, I will be playing the role of Matpat. This isn't my theory but stuff I pulled off of forums and Reddit, y’all encouraged this.

Okay, so the rumors started out with Jesse Plemons audition for episode 7 for the role of Hux, many people speculated he was going to play Luke’s son because he's somewhat resembled Mark Hamill, however, he quickly lost the role to Domhnall Gleeson. Odd how JJ mainly looked at gingers for the role of Hux despite never having concept art for him until after the casting, with Ben Skywalker is a ginger with freckles both of them matches that description. The rumors carried over given that Donut looks so much more like Mark in many people's opinions;

Of course doesn't help when Mark Hamill likes the Tweet when people compare the two’s looks, Donut even went on to say in an interview that he does think he looks like Mark.

People went on to point out that Hux’s uniform looks vaguely like Luke’s black outfits in the last two movies:

Mainly the collar and boots and how his tunic has pleading better seen in Rise of Skywalker: 

Personally, I don't see it in the uniform, but that's not the reason for this position anyway. Ex Machina was released in the same year as Force awakens, many people thought he was going to play a 26 year old with this haircut:

The Skywalker bowl cut(tm). Speculation picked up when making of Star Wars and the radio show Rebel Force Radio dropped a leaked synopsis of Donut’s character: “ Gleeson’s character is playing both sides to disarm the galaxy of its super weapons held by both sides which “should not be allowed to exist according to his internal moral compass.” But it appears he might do some bad things in the name of the greater good over the course of the film. ” ( Various amount of new websites went on to report this synopsis such as; whatculture, cinemablend, and screenrant. )

They both go on to claim that they have multiple sources that say “ Domhnall Gleeson is Luke Skywalker’s son four different times” three reliable sources, one new. “ So either Gleeson is the son of Skywalker in The Force Awakens or someone prominent in the production is spreading misinformation.”  many people went on to run with this theory claiming he was only a part of the First Order to keep an eye on his cousin, however, after the Last Jedi many people starting speculation if he even knew he was a Skywalker. 

Many people gave up on this after the book gave Hux an actual backstory, but upon hearing that Brendol Hux kidnaps force sensitive children for the Stormtrooper program and hearing that Armitage went through the same training, having a no-name mother, and being hated for simply existing, people started building upon that. Why was he in charge of Starkiller base when he has no connection to the Skywalkers? (Starkiller being Luke's original last name but was changed later on.) Why did Gallius Rax (who was Mentored by Darth Sidious himself) go out of his way to make sure a weak willed, slip of a boy was rescued from the siege of Arkanis and place in high power early in life? Why was an unimportant general able to speak with Snoke directly? Why was he randomly trying to use the force in the Duel of Fate script??

With the name like Rise of Skywalker many people thought this would be it, surely the twist will come in this one. They then go on to  say; Palpatine returns and seeks out revenge against Luke for his defeat at Endor by using his own blood in the form of Ben solo and Armitage, both Kylo and Hux would go on to fight against Rey and Finn. Of course that didn't happen, and many were upset by Hux's death.

This theory mainly focuses on Luke however he does have some resemblance to Mara Jade:

Jade’s master died and caused her to go rogue, eventually becoming a smuggler. Snoke’s death caused Hux to go rogue and became a Resistance spy. So they both have somewhat of the same decision-making skills which is somewhat interesting, Surly when I actually finished these books I will have more examples of similarities, but until then I bid you adieu cuz I'm tired of writing.

[makeitquietly]

A quick recap of what criticism I remember reading about this Blu-ray set: nobody agrees about the picture quality, or on which films it’s best/worst, but it’s on the waxy/soft side mostly because of too much digital cleaning or whatever, the sound is said to be good, some hissing, out of sync in the 1936 version of Berth Marks, extras are good too, no Blu-ray logo on the case, no booklet, awkward menu always reverts back to beginning, no play-all possibility, the films are not in the order of making/release.

But a lot of people worked very hard for a long time to make this set available. Which is why nothing negative should be said about it? Eh. Next time go for quality instead. Or don’t sell your product. Make it a fanwork.

Anyhow, if I was all powerful and had commissioned someone to restore these films, I’d make them go back and do it again if this set was presented to my ruling eyes.

OTOH, I paid 99 euros for this package and have had lots of fun with it and if there’d been Stan’s scrapbook (pages) amongst the galleries, I’d happily paid double. It’s not about the money spent except when people imply that negative reviews aren’t allowed. I’d paid 99 euros for the galleries alone.

It’s about the fact that the films aren’t as well restored as they should/could be. Beyond me, why it’s so difficult to admit. And it’s clearly not only an issue of getting waxified during some final cleanup or somehow being ruined when transferred to Blu-ray disks.

Any idiot (me) knowing nothing about the processes involved can easily confirm this by watching how different films on the same disk have different quality, likewise first reel can be almost okay, the second much worse, scenes and cuts have often annoyingly varying quality, even single frames look like they came from different prints and nothing was done to make them fit more seamlessly in their surroundings. And I’m not talking about that one wandering frame in Scram!, which must be some person’s idea of a joke, how else could it be so out of place?

Or didn’t anyone watch these that one last important time since it wasn’t removed, nor were the countless spots still there in most of the films? I know, when things get cleaned up that one remaining crumb is much easier to spot... er... see my point?

There are also jumpy frames, which I imagine would’ve been easy to adjust, and to prevent those ubiquitous flashy cuts, you’d only needed to adjust the brightness of that single frame causing the flashing. Even I have done that on GIMP when making gifs. I’m guessing too much contrast on, say, Me and My Pal isn’t a problem created by the wax people either.

The ridiculously softly glowing Brats might be, there’s an awful lot of glowing in One Good Turn too, and in parts of Sons of the Desert, for example, where faces are dangerously close to have that overly scrubbed look, which is a big problem in The Chimp and Come Clean.

When it comes to wax, Helpmates and County Hospital are the most hideous, the latter must be the worst looking of all the films in this set, being also awfully spotty as well as too dark. It’s got other faults too, like wonky frames. The Music Box has a pretty decent first reel (except for the opening scene), and despite not being able to see the stripes on Stan’s and Ollie’s pants because of too much contrast, Me and My Pal is also clearly better wax-wise in the first reel.

It’s interesting to watch some of these films for the first time, thinking that this is crap quality picture, but then the second reel is even worse and suddenly there’s a whole new level of crappiness.

I think the sound is ever so slightly out of sync for a bit in Way Out West and One Good Turn. At least it is compared to those same films on my 21 DVD set. In addition to being very clearly out of sync in that Berth Marks reissue like others have noticed. Berth Marks also has a weird stripey “cover” over the actual film. I suppose it was impossible to remove.

Even with some sync problems, if I had to choose the best restorations from this new collection, Way Out West would be on my list, together with Busy Bodies, Hog Wild and Towed in a Hole. Some parts of Sons of the Desert look gorgeous. With grain and all. Pretty much like Atoll K but unfortunately not as consistently. (Atoll K was restored by different people, I gather.)

The much anticipated but already online for free since 2019 The Battle of the Century then? Well, the first reel is quite good, or would be if it wasn’t a weird blend of an ugly greenish yellow or yellowish green. Sepia isn’t what it used to be. And I would’ve thought they’d made sure to get all those black spots removed at least from this one what with it being one of the “new” things on this set. The second reel is worse except colour-wise. But at least it’s there complete with Charlie Hall and the “what pie fight” ending.

Haven’t mentioned The Midnight Patrol, Their First Mistake or Twice Two yet. The last two are pretty evenly waxy, and comparing The Midnight Patrol to Come Clean and The Chimp makes it not that bad. There’s no actual need to bleach faces or an excuse for Billy Gilbert’s patternless shirt, is there?

For me the treasures from this set can be found on each disk under galleries. Even for those not interested in scripts, press material, posters and assorted documents, there are circa 1,400 photos, many of which really are rare, or at least I’d never seen them before. One of the gems are the about 140 photos from Babe’s Vim days. Awesome! Nothing as gemmy from Stan’s past before Laurel and Hardy, and someone put wrong names on the photos where he appears with the Hurleys, not the Cookes. Yes, there’s a short, handy description for most of the photos. 

So many of them and I must peruse more, of course, but I’m going give a special mention to Stan with both Loises on the set of Brats for adorableness and likewise to Thelma Todd for previously unseen (by me) variations from her photoshoot on that bathroom set. Love the six new-to-me photos of Stan and Babe together on the 1932 British tour especially. Great stuff. Oh, and Mae Busch, Dorothy Christy and Charley Chase in their Sons of the Desert portraits look fabulous.

Another treasure are the interviews with only a couple of slightly dubious moments. Joe Rock made me grin. George Marshall made me cry. Walter Woolf King made me laugh. Most wonderful. Short introduction by Randy Skretvedt for each interview. He’s the one who did the interviewing too. There’s 15 of them altogether. Plus a chance to hear composer Marvin Hatley perform Honolulu Baby and Will You Be My Lovey-Dovey. The audio only interviews come with some more great photos.

I kind of adore how Richard W. Bann casually debunks Anita Garvin’s The Battle of the Century story with one dry line during his commentary of the film. Hurts so good. Let’s have more debunking!

Speaking of the commentaries, and maybe more about them on some other occasion, Bann only comments The Battle and The Music Box, all the rest, including That’s That and The Tree in a Test Tube have commentaries by Randy Skretvedt.

I was expecting Bann to tell the whole story of why it took so long to get The Battle on video but he didn’t; fair enough, I thought, but then in his other commentary he goes on about his grudge with a dead guy, so I guess it was not his, um, politeness that stopped him from dishing on the much more recent and therefore interesting stuff. What then?

Perhaps a third person sharing the commentary duties would’ve been a good idea. That was my thought when Skretvedt obsessed over Stan’s smoking for the third time. By obsessed I mean he listed all the films where, according to him, Stan smokes. What for, you may wonder. I did. No answer. I remember reading somewhere that Stan not smoking in the movies means he’s a child. (Yes, some Laurel and Hardy fans are somewhat weird sometimes. Aren’t we all?) Maybe Skretvedt was trying to debunk that theory? Hehe, okay, I know he wasn’t, because he did the “they’re children, Hal Roach said so” routine in his Their First Mistake commentary, complete with Charles Barr quotes to prove there’s nothing gay about Ollie liking Stan more than his own wife. Made me fume. I don’t know why. Nothing new.

I don’t know why it doesn’t occur to him that if Ollie didn’t spend so much time with Stan, Mae wouldn’t be the lonely, disappointed wife who ends up wanting a divorce after one too many lies from Ollie and accuses Stan of alienation of Ollie’s affections. But no, apparently it’s no wonder that Ollie likes Stan more than his wife because she hits him with the broom. So the hitting came first and then too much time spent with Stan? I don’t think so.

Anyhow, third person, more variety, something newer, or at least an explanation for Stan’s smoking being of particular importance. Ollie’s smoking isn’t mentioned. Also, to digress even more, I always found the claim that Stan doesn’t smoke because he is a child odd, not only because he does, but also because he drinks alcohol too and manages to be married in several films. But the Laurel & Hardy child squad of course thinks the wives are actually their mothers. (Yes & again, weird.)

I did and do also wonder if there would’ve been anyone available and even if there had been, if these old school fans had accepted someone with different views. Probably not.

Still waiting for Skretvedt to notice Stan’s camera looks. Maybe he just hasn’t been a fan for long enough yet... 😛

I’m out of steam now. Need to rehydrate.

One more thing: No booklet, so maybe nobody involved wanted to spread about their name more than absolutely necessary knowing the restoration work was, shall we say, uneven?

Tl;dr: Uneven restoration work. Great extras. Mostly interesting commentaries.

[thinkyoureholy]

Fragile Figures [3]

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Pairing : Choi San / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Mafia! AU, Hired Assassin! AU

Words : 4k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

  -Y/N's P.O.V-

I stared at the door to my office intently, my mind in shambles. It had been weeks, weeks, since that kiss with San and I have never felt more conflicted in my life. On one hand that kiss felt so amazing I wanted nothing more than to drag him into this room and fuck him on the desk until neither of us could move but on the other hand I wanted to slap the shit out of him and ban him from ever coming here again. What infuriates me the most is that he's acting like nothing happened. What’s worse is that he’s been gone for a few weeks and all I can think about is that damned kiss and those last few words he said to me before he left.

-3 Weeks Ago-

I leaned against the door frame, crossing my arms over my chest as I stared over at San who was saying his farewells to the guys. He came to me saying he’d be out of reach for the next few weeks, a few clients needed his services and he couldn’t possibly refuse, or so he says. He went on about them being his top paying clients, saying they didn’t call him often but when they did they offered him five times more than what he charged, the only con is that these jobs would usually take place outside of the country so he had to leave for weeks, even months at a time. 

I have no idea why he felt the need to tell me all this, I only paid him when I needed him and even then those times are becoming less and less with each passing day. He’s done such a good job I haven’t had the need to give him another name. Yunho had hinted at giving Kanda’s name but I refused. Kanda was mine to kill. I wanted my face to be the last thing he ever saw.

“Here to see me off, darling?” 

San’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, my eyes focusing in on his face. A smug smile pulled at the corners of his lips when our eyes met, a scoff falling from my lips at the sight of it.

“Yeah, here to see that you finally get off my property.” I sneered, pushing myself off the door frame.

He chuckled at my words, clasping his hands behind his back as he took a step forward, the distance between us no more than a few inches. I felt my heart speed up at our close proximity, a curse sounding loudly in my head at the feeling of my stupid heart. He must’ve known what he was doing to me as he stared at me with eyes that shone so brightly I could hardly keep up the eye contact but I refused to look away. He chuckled once more after another few seconds of his staring, showing me a toothy grin.

“Aw c’mon now, darling. I know you just love having me around.” He teased, leaning forward ever so slightly. 

I set my jaw, ignoring the way my heart skipped a beat, "Is that so?"

He nodded, tilting his head to the side the tiniest amount. His eyes scanned my face, lingering on my lips. His tongue darted out to swipe across his bottom lip for a moment before he lifted his gaze to meet my eyes once more.

"If you didn't want me around you'd have your boys chase me out of here and they'd do it the moment you gave the order, no questions asked. In fact, my good friend Yunho would be the first to shove me out the door too...isn't that right?"

I said nothing, keeping my mouth shut as he let out a deep breath before continuing.

He grinned, almost devilishly as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the skin of my ear, "Believe me if it was anyone else I'd have disappeared already...but there's something about you that intrigues me. And I plan on sticking around until I've satisfied my curiosity."

He chuckled softly at the way I tensed up at his words, his breath hitting my skin. And before I could pull away to give him my deadliest glare he placed a lingering kiss to the spot just below my ear, the action causing a blush to spread across my cheeks. He finally pulled away on his own after a moment, his fingers tucking themselves under my chin, asking for my attention as he gazed into my eyes.

"I'll be back in a few weeks time, a month at the most...don't go getting yourself killed before I get back because when I finally get back…" He trailed off, his thumb swiping across my bottom lip, "I'm finally going to kiss you while sober...and judging by the look in your eyes, I won't be the one that'll be making the first move either."

-present time-

I groaned as I buried my face in my hands, shaking my head to rid myself of those memories. I must've been so far in my head that I didn't hear the door open, only noticing someone else was in the room when they knocked on the desk. My head shot up at the sound, my eyes meeting Yunho's. 

"What's gotten into you?" He asked, raising a brow.

I groaned once more, rubbing my hands over my face as I sat back, "Nothing...nothing at all."

"Okay…" He trailed off, not buying my excuse but he let it go for the time being, "Anyways...I've managed to track Kanda down."

My ears perked up at the sound of that, my hands coming down to rest on my lap as I looked up at him, "You've been tracking him?"

Yunho shuffled on his feet nervously, bowing his head slightly at the look I was giving him. I had given each and every one of them strict orders to not do anything against Kanda, I didn't want him figuring it out and hunting them down. I set my jaw at the thought of any of them disobeying me. I didn't have many rules but when it came to Kanda I was as strict as can be. It disappointed me when they didn't follow the few things I asked of them. 

"Yunho-"

"Y/N, I didn't get caught. I was careful and look I even got some good information." He cut my off quickly, handing me a folder but I didn't take it. 

I simply stared down at his outstretched hand, a frown etched onto my face. After a few seconds of me not taking it he set it down. I inhaled sharply, trying to control myself and not lash out at him but that idea flew out the window when he spoke up again.

"Y/N you can't do this on your own…"

"And why the hell not?" I spat out, finally looking up at him with my deadliest glare, "You think I'm incapable of tracking this son of a bitch down on my own? You think I'll die if I try?"

"I didn't say that." He said with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

"Then what? Look Yunho, I don't ask much of any of you, you especially, but you deliberately go against the one order I have given you. This is the one thing you can not go against me on, I won't allow it."

"But-"

"No! Don't you understand?! I won't lose you!" I shouted, cutting him off as I rose to my feet, slamming my hands down on the desk, "I can't...lose any of you. I'm done burying people…"

Yunho looked down, swallowing his words once he saw the look in my eyes. I stared at him for a moment longer before a heavy sigh fell from my lips, relaxing my tense shoulders.

"I want you to forget about Kanda for now, that’s an order."

"You know I can't do that, Y/N, not after everything he's done to you." He muttered under his breath.

I opened my mouth to scold him once more but before I could get a word out he turned on his heel and walked straight out of my office. I set my jaw at his disobedience, swiping my arm across the top of my desk in a bout of anger. Everything that lay on top of the desk now lay on the ground, all the papers were strewn all over the place. I plopped down into my seat, rubbing my hands over my face. Not only was this San stuff plaguing my mind but now I had to deal with Yunho trying to go after Kanda on his own. I know Yunho just wanted to help and I was grateful but at the end of the day I wanted him to stay as far away from this whole Kanda business as possible. I groaned low in my throat and stared down at the papers that were scattered on the floor, a few words on top of the paper that lay on top of the pile catching my eyes. My whole body relaxed as I let out a breathy sigh, leaning back in my chair as my face softened.

Ilsan

That idiot...he’s a lot closer than I thought. I reached down and grabbed the piece of paper, reading over what he had written. I couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of my lips as I pulled out a folder from one of the desk drawers. I opened it up and compared it to the piece of paper, seeing that they were almost identical. It was scary how the two of us thought so similarly but at the same time this was one of the reasons why Yunho was so valuable to me. I was planning on going after Kanda by the end of the week after I gathered some more information but after seeing this I’d have to do it much sooner than planned.

……

I pulled the hood of my sweater over my head as I walked through the dark streets of Ilsan. I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I looked up at the building in front of me with a frown. Kanda really picked one hell of a place to hide out in. Ilsan wasn't a dump by any means but the apartment building I was now looking up at had seen better days. 

I set my jaw as I stared at a window on the second floor, seeing only one apartment lit up. I had done a little digging into this apartment building and it's residents only to find out less than five people were renting a place here. I found it odd how there were so little people at a place that had about thirty apartments open and unused. But this just raised suspicions. Something must be going on here for there to only be five people paying rent here, Kanda being one of them. There was no doubt in my mind that if something fishy was going on here it was because of Kanda's doing.

With a sigh I headed into the building, noting how dimly lit the first floor was. I clutched onto the switch knife in my pocket tightly, ready to pull it out at any minute. My eyes darted around the room quickly, checking all my exits and evaluating my surroundings. The one skill I can say that I'm proud of is my ability to scan an area quickly to assess any threats that might be in the area. On this first floor I saw no such threat, the floor was completely empty. I kept my guard up nonetheless, very aware of the metal of my gun pressing up against my back, the pistol tucked safely into the waistband of my jeans. 

It took me no less than a minute to get to the second floor, standing before the door I knew Kanda was behind. If my intel was correct he should be here. I inhaled sharply, taking a step back to give myself some room to kick the door open but before I could do so I paused, thinking back to Yunho. 

‘Sorry Yun...this is one you’ll have to sit out of.’

With that as my last thought I kicked down the door, the door slamming against the wall behind it, the wood of the door frame splintered by the forced entry. I pulled out my gun and walked into the apartment, noticing how quiet it was. I had barely gotten through the front door when a hand wrapped around my wrist, yanking me further into the apartment. I was thrown to the floor but I didn’t stay down for longer. I rolled over my own shoulder, facing them as I kneeled before them stared up at him, my eyes narrowing as they met Kanda’s sharp ones. He smirked, pointing a gun at me. The look on his face told me he was expecting me. He either must have eyes on me, tracking my every move or he had security cameras set up in this building. I really want the first option to be a lie, formed by my own paranoia, choosing to believe in the second option.

"Pretty gutsy of you to come to me don't you think?"

I grit my teeth at seeing the grin on his face, "I'd say I kept you waiting far too long."

He chuckled at that, his eyes shining as he stared down at me, "Well I can't say I didn't expect it. How's Yunho doing by the way? Is the dog finally dead or has he managed to cheat death once again like the cockroach he really is…"

I clenched my fists at his words, my body shaking with rage. Damn him. And without thinking I moved, my body moving on it's own. Kanda let out two shots but to my surprise, none of them hit me as I rolled out of the way. I chuckled to myself, Kanda always was a lousy shot. With that in mind I pushed myself off the floor and ran straight at him, firing off a couple shots of my own. Kanda might be a lousy shot but his reflexes weren't so lousy. He managed to evade each bullet that came his way, discarding his gun as he grabbed my wrist in his hand. He squeezed my wrist until I was forced to let go of my gun. I grit my teeth as I swung my leg up. Kanda smirked as he dodged the hit, throwing me over his shoulder and slammed me roughly into the floor, delivering a blow to my face at the same time my back hit the floor. I groaned low in my throat but I refused to let him beat me. I clenched my teeth as I swung my free arm up, my fist hitting him straight in the chest. He stumbled back at the blow, letting me go as he gasped for air. 

“Fucking bitch…” He let out, his voice strained as he tried to get air into his lungs.

I ignored his words and got to my feet, pulling out my switchblade, “You’re not getting away from me this time,” I all but growled as I charged at him but he had something up his sleeve, like always.

He rose to his feet before I could get to him, running at me. He ducked out of the way of my swinging arm, ducking down low enough to tackle me around the waist but I didn’t fall to the ground...no he pushed me out the window. I didn’t even know what was happening until I was falling. My back took most if not all of the impact as it hit a dumpster that sat out in the alley. I let out a groan of pain, my lungs not getting sufficient oxygen, the air being knocked out of me on impact. I rolled over, my whole body in agony but what hurt most was my left leg. I looked down, seeing my own switchblade embedded deep in the flesh of my thigh. I reached down to try and take it out but it was too painful. I swallowed back the tears that wanted to come out, the pain beginning to numb my entire body. I gave up on trying to pull the blade out, laying back and staring up into the apartment I had just been thrown out of. If we were a few more stories up I would’ve sustained more damage or worse, I could’ve died.

“I don’t intend of dying right now...I have too much left to do.” Kanda murmured, looking down at me from the broken window before turning his back on me.

-

I don’t know when I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep but I do know I wasn’t out for that long. I looked up at the dark night sky, my body aching from head to toe.

I have to move.

I thought this over and over until I finally mustered up enough strength to move, biting my tongue to keep in the scream that wanted to crawl its way out of my throat. With much difficulty I finally got down from the dumpster but the more I move the more my vision spun. This isn’t good...there’s no way I’d make it back to the house on my own in the condition I was in. I cursed lowly to myself as I leaned against the wall, doing all I could to stay upright and awake. Just as I thought I was going to pass out again I heard my name being called out. I looked up through narrowed  eyes, trying to see who it was, surprised to see a face I hadn’t seen in weeks.

Wait, is he blonde now?

“Choi San?” 

I pushed myself off the wall, swaying from side to side before my legs finally gave out from under me. I waited to hit the ground with closed eyes but the impact never came. I opened my eyes to see that he had caught me before I could hit the ground, an unreadable expression on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer for a long while, his eyes scanning over my entire body. The way he looked at me now was nothing compared to how he would look at me before. Now, he looked absolutely livid as his eyes took in each one of my injuries.

“I should be the one asking you that...just what the hell happened to you?” He asked through clenched teeth, his hold on me tightening ever so slightly.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?! This isn’t nothing!” He yelled out, his loud voice making me wince.

His face softened at seeing me do so before he sighed. He set me down on the floor before pulling out a bandana from his pocket. He used his teeth to tear it in two, tying the two pieces together before staring down at my thigh. Without a word he reached down, about to grab the handle of the switchblade but I stopped him just before he wrapped his fingers around it, my hand clutching onto his wrist tightly.

“Don’t.”

“Y/N...I need to take it out.” He said, his voice softer than I had ever heard it.

I stared into his eyes for a moment before nodding. Without a word I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder. He tensed under my touch but he relaxed within seconds.

“Alright...here I go…” He mumbled, before counting down from three.

When he got to one he pulled the blade out. I bit down on the inside of my cheek at the pain, a few tears slipping out of my eyes as I leaned back against the wall. I was breathing heavily as I watched him tie the bandana around my thigh, tying a tight knot.

“You never answered my question…”

He looked up, a brow raised as he grabbed onto both my arms. He turned around and hoisted me onto his back. I ground my teeth together at the pain that ran through my body but I kept quiet, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as I held on tightly.

“What question?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly, laying my chin on my arm, resting my head against his.

He took a moment to answer, his hands squeezing my thighs ever so slightly before he finally opened his mouth, “I just got back and I was on my way over to your place. For some unknown reason I had this gut feeling telling me to go through here...and I’m glad I followed it. Who knows what could’ve happened to you if I had gone the normal way.”

“Seriously San do you not have your own place? Your own people to get back to? I don’t know maybe even a girlfriend...or boyfriend, whatever floats your boat.” I chided, my voice full of nothing short of exasperation.

He chuckled at my words, looking over his shoulder so he could look me in the eye, “Nothing quite floats my boat like you do, darling.”

“You hardly know anything about me.” I deadpanned, watching a coy smile tug at his lips.

“And who’s stopping me from knowing everything about you?”

“Me. I’m stopping you. I’m showing you all the red lights and stop signs. You’re blatantly ignoring all the warning signs I’ve been putting up for the past few months.”

He chuckled once more, looking forward as he began walking again, “You know you’re pretty lively for someone that was about to pass out when I found them.”

As soon as those words sunk in I was reminded of my injuries, the pain making a reappearance. I didn’t know it at the time but San had a way of making me forget about everything, my sole focus on him alone. It was like nothing else in the world matter but him...and his stupid words that made me want to wring his neck but I couldn’t stop myself from joining in on the banter. I never realized how much of a stress reliever he was...until he came back. Maybe I do enjoy having him around…

“Are you going to tell me what you went through to get these injuries?” He asked, his voice cutting into my thoughts.

I kept quiet for a moment before sinking further into his hold, “No.”

He nodded slowly, “Fine. I won’t ask anymore about it...I just want to know one more thing. Why aren’t any of the guys with you?”

I didn’t answer him, leaning my head against his as I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to think about the others right now, especially not Yunho. I know he’d throw a fit the moment he laid eyes on my injured body. I wanted to avoid confrontation at all costs but I knew there wasn’t any way around it. Right now I just want to close my eyes and sleep for the next few days while my body recovered as I secretly enjoyed being in San’s hold. 

-San’s P.O.V-

I couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at lips when she suddenly got a bit heavier. I knew she finally knocked out, hearing her slow and steady breaths loud and clear, her head resting against my own. Though I wanted to know who did this to her I stopped from prying the moment she stopped talking. It must be a sensitive topic for her...I’m just glad I was in the area.

“Just what the hell are you doing to me, Y/N…” I trailed off, looking down at her hands that hung over my shoulders.

I had been trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart but with each passing second it just got louder and harder to ignore. Well fuck...things are starting to get complicated.

[zoequeenz]

Won’t Get Fooled Again (Part 2)

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

3rd Person POV

At the hospital Reid and Gideon are questioning Mr.Clurman.

“What can you tell us about the package, Mr.Clurman?” Gideon asks.

“I thought I knew what it was. Pot for an orchid. I collect them. I ordered the pot through the mail.” he explains.

“Why didn’t you take it inside?” Gideon asks another question.

“It was for my office. I was going there anyway. Thought I’d take it with me. That’s the last thing I remember.” Mr. Clurman answered.

“You had an argument with Joe Reese. Do you remember that?” Gideon asks, continuing the questioning.

“Joe was there?” Mr.Clurman asks.

“He was angry, he accused you of blowin’ him off.” Gideon told him.

“Uh....” Mr. Clurman couldn’t remember.

“Any reason he’d want to hurt you?” Gideon asks instead of pressing further if he could remember him being there.

“Joe? No. I mean, He’s a confrontational guy, but if he wanted to kill me, he’d just beat me to death.” he told Gideon.

Mr.Clurman then exclaims in pain.

“A lot of people were angry about that deal fallin apart, and they were angry at you.”

Mr.Clurman looks at Gideon confused.

“I don’t know how does that make you feel?”

“I felt awful. I thought those condos would make a lot of money for a lot of people, myself included. I thought that geologist was legit. He didn’t even take samples. He scammed us.” he says defeated.

“All those investors who lost their money… Barbara.”

“Barbara Keller?” Gideon asks.

“The first victim.” Reid states.

“What about her?” Gideon asks Mr.Clurman.

“It’s just such a shame. Such a nice lady, you know?” Mr. Clurman answers.

“It was such an easy sale. Sometimes...I felt like I took advantage of her because she’s old and lonely. Now, she’s dead. Well… I feel terrible.”

“OW!” he exclaims. It was his foot. However, it wasn’t there anymore.

“I’ll get you some help.” Gideon says leaving.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

After finding the tool box with what seemed to be filled with things to build a bomb, Hotch, Elle, and I went back in to look around the house. Elle was looking at some of the Clurman’s photos while Hotch and I were in the kitchen. Suddenly, Hotch’s phone rang.

From what little I could hear Clurman wasn’t the bomber. Just as Hotch hangs up Elle walks in with a photo.

“Look at this. This is their nephew in Texas. And according to Mrs.Clurman, he was staying with them for a month and left last week.” she tells us.

“Mercury switches are a little sophisticated for a twelve year old kid.” Hotch tells her.

“I’m not saying he’s the unsub, but boys his age like to blow stuff up.” Elle counters.

“I’ll call Morrison. He’ll contact local PD in Texas. He’ll pick up the kid and talk to him.” Hotch says.

Elle and I walk away as he calls Morrison.

“Kids these days are so odd.” I say and Elle laughs.

“I mean I don’t remember any of the boys I grew up with blowing stuff up.”

“Must be those video games.” Elle jokes.

We share a laugh. Elle’s starting to grow on me.

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3rd Person POV

As Morgan works on the bomb, Garcia sits playing a video game.

“You know, a watched bomb never assembles.” Garcia tells Morgan.

Morgan huffs in frustration “I��m down to the last few pieces, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out how they fit together or if they fit together.”

Garcia listens but still is playing her game.

“They might not even be a part of the bomb at all.” Morgan adds.

“What’s the big deal?” Garcia asks.

“You got most of it. I’d give you a B plus.”

Morgan laughs “Thanks.”

“The big deal is it could be part of his signature.”

“Ooh, signature, like a sign of the zodiac, that kinda thing?” Garcia asks.

“Yeah. Yeah, just like that.” Morgan responds jokingly.

“I was serious. I really wanted to learn that time.” Garcia says shoving Morgan.

“Signature’s the thing that they get off on, you know, like a flourish. You know, a certain kind of pipe, a certain mix of powders. Like the Unabomber, he always used something wood in his bombs.” he explains.

“I mean, I don’t know...I mean, these guys,they think they are artists or something, so they sign their work.”

“And you think by putting these last pieces together, you might find the signature?” Garcia asks.

“Yeah, and...see, sometimes the design itself is unique, so once we do put it all together, we can compare it to other exemplars in our evidence database and see if the bomb was built by somebody we may have already come across.” Morgan explains.

“What?”

“If there was another piece like this…”Garcia starts.

“No, I tried that. It doesn’t fit.” Morgan says.

“No, it could’ve been part of a longer rod that fit through the top and went all the way through.” Garcia finishes poking a wood rod through the rebuilt bomb. Morgan looks at her in shock.

“Tetris.” she says.

“Damn it.” Morgan sighs rubbing his face.

“What? Did I mess something up?” she asks worried.

“No. No, no, Garcia.” he answers.

“You nailed it. I know who built this bomb. The guy’s doing life in federal prison.”

Morgan moves to get up as Garcia stares at him in disbelief. He goes to the phone to dial Hotch.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

Just as we were on the way back to the police department, Derek called Hotch and told him he knew who the bomber was. He also said he would send photos of the finished bomb to us so we could look at what we were dealing with. Just as we arrived so did Gideon and Spencer. We all met up before we got in so Hotch could fill Gideon in, I immediately went to Spencer. We didn’t say anything just smiled real big at each other and began to follow the rest of the team in. Sometimes, I didn’t need to say anything just being around him was good enough. We walked into a private office and Hotch got out a laptop.

“Morgan emailed these over. The three on the left are the bombs from yesterday. The one on the right’s from the evidence room at Quantico.” Hotch announces as we all crowd around the screen.

“They’re all identical. Made with steel reinforcement rods.” Spencer says.

“Adrian Bale.” Gideon announces.

“Who?” asks Detective Morrison.

“He held our agents in a standoff in Boston last year. He took out six agents and a hostage with one of his bombs.” Hotch explained.

“So you’re thinking he’s behind this?” Elle asks.

“Possibly.” Spencer answers.

“But, he’s in prison.” I add.

“He’s got kind of a cult following, like Charles Manson. It could just be a copycat.” Spencer adds.

“There’s one way to find out. Let’s put the screws to this guy.” Morrison says.

“ No, no, no. Bale’s too smart. If we want information from him, we have to handle him carefully, and even then you have to assume that road will lead nowhere.” Gideon tells us.

“You’re saying the connection to Bale doesn’t help us at all?” Morrison asks.

“No. I’m just saying let us handle Bale.” Gideon responds.

“Look, we just heard from local Texas PD. You were right about Clurman’s nephew. He admitted the bomb stuff was his, which is great for the Clurman’s, but it leaves us with zero suspects. So what do you suggest my men do now?” Morrison asks.

“Proceed from the profile.” Gideon says matter of factly.

“I didn’t know we had a profile.” Morrison says.

Gideon tells Morrison to round up his men. We all meet up in their bullpen to go over the profile. While Gideon paces, Hotch stands to the side, Elle stands to my left, and Spencer and I sit next to each other on a desk. It was nice to be next to him. We were so close but there was only maybe an inch between us. Maybe I could slowly move closer while Gideon is talking to touch shoulders. Goodness did I sound like a high schooler. But I can’t help it, he’s just too darn cute.

“When we’re dealing with a bomber we’re talking about someone who’s non-confrontational. If you bumped into him in a cafe, he’d apologize. Even if it wasn’t his fault.” Gideon starts.

“We would classify this bomber as highly organized based on the meticulous design of his bombs. It means above average intelligence. He probably has a skilled job, a trade, one that allows him to work alone. That’s how he was able to make a sophisticated device without raising suspicion. Furniture maker, jeweler, etcetera.” Hotch explains.

“Background in explosives?” asks Morrison.

“No, not necessarily. You’re thinking about a type that likes to blow things up. Gives them an emotional or sexual release. Death? Secondary.” Gideon explains.

“Then what’s this guy doing?” an officer asks.

“Murdering.” Gideon bluntly answers.

“Bombs? Just weapons. And these attacks, they are not random.”

“Well, how do you know that?” another officer questions.

“By process of elimination. We know bombers fall into a discreet number of categories according to motive. There’s the terrorist whose aim is to spread fear. We expect him to strike in a populous area like a subway. There’s the politically motivated bomber. He makes a statement by choosing a symbolic target like an abortion clinc. Then there’s our unsub. He made bombs designed to kill and he chose his victims specifically by placing the bombs at their stoops. That tells us he has a direct motive. Statistically, he bombs for profit or to conceal a crime.  And it tells us how we’re going to find him. Through the people he killed.” Hotch explained.

“Somewhere among the three victims, there is a direct motive. Keep digging.” Gideon says.

“Thanks.” Hotch says closing the meeting.

“If you have any questions, we’ll be around.”

Gideon then tells us he will be going to the prison to talk to Bale. Gideon asked Spencer to come with him. So as he was collecting his bag I said goodbye. Bale was an interesting man and what if he tried to hurt my Spency. I mean I doubt that Gideon would let him near the man but I was still worried.

“Be careful okay, I don’t know who I’m gonna have movie night Friday’s with.” I say to him.

“Don’t worry Percy. I’m a big boy. I’m also in the FBI in case you didn’t notice.” he responds.

I laugh “Whatever, stay safe. See ya when you get back.” I say then kiss his cheek quickly turning around and walking away to hide my blush. Hotch, Elle, JJ, and I all stay back to work on finding a suspect. We are sitting in a private board room to have a bit more quiet when JJ walks in.

“How we doing?” she asks.

“Frustrated.” Elle responds.

“I can’t see why anyone would want to kill a little old lady who collects cats and coins.”

“Unless somebody wanted the coins.” Hotch says.

“I spent a good chunk of my childhood looking for a 1994 penny worth thousands.”

We all stop and look at him. This was something I could maybe see Hotch doing. It was cute. When he realizes we’ve stopped working he looks up.

“Yes, I was a little bit of a nerd. Is that so surprising?” he asks.

I shake my head with a small smile as Elle says “Not to me.” as she gives JJ and I a look that says “not at all”. Then the phone rings. It's Derek with new information for us.

“Morgan?” Hotch asks.

“Yeah. I just got the lab results from the powder residues on the bombs. Ammonia nitrate, potassium chloride, and aluminum powder. Nobody uses that mixture, Hotch.” Derek explains.

“Nobody but Bale.” Hotch fires back.

“That’s right. And the closer I look at these things, the more they’re the same. Same weld pattern,  same switch assembly, same thread sizing. It’s weird, man.” Derek informs us.

“This guy���s not building bombs, he’s forging them. That’s the other reason I’m calling you. Bale wrote addresses on his packages in block letters with blue ink. I’m thinking our guy’s doing the same.”

“Ok. I’ll set up a press conference, make sure the public knows.” JJ says texting on her phone.

“Thanks, Morgan.” Hotch says hanging up.

Just as he was done with that call his phone rings and he steps away for a second while Elle and I continue to work.

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3rd Person POV at U.S. Penitentiary

Adrian Bale sits in his cell when his name is called. He has a visitor.

“You know why I’m here?” Gideon asks the man.

“This guy in Palm Beach, right?” Bale answers shrugging.

“The Palm Beach bomber. Somebody’s got to give him a better name.”

Gideon sighs “He uses your bombs, your designs.”

“Well, he should be careful. Those things are dangerous.” he says nonchalantly.

“Adrian...you can’t fool me.” Gideon says.

“If you’re involved in this in any way and you do not help me, I will make your life even worse than it is now.”

“Oh, but no, actually, I can fool you because I fooled you before. And now there’s another me out there, watching, waiting.” Bale responds.

NEXT CHAPTER

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 48: To The Secret Lab!

Becoming The Mask

Stephan's footsteps echoed more loudly than usual in the base's deserted hallways. He was tempted to change his gait, to step lightly so he'd make less noise, but on the other hand it wasn't smart to sneak up on a Changeling you weren't planning to fight. Anyway, the bag of canned goods he was carrying would clank no matter how he carried it.

"Bernie? It's Stephan," he called when he neared the laboratory. The doors were standing open.

"Excellent timing, I need some fresh eyes."

Stephan gulped. He was pretty sure Bernie meant 'a new person to look over things, because fresh perspective can catch something an older, more tired perspective missed', but it was also possible the Alchemist actually needed eyeballs for something.

"There's goggles by the door," Bernie continued.

Stephan put on a set, and after a moment's thought grabbed a hairnet as well.

His hair wasn't long enough to tie back easily but it was long enough to potentially get caught on something. It felt a bit silly to put goggles over his mask, but the lab safety rules were clearly displayed by the goggle rack – goggles and close-toed shoes were mandatory for entrance. There were some modified goggles and plastic booties for use while troll-shaped.

He left the grocery bag on an empty shoe-rack. It would be out of the way there.

"I wasn't sure what your food situation was, so I brought some stuff. Canned tuna, mostly." Cans were shelf-stable and could be eaten in troll or human shape.

"Thanks, Stephan. I'm well supplied, but it was thoughtful of you." Bernie was currently human-shaped, surrounded by neatly sorted rubble and writing something on a clipboard. "Xe/xir at the moment, by the way."

"Is that with an X or with a Z?" asked Stephan, not sure if there was a significant difference, but ready to believe there could be since Bernie was bothering to bring this up.

"An X. You know, you're one of maybe five people who've ever asked me that."

"Okay. Cool. Uh, he/him for me, still."

"Got it." Bernie made a decisive last pen stroke, clicked the pen, and turned to xir guest-slash-assistant. "I've been sorting pieces, checking to see if anything's recognizable. As you can see," gesturing towards on grouping of stones, "the hooves, legs, and loincloth can mostly be identified, as can the claws," indicating another, pointier collection. "But I can't seem to find Bular's horns or face. I keep recounting the skulls from his belt and checking our video footage of him to make sure I didn't mix him up with one of them somehow."

A set of skulls, on the table in front of Bernie beside the probably-legs, were either surprisingly intact or mostly reassembled.

Stephan was suddenly, vividly reminded of his early days on the surface, sorting jigsaw puzzles with his Familiar's family. His youngest sister in particular had had a knack for seeing which edges ought to match up.

"Do I need gloves?"

"Wouldn't hurt. I haven't been using them. They don't switch over properly." Bernie crackled blue, and the tall, hefty human became a tall, hefty troll – still small compared to a Gumm-Gumm, but probably quite respectably sized for whichever group xe'd been taken from – and held up xir hands to demonstrate.

Stephan could see why Bernie might have trouble with gloves. Xir hands were bigger now, for one, which would stretch out the latex if xe carried the gloves over through the transformation rather than having different gloves on as a troll, and then xe would have to change xir gloves once they changed to human – plus, Bernie had four-digit rather than five-digit hands as a troll, so the extra glove finger would either flap loose or need to be taped down, which would also increase the odds of the gloves being damaged after shapeshifting back and forth.

It was a lot of trouble to go through when you weren't working with something caustic or reactive to the oils in human skin.

"Why are you wearing … that, though?" Stephan asked, gesturing up and down.

Bernie's lab coat had carried over between forms. It was loose on xir as a human, and now fit better. The lime green coat, with neon pink and yellow flowers printed around the hem and on the cloth-covered buttons, had looked odd on a human and even stranger on a purplish-blue troll.

"Oh, I keep a bunch of colourful ones in stock, in case I'm ever running tests on someone who's had a bad experience in a lab and doesn't like the white coats. Attempted vivisection, usually. Gets people all mixed up, conflating Mad Scientists and Evil Scientists."

Bernie shook xir head.

"Vivisection is the stupidest starting point for a xenobiological study. Surgery is complicated. Aside from risk of infection and the complications of dosing anesthesia for an unknown organism – since they'll definitely die of traumatic shock if you don't anesthetize – looking at organs only makes sense if you already know what you're supposed to be seeing."

Xe paced around the lab, gesturing with the clipboard.

"At best, you'll set yourself up for confirmation bias about any superficial parallels between the new and the known, and at worst you'll have no idea what you're looking at and kill off your test subject. I mean, I understand if it's just a thinly-veiled excuse to commit torture for the sake of torture, but as a scientist that offends me for other reasons."

"… So, why are you wearing it now?" Stephan looked around, suddenly wary. "Do you have a live test subject down here?" How restrained are they? How vengeful are they?

Bernie seemed startled at the reminder xe was having a conversation rather than talking to xirself.

"Oh – no, I just got bored of how monochromatic the base is. Plus changing how I'm dressed helps keep the days from blurring together."

"Ah."

Stephan made a mental note to visit more often.

He started looking through the shattered remains. He didn't shapeshift. Stephan had a lot of protruding teeth in troll form, not just tusks, and it could be a challenge not to drool on things. His mask would catch some of it if he kept it on, but then he's be stuck in a slimy mask when he changed back.

He picked up each stone, one by one, and turned it this way and that. Sometimes he found an identifiable feature – an elbow spur, a shoulder ridge – and pointed it out to Bernie. That got part of one arm put back together, or maybe a smaller percentage of both arms. If Stephan didn't find anything distinct, he would carefully put the stone back exactly where Bernie'd had it before, and move on to the next one.

"It's weird that his swords aren't here," said Stephan after a while.

"He could've been disarmed in the fight."

"Yeah, but then Stricklander would've brought the swords back along with the body. And if they'd turned to stone with him, there should be – some sheets, or plates, or something. Flat rocks matching up to the blades. Those things were huge."

Unless …

"Unless the Trollhunter took them, after killing him," Stephan said slowly. "You know, battle trophies." His eyes were drawn to the row of skulls Bular had worn to show off his own battle prowess. "Hunting trophies … What if the reason we can't find his head, is because the Trollhunter has it?"

"Well, that would probably narrow down the cause of death to decapitation," said Bernie, in a detached, academic sort of tone. "Although that can also be done post-mortem, it would be more difficult to remove an intact head, since the stone is more brittle once it dies."

"Which could explain the state of the rest of the body." Stephan shuddered. Gunmar was going to be so angry …

+=+

After two searches through Bular's remains, Stephan could barely tell the stones apart anymore. It looked like there should be more than enough to rebuild Bular, but jigsaws always looked bigger than they were when the pieces were all spread out, and Stephan and Bernie still couldn't find Bular's head.

Stephan was leaning on his 'hunting trophy' theory. There had to be a reason their greatest enemy was called the Trollhunter, right?

Something beeped. Stephan, more tightly wound than he'd realized, jumped and turned trollish in a flash of silver.

He was dark grey, as a troll, with a crown of stubby lighter grey horns instead of hair. His mask got pushed away from his face by his overlong teeth. His goggles clattered to the floor. His ears went back at the additional noise.

"It's okay, Stephan," said Bernie, gently, as though to a spooked animal. "That just means it's break time. Come on." Bernie reached out as though to pat Stephan on the arm, though they were on opposite sides of the room. "I'm going to meditate. I'd rather not leave you alone in the lab, no offence."

Stephan blinked a few times and tried breathing slow and deep, to settle his heart rate.

"Okay. Yeah. Let's go."

Both of them changed to human form as they left the laboratory. Bernie sealed the blast doors and herded Stephan to the next floor up, to a small square room with a gramophone in the center and low white benches around the walls.

Stephan picked the bench opposite Bernie's, both Changelings with their sides to the door.

The record was moving slowly, though the needle wasn't touching it and neither Changeling had wound the crank on the side.

Bernie seemed entirely at ease, waiting, listening for the Pale Lady's voice.

Stephan tried to let go of the resentment that kept bubbling up inside him.

For all Bernie had seemed to be lonely and pining for conversation when Stephan first arrived, xe certainly didn't seem to need Stephan around anymore. Stephan had hardly proven his mettle with how he'd overreacted to a harmless alarm. Helping with the 'rebuild Bular' project was the one thing Stephan could do for the Order right now, and he had barely contributed.

He didn't know how to help.

He just wanted to help.

Please … he begged Morgana in his mind. My Queen. Your Ladyship. Mother. Tell me what you need of me. Let me know how I can help you.

A side compartment of the gramophone table opened. A drawer slid out.

Both Changelings got up and leaned in to look without touching anything.

The drawer held an orange crystal, faintly glowing. The room hadn't changed temperature or décor, but somehow felt more comfortable. Bernie got out a pen and touched the crystal with the button end. Nothing happened.

"Is this …" for us? Stephan couldn't quite say out loud. "Are we supposed to take it? Do something with it?"

"I think it's Heartstone." Bernie touched it with a pinkie finger this time. Again, nothing appeared to happen.

Stephan backed off and sat back down. Heartstone? Really? Here? How? That stuff was legendary. He'd only half-believed it was real.

Bernie turned trollish and touched the stone with xir last finger, to no visible effect, and then picked it up. The drawer closed itself and the compartment shut over it.

Bernie held the crystal out to Stephan and urged, "Touch it."

Stephan got up and followed Bernie's lead, transforming and tapping the crystal cautiously with one finger. He staggered back and sat again.

"Whoa."

If Heartstone was a thing, that was definitely what this thing was. Stephan had been overloaded with a sense of safety and contentment. It was actually kind of scary to think about once he wasn't touching it anymore – he would have let his guard down entirely to bask in whatever the stone was radiating.

Maybe it was actually some kind of trap?

Except a trap – if it was a lotus-eater type trap – the trap would logically drain his energy, and Stephan felt invigorated. He wanted to do something. He felt like he could do anything.

"It's supposed to enhance a troll's life force, somehow," said Bernie, waving vaguely with xir free hand. "Possibly like how reptiles need warmth to regulate their metabolism, or how humans need sunlight to produce Vitamin D. Or it could just be a stimulant."

"I heard Lord Gunmar was born from the first one," said Stephan. "Maybe that was a metaphor and trolls need … Heartstone radiation … to be fertile? That would explain why we aren't."

'We' meaning 'Changelings'. Although, if Stephan was right, maybe that meant Changelings could … become fertile? Probably not from a brief touch of a small stone, but, in the future, with regular contact?

Bernie was still holding it.

"If it feeds trolls, maybe it eats them as well," xe speculated. "Feeding troll remains into it could make it grow. Like how plants do best if there's decaying animal matter in the soil."

Stephan nodded. He'd skimmed an article in a gardening magazine a while back about using blood meal to grow better roses.

"There's some connection, I don't know what exactly, but I know it's there." Bernie turned the stone over with a thoughtful expression. "I wish I had more to experiment with. Ideally five. A control group with nothing, of course, one fed with analogous minerals that weren't sourced from a troll, one fed with Changeling dust –"

"You have –? What am I saying, of course you do."

"– one with Grave Sand, and one with Bular's remains."

Wait, what?

"I don't know if Otto would like that."

"That experiment would have to wait until after the autopsy," said Bernie, reminded once more that xe wasn't just talking to xirself.

"… Do you think it could bring him back to life?"

"Unlikely but possible."

Stephan had never encountered the undead, to his knowledge, but he made a point of bringing garlic-rich food into work at the crematorium, and keeping a box of salt in his desk. (He'd read somewhere that, if a zombie tasted salt, they would remember they were dead, go back into their grave, and resist further attempts to summon them.) He probably wouldn't have much to worry about in his troll form, but his coworkers did not share this advantage.

"You know," said Bernie, "if this is emitting anything, I could probably adjust a Geiger counter to pick up on it. Let's get it back to the lab."

+=+

Bernie's first step was to scan the Heartstone with every instrument the Janus Order had and record its exact dimensions. Stephan was more of a witness than an assistant for that part.

He felt much more useful during the Geiger counter modifications. Bernie needed an extra pair of hands for some steps, and neither of them were a troll type with more than two arms. Stephan did have a prehensile tail, but it had broken a few times back in the Darklands and he couldn't flex it very well anymore to deal with things in front of him.

The alterations to the machine were more magic than tech. Bernie opened up a few sections and moved things around, extracting wires and inserting crystals and writing tiny cramped symbols here and there. Stephan held things out of the way that weren't being fully removed, and balanced pieces while Bernie attached them, and moved the Heartstone around the room for Bernie to recalibrate various settings.

Bernie put in something like a compass below the dial, so the holder couldn't only see how strong and close the Heartstone's readings were, but also which direction it was in. The compass was a sphere of rutilated quartz, with the gold-coloured acicular inclusions all going the same way. The sphere's mounting let it indicate directions in three dimensions.

It took four tries and six hours to cobble together a working model. Short-range only. Despite the Heartstone's properties, which did not seem to fade after prolonged contact, Stephan was barely keeping his eyes open.

n a surprising show of trust, Bernie let him nap in the apartment connected to the lab while Bernie typed up a report on today's findings.

Well, maybe it wasn't so surprising. Stephan, asleep, would be in a far more vulnerable position than Bernie would be from allowing another Changeling unsupervised in xir private space. If Stephan tried to leave some sort of trap, or go snooping while tired and set off a trap Bernie had left, well …

Bernie was also the Changeling primarily in charge of making any poisons the local Janus Order branch couldn't get through human channels. Stephan taking advantage of Bernie's trust would end far worse for him then it would for xir.

In any case, Stephan accepted the risk and took the nap, not wanting to drive home while tired. Bernie woke him half an hour later, and they went together to return the Heartstone piece to the gramophone room and to drop off a report in Otto's office.

Stephan carried the Geiger counter so Bernie could get a better idea of its range. It lost track of the Heartstone piece once they were most of the way down the hall. Bernie's hands were occupied with paperwork and a set of lockpicks. It was funny to see lockpicks carried so openly.

"Do you often break into the offices?" asked Stephan.

"I'm nearly certain I've been in every room of this base at least once."

"Recently?"

"I have been living down here. It's in my interests to double-check the security systems."

Stephan kept his eyes from rolling too obviously, but felt his mouth twitch in a small, brief grin.

When Otto's door opened, the Geiger counter – Bernie said xe was going to rename it, xe just hadn't yet – began beeping up a storm. The Changelings looked at each other and followed the compass needle to a bookcase, then a specific shelf, and finally behind a book.

"Well," said Bernie, "now I can double-check all my readings. I'll have to revise my report."

"How many more Heartstones are hidden around the base?" Stephan wondered.

"We should do a sweep. It'll probably take a couple of days. When do you have to leave and when can you next be here?"

"I have this week off. I can stay until," Stephan checked the date on his phone, "nine tomorrow evening before I'm expected anywhere." He and some work friends were planning to go to a bar for trivia night.

"Alright. We'll head back to the lab and you can take another nap while I do the scans and report revisions, and once you're awake we can sort out the order of the sweep."

"I should be good to go for –"

"You can't collect accurate data while sleep deprived."

"When's the last time you slept?"

"I woke up about ten minutes before you got here."

That explained why the laboratory had smelled of coffee.

+=+

Previous Chapter (Shattered King backstory, as commemorated by the Quagawumps)

Table Of Contents

Next Chapter (Jim gets Gunmar's Eye)

[tl-notes]

Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon S2 Episode 5 Notes

Better late than never! Hopefully I’ll catch up with these before next week’s episode hits.

私は、種族全体の目的よりも自分がやりたいことをやっているエルマに、興味がありました。

当時の私、そんな感じでしたし。

What Tohru is saying in these shots is a little different in the Japanese:

“I had an interest in Elma, who was doing what she wanted to do instead of advancing the goals of the species [her faction]. Since that’s how I was at the time, too.”

That is, for the first sentence, Tohru is saying Elma wasn’t interested in the broader dragon goals, not Tohru herself.

Then in the second sentence, instead of a wishy washy “I think that’s how it was?” Tohru says that she was like that too, hence her interest.

So it goes from like:

 “I was interested more in Elma than in faction goals, because she was acting freely. I think, anyway.” 

to more of a:

“I was interested in Elma because she was acting freely, not bound by faction goals. That’s what I was like too, after all.”

Not sure if it really counts as a translation note, but since I had some questions about it, here’s a few words on the Tohru/Elma disagreement scene.

Tohru thought Elma was like herself: acting not according to what dragon (or human) society asked of them, but according to their own personal set of values. Elma, by allowing herself to be placed in the position of “god” by the humans, had changed that; she locked herself into permanently being a (large, important) cog in the human society. From Tohru’s perspective, she’d lost the one person she felt kindred with, her fellow “free actor.” She doesn’t particularly care what happens to the humans, hence the 私が言いたいことはそういう話ではない (“That’s not what I’m trying to talk about”) when Elma says she’ll just stop the wars from happening: that’s all well and good, but it doesn’t solve Tohru’s issue.

Hence Kobayashi’s response: both grand (involved the fate of nations), and petty (Elma got “trapped” by food, and Tohru’s initiation of the fight was for personal reasons).

喧嘩するほど仲がいい kenka suru hodo, naka ga ii

This is one of those sayings that is often a giant pain in the butt to translate, because it’s not an odd concept in English, but for whatever reason* there is no common pithy saying for it like there is in Japanese, so it’ll almost come off less smoothly. 

The idea is that, in order to “have a fight” with someone, you have to already have an established relationship that’s at a certain level of closeness.

Two strangers? Why would you even have a reason to fight, who cares. Two acquaintances? Why deal with it, just smile and nod and go on with your day. Two close friends though? You probably care enough to want to convince them of whatever it is, and/or you don’t want to have to hide your real thoughts/feelings around them like you might around, say, just random coworkers or something—meaning more chances for friction.

*My theory on this is that it comes from the same place as the “wow Japanese people are so polite” stereotype and stuff like honne/tatemae as discussed in a previous episode’s notes: in a situation where two strangers/acquaintances might get into a shouting match in the US, in Japan there’s a comparatively higher chance they just tatemae it up to prevent direct conflict and end the situation early—hence less likely to “have a fight” per se. As always this stuff is just on a continuum though.

What do you call these “clouds” left by planes as they fly? In Japanese, they’re called 飛行機雲 hikoukigumo, lit. “airplane clouds.” And they’re not a season word! 

Officially, anyway. 

However, they are heavily associated with summer, to the point where you if you google around to find out if they are a haiku season word, there are a whole bunch of sites to tell you no, they’re not, stop asking. That doesn’t mean they’re not a great way to tell the audience it’s summer anyway, though! 

If you’re curious as to why the summer association: how long vapor trails like this remain visible depends heavily on how humid the air is. More humidity, longer trails. And Japan has very humid summers (and very dry winters!).

If you’ve heard the song Tori no Uta, the OP to Air (also animated by Kyoani), hikoukigumo is the very second word in the lyrics—no coincidence given the heavy summer theming! If you haven’t heard it, I suggest giving it a try.

“Candy shop” here is 駄菓子屋 dagashi-ya, which is a kind of store that specializes in very cheap varieties of “candy” (maybe more accurately snack foods?): dagashi. If you’re seen/read any of the series Dagashi Kashi, you’re familiar with this variety of snack. 

Dagashi is so called because, back in the Edo period, quality white sugar was super expensive and not something commoners could typically eat. Cheaper brown sugar was, though, so you ended up with different terms for stuff made from each: the expensive 上菓子 jougashi and the cheap 駄菓子 dagashi. 

Later, in the Showa period after WW2 when the average person was able to afford a bit more, the term stuck around but more generalized, referring to a wide variety of cheap snacks. These snacks are not necessarily always sugary, and they often have some sort of gimmick so it wasn’t “just” a piece of candy—toys attached, or games/puzzles, or requiring some interesting way to eat/drink them. If you grew up with Dunkaroos: that kinda thing.

Similar to “penny candy,” dagashi was/is cheap enough for children to afford several different varieties of with just a bit of change from their parents, and small stores specializing in them—dagashi-ya—sprung up all over the country, quickly becoming a popular spot for kids… and, not too long after, a symbol of childhood nostalgia. 

They’ve been on a big downtrend in the last few decades however. The spread of convenience stores as a competitor for snack buying is often cited as one reason, while a greater variety of ways for kids to spend their playtime now (video games etc.) is another.

You’re probably aware, but of the many reasons to bow in Japan, to show humility when making a request is a big one. 

Of note here is that Tohru doesn’t push Ilulu’s head down, which other characters in other shows might have done here, but just lightly reminds her: yeah okay you’re a dragon talking to a human, but you’re the one asking—act like it. She does, and her sincerity is rewarded.

The word here is ぱねぇ panee, which is a heavily abbreviated form of 半端(では/じゃ)ない hanpa nai, ~lit. “not halfway/half-done/half-assed.” 

hanpa ja nai→hanpa nai→hanpa nee→panee

It’s used probably how you’d expect: describing something intense af.

(I’m mostly just bringing it up because I love super-shortened slang like this!)

The phrase for “like” here is 気に入った ki ni itta, which is basically to have an interest in something/someone, to take a liking to, to say something is a favorite, etc. When said of another person, there’s typically an air of the speaker considering themselves in a higher position. It generally isn’t “like” in a romantic sense.

Take’s “hey that’s my line,” comes from the fact he’s (in his mind) in the position of power and was judging her on whether he’d try to kick her out of the job. You can tell he was thinking of it as “I like the cut of your jib. I guess you can stay.” kind of thing.

Normally a new employee would not say this about their new boss/job, even if they did like it, though a boss/senpai could of a new employee, hence the “what?”

Notably, Ilulu used “like” earlier in the episode to refer to Tohru as well. In that case it was 好き suki, which is a more literal “like,” with the various implications that may or may not have. Personally, it strikes me as a little odd to translate them both as “like” in the same episode.

And that’s it for episode five! I’m

[dickd0c]

STRIKE

CHAPTER FOURTEEN — “day three, pt one”

The five of them decided to go out for lunch that day.

It had been so long since they'd done anything fun outside the apartment. In fact, in her time staying there, Nic couldn't recall a single memory made anywhere but the apartment or a protest. Besides, they were getting sick of eating box pasta and shitty sandwiches all the time.

The plan was to pick the location in the car ride there, which Nic thought was completely stupid and bound to result in them driving around for at least an hour, but Tank and Athena insisted that it was a genius idea. Nic decided it wasn't worth it to argue with them; Tank and Athena were no doubt the most stubborn minds in the whole apartment.

Nic finished tying her curly brown hair into a loose braid. It was day three hair, which meant it wasn't greasy enough to be washed, but it was deformed enough that it couldn't just be worn out. She stepped in front of her mirror, patting down the light blue dress she was wearing. Nic didn't typically wear a lot of dresses, especially since the five of them didn't go out a lot, so she figured she might as well wear one at the rare chance she got.

Nic's head turned when she heard her door creak open. She smiled slightly when Alpha walked in, closing the door behind him. As usual, he wasn't wearing a smile on his face. Those were rare and only used for specific purposes. His grey eyes stared her down in that intimidating way they did, but Nic was starting to get a feeling that he did that on purpose.

"Hello," she said quietly, turning to face the mirror again, pretending to adjust the straps on her dress. Really, she just wanted to busy herself with something because being in front of Alpha made her an awkward wreck.

"I like the dress," he said in his raspy voice, stepping up to stand behind her. He was wearing black jeans and a simple white shirt.

"Thank you," Nic said. It was weird talking to Alpha like this. She had gotten really used to him giving her rude, blunt sentences or just intimidating glares. Then, she had gotten used to him whispering dirty things into her ears. Normal conversation? Still something new.

"I have a surprise for you," he added, his lips dipping down to Nic's exposed neck.

Nic closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as Alpha placed light nips from her collarbones to the bottom of her jaw, sending tingles down her spine. One of his arms came around to firmly wrap around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

"What is it?" she asked, tilting her head to give him more space.

Alpha chuckled into her neck, his warm breath oddly making Nic shiver. His hand slowly went down her thigh for the hem of her dress, making Nic's mouth drop open just slightly. So far, he hadn't really touched her there yet. She tensed up as he pulled the hem of her dress up and reached for her panties.

Alpha's fingers slipped inside them, but to Nic's surprise, he didn't start fingering her. No; her eyes popped open in surprise and a gasp left her lips when what felt like two cold, metal balls entered her.

"What the fuck is that?" she exclaimed, the only appropriate response to something like that. She looked at Alpha in shock through the mirror.

Alpha slid his hand out of her panties, fixing the hem of her dress. He shot a glare at her reflection, a warning for what he'd call her "attitude."

Nic took a deep breath in and out, trying to cool herself down. She knew that if she even remotely snapped at him, he'd find some way to "punish" her—which she didn't usually mind, but it was probably more productive to speak to him peacefully if she wanted answers.

"What was that?" she asked, her voice painfully light. It was obvious she was forcing it, but it was enough for Alpha. "What did you just... put in me?" she said that last bit with a weird look on her face, because it was weird.

"You'll find out soon, babygirl," he said with a small smirk, placing one last kiss on Nic's shoulder before stepping away and taking her hand. "Now c'mon. If we don't get to the car before Riot, he might convince Athena to go to Subway." Alpha shuddered to himself at the thought.

They ended up getting in the car before Riot, managing to shut up him up before he could start a speech on why going to Subway was a good idea. The five of them bickered for a while, arguing over which cuisine they should eat. Riot still wanted subway, Tank wanted Thai, Alpha wanted Italian—Nic couldn't even keep up with who was arguing about what.

She pulled out her phone, making a quick search before speaking up. "Okay, shut up!" she called out, surprised when all the bickering actually subsided. "There's a black-owned restaurant nearby. It looks pretty good, lots of pancakes and crap if you're more in the mood for brunch—" she shot a look at Tank, known for his sweet tooth "—and some really good sounding sandwiches. This one has brie... anyway, it has a bunch of other stuff."

"I vote supporting black-owned businesses," Riot piped up, his voice followed by some merry cheers from across the car.

Chuckling, Nic passed her phone to the front so that Athena could get the directions. As she moved, she suddenly remembered the two little balls that Alpha had put inside her. God, that's weird, she thought to herself as she leaned back, wondering what the purpose of that even was.

The ride was spent passing Nic's phone around looking at the menu, talking eagerly about what they were going to order while nobody really listened to each other. She finally got her phone back as they pulled up to the restaurant. It was brightly colored, lots of blues, greens, and yellows on the outside. They walked in and were quickly seated by a young woman with a big smile.

Nic tucked into the booth, sitting near a window. She glanced up as Alpha sat beside her, his knee brushing against her thigh. She so desperately wanted to grill him on what was inside her, but, clearly, the time and place were all wrong. Sighing, she sunk into her spot and opened up the menu, skipping right to the sandwiches.

When the woman came by with a notepad to ask them what drinks they'd like, Nic set her menu down and waited for her to look at her.

"Sparkling water, please," Athena said with her award-winning smile.

"A chocolate milk-shake," Tank said with his lopsided grin, flashing the waitress a wink.

"Coffee would be great," Riot said calmly as he he flipped his menu shut in his nimble fingers.

"Water, no ice," Alpha said, his voice smooth.

The waitress turned to Nic, clicking the end of her pen.

Nic opened her mouth to say "water, please," but instead a gasp escaped her. All eyes turned to her as her cheeks turned bright red. She didn't even notice the smirk on Alpha's face as she started pretending to choke on her own spit to cover up her gasp. Inside her core, where two little balls lay, a vibrating sensation started spreading out, making Nic clamp her legs shut tight.

"Uh, I think she'll have a water," Alpha turned to the waitress, clapping Nic's back with his hand like he would if she were actually coughing.

The waitress gave Nic a weird look, but she nodded and walked away. As soon as she was out of eyesight, the vibrating stopped. Nic's coughing stopped in lieu, and she awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Spit went down the wrong tube," she said in a weak voice, making her three friends across from her give her amused looks and resume their talking

"'Spit went down the wrong tube,' huh?" Alpha whispered next to her, his hand gliding to rest on her thigh.

Nic tensed up, slowly turning her head to face him. "Are you doing this?" she muttered angrily, but she kept a smile on her face in case anyone was looking.

"Doing what?" Alpha responded innocently, giving her a feigned expression of confusion that made her want to slap the shit out of him.

Right then, that vibrating sensation returned, but it was stronger this time. Nic grabbed the hand on her thigh with her own, clutching it tight like a lifeline as she clamped her lips shut. Her eyes dropped to Alpha's other hand, which was holding onto a tiny remote.

And just like that, the feeling was gone.

Nic angrily picked Alpha's hand off of her thigh and dropped it onto his. The lady came back with their drinks, setting them down at each person's respective area. Nic waited nervously as each person before her ordered their food. When the waitress got to her, she waited a moment for the sensation to come, but sighed when relief when it didn't.

"Can I get the grilled chicken sandwich with the greens, tomatoes, and Chipotle m—" Nic bit her lip harshly, turning her head to the side to face the window so that nobody could see the expression on her face. She pressed her hands to her thighs and crossed her legs as the vibrating gradually got stronger and stronger to the point where it was impossible to stay silent. Rather than moaning like a dumbass in front of three of her other friends and a waitress who already thought there was something wrong with her, she faked another coughing fit, giving the waitress an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry about that," she heard Alpha say over her coughing, "she has a respiratory thing. I think she wants her sandwich with the Chipotle mayo."

"O-okay," the waitress said, clearly stunned. "Will she be alright?"

"I've got this, thank you."

Nic assumed the waitress must have walked away when the vibrating finally stopped. She sighed out of relief, brushing some loose hairs from her face. She didn't dare look at Alpha, instead choosing to deal with the stunned looks on her friends' faces.

"Respiratory thing?" Athena questioned, giving them both an odd look.

"I didn't know what else to say—that she accidentally inhaled her spit twice?" Alpha retorted beside her. Normally, Nic would laugh or snort at the joke, but she was in a rather angrier mood compared to humorous.

Athena, Riot, and Tank all snickered.

"How do you fuck up swallowing spit twice?" Tank sniggered, taking a swig of his milkshake. It left a brown mustache on his upper lip. Nic was going to point it out, but decided that leaving it there was payback enough for his comment.

"Yeah, look at Nic, she doesn't know how to fucking breathe either," Nic muttered saltily, sinking lower in her spot.

She was able to bite back her gasp this time when the vibrating came back suddenly. She shot a look to Alpha, who gave her a wink and a smirk.

"Okay, I have to go to the bathroom," she said all of a sudden, attempting to step over Alpha who seemed to make it his job to make it as hard as possible for her to leave the booth.

However, there was no point trying, as a waiter who was passing by overheard and said, "Oh, we don't have restrooms here. Sorry, sweetheart."

His face looked genuinely apologetic, but Nic wanted to punch it in.

She sat down with a huff, arms crossed like an angry toddler, mind churning for ways to escape the booth and dig those stupid balls out of her fucking pussy. Her face brightened up all of a sudden as she announced to the group, "I have to grab something from the car!"

She tried to climb over Alpha, but he merely pushed her back in her seat.

"What is it, doll? I'll go get it for you," he said with the fakest and sweetest smile on his lips.

Nic wanted to tell him that his little act would be more believable if there was less smiling and more intense staring, jaw clenching, and growling.

"No, I can handle it, thank you," she said back in a sickly voice, smiling at him sweetly but showing poison with her eyes. Said eyes grew wide as the vibrating started up again, this time at a low setting, but enough to drive her mad.

"I don't think so," he said, eyes narrowing just enough for her to catch it. He then turned to the rest of the group. "Don't let her leave—I don't want her to choke on her spit again. What if nobody is there to save her?" He got up with a grin, no doubt going to the car to grab the imaginary object that Nic needed.

Nic huffed, rolling her eyes. "You know what? Forget it," she called out, forcing a smile onto her lips as she looked at Athena, Riot, and Tank. "I don't need it..."

Alpha sat down beside her with a satisfied smile. He placed his hand back on her inner thigh and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Remember, darling, say that one word and I'll stop any time.

That would have been the perfect time for her to spit out "vanilla" right in his face, but the dark and sultry look in his left Nic speechless. He didn't bother her with the vibrating for a little while, allowing Nic to actually listen in on the conversation her friends were having. Every once in a while, Alpha's thumb would rub her skin, or his hand would move an inch higher, making shivers dance across her. Occasionally they'd make eye contact, and he'd still have that dark look in his eyes that made Nic's heat wetter.

The food finally came around, the sandwich placed before her eyes looking leagues more enticing than any box pasta she had at the apartment. Right as she picked up her fork, the vibrating came back, stronger than any time before. Nic couldn't take it.

"God, vanilla!" she exclaimed, dropping her napkin. The vibrating stopped immediately. Nic didn't even blush as she bent down and picked the napkin up off the ground. She glanced up at her friends across from her. "Vanilla ice cream," she clarified, their confused expressions dissipating.

Nic turned to look at Alpha—his grey eyes stormy and wandering all over her skin—as she spoke again. "That's what I want for dessert."

[roidesrosette]

Blood donation? Blood donation.

God bless @narekashi​ for coming up with this genius name and enabling me to do this, i dont blame you thou i have a lot of fun

Yes, it’s me with another of my (mayhaps) contentless OC, please enjoy while it last– Jkjk, I’ll try to throw more content of her on here instead of Discord next time :’)

BLOOD DONATION:  Salvie/Salva/Sal, short for Salvatore

Age: ??? Gender: Salvie doesn’t like to define herself as anything  Birthday: 6/24  Height: 160cm  Status: Got revived as a vampire 

PHYSICAL  Appearance: Black hair usually tied in a ponytail, red eyes, sharp teeth, a constant “you dare challenge your god?” mocking expression (but doesn’t have the intention) 

Accessories: Poker case set, saber and gun

SOCIAL  Affiliation: On her own Occupation: Salvie runs a casino and is involved in a mafia Relationships:

Count: First met him when she was “adopted” by the bunch of vampires. He was offering to give them residence, but they all turned him down. Met him again when she was touring the world alone and made him an acquaintance, they became really good friends after that.

Leonardo: Met him when she was touring in Italy with Count. He kept treating her like a small child (still do), and they would drag each other like how he and Count would. He likes messing up her hair, she likes stepping on him when he’s asleep. Also a pair of good friends.

Arthur: Arthur was interested in Salvie and find her dominating personality challenging, but he knew well enough not to lay a finger on her. You just don’t simply go against someone who could lop off your head and had associations with the mafia. On the other hand thou, they were drinking buddies, and sometimes Salvie would pick up girls with him. They gamble a lot together too.

Dazai: They have an odd relationship. It might be because they’re somehow similar in a way, they know what line not to cross. They just have this weird bond that no one can put a finger to determine what it is.

Isaac: They don’t really talk much, she only knows he really likes apple from what she heard from Dazai, but that’s probably a lie…

Theodorous: God how Salvie loves to tease and sass him. Much like Leo, they would banter every time they met, but Theo always ends up leaving, flustered. He was too young compared to her, maybe a couple more years and his bantering skills might improve. They weren’t really on good terms, especially with how Salvie was involved with Shakespeare and the goddamn mafia, plus how close she and Vincent is.

Vincent: Pure, innocent baby boy. “I’ve only met Vincent for 15 seconds and if anyone hurts him I’ll kill everyone in this room and then myself.” Absolutely adores him and prefers him over Theo. Salvie admires how innocent he was, and that nature of him would always make her worry about him. She will also give him everything he wants or needs, just to see him smile.

Sebastian: When Count first brought him to the world, she was intrigued by the human who managed to charm him. So she would frequently visit just to see how Sebas works… Until he starts digging her information. She knew his passion well and understood that, but she would prefer if Sebas exclude her from his mysterious notebook.  

Napoleon: Salvie was very interested in him, being a demi-vampire, but she does not question him about it. If he isn’t willing to say, then she had no reason to pry. Along with Jeanne, the three of them practiced sword fights from time to time. Salvie would always be fascinated by both of their skills. You could say that their relationship is quite well.

Mozart: Salvie does not talk much with Mozart, but lowkey likes his performance. She would always attend a ball or an activity if Mozart is the one playing the piano. Salvie also finds his prickly attitude fun to tease, but would rather see Arthur tease him. They would only exchange words when it comes to music and that’s it.

Jeanne: Aside from sparring with him, Salvie also supplies weapons to him. She doesn’t question why, as that was the nature of her business. She couldn’t refuse too, since business is business, and he was a resident of Count’s, which she promised the dad before that she would sponsor his residents too, because he was a friend of hers.

Shakespeare: Basically (kinda) love at first sight. Both of them were born with chaos in them, and so they attract each other. She did not meet him when he became the first resident of Count, but she did hear about it. She met him in a ball. It’s a long ass story how they get together but yeah, these two dumbasses are doing fine and dandy as a couple, have their banters and bickers sometimes but all is well. Unless….?

Paired with: William Shakespeare (Maybe…?)  

PERSONALITY 

Likes: Gambling, attending balls (especially masquerade balls), hunting, going off adventures with her beloved horse, sword fight, overly sweet stuff  

Dislikes: Following a schedule/orders, getting treated like a feeble maiden/young child, proper meal, proper sleep  

Strength: She’s superb at gambling and swinging her sword, mediocre at drinking, she aced in “not giving a shit” 

Weakness: Hides her feelings a lot, tends to distance herself from people who know her to a certain degree, can’t sleep in peace ever

Personality: Let’s just start with: Salvie is chaotic. Very chaotic. Even the name “Salvatore” already tells you she spells trouble. She doesn’t like being bound by rules, schedules or anyone’s orders, she’s a free soul who decides every step. However, she isn’t reckless, each action she took is calculated and rationally think through, as she does not wish to take a step she regrets. That careful and meticulous approach made her seem wise–despite how young she looks–mature even. Well, but sometimes Salvie could be bratty too, since “her adorable looks is the biggest fraud” (quoted from Leo). She also has a bold personality, and that results in her sassing the great men fearlessly, yet that doesn’t mean she doesn’t respect them, in fact, it’s the opposite. She looked up to them greatly, as they were awesome enough to get their name engraved in history.  

Her biggest charm is definitely her carefree attitude. She’s just, y’know, damn chill. Salvie doesn’t have a care towards anything, therefore her pronouns and attire choices. Although her easy-going characteristics is an appeal, it’s sometimes a flaw as well. It made it difficult to get along with her as the specifics about her is unclear. Since she was so chill with everything, it’s certainly hard to pin down what are her favourites and stuff. Contradictorily, that light-hearted manner doesn’t apply to people. She unintentionally looks after people, even if she doesn’t want to care, she would still unknowingly do something for them, like leaving them a cup of tea on the table every morning. 

On the other hand though, kinda like Dazai, Salvie’s breezy and free demeanor makes it hard to grasp her true character, not mentioning the fact that she tends to sweep everything under the rug. She has a way with words that always, somehow, avoid the topic about herself, and that made her mysterious in a way. She was very quiet of her thoughts, especially things on her mind, rarely talking about her problems. She would tend to fend off questions about that with a gentle reassuring smile and a wispy attitude, as she disliked someone poking into her problems (and of course because she didn’t want to seem weak). 

HISTORY 

Backstory: Salvie was not recorded at any point in history, yet she was revived. She did not know why and did not question so. When she was first revived, she did not remember anything except her name. Dozens of questions were in her mind, yet there was no one to answer her. For what feels like an eternity, she wandered on the streets aimlessly until she met her kind. They were strong, independent, and raised her as if she was a newborn. Well, she was, kinda. The days gradually passed, and she too, came to understand that she had been reborn into a person–no, an immortal with unrestrained freedom, with unlimited time (not really, but you get the idea). As soon as she came to that conclusion, she bid goodbye to her friends, (guardians maybe?) and took a flight to achieve her dreams–to live how she wanted in her previous life. 

Family: Salvie doesn’t remember (or rather, it was insignificant to her) her family in her previous life. She only recognized the group of vampires that took her in as her guardians. 

Other history: How Salvie was involved in the mafia is… Well, chaotic. She was supposed to be on the tour with Count to Italy, to visit his long lost friend Leonardo, but along the way she somehow stumbled into an illegal gambling den, challenged the don (with very extreme conditions), defeated the don and accidentally become the new don of the mafia. After going through all the messy procedures, the news about a new mafia boss named  “Lord Salvatore” quickly spread through Italy. His nature was depicted as cruel and ruthless as he gets anything he wants, and no one stands in his way. Yet what’s weird was that the “Salvatore Family” was rumored to be civilized and noble, as they were ordered that no blood should be drawn unless it was required to. You can imagine the horror on Leo and Count’s face when they heard about this, and the compliments from her guardians. 

TRIVIA

Special abilities: None. (Her face as an instrument of deception)  Pet(s): A white horse named Vlad. Hobby: When she isn’t gambling or drinking, she will be out doing mafia business or just wandering somewhere else  Secret(s): Had a past lover who she later recalled and somehow disliked that shares the same name with her horse (which she then became devastated knowing that she named her horse after her past lover)  Habits: When she’s stressed or troubled, she will smoke from a pipe 

[bittykimmy13]

Change of Heart (GT)

Of course Ben and Lee couldn't be left out of the fun of the Print/Shot AU :') The majority of prints live in regulated communities. Ones that step out of line are put into the Mercy Program, where they are purchased by wealthy humans and treated as pets. Once an owner deems their print is "rehabilitated", the print may return to their community. After the third owner, however, the print is automatically transferred into a trinket body. Which, as we've seen, is so much WORSE. ANYWAY, this is a much lighter story compared to the past few. ENJOY :D Characters belong to me and the lovely @little-miss-maggie <3

(( More from the Print / Trinket Universe ))

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The fluorescent lights hanging above Lee did not allow him to finish the sleep he so desperately needed. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and turned his head, but the lights continued to glare through his eyelids. When he tried to roll onto his side, a deep ache shot through his body and startled him into alertness. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so sore. Memories from the night before rushed back. Raining. Three men darting out of the alley, dragging him into the shadows, beating the shit out of him. There had been no chance for him to fight back, not even a second of time to raise his hands and defend himself. He had sank down against the brick wall, and a tiny shout had come from his pocket. Ben had jumped out. And as the ache in Lee’s body spread deeper, that was the last thing he could remember. Possibilities raced through his mind. If the muggers had spotted Ben, no doubt they took him. If Ben had gotten away, it would be simple enough to track his cuff. It was the worst case scenario that made Lee shiver: in all the commotion, darkness, and rain, Ben could have been carelessly killed.

Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, he squinted his eyes open. For a second, he thought he was in a hotel room, but the IV drip by his bed told him otherwise. The bag of fluid was labeled with a logo for Kingston Luxury Hospital. The door was wide open, and he could hear the drone of several conversations coming from a nurses’ station. When he tried to sit up, he had to suppress a groan of pain. His gaze roved the room, taking in the amenities: a large TV mounted to the wall, elegantly-carved furniture, a nightstand that held a vase of flowers, a tissue box, a glass of water, and what looked like a service pager. Now if they could just get rid of the bright fucking lights, it would be heaven. He leaned over to reach for the pager, but a twitch of movement from across the room caught his eye. Ben. Ben was on a table next to the curtained window, sitting in a clear glass cage. Relief rushed through Lee at first, but it was quick to waver. Ben was in the corner of the container, legs drawn to his chest. He lifted his head and found Lee looking at him. The expression on that tiny face was unreadable from a distance, but there was something glum about the way Ben put his chin back down on his knees. Lee croaked out a chuckle. “Must be pretty disappointing for you that I lived, huh?” Ben didn’t respond. Shocking. Lee grabbed the pager by the bed and pushed the button that would alert the nurse’s station. In no time at all, a young woman with a black ponytail came prancing into the room. She beamed at him and came to a stop by his bed, folding her hands in front of her. “Good afternoon, Mr. Rhodes,” she said. “I’m Sally. You’re up sooner than we expected, but your vitals have been looking perfectly normal, all things considered. The doctor will be along later when she’s making her rounds in this wing. I’m sure the investigator will want to speak with you as well.” Lee leaned his head back on the pillows. “What the hell happened? I can’t remember anything after I was attacked. Did they get the guys who did it?” “Still on the run. I’m sorry. And it’s not surprising that you don’t remember much. You were in bad shape by the time the ambulance reached you.” Nodding, Lee turned his gaze over to Ben, who hurriedly looked away. “Any reason in particular he’s in there?” “It’s protocol,” Sally said, her pleasant tone untouched. “When a patient is in your sort of condition and there’s nowhere else to take a print, it needs to be contained.” She gave Lee a private smile. “We don’t run a babysitting service. And well, you should know… he was showing escapee tendencies when you were found.” “No shit,” Lee said, rolling his eyes. “Trying to hide?” “Worse. His tracking cuff had been removed, and your phone was on the ground behind a dumpster. Security footage shows that it fell out of your pocket during the attack and your print dragged it behind a garbage can during the commotion. He must have gone into the settings of your phone and deactivated his cuff.” “How’s that possible? My phone unlocks with my fingerprint.” She chewed her lip and shrugged. “It gets more disturbing. The footage shows that he dragged the phone back out when those thugs were gone. While you were unconscious, he used your finger to unlock it.” “Well, isn’t that fucking nice.” Lee turned a glare toward Ben. “It’s up to you how you want to proceed about all that,” Sally went on. “But for now, focus on your recovery.” Lee breathed out a weary sigh. “How did they find him, then? His cuff was off.” There was something tentative, almost uncomfortable, about Sally’s pause. She cleared her throat. “Well, he… he didn’t run off right away. The footage shows him lingering for a while near you before he ran off. It seems he went and got someone’s attention and led them to you.” He waited for her to laugh and say she was kidding. “Yeah, okay,” Lee scoffed. “What really happened?” “No, really,” she said. “Your print flagged down a couple who were walking down the block. They were concerned to see a cuffless print without an owner in sight, so they followed him to you. They’re the ones who called the ambulance and made sure your print didn’t go anywhere.” Her words sank in slowly. Even if his head wasn’t pounding, it would have taken a while to process. “You can’t be serious.” Lee pointed at Ben. “That print? That one right there?” She giggled. “I know. It’s odd, isn’t it? But that’s what I was told. Your print hasn’t said a word since you were brought in.” Lee turned his eyes to the glass container. “So you’re saying he saved me,” he said slowly. “And you… put him in a box.” “Well, I didn’t,” Sally said, confusion tainting the corners of her smile. “Like I said, Mr. Rhodes, it’s protocol—” “Take him out of there.” Sally pursed her lips, brow pinching as though waiting for him to take back his words and say he was joking. When he did no such thing, she threaded her fingers together in front of her and laughed uncomfortably. “Sir, you’re in no condition to manage your print. Is there anything else I can do for you?” “Nope. The only thing you can do for me is take him out of there.” “Mr. Rhodes. His cuff wasn’t located in the scramble to get you here, so it would violate the general Mercy Program legislation to not have him contained in some—” “Sorry,” Lee laid in overtop her. “What I meant to say was, take him the fuck out of there and bring him to me, unless you want to wager if I can make you lose your job in three phone calls or less.” She gave an outraged little scoff, her friendly energy going out like a light. When she didn’t move, Lee lifted his eyebrows in an I’m-dead-serious manner that finally spurred her to the other side of the room. She hesitated, then reached into the open top of the glass container. Ben finally reacted, shrinking against the corner, but there was nowhere for him to go. Sally managed to get her hand around his waist and lift him out. “Where do you want him?” she asked flatly, striding back to the bed. “Nightstand.” He frowned when she came closer and he spotted a dark red gash on Ben’s arm, caked with dried blood. There were dark splotches along his skin too that could either be dirt or bruising. On top of that, he looked a shade paler than death. Lee looked at Sally in disbelief. “He’s hurt. This is a fucking hospital—why would he still be like this?” “We’re not authorized to treat prints.” Lee groaned, watching as Ben staggered away from Sally’s hand when she set him down on the nightstand. The print kept his gaze pointed downward, standing stiffly with his hurt arm clutched against himself. Lee was prepared to order Sally to help Ben, to hell with what was authorized, but when he eyed her scowling face, he had the feeling she might do more harm than good if she got her hands on Ben again. “Bring salve,” Lee said instead. “The good stuff.” Sally wavered, jaw dropping in protest. “Hey, wanna make it two phone calls or less?” Lee said gamely. “I’m feeling pretty lucky right now, near-death experience and all.” Once she hurried off, Lee propped himself up to sit in bed. He winced at the ache that mercilessly pounded his body. He had to have been in pretty bad shape if he was still feeling this much punishment. Grabbing one of the pillows stacked under his head, he set it on his lap and turned his attention to the nightstand. Ben gasped and flinched away from the approach of Lee’s hand, shaking his head pleadingly. Lee sighed, completing the motion regardless and closing his fingers around Ben’s middle. “I know you don’t like this,” Lee said. “But that cut’s gonna get infected if it doesn’t get fixed up.” After Ben was set down on the pillow, he scooted back and tucked his arm close against himself. He kept his wide eyes trained down, his little body wired with tension. Lee chewed his lip, eyeing the scrapes and grime that had gone ignored on Ben’s exposed arms. “Ridiculous,” Lee muttered, reaching aside to swipe a tissue from the box on the nightstand. “I guarantee you, this hospital is full of people whining over papercuts, and not one of these nurses could stop for one fucking minute…” He wrapped the tissue around his finger and wet the tip of it in the glass of water. Cupping his other hand around Ben, Lee could feel him shivering. Lee proceeded to wipe away the grime from his good arm, along with a patch of dirt on the side of his neck. Frustrated as he was, Lee was glad to have something to focus on besides actual conversation. Luckily, Sally came back in and offered further distraction, if only for a moment. She sulkily placed a capped bottle of salve on the bed. “Let me know when you’re done with it, please,” she said. “I’ll get into trouble if—” “Shut the door on your way out,” Lee said. With a huff, she strode out, sealing Lee and Ben in silence. “I need your arm.” Lee adjusted the tissue so that he wouldn’t be rubbing dirt into the wound. “Come on—don’t be like that. I need to clean it first.” Ben still didn’t move. Lee sighed and reached in with his other hand, gently pinching Ben’s wrist to pull his arm out. Ben’s breathing became quicker, more frantic, but he didn’t try to wrench himself away, thankfully. He merely kept his wide eyes on his arm, as though he might be seeing it for the last time. “How’d you get this anyway?” Lee asked, narrowing his eyes at the sliced flesh. Swallowing hard, Ben uttered, “Your phone w-was cracked.” Lee clenched his jaw. Gentle as he could, he cleaned the wound and the blood caked around it. With that out of the way, he released Ben long enough to grab the salve and uncap it. “This’ll sting,” Lee warned after applying a dab of salve to his fingertip. He secured Ben’s arm again and kept a firm grip, prepared for Ben to flinch away upon contact. “But it won’t feel any worse than getting sliced in the first place.” Ben’s face contorted with pain as Lee applied the salve. Hissing, Ben tried to tug his arm back, but Lee kept his stubborn hold to make sure the medicine was rubbed in. The moment Lee let go, Ben reclaimed his arm and fell to his side. Wheezing, he stared at his arm. Amazement dawned on his face as the redness of the wound began to dull. “See?” Lee said. “Not so bad. It’ll be closed up in no time.” The amazement on Ben’s face fled. “What’s the point?” “What do you mean?” A pause. Ben sat up, but his shoulders were slumped with despair. “I… I’m not going to be in this body for much longer.” He looked up, and Lee was shocked to see tears rapidly pooling in his eyes. Ben made a choked sound, his words almost lost. “So, w-what’s the point of fixing me up?” As realization dawned, Lee was speechless for once. And Ben, just as uncharacteristically, was the one to fill the silence. There were too many expressions on his face to identify in isolation: anger, sorrow, desperation, regret. “Please,” Ben croaked. “Please, don’t send me back. Even if you weren’t my third owner… if they find out I-I got my cuff off, that would mean a direct sentence to the Trinket Program.” Ben’s frantic breaths became overcome with sobs that hit Lee like punches. “I… I won’t fight anymore! I won’t do it again, j-just… please. I’ll be exactly how you want me to be. I’ll be p-perfect, I swear!” Lee flinched his hand closer, brushing his fingertips against Ben’s spine and the back of his head. Ben buried his face in his hands and ducked his head as if he was about to be snatched up. Lee’s fingers settled gently, making no move to coil around Ben’s shivering  body. “You really think I’m going to turn you in?” Lee asked in a hushed voice. “Y-you… you said I was on my last chance. You said if I-I—” “Yeah, I know what I said, but…” Lee’s eyes trailed to the empty space on Ben’s wrist that the cuff normally occupied. He wondered what it must have felt like, to have a brush with freedom and decide to throw it away. “I don’t get it,” Lee admitted. “You saved me.” Ben kept his head down and sniffled. Didn’t answer. “You… you had a chance,” Lee said, desperate to follow his logic. “You got the cuff off. Why did you go looking for someone to help me?” Ben mumbled something. Lee angled himself closer, cocking his head to listen. “What?” “I couldn’t tell if you were breathing,” Ben half-shouted. Though he lifted his head, his gaze remained pointed down, uncooperative for even a second of eye contact. Scoffing, Lee shook his head incredulously. “So what?” Heaving an exhausted sigh, Ben didn’t elaborate. “I’m just trying to understand,” Lee insisted. “I thought you hated me.” Ben’s eyes finally darted up, rife with frustration. “That doesn’t mean I could leave you to die! I was the only one besides those thugs who knew you were there. If I hadn’t done something… it would be as if I killed you myself.” Lee stared until Ben lost his nerve and started to shy away. Pulling his fingertips away from Ben’s back, Lee gingerly tilted his chin up. Ben flinched, but he met Lee’s eyes again. “Thank you,” Lee said. Ben clenched his jaw. “You… you’re really not sending me to the Facility?” “No. Fuck no.” Dropping his hand, Lee shut his eyes for a moment. He could feel the drugs and exhaustion lacing his body beginning to drag him back under. He swore that Ben was starting to look the same kind of weary too, now that relief had to be settling in. “That salve is great,” Lee said. “But it takes energy from your body to do its stuff. I know you couldn’t have gotten any sleep in that thing.” He nodded at the glass case and pulled his hands away from Ben completely. “So, just stay right here. Lay down and get some rest.” Ben reacted immediately, laying down with what could only be frightened obedience. As if Lee might change his mind if he didn’t do exactly as he was told. “That… I mean, that wasn’t an order,” Lee said, face flushing. He leaned back, putting his head on the pillow behind him, and sighed. “Listen. If they come and try to put you back in that thing or take you away, just shout for me. Understand?” When Ben didn’t answer, Lee looked down at the pillow on his lap. There was still abundant fear on Ben’s face, along with a heavy dose of skepticism that Lee couldn’t blame him for having. “I mean it,” Lee said. “Understand?” Ben hesitated, then nodded. Without a word, he laid down with his back to Lee.