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fly-pow-bye · 3 years

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What’s Airing On Cartoon Network? (July 2021)

While we’re in a rather empty spot for the network, Cartoon Network decided to add another show that was made for HBO Max to its television lineup: Looney Tunes Cartoons! Also, The Fungies continue their airing on television, and there’s new episodes of Total Dramarama and DC Super Hero Girls. More after the break.

Craig of the Creek

For completion’s sake, I’ll list the Craig of the Creek episodes here too.

June 28th:

Capture the Flag Part 1: The Candy - When mysterious circumstances cause issues at the Trading Tree, Craig tries to save the day! (10:00 AM)

June 29th:

Capture the Flag Part 2: The King - The Creek gets help from an unlikely friend. (10:00 AM)

June 30th:

Capture the Flag Part 3: The Legend - Craig goes in search of answers, and finds a legend. (10:00 AM)

July 1st:

Capture the Flag Part 4: The Plan - Craig puts a plan into motion to save the Creek. (10:00 AM)

July 2nd:

Capture the Flag Part 5: The Game - It all comes down to this, the fate of the Creek is at stake! (10:00 AM)

DC Super Hero Girls

July 4th:

#AngerManagement - When Jess coerces Kara into addressing her anger management issues, Supergirl's superhero abilities become seriously compromised! (8:00 AM)

#HappyBirthdayZee - Zatanna makes a birthday wish that forces her to confront the dark side of her magic. (8:15 AM)

July 11th:

#TheGreenRoom - When Jessica is faced with a Green Lantern Corps disciplinary hearing, Hal appoints himself to be her Peer Advocate. (8:00 AM)

#EnterNightSting - Karen is given a mission to prevent the apocalypse by DeathSting, a super-cool future version of herself. (8:15 AM)

July 18th:

#WorldsFinest - When PR whiz Max Lord tells Batgirl and Supergirl he can improve their image by doing publicity stunts, the two friends forget what being a hero is really about. (8:00 AM)

#WorkingStiff - After Babs hooks Karen up with a job at the Burrito Bucket, the two heroes encounter a new villain, the scourge of the fast-food underworld, the Condiment King! (8:15 AM)

July 25th:

#MultipliciZee - Zee magically duplicates herself so she can shirk work and watch TV. Things get out of hand when her copies start to make copies of themselves! (8:00 AM)

#TheMinus - Diana receives her first ever A-minus and becomes convinced that she needs to work harder, however, in order to do so, she resorts to rather drastic measures. (8:15 AM)

The Fungies

July 9th:

Sir Tree's Boy - Seth agrees to take care of Sir Tree's wooden boy, Boy Joy, but quickly pawns him off on Mertha. When Seth discovers that Sir Tree needs his boy back in order to survive, he must stage a heist to steal Boy Joy back before it's too late! (8:00 AM)

Commander Beefy - Seth, eager to explore the stars and find a fellow explorer, sends a signal to space. But the explorer who receives the message, Commander Beefy, has his own shady plans for Earth... (8:15 AM)

July 16th:

The Fanciest Fungie - Seth, frustrated that the Fancies are too caught up in the Fanciest Fancy pageant to listen to his warning about a fungus-eating bacteria, enters the pageant to get his message out. But when he gets sucked into the pageant, he'll have to face the consequences of getting distracted. (8:00 AM)

Snake It to the Limit - When Seth agrees to let an athletic snake replace his arm so he can finally be good at volleyball, he learns he doesn't need a fancy snake arm to make his teammates happy; he just needs to try. (8:15 AM)

July 23th:

Nevin's Cocoon - After a beautiful statue makes Nevin self-conscious about his own looks, Seth helps seal Nevin in a cocoon so that he may turn into a beautiful butterfly. (8:00 AM)

Cool Kids - When Pascal becomes obsessed with a group of cool kids, Seth promises to use his science skills to help Pascal become cool. But is coolness as cool as it seems? (8:15 AM)

July 30th:

Mermove Out - Seth is having a hard time sharing a room with messy Pascal and needs a change. But instead of being honest about the situation, Seth makes Pascal a mermaid tail so that his brother can finally move out-into the ocean! (8:00 AM)

Happy Birthday Nancy - Seth wants his mom to have the best birthday ever, so he creates his own currency in order to buy her an expensive gift. But he learns a little too late that counterfeiting is a crime, putting Nancy's birthday at risk of being ruined. (8:15 AM)

Looney Tunes Cartoons

July 5th:

Curse of the Monkeybird/Marvin Flag Gag: Deflating Planet/Harm Wrestling - Daffy Duck and Porky Pig search for hidden treasure. No one messes with arm-wrestling champ Yosemite Sam - until Bugs Bunny comes along. (9:00 AM)

Big League Beast/Hole Gag: Mini Elmer/Firehouse Frenzy -When Bugs overstays his welcome, an evil scientist unleashes Gossamer to get rid of him. Daffy Duck and Porky Pig make lousy firefighters. (9:15 AM)

July 6th:

Boo! Appetweet/Hole Gag: Plunger/Bubble Dum - Sweet victory turns into a nightmare when Sylvester fears he's haunted by Tweety's ghost. Daffy Duck faces off with a pesky piece of gum. (9:00 AM)

Pain in the Ice/Tunnel Vision/Pool Bunny - A hungry Sylvester sets his sights on Tweety, the ice skater. On a scorching hot day, Bugs Bunny makes himself at home in Elmer Fudd's pool. (9:15 AM)

July 7th:

Pest Coaster/Rhino Ya Don't - Bugs tries to ride a roller coaster, but Yosemite Sam is determined to stop him. At the zoo, Sylvester's lunch plans are foiled by a rhino. (9:00 AM)

Buzzard School/Marvin Flag Gag: Giant Alien Mouth/Wet Cement - Bugs Bunny enrolls Beaky Buzzard in Rabbit Hunting 101. Daffy wreaks havoc on Porky's wet cement. (9:15 AM)

July 8th:

Siberian Sam/Hole Gag: Fishing Pole/Fleece and Desist/Marvin Flag Gag: Mirror/Split Screen Marvin - In need of a new hat, Siberian Sam feasts his eyes on Bugs Bunny. Sam Sheepdog protects his herd from a hungry Ralph Wolf. (9:00 AM)

Grilled Rabbit/Cactus if You Can/Shower Shuffle - Elmer Fudd interrogates Bugs about a theft. Wile E. Coyote's plan to catch the Road Runner gets prickly. Daffy and Porky have shower troubles. (9:15 AM)

July 9th:

Overdue Duck/Hole Gag: Bees/Vincent Van Fudd - At the library, Porky Pig tries to silence a troublemaking Daffy Duck. Bugs Bunny interrupts Elmer Fudd's attempt to be a great artist. (9:00 AM)

Hare Restoration/TNT Trouble/Plumbers Quack - A self-interested Bugs gives Elmer Fudd dating advice. Wile E. Coyote runs into some dynamite problems. Elmer's leaky sink is no match for Daffy. (9:15 AM)

July 12th:

Daffuccino/Hole Gag: Moving Hole/Kitty Livin - Before his new coffee shop goes from grand opening to grand closing, Porky must impress an influential customer. Sylvester may have swallowed more than he can chew when he manages to trap Tweety... inside his stomach! (9:00 AM)

Chain Gangster/Telephone Pole Gag: Sylvester Car Jack Lift/Falling for It - Two bank robbers need Bugs' help to break out of jail. Daffy convinces Porky to go skydiving but forgets one important little thing... (9:15 AM)

July 13th:

Taziator/Marvin Flag Gag: Little Martian/Climate Control - Bugs faces off against Taz in a Roman coliseum. Wile E. Coyote orders a weather control kit, but his chances of catching the Road Runner remain cloudy. (9:00 AM)

Lepre-conned/Flag Won't Stay Straight/Brave New Home - Bugs is looking for Hawaii but finds Ireland and an angry leprechaun instead. Porky's new home has all the modern amenities anyone could hope for, including a computerized assistant - but the voice recognition software could use an update. (9:15 AM)

July 14th:

The Case of Porky's Pants/Fully Vetted - Detective Daffy takes on the case of Porky's missing pants. Tweety's trip to the veterinarian's office gives Sylvester the perfect opportunity for a lunchtime treat. (9:00 AM)

E-Rabbitcator/ Planet Split in 2/The Sales Duck - Bugs must outsmart a new technological foe. Elmer is ready for bed, but persistent salesman Daffy stands in the way of a good night's rest. (9:15 AM)

July 15th:

Pitcher Porky/Cherry Picker/Duck Duck Boom - Benchwarmer Porky finally gets his chance to shine on the pitching mound. With the game on the line, he needs all the help he can get - even if it's from Daffy. Elmer sets his sights on Daffy, but who's hunting whom? (9:00 AM)

Postal Geist/Anvil/Fudds Bunny - Porky and Daffy deliver packages to a haunted manor. Elmer's plan to disguise himself as a bunny to lure Bugs out of his hole doesn't quite go as planned. (9:15 AM)

July 16th:

Shoe Shine-nanigans/Multiply and Conquer/Parky Pig - Elmer visits Daffy for a quick shoeshine. Porky is running late for movie night but finding a parking spot is easier said than done. (9:00 AM)

Shell Shocked/Daffy Dentist - Bugs races against Cecil Turtle for the "fastest thing in New York City" title. The only thing more painful than Porky's sore tooth is a visit to dentist Daffy. (9:15 AM)

Total Dramarama

July 5th:

Breaking Bite - Beth becomes the big dog on campus after she bites Duncan, but being the big dog is a dangerous thing, especially when you didn't actually bite anybody! (5:00 PM)

July 6th:

I Dream of Meanie - When Cody keeps screaming in his sleep Gwen and Duncan take a trip into Cody's dreams to see what is scaring him. (5:00 PM)

July 7th:

Squirrels Squirrels Squirrels - Courtney's attempt to make Chef a better teacher fails when a squirrel gets his hands on her mind-control device. (5:00 PM)

July 8th:

Say Hello to my Little Friends - After telling the kids he will not miss them over the long weekend Chef locks himself into the school and finds out he was very, very wrong. (5:00 PM)

July 12th:

WaterHose-Five - The hottest day of the year and a broke air conditioner leads to a water battle of epic proportions to determine who controls the garden hose. (5:00 PM)

July 13th:

Cody the Barbarian - Cody is set to inherit a video game empire from his long-lost uncle, but only if he and his friends have what it takes to conquer a fantastical live-action video game. (5:00 PM)

July 14th:

TP2: Judgement Bidet - When the city experiences a toilet paper shortage Beth and Harold investigate and discover it's their old rival Sewer Mike who is the mastermind behind it all. (5:00 PM)

July 15th:

Dial B for Birder - Harold uncovers a secret plot that Chef's new parrot is hatching and tries to save his teacher only to discover that Sugar figured it out before him. Or did she? (5:00 PM)

July 19th:

A Hole Lot of Trouble - When rain derails an outside game of catch someone suggests they play it inside. This prompts Izzy to lead the group through her wildly imaginative worst-case scenario. It's an adventure so scary that the kids many never play again. (5:00 PM)

July 20th:

A Tell Tale - After Owen's BBF, Noah, goes through a growth spurt, Owen fears losing his friend and takes drastic action. (5:00 PM)

July 21st:

Chews Wisely - When the floor ends up covered in gum on the day of a big bubble blowing contest, Sugar decides she might help herself win by helping her friends get stuck to the floor. (5:00 PM)

July 22nd:

A Dingo Ate My Duncan - When all their classmates are replaced with well-behaved Australian doppelgangers in a school exchange program, Lightning and Cody start getting suspicious. (5:00 PM)

#fpb news #dc super hero girls #the fungies #looney tunes #looney tunes cartoons #cartoon network #total dramarama

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drcaligostoloboto · 4 years

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Hi guys! In this post, I will tell you why I find the relationship between Dr. Loboto and Coach Oldeander very interesting. And no, it's not just because they worked together in the first game that I find it interesting. I have many other reasons that I will mention. This analysis will also have spoilers related to Psychonauts 2 so don't read if you don't want to be spoiled... Let's go!

First I'm going to talk about the similarities between them two:

• They have the same voice actor who is none other than Nick Jameson. This one also makes the voice of Mr. Pokeylope in the first game and the Psychonauts Operator in Rhombus of Ruin. And I find it just great. Their voices are so different. Loboto's voice is high, while Oleander's is low. Nick Jameson is really talented and I think it's great.

• Loboto is blue and Oleander is orange. And we all know that blue and orange are complementary colors.

• Loboto is tall and Oleander is small. This honestly goes well together in terms of "partner in crime".

• They both have a scar on their face.

• Loboto lost his right arm and Oleander lost sight of his right eye.

• They both wanted to be a sailor. In Rhombus of Ruin, we can see that Loboto clearly wanted to be one. Part of his mind is a giant bathtub with a boat and in this boat there is First Mate Loboto who is none other than a sailor. When he was a child, he literally wore a sailor outfit. And he did a lot of experiments on fish. Linda in the first game and all the fish guards in the midquel game. All this is related to the marine world. And his skin is just blue as the sea. Just saying.

Oleander talks about the Navy a lot. So much so that in Rhombus of Ruin, he is very happy when he has a mermaid tail and says he would like the Navy to see him now. Being a sailor would certainly have been his dream job but alas, he was too short. And he also can’t swim because of his stumpy legs.

• They both have a problem with their parents. (But who doesn’t in the Psychonauts world, honestly?) Loboto's parents outright lobotomized their son just because he was psychic and Oleander's father slaughtered his precious little bunny right in from of him. These events are truly tragic.

• The Whispering Rock Pamphlet. Oleander wrote this pamphlet. And this pamphlet says "You were born with a special gift. But the people around you treat it like a curse. Your mother is afraid of you, and your father looks at you with shame in his eyes." And it makes me think so much of Loboto. Because that's what happened to him. His mother was afraid of him and his father most certainly looked at him with shame in his eyes. And Oleander wrote that. And in my opinion, it seems very personal. Oleander's family surely saw him too this way. And so it's a big point in common between Loboto and him.

• They are both at least into men. Let me explain.

In Rhombus of Ruin, we learn that Oleander likes the boy band "All Paul". Three male mermaids singing love songs. And he's a big fan of them. He even sings one of their songs which is “Drag Me Down”. The fish guards draw each characters during the game. And they drew Oleander with the members of All Paul with hearts all around them. As you can see in the picture below.

In Psychonauts 2, there is a small detail that we can miss if we are not careful. But in his mind, there are a lot of posters and one of them shows two male teeth in love. And the elements of an individual's mind say a lot about his personality.

So, Oleander and Loboto are either gay or bi. And it’s wonderful to think about it.

• The song Drag Me Down. This song is sung by Oleander but did you know that this song is also found on Loboto's computer in his laboratory in the Rhombus? It would mean that Loboto is a fan of All Paul too and it's fun to think about it. It's also a song about a breakup. In my opinion, this could be related to the fact that Oleander and Loboto no longer work together. If we analyze few lyrics from it, it can really be about them. “ When we met it was the best thing that I've known “, “I gave you everything you asked” (Reference to Loboto giving Linda to Oleander?) and “Never worried it wouldn't last but we are”. Oleander probably never worried that it could end but alas... A turtle named Pokeylope decided otherwise by blasting his partner. A tragic and true story.

• They both like to dance. Loboto always takes those little dance steps that we see in the first game and Ror, when he turns on himself. And Oleander dances when he sings "Drag Me Down", proving that he likes it as well.

• Raz saw them both when they were young children in their minds. Also, the first level in Psychonauts is Oleander’s mind and the first level in Psychonauts 2 is Loboto’s mind.

That’s all about the similarities, now I’m going to talk about the three games.

Psychonauts:

• In the first game, they worked together and they had a lot of fun together.

Just... Look at them.

They are just completely evil together. Partners in crime, after all.

• Loboto was very excited about taking over the world, too. In this cutscene where we see him talking with Lili we can clearly see his excitement over this. So, Loboto also wanted to be a part of it. Imagine, if he and Oleander had succeeded... The world will be complete chaos! Full of teeth and brains!

Rhombus of Ruin:

Although they do not interact in the midquel game, there are still some crisp info.

• Loboto talks about Oleander saying he has "a touch of halitosis". Halitosis is bad breath. Given their size difference, how does he know? Loboto is like... Twice Oleander’s height as you can see in the picture below.

To be realistic, I think that since Loboto is a dentist he most certainly wanted to check the condition of Oleander's teeth and realized that it was a complete mess. Or maybe he kissed him and that’s how he knew.

• Loboto will say that he doesn't want this "little fellow" (Oleander) to learn about his new client. He thinks he wouldn’t like to know he was moonlighting. Why does Loboto care about it? Suspicious.

• If you don’t enter his mind at immediately, Loboto begins to speak by himself by saying dialogues of events he has experienced from the past. And he talks a lot about Oleander. He says: “That army man... What was he thinking? Psychoblaster Death Tanks?” and he laughs. But his laugh is natural, it’s not an usual crazy laugh like he always do. He also says: “Are you trying to impress girls... OR TAKE OVER THE WORLD? And you do NOT want to know what kind of gas mileage those things got.” which is... very funny to me.

• Oleander is the one who will come with his psycho-portal to give it to Raz. So in a way we can say that it is thanks to Oleander that Loboto has his moral compass back.

Psychonauts 2:

We don't know a lot about the game yet but a demo was released last summer, in June 2019, I absolutely love it. Loboto and Oleander interacted in it.

• As you can see in the pictures above, Oleander put his arm around Loboto. (Did he touch his butt?!) And he is very friendly towards him. I know they're supposed to be "acting" for Loboto to reveal who his boss is. But let's agree... Oleander is way too friendly with him.

• Oleander calls Loboto "Cal", not even Caligosto or Loboto like the others do. He calls him by a nickname. First name basis is a very friendly thing.

• He says to Loboto that he is going to love that vacation package and that he’s jealous. And then he looks at him and his eyes shine. I honestly think he’s the one who make this little package, by the way. He also looks very proud of him.

• He also says “Maybe he doesn’t want those tropical vacations after all!” and “Hurry up or I”ll take those vacations myself!” he teased him at least twice.

• And he acts very “gentlemanly” toward him. Just look at the pictures above.

Oleander is a true, a real... GENTLEMAN! A man of good manner, I see.

• Bonus: Loboto vision. Oleander is... SO SMALL!

• In another scene, Oleander and Raz face a censor. Oleander begins to explain to Raz what a censor is and what they do, everything seems to be fine until he gets to the "Don't belong" part. Oleander realizes this and displays a sad face. He even looks at the ground, for a second, in silence as if he was thinking of something. Maybe he feels sad because Loboto doesn't see him as a friend but a threat and that's why he looks so... thoughtful.

• In this same scene, he begins to flee. (Colliding with a chair, by the way) He is certainly fleeing because he does not want the censor to expel him. Leaving Raz to take care of all the work.

Name a better duo than Oleander and this chair, I’ll wait.

That’s all about the games. Now mind if I share two... Headcanons?

Headcanons:

• I think Loboto and Oleander are the same age and that they were born in the 50s. Which would mean they lived their childhood in the 60s.

Let's talk about their parents.

First of all, Oleander’s dad.

When I did my research, I wanted to find out what a butcher looked like in the 60s and this is the image I found.

Pretty similar clothes to the ones Oleander’s dad wears.

See? It honestly looks very similar.

Now let’s talk about Loboto’s parents and especially about his mom.

Image below is how dresses looked in the 60s.

And this is Loboto’s mom:

It’s the same kind of dress...

...So, Loboto’s parents and Oleander’s dad are from the same time.

And by "time", I mean the 60s.

Even the clothes Oleander and Loboto wore when they were kids, have 60s vibes, in my opinion... So! This would mean they’re the same age or around the same age. If we assume that the events of Psychonauts are in 2003, it would mean that in the events of the games, they are either in their early 40, or in their mid-40. Even late 40 or early 50 if they were born before 1955.

• My second headcanon is that I think they know each others for years. The legend of the monster in the lake (Linda) is apparently very old. And we all know who made Linda looking this way. It was Loboto. So, it would mean that Loboto and Oleander have worked on that for a very looooooooooong time. That would also explain why Oleander calls Loboto “Cal” in the PN2 demo. Because they were friends since a very long time. Maybe they even knew each others before that. Could be honestly cute if they were childhood friends, to be honest.

...Well! That’s all about my analysis. Their relationship sure is interesting and if you’ve read the whole thing then... Thank you! I wonder what will happen to them exactly in the second game. I could see them being a team again honestly. They fit so well together and not especially in the romantic way. I think that they could be a great team. Maybe they will both win the employee of the year award in Psychonauts 2 and going to tropical vacations together? Maybe even they will explore the world instead of taking over it? We’ll see!

#Psychonauts #dr. loboto #coach oleander #caligosto loboto #morceau oleander #my post

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disappearinginq · 5 years

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New Chapter for Bad Things Happen

And another square off of Bad Things Happen Bingo Card!

Here on Fanfiction.net: Bad Things Happen

Here on AO3: Bad Things Happen

And here below the cut!

Magnum didn’t even have time to duck. He was already turning towards the suspect when Higgins shouted a warning, which came two seconds too late and he caught the full swing of the shovel to the side of his face with an audible crack, rocking his head back so fast he saw stars.

Thomas staggered backwards, his hand immediately going to his face as he felt blood well up on his tongue where his teeth sliced into his cheek.

He knew it was broken even before his vision cleared. Knew it. He felt the bone shift under his fingers as he kept his hand in place, shock more than anything keeping him from trying to speak. Shock was weird. Rationally, Thomas knew it hurt like hell. Could taste copper on his tongue and tried not to gag as he accidentally swallowed some of it rather than open his mouth or even attempt to move it.

It just felt…numb. Like a shot of Novocain from the dentist. A numbness that radiated from the corner of his jaw all the way across the side of his face. Experience told him it was temporary – as soon as his brain caught up, it was going to hurt like hell.

It took him a moment to even realize that Higgins was trying to talk to him, and he had to forcefully make himself try and decipher what she was asking him.

“-maybe next time duck?” she suggested archly, raising an eyebrow in disdain.

Duck? When he was standing five feet away from a suspect he wasn’t even arresting who was supposed to be under the control of two uniformed police officers? Who, up until he got ahold of a landscaping shovel, had been entirely compliant with the police commands and expressed no signs of aggression?

When he’d only turned around because she’d made a snide remark about being dragged out on another case he hadn’t actually invited her on?

“Let me see,” she ordered, and reached for his hand that was currently holding his jaw in place.

He slapped her hand away with his free one, glowering at her. He hadn’t forgotten how easily she dismissed three broken ribs and getting nailed by a sedan hard enough to break the windshield. The last thing he felt like listening to was another lecture about how he needed to ‘man up’ despite breaking bones getting hit by gardening materials. Or comments about welcoming the peace and quiet she was sure to have if he couldn’t talk.

Higgins recoiled, frowning, and for a moment, he thought she was going to realize it wasn’t just bruising, which he honestly wasn’t sure he knew what to do with. She’d never expressed concern before, and honestly, he wasn’t that great at taking it unless it was from his family. But just as quickly, the moment was gone, replaced by familiar contempt he still wasn’t sure what he did to incur.

“Fine. Honestly, you would think you were made of glass,” she grumbled. The look she shot him was of utter disdain – the same one she had when she accused him of ‘man-splaining’ having a positive outlook doing door to doors, or when she thought he wasn’t suitably embarrassed at being hired to find children’s pets.

Katsumoto hardly even glanced in his direction except to see he was still standing. “Maybe think about staying out of it next time, huh?”

Really? He thought. He didn’t even realize he was in the middle of an HPD investigation until Katsumoto showed up to tackle his suspect at the Home Depot gardening center.

“What, no snappy comeback?” Higgins jibed. Thomas could tell she was waiting for him to do or say something, rather than just hold his hand against his mouth, pantomiming ‘speak no evil’, and for a split second, there was that flash of real concern – the same as when he was in the hospital after being hit by a car – and then….

“If you’re going to be a truculent child, you can sit over by the car. I’ll see what he knows about our client.”

Essentially, go to Time Out. Fine. Thomas made a mental note to ask Robin again how and why he knew Higgins well enough to have her employed as an estate manager, because it better be a corker of a story.

He offered a rude gesture as soon as the majordomo’s back was turned, and one of the uni’s snickered as they lead the now much more restrained suspect away to the squad car.

His mouth was beginning to throb. In a terrible catch 22. It hurt to touch, but he didn’t want to move his hand holding it relatively in place, because the pull of gravity was going to be worse. He knew it was starting to swell, and he wondered if – hoped – it was just the bone that broke. Bones could heal. Teeth, on the other hand…

As he considered walking back to the Ferrari, it suddenly occurred to him he was stuck.

Last he knew, 911 didn’t take texts, and he couldn’t drive with just one hand. He was either going to have to wait for Higgins and Katsumoto to be done – which could be minutes or hours, depending on how the investigation went, and despite her prickly attitude towards him, he knew she would at least do right by his client. One of them had to – and it wasn’t going to be him. Possibly one of the uniforms could take him, but given how much of a stickler Katsumoto was for rules and regs, he doubted they would be any more willing to help him, and he didn’t really want to try and get through to them what he needed.

Not like he had a pen and paper handy to communicate, and he hated texting because he was awful at it. God only knew what autocorrect was going to come up with.

A memory of a less than friendly hand on a dislocated jaw, forcibly snapping it back into place flashed through his mind.

Nope. Not happening.

Option two, then.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a short text to Rick. It was Thursday, so TC was at football practice. Even if he wanted to come, it would mean he’d have to cut practice short, call all the parents to come get their kids unexpectedly early, wait for them to be picked up and then come get him.

Rick, on the other hand, would be busy stocking the bar for Thirsty Thursday for Fleet Week, and had enough employees to cover him long enough for Rick to come pick him up.

Almost immediately, Rick responded. Good timing. The real work was about to start. Be there in a few.

Thomas fought the urge to smirk, because god knew how much that was gonna hurt. He considered for a moment the best place to wait. The Ferrari was a first instinct, but it wasn’t exactly in the shade, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally get blood all over the Italian leather interior and give Higgins one more grievance to file against him.

He put his back to the squad car and allowed himself to slide to the ground and into the minimal shade offered by the car. The King Kamehameha wasn’t too far. Rick should be here before someone had to move the vehicle. He’d be fine. Just had to think of something besides the growing throb that was now shooting from his jaw up past his eye.

He really, really wished he had an ice pack though.

*(*

The text was a little weird. Come pick up Thomas at the nearby Home Depot because he needed a ride. Knowing Thomas, that could mean any one of a hundred things. He’d wrecked the Ferrari. The Ferrari had been repo’d again. He somehow got separated from the vehicle and needed a ride back to it. He had to separate from Higgins for a case, and was letting her take the car, and now needed another ride. Ferrari broke down. Any one of a hundred different benign reasons that shouldn’t mean anything too serious.

Except Thomas didn’t like to text. He claimed it took too long, and he would rather just talk to someone than send a message, and texts could be from anyone who had the phone. He didn’t know if it went through, or if it was ignored, or someone didn’t hear it, et cetera. Rick wasn’t sure why Thomas always felt the need to justify little things like that, but he let it slide.

Stranger still, the text wasn’t spelled out in whole sentence. Just a weird mish mash of autocorrect emojis and symbols with the address for the store, like Thomas was typing with only one hand. Badly.

And Thomas didn’t answer the phone when Rick called him to let him know he was in the parking lot, where should he meet him? Which sent already hinky feelings spiraling towards flat out dread.

There were at least three squad cars outside the garden center, and Katsumoto’s inconspicuous Chevy along with them. Rick winced. The detective wasn’t his least favorite person, but generally, he and Thomas got along about as well as water and oil. Especially if they were working opposite ends of a case, which seemed to be happening more and more frequently.

Whatever they were doing, the cops looked busy searching for something. Or possibly someone? Except they already had at least one person sitting in the back of a squad car, who didn’t appear very happy.

Rick searched the faces of the HPD and crime scene investigators, spotting Higgins and Katsumoto off to one side conferring with another detective he didn’t recognize. He expected Thomas to be close by – that man was always in the thick of it, whether he tried to be or not. He was a cosmic mess like that.

But he wasn’t.

In fact, it took almost a minute to find Magnum, and if it hadn’t been for the garish red and white Hawaiian shirt he had on, he doubted he would’ve seen him at all.

The smaller man was sitting off to the side, completely away from the activity, back against the squad car tire and legs folded underneath him as he pressed both hands to his face, looking for all the world like a child stuck in the corner for misbehaving.

Which, knowing Higgins and Katsumoto, that might actually be what happened. He just never imagined Thomas would listen to either one of them.

“Hey, Thomas, I got your message, you wanna…” he trailed off, question forgotten before he could finish it.

Thomas looked up as soon as he heard Rick’s voice, but he managed to do it without moving his face. Or his hands. And remained silent.

Everything about it was red flag. But Thomas didn’t look too bad. And if he’d been really hurt, Katsumoto or Higgins would’ve made sure he was seen by a doctor, or at the very least, sent him off with one of the uniformed officers to the ER. Hell, he’d seen Magnum get treated by the ME before, if he was really in a pinch.

Rick crouched down in front of him, hissing slightly when he saw the bruising on the side of Thomas’s face. “You keep this up, and I’m going to be the pretty one,” Rick joked lightly, gently brushing a wayward strand of hair out of Thomas’s face. The bruising was bad. Dark purple already, swollen up to his temple and down beyond where his face was hidden behind his hands. Rick was honestly surprised his eye hadn’t swelled shut, but there was a good chance it still would. “You get checked out by anyone?”

Thomas didn’t move. His dark eyes flicked over to the far side of the crime scene where Katsumoto and Higgins were still talking but didn’t give a word of explanation.

Rick frowned. Magnum wasn’t the type to employ the silent treatment. Not unless he was really injured. But despite the rapidly darkening purple blossoming across the side of his face, Rick couldn’t tell what the hell was going on. No other scrapes or bruises or gunshot wounds or stabbings – he didn’t even have bruised knuckles from a fight.

“Thomas,” he prompted quietly. “What’s going on?”

Magnum hunched forwards slightly, rolling his shoulders defensively.

Rick wasn’t about to accept radio silence after being told to come and get his friend. He sat down on the grass opposite Thomas, close enough his knees were almost touching Magnum’s, and raised his right hand. “If you can’t talk, use this,” he said, moving his hand in unison to the words.

It wasn’t ASL, not really. It was a highly bastardized version that Rick and Magnum created in Afghanistan. Rick wasn’t even sure if Thomas would remember those last few months well enough to remember their own private language, but at the time, it was the only way Rick could get him to communicate at all. After the…incident…with the gun, and Thomas took a knife to the side that needed cauterizing to stop bleeding, he’d gotten sick. Really sick. And for the first time landing behind bars, unnervingly passive. He stopped talking. He stopped engaging. They couldn’t tell if he was even aware of them, until Rick finally figured out a way for him to communicate if talking was too much. Hand gestures were easier for him to follow, and it let them ‘talk’ with no one else listening in.

It’d saved his life, and Rick’s, more than once since then.

Magnum watched his hands for a moment, expressive dark eyes following the movement before he cautiously moved his left hand away from his face. He stuck his index finger out, twisting his hand sideways towards himself.

“Hurts? What hurts? I mean, besides your face, because that hurts just looking at it.”

Moving carefully, and still with only one hand, Thomas pinched all of his fingers together, tapping at the top of his jaw before drawing it down to his chin, which was still covered by his hand.

“Your jaw?” Rick echoed.

Thomas didn’t even nod, keeping his face as still as possible. He didn’t have to say anything, though. The look of abject misery was enough.

“If I pull you up, is that going to make you sick?”

Thomas carefully spelled out ‘no’ with his free hand. Then stopped, drawing a question mark in the air.

Rick shook his head. “Real convincing, buddy. Real convincing. On the count of three, I’m gonna get you up, okay?” He gripped Magnum’s forearm. “Thumbs up for ‘yes’.”

Magnum had Rick’s elbow in a death grip, which made Rick frown because what the hell, Thomas actually thought he was going to need Rick to stand which made him think it was a concussion, but that didn’t explain why when asked what hurt, Thomas said it was his mouth, not his head. Magnum briefly extended his thumb up to indicate ‘go’, and in one fluid movement, Rick pulled him to his feet.

Thomas stumbled slightly, his fingers tightening impossibly around Rick’s elbow as his other hand reflexively pushed harder against his mouth with a muffled yelp.

Rick froze. Didn’t dare move as Thomas’s fingers started to shake, and he caught a suspicious brightness to his dark eyes before Thomas managed to duck his head away like he wanted to be sick but didn’t dare.

This was more than just bruising.

“Thomas,” Rick asked quietly. “How bad?”

Thomas’s fingers drummed against Rick’s arm, from pinkie to index finger. Four. Their scale only went to five.

What. The. Hell.

“Should I be calling an actual ambulance?”

Thomas spelled out a quick n-o.

So - painful, but not life threatening. Or, he didn’t want to be left alone to be poked and prodded by strangers, because contrary to popular media, ambulance personnel really didn’t want passengers that weren’t patients riding in the back with them, unless situations were dire. And Thomas was up, mobile, not bleeding out…just…quiet.

“Here. Sit for a second.” Rick slowly maneuvered his friend to sit on the hood of the car. “I would like to not have to feel like this needs to be said, but it’s you. So, don’t move. I’ll be back in a second. I’m going to go let Katsumoto and Higgy know I’m taking you so they don’t think you’ve wandered off.”

Thomas didn’t move his other hand, just gave a thumbs up, though he didn’t look particularly happy about it. Whether from being told to ‘sit and stay’ or that Rick was basically going to tell the other adults that Thomas had to leave, Rick wasn’t entirely sure. He thought Thomas, Katsumoto and Higgins were on slightly better terms as of late, but…

It’s not like Thomas would’ve said anything to the contrary. Go along to get along should be tattooed across his forehead.

“How about I just tell one of the unis?” Rick suggested. Katsumoto’s people were pretty good about relaying messages, and Rick already knew half of them.

Thomas’s dark eyes flitted towards one of the closest uniformed officers, and after a pregnant pause, shrugged one shoulder.

Translation: fine - but he wasn’t happy about it.

Yeesh. Whatever the story was, it was a corker, and Rick fought the urge to ask what happened. At least, he could wait until after the trip to the ER. He ventured a guess to Thomas’s reluctance to tell anyone, and suggested, “How about I just say I’m giving you a lift? Maybe leave the whole hospital thing out of it?”

The relief in those expressive eyes was almost tangible, and he held his free hand up in a clenched fist, bobbing it back and forth as if knocking on a door. Yes.

So he just didn’t want anyone to know where he was going...which meant he didn’t want anyone to know he was hurt. Memories of the cave flashed unbidden and unwanted through his mind’s eye with enough force Rick fought the automatic flinch.

Thomas’s hand tightened reassuringly on his forearm, drumming a quick beat of five with his fingertips, and Rick snorted.

“It’s not a 5 problem. Gimme a minute, I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”

A quick thumbs up and he went to the nearest LEO, raising his chin slightly in a half nod of greeting as they caught sight of him approaching.

“Hey, just in case Katsumoto comes looking for him, I’m taking Thomas home, okay?”

The officer grimaced in sympathy as he nodded. “I wouldn’t want to hang around after that, either. Tell him to ice it - 10 minutes on, 10 minutes off for the swelling. And aspirin. It should help the pain.”

“So you saw what happened?”

The man winced. “Yeah. The suspect got away from the guys holding onto him and before they could grab him, he caught Magnum in the face with an edger - or maybe it was a shovel?” The man folded his arms across his chest as he considered it. “Naw, it was a shovel. I remember thinking it sounded like he’d literally rung Magnum’s bell with it. I was really surprised he didn’t go down for it.”

Thomas took a shovel to the face...and no one thought to call for EMT’s to at least come check him out? They hadn’t even called him - Thomas had to. And from what the guy just said, more than one person witnessed it and did nothing more than let Thomas wander off on his own.

“Did Noelani take a look at him?” he asked nonchalantly.

The officer shook his head. “I honestly didn’t even know where he went off to, and there’s no DB’s, so she’s not here. Higgins tried to take a look at him, but he just slapped her hand away and walked off.”

Rick paused, considering. “Wait, what exactly was she trying to do?”

The LEO half shrugged. “I think she was trying to move his hand. Nothing major. But, he, uh, didn’t seem too appreciative of her efforts, so she told him to go sit out.”

Red started to edge in on the corner of Rick’s vision. “What’s the protocol when someone is injured at a crime scene or criminal apprehension?”

“Call the emergency services,” the man said without hesitation. “But –”

Rick held up a hand. “No, that answers my question. Next time the HPD needs intel on the crime syndicates in Honolulu, I’m going to tell you to get bent. Should the question come as to why I am going to just hang up on you every time you call, you can tell your supervisor it’s all on him.”

The LEO looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t entirely sure what – maybe he just didn’t want to have to be the one to tell Katsumoto that his days of helping out the Organized Crime Unit were over, but Rick found it hard to care.

Not unlike a certain two someones who were supposed to be if not friends, at least not assholes to his best friend.

He left without further explanation, flexing his fingers from their tightly clenched fists at his side, ignoring the fact he’d pressed crescent shaped marks into each palm. He didn’t hit anyone, and he didn’t yell, so he was going to mark this as a progress win when TC asked him about it later.

Thomas was already sitting in the Porsche, slouched down impossibly low so he could rest his head against the back of the seat without tilting his head. He only opened his eyes when the entire car shook with the force that Rick slammed the door with.

Thomas raised an eyebrow, and held up one hand, four fingers splayed out and his thumb towards his chin and wiggled his fingers back and forth. Wanna talk about it?

“No. And for future reference, your new friends suck.”

Magnum frowned at that, but he took one quick glance at Rick’s face and his entire expression softened. He tapped Rick’s shoulder and held his index finger up. His hand still pressed against his mouth hiding most of his lower face, but Rick could still tell the man was smiling.

Well…as best he could.

Ever the diffuser, Thomas Magnum.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re my favorite too.” He put the Porsche in gear. “Remember this next time I need help with inventory.”

(*(

Thomas was not a good patient. He wasn’t even an okay patient. He was a nightmare.

Most of the time.

Right now, he was so passive, Rick had to keep fighting the urge to check his pulse or his forehead with the back of his hand, because the last time Thomas was this quiet, he had malaria.

Because he was upright and moving and cognizant, he wasn’t prioritized in the ER, which meant they got to hurry up and wait their turn. The initial nurse, a harried looking man who was profoundly apologetic for not being able to take Thomas back immediately, at least managed to get Thomas to move his fingers away from his cheek so he could see the extent of bruising.

“You probably already know this, but yeah, that’s broken. You’re gonna need x-rays to see how bad and whether or not you need surgery to fix it. Are you having trouble breathing? Do you feel the urge to throw up?”

Thomas signed the n-o again, and before Rick could interpret, the nurse breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. If that changes, get one of the staff immediately. Unfortunately, it also means you’re gonna have to wait to see the doc. Can you move your hand?”

Again with the n-o.

“Because it hurts, or because you’re holding it in place?”

Magnum held up two fingers.

“Second option,” Rick clarified, even as he winced in sympathy for his friend.

“Can you move your fingers without moving your palm?”

Cautiously, Magnum bowed his fingers back except for his thumb, which was braced against the worst part of the bruising.

“Well, I can’t the inside of your mouth from the outside, so that’s a good sign. I can’t confirm without the x-ray, but do you feel like your teeth are lining up? Don’t move your mouth to find out, just best guess.”

Magnum rolled one shoulder. He didn’t know.

“All right. Sit tight, Mr. Magnum. Someone will be with you as soon as they can. Can you fill out your medical forms?”

Rick held up his clipboard, ninety percent of it already filled out – previous injuries taking up a back page in addition to the check list on the front. “Already on it.”

The nurse heaved a sigh of relief. “I wish everyone was that well-prepared. If he starts to having breathing problems, or something gets drastically worse – swelling starts to spread, blood starts coming from places it shouldn’t, he throws up, anything else that screams ‘emergency we’re gonna die’, get the desk nurse immediately.”

With that, he was darting off again to the next patient on his list, and Rick and Thomas got to settle into a comfortable – albeit worrisome, as far as Rick was concerned – silence.

Sort of silent.

Rick kept up an endless running monologue of whatever he could think of. Mostly narrating what he thought was going on with anyone who came through the doors. One older pair of gentlemen with one pressing a blood soaked rag to his head while the other apologized – ‘moving troubles’ was their backstory; another was a dad and two teenage girls, one with a clearly broken arm and the other with two didn’t need a backstory. The dad was complaining loudly enough about ‘why would you think the rock would move out of your way?!’ that they didn’t need explanation.

They’d only been waiting for about half an hour when two people entered that needed no introduction.

Katsumoto and Higgins.

And they looked less than pleased.

It wasn’t until Magnum tensed beside him in the waiting room chair that it occurred to him that they weren’t upset over Thomas being in the ER, and with one quick look at Thomas’s face, he knew Thomas didn’t think they were there for support, either.

He stood, carefully putting himself between him and Thomas, who remained sitting, pressing himself back into the chair like he wanted to just sink right through it.

“Hey, guys,” he said lightly. “How’s it going?”

“I can’t believe you left me stranded there!” Higgins erupted without preamble. “Not even a word of where you’d gone, just…up an vanished without so much as a by your leave!”

Rick had always been…wary…of positional authority. In the Marines, he learned real quick that the only way a higher up cared about what happened to you is if you had some solid blackmail material. Greene’s kid in Kabul was only one in a long list of shady deals he made to stay out from under the thumb of another officer. When suicide rates skyrocketed to numbers not seen since WWII, their idea of fixing the problem was to just stop reporting it. Enlisted men with brain damage were authorized as fit for full and sent right back onto the range to die from enemy fire so the Marines wouldn’t have to report it a failure to disclose. One medical officer even put a knife in front of a suicidal man and told him to prove he was really suicidal, and when the man failed to take the knife on the spot, they armed him up again, sent him back out and…the Marine killed not only himself, but three others in his unit. The officers were bad, make no mistake. If Thomas and TC hadn’t come along, his service probably would’ve ended with him in Leavenworth for fragging an officer. But it was the other enlisted personnel that set his teeth on edge. The ones that were the same rank but put into positions of authority that thought it gave them the right to dictate everything their fellow Marines did, and write up demerits and disciplinary review boards for simple things like not making it to the line fast enough, for missing buttons because they’d been through hell the day before, or blood still caked their uniforms from fallen comrades and they hadn’t had a chance to replace them because the uniform issue had been out for six weeks, or that their pant legs weren’t properly tucked into blousing straps like the American military version of the SS or the Taliban’s informers.

Higgins reminded him of those guys. No rank to speak of, but quick to complain about everything that mildly inconvenienced her. And it never really sat right with him that she harped on Thomas for everything when she lived in the main mansion rent free, same as Thomas, just because she personally didn’t approve of his lifestyle. It’s not like Robin and Thomas were strangers and the man didn’t know full well what type of person Thomas was when he offered the guest house to him with free run of the place and all it entailed.

“Take a breath, Higgy,” he said, forcing the same levity into his tone. “Wanna run that by me again? This time, perhaps taking into full account of where you’re standing?”

Because he totally took Magnum to the ER for funsies on a Wednesday afternoon.

The implication seemed lost on her, because she didn’t so much as bat an eye.

“You left, without telling us, and you took the keys to the Ferrari with you! A three hundred and fifty thousand dollar car being left in a Home Depot parking lot because you couldn’t be bothered to wait –”

“The better question is why I had to take him in the first place,” Rick snapped, patience gone. “The officer we did tell said not only were you standing right next to him, but other then tell him to go sit in the corner, you pretty much did nothing. Thomas was the one who had to text me to come get him.”

Higgins huffed, crossing her arms defensively over her chest as she rocked back on one heel. “It was bruising. He had worse when he was hit by the car.”

“So you’re a medical professional, huh?” Rick asked. “You can make a diagnosis on the fly like that?”

“I’ve seen my fair share of serious injuries,” she said icily. The implication that this wasn’t one of them had Rick crossing his arms to prevent him from doing something more…emphatic.

“Cool story. You wanna tell the actual ER nurse he’s wrong then?” Rick suggested, pointing to the same nurse who was taking a look a boy’s face that was scraped to hell and back from road rash. “He’s right over there. The one wearing the actual scrubs. Working in an actual hospital. With actual training. ‘Cause he took one look at Thomas and said it was broken but needed x-rays to determine how badly. But I guess he’s an idiot too, huh? Because the mighty Juliet Higgins, ex-patriated and disavowed MI-6 agent, is never in the wrong, took a half-assed look at Thomas in the garden center and decided he was fine. That’s why you’re in exile as a goddamn housekeeper. Because you make no mistakes.”

It had nothing to do with the actual argument. But Rick didn’t much give two shits at this point. He never made it past an E-5 in the Marines because he was never willing to let stupid stand, regardless who the person dishing it out was. Private to four-star General, it didn’t matter. It irked him how Higgins’s behavior was closer to jealousy than anything else – of what, damned if he knew. That people actually liked Thomas? That she wasn’t the only stray Robin let stay at the Nest?

Katsumoto on the other hand, looked impassive as always, which Rick sort of marveled at. How that man remained as stoic as a statue, he would love to know. He could use it to make a killing at the poker tables.

“The officer you spoke with failed to mention the severity of Magnum’s injury,” the detective said. “And while it didn’t occur to me to call someone – you, or an ambulance – it should’ve, and I am sorry about that. But Magnum also left a crime scene where he was assaulted, and I need to know if he wants to press charges against the suspect, especially if it’s as serious as you think it is.”

A hand at his elbow stopped Rick from giving a kneejerk response as he turned to look at Thomas, who was signing rapidly.

“No, no, no – I’m not repeating that.”

Thomas spelled it out more emphatically, before digging his hand into his pocket, fishing out the Ferrari keys and holding them out to Higgins.

“That doesn’t look like any sign language I know,” Higgins muttered, snatching the keys as if she thought Thomas was going to pull a ‘psych!’ moment and pull them away. “Let me guess – he’s sorry and will never do it again?”

Rick’s head whipped back towards her so fast he was surprised he didn’t get whip lash, but before he could say anything, Thomas’s hand gripped his elbow. The younger man was looking faintly green and for a moment, Rick thought he’d gotten his attention because he was about to be sick.

Instead, Thomas made another gesture, a thumb drawn down from his chin followed by a half sign of his thumb and index finger pressed together, like the sign for ‘ok’, except the bouncing motion that was typically off his other hand. Not worth it.

“Jesus Christ, Thomas, no, this is bullshit, and I’m not – ”

Thomas glared at him, his dark eyes saying more than any gesture, but he repeated the signs, this time more emphatically. Not worth it.

Rick huffed, but said nothing, plastering a fake smile on his face. “Is that it?”

“I take it you can’t give a statement until you see the doctor?” Katsumoto guessed. The detective at least at the decency to look mildly sympathetic now that he could see the severe bruising darkening the entire side of Thomas’s face.

Thomas spelled out a quick n-o, which Rick easily translated.

“Do you intend to press charges?”

Another no, which Rick fought the urge to argue with, even though it was unsurprising. Thomas didn’t even hold a grudge against Hannah, now that she was dead. Of course he wouldn’t hold it against a stranger with a shovel. Rick, on the other hand, was far less magnanimous, hoped the guy was going down for something heinous and was looking down a sentence of 10 to 15 years in prison.

“In that case, I’ll take Higgins back so she can pick up the car. If you change your mind…” Katsumoto eyed the bruising. “Send a text. Oh, and if it is broken? Take some advice from personal experience -invest in a blender and some straws. And lots of aspirin.”

“Well, if his jaw is broken, I suppose at least I can look forward to some peace and quiet at the Nest,” Higgins said loftily, one elegant eyebrow raising slightly.

That was it. It wasn’t perhaps the nicest thing for her to say, but that seemed part and parcel for Higgins and anything to do with Thomas – but it hit a little too close to still raw nerves, of memories of guards laughing at the peace and quiet they finally had when Thomas stopped talking – and something snapped.

“You’re the worst kind of human being, you know that?” Rick snarled. “Thomas doesn’t even bat an eye when you ask him for favors. He doesn’t complain about you having a stick shoved up your ass about how he lives in a completely different house than you. You can bitch about him asking favors all you want, but you’re a grown ass adult, and you can say no if it really bothers you all that much, but for the love of God, just stop complaining about everything he does or doesn’t do. Or maybe next time you get shot and fall in the ocean miles from shore, Thomas can stay on the damn boat and enjoy some peace and quiet of his own.”

The Brit bristled, and for a moment, Rick saw a brief flash of something that might’ve been guilt, but faster than it appeared, it was gone again, replaced by the all too familiar sense of pride and superiority.

“My job is to look after Mr. Masters’ estate, and that includes and is not limited to the main house, the guest house, the property or the cars. If Magnum wants to play it fast and loose with a three hundred and fifty thousand dollar vehicle, that’s his business, but making sure it is returned – unscathed and unharmed is my business, which is very difficult to do when he takes off without warning with the keys in his pocket.”

“The car? The car?! Do you know why Robin puts goddamn numbers on those fucking license plates? Because he has so. Many. Goddamn. Cars. But there’s only one Thomas. One. And you care more about the goddamn car—about fucking metal and gears and fiberglass and rubber—than about my friend. About a human being. The car. I hope the goddamn car is in fucking pieces by the time you get back. But even if it was Robin would just get another one. Can’t exactly do that with Thomas, now, can you?”*

Higgins threw up her hands in exasperation. “Even if it is broken, it’s not that serious an injury! Why either you or he couldn’t find the time –”

Thomas stopped her without saying a word. He just moved his hand.

And his entire jaw simply…slid to one side, dropping down almost an inch, his cheek hollowing out as the bone shifted out of place, blood bubbling up past his lips which were already stained crimson, like the palm of his hand that’d been holding it in place. He must’ve sliced the inside of his cheek on his teeth, blood pooling in his mouth the entire time and Rick felt slightly ill wondering if Magnum had swallowed it or was just letting it slowly seep out against his hand.

Higgins turned green.

Katsumoto, unemotional as ever, deadpanned – “Yeah, that looks dislocated and broken. Sure you don’t want to press charges?”

Rick should’ve kept quiet, but that was never a strong suit of his when his friends were hurt – especially not Thomas. “Yeah, Higgy. I guess you’re right. Hardly worth the trip to the hospital, right?”

There was a squawk of indignation from behind them, and the male nurse reappeared before the argument could continue. “What happened? Was it always like this and you just didn’t know, or is this worse? Come with me – you’ve been upgraded to now status.” He glanced quickly at Rick. “Family?”

“That’s me,” Rick said, without a hint of guile.

“I was hoping you’d say that – let’s go. You –” he pointed at Magnum. “Hold your hand under your mouth to catch the blood. Biohazard and all that…” Anything else he said to Thomas was lost as he escorted the private investigator back towards what was presumably x-ray and exam.

Rick shot the majordomo a scathing look before following after. “Staring is rude. Don’t you have a three hundred and fifty thousand dollar car to worry about?”

If the parting remark had any effect on her, he didn’t stick around to find out. Thomas was already trying to look back over his shoulder, wondering where he was, and he couldn’t care less about the two people in the ER lobby right now.

#magnum pi 2018 #magnum PI #magnum pi reboot #thomas magnum #rick wright #bad things happen bingo #prompt fill #though technically it was for a different fandom and I changed it #I'll get to the other one eventually #I am not a fan of Juliet Higgins #and it shows

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elizabethemerald · 5 years

Text

Jim is Honest AU: Lie 3

Jim Lake Jr lies again and again to his loved ones. What if instead, he told the truth? How would that affect his relationships, and story of Trollhunters? Let’s look at all the major lies and omissions Jim made and let’s turn them on their head. This time Let’s say Jim is Honest.

Jim returns late from his first day of Trollhunting to find his mom home, and Mr. Strickler making a house call! After he leaves Jim realizes, he has to tell his mom. But what if she forbids him from protecting the trolls?

Barbara had to admit the omelette was pretty good. Maybe she was finally learning how to handle herself in the kitchen after all! Or more likely the boy currently nervously fiddling with his plate had helped. She wasn’t as oblivious as he sometimes liked to think she was. She had noticed her son surreptitiously dicing some of the onions and adding seasonings. Oh well, at least they had eaten dinner together for the first time in a few days. Now what was it that Jim was so nervous about?

Strickler had left less than an hour ago. Was Jim nervous about having his teacher here at his house? Or was it all the responsibilities he was taking on. Romeo and Juliet? Chess? She had no idea he was interested in so many things. Now he seemed torn up. Several times he took a breath like he wanted to say something, but each time he closed it again. Finally he got up, gathered the dishes and rinsed them off. From her spot at the dining room table she heard him click on the coffee maker.

“Jim? You’re not thinking of having coffee this late on a school night are you?” He was quiet in the kitchen for a moment.

“I think this might be a coffee kind of conversation.” He said. His voice was tight with his anxiety. Barbara did her best to still her shaking hands. Truly she hated coffee. She had always joked with Jim that she would only drink it in an emergency. She only had to coffee maker at all to be polite for any guests. She struggled to wait patiently while her son made the coffee. When he brought out the cup he had even drawn a small tree with the cream. He had a much smaller cup for himself.

“What did you need to talk about kiddo?” Barbara asked. Jim nervously turned his cup this way and that.

“So, I just found out trolls exist?” He finally said. Barbara looked at him in confusion.

“Like internet trolls? Is someone bullying you on one of those sites you and Toby are always on? Is it that Steve boy? I have half a mind to call his mother.”

He put his head in his hands. “Not like internet trolls! Like real trolls. Magical trolls!”

“Jim what are you saying? You’re not making any sense.”

Barbara could tell he was desperately trying to find some way to explain. She felt she was seconds away from calling one of her friends from the hospital who was a child psychologist. Jim suddenly snapped his fingers and stood up.

"What if I just show you!" He walked over to his bag, which was still slung on the rail for the stairs. He also shut the curtains in the living room. He stood before her and held out a small metal object. It looked like a children's toy of some kind. Jim turned it to face him and it started glowing.

"For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command!"

Small blue lights flew out of the object. And Jim was lifted off his feet. Pieces of armor appeared out of the air and clanked into place. After the last piece appeared Jim landed back on the ground and a massive sword materialized in his hand.

Barbara could only stare open mouthed at her son. He looked..like a hero. It took a long moment for her to get her brain and mouth moving again. "What? Why?"

"I guess, I am the Trollhunter! The amulet called to me. There is a whole city of magical trolls under our feet! And I'm tasked with protecting them!"

"Jim! You can't be some kind of Troll fighter! You're still in high school! You should be worried about your grades and girls, not Trolls!"

She stood up and held his shoulders. This couldn't be right. He was just a child! Why would a child be chosen to do this?

"Its Trollhunter mom. And I feel like maybe I can really do some good here! Also I can't give it up, the amulet is bonded to me."

"But what about your other responsibilities? The play? The chess club?"

Jim tapped an armored finger against his lips, then pointed it at her. "The play is a problem. To be fair I kind of auditioned on accident and I didnt expect to actually get the part."

Barbara clasped her hands in front of her face and she struggled not to scream out her frustration. While Jim accidentally auditioning was way more like him than doing it on purpose it just demonstrated the kind of disaster child she was raising.

"As for the chess club, that's a code Mr. Strickler made up, so we could talk about trolls. I'm not actually doing anything with chess."

"Oh. So what you're saying is you told your teacher before you told your mother."

Jim at least had the decency to look ashamed. "I'm sorry, I was just really freaked out and needed someone to talk to. Toby was at the dentist and you were at work. And Mr. Strickler had just said the other day that I could come to him for anything."

Barbara sighed and hugged him close. It wasn't his fault her work schedule was all over the place. As she held him the amulet made a soft ringing sound and his armor disappeared. Jim caught the amulet as they pulled apart.

"Huh. I guess I'm relaxed now." He said with a half smile. Something was suddenly bothering Barbara. Like a tingle in her mind, something about this story was off.

"So you told Mr. Strickler about your troll fighting and he told you to use a code when speaking about it. Why?"

"He said other people might think I'm lying. He said people could try and take me away or hurt me because of it."

The tingle in her mind was now alarm bells. "Your teacher knew you would be risking your life, and you are risking your life, right?" His eyes slid sideways before he nodded. "And he didn't tell me, your mother? We had a long conversation before you arrived, he had every opportunity to do so."

Jim shrugged. Barbara sat down at the table and gestured for her son to do the same. She continued speaking. "I've raised you, by myself for the past ten years. I would never hurt you. Why wouldn't he tell me?"

"I don't know mom. I just know that I can finally help people. Just like you do."

At that Barbara slid out of her chair so she was kneeling in front of Jim in his. "Ok. You're the…"

"Trollhunter." He supplied when she paused.

"You're the Trollhunter now. A couple of rules though. One: be safe. I don't want to lose you. Two: I want to know about everything that happens. When it happens. I don't want to find out two days later ok? This stuff is important enough to interrupt my work at the hospital. And Three: if you ever need help, call for me, and I'll be there. With whatever you need."

"Thanks mom!" Jim slid out of his seat as well and hugged his mom again, both kneeling on the floor.

Eventually Jim went to bed. Even the small amount of caffeine hyped him up for a while. He excitedly told her about finding the amulet, meeting his two troll trainers, auditioning for the play, even his wild run through the city away from the evil troll Bular. His stories didn't fill her with confidence, but he had survived everything so far, mostly unscathed.

After he went up to bed Barbara finally drank her own coffee. She hadn't had any earlier and now it was lukewarm, even more unpalatable. She pulled out her laptop and started searching.

Barbara's experience with Jim's father as horrible as it was it gave her an awareness some of her fellow doctors lacked. When a woman couldn't stand to have a Male nurse or doctor touch her. Or when she could see a bruise when she rolled up a woman's sleeve to apply the blood pressure cuff. Or when a child flinched from even a gentle touch.

She had learned exactly what to say to get a husband or boyfriend out of the room. She knew how much detail to discuss a woman's period before the men would either leave or stop paying attention. She knew how to hide a phone number for a crisis line in the margins of a pamphlet on how to properly insert a tampon.

The same alarms that drove her to protect the girls who came into her clinic were now going wild for her son. Why would Walter hide the fact that her son was in danger from her? How could a history teacher benefit from keeping a magical world of trolls a secret? Who was Walter Strickler?

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #barbara lake #jim is honest au #writing emerald

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puppyluver256 · 5 years

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Underworld Ultimatum: The Quest for the Hottest Hades

So I mentioned in a previous big text post that I have some Very Strong Opinions on the interpretation of Greek god Hades shown in Disney’s Hercules film, and now I’m gonna talk about those opinions dammit! But let’s make it a little interesting. I always believe that if you can’t say something nice you shouldn’t say anything at all, so I’m also going to use this as an opportunity to talk about a Hades that I do enjoy. It’s a competition, babey! The Underworld Ultimatum! Or, if you’re preferring to reference a property one of these guys is in, the Hades Cup! (though to be fair this is less of a true competition and more of me showing why I like one and not the other)

First off, it’s the guy who inspired this, give it up foooor...

Disney’s Hades!

First of all, the guy’s design might’ve seemed cool back in the day, but looking back on him he’s kinda bland. Grey toga with accents of other greys, blue deathly pallor, nasty teeth... The flame hair is a pretty good concept, but considering the ancient Greek idea of the underworld probably wasn’t fire-themed I don’t know if it was an appropriate choice. ❌

Speaking of that flame hair, he commits the crime of “blue fire is totally cooler than red fire you guys what is physics?” nonsense. Anyone who puts even the tiniest bit of research in knows that, disregarding chemical compounds that affect flame color, blue flames are hotter than red/orange/yellow flames. Yeah, from an artistic perspective it seems counterintuitive, and blue flames work better with his standard palette, but even with that in consideration they couldn’t’ve made it so his flames turned white when he got angry rather than orange? Lazy... ❌

This is a problem with the Hercules film overall, but this feels like a christianized take on the ancient Grecian pantheon, with a much less horny Zeus in the place of the christian god and Hercules as sort of a Jesus figure. In line with this, Hades is portrayed as an equivalent to Satan and thus is shown to be undeniably evil. This is inaccurate to the actual mythology of Hades, where (and someone with a better scope of Greek mythology can either back me up or refute me on this) he was just a dude who ran the underworld and had no real malicious intent. But of course, a character is themed around death, they have to be a completely irredeemable villain. ❌

AND continuing the villain thing! He ugly, at least according to western society standards and especially compared to the hero and leading lady who are conventionally attractive by those same standards. This is continuing a long Disney tradition that a villain should be ugly. He’s evil, thus he doesn’t get to visit the dentist. ❌

His goals are basically just the same as every other villain, take over the world with some big strong brutes that are locked away by a supposedly benevolent horndog. Well, specifically Olympus, but considering that’s where the gods live and his brief rule subjugates the GODS, if he’d been in the head for longer he’d basically rule the world. Boring, bland, think of something else for once. Or at least have a good reason other than “I’m the villain, world domination for me!” ❌

There’s no real satisfying tension between him as a villain and the hero! His initial direct action against Hercules happens when he’s an infant (speaking of, dude actively tries to kill an infant), and then the next direct interaction between them is like nearly 20 years later and Herc has no knowledge of who this guy is and how big of a threat he’s been this whole time. Call me crazy, but I feel a villain is more effective when the protag is aware of the threat they pose for longer than just “oh he showed up today and apparently he’s been trying to kill me since I was a baby and now he’s got my girl??? guess he’s a bad guy” ❌

Following this point, there’s no satisfying confrontation between Hades and Herc that works to finish off the conflict between them. The major battle that Herc has against him is mainly against the titans, and iirc the only thing that he does to him in the “grabbing Meg’s soul from the soul pool brb” section is punch him in the face. I don’t remember any direct action that Herc does to cause Hades to fall into his soul pool. ❌

He’s voiced by James Woods, who is a major jerk. I’m not going into detail here as this is already long-winded enough, and Google is free. ❌

He’s got Cerberus, as any good interpretation of Hades should. That’s a plus! ✅ Though this Cerberus seems to be based on the “generic mean dog breed” aesthetic, and also I hated fighting this guy in Kingdom Hearts (the original, not the final mix with updated controls, OOF), which leads me toooo...

The guy THEN proceeds to smear his presence all over nearly every Kingdom Hearts game! Like, you’re not needed! Get out! Leave some room for better Disney villains!!! ❌

So nine bads, one good, and that “good” only comes from me liking dogs.

Next up, we have a more recent contender to the Hades mythos in modern media. Showing up outta nowhere in the first entry into a classic series for 21 years, let’s bring our hands together fooooor...

Kid Icarus Uprising’s Hades!

First off...look at this man. Look at this man! Hell yeah that is my aesthetic! Look at all the chaotic colors, the wild anime-esque hair, aaaaa! Amazing design! I would ask someone to get me the name of Uprising’s character designer so I can shake their hand and tell ‘em they did a wonderful job on the Hades look, but they’re probably Japanese and I don’t know a lick of it. Maybe someone at NoA could pass on my compliments... ✅

He does have a flame head form at some point with blue flames, but it doesn’t become red to show his anger so there’s no more of a violation of physics then the rest of his insides are. ✅ And that’s the real problem I have with Disney’s Hades for this particular point, if you’re going to violate physics at least have some damn fun with it instead of just thinking that cooler fire is hotter just because it’s made of warmer colors.

While this Hades is also irredeemably evil, there’s no weird christ-washing of Greek mythology going on here, because the Japanese generally don’t do that sort of thing when throwing a bunch of other culture’s mythologies together. Sure, Kid Icarus includes a lot of Greek mythology elements (Medusa, Thanatos, Pandora, arguably Palutena being based on Athena, among others), but it also incorporates a lot of original elements, such as the Forces of Nature who are not based on any specific Greek gods, the Chaos Kin, the Aurum, freaking space pirates?! And in regards to the Aurum, this Hades is able to put differences aside in order to help the other factions around at the time defeat the Aurum so there’s that! ...though he’s not exactly the best team player, hehehe... ✅

While he does show up out of nowhere after the defeat of the initially perceived villain, Medusa, once he debuts Hades is a constant presence. He’s almost always poking his head into the dialogue to taunt Pit, make some quip or joke, flirt with a female character, give a dastardly threat. Everyone’s always aware of exactly what kind of threat he poses! Good villain writing! ✅

But yeah, speaking of that, he does do the whole “initial villain wasn’t the real villain SURPRISE BITCH” thing that I’m not that fond of. Call it lingering resentment from Twilight Princess where Zant was basically thrown away in favor of bringing Ganondorf back. ❌

This Hades also doesn’t seem to have a Cerberus. Twinbellows is a Thing, yes, but they never show up in the same instance in time. The real Twinbellows is dealt with in the first chapter of Uprising, and the fake version of Twinbellows that shows up in chapter 9 is dealt with LONG before Hades reveals himself. ❌

His goal is to use the souls of everyone and everything that’s died to increase the ranks of his army and in the process throw off the natural order of things, which honestly makes sense as a goal for a malevolent death god. It’s helped by the fact that there’s really no one “good” faction in this game, everyone has their own self interests and Palutena’s just the one that’s most kind to humanity and Pit, who is the protag we experience the game’s events through and thus passes on a little of his bias. ✅

Oh, you want satisfying hero/villain confrontation? The boss battle against him takes up a whole chapter and oooohhhh boy is it a good’un. Do yourself a favor and look up the battle on YouTube, or to avoid a lot of spoilers and gain a lot of context, do yourself an even bigger favor and look up Chuggaconroy’s whole Uprising playthrough. The man goes into detail about everything of this game, not just its characters and basic gameplay. ✅

He eats Pit at one point, and then that whole chapter takes place in his innards. Ew. Gross. ❌

He’s voiced by S. Scott Bollock in the English dub and Hōchū Ōtsuka in the Japanese original. I don’t know whether either of ‘em are jerks, but I doubt they’re as bad as James Woods soooooo... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Setting aside cameos like being a spirit in Smash Ultimate, this Hades has only had a significant appearance in a single piece of media. Even though it’s a tad bittersweet, he doesn’t overstay his welcome, unlike another Hades. ✅

That’s 7 goods, 3 bads, and a shrug. The winner is clear! KI Hades is the victor! Or at least it’s obvious that I prefer him over the Disney version. Rant over, thanks for sticking through my ramblin’ goofballery. It was fun at least, right? I had fun. :D

#disney #disney hercules #disney hades #kid icarus #ki hades #jess discusses character stuff #and how differently two different sets of people can interpret the same core concepts

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sabraeal · 5 years

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He Who Studies Evil [Part 2/4]

Part 1

A prequel to Wanting Is More Pleasurable Than Having (And Other Things Vulcans Don’t Know a Damned Thing About), written for @bubblesthemonsterartist

There are pleasantries to observe when the runabout docks. Haruka hardly expects them from a group of war-mongering mine managers, but when he steps through the airlock, ensigns flanking him to either side, he’s pleasantly surprised to find a greeting party.

“Welcome,” their leader says, the tallest among them, though none of the Cardassians are what he would consider small. Perhaps not as broad and muscled as he would expect, but then again, alien biology holds a cornucopia of oddities. One only underestimated a Vulcan once before believing in their superior muscle density. “You are invited to meet with Gul Dukat presently.”

Gul Dukat, the prefect of Bajor. A man much maligned by the planet’s population, as far as he can tell, though he doubts the Bajorans would welcome even the most benevolent overlord if he were Cardassian.

He is also the man brokering this peace. The representative Cardassia wished to pit him against.

Already they are trying to throw him off his guard, but no one makes captain without a degree in quick-thinking. “Thank you for the warm welcome. We are honored by the prefect’s invitation and will join him after we--”

“There’s no need,” the ranking Cardassian tells him. “Your effects will be brought to your quarters, and you will go to Gul Dukat. Follow me. You do not wish to keep him waiting.”

Haruka hesitates. The Federation wants this treaty, yes, but allowing himself to be summoned as a supplicant to this Gul Dukat would set himself at a disadvantage, would make this so-called prefect believe that he held all the power in this exchange. A dangerous place to be, when the only thing separating him from an unfortunate mining-related accident was two junior crewman.

“He means that,” Ensign Shidnote mutters, jostling his shoulder in a way that could be easily be an accident, two men in too-close quarters -- except for the way the boy is so careful not to look at him, to pitch his voice low. “Punctuality is a religion to these people.”

He stares, and not for the first time, wonders exactly how that ensign got that scar across his nose.

“Sir,” he adds belatedly, an afterthought.

“I thought the Union didn’t allow religion,” Haruka manages, still rooted to the spot.

“Well.” Shidnote shrugs, sauntering off the docking platform. “Had to replace it with something, I guess.”

It is said Cardassia used to be covered in old Hebetian vaults, a marvel of sweeping architecture, the cradle of humanoid life. But those ruins are all but gone now, instead replaced with the style enthusiastically purveyed by the Union -- tall, imposing buildings; architecture meant to intimidate rather than inspire. Unless, of course, one wished to inspire fear, in which case, the Cardassians had gotten that down to an art.

Terok Nor was a microcosm of that fear, of that oppressive sensation of being watched. Their escort led them across what he brusquely introduced as the promenade, an open area where it seemed brisk trade was conducted, and both the Bajoran workers and their Cardassian overlords could relax for a spell, though never in the same place. Even here, Haruka could not shake the feeling of a hundred eyes on his back, not until he followed the soaring spikes of the pylons upward, up to where the higher level loomed, every banister lined with armor-clad Cardassians.

“It’s a trick,” Shidnote tells him, voice pitched low, so no one but him and Sui can hear. “Meant to make you feel observed. They think it cuts down on the peons getting uppity.”

“And do they?” Haruka asks, trying not to show how much this display unnerves him. “Get uppity, I mean?”

“No.” His mouth curves, bemused. “At least not where the Cardassians can see.”

They meet in a board room, a level field compared to the experience on the promenade, but Gul Dukat is an intimidating presence nonetheless. All Cardassians were broad in the shoulders -- or at least wore armor to make it so -- but the spiny ridges down his neck make him seem even more forbidding than the rest, and the bone at his brow protrudes so starkly that his eyes seem deep-set, more skull than man.

What’s more, every move the man makes says he’s aware of it, that he enjoys the discomfort his presence brings to his guests. Even the other Cardassians are deferential, flinching when his gaze flits over him. This is how the prefect keeps control of this station, even with tension bursting at its seams; he relies on this overbearing mien to get his work done, to keep both the Bajorans and his people in line.

And thus when he smiles, teeth bared in the human way, Haruka knows he has found a formidable opponent.

“Ambassador!” The man sweeps his hand out over the table, laden heavily with food. Haruka has eaten any number of foreign cuisines, but these dishes -- they must all be from this sector from how little he recognizes them. “I hope we have made you feel welcome to Terok Nor! A home away from home, I think you say on Earth.”

“Just so.” The words come out stiffer than they ought; for all that the Cardassians needed this treaty, Haruka could not help but think, as he surveyed the steaming stews and flaky pies and whole roasts of meat he could not account for, that it would be all too easy for a human to eat poison and never even know it.

“Here, let us start with a toast.” The prefect pours a pale blue liquor into fluted glasses, smile still firmly in place. “To our most important duty. May we each serve the State as we ought.”

His own smile pulls tight, but Haruka drinks the wine down. It’s both smoother and sweeter than he expects.

“That’s not kanar,” Shidnote remarks, blinking at the glass. Haruka stares at him, eyes wide.

It’s unfortunate his attention was not the only one the ensign had caught.

“Correct. A fine vintage though, is it not?” Gul Dukat asks, turning the question back to him. Still, Haruka can feel that he captures only half the prefect’s interest, the other firmly on Shidnote. “Springwine, from Bajor. Made from kava juice. I must admit, I have quite a penchant for it.”

“Really.” He keeps his tone even, hand steady. From what they’d heard from Bajor, Gul Dukat is responsible for countless atrocities, but here he is, admitting a weakness for their wine. “I had not expected to hear a Cardassian praise Bajor.”

The man’s smile grows even wider, and Haruka trusts him even less. “The Union would not waste resources bringing Bajor into the modern age if there were nothing of value.”

Shidnote’s mouth pulls tight, but he stays silent. To his other side, Sui looks like he might faint from the very insinuation one might violate the Prime Directive.

“I had been of the impression that its value was to be found in the uridium ore mined from the planet’s surface,” Haruka ventures, keeping his tone conversational, light. He has no intention of provoking the prefect, but he wouldn’t suffer the whitewashing of the occupation right in front of him. “Not it’s culture.”

Dukat’s smile takes on more teeth, not in threat, but in delight. “Can it not be both?”

He makes to serve himself, and the ensigns follow their host’s invitation. Sui delicately arranges his plate with things that look vaguely familiar, while Shidnote digs in with aplomb, serving himself heaping portions of everything at the table. Ah, to be a young man again.

Haruka is more reserved in his appreciation of the spread, taking from the same plates Shidnote does at half the volume. Dukat watches them with unfeigned pleasure as they each take their first bites into Cardassian cuisine. Or at least, his and Sui’s; Shidnote has barely stopped to say more than, “It’s been forever since I’ve had Tuli!” before tipping a half dozen tiny fish onto his plate.

“Careful,” Dukat warns, as Shidnote reaches to take a spoonful of what looked to be souffle. “The station’s replicators make the hasperat especially spicy.”

The ensign’s face falls flat, blank. “You have Bajoran food too?”

“Of course,” he drawls, “I consider myself a connoisseur of the planet’s delicacies. Little...diamonds in the rough, as you humans say. There’s much to admire, if one dedicates themselves to discovery.”

Listening to this man speak sets Haruka’s teeth on edge as much as a dentist’s drill. “I wasn’t aware the Union allowed the admiration of those outside of it.”

Gul Dukat pauses, hands frozen in the act of cutting his pie. Kain would kill him for making such a bald remark, for veering far too close to the sun, but --

But one does not get things done with men like Gul Dukat by playing their game. He’s ceded too much ground, allowing himself to be summoned straight from the docking bay. It’s time to let the prefect know that the Federation will not just lie down in this negotiation.

Dukat blinks, lets out a laugh. “I had not thought a man from the Federation would be so versed in the statutes if the State.”

“I took up some light reading before coming here,” Haruka explains. “A friend recommended one of your classics. The Never Ending Sacrifice.”

“Ah, yes! An excellent example of Cardassia’s literature!” Again, his enthusiasm is unfeigned. “The repetitive epic is our highest form of art.”

The Hebetians must weep for what was lost, if that passed for high art. “It is quite...illuminating. I was surprised to see how highly the family as a unit is regarded among your people. I had always thought your duty was foremost to the State.”

It is an impertinent observation, and if he was at a Romulan table it would have ended in death for one of the men here, but Gul Dukat only continues to smile, unfazed.

“Ah, it is an older piece of work, though its themes have translated well into a more modern age. And besides, is not a strong family that is best for the State?” Dukat proposes, warming to the topic. Of course Haruto would be right in this -- the Cardassians did view a meal as a venue for philosophical debate. “Our children are our future, and our elders mark the path.”

Haruka nods, and his heart pounds in his chest as he decides his answer. “That had been my thought as well. However...”

Gul Dukat leans forward, intrigued. “However...?”

“I heard a rumor,” he confides, “and I’m afraid it made me doubt what I thought I understood.”

The prefect stiffens, smile wrapped tight around his face. “A rumor?”

“Oh, yes.” Sui is still beside him, eyes wide and mouth opened, but Shidnote is blank-faced, watching the exchange with little more than cursory interest. “I heard that you were keeping a prisoner aboard this station.”

“A prisoner? Here?” Gul Dukat laughs as if the very thought were preposterous. “I must admit, my constable is very good at apprehending men and putting them in the brig, but those are dissidents and drunks. Minor crimes, no more than a night in a cell.”

“I didn’t mean a member of this station,” Haruka presses, keeping his tone guileless, almost helpful. “Rumor put it as a Federation prisoner.”

“You cannot believe that,” the prefect says, hardly blinking. “I’m sure there are ships that have taken their adversaries, but Terok Nor is a refinery, not a place for the Union to keep political prisoners.”

Haruka lifts an eyebrow. “Even though it is so close to Bajor?”

“You did say Federation prisoners,” Dukat manages though his clenched teeth, “did you not? As far as i know, there are no...Federation actors on the surface of Bajor. Though I believe we are allowed our...prisoners of war, as you say.”

Haruka lets the lie settle between them. Perhaps there was no official Federation presence on the planet, but hardly a news cycle went by without more reports of losses from those who went to aid the rebels.

“Our articles do allow such things, yes,” he allows, “but I was told this wasn’t an acting member but instead...a child.”

“A child.” Haruka has known sheer cliff faces less forbidding than the tone Gul Dukat takes now. “Preposterous. The Union would never do such a thing.”

“Of course not,” he agrees. “I am only relaying the rumor that has been circulating among the high-ups of the Federation. As a courtesy.”

“Yes. Thank you,” the prefect grits out. “It is most...gratifying to find out what sort of...pernicious propaganda has been spread about my people. You do not believe it, I hope?”

“How could I, if you deny it?” He offers Dukat a thin smile, one that says quite clearly that he has noticed how the Gul has done no such thing.

“Good.” The man must be agitated, to not see through him, even now. “After all, you know how much we revere children.”

“Oh yes,” Haruka agrees. “Cardassian children, at least.”

Haruka had thought he’d known bad mattresses -- after all, it wasn’t as if Federation-issue sleeping bags did much in the way of muting rocks at one’s back -- but it takes only a moment laying on his bed to realize that Cardassians had only mastered the art of torture because they first slept on bed like these.

“Computer.” The room buzzes with silence, and he remembers -- this isn’t the Wistal. There is no computer keyed to talk to him here.

He huffs, swinging his legs off the bed. There’s no other way to do this than the old-fashioned way, then.

His PADD comes easily to hand, and it’s easier still to call up Ensign Shidnote’s service record, far longer than a man his rank should have. He scrolls through all the beginning matter -- born to a freighter family, recruited on mission, other details that seem more and more bog standard now that there’s humans spread all over the alpha quadrant and beyond -- but his eyes catch on the first posting: USS Fortissia under Captain Lido, stationed under Admiral Bergatt and the USS Wilant. Admiral Bergatt, who has been fighting the good fight against the Cardassians for the past half decade.

The would explain a thing or two, save that he should have had no need to contact Bajor --

Something niggles just at the back of his mind. Lido, Lido. He had heard that name before, years ago, and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

It takes only a quick search, and there it is: Captain Amos Lido, with a dozen postings over his illustrious career, the last being the Fortissia at the Cardassian border. Well on his way to Admiral, it seemed, until the mutiny against Starfleet, and his flight into Bajoran space. He’d nearly made it a year working with the resistance, but he’d fallen in with the Kohn-Ma and gotten himself back on the Federation’s radar.

He, like many of his Kohn-Ma compatriots, chose death over capture. His crew had been given the option to return to the fold, so long as they had not worked with the separatist splinter cell. Zakura Shidnote had been one of them.

Haruka dropped to his bed with a groan. Here he was, meant to make peace with the Cardassian prefect, and he’d gone and brought a resistance fighter on board. Potentially even a terrorist.

He reaches for his PADD again, and calls up Shidnote’s file. He flicks past the neatly scrubbed service record, only stopping when he get to the end, when he gets to his assignment to the Wistal, and right there, clear as day, the name on his recommendation --

The tablet drops from his hands, and Haruka scrubs a hand over his face. He should have know, he should have known.

Special recommendation from the Federation, signed by Haruto Wisteria.

#akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #He Who Studies Evil #star trek AU #my fic #ans #this is where this starts becoming more of a star trek FUSION #because frankly we don't have enough of the older generation for me to make up cardassians #so DS9 fans will get A NICE SURPRISE heading forward #ENJOY

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ofmilesmorales · 5 years

Text

a box full of sharp objects

WHO: Miles Morales WHAT: After a routine mission with Jessica Drew to take down a Hydra base goes terribly wrong, Miles is left to suffer the consequences. WHERE: Underground Hydra bunker, precise location unknown. TRIGGER WARNINGS: kidnapping, torture, experimentation, mutilation, violence

It was hard to tell time in the windowless room but if he had to guess, Miles would have said he kept up the quips for close to three days. It was probably a generous estimation, probably far too optimistic to be true, but it wasn’t as if there was anyone around to disprove it. So, by his count, he spent the better part of three days doing what Jess would have done. He made bad jokes, muttered puns that only he laughed at, masked his fear with stupid, silly bullshit that he told himself made things a little easier.

It didn’t, of course. Not really. Strapped to a table, alone, and shit scared, it was hard to imagine anything being easy. Easy was something he’d left in the rear-view mirror the second Hydra nabbed him, something that was more a distant memory than anything else at this point. Easy was far, far away from where Miles was now, and he was pretty sure everyone else knew it, too.

But, in spite of that, he kept up the jokes for the better part of three days. He made small talk with the agent drawing vial after vial of blood, pretended not to feel woozy the fifth time they stuck the needle into his arm. Later, of course, he’d long for the moments when all they were doing was drawing blood. In comparison to the other things, the things they called litmus tests, having blood drawn was easy. It was a pinch and an ache, the kind of thing he could call a bloody nightmare with a shiteating grin while still feeling relatively safe. (At least, as safe as one could feel when strapped to a table in some Nazi’s basement.)

Naturally, the feeling of relative safety didn’t last. After the blood samples came the tissue samples, and those were more than a pinch and an ache. “There are more humane ways to do this,” said the doctor taking the sample. There was no follow up, no apology, and Miles knew she’d said it only to be sure that he knew he was suffering more than he needed to.

At that point, he still felt brave. At that point, he could still let his head loll over to the side to look at her with a stupid grin and the closest thing to a shrug he could muster while strapped to a table. “You should really include that in your Nobel speech,” he told her, raising a brow. “Those Peace Prize people would love that. You’d be a hit.”

(He tried to keep himself from making a pun when she reared back and backhanded him across the face, but the words, “Not that kind of hit,” stumbled out anyways and earned him a second backhand. Stubbornly, Miles told himself Jess would have said it was worth it. Logically, he knew Jess would insist that none of this was worth it. Miles was pretty content to ignore logic for the moment.)

Things only seemed to get worse from there. Miles hadn’t seen the woman responsible for bringing him here, the crazy one who’d yelled at Jess that everyone called Madame Hydra because apparently evil scientists didn’t do creative nicknames, but he had a feeling she was always close by. There was a mirror on one wall, the kind that was obviously a one-way glass, and sometimes, the scientists poking and prodding him would glance to it. Like children seeking approval from their parents, or dogs wagging their tails in hopes of a treat. It made Miles feel a little sick to know that there was someone out there watching all this. It made him even sicker to think that it was probably the same woman who’d made Jess look so scared at the Hydra base.

He heard the door open, and he lifted his head as far off the table as he could. Admittedly, that wasn’t very far at all. They had him strapped down pretty securely, even with the energized cuffs they’d stuck on him in the base. Apparently, Hydra wasn’t big on risk-taking when it came to superpowers. Miles might have found that flattering if he weren’t so scared.

“Can I get a sandwich?” His voice was a lot weaker now than it had been in the beginning, but he figured that was okay. “I could really go for a sandwich. I mean, I’d like some chalupas more, but something tells me you guys don’t have a great cook.”

“They said you were still talking,” the man commented, setting a leather case down on the table beside Miles’s head and unfolding it. The scent of rust and copper hit him in a nauseating wave, and he glanced over to see metal instruments with flecks of dried blood dulling the surface.

“That doesn’t look sanitary,” he commented, and god, he was proud that he didn’t sound as scared as he felt. The truth was, Miles was terrified. He’d been in some bad situations before, been beaten down by Kingpin and nearly strangled by his own uncle, but this? This was something else. This was something he’d never thought to prepare for. Miles always figured that this life would kill him. His introduction to heroism had been watching Peter die, and he was too smart to imagine a happier ending for himself than that. He’d accepted that this life was going to kill him, but he’d thought it would be fast. He’d thought he’d go out like Peter in a blaze of glory, fighting a battle to save the whole multiverse from collapse. Instead, it was looking more and more like he’d die here. Strapped to a table in a damp basement with pieces cut off of him, bleeding out as a science experiment. It wasn’t the end he’d imagined. It wasn’t the end he’d hoped for.

“I’ll give you this, you’re stubborn,” the man continued as if Miles hadn’t spoken at all, running his fingers along his tools until he seemed to find one he liked. It looked like some kind of plier set, and Miles shifted instinctively, putting an inch more of distance between them as if it would matter at all. “Most people stop looking for conversation after a day or so. Children usually take less time than that.”

“I’m not a ---” Miles started, but he was interrupted when the man grabbed his jaw and wrenched him forward. He held his mouth open with his hand, and Miles understood very suddenly what the pliers were for. He thrashed and yanked, trying to get his head away, but he was far from his best. He’d been here for hours or days or months or years. He wasn’t sure how long exactly, but he knew it was a while. He knew he was tired. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against the metal pliers making their way to the back of his mouth, knew he was helpless when they tightened against one of his teeth.

Of course, knowing all that didn’t make it any easier when the man yanked, and Miles let out a mangled yell at the taste of blood in his mouth.

The man hummed, pulling the pliers out with a tooth between them, inspecting it for a moment before putting it into a petri dish on the table. “Teeth aren’t the most useful source of DNA, but we do like to be thorough,” he said, sounding like a teacher in a lecture hall droning out facts to a room full of tired students.

Miles gasped out a few breaths, turning his head to the side to let the blood leak out the side of his mouth rather than down his throat. The pain was still washing over him steadily, still settling in to join the rest of the damage his stay with Hydra had left him with. “I feel…” He started, eyes clenched tightly shut, “I feel like you’re n-not a qualified d...dentist.” The words were mangled, forced out through his aching mouth, but he couldn’t stop them. He didn’t want to stop them. Peter had been rebellious to the very end, and Miles wanted to do the same. If he was going to die here, he wanted it to be with both middle fingers up --- even if that was only a metaphor at this point.

The scientist tsked thoughtfully, and Miles felt him lean in close to inspect his expression. Turning his head to face the man, he spat blood into his face, feeling satisfied at the disgusted noise it pulled from him.

Of course, the satisfaction didn’t last. The man was back in his toolkit, back to running his fingers across metal until he found something he liked. This time, it was a scalpel and Miles drew in a trembling breath. “Did you know the palpimanus gibbulus has a cuticle tens of micrometers thick? It acts as something of an armor, protects it from harm. It’s widely considered one of the toughest species of spider.” Miles watched the scalpel glint in the dull light of the bare bulb hanging above.

He was a smart guy. He knew what was coming next. A scalpel mixed with a creepy speech mixed with a hefty dose of anger? There were only so many ways that could end. That didn’t make it hurt less when the blade dug into his stomach, slicing open his uniform and his skin all at once. The scientist looked down thoughtfully. “I guess you didn’t get your powers from a palpimanus gibbulus.”

“Was that ---” Miles let out a shaky breath, eyes clamped shut as a wave of pain and nausea washed over him. “Was that a… a joke? Not… Not bad for your first time. Maybe you should quit this life and take some im---improv classes.”

The only reply he got was another cut, another bite of the scalpel digging in, and his mouth hurt a little too much to keep up a one-sided conversation. He was grateful when the scalpel went back in the toolkit, though he knew any reprieve he found would only be temporary.

Next, the scientist produced a cattle prod from somewhere outside of the scope of Miles’s vision, testing the button a few time to let the sparks fly where Miles could see them. “I hear you produce bioelectric shocks,” the scientist said, though Miles knew he wasn’t really talking to him. He was talking to hear his own voice, or to let the people behind that mirror know what was going on, or to keep a mental note of what he was doing. Talking to Miles would mean that he thought of Miles as a person, and it was clear that that wasn't the case. People didn’t treat other people this way. If Miles had to go out, he wanted to go out believing that people didn’t treat other people this way. “I’m curious if this ability makes you less susceptible to electricity.”

Miles swallowed as the cattle prod came closer. “Take off the cuffs,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual as if he were making small talk. “I can show you something that’ll really shock you if you take off these cuffs.” The scientist smirked, raising a brow before pressing the end of the cattle prod against Miles’s stomach and pressing down on the button.

Electricity, Miles learned, hurt like hell. It was almost enough to make him feel bad for all the people he’d venom blasted over the years, almost enough to make him regret it. But all the people he’d shocked had been people like this. All the people he’d hurt had been people who’d earned it. Miles didn’t like hurting people. It was an unfortunate side effect of heroism, something that had to be done in order to fix things. Some people needed to be hurt to keep them from hurting other people and it sucked, but it was the job.

Miles didn’t like hurting people, but he wanted to hurt this man now. He hadn’t felt rage like this since Aaron’s death, hadn’t felt fury this deep since he’d begged the people he’d worked with them to let him make it right. I have to make him pay. You have to let me make him pay! He hated that feeling, but he clung to it now. It was better than the electricity surging through him, better than the aching in his jaw, better than the sting of the cuts on his torso. That feeling, at least, was one he could control.

Things went on for a while after that. The man asked rhetorical questions that he answered with his experiments. Did the super strength that allowed him to swing without tiring out make the bones in his fingers stronger to compensate? The scientist bent back three of his fingers until they snapped before deciding on no. Did Miles have retractable claws, the way some spiders did? The man yanked out a fingernail from each hand before settling on no again. Every terrible question came with a more terrible form of answer and, by the time the man folded his toolkit back in on itself, Miles was exhausted.

The man looked down at him, and Miles knew he was expecting another joke. And he tried. He really did. He tried to be like Peter, like Jess, like Daisy or Natasha or Jessica. Any one of them would have hit the guy with a quip right then, even tired and beat to hell. Any one of them would have kept going, but Miles couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He closed his eyes until he heard footsteps retreating, kept them clamped tightly shut as the door opened and shut.

By his count, he’d made it the better part of three days before the quips stopped.

He tried to tell himself that was an accomplishment.

#(𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞'𝖗𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖊. || self para)#self: sharp objects #tw: kidnapping #tw: torture #tw: experimentation #tw: mutilation #tw: violence

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barpurplewrites · 6 years

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A sparkle of Magic

Belle had started decorating the library for Halloween on the first of October, but she’d been planning the Haunted House event since the middle of August. The ridiculously early start had been made necessary by Madam Mayor’s reluctance about green lighting any event in the library. Regina made no bones about the fact she hadn’t wanted the library re-opened, she did everything she could to hinder any potential success. It hadn’t taken Belle long to figure out that it was nothing personal, the library and her position as librarian were just pawns in the never-ending battle of wills between Regina and Mr Gold. Regina would cut off her own nose if she thought it would spite her rival. Nobody knew why the two loathed each other so much, but there were plenty of rumours, none of which made a lick of sense but were entertaining enough to get trotted out when there was nothing else to gossip about.

Grudgingly Regina had allowed a tiny budget for the event, all of which Belle had spent on getting Granny to cater a buffet. Granny had taken to her task with gusto and produced spooky finger sandwiches and creepy cakes. She even whipped up some treacle tarts and a punch that she called pumpkin juice, Belle was thrilled with those, the kids would get the references to the Harry Potter books as quickly as she had. Knowing the tastes of the townsfolk as well as she did, Granny had also prepared some non-Halloween food, explaining to Belle that not everyone would enjoy the creepy stuff. Belle was grateful for her suggestion, she wanted everyone to enjoy this event.

The decorations had come out of her own pocket and she thought she’d done rather well. The bookshelves were draped with cobwebs that held plastic spiders and little glow in the dark lizards. The latter didn’t really fit with the webs, but Belle hadn’t been able to resist them, and they’d only cost two dollars for a bag of fifty.

Leroy had loaned her a smoke machine he had for some reason, and he’d helped her set it up inside a cauldron she’d bizarrely found in one of the storerooms. She had no idea how the huge black metal thing had come to be stored in the library, but she was glad of it. The metallic red and yellow wrapping paper she’d bought from the store looked great as flames underneath the smoke-filled cauldron.

Anton had gifted her two dozen pumpkins from his bumper crop. The carved gourds now grinned from various points around the library, the glowsticks inside them casting colourful shadows across the walls and floor.

The part Belle was proudest of was the treasure hunt she’d set up. She’d done this a few times for the kids and they always enjoyed it. This being Halloween she’d given all the clues a spooky twist to lead the kids through the library shelves to a lucky dip bin filled with treats and a few tricks in the form of plastic bones. She would have loved to have been able to give each child a book, but her budget hadn’t stretched to that, maybe next year.

She’d opened the doors a few minutes ago and had been a little disappointed that there was nobody waiting to come in. She smoothed her witches costume down and resolved not to let anxious disappointment niggle at her. This was going to be a good night. She turned the music up a little, so it could be heard from outside and redirected one of the spooky projectors, so the shapes of ghosts spilled out on to the street.

She'd made her own Halloween play list since the ones on Spotify contained music with lyrics that weren’t family friendly. Green and red ghosts danced across the walls and ceiling as Werewolf of London started. Belle grabbed her broom, (a proper old besom Granny had given her saying; I’ll stick with my Dyson these days) and twirled around singing along to the song.

There's a freedom to being alone. Everyone sings a little louder, dances a little wilder when they are alone. Belle was bouncing around, one hand holding her pointed hat on her head the other on the broom when a voice behind her howled.

Belle jumped shrieked and spun around to glare at the new arrival. Mr Gold was leaning on his came in the doorway with one hand raised in a defensive gesture.

"I'm sorry Miss French I didn't mean to startle you."

Belle bit back the snippy comment she was going to give whoever had catcalled her. Now she realised that Mr Gold had just been joining in with the song. She straightened her hat on her head and smiled at the first customer she'd had this evening.

"Welcome Mr Gold. Enter freely and leave some of the happiness you bring."

Gold's lips twisted into a wry smile; "You might be the only person in town to claim I bring happiness."

"Well I'll take what I can get this evening," she waved a hand at the very empty library, "beside I don't believe you are half the beast you claim to be."

The swirling orange and green lights flickered over his face and made his gold tooth glint as he grinned.

"A brave statement for a pretty damsel alone with a dreaded beast."

Belle dropped her hand onto her cocked hip and leaned on her broom; "I believe we are on my home ground Mr Gold. I have the advantage wouldn't you say?"

Gold dipped his head but his hair falling into his face didn't totally hide his smile. They had been flirting with each other like this for months, and Belle was always happy to see that little smile. It told her that he was enjoying their dance as much as she was.

"I think you'll find yourself with more patrons than you know what to do with very soon."

"And how can you be so sure?"

To her great surprise he dipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved a small crystal ball. He rolled it across the back of his hand and neatly into his palm.

"Magic of course."

The ball was dancing across his fingers in a hypnotic fashion.

"Quite the goblin king"

Gold chuckled and tossed the ball into the air. As it vanished Belle could almost believe he did indeed have as much magic as Jareth.

"In truth Miss French I have just come from Granny's where young Henry Mills is drumming up trade for you."

"Bless him. He does love reading."

She glanced around to double check everything was ready.

"Do you need any assistance?"

Belle had no problems in taking any help that was offered, which is how Mr Gold found himself laying out trays of finger sandwiches and candies loaded with so much sugar he could feel his teeth dissolving just looking at them. The predicted rush of excited children arrived just as he'd set down the stack of paper plates decorated with eyeballs. Personally, he found the plates a touch off putting, it was for the best, he didn't need another lecture from his dentist about the dangers of indulging his sweet tooth.

Gold was pleased to see that many people had opted to attend the library party. The warmth was no doubt preferable to traipsing around door to door trick or treating in the cold. He'd meant to leave as soon as people began to arrive, but her found himself lingering in the shadows for the simple pleasure of watching Belle. She'd thrown herself into the role of spooky hostess. Within moments she had people dancing and trying the apple bob. Grateful parents had moved towards the buffet once they had ensured their children were well entertained.

"I had no idea our industrious bookworm had hired you to be the spectre at the feast Gold."

Long practice kept Gold's face neutral in the face of Regina's barb. She was revealing more than she would like, her peevish tone showing just how annoyed she was at the fun being had around her. She had been desperate for the library to fail, Gold knew that she'd be plotting to sell the prime real estate to a developer in an attempt to challenge him as main rental landlord.

He grinned at her; "I needed no encouragement to support this event. The library is a wonderful benefit to the community. Don't you think?"

Regina all but snarled at him. She knew that he'd use any disparaging comment against she come the next town council meeting. Gold had won this round and couldn't resist a parting jab; "Might be wise to steer clear of the apple bob, wouldn't want anyone to mistake you for the Evil Queen."

The huff of indignation was worth whatever retaliation Regina would come up with. Gold wove his way through the sizeable crowd meaning to slip out. Regina wasn't far wrong, no one would relax and have fun while he was lurking at the edges of the party. A warm hand on his arm halted him in his tracks.

"Mr Gold?"

A genuine smile curled his lips as he looked down at Belle. He'd not noticed before that her black lipstick had flecks of glitter in it. What would the town gossips say if some of that transferred to his own lips? He shook the insane thought away.

"What can I do for you Belle?"

"Dr whale has come dressed as Jareth, but he can't juggle the crystal balls and some of the kids are disappointed. Would you be willing to show them how it's done before they decided to TP the doctor?"

Before he registered what he had done Gold's traitorous tongue had framed the words; "I'd be delighted lead the way" and a beaming Belle was dragging him by the arm to the fiction section where Whale was attempting to hold court with a gaggle of increasingly irritated goblins.

Children, Gold corrected in his head, they were just children. No need to be nervous of them, for all that some of them did look like little terrors.

"I've found someone who can juggle. If you'll be good and let him show you."

Belle's calm tone caused the kids to settle, but Whale scoffed at the sight of him.

"If the goblin king can't do it, how can the beast of Storybrooke?"

It was unfortunate that Whale spoke just as the music dropped in volume. Heads turned, and the crowd began to drift towards the fiction section. Gold was just about to make a mocking comment about Whale's ridiculous cod piece when Belle's warm hand covered the one holding his cane.

"I happen to know from personal experience that Mr Gold has magic fingers."

Gold wasn't the only one who nearly choked on his tongue. Several people spluttered out mouthfuls of punch. From the corner of his eye he saw colour rise to Belle's cheeks under her pale make up. Undaunted she squared her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly.

"Show them what you've got Mr Gold."

He took strength from her confidence and plucked the crystal ball from his pocket. With no small amount of pride, he noted that while he was using a real glass Whale's balls were cheap plastic. Gold subtly handed his cane to Belle and braced his weight on his good leg, so he could use both hands. Belle wanted a show and he intended to fulfil her every wish.

It would probably be best not to dwell on the sorts of wishes he desired to grant her while he was standing in front of two dozen children.

The crystal ball rolled smoothly from the tips of his right fingers to his left and back again. The oohs and ahhs from the crowd fuelled him to nod at the plastic balls held lose in Whale's hands.

"Throw me one of those if you'd be so kind doctor."

Slack-jawed Whale did as he was bid. It was nothing for Gold to keep his own crystal rolling up and down his left hand as he caught the ball in his right. At his nod Whale threw two more and now Gold had three rolling in his right palm. He wasn't sure if they would take the weight of his crystal, but he was going to try for a big finish. He rolled the crystal on to the tips of his fingers and lightly tossed it into the air. It made a graceful arc before he caught it on top of the three balls he was rolling in his hand. There was a bit of a wobble but considering the cheers that exploded from the children he didn’t think they had noticed.

Gold pocket his own crystal and handed the others back to Whale who gave him a grin as he leaned in and whispered; “Nice show, I still look better in the costume.”

Gold snorted and stepped back to find Belle handing him his cane. He turned his head towards to ask if his performance had been acceptable, just as she stood up on her tiptoes. Her lips met his and his eyes went wide. He knew he should move away, but he was frozen to the spot, the warmth of Belle’s lips the only thing he cared about. Until the sounds of whistles and cheers reached his ears. No doubt the embarrassment would come, but for now his only concern was Belle’s well-being.

“I’m, erm, I, ah…”

Belle smiled at him; “Not quite how I was expecting that to happen, but I’m glad it did.”

Relief almost knocked him to the floor. Belle was glad that they had kissed and the reactions of the rest of the town could go hang.

On November the first those residents who where up and about early weren’t at all surprised to see Mr Gold leaving the library wearing the same suit he’d had on yesterday. The wide smile on his face and the traces of black glitter that clung to his skin gave them a pretty good idea that the Beast had spent the night in Beauty’s embrace.

#halloween house of horror 2018 #Rumbelle #Fluff #first kiss

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Bruce Campbell and 40 Years of Building The Evil Dead Myth

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When The Evil Dead returns to theaters nationwide on Oct. 7 as an exclusive one-night only Fathom event, complete with a Bruce Campbell introduction, it will be almost 40 years to the day since the film premiered at Detroit’s Redford Theatre, an ancient movie palace that even now maintains a classic theater organ in the back. During that 1981 debut, the movie was still titled “The Book of the Dead,” and Sam Raimi was renting ambulances to place outside the cinema in order to set a mood. There was a line out the door. Few might’ve guessed from such inauspicious beginnings that they’d be launching a horror classic. But four decades later, it’s still here.

The Evil Dead’s persistence at creating new fans year after year, and generation after generation, is a testament to its eagerness to be the “ultimate experience in grueling terror.” Because for a moment there, even years, this quintessential cabin in the woods movie appeared to be an outlier—a truly independent affair in which a handful of school chums stumbled around in the Tennessee wilderness and then struggled to get the movie seen by audiences. One of its financiers was allegedly horrified by its tone during that Michigan premiere; several British courts found it obscene, leading to a prolonged legal battle over censorship in the UK; and the film even only received major distribution at all because Stephen King wrote a glowing review in 1982 after seeing it at Cannes.

There’s enough mythology around how The Evil Dead was made and released to fill the pages of the Necronomicon. Twice. But year by year, story by story, that self-perpetuating legend has grown until it developed one of the greatest legacies in horror—until it became a genuine classic. Perhaps that’s why when we sit down to chat with Campbell ahead of the film’s Fathom re-release, he can’t help but laugh at some of the more embellished stories about its genesis. After all, Raimi, producer Rob Tapert, and Campbell, by his own admission, have had an intentional hand in nurturing many of the tall tales surrounding the movie.

“Sam and I encouraged a lie for years about the last shot in the movie,” Campbell says with a chuckle over the phone. He’s referring to the famous shot near the end of the picture where the unseen evil entity in the woods—or “the Force” as Raimi used to call it back then—smashes through the doors of the cabin and comes riding headlong into Campbell’s ample chin.

Says Campbell, “We had a whole story about Sam riding a motorcycle in order to smash through the doors. We said we did it last because I was probably going to get hurt, because in order to get the camera close enough, the motorcycle pretty much had to make contact [with me]. So we sort of perpetuated that lie, very successfully, for decades.”

It’s an impressive overstatement, even if the actual truth of the shot is pretty nifty on its own: Raimi came running through the doors, which were pulled away by ropes off-screen, while the director held above his head an Arriflex camera with a wide-angle lens bolted to a board. The low-fi elements of it are refreshingly cool, even more so now. Still, a motorcycle, it ain’t.

“The great comedian W.C. Fields wrote all his own press releases, and he lied in all of ‘em,” Campbell muses. “So we enjoyed doing that sort of stuff and adding to the myth.”

It’s this type of showmanship that comes naturally to Campbell, as well as Raimi and Tapert—all of whom were executive producers on The Evil Dead. They demonstrated it early when they were able to actually get the financing to make the film back in the late ‘70s after dropping out of college, and they did it again when they succeeded at making a horror spectacle so extreme, and so genuinely innovative, that we’re still talking about it. Campbell even fondly recalls how they all bought suits from thrift stores and then went around Detroit trying to pitch the movie for investors to local businessmen and dentists.

“We bought briefcases,” says Campbell. “Rob and Sam had a slimmer briefcase, and I had a thicker one because I carried a lot of the paperwork and checkbooks, and stuff like that. But we did carry briefcases because we thought that’s what investors would want to see. And we wore suits and ties, because Detroit businessmen in the ‘70s wore suits and ties.”

It was all to add an air of legitimacy to fresh faced twentysomethings who were asking for money to make a debut film in a genre that many investors couldn’t even stomach watching. According to Campbell, one man even had his associates view Raimi’s proof of concept short film, “Within the Woods,” while he stood outside. It’s worth remembering this was at a time when, as Campbell puts it, “horror was one rung above porno.”

Still, looking back at this early bid for youthful professionalism, Campbell can point to plenty of hardships that never needed any hyperbole.

During our conversation, the actor recites with a matter of fact exhaustion all the basic amenities that should be on any film set, yet were totally absent during the making of The Evil Dead. It’s as if even their memory is wearying. For one thing, there were no bathrooms at the real-life cabin; not to mention the actual nightmare that came from having no heat during the middle of an Appalachian winter; they instead relied on a portable kerosene heater for the whole production. There was also no running water and thus no way to bathe; safety precautions were non-existent, and then there was that one time a bull came running across a field at Raimi and all the production could do was watch. Even the “craft services’” would deliver doughy cake and tell Campbell it was pizza. He didn’t buy that either.

“Almost every crew member or actor got hurt in some way,” Campbell estimates. His own injury came after a tough shoot one night in the cemetery. After running down the hill and jumping, Campbell broke his ankle. As he recalls now, “We had to keep shooting the rest of the night, with Sam and Rob Tapert cornering me in a room, poking my ankle with sticks because they thought it was funny.” He later adds, “I’ll always favor that ankle lovingly, because I know it came from Sam.”

Be that as it may, Campbell looks back on the whole experience with as much nostalgia as shudders.

“It’s both, because I don’t really remember how horrible it was,” Campbell says. “My memory doesn’t really work that way. My memory tends to gloss over stuff. So yeah, no question it was uncomfortable, but we had nothing to compare it to. So it wasn’t until later that we figured out how bad it was, and by that point, it’s over. So what’s the difference?”

How ever he considers that time in the woods now, it certainly paid off. With its extreme use of gore, grandiose camera movements, and filmmaking flair, The Evil Dead remains a singular experience—one might even say grueling. It paved the way for sequels like Evil Dead II and Army of Darkness, plus the much later television series Ash vs Evil Dead. And for Campbell there’s something particularly provocative and enduring about that first effort.

“Sam’s a good filmmaker, and he’s got sequences in there that are very visually impressive,” Campbell says. “So he sort of drew them in, stylistically. But it’s also sort of docu-horror, the way we actually shot it in a real cabin in the middle of nowhere. You can kind of tell, so it seeps into the movie.”

When looking at how The Evil Dead was made versus Campbell’s Starz TV series, the actor points out what a difference professional expertise makes, as well as how it can change the visceral grime and dirt under the fingernails that audiences can intuitively feel while watching such a movie.

“In the first Evil Dead, Ash hears a noise by a window, he sees a shadow, he turns with the shotgun, and he blows the window out,” says Campbell. “Well, in 1979 in rural Tennessee, you just take a shotgun and you blow the window out. There’s no stunt guy. There’s no nothing…. And then by the time you get to Ash vs Evil Dead, I’d raise the shotgun and a guy on set would go, ‘Ready and bang!’ When he says, ‘Bang,’ I’d jerk the gun, and a guy on set hits me with an interactive light for the flash. And they put a digital flash in that’s any length you want, any color we want, and a big smoke plume and a Howitzer cannon sound effect.”

Campbell admits it’s safer, but it loses that handcrafted quality which makes The Evil Dead still both so creepy and, depending on the audience, amusing. When asked if he misses those old ways, Campbell concedes, “I only miss it a little bit, because there was a lot of dumb stuff done on movie sets back in the day that should not have been done. We skirted around safety stuff, and film sets are much safer now. So I’ll take now for the sake of safety, but the funny thing is we just didn’t know any other way.”

It’s safe to say that they wouldn’t make The Evil Dead today like they did back then, but then that’s the original’s charm, and the root of the stories we tell about it. Even when compared to the sequels and spinoffs where Raimi’s camera rigs got more elaborate, and Campbell’s acting got better with each sharpened wisecrack, there is nothing as chilling as seeing actors genuinely freezing on a winter night.

By the time of Army of Darkness and Ash vs Evil Dead, Campbell was able to really develop the character of Ashley Williams, and his own acting talents, turning the protagonist into what Campbell estimates is the archetypal “ugly American.” One might wonder then if the performer has more satisfaction from the later projects—he does tell us the Starz TV show was his chance to be like George Lucas and go back and “fix all those shitty effects.” If so, Campbell keeps such thoughts to himself while speaking with pride on what the first Evil Dead did for his career and the horror genre.

“You don’t always want to be known for the [character you played] when you had the least experience,” Campbell considers. “So you’re always going to have the echo of Ash wherever I go, which is fine. But I’m glad that people are still finding it relevant all these years later. You can’t ever look down on it, because it got me into the film business. So mostly, I’m just grateful.”

Fathom Events will present The Evil Dead 40th Anniversary with Bruce Campbell at theaters across the U.S. on Thursday, Oct. 7. Get your tickets now at www.FathomEvents.com

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pamphletstoinspire · 6 years

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Understanding The Bible - A Practical Guide To Each Book In The Bible - Part 13

Written by: PETER KREEFT

THIRTEEN

________

Job Confronts Life’s Darkest Problem and Encounters God Himself

It is universally recognized that Job is one of the greatest books ever written, an all-time classic. It is terrifying, beautiful, haunting, mysterious, tender, yet powerful as a sledgehammer—if only we read it with empathy and openness and not try to “figure it out” as if it were a detective story.

Though bottomlessly mysterious, its main point, or lesson, is very obvious. It lies right on the surface, in the words of God to Job at the end. Only a philosopher (like Rabbi Kushner, in his bestseller When Bad Things Happen to Good People) can miss the message. If the problem of Job is the problem of evil, then the answer is that we do not know the answer. We identify with Job in his ignorance, not in his knowledge.

The problem of evil, of suffering, of injustice in a world ruled by an all-powerful and all-just God, is life’s darkest problem. Job offers us no clear solution, no philosophical formula, no bright little concept, but an infinite mystery. God Himself, rather than any idea God teaches, is Job’s answer. He is the God Rabbi Abraham Heschel describes as “not an uncle, but an earthquake”.

Much of the dramatic interest in Job comes from the ironic contrast between Job’s point of view and God’s. The reader is allowed to share God’s point of view too because of the preface (chap. 1), but Job is not. Thus there is a constant irony, a contrast between what seems to Job and what really is. God seems to be on trial; Job is really on trial. Job seems to be questioning God; God is really questioning Job.

Five Levels of Understanding Job

Job is a many-layered book. Peel away surface layers and you find more underneath. Five of these layers are the following:

First, there is the problem of evil. How can a good God let bad things happen to good people? The solution of Job’s three friends is simple: Job is not “good people”. Faced with the apparent alternative between doubting God’s goodness or Job’s, they doubt Job’s. It is a reasonable conclusion, but wrong, as we know from God’s own words describing Job as “a sound and upright man, one who fears God and turns away from evil”.

Second, there is the problem of the conflict between faith and experience. Job’s faith tells him to expect just rewards; Job’s experience shows him undeserved suffering. One of God’s most important attributes in the Old Testament is His fidelity (emeth, “truth”), His trustability; and Job’s experience seems to prove God untrustworthy. In fact, Job is on trial, not God, and he is proved trustworthy. God plays brinkmanship with him, but Job passes the test. As Saint Paul says of God centuries later, He does not let us be tested beyond what we are able to endure (1 Cor 10:13).

Third, there is the problem of the meaning and purpose of life, expressed in Job’s question to God, “Why didst thou bring me forth from the womb?” (10:18). The question turns a different color when asked from agony. It is here not the philosopher’s detached speculation but the sufferer’s cry, “Why do you let this happen to me?” Job is like a small child’s tear-stained face looking up at Daddy who has apparently let his child down.

Fourth, there is the problem of identity. When Job’s three friends come to comfort him, they cannot recognize him at first (2:12), so disfigured he looks, sitting on his dung heap covered with sores. This is the Job who formerly sat in the city gates solving everyone’s problems and shining forth as an example of justly rewarded righteousness. Has Job lost his identity? Just the opposite: his suffering brings him his deepest identity, as the sculptor’s chisel strokes bring identity to a great statue.

Fifth, and deepest of all, there is the problem of God. Neither Job nor anyone in the Bible ever denies God’s existence (except “the fool” in Ps 53:1). But God’s purposes and God’s character and God’s reliability are the mystery revealed throughout the Bible and throughout Job. The question is not what God is in Himself (the theologian’s question) but who God is to me, to Job. This is the key to open the doors to solve the other problems as well, for it is God who gives Job his identity, his purpose, and his solutions.

Job’s three friends are not fools. Readers often omit reading their speeches and concentrate only on Job, but this is a mistake. Their arguments are very strong. (1) Their faith premise states that God is all-good and all-powerful and rules His world with perfect justice. (2) Their ethical premise adds that justice means rewarding the good and punishing the evil. (3) Their common-sense premise further reasons that rewards are in the form of happiness and punishments in the form of misery, not vice versa. (4) Their experiential premise is that Job is very miserable. (5) Their logical conclusion is that Job is very wicked. They do not argue in exactly that logical form, but with much more poetry and power, but that is the gist of their argument. Job cannot answer it.

Seeing God

The answer the book suggests is, first, that God’s goodness and justice are far more mysterious than we think. Second, our blessedness is also far more mysterious. Long-range blessedness is purchased with short-range miseries. Suffering makes for wisdom, which is the heart of blessedness. That part of the solution is well known to all the sages.

What Job adds to the sages is that the essence of this long-range happiness is the vision of God Himself, whom Job asked to meet face-to-face even if he must die (13:15). We must appreciate the Jews’ deep fear of God and conviction that no one could see God’s face and live, if we are to appreciate the drama of the ending of Job, where God shows Job His face and Job not only survives but is satisfied. “I had heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees thee” (42:5).

This ending answers another problem in Job: Why is Job satisfied even though God does not answer a single one of Job’s agonized and very good questions? Job is not a meek, humble, easily satisfied man. He’s from Missouri. Fr. George Rutler is right: we must not speak of the “patience of Job”, but of the impatience of Job.

Job is satisfied by the only possible answer that would satisfy such a man. If God had offered words, Job would surely have questioned those words again, and the verbal battle would have gone on eternally, as it does among philosophers. Instead of answers, Job got the Answerer. Instead of words, Job got the Word. Job got what Saint Thomas Aquinas asked for shortly before his death, when the Lord, speaking from the crucifix, said to him, “You have written well of me, Thomas; what will you have as a reward?” Thomas gave the world’s best possible answer: “Only yourself, Lord.”

God the Questioner

Another problem is that of timing. Why does God hang Job out to dry for thirty-seven chapters? Why does Job have to go through his long and agonizing dark night of the soul? “Seek and you shall find”—but Job seeks and fails to find for a long time. Why?

Because God is the Finder, not the found; the Subject, not the object; the Questioner, not the answer man; the Initiator, not the responder. A God who would have showed up in response to Job’s questions would not have been the true God, but a divine computer programmed to supply the answers if only we press the right buttons. When God does show up, the first thing He says is, “Now it is my turn to ask, and yours to answer.” Just as Jesus hardly ever answers a question directly, but answers the questioner instead of the question, thus reversing the relationship and making the questioner the one who is challenged, so God reverses the roles in Job. Job learns that he is not asking God, “What is your meaning?” but God is asking Job “What is your meaning?” in and through the events of his life. It is true for all of us. Whenever we are led to ask, “What is the meaning of my life?” we are being asked exactly that question by God. We answer it not merely by words or thoughts only, but by deeds, choices, responses to life’s challenges and sufferings.

Thus another problem is solved: for whom does God let Job suffer so? It certainly is not for the sake of the accuser, Satan, who is a mere instrument in God’s hands, like a dentist’s drill. Nor is it for God’s sake, as if God were ignorant of the future and had to set up an experiment to find out whether Job would pass His test of fidelity.

So it must be for Job’s sake.

It must be out of God’s love for Job. This would sound totally absurd to Job on the dung heap, of course, but it is perfectly understood by Job when he sees God face-to-face. God carved out a great hollow place for Himself in Job with all these sufferings. Yet the hole made no sense until God came and filled it, as a lock makes no sense until the key comes.

Speaking Truth vs. Speaking Truly

Finally, there is a deep puzzle in 42:7. God says that Job—who (by his own admission) uttered “wild words” of challenge to God, full of mistakes and even heresies (for example, that God is unjust)—spoke “rightly” about Him, but that the three friends, who said nothing but pious orthodoxies, did not! But everything the friends say can be found in the rest of the Bible. How can this be wrong? Job contradicts it; how can this be right?

The friends spoke the truth, but not truly. Job spoke untruths, but truly. For the friends, God was an absent, indifferent object; for Job, God was a present, involved person. The three friends had a polite correspondence with God; Job had a stormy marriage with God, including fights but no divorce. The biggest difference between Job’s speeches and those of the friends is that they only speak about God, while Job speaks to God. Prayer is the most accurate theology, for God is the I AM, not the IT IS. As Rabbi Martin Buber said, “God can only be addressed, not expressed.”

Job is a Christ-figure. He is a “suffering servant”, chosen by God to suffer not because he is so bad, but because he is so good. And he suffers for others. At the end, God accepts the three friends only because Job prays and sacrifices for them. In Job we see the christological drama of death and resurrection played out not on the hill of Calvary outside the soul, but in a mirror-image of it, a hole in the heart where the words “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” go up as a precious and redemptive offering to heaven. What happens in the Book of Job is the Mass, and Job is the altar.

#understanding the bible

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storytaeme · 7 years

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celebration – vmin

Doctors had always been his enemy, however, for the sake of the Christmas champagne, he would get his teeth fixed up by the cutest dentist.

vmin week 2017 – taehyung x jimin

❧ Elements: Fluff | Dentist AU, Christmas Party AU

❧ Word Count: 5,353 words

❧ A/N: Merry Christmas, you guys!! I procrastinated again and hence this was finished off again in a little over 2 hours. It was fun to write so I hope you can enjoy it :^D (forgive typos my eyes r blurry rn)

Taehyung didn’t like doctors very much. As a kid, he had shied away from anyone who even resembled the authoritative figure. It wasn’t as if he had some traumatizing experience getting stabbed with a needle in the wrong part of his body—no. Doctors were generally just intimidating with their lab coats and strong frowns. They tried to play nice when he was younger, smiled and offered him a lollipop. But as he grew older, the fear towards them only amplified. They were less nice too—he never got candy anymore.

Whenever he could, he would just get his own medicine and treat his own wounds and sicknesses, avoiding the doctor as much as he could. However, there came a time in every adult’s life when they must face their fear for the good of their lives and the world itself.

The time for Taehyung was upon him.

It happened sometime close to Christmas. It was the first week of December and someone from the office, Seokjin, had brought homemade fruitcake for everyone in the building to nibble on. Seokjin was commonly known as the chef of the crew. He was an expert in all sorts of goodies and treats, which made everyone wonder why he went corporate instead of opening his own bakeshop. So fruitcakes were never a huge Thing with anyone, but the man had his way of making it so that everyone could enjoy it. It was delicious and Taehyung looked forward to it every year.

Unfortunately for him that year, things took a turn for the worse. It was in the first bite that Taehyung found himself in pure agony. He had released a yelp which caught the attention of the baker himself who hurried over in worry. “Oh my God, are you okay? Did you bite something hard?”

Taehyung winced and swallowed the treat. It went down smoothly so surely there was nothing in the cake that was the problem. However, his cheek was throbbing painfully and he could feel it swelling grossly. “Ugh,” he groaned, “this hurts, what the fuck?”

“Ha,” Jeongguk, an intern who had the guts of a senior member, snorted, “you must have a hole in your tooth or something. That’s what you get for not flossing.” This was probably his karma for making fun of Jeongguk for flossing after every meal. It wasn’t his fault—flossing was just such a tedious task, he didn’t know why anyone did it after every meal.

“Fuck off, Jeon,” he snapped, the pain biting at his cheek once again. This was such a bitch to deal with, especially during Christmas when everyone was in the gift-giving mood which meant that there was always something good to eat in the office—free of charge. He loved Christmas and all of its capitalism glory.

Seokjin’s brows furrowed in concern. “He might be right, Taehyung-ah, when was the last time you went to the dentist?”

Answer: ninth grade when he needed to take his braces off.

Like he said, doctors scared him, but dentists were the worst. How anyone could just dig into someone’s mouth like that, drill holes into their teeth, and stick on pieces of metal that would magically right the structuring of his teeth was beyond him. If Taehyung limited his visits to his general practitioner, he downright avoided his dentist religiously. The guy was hell to deal with, was merciless when it came to numbing to pain (read: he never fucking numbed Taehyung to the pain). He needed to find a new one but had managed long enough to avoid the task for a double win situation in which he could eschew yet another doctor, as well as the actual dentist hunting job.

“Dunno, been a while,” he lied through his teeth which was still stinging.

“You should go, definitely go before Namjoon’s party.”

Namjoon was another of their coworker but was a close friend in their tight knit group. He held his annual Christmas party at his huge penthouse that his parents had gotten for him after graduation and always celebrated with a ton of booze and great snacks. It was a dream come true for an office worker like Taehyung who worked a low position that paid bordering on minimum wage. Plus, the guy always had the best champagne in the house that left Taehyung buzzing and giggly for the night.

“I hate my dentist, hyung,” Taehyung whined.

“Kim Taehyung,” Seokjin scolded as Jeongguk snickered, “you are a grown man, you are 27—”

“Excuse you, I am 28.”

“Even worse!” he huffed, throwing his hands in the air, “you should definitely get that checked up. I know a good friend of mine who just picked up a job nearby. He’s pretty reliable and was top of his class so he can take good care of you.”

Taehyung was about to spit out another whine about the evil of dentists but Seokjin only shoved a namecard in his direction. He took it gratefully and stared at it, hoping that his glare would burn holes right through it so he would avoid going to it. Alas, fate was not with him, and he didn’t have laser beams for eyes. In addition to that, he really, really wanted to enjoy that good ass champagne in Namjoon’s house.

Thus, some sacrifices must be made. Taehyung made his way to the dentist right after work.

“Did you go, Kim Taehyung?” Seokjin pressed, slamming his hand on his desk. It was break time and Seokjin had stalked his way over to his desk to interrogate him.

“Yeah, I’m a-okay, hyung,” he grinned.

Seokjin narrowed his eyes suspiciously before pulling out a cold bottle of water. The sight of it had his stomach sinking. “Drink this.”

“Hyung—”

“Do it.”

Fuck, he was fucked. He brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips and thought, hey, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Taehyung has learned that he was wrong about a lot of things in life—this was only another to add onto his list.

The pain was excruciating, traveling all the way from the ache in his teeth to a muddy fizzling in his brain. He let out a yelp as he banged his head against his desk to alleviate some of the pain with another. “Fucking shit, motherfucking holy shit,” Taehyung let out expletive after expletive as he continued to ram his forehead into his table.

“Serves you right,” Seokjin laughed, “I told you to go. Why didn’t you?”

“It’s scary, hyung,” Taehyung pouted, hoping that his cutesy act would work.

But his friend always had a better act, so it wasn’t surprising that it didn’t work on him. “Nice try, buddy. I’m calling my friend right now to book you and appointment and, if you don’t go, I will know and you will suffer my wrath. Understood?” Taehyung stuck out his bottom lip further. “I said, understood?”

“Yes, hyung,” he said, defeated.

That was how he ended up standing in front of the dentist office. That tooth sign above the building with the smiley face on it was taunting him, mocking him for being too chicken shit to even go into the place. He sucked up a huge breath before walking inside. There were so many people. It was terrifying.

Taehyung was about to walk outside when the nurse stopped him. “Kim Taehyung?”

Holy shit, how did they know his name? They were part of the mafia, weren’t they? He fucking knew there was something off about doctors. They all probably conspired for world domination. “Um, yes,” he squeaked.

“Welcome!” she grinned, “I’ve been instructed by one of our doctors to intercept you should you attempt to leave.”

What the fuck? “Who’s the doctor?”

“Dr. Park, he said that his friend called in to make sure you arrived. Since you’re already here, why don’t you take a seat? He’s finishing up with a patient and should be with you momentarily.”

Taehyung had his hands tied. It wasn’t as if he could run when the nurse kept a hawk’s eye on him, smiling at him every once in a while almost threateningly. It was as if she was warning him that she had a close watch on him. His knee kept bouncing the entire time. The clock was ticking aloud on the wall, reminding him of the passing seconds that came closer to his death. When his name was finally called, Taehyung let out a yelp and jumped to his teeth. That earned him a few chuckles from the other patients. Har de har, good to know his pain was bringing them some form of amusement.

“Follow me, Mr. Kim,” the nurse smiled sweetly and led him down another hallway towards one of the rooms.

Dr. Park Jimin

Holy shit. He was going to die. The nurse announced his arrival and he heard a deeper, more masculine voice respond from the other side. When he finally stepped in, really, the last thing he was expecting was a cherubic looking man who had a crinkly-eyed smile greeting him. He looked almost like an angel. To say he was beautiful would be an understatement. “Um, hi,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Taehyung right? Seokjin-hyung called earlier,” Jimin nodded. Taehyung wondered if Seokjin had exposed his fear of doctors despite being in his late twenties. “I heard you had a difficult time coming here so I appreciate you making the effort.” Yep, he definitely told him.

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a situation,” he chuckled nervously.

“Don’t be so scared,” Jimin smiled politely and gestured to the seat, “please. Get yourself comfortable and I’ll be with you in a second. I’ll just do a quick checkup to see the problem and we can fill in the holes should you need. Does that sound good?”

Taehyung could only manage a nod before robotically making his way over to the seat. He settled back and shifted around to get his shoulders to stop tensing up. But every time Jimin made some noise behind him where he couldn’t see, all he could picture was all the ways he could escape the room.

When Jimin finally appeared before him, snapping his gloves into place (Taehyung gulped at that), Taehyung was practically shuddering in fear. It didn’t go by unnoticed by the man, of course. “Are you okay, Taehyung-ssi?”

“F-fine, just a little nervous.”

Jimin’s lips quirked up on the corners. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt one bit. If you experience pain at any point, please let me know. Some things may sting a little but it shouldn’t be intolerable.”

Taehyung agreed obediently and opened his mouth when Jimin gestured him to do so. As Jimin said, he explained the procedure very carefully and slowly to ensure Taehyung that he knew exactly what he was doing. Taehyung would be so embarrassed with how calmly the dentist was speaking to him as if he were coaxing a child to relax if he weren’t so terrified. However, as promised, Jimin did everything quick and painlessly. Sure, there was a bit of a zing here and there, but it was nothing he could not handle.

The nurses left soon after as Jimin finished up with one last check up. “Looks perfect,” he grinned, eyes disappearing again. The entire time Jimin was chipping away at his teeth, which is so unsexy by the way, Taehyung’s gaze focused solely on the man’s face. Up close, he was even more breathtaking. His blonde hair falling upon his eyes and his gaze zoned in on Taehyung so intensely that he felt his breath hiccup in his throat. His cheeks were soft and rosy, round enough like a dumpling that Taehyung wanted to bite him.

It was a peculiar and novel reaction to a doctor. Taehyung had never experienced it before.

“You’re all set,” Jimin beamed, patting his shoulder thoughtfully once he’s removed his gloves. “Please rinse your mouth there and I’ll give you a flyer of tips on how to care for your teeth.”

Taehyung did as he was instructed but his eyes still followed Jimin around the room as he fiddled around with folders and tools. The doctor seemed aware of his attention and turned around, quirking an eyebrow. “Is there something on my face?”

“N-no, no,” he coughed, eyes widening, “sorry. You just look very young, nothing like what I expected.”

Jimin laughed, taking no offense in his words. “Why thank you. I am quite young for a practicing dentist. I graduated early from university and jumped on training after training to get to where I am faster. A bit of an overachiever as you can see.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Ambition is great,” Taehyung praised honestly because he really was impressed by his dedication.

“How about you?” he tilted his head, “Seokjin-hyung said you worked with him at the office.”

“Yeah, HR. Pretty cool when you’re not dealing with assholes in the department,” Taehyung shrugged. His job was pretty boring, especially when all he could do was sit in a cubicle waiting for tasks to be handed over to him. Seokjin was the head so he worked under him and he was a fantastic supervisor, but Taehyung couldn’t help but want something more for himself.

The dentist smiled understandingly. “I get you. It’s always kind of scary when you settle, but also when you have shitty coworkers. The nurses here are wonderful but, don’t tell anyone, the head nurse scares the living shit out of me.”

Taehyung laughed genuinely at that, heart easing of his worries. “It’s always the heads, huh?”

“Though, I do love head,” Jimin said nonchalantly as he tucked documents under his arm.

He said it so casually that Taehyung almost missed it, but he gasped, lips parting in surprise. “Did you just drop a dirty line?”

Jimin smirked, “Did I?”

“You really are a pretty weird doctor,” Taehyung muttered under his breath.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he giggled and the sound had birds singing outside. He might even pass as a Disney princess if the company ever took ethereal human beings to represent royalty. “Anyway, here are some brochures for you to read up on. Make sure to keep your gums and teeth healthy, Taehyung-ssi, if you want to avoid another trip to the doctor.” Taehyung flushed at that, but knew Jimin only meant well. “Also,” he lifted up a small box, “complimentary floss from me so you can keep your teeth clean.”

Flossing, ugh. He nodded, accepting it gratefully. “Thanks, Dr. Park.”

“Please, we’re the same age, call me Jimin.

Taehyung blanched, “You’re the same age as me?”

“Hyung didn’t tell you?” Jimin looked amused then, “how odd. But yeah, we’re both born in ’95.”

Holy shit. Taehyung felt so in over his head. “Wow, what are the odds?”

“Pretty big actually,” Jimin grinned, “so yep, that’s all from me. Any other questions?”

Are you single? Can I have your number? Do you like dogs? Can I marry you? How are you not as scary as every other doctor I’ve had as a kid?

“Nope,” he answered simply, “thanks, Jimin. It’s been nice meeting you.”

“You too, Taehyung, I’ll see you around.”

Taehyung thought that it was kind of cute that he was already dropping honorifics, but chose not to peep a word about it. With one last bow, he made his way over to the door.

However, before he could make it very far, Jimin intercepted him to hand him a lollipop. “For your gallant efforts,” he grinned, no malice or mocking whatsoever in his voice.

Taehyung might just be in love.

—

Namjoon’s penthouse was perhaps the most luxurious place Taehyung had ever set foot upon. While his apartment was a little on the smaller side, Namjoon had a generous amount of space to host his guests. The guy wasn’t a snob at all either, always so kind with his wealth and so philanthropic. Husband material, some might say.

When he arrived, dressed in a crisp salmon shirt, top button popped open, and his favorite jeans that made his ass looked fucking fantastic, Namjoon was the one to greet him. “Taehyung! You made it! How’s your teeth?”

Namjoon also was dating Seokjin so that meant that he was privy to every single bit of information that Seokjin knew—including the suffering of his colleagues and employees. “Perfect,” he grinned for added measure, flashing his perfect set of teeth.

“Great, ‘cause I’ve got that champagne you like.”

Taehyung breathed in, cupping the man’s face. “I think I love you.”

Namjoon only laughed and ushered him in, “You have to compete with Seokjin then for my affections. Food is out on the table, you know where everything is, don’t break anything, have fun.” With those last tidbits of advice, the elder was whisked away to tend to his other guests, namely Hoseok who was on the verge of toppling over Namjoon’s bookcase.

Taehyung mingled with a few coworkers he recognized. They ran in similar social circles so their friends overlapped, allowing the younger to interact with a lot of the people there. He was a bit of a social butterfly, if he had to admit. He didn’t really have a hard time communicating with others and initiating talks that could have them droning on and on for hours—he wasn’t sure whether it was a gift or a curse.

He stuffed his face stupid with food and too many flutes of that delicious champagne. His eyes scanned the crowd, most of the faces identified as familiar in his brain directory. However, only one individual stood out amongst the rest and he was standing in a far corner, quietly nursing his drink.

“Hey, Jimin right?” Taehyung grinned.

“Yeah, oh, Taehyung!” he snapped his fingers, seeming accomplished that he could recall his former patient’s name. “How are you doing? How’s your teeth?”

That’s the second time he’s been asked tonight, third if you included Jeongguk making fun of him for being scared of the dentist. He had gotten an ass whooping for that alone. “Teeth is great, pearly white and clean,” he widened his smile to show to his doctor that he had indeed taken his advice. Except for the flossing, he was going to make a ban on that.

“That’s great to hear,” Jimin looked relieved, “I hope there was no more pain afterwards.”

“I’ve been gorging down cake like there’s no tomorrow and a shit ton of this,” he lifted up his glass, “it’s great. I love having nice teeth again so I can stuff my face stupid. Have you eaten yet?”

Jimin brightened at that, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, hyung is a great cook, I still can’t believe he prepared everything for tonight. If I could husband that man, I would.”

“You take him, I’ll take Namjoon-hyung. It’ll be the perfect cockblocking plan.”

The other boy tinkled with laughter adorably, the sound ringing sweetly in his ears. Taehyung found himself seeking for jokes and material in his mind to elicit the same sounds from him. They ended up chatting amicably, picking up more champagne and snacks to fill their bellies. Somewhere halfway through the night, the two settled down on the couch. Taehyung leaning close to tell his stories, albeit a little drunkenly. Jimin leaning even closer to listen in and share his adorable reactions. They bumped foreheads every once in a while when they got too close, then proceeded to laugh at how ridiculous that was.

“You guys look comfy,” Seokjin showed up sometime afterwards, grinning from ear to ear. “Who knew that Taehyung would get over his fear of doctors by attempting to hook up with one?”

Jimin flushed prettily at that, his cheeks reddening to tomatoes and his ears heating up a fiery pink. Taehyung only scoffed, “Way to ruin my chances, hyung. I could’ve had a win-win there—get rid of my stupid phobia and nail a cute man. You’ve foiled it all.”

“My apologies,” Seokjin hummed, “but not really. You guys are grossly cute. I think I saw Jeongguk pop a boner just by watching the two of you.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, “Jeongguk is an infant who gets his dick hard from seeing a good pastry. Don’t even deny it, I’ve seen it happen when you brought your homemade hazelnut croissants to work.” Then he directed his attention to Jimin, “Jeongguk is this brat in our division. Big muscles, scary eyebrows, but he is a baby. Our baby.”

Jimin chuckled again at that, patting Taehyung’s thigh comfortingly. “I think I’ve seen him around. Though, what’s cuter is probably your fear of doctors. I had no idea you had that.”

Seokjin snorted, shaking his head. “You should’ve seen him, he tried to lie about going to the dentist that I had to call you up,” he sighed, offering Taehyung his own condolences.

Heaven help him. Taehyung was about to offer his own condolences to his chances with Park Jimin. The man, he learned, was brilliant and beautiful at the same time. Also he had the brawns what with his toned body and gym addiction. He was the ultimate triple threat, the ultimate boyfriend material.

“Why are you still here?” Taehyung jutted out his bottom lip.

“Okay, okay, I know when I’m not wanted, you ass,” Seokjin hissed, getting to his feet. “Have fun, kids, don’t forget to use protection.”

When he finally walked away, Taehyung let out a frustrated huff. He really did need better friends who wouldn’t fuck up his chances with every cute guy he tried to chat up. It’s happened too many times before, especially when Jeongguk got a little too drunk during their one department outing to a club and he had draped himself all over Taehyung that he missed out on the chance of getting that sugar daddy.

Though, he supposed fate worked in funny ways. If he had a sugar daddy, he might not have been so keen to seek out Park Jimin this way, and that would’ve been the biggest regret of his life. The two of them had good chemistry that neither of them could deny. Even after only one interaction and that lengthy conversation, Taehyung felt as if he had found a new best friend in this man.

“So was it true?” Jimin asked then, turning his head cutely. God, Taehyung wanted to kiss his plump lips and maybe suck in that bottom lip and bite it.

“What? My fear of doctors?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow and Jimin’s lips tightened and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know. They freak me out. I’ve always been kind of terrified of them, not sure why. They’re kind of scary, you have to admit. Lab coats and that intimidating glare.”

Jimin giggled again, running his hand up Taehyung’s arm. “Do you think I’m intimidating?”

“No, you’re just… really cute. Like really, really cute,” Taehyung frowned, wondering if he was satisfied with that answer. Jimin was far from frightening, the guy practically existed like an angel.

“Hm, really? That’s good to hear,” Jimin murmured thoughtfully. Before Taehyung realized, the man had already placed a warm palm on his thigh. His touch burned and Taehyung suddenly was hyperaware of how close they were. He could feel Jimin’s breath against his neck, against his cheek. His hand on his leg squeezing the flesh underneath as if to remind Taehyung that it was fucking there. The air in the room seemed to diffuse out completely, leaving him a little breathless. How had he not been aware of the tension that arose between the two of them until then?

Taehyung could only babble his agreement, taking another big gulp of his drink to get more liquid courage.

“So,” Jimin started, scooting even closer if that were possible. Their bodies were pressed together, leaving no room for Taehyung to breathe. Jimin tightened his hold around his thigh again, looking up from his pretty lashes at Taehyung. “Since you’re so scared, why don’t I give you private checkups? I can make sure that you’re fit and healthy.”

“P-private checkups?” His brain suddenly stopped working. How did one even comprehend sentences when Park Jimin was this close?

“Mhmm,” Jimin hummed, creeping his hand up higher. He was so close, so close to his crotch. Taehyung’s zipper might burst from the sheer tenacity of its desire to seek Jimin’s hand. “I can get my hands all over you, make sure you’re nice and comfy before I start checking your body. Make sure everything is functioning fine and that you’re still a healthy, growing boy.”

Taehyung wanted to say that he was no longer growing, but the thought of Jimin calling him a good boy, that he was a healthy boy, had his dick stirring in his pants. God, he could practically imagine Jimin in his coat, laying him back on the bed and exploring every inch of him. He would run his heated hands and act as if he was checking on Taehyung, fondling his nipples and pinching them. Then he would wander his hand down south, ghosting over the softness of his stomach before wrapping around his dick.

Taehyung wanted to cry just letting his imagination take over. He was perfectly aware that he was basically hyperventilating at that point with the thought of a sexy doctor roleplay with Park Jimin. All thoughts and fears of doctors seemed to fly out the window when it was Jimin handling him. He could most definitely roll with that.

This was going to be the death of him. RIP Kim Taehyung.

“Yeah,” Taehyung swallowed thickly, “I think I can work with that.”

Jimin grinned smugly, “That’s good. I can even do the private checkup in my house, lay you out on my comfortable bed to make sure you’re relaxed and ready for me. Do you want that?”

Yes, yes, fuck yes. Sign him the fuck up. He was going to book himself for this one-on-one session everyday for the next five years of his life. He was ready.

Instead he said, “Yep, yep, sounds great.” He was barely keeping it together. His chest was so tight with his lungs pushing out what was left of his breaths.

“Do you want me to check on you, baby?” Jimin tittered close to him, teeth catching the shell of his ear teasingly. Fuck. Taehyung jerked a little in his seat. The member between his legs was throbbing painfully, practically begging for a release. God, he could feel sweat collecting in the back of his neck and making his palms all clammy. He was reacting like a prepubescent boy, Christ, he needed to get laid soon. Preferably by this sexy dentist who probably knew just how to toy with his mouth, maybe fuck into it with his dick too.

Shit.

“Taehyung?” Jimin whispered.

“Hm?” His voice sounded strained, forced. He was on the cusp of a breakdown and an orgasm at the same time. This was torture.

“You wanna get out of here?” Jimin squeezed his thigh again. Bad move, very bad move. He wanted to come on the spot. “My place isn’t too far away and I drove so—”

He leapt to his feet, bouncing lightly as he offered a hand out to the other boy. “Yes, shit, fuck yes. Let’s go. I’m ready to bolt and have you fuck my ass or the other way around.”

Jimin’s lips parted in surprise, his eyes briefly glancing around the room to see if anyone had noticed them. Fortunately, everyone was busy with their own devices and conversations, far too distracted to notice the bubbling sexual tension between the two of them. That was, except for Seokjin. But Jimin shouldn’t mention it to Taehyung then because it might ruin the moment. So he took his hand and grinned up at him. “Let’s go, baby, I’ll make sure you feel all nice and cozy with me.”

It was safe to say that Taehyung went back to Jimin’s place and had the release of a lifetime. It was like magic had rained down fairy dust upon the world and righted all of its wrongs. His orgasms (yes, fucking plural) were mind-blowing and muscle-exploding. He couldn’t move an inch afterwards. His ass was thoroughly fucked out because, turns out, Jimin was pretty rough when it came to bed and Taehyung really, really wasn’t complaining. He had gotten a nice, satisfying fuck from a very, very pretty man who was lying down next to him in that moment.

Jimin looked beautiful awake, looked beautiful as he fucked into Taehyung from above and leaned down to capture his lips. But he also looked beautiful asleep, his expression smoothed out into one of absolute peacefulness and serenity. His shoulders were bare and so was the rest of him underneath the sheets.

Taehyung took his time drinking in the man’s glorious beauty and wondering how God could have gifted someone with all the powers in the world to rule it. Life really wasn’t fair. But for now, Taehyung could feel that at least his irrational fear of doctors had been somewhat cured but also compensated by this lovely man across from him.

He scooted closer, draping his hand over Jimin’s waist and feeling the boy tuck himself into Taehyung’s chest. His heart felt like it was about to burst and it was strange to feel so much for someone he’s only known for a short period of time. It might just be the post-orgasm high, but he would take it for that moment. He had all the time in the world to figure it out after all.

With that, he allowed his eyes to close, eyelids fluttering shut, and fall into deep slumber, dreaming of a beautiful man who could fuck the living daylights out of him but shit sunshine out of his ass. It was a good night.

“Kim Taehyung,” Jimin chided and the guilty man turned around to look at his boyfriend sheepishly. It was in their fourth month anniversary and Taehyung had taken him out to a good dessert place somewhere in between both their workplaces to sit back and relax. They had enjoyed their time there and managed to fill their bellies full of ice cream and cakes to their heart’s content and their stomach’s suffering.

“Yes, honey?”

Jimin narrowed his eyes sharply at him, flinging the tiny package in his direction. “Don’t honey me.”

“Jiminie—”

“Not that either.”

Taehyung pouted petulantly, “You’re being mean. And it’s our anniversary too.”

“It’s been four months, darling. When we’ve gotten past a year, then you can start breaking the rules. But for now, you live under my boyfriend umbrella so you have to follow what I tell you to do.”

In any other situation, Taehyung would find his being bossy a sexy trait. Jimin knew how to control himself in bed and knew even better how to control Taehyung just the way the both of them liked it. However, in that moment, all he wanted to do was throw a tantrum and toss that blasted thing into a flaming pit of fire.

“You’re mean,” Taehyung repeated like a child but popped open the lid again.

“Do you really want another hole in your teeth? I patched one up a month ago and you’re already pulling this shit again.”

“It sucks,” he whined, nuzzling his face into Jimin’s neck.

Jimin kept him at arm’s length and raised an eyebrow, “Don’t play with me, Tae. Do it.”

Releasing a sigh of surrender, Taehyung nodded solemnly and pulled it out. He cut off the floss with the cap and began to work at the gaps between his teeth, picking out everything he needed to keep it clean.

His boyfriend beamed proudly and cooed while pinching his cheek. “That’s my good boy. I’ll reward you good tonight, okay? You’ve kept your teeth clean after all.”

“Does that mean I get to suck your dick again?” Taehyung’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes, baby, yes it does.”

#bts #taehyung #jimin #vmin #vminweek2017 #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts fanfic #vmin scenarios #vmin fanfic #vmin fluff

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heebiejbies · 7 years

Text

Homme Fatal - Part Two

Characters: Yuta (With appearances from the rest of NCT minus the younger members)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, murder, strong language, etc.

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: I know what some of y’all are probably thinking. “Trix, it’s about dang time!” After almost one month after the first part was posted, here’s part two of Homme Fatal. (Read that first if you haven’t already.)

Homme Fatal - A fatal man

Over the next few hours she started realizing where she was, and over the next few days, she finally remembered everything that had happened. What she dreamed wasn’t a dream, but a memory that came as a dream. Yuta did do that, but he pulled his arm away from her head before he shot her in the head—hitting her lower back in the process. Seeing as no one there knew first aid, he left her at a hospital so she could be treated for the gunshot wound he had accidentally given her. From there, after realizing how mentally unstable she was, she was put in an institution so she could be closely monitored at all times.

“He… He ruined my life. I’m stuck here because of him… I’ll never be able to go back to normal…” In a session with her therapist, she became shockingly aware of her situation. She realized that, by him holding her hostage for all those months and making her witness all of those terrible crimes, he had forced her into a never-ending state of mania. Each night she had nightmares of him, nightmares of the things she witnessed, nightmares of each of the men that were part of her kidnapping.

“He ruined my life but… He cared about me? He would've killed me if he didn’t care about me, right?” She had a hard time explaining her feelings towards Yuta. She knew she hated him, she knew that he was evil incarnate. Despite that, though, she could still remember the fondness that he showed her. How he proclaimed his love to her, how he sometimes showed his care for her despite their situation. Her therapist brought up the aftermath of Stockholm Syndrome, and the fact that her mental state wasn’t in a normal state in the least to try and ease her thoughts. None of which made her feel better.

Jaeho and Jaewoo were avid visitors of hers. The first time they met back up with her left them dumbstruck. It was her third day in the hospital, and she had not yet seen a dentist to fix her teeth after what Johnny did to her. Her hair had thinned, her body weight nearly half of what it was the last time they saw her, she looked lifeless. She truly had become unrecognizable. She glanced up at them, her eyes void of any and all expression. They blamed themselves for not being more cautious of that man, maybe if they had been leerier of him she wouldn’t be in this position.

Yuta sat with Johnny and Sicheng in their old house. He sat sideways in a chair, his coat slung over the back of the chair leaving him in his crisp white button up and silk tie. They had ordered takeout and were busy devouring their meal like hungry wolves.

“The best part of this damn city is the take out, one hundred percent.” Yuta leaned over the table and grabbed some of Sicheng’s noodles with his chopstick, the younger man swatting him away in response. Sicheng had managed to salvage the last bit of joy in Yuta after he shot her. Ever since returning to the city, Yuta had been keeping an eye on her. He would disguise himself as a staff member so he could sneak in to see her. The first time he saw her, she was getting ready to go to the dentist to fix her teeth. He grimaced at the memory of Johnny ruining her flawless face, but he hoped that time would clear up her wounds and she would go back to how she appeared before.

Learning that they locked her up in a mental institution filled him with such indescribable rage. They were treating her as if she were insane, but she was far from that. He had brought out her true nature, he had brought out the real her. After hearing the things she spoke with her therapist about, he realized that he had done one good thing in keeping her—revealing her true personality. Countless nights he dreamed of them together once more, his partner in crime. A modern day Bonnie and Clyde if you will.

“Hey, Yuta!” Johnny threw an unknown object at his head to get his attention, “Are you thinking about that spoiled brat again?” Yuta scowled at him, everyone knew how obsessed he had become over her. The day he shot her, they thought they were in big trouble. Yuta had brought her into their hideout, she had blood seeping out from her backside and Yuta was inconsolable. He made Jaehyun drive him to the hospital, Johnny tagging along for damage control if need be.

“I will not kill her! She won’t betray me, she may not know it but she’s dedicated to me. She won’t betray us, now just keep your mouth shut!” Johnny had told Yuta to kill her numerous times in the car, the tension rising between the two made Jaehyun nervous. He had to pay attention to the road, but it was difficult to do so with two grown men screaming in the car with him.

“Yuta I don’t know why you’re so enthralled with her, she’s nothing but a-”

“You wouldn’t understand!” He had pulled his gun from its holster and aimed it Johnny’s head. Johnny’s glare did not falter, he seemed to be daring Yuta to shoot him. Yuta might have actually done it, but before he could the girl started coughing up blood. Yuta’s gun fell to the floorboard, he immediately hoisted her up into a sitting position and held a towel to her mouth to catch the blood. She had been fading in and out of consciousness since he shot her, and after coughing up blood she fell back unconscious.

“Step on it, Jaehyun!” Jaehyun did as he was told. They miraculously made it to the hospital without being in an accident or being pulled over. Yuta debated on if he should go in with her, he did this to her so he knew he should be the one to be there for her through whatever they have to do to heal her.

“You’re an idiot if you think you’re going in there! Do you want to go to jail? The first thing they will do is call the cops and you’ll be the prime suspect. Then, you’ll get all of us caught as well!” Johnny’s words hit him hard. He also had to think of himself and the guys, they were his family and he had to protect them as well.

“I’m so sorry to have done this to you. I’ll be back one day, I promise,” He kissed the top of her head, then he and Johnny took her body and laid it near the emergency room entrance. As they drove away, Yuta could see staff members running out to her and lifting her to lay her on a gurney. He watched her image get farther and farther away, before completely disappearing once out of sight of the hospital. “I promise, you will be mine again. I will make sure of it.”

“Is it wrong to have dark thoughts?” Her therapist noted that her mental state had started to decline even more. She spoke of murder and kidnapping, and cleansing the world of ‘those that were not worthy.’ He tried to reason with her that all of that was only her capture’s influence, but she shook her head. “I think… I may have always had these thoughts. They didn’t give me these thoughts, I saw those things but it was my choice as to how I interpreted them. They only hurt the bad people, they only targeted the bad people.”

“And what of you? Are you a bad person? Is your father a bad person? They targeted you as well you realize?” She thought about it, and she realized she never did find out just what in particular they wanted her father for. In her mind, she knew there had to be a reason. She always thought her father to be a good man, but thanks to her experience she began to question that.

“I don’t know, is he a bad person? I’m questioning that myself. He must have done something bad to have them target him. As for me, guilt by association?” She gave her therapist a look as if to provoke him. He had never heard her speak anything less than positive of her father, and now he grew worried for how much damage really had been done to her. He felt like a failure, like he didn’t try his hardest to save this her from her own mind. He felt defeated.

She had nightmares every night. Nightmares of the horror she witnessed, of the men she lived with for nearly a ten and a half months. She found solace in these nightmares, each one she had made her fears slowly fade away. She also had dreams of Yuta. The man whom she once loathed slowly turned into someone she yearned to be reconnected with. He was the only one who didn’t treat her as if she had lost her mind. He didn’t look at her apprehensively. He didn’t think she had gone insane. He was a figment of her imagination—a mere dream—but she knew that is how he truly felt about her. She had seen his face many times before disguised as doctors or nurses or even visitors, but she believed that those instances were only her mind wishing for him to come back.

Little did she know, all of those cases were Yuta. He had been keeping an eye on her, silently watching and waiting for the moment to take her back. With Taeyong’s blessing, he would officially make her part of their crew. He sat outside her therapist’s office and listened to see what they were talking about.

“I’ve come to the realization… I was better off with him. I was better off with Yuta and those other men.” Her therapist attempted to interject, but she stopped him before he could, “All of you treat me like I’m insane! I’m not insane! You try to make me think that I am, but I’m not! I know I’m not! This is the real me!”

“What? No, no one here thinks that. We are trying to help you!” Yuta snickered at her therapist’s pathetic attempts to reassure her. He had watched long enough to know that they were trying to make her believe that she was without a doubt insane, but Yuta knew better. He didn’t know it when he was first assigned to her, but she was very much something special. He was glad that he didn’t give her back to her father that day. Her father had been soiling her potential for too long, she needed Yuta in her life. It seemed like fate, he thought. He took back every thought he had about regretting getting her involved, he knew now that this was how things were supposed to turn out.

He and Johnny had amended their once broken relationship, Johnny now wanted to help him with getting her back. Yuta had kept each of them updated on her whereabouts and well-being, and after convincing them that she was on their side, they began planning. They called in two old friends of theirs—Doyoung and Ten—and they agreed to help with getting her out. Doyoung and Ten were the other two people in the woods watching the meeting with Mr. Lockhart. They had left the group two years before, but they closely kept their eye on the group.

Yuta, Sicheng, and Doyoung were in the institution. Yuta and Sicheng had knocked out two staff members and hid them in one of the storage closets. They situated their uniforms and exited to the hallway, making sure the coast would be clear for Doyoung.

“Alright, we are in position and ready to get the hell out of here once you have her.” Jaehyun and Taeyong sat in the woods nearby in the getaway vehicle.

“Our eyes and ears are ready.” Ten, Johnny, and Taeil were waiting in a van in an alley a half a block away from the institution, ready to reroute the signal from the security cameras and kill the alarm system, and also help if they needed more men. Ten also kept a close eye on Doyoung—who broke off from the other two insiders and was in place to cut the power—through the security cameras. “I’m ready as well.”

“Alright, guys, if this goes south I want you all to get away from here as fast as you can.” They had been planning this and scoping out the area for days. They knew exactly what to do and where to go, but Yuta had this unrecognizable fear of failure that had been born in him not too long before this.

“What did I tell you? We are not leaving you in there. You’re our brother, we got your back. If you and Sicheng get caught, we will be your backup and Doyoung will get her.” Ten and Taeil voiced their agreement, Doyoung following in suit.

“Can I just say something? I am so proud of you all. I haven’t seen us work together like this is so long. Ten, Doyoung, it’s nice to have you two back. I’d love to have you two back on my crew.” Taeyong became sentimental at the sight of every member of his crew working together like old times. Only he knew why Ten and Doyoung left to begin with, but clearly, now all of that was in the past. He mentally thanked this girl for bringing all of his men back together again.

“Alright, we are ready to go. Ten-”

“Yeah?”

“No,” Johnny sighed at the boy sitting next to him, “Not you, Ten. I was starting the countdown.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Anyways! As I was saying,” Johnny started the countdown.

“Ten”

Jaehyun and Taeyong exchanged glances, both sliding down in their seats and focusing in on the building through the trees.

“Eight.”

Ten and Taeil were ready to reroute the security cameras, and Johnny was ready to kill the alarm system.

“Six.”

Doyoung stood in the basement with a flashlight on the main power grid, ready to shut down power to the entire building.

“Four.”

Sicheng glanced over to Yuta who had a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. He could see that Yuta had bitten down hard on the inside of his cheek, probably drawing blood. He patted Yuta’s shoulder in reassurance.

“Two.”

Yuta smiled at Sicheng. They were on the floor below the one she was on, and once Doyoung cut the power and Johnny cut the alarm system, the building wouldn’t be able to go into lockdown so they could slip in and out with ease.

“Now!”

Doyoung cut the power immediately, then relied on Ten and Taeil to help him navigate his way back out of the building. He moved a large filing cabinet in front of the basement door just in case someone thought to come check the grid downstairs. Taeyong and Jaehyun kept an eye on the people that were filing out of the building in confusion, also keeping an eye out for Sicheng and Yuta.

On the inside, doctors, nurses, and patients alike had started panicking. The backup lights still worked without power, but they were not nearly bright enough to make it so people could see well. The sun was quickly setting as well, so the little outside light to help them wouldn’t stick around for much longer. They navigated through patients falling over one another, nurses trying to help them up, and doctors trying to control the situation and keep everyone calm.

They exited to the stairwell and went up one floor—the floor she was on. From here, Yuta had the way memorized. He would always take this path when he would come to see her, so even with the little amount of light, he could easily maneuver his way around. Her room was the ninth down on the right, and so far it seemed that no one was in her room but her.

The power going out didn’t phase her. If anything, she was annoyed at the fact that she could no longer see to read her book. She sighed and placed it on a table in the room, then laid back on her bed with her arms behind her head. She could hear people outside freaking out and leaving the building. ‘So melodramatic,’ She thought. She couldn’t see why patients and staff were making such a huge deal out of a simple power outage. Everyone exiting the building would only cause trouble, who knows what patients would sneak off or get lost. If anything, it would have been better to keep them all inside. Whatever they thought was going on probably wasn’t what was actually going on.

She heard one of the doctors calling for the rest of the patients to exit their rooms. With the power off, the locks on the door were no longer working so they could open their doors without needing a key card. She knew one of the doctors would check the rooms to make sure everyone got out alright. She sat up in her bed and waited, either for a doctor to come pull her out of her room or for the whole ordeal to be over, she wasn’t sure which.

Yuta and Sicheng finally made it to her door. Yuta grasped the door handle and then opened it. He shined a flashlight in her room so she could see her sitting figure. It took her a moment to realize who the two ‘doctors’ were in the room with her, but the eyes gave it away.

“You came for me,” She mused. He came over to her and sat down on the bed with her. He brought his hand to caress her cheek, in complete bliss now that they were face to face. “I promised you I would, didn’t I? I missed you so much, I never want you to be away from me for this long ever again.”

“Yuta, I hate to break up the happy reunion, but we need to get the hell out of here right now.” Sicheng brought Yuta back to reality. He pulled her body up to his and kissed her temple.

“Come on, we’re getting you out of here.” As the trio exited her room, they were shocked to see her therapist standing in the hallway. He took one look at the two men and knew that they were not staff members.

“Let go of her!” He attempted to grab her from Yuta’s grasp, but Sicheng pushed him down on the ground. They made it halfway down the hallway when her therapist called to her again, “Ms. Lockhart don’t go with those men, they’re no good! They deserve to be dead!”

“And you don’t?!” They could all hear her voice through their earpieces. She was loud enough to be heard even when she wasn’t wearing a mic on her. “The things you people do, the way you treat people, you’re the one who should be dead! You shut people up in here like animals and treat them as if they are insane and need to be fixed, and for what reason?! Because they think differently than you?! You’re worse than we are, you are the type of people that need to be cleansed from this world. Every last one of you!” She grabbed Sicheng’s gun from him and aimed it at her therapist. Her therapist moved back against the wall as she stormed over to his body. She had it aimed right between his eyes, her finger on the trigger ready to shoot.

“Don’t do this! This isn’t you! I know the real you, you’re not crazy! We were wrong, you are right, everything you think is how we should all think. We could learn a lot from you,” For a split second, her face softened and she lowered the gun, “Please don’t kill me!” With that sentence, all softness washed away from her face.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you?”

“Think about your father, what would he think?” She brought her hand to her chin and hummed, he really thought he had gotten through to her with those words and that he had secured his safety. However, that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“I don’t give a damn about what that repulsive man thinks!” She aimed the gun back at him and shot him in the head without hesitation. She watched his body fall to the ground, a trail of blood starting to drip out of the gunshot wound on his head. She couldn’t remove her gaze from his body, the first man she killed, her therapist, the one who tried to keep her from her real purpose in life. Yuta came over to her and took the gun from her hands and gave it back to Sicheng. He stood in front of her, she looked more beautiful to him now than ever before. She knew her purpose, she knew her and their purpose. She knew what they were all about, and at that moment she came to terms with this.

“You’re so perfect, I love you so much!” Yuta kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, “I’m so proud of you. Now, let’s go home.”

At the sound of a gunshot, staff members were running into the building to investigate. Luckily, the three were able to make it out with one last group of people exiting the hospital. The sun had fully set a few minutes before, so now all that could be seen was darkness and the light from flashlights doctors and nurses were using to aid them. The three snuck away from the group and into the woods, finding Jaehyun and Taeyong with the getaway car already running and ready to go.

With the three finally in the car, and Doyoung being in the van that held Ten, Taeil, and Johnny, they were ready to leave.

“Thanks, guys, you all have no idea how much this means to me.” As they got on the road back to their house, Yuta glanced over to see her peering out the window. The moon illuminated her face, for the first time in a long time Yuta could see content on her face. He ghosted his hand down her arm and held her hand tightly.

“I still can’t believe they put me in there… I’m not insane, I know I’m not. I just think differently now.” She admitting this to Yuta made him think about how betrayed she must have felt when her family and friends put her in that place—her father and Jaewoo and Jaeho especially.

“Hey, they don’t matter now. We would never do that to you.”

“Yuta’s right. We are your family now, we will never do something like that to you. We will keep you safe and protect you.” She looked to the rearview window to see Jaehyun smiling at her—dimples prominent. Taeyong, who she hadn’t known well at all, even nodded in agreement.

She took a moment to think about her predicament. She could faintly remember how those first few months with Yuta were. She could remember the terror, the fear of death that she felt on a daily basis. She also could remember how that all faded to black and was replaced with something else—fearlessness. To her, she knew that she found nothing wrong with what Yuta and his friends did. After seeing what they did time and time again, in her mind she knew that those people deserved what happened to them. Why she got involved in the first place no longer mattered to her, what mattered now was the future. She had a new-found sense of justice and righteousness.

One year later, they had moved far away from New York City. Far away from her past and the memories of her old life. She had settled into life with Taeyong’s crew well, she learned all of the ropes of the job and she fit in perfectly now. She came in handy and lately, they had a surplus of male targets and she made it easier to apprehend them.

She waited patiently for her target for the night. He had requested to meet in a public area, saying he had fears of being alone with strangers or something along those lines—not that she really paid attention to that part. They opted to meet outside of a pizzeria in the heart of the city, there would be enough people around to see if anything happened to him. She knew she had to get him into an isolated area, but she had learned enough about him to know that she would need to reel him in quickly for her to be able to do so.

Once they met up, they spent the night eating dinner and strolling around the city. Going in and out of random shops as they pleased. She talked him into going down a vacant side street, a side street where Yuta patiently awaited the two of them. This side street had no security cameras, and since no one really came down here at night there would be no witnesses. They were steps away from Yuta’s hiding spot when her target stopped at a storefront. She looked to see what he found more interesting than her and it was a news report. A news report about her father.

“Byron Lockhart was indicted today on nine counts of embezzlement and corporate fraud. Authorities also arrested Lockhart Industries’ Chief Operations Officer and Chief Financial Officer in connections to Mr. Lockhart’s crimes. Authorities are seizing all financial accounts of every executive under Lockhart Industries and a special task force has been assigned to review the integrity of the company. We will keep you updated as more information is available.” The camera cut to another news anchor, a picture of her appearing in the top corner of the screen. Her target grimaced at her picture, his head hanging down low and a sniffle could be heard.

“Are you alright?” She asked, she placed her hand on his shoulder and lifted his face up to hers.

“Oh yeah,” He wiped a tear from his cheek, “She’s just… An old friend and I really miss her.”

She looked at the TV screen to see the governor during an earlier press conference, “We have no new leads into the investigation at this time, but we will remain diligent. If anyone has any information, please call the number on your screen. We will not stop this search until she is found and brought home safely, that is a promise.”

“I’m so sorry about that.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rubbed his back, “I’m sure they will find her alive soon, Jaeho.” She held the hand of her old friend and pulled him along with her. They passed a lone man with his head down and a hat hiding his face. He showed his face to her briefly, then she winked at him as they walked by.

Johnny waited until she led Jaeho down the alley where Yuta hid before turning around and going in behind the two. Yuta held Jaeho’s limp body up in his arms and she opened the back of Jaehyun’s van to put him in. Johnny grabbed his feet and they lifted him into the back, shutting the doors behind them and getting in the van themselves.

“That’s some friend you got there, he didn’t even recognize you,” Johnny laughed and smacked her lightly on the shoulder. She turned around to look at the unconscious figure of her old friend. Of course, Johnny had a point. Jaeho, who had been her friend her entire life, had looked her in the eyes the entire night and didn’t recognize her. She assumed that the new her truly was unrecognizable, along with the minor changes to her appearance that she made.

“Hey, are you okay?” Yuta noticed her staring at the body, wondering if she perhaps was having a slight change of heart seeing as this boy was her friend at one point. “Are you thinking anything strange?”

“No, not at all,” She reassured him and laid her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her body against his. “His father played a role in covering up my father’s crimes, it won’t be long until authorities find out his connection to it. Until then, though, maybe having Jaeho will speed up the process.”

Yuta had finally explained to her why she was a target, she was a target because of the crimes her father had been committing for a year at the time of her first abduction. Yuta explained the situation to her in vivid detail, and she agreed that he had every right to take her. She knew it was guilt by association like she assumed. Now, after abandoning her criminal of a father and his business that was held up by lies and fraud, she was no longer guilty. She had severed her ties from that, and now she was out for vengeance. Vengeance, she thought, is the true way the world should be ruled. Regardless of who they were, if they soiled this world in any way they needed to be taken care of.

“We will lock him up in the basement and when he regains consciousness, we will begin. If he’s anything like you were, there will be one hell of a mess to clean up after I’m finished with him,” Johnny chuckled and bumped her shoulder. She watched them take Jaeho’s body down the stairs into the basement, the same basement she spent her first days in. She remembered those days. She remembered the way Johnny assaulted her, she could still taste the blood in her mouth and she could still feel the pain he caused her. However, it didn’t bother her, in fact, she found that she was very thankful to him.

“Are you alright?” Yuta could tell that she had something on her mind. Judging by the way she watched Johnny carry Jaeho to the basement, he assumed that something about this situation brought up old memories, “Are you mad at me for what I did to you?”

“What you did to me? Do you even know what you did to me?” Yuta looked at her in wonder, what had he really done to her?

“You showed me who I really am. Thanks to you, I know who I really am. The only thing I will ever be for that is thankful. The old me is dead and gone, she will never return. That ignorant girl will never be seen again. This whole experience stripped me of my fear and opened my eyes and made me truly see. See the world for how it really is, people for how they really are, and it showed me the way that things should be. I am also thankful that you allowed me to partake in the attempts to make this world a cleaner place.” She brought her hand to cup his chin, “Everything you’ve done has changed my life for the better, I can never repay you for all that you have done. This is all thanks to you.” She kissed the corner of his lips and left the kitchen. He stood there, amazed at what just happened. The person he just encountered truly was completely different than the girl he met so long ago. She had completely evolved into a different person, and he wondered if he played a role in doing this.

If this way of thinking had been planted deep in her, slowly metastasizing until she finally realized what she truly was, or if Yuta had truly driven her to the ends of all sanity and reason remain unknown. Who she once was had died long ago, and no one will truly know if Yuta is responsible. There is one thing that is for sure, though.

He truly is a fatal man.

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