#if i did this correctly then it should be a larger > smaller % from top to bottom but we'll see what happens

[rythyme]

if you've been to more than one, pick the one that's further down on the list. stopovers don't count unless you actually left the airport.

feel free to say how many / which ones you've been to in the tags!

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: “Do you like it?” Obi-wan asked. Ahsoka looked up at him in confusion. What was he talking about- “The tea,” he added and raised his own cup like a sign.

Or, Anakin is injured and Ahsoka spends some time with her Grandmaster.

The tea Obi-Wan pressed into her hands smelled familiar, like the one Anakin made for them after late shifts when they had only recently left Coruscant. It was a sweet tea, so sweet that Ahsoka didn't even need to put any sugar in it. Their kitchen – an expression that still made Ahsoka grin with happiness because she had a Master now and she was a Padawan, even after these first months – didn't have anything but tea and some instant noodles stocked. For some reason, Ahsoka wasn't allowed to heat them up for lunch, so they had to go down to the cafeteria to eat. Obi-Wan had said something about the noodles being important to Anakin, and Ahsoka hadn't asked after that. She was too sure she'd start to cry like a youngling if she thought any more about her Master, who was currently unconscious in the halls of healing, being looked over by various healers.

The mission had been supposed to be easy. Nobody should have gotten hurt.

Ahsoka sunk further into her chair, buried herself in her Master's oversized coat. It had been handed to her when they'd brought Anakin in and Ahsoka had kept it on since. She knew it was stupid, that she looked ridiculous, but she kept it on anyway because it smelled like him and therefore like home and peace.

So here she was now with her Grandmaster in their kitchen in an apartment she didn't even really have a room in yet because they hadn't had time to clear it out, drinking tea.

"Do you like it?" Obi-wan asked.

Ahsoka looked up at him in confusion. What was he talking about-

"The tea," he added and raised his own cup like a sign.

"Oh, yes," she replied, feeling stupid for not having understood. She wanted Obi-Wan to like her and think she was a suitable addition to their lineage. "It smells familiar to the one Anakin always makes."

"It's the very same," Obi-Wan replied. "It's the only tea the two of us like equally well, so we always drink it together."

"Oh." Ahsoka hadn't known that. It felt like something she should know about her Master, like allergies. Frantically, Ahsoka tried to remember whether she could recall any of Anakin's allergies; he had to have at least one, right? Before she could get any more worked up and leave Obi-Wan in this awkward silence, she forced herself to ask another question. "What's in it?"

"A few red berries and some other indigenous fruit from Naboo. It was the only tea offered on Naboo that didn't taste like it had been dosed in perfume," Obi-Wan said and pulled a face as if the tea from Naboo had genuinely offended him.

Ahsoka giggled, then quickly clasped her hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to laugh at her Grandmaster, but Obi-Wan only smiled good-naturedly.

"Why- when were you on Naboo together?"

She knew that Anakin enjoyed items coming from the planet and was quite knowledgeable about its culture. She had no idea why someone would have all theatre genre of Naboo's last century memorized, but as Anakin had proven on a long retcon mission, he could talk endlessly about them. At least all his cursing had made them more entertaining than her own literature classes at the Temple.

"Ah, that's a rather long story. You were…. Five when Anakin joined the Order, weren't you?"

Ahsoka wanted to protest, surely she had to have been younger, but she remembered the whispers and knew her Master's age. It was strange to think he was only a few years older than her. She thought it would have been more, it should have been more, but if she were any younger and he older, perhaps they wouldn't be Master and Padawan at all.

She nodded in confirmation and Obi-Wan continued on.

"Anakin and I spent a month together on Naboo before we returned to Coruscant and he officially became a part of the Order. The Naboo prefer their food to taste and smell a bit flowery, and neither of us was used to it. After a lot of bickering, we decided that it was the one brand we actually both enjoyed. It took us a while to figure out how to brew it correctly, but eventually, I learned and taught Anakin in turn."

That certainly sounded nice, domestic even, like a scene she had never seen before. She tried to imagine the two of them in their kitchen, Obi-Wan being younger without a beard and looking less exhausted while Anakin was even shorter than her, perhaps standing on a barstool of some kind so that he could reach the counter.

Obi-Wan brought his own cup to his lips and drunk from it, then he set the cup on the table again.

They didn't have a single matching set of teacups that they actually appeared to be using. There were a few tea sets in the cupboard, Ahsoka had seen those already, but they didn't look like they were actually in use. Instead, Anakin and Obi-Wan had a collection of cups with silly images, colorful prints, and sayings.

"Ahsoka, I know we didn't get to spend much time together yet, but if you'd like, and if you enjoy this tea, I would like to show you how to prepare it properly."

Hearing those words, Ahsoka perked up. "Really?"

Obi-Wan smiled kindly at her and set his cup on the table. "It's a bit of a tradition for us, figuring out how to make a particular tea and then going out to buy a new cup for it. I used to do it with my Master, and Anakin and I didn't collect so many different mugs for no reason. You don't have classes this afternoon, do you?"

Ahsoka shook her head. "No."

They had canceled her classes for the rest of the week. There was no need for her to go when she'd only worry about Anakin. She could, of course, but the healers had been very insistent that Ahsoka should figure out her own boundaries and act according to them.

She still kind of wanted to go to class, just to prove that something like her Master getting hurt didn't unsettle her too much, but she was also still glued to their kitchen chair, wrapped in his oversized coat.

"Then, if you want, we can go out in the city today and buy you a cup and a new brand of tea to try out."

It would do her good to go outside. "I'd like that."

The two of them finished their teapot, then Ahsoka returned to her room. They still hadn't finished setting it up and so was currently more the place she stuck her stuff as Anakin frantically tried to move his plants to another surface that was not already covered by them and miniaturize his droid workshop. Most of the time, she didn't even sleep in the bed that had been cramped in there. In the words of her Master, why should she sleep there when Obi-Wan's larger and more comfortable bed was right there. Or Anakin's when Anakin managed to drag himself only to the sofa or, already half-asleep, stumbled into Obi-Wan's room.

Once her Master was cleared from the halls, they were going to sort that out. Even if Obi-Wan didn't have any problems with her taking over his bed.

Ahsoka got dressed, changed into robes of her own size and slipped back into the main room. From there on it was a quick and easy trip to the shopping districts of Coruscant. Obi-Wan wistfully muttered something about "at least it's not the lower levels this time" that he didn't see fit to elaborate on and Ahsoka, therefore, chose to keep in mind for a later date.

The tea shop he led her to must be one he frequented more often because the owner greeted him with name and immediately showed him a selection he thought would be to Obi-Wan's liking. Ahsoka smelled the various fruity, spicy, and bitter tea selections and eventually picked one that Obi-Wan and she both agreed looked like the most interesting one. Apparently, the tea changed colors as it cooled down. They didn't stay long enough in the store to get a practical demonstration, but Ahsoka was still eager to see it. Mainly to see it in the new mug Obi-Wan had bought her. It was supposed to match the color of the liquid inside. It was ridiculous, but Ahsoka thought it was fun.

"We can make it for Anakin later," Obi-Wan said. "He is supposed to wake up this evening."

"Do you think he'd like that?"

"I think he would be very pleased to see how well his Padawan has conducted herself in his absence. And he always did like food that was a little extraordinary."

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly with the two walking through the smaller streets, visiting stores Ahsoka had never seen before, but who all apparently knew her quite well already. The number of times somebody addressed her with "Little Anakin's Padawan?" was quite astonishing.

By the time they returned to the Temple, it was already dark. Their first stop after deposing their new items in their rooms was the cafeteria. Dinner was, as always, a loud and cheerful affair. Groups of Initiates were running around the many tables, Padawans chatting to each other and Masters bragging about their students. She and Obi-Wan took a seat at a table a little closer to the edge where it was quieter, though even they weren't spared from the toddlers handing out sugary cupcakes that looked like somebody was trying to sell pure diabetes.

But how was Ahsoka supposed to resist when the tiny Nautolan with the huge eyes offered it to her? It wasn't like Obi-Wan could resist it either.

After they had finished dinner, they returned to their quarters, properly put away all they had bought, and set the new tea package on the kitchen table together with Ahsoka's mug.

"Alright," Obi-Wan said. "Let's see how hot the water needs to be and how long the tea needs to steep."

With gentle fingers, Obi-Wan began to put the tea leaves into filter bags and familiarized Ahsoka with it. He taught her how to properly pour tea and which brands were better with a little more or less sugar, which needed salt of all things, and about a hundred other different tidbits that she couldn't believe he just knew from the top of his head.

But all the work seemed to pay off as they had a teapot full of blue tea that was slowly turning violet.

"Well done," Obi-Wan praised her as he grabbed the teapot and a mug for himself.

Ahsoka took her own new one, though she had already decided that she'd let Anakin drink out of it this time, and took another for herself. Together they headed towards the halls of healing. They hadn't even entered them properly when Anakin's voice reached them.

"I am fine, Bant, I swear! I just want to see Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, promise I'll be back within twenty minutes- ten minutes!"

Just as Ahsoka and Obi-Wan waked around the corner, they saw Anakin attempting to climb out of his bed, bandages still wrapped around his head, and arguing with Bant. As soon as he saw them, his eyes lit up.

"Ahsoka! Obi-Wan, are you well?"

Ahsoka stared at Anakin, whole, healthy, and smiling, and reassured herself that he was real. Then in the fashion of a child, she threw herself at him, burying her head in his chest as she before had in his robes.

"Woah, woah, everything's alright, Ahsoka. I'm just fine, see?"

He patted her head almost a little awkwardly like he didn't know what to do with his hands, but Ahsoka didn't care.

He was fine, everything was alright.

"Anakin Skywalker, what are you doing? Get back into bed!"

Ahsoka slowly released Anakin from her embrace so that he could fall back on his bed. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and rolled his eyes at the Mon Calamari Jedi.

"Bant wants to keep me here overnight, even though I'm fine."

At this, he glared a little at Bant, though Ahsoka could tell his heart was not in it. If that were so, she knew Bant wouldn't be standing here much longer. As ridiculous as he looked right now, Ahsoka knew her Master could be quite terrifying if he wanted to.

"Don't act so much like a bratty Padawan, Anakin," Bant only commented. "Now sit down, rest, get well, and you can go back to your rooms tomorrow morning."

"Yes, yes," Anakin muttered and pulled the blanket back over his legs. Bant smiled at the three of them, then bid them good night as well.

"It's good to see you're causing trouble as always," Obi-Wan said and set the teapot on the table next to Anakin's bed so he could sit down on its edge. "Here I was worried it was something serious."

"Oh, you know me, Master. I always have to be a little dramatic. What tea is that?"

Anakin couldn't have changed the topic more obviously in favor of curiously examining the teapot.

"Master Obi-Wan and I went out shopping in the city today," Ahsoka spoke up and pushed her new mug into Anakin's hands before she saw down next to him. "We bought a new tea and it changes color and also a mug and-"

"Hey, Snips, slow down." 

Ahsoka shut up as Anakin raised his hands. Then, with an expression Ahsoka could only describe as pouty, her Master turned to Obi-Wan.

"You took my Padawan on her first tea run without me?" Anakin asked accusingly, pointing his finger at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan only sighed theatrically and poured some tea, by now a dark red color, into every cup. "Well, we can't all be heroes recovering from a deadly assault. I take it said hero doesn't want a cup then?"

Now Anakin was quick to hold out the cup Ahsoka had pressed into his hands. "No, I want to see what my Padawan picked out. Hurry up, Master."

Obi-Wan's following laughter was infectious. It was almost as loud and cheerful as Anakin's demands to be told everything of their trip in detail. Sitting next to him on the bed, covered by the heavy blanket and the warm tea in hand, Ahsoka could finally allow herself to relax fully.

[therewasatale]

for I have sinned

On Ao3. 

Summary:  Alucard likes to mess with other priests, not just with Anderson.

Note:  Maybe I'll write a second part. It's on your choice. Does anyone want a chapter two for this?

The morning sun's dazzling light shone through the window, the light was only amplified by the clean white wall. The shadows were forced to retreat into the corners of the room waiting for their time to come.

And yet it wasn’t the strength of the light that wake Father Anderson up, it was the warmth of the rays. He awoke with a pleasant sensation, or at least a much more pleasant one, than the one he had gone to sleep with.

He allowed himself to stretch lazily. His shoulders cracked with a satisfying sound, and they were soon followed by the joints of his legs. Finally, there was no burning sensation, aches, or throbbing inside him. He turned around carefully on the shaky bed. Every wound he got from last night's hunt were already healed thanks to his regeneration.

Reaching down carefully, he ran his fingers along the ragged edges of his cassocks. He found more than a couple bullet holes. On his trousers there was a dark, yet still distinctly red stain from dried blood. He had to get new clothes. Unfortunately, he was sure that he would not be able to change into anything else. His temporary accommodation, a smaller Catholic church housed a priest who was at least three heads smaller than him.

Luckily, the car will arrive soon, which will take him to the nearest plane. And there was always a change of clothes waiting for him on those. He just had to leave unobtrusively, as Maxwell used to say a long time ago, trying to be witty.

As he got out from the bed, he glanced out the window. There was a tidy little garden outside, it contained two chestnut trees. Thanks to being around late spring, they were full of white flowers. The priest remembered his home, where similar trees grew in the much larger garden of the orphanage. Those must be blooming by now too.

He missed his home, sooner or later he became homesick on every one of his missions. But there were things only he could do, and he always made sure he could return home again.

Closing his eyes, he slowly rubbed his face. It was time to leave.

Before heading out he took one last look outside. Beyond the ornately decorated fence, people walked the streets, focusing on their own thoughts, most of them looked at their phone. None of them suspected that there was a priest watching them, a priest who was officially declared dead 50 years ago. That was the same day he reborn, in a way.

Anderson was about to leave, but along the fence he saw a figure making his way towards the church, he was wearing a long red coat.

The priest froze in his movements.

The figure's footsteps slowed down a bit. His crimson eyes were clearly visible, as he looked not just at the church, but directly at him. Anderson felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck, but before he could do anything, the vampire walked away.

He knew full well that that damned vampire should have left the town long ago. He himself got back at the church at around three o'clock in the morning, after they finished off the vampire and almost finished off each other. Unfortunately, local police put an end to their deadly dance.

Anderson's hands trembled. That bloodsucker should have been with his master a long time ago.

It took a few moments for him to calmed down a bit. Whenever he was near the vampire, there was always a kind of tension in his blood. He didn’t know where it came from, but it helped him focus on the bloodsucker with each of his senses, so he relied on it more and more. And the mysterious tension rewarded him for it because he felt the movements of his nemesis grew more predictable with each time. Despite him thinking only a couple of months ago that he was just a monster fighting on instinct, he turned out to be so much more.

Adjusting his coat, he opened the door of his room. He got around the building, heading for the main entrance, taking bigger steps than necessary. The rays of the sun made the white paint shine as it towered over the ground. As he passed the wall, nearby laughter of children reached his ear. If he remembered correctly, the school belonging to the church was just a few blocks away. The spring sun continued to warm his dark coat, in other occasions he might have enjoyed this quiet morning.

The giant doors of the church were wide open. Approaching them was enough to feel the cool air flowing out from inside of the building. A chill ran down on his arm and he instinctively pulled his torn coat closer to himself. His footsteps echoed as he passed between the rows of benches.

"Morning." His throat felt dry, and he needed to swallow.

"Hm? Oh, good morning, Father Anderson...It's indeed a good morning. I mean the weather is lovely." Father Saw sat on the very first bench, his eyes fixed on the altar even as Anderson stepped beside him. "How did you sleep?" The man could not be more than 40. His thin, lean figure was clothed in priestly reverend. The black formal somehow made him look even thinner than he actually was. In his auburn hair one could already see a couple of graying hair.

"Good." The iscariot carried ran gaze throughout the building. Tidy, clean, welcoming, these words came to his mind. He found the place more than adequate. Father Saw kept the house of God and the flock of God in order. Anderson felt some satisfaction. He opened his mouth to speak again but the other man was faster.

"Tell me, Father Anderson. I don’t want to be indiscreet, but do you happen to know a tall man in a red coat? He looks to be around his mid-30s. Quiet a striking looking man with long black hair."

Anderson's body tensed up for the second time in the day. For a few moments, he could see the shape of the vampire and its glowing eyes clearly in front of him.

"Why are you asking?"

There was a brief silence in the church. The only thing that can be heard was the faint o laughter of children filtering through the walls. Then a bell rang in the distance, signaling the beginning of their class.

"Father Saw?"

The man cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, my thoughts wandered off a little." He turned his dark brown eyes towards Anderson for the first time, those eyes were hiding something. When he spoke again, his gaze turned towards the altar again. "Just out of curiosity. You could say that at least... The young man was here this morning, after the morning mass." Father Saw nodded, mostly to himself.

"What did he want?"

"Well, your friend-"

"He's not my friend."

"Oh, then, you partner, perhaps?"

"Not my partner either. Why did he come here? What did he want?"

"He came to the church to make a confession."

Anderson expected all sorts of answers, just not that. "Make a confession?"

"Oh yes."

"That bloodth-" He bit the sentence before it could be continued. "That bloody…man...came here? To confess?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say?"

Father Saw looked up at him tellingly. "It remains between us and the Lord. It's after all His business."

Anderson's mouth twitched a little, but he knew it wouldn’t be any use to insist. He forced himself to nod slowly.

"I see. The point is, I know that person. At least since last year. Sometimes we meet, I think the Lord sets him in my way as a test of sorts."

"Now-now, Father Anderson, remember that everything is going according to His plans." Father Saw smiled faintly.

Anderson raised his eyes towards the sky. This was undeniably so.

"He seemed like an interesting, person." Father Saw could clearly recall the image of the figure. He could see him passing between the last row of benches after stepping out of the booth. He smiled back at the priest, eyes that glistening crimson. It must have only been the trick of the light, that the priest assured himself again.

"So he confessed his sins. I would assume not all of them."

Fater Saw sighed slowly, not really knowing what to say. So, he did what he usually does when the situation becomes too awkward. He skirted around the topic and started on another.

"Well, he did a confession but first he asked about you. I think he was worried about you, Father Anderson."

He had to swallow a snort back and just nodded.

"He was worried about me, well, he didn't need to, the important thing is that he left and he won't return." Anderson muttered. The thought itself that a vampire dared to step into the house of God, was infuriating. And between two growls, he tried to ignore the tiny yet existing part of his self that was curious about what the vampire exactly confessed. "Anyway, thank you for allowing me to stay in the church. Now it's time for me to leave, if I'm not mistaken my car has already arrived."

Father Saw's let his shoulders sag a little. He hasn’t even noticed how tense they became during the morning.

"You're welcome, Father Anderson. Thank you for visiting to help us." Even if I don’t really know what was that you actually helped with. But the bloodstained trouser leg and the bullet-torned clothes were pretty convincing for me to not ask too many questions. Thought the younger priest. "Have a nice trip home, Father Anderson."

"Yes, thank you." The Iscariot glanced around the building once more. His eyes settled in the confessional booth for a moment. Then sinking deep into his thoughts and headed towards the main entrance.

 After Father Saw was left alone, he slowly rubbed his face and sighed deeply. He had eventful days behind him. First the child disappearances, then Father Anderson, whose arrival was announced only a day before by the bishop. Blood and injuries, and that man returned at dawn. And to top it off, that strange man and his confession.

He couldn't say anything because of his oath. Though it wasn't as if he had been able to say anything to Anderson anyway.

For years he had already listened to many kinds of secrets and sins and absolved many kinds of people. But there were still things that were able to shake and confuse him completely.

'Every time I see him my blood feels like fire, and I can't focus on anything else. He makes me feel things I forgot about a long time ago. '

Father Saw squeezed the bridge of his nose. It will be a long time before he could get rid of those memories. He could still hear the man's voice, which sounded so deep one could hardly believe it belonged to a mortal.

'I know it's bad, father. But I want to make him mine. I want to taste every part of his body and make him cry out from pleasure. And I want to make him beg for more and the best part is that I would give it to him. '

He didn't even know the man's name, nor did he know where he had come from and why and how a Catholic priest would associate with someone like him. What kind of people were those two? And how did they appear here as if out of nowhere. Even more importantly, did he want to know the answer?

He needed to get outside for a breath of fresh air. Decided Father Saw as he rose from the bench. He needed a change pf pace.

'Maybe one day, he will be mine, but until then I can only just watch and dream, father. Maybe it's a bad thing, but I can't change it. I just want him. '

He stood up a bit shakily and slowly crossed himself.

 The next day

 Anderson opened the door into the ornate office, inside everything seemed garish to him. He took a short glance towards the huge painting, taking up the entirety of one of the walls. Nothing has changed since he left. Part of him was a bit disappointed, he always hoped that Maxwell would one day realize that this opulence was tasteless and did nothing to help his work. He once tried to point this out, but his former disciple said the room was decorated like this for a long time. He also stated that the painting that Anderson despised the most, was a gift.

Now, sitting at his desk, the bishop ran his eyes down a sheet of paper and rubbed his forehead.

"Is everything all right, Father Anderson?"

"Yes, everything is all right." He replied succinctly as he walked closer to him. "Why did you call me, Maxwell?"

The bishop's mouth twitched a little. Almost every time he needed to remind Anderson to call him according to his rank. But for once he decided to overlook this.

"If everything went well, what is the reason for Father Saw submitting the request to the local bishop to be reassigned to another region?"

Anderson shrugged honestly, so Maxwell continued.

"This is the fourth time, Anderson. The fourth time you and that vampire will show up and within a few days the local priest request to be transferred." A sheet of paper was put into a smaller pile. Maxwell folded his hands into his lap and looked straight into his teacher's eyes, the priest stood his gaze.

"What do you mean, it's the fourth time?"

"For the fourth time. In two months. Even a Protestant would notice the fact that there is a pattern to this thing. I just want to know why the pattern exist so we can pay attention to it in the future."

"What did they say?"

Maxwell didn't even have to glance at the page. "Overall, they feel like they can't serve God enough in their current place. Their flock became too big, and they want to be in a quieter place." The bishop shook his head. "So? What can you tell me about these four cases? I know you finished the vampire, and I also know you ran into Hellsing's dog. But maybe something else happened too?" He slowly looked the man in front of him up and down.

Anderson glanced towards painting. The angels circled the saint in the middle, who reached towards the sky with an almost cathartic smile. In the bottom of the picture people were bathing in blood, their faces reflecting pure pain. The father could not stand this painting. The features of the figure in the middle, resembled Maxwell too much.

"Father Anderson?"

He answered after a moment's silence. "I don't know. I think they were just shaken by the deaths. They would not be the first or the last to ask for reassignment after a tragedy. Very few have to deal with literal monsters in their lives."

"Well, if I have to stand before the pope with that as an answer, so be it." Seeing Anderson's gaze, he lowered the self-sacrificing edge in his voice. "Thank you for visiting me. That would be it."

The priest glanced at the picture once again.

"You can go, Anderson."

"All right." He walked slowly towards the door, then turned back with his hand on the handle. "Sometimes get out of there, Maxwell. This place is," he continued after some thought. "You spend too much time indoors. And try to eat properly."

Maxwell couldn't hide his embarrassment, which made him feel warm at first and then anger mixed with some pride, but when he spoke, he tried to completely suppress the latter in his voice. "I'll think about it, Father. But I'm very busy these days, but I'll see what can I do."

The young man nodded slowly.

Anderson's mouth trembled, then he walked out of the office, leaving Maxwell behind. The bishop glanced at the painting and did not even notice the satisfied smile that appeared on his lips.

 For once, the basement was not in complete darkness. And this was also one of those rare occasions when the vampire didn’t spend all his time shut in there.

"If you had seen the face of that priest, Walter!" Alucard laughed sincerely, holding his glass towards the butler. "And his voice. It became just as high pitch as the others when they realized what we were going to talk about. Or what kind of sins they needed to absolve me from."

"I can only guess what kind of horror he had to go through thanks to you." He filled the glass of wine and then sipped a little from his own cup, with a small smile playing on his lips. "How many priests was blessed with the chance to gain insight into your worries?"

"This was the fourth." The vampire grinned contentedly. "I have almost forgotten how refreshing it can be when a man is freed from the burdens of his soul." He drank slowly from the wine. "A fraction of them at least."

"Refreshing? You mean fun." Walter glanced at him and crossed his legs. He was sitting across Alucard in a comfortable armchair that had been recently brought down into the basement.

"Combining the pleasant with the useful?"

The butler snorted and then chuckled under his nose. "I don't even want to know what exactly you said to that poor soul."

Alucard's grin widened, his eyes gleamed brightly as he remembered back to yesterday morning. Even now he could clearly recall the stuttering voice of the priest. He was just as shocked as the three others when he entered the confession booth. But he had to admit, so far all four had endured and none of them fled from him.

"I wonder where you got this idea from?" Walter shook his head with a smile.

"Actually, we owe it all to Anderson. He was the one who told me a few months ago, during one of our hunts, that a monster of my own kind would never be able to cleanse itself of its sins. Even if I apologized all my life."

"And of course, you took that as a challenge."

Alucard chuckled deeply. "I took it as a good advice, Walter, good a good advice from a good friend."

"A good friend, I see." He put his cup back on the tray.

"In the beginning, I just wanted to upset a priest. But since then, more and more new things have appeared in mind, and whenever I confess, I think it will be the last one. But it never is."

"Oh, I wonder why that is."

Alucard raised an eyebrow at the butler but received only a small chuckle in response.

"Either way, I'm glad you managed to get yourself something to occupy your time. Of course, in addition to constantly upsetting Anderson and provoking every meeting of you two into a battle."

"Not every meeting." Corrected it, a little maybe arbitrary, Alucard.

"Oh?" Walter chuckled as the vampire just snorted. "Still, try teaching Seras something more useful over time if possible."

"As soon as she starts consuming blood properly." Alucard waved it off. "What?" He raised an eyebrow as he caught the look in Walter's eye.

"Nothing." The butler shook his head and stood up picking up his tray. "But it's time for me to go, the dinner won't serve itself."

Alucard finished his glass, murmuring slightly. "Always on duty."

"Well, not everyone is lucky enough to have fun at work." Walter left the basement with a telling smile. "Have another nice night, Alucard."

"Hm," the vampire refilled his glass, then began to swirl it around slowly, watching the red liquid splash around the edge of it.

The passage of time was hard to tell inside the cellar, at least for an average person. Alucard could feel it without mistake when the day turned to night, or the breaking of dawn. However, he hasn’t really bothered with the passage of time since long ago. He could afford his thoughts to roam freely.

'Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.'

Alucard still had to laugh. He doesn't need forgiveness, hell, he would never ask for it. But what would he say if Anderson would offer him forgiveness? How would he react? How soon would he stab the bayonet through the wall of the confessional? Or what if he would just listen? And if he could sit through it all? After all, he is still a priest, a bloodthirsty, fiery, and fighting priest.

The vampire's eyes flared up with an even more vivid red. His excitement was similar to when he fought with Anderson, be it side by side or against each other.

He drank slowly from his glass.

Maybe...there could be a way.

He placed his empty glass on his desk. Then, he got up from his chair and walked through the walls into the garden. Outside, he looked up at the clear sky and smiled at the silvery light of the moon. It was really beautiful today, - The thought ran through his mind. -, almost as much as Anderson’s eyes when he is fighting.

He paused for a moment.

"Well," he chuckled deeply. It seemed that even his own thoughts could surprise him from time to time. Well, he had a lot to think about.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Of Fangs and Fright

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Now, being dead came with a few more complications than one might expect.

Or, well, being half dead, if you wanted to be less morbid.

Now, it wasn’t all bad. There were the cool powers. Like invisibility, flying, possession, phasing through objects, being able to convincingly look sicker than a zombie…

Anyway.

Many of these powers ghosts shared in common. So long they weren’t ghosts flickering out of existence, they possessed (heh, ghost joke) these abilities. However, simple powers weren’t the only thing ghosts shared in common.

All ghosts had some green on them, it was their ectoplasm. They all had a core of their powers, and all sentient ghosts had at least one obsession. Plus a couple of smaller traits, mostly physical.

Also, they all had fangs.

Luz had to find that out the hard way.

,

A loud beeping noise woke Luz from her slumber, jerking her awake as she fell off her bed. The girl groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of her head as she blindly reached for her clock on the bed stand and turned off the alarm.

“Ow,” She whined, feeling that she’d bitten her tongue in her fall. She felt around her mouth a bit, tasting blood until something made her pause.

She gently poked her tongue around the top of her mouth, and sure enough, two teeth felt...sharper.

It pricked the tip of her tongue again and Luz grumbled, pulling herself to her feet. She figured her teeth had just gotten a bit too sharp from some wear and tear. It’s not like she was averse to biting into some weird-tasting ghosts and objects. Don’t ask.

She stepped into the bathroom and paused, looking into her mirror. It always unnerved her to look into a mirror. The dark circles around her eyes, the way she slouched, the dullness to her skin, all of it. None of it was inherently creepy, but it somehow worked. To Luz, and everyone around her, something about her seemed off. Like she was floating through the motions and was not at all there and maybe never was.

Luz shook off the existential horror of wondering if she’d be unnerving for the rest of her life and stood in front of the sink, yawning.

She froze, her mouth still hanging open.

There, resting in her mouth, were two sharp teeth.

They weren’t remarkably noticeable, in fact if she wasn’t looking for little odd things about her every other day (learning ghostly things about yourself in the middle of a fight was not fun) she never would’ve realized. But she was sure her canines weren’t that pointy before. She leaned forward, curling her lip as she inspected her teeth.

Her tongue had ceased bleeding, it was only a small mark anyway. And she could see flecks of blood still on her left tooth. She shuttered and pulled back, closing her mouth.

This was fine. A bit of sharpness to her teeth was fine. It couldn’t be all that bad.

,

Three days later, hunched over in her bed with an ice pack pressed to her face, Luz realized, with much regret, that she had jinxed herself.

Her teeth ached. It felt like her gums were being pushed apart from the inside, which, come to think of it, they probably were.

“Show me again,” Willow said, sitting on the bed beside Luz.

Luz sighed and took the ice away and opened her mouth. Willow squinted at her teeth for a moment before stepping back onto the floor, where Gus had a bunch of papers spread about in a weird sort of discussion board.

Luz put ice back over her mouth and watched as Willow muttered under her breath and picked up a picture of one of the ghosts, Adegast, if Luz remembered correctly, and inspected it.

“I really think this is just a regular ghost thing,” Willow said after a moment, showing the picture to Luz. “Every other ghost you’ve fought has some kind of fangs, it's not that big of a stretch to say you’d get some, too.”

“And normally, I would agree,” Luz said, wincing and holding the pack tighter. “Fangs are cool. But not when I’m human!” She exclaimed. “Er, in my human form, I guess. Is that what it's called?” She hummed, staring off in thought.

“Well, you may get lucky,” Gus piped up, taking the picture of Adegast trying to attack the camera and bringing up smaller ghost pictures. “They may just look a little abnormally sharp and that would be the end of it. There are plenty of people who have sharper canines, not everyone's teeth are flat.”

Lux relaxed with a sigh, leaning forward as she crossed her legs.

“But there’s also a possibility you could end up with teeth as long as fingers,” He said, bringing up a picture of a ghost with teeth like a saber tooth tiger.

Luz stared at the picture for a moment before groaning and falling back onto her bed. She grabbed her pillow and covered her face with it, ice pack discarded at her side.

Willow lightly smacked the back of Gus’s head.

“I’m sure it won’t get that noticeable,” Willow assured her. “Aren’t Eda’s natural teeth normal looking?”

“They’re still a bit sharp,” Luz muffled around her pillow. “The gold tooth is, and I quote, a ‘misdirection.’ Like a magician's cute assistant, you know?”

“No idea how that works, but I think I get it.” Gus nodded.

“Well, it’s not like suddenly getting pointy teeth is an immediate correlation for being a ghost, or even Phantom.” Willow insisted. “Worst case scenario, everyone thinks you're becoming a vampire, which actually would be pretty normal at this point.”

“Please be aware there is a group of goths in this school,” Luz said, tossing the pillow aside and sitting up. “And Jerbo is convinced I’m a ghost. Even if nobody believes him, people are going to ask questions about the fangs, and I’m a terrible liar! You know this!”

“I mean, you managed to hide your Phantom,” Gus pointed out.

“That’s because everyone in this town is a moron.” Willow deadpanned.

“Okay, but you have to put this into perspective. Half-ghosts aren’t a commonly known or expected thing.” Gus reminded, pushing his pictures into a pile.

“Neither are regular ghosts! Or werewolves! Or talking bone dogs! And yet, people notice that! Or at least recognize it's not normal,” Willow exclaimed, exasperated. “And only Jerbo has noticed something is off with Luz.”

“I was already pretty weird,” Luz offered, flinching and rubbing at her cheek.

“I can’t win,” Willow sighed, her shoulders sagging.

“This was never a winning situation for anyone,” Luz said matter-of-factly. “Now somebody give me the nail filer on my desk.”

“Do not file down your teeth! Why am I even telling you that?”

,

“My tongue is going to be so scarred--ow,”

“Maybe refrain from talking?” Willow advised gently as Luz stuck on her tongue, revealing it was lightly bleeding after she had accidentally bitten it. Again.

It had barely been a week and Luz’s growing-in fangs were proving to be more trouble than they were worth. If they were worth anything at all.

They had gotten larger, not to a scary degree, but were certainly abnormal. And she’d even begun to get two small fangs on her lower jaw,

And maybe talking about this in the school hallways wasn’t the best idea. But the group wasn’t known for their intelligence, and Willow was fried.

“Well, either her tongue will get stronger or she’ll learn how to not bite her tongue,” Gus shrugged as Luz shut her locker. “Eda managed.”

“Eda is three decades older than--ow,” Luz whined, covering her hand with ther mouth.

“What did I just say?” Willow sighed.

“Hey, four eyes!”

The group recognized that voice, and you could physically see them deflate as Luz dropped her hand. Willow sighed and mentally prepared herself.

“Here we go again,”

The sound of snickering drew their attention, to where Boscha and her A-Listers, or whatever they called themselves, was passing right by them, smug smiles plastered to their faces. Well, aside from Amity, who looked a mix between bored and mildly concerned. She caught Luz’s eye and smiled ever so slightly.

“Heard a ghost wrecked your pretty little garden recently,” Boscha said, her eyes narrowing in that sadistically gleeful way. “Aren’t you lucky Phantom decided to grace you, huh?”

Luz visibly cringed at that, giving Willow a guilty look. She’d insisted she could help Willow replant that garden, but she had declined. Numerous times.

“Things happen,” Willow shrugged, turning away and checking over her books boredly. “At least I don’t lie about seeing Phantom every other week.”

Luz and Gus glanced at each other with shared concerned looks. They subtly backed off a bit, deciding they’d rather not get involved in the weekly brawl.

“You wanna speak up, fern girl?” Boscha growled, already beginning to take a step forward.

“Leave her, Boscha.” 

Amity broke from the group and put a hand on the girl's shoulder, lightly holding her back as she looked at her with a half-lidded expression.

“She’s not worth the energy. We have class soon.” She said calmly.

Boscha muttered and stepped back, shrugging off Amity. The rest of the group quickly stepped aside as Boscha stormed through, throwing a ‘you’ll be sorry!’ over her shoulder for good measure.

“I’m gonna bite her,” Luz muttered under her breath.

“You have no idea how much it pains me to tell you no,” Willow replied.

“Sorry about that,” Amity mumbled, suddenly appearing in front of the trio. Or maybe she was always there, Luz couldn’t remember. 

“We’re used to it,” Gus said simply. “Honestly, I was expecting a better insult than ‘fern girl.’”

“Yeah, she's off her game,” Amity agreed as Luz giggled. 

“One could say she’s…off her A game--” Luz winced, bringing her hand back up to her face.

“Boo, bad joke.” Gus shook his head distastefully.

“Are you alright?” Amity asked, frowning at Luz holding her hand up.

“Yeah! Yeah, just, uh,” Luz chose her words carefully and slowly as she quickly pulled her hand away and crossed her arms. “Bit my tongue is all,”

“We should head to class,” Willow cut in quickly, appearing next to Luz and grabbing her arm. “Like you said, it’s going to start soon and lord knows how bad our grades are already.”

“Oh, right!” Amity shook her head like she was clearing it. “I’ll see you later, guys.”

“Yeah, bye,” Luz echoed, giving a smile as Willow tugged her away.

Amity watched the three leave with a smile of her own for a moment before her eyes dipped for a moment on Luz. Her eyes widened and she did a double-take, a moment of concerned horror flashing on her features.

Luz, having a guess on what she noticed, suddenly picked up speed and darted around the hallway corner, accidentally yanking Willow with her.

“Whoa, whoa, what happened--”

“How do my teeth look?” Luz cut off Gus, opening her mouth wide. “Do they look worse?”

Willow and Gus recoiled slightly, minorly concerned as Luz worriedly shut her mouth again.

“You have...blood on your teeth,” Willow said carefully. “It, uh, kinda makes you look like…”

“A vampire,” Gus finished for her, unhelpfully.

Luz was about to poke at her teeth with her tongue, but thought better of it. She rubbed a finger instead at one of her fangs and drew it back, noticing that there was, indeed, blood on them.

“I’m going to die of blood loss at this point,” Luz groaned.

“Can you even die again--”

“Not in the mood for an existential crisis, Gus.”

,

“What, no witty comeback, Phantom?”

The halfa yelped as Roselle’s snarky remark was enunciated by Dottie slamming her against a building. She growled and curled her lips back, shaking the rubble off her as she rose into the air, her green eyes flashing.

Roselle’s smug look fell. Normally Phantom would be happy to see that, but typically that smug expression isn’t replaced by that of gleeful surprise.

“Phantom,” Roselle grinned, and even Dottie paused for a moment to see what her partner was pointing at.

“Don’t,”

“Phantom are you growing your baby fangs?”

“They sure don’t feel like baby--ow,” Phantom winced, sticking out her tongue as she bit it for the umpteenth time.

“Aw, wittle Phantom got her baby fangs.” Roselle cooed

“How cute!” Dottie agreed as Roselle placed her hand on her shoulder.

“I liked you better when you were trying to rip me apart,” Phantom huffed, her face glowing with blush as she crossed her arms and legs, hovering in the air.

“A word of advice,” Roselle said sweetly. “Mouthguards do wonders, if you can find one to steal. Pain medication still works on you, right?”

“Yes, yes, thank you for the words of wisdom, granny.” Phantom grumbled, giving the ghost a glare and a sneer. “Can I go back to--” Phantom flinched, fangs pricking her tongue again.

The teasing grins on both of the ghostly womens faces only widened and Phantom sharpened her glare, electricity sparking through her.

“Can we fight now?” Phantom drawled out slowly, as to avoid biting her tongue again.

“Right, yes, of course,” Dottie said, nodding as she waved her hand. “Where were we, dear?” She turned to Roselle.

“I believe you were trying to throw her into a stop sign?” Roselle hummed, tapping her chin and frowning. “Or was it a pipe? One of the two.”

Phantom rolled her eyes at the two conversing and uncrossed her arms, a ball of green lightning slowly forming above her open left palm.

“No, no, I think you were--”

Lightning crackled and shot right between the two ghosts, striking the wall of an old building behind them.

They slowly looked at the indent on the wall. Then, just as slowly, they looked back at Phantom, who had landed on the ground and was in a fighting stance, another ball of electricity already building up.

“I think I remember where,” Phantom paused and curled her lip again at the pain. She threw her hands in the air. “Or for the love of--”

The lightning flew from her hands, hitting the street a good ways behind her. It exploded and shook the ground, setting off a few car alarms.

Phantom visibly shrinked at the explosion, her shoulders tense.

Dottie opened her mouth, about to say something. Phantom raised her hand quickly and silenced her.

“Not a word,”

,

“Kid, I don’t know what to tell ya. This is pretty natural for ghosts,”

“It is ruining my life.”

“Your dead,”

“Eda,”

“Right, right,” Eda raised her hands, stepping away from the couch Luz was dramatically laying across on her back. “Existential crisis and whatnot, my bad.”

“I’m wearing a mouthguard,” Luz growled, though it came out like a lisp. “I look like a werewolf.”

“So do I,” Eda reminded her, sitting on the end of the couch where Luz’s feet were. “And I’m doing great.” She said, curling her upper lip and flashing her non-gold fang, which was nearly as long as her golden one. The only difference was that the gold fang was crooked and hooked out of her mouth.

“You live in a shed by an abandoned brewery,” Luz lifted her hands, gesturing to the Owl House, as Eda liked to call it. “With all due respect, I wouldn’t call this the lap of luxury.”

“Eh, who needs luxury?” Eda shrugged.

“Yeesh, you give the kid a taste of the other side and suddenly your scoundrels,” King muffled, poking his head out from under the couch.

“I have been to Amity’s house once.” Luz hissed, snapping her jaws shut when she realized it came out as an actual hiss.

“Aw, now that was adorable.”

“Shut up,”

“Wait, hang on, I was talking about that time you spent in the Guys in White’s fancy van you’ve been to Amity’s house?” King whirled around, staring up at Luz in surprise.

“...I’m suddenly deaf,” Luz lisped, her voice slurred as she lay her head back against the couch armrest. “Words? I don’t know them.”

“You got into a rich girls house and you didn’t steal anything?” Eda gasped, placing a hand on her chest. “I’ve never been more betrayed in my life.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” King deadpanned.

“I’m not stealing from Amity!” Luz gasped, glaring across the couch. “She’s my friend! Go steal from her parents yourself,”

“I was given permission!” King pumped a fist in the air. Paw? Claw? Whatever you call the hands of a ghost dog with opposable thumbs.

“Now, now,” Eda grabbed King by the scruff before Luz could protest, pulling him up and holding him like that. “Be nice. Luz has to make a good impression on her crush. You don’t get a rich girl every day, you know.”

“Crush?” Luz yelped, jerking up so violently she shocked herself with her own stray lightning and fell off the couch with a thud.

“Oh right,” Eda snapped her fingers. “That’s another topic I’m not supposed to mention.” She grinned knowingly, dropping King on Luz.

Luz doubled over when King landed on her stomach, wheezing. King just looked up at her curiously before Luz lifted her head, her freckles beginning to glow green as electricity sparked around them.

“I do not have a crush on Amity! I tell you this all the time!” Luz exclaimed, feeling her face and grumbling when she was shocked again. “And now I lost my mouthguard,” She muttered, looking around for where it fell out.

Eda and King glanced at each other, mirroring the same disbelieving tired faces. But they didn’t say anything as Luz picked up King and set him aside, looking for where she spat out the mouthguard.

“Alright, we’ll drop that obvious lie for now,” Eda relented, walking up beside Luz and putting a hand on her shoulder. “But wearing a mouthguard is only gonna do so much. Sure, it’s nice to wear every now and again, but the more you get used to talking and eating with these ol’ pointers, the easier it’ll get for you.”

“But I’m a fast talker,” Luz protested. “Even if I get used to talking normally, I’m still not used to talking fast. And then I just keep on talking, and talking, and then I keep biting my tongue and then I start bleeding and--ow!” She yelped, recoiling mid-talk.

“Bit it again?”

Luz whined dramatically and turned, thunking her head against Eda’s chest. Eda stared at her for a moment before sighing and smiling as she rested a hand over Luz’s back and head.

“I know it's not fun, but that's just how life, er, this limbo we’re in is gonna be.” She said, patting her back.

“Pros and cons,” Luz muffled into her chest. “Pros, ghost things. Cons, ghost things.” She said, her words slow but enunciated.

“Welcome to my world, kiddo.” Eda chuckled.

“You don’t even fight--” Luz hissed, scrunching up her face before continuing. “--other ghosts,”

“No, but they’re still annoying.” Eda agreed.

“Oh, hey, I found the mouth thing!”

“King you better spit that out!”

,

In hindsight, sticking to the bottom of the Witch Hunter’s hoverboard, aka, a young ghost hunter known for not liking her, was probably not the smartest idea.

Then again, Phantom’s plans are pretty hit-or-miss.

Phantom crawled up the bottom of the hoverboard, peeking up. The dark purple coloring of the Witch Hunter’s suit nearly blended in with the night sky above her, and she clearly wasn’t paying attention.

With a mischievous grin, Phantom slowly gripped the front end of the board and leaned up, laying her chin on the end.

“Hey,”

The Witch Hunter yelped, whirling her head down as the hoverboard skidded to a stop. Phantom wasn’t prepared for that and went flying out from underneath the board, hitting the flat roof of a building and rolling right off the edge. 

But hey, at least the metal trash cans broke her fall.

Phantom groaned, attempting to peel herself out of the trash bags and pulling a banana peel off her head in disgust. She heard a snort and looked up.

The Witch Hunter was crouched on the edge of the roof, peering over. The black plastic screen over her face on the suit hid her expression, but Phantom just knew she was trying not to laugh.

“Alright, so maybe I deserved that,” Phantom relented, kicking away the last of the trash and floating up.

The Witch Hunter quickly leaned back as Phantom placed her hands on the edge of the roof, leaning on it slightly as the rest of her body was suspended by nothing in the air.

“But still, you gotta get better at noticing when I’m around.” Phantom chuckled with a grin, shaking her head.

In a flash, an ectogun was being pointed at her face, right between her eyes.

Phantom’s face dropped slightly, her eyes crossing as she looked down the barrel of the gun. Her eyes then went back to the Witch Hunter, who was still on her knees, but holding the ectogun in a way that said she wasn’t afraid to use it.

“I can never have a single moment of fun with you, can I?” Phantom sighed.

“And yet, you still succeed.” The Witch Hunter said, putting a finger on the trigger.

“I appreciate you trying to put a stop to that. You took the job everybody wanted but nobody was brave enough to try as diligently. Bravo,” Phantom nodded solemnly.

“I wish you luck,” She blinked, a smirk growing.

The Witch Hunter stared at her for a moment. Then another. She glanced around slowly before looking back to Phantom, who was still in the same position as before.

“Okay, two things,” The Witch Hunter said. “One, what am I waiting for?”

“What?” Phantom looked down at herself, inspecting her hand.

“Oh,” She deflated, looking back up to the Witch Hunter sheepishly. “I still haven’t mastered the whole ‘invisibility on command’ thing.”

“...I genuinely can’t tell if your stupid or bad at planning,” The Witch Hunter said, sounding like she was rolling her eyes.

“Fifty fifty on that,” Phantom raised a hand and tilted it.

“Secondly, what is with your teeth?” The Witch Hunter said, leaning her head forward slightly. “Is everyone getting weird teeth today?”

“Oh come on!” Phantom groaned, throwing her head back. “I just forgot about them!”

“What?” The Witch Hunter lowered her ectogun slightly.

“It’s been an issue all week,” Phantom complained, swinging her legs over the side of the roof and sitting on the edge, crossing her legs. “I forget about the fangs, I can talk easier. But when I think about them, I--” She flinched, hissing as she felt a prick.

“...that’s what you're worried about right now?” The Witch Hunter said disbelievingly.

“I’m bad at picking my battles,” Phantom shrugged. “Anyway, you’ve cursed me. You owe me compensation.”

“The hell I do!”

“If there is a hell, I’ll be sure to inform them of your grievances,” Phantom waved her hand casually. “But on the plus side, I’m getting better at not biting my to--ow,” 

“You’re a ghost,” The Witch Hunter deadpanned, getting to her feet with a sigh. “Shouldn’t it be normal to have fangs? Why didn’t you have them before?”

“Well I’m sorry but I’m a little new to all this,” Phantom huffed, floating up in the air, her legs still crossed, as well as her arms.

The Witch Hunter paused, looking over the ghost. It was only then Phantom realized that she, a ghost, had stated she was new to being one.

Phantom wished she could see her expression. Not being able to tell what she looked like at that exact moment felt like a nightmare.

“Phantom, are you--”

The halfa darted forward, flying around the Witch Hunter at blinding speeds and proceeding to kick the ectogun out of her grasp, sending it sliding to the other side of the roof.

“Little slow today, aren’t we?” Phantom quickly recovered, suddenly popping up right in front of the Witch Hunter’s face with a wide grin, fangs exposed.

The Witch Hunter grunted as she grabbed a small ectoblade (they really needed to get more original with these names) from her suits belt and swung it at Phantom.

Phantom flew a few feet away, cackling. She landed by the ectogun and kicked it up with her foot, trying to catch it midair but fumbling with it for a few moments instead.

“Somebody ought to put a muzzle on you,” The Witch Hunter muttered, taking a step back towards her hoverboard, which lay on the ground a little ways away.

“Why?” Phantom grinned, tossing the ectogun somewhere off the roof where the Witch couldn’t get to it. “Scared I’m gonna bite you?” She taunted, holding her hands behind her back and leaning forward, though she still remained a few feet away.

The Witch Hunter made a noise that sounded close between a yelp and a gargle. Almost strangled as she nearly dropped her blade.

“Oh wait, actually,” Phantom frowned, looking at the ground for a moment. “Could I bite people? Or would that give them ghost powers?” She mumbled, looking at her hands. “Am I a vampire ghost?”

The ectoblade flew right by Phantom’s head, ruffling her hair. She stiffened as the blade managed to somehow embed itself into the roof behind her, just before it hit the edge.

Phantom raised her head, spotting the Witch Hunter grabbing what appeared to be a regular silver ball from her belt. She pressed a button on the ball, transforming it into a portable ectogun.

“...okay, that’s kinda cool.” Phantom admitted.

“You have five seconds,”

Phantom took the hint and in mere seconds, shot off. She dropped out of sight beyond the roof without a word.

The Witch Hunter sighed, relaxing her arm and sagging. She watched the place where Phantom had vanished for a few more moments before turning around.

And almost crashed face-first into bright, sparking green eyes.

“I almost--ow,” Phantom whined, sticking out her tongue as the Witch Hunter jumped back.

Phantom had somehow managed to silently float behind her and was hovering in the air, upside down and at eye-level with the young ghost hunter.

“I almost forgot,” Phantom said, her voice lisp-y as she kept the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth so as to avoid biting it again. As well as revealing its neon green color, and the fact it was beginning to become split like a snake.

Phantom probably didn’t realize that was happening yet.

Not that the Witch was looking.

“I will see you,” Phantom said, flipping over in the air so she was rightside up, slowly floating backwards. “On the fright side.” She said, winking and giving finger guns.

“Get out of here!” The Witch Hunter snapped, grabbing another silver ball from her belt and chucking it at the ghost.

Phantom yelped and got knocked in the head, complaining as she finally took off, down the streets of the town.

“I’m hilarious and you know it!” She called behind her.

“You are not!”

[one-boring-person]

I loved writing this idea, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Thanks for requesting @jawline-of-steel !💛💛

You Wanted To Talk To Me?

Edgar Frog x reader

Warnings: mentions of injury

A/N: this is heavily referenced to my other series, Only Traitors Consort With The Damned, which you can find on the masterlist.

Masterlist

"Man, just talk to her." Alan rolls his eyes as they stumble through the training course together, wet mud slicking their trousers and shirt fronts, hair and clothes soaked through from the pelting rain, bodies trembling from how hard they've been working.

"Talk to who?" Edgar responds, playing dumb as they throw themselves at a climbing wall, chests smashing painfully into the solid surface.

Neither if them speak for a minute as they haul themselves upwards, cresting the wall with some difficulty as their leaden arms struggle to hold their weight, their muscles screaming in protest, though they both manage it. From the top, the rest of the course is visible, a few other cadets just ahead of them, each of the pairs released from the starting point in "waves" so that they can be timed. Both of the boys sigh out audibly as they take in the view, not taking too much time as they swiftly climb to their feet and leap from the top, reaching for the heavy ropes hanging from a structure across from them, the rough material grazing their hands painfully as they slip down it a little. Ignoring the discomfort, they swing their legs in time with the momentum of the rope and kick off it, landing on a far platform, rolling as they land, ending up face first in yet more dirt, signifying the beginning of a net crawl.

"You know who I mean, Edgar. (Y/n)! You should talk to her." Alan manages to explain, voice strained from the exertion required to pull his body through thick mud.

"Why should I talk to her?" Edgar grits out, hands scrabbling frantically in the filth as he struggles to pull himself through this particular obstacle, glad to see the end if it not far out of sight.

"Because it's very obvious that you like her."

"I don't like her." The response is almost automatic, a reflex designed to protect his real feelings about their fellow trainee.

In truth, Edgar had had a crush on the girl for a good few months, having been interested in her as soon as he first laid eyes on her, nearly six months ago, when he and his brother signed up for the SRS. Neither of them had ever really thought about taking their vampire hunting that seriously, but this all changed when the dark-clad Soldiers converged on Santa Carla, their hometown, a couple of years ago, hunting down one of their own, who was seen as a traitor. The hooded men had come into the comic shop searching for some help, only to be confused by the Frog's zealous attitude and rough introduction to the supernatural side of the town, swiftly recognising potential in them. When their Hunt was over, the result of which they never found out, the men returned to the shop, offering to enlist them in the training program as soon as they turned the correct age, stating that the minimum age for joining the SRS is sixteen. Now at that age, the Frog brothers were quick to travel to New Orleans, where they found the headquarters and signed up, completing the theory section with flying colours before they moved onto the physically demanding practical side: hunting.

When they first started this stage, the two of them were easily overshadowed by some of the others in the group, despite already having four kills under their belts (so to speak), their smaller stature allowing some of the larger, physically stronger cadets to overtake them in the rankings, though it was much to their surprise when they found out one of the best was a girl named (Y/n). With a pretty much unknown backstory, the sixteen year old girl had shown up many of the other cadets, holding her own in many of the harder exercises, showing off her aptitude for shooting and fighting, flooring some of the most muscular rookies training with them with ease. It was no wonder Edgar developed a crush on her.

"Frog! I do hope you intend on moving soon, or you'll be stuck on clearing duty for a week!" A senior officer snaps at him from somewhere to his left, drawing him from his brief lapse into his head.

"Yes, ma'am!" He shouts back, knowing how they hate to be ignored.

"Get a move on!"

Gritting his teeth, Edgar follows his brother out onto the next stage - a variety of elevated logs providing bridges across a swampy areas of ground. In the pouring rain the logs have already become waterlogged, making them slippery and dangerous.

Approaching one, he leaps up and grabs the end of it, quickly heaving himself onto the narrow stretch of wood, catching his balance before he steadily steps along it, going with the incline as much as possible, biting his lip as his feet slip a little on the wood. Nearing the end of the log, he locates the closest one to it and jumps to it, landing shakily on the lifted end, repeating the process until he has safely crossed it, catching up to his brother as they run the last few kilometres across the marshy land, breathing heavily in the pouring rain. The finish line comes into view, the posts signifying its presence only just visible through the rain, the flags topping them slapping wetly against the poles they are attached to, concealing the familiar insignia of the SRS from view.

With one last push, Edgar and Alan throw themselves over the finish line, trying not to collapse in exhaustion as they quickly stretch out their stiffening muscles, neither of them saying a word until they've caught their breath back, going to stand with the other cadets who have already finished it.

"One hour, fourteen minutes and forty-three seconds. Not bad, Frogs, not bad." The drillmaster informs them as they get close, the two of them brightening up slightly at the sound of that; it's a new personal best.

"Nice one, you two." A familiar voice congratulates them, the two of them turning to find (Y/n) standing there, a genuine smile on her features, mud striping her cheeks like war paint, most likely the result of her team mate getting a little over-zealous on one of the obstacles.

"Thanks." Alan smiles back, looking to Edgar as he struggles to reply.

"Err, yeah, thanks, you did really well, too." He finally manages, blushing as he looks away, suddenly feeling very hot.

"Thank you." She acknowledges, making eye contact briefly before turning away, going back to her team mate.

"You're smitten." Alan rolls his eyes, looking over at his brother in exasperation.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Stop trying to hide it, Edgar, I'm your brother, I see all these things."

*

The drillmaster's words ring clearly in Edgar's head as he steps through the darkened corridors, making his way in and around broken furniture and piles of ceiling debris, his helmet limiting his vision greatly.

"Don't get caught off guard, or they'll have your ass for breakfast."

Of course, you'd hope that he was being metaphorical, but the cadets are all aware of one fact: he isn't. Not when they've all been tasked with clearing an abandoned hospital of the supernatural beings squatting there, particularly the wraithes and their carnivorous tendencies, most of which are to blame for the hospital's fall in the first place.

A piece of glass shattering behind him snaps him from his thoughts, the sound instilling a sense of fear into him as he slowly turns, freezing in place when he sees a shape in the hallway behind him. From where he is, he can't tell what it is, but he knows it won't hesitate to kill him, so he lifts the gun in his hands to shoulder level, cocking it gingerly, body shaking in fear. Aiming steadily, he let's the flashlight roam across the shape, only to let out a breath when he sees what, or rather who, it is.

"(Y/n)?!" He hisses out to her, surprised that she is in this part of the building.

"Edgar? Is that you?" Her voice floats back over to him, the cadet holding up a hand to shield her eyes from the bright light.

"Yeah, it's me. You found anything yet?" He responds, secretly pleased that she actually remembers his name.

"No. Have you?" She clarifies, coming over to him, her gun held comfortably over her abdomen as she stays prepared, ready to shoot anything dangerous.

"Not yet."

"That's good." She looks him in the eye, "I kinda wanted to talk to you, though this probably isn't the best time."

Edgar gazes at her, surprised at what she is saying, an eyebrow lifting under the visor of his protective helmet.

"You wanted to talk to me?" He asks, incredulous.

"Yeah, I do." She nods, looking away again, her fingers tapping nervously on the stock of the gun.

"What about?"

She is silent for a minute, before she takes a deep breath and responds, relaxing her shoulders as she tries to stay calm.

"I just wanted to tell you about how I feel about you. Edgar, I know this is weird because we don't really know each other, and you probably don't feel the same way, but I, well, I like you. A lot."

There is an awkward moment of quiet between us as he tries to figure out how to respond correctly.

"You...you like me?" He finally manages to ask, not quite believing what he heard before.

"Yeah, I do. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I just thought you should know." (Y/n) explains, going to move past him, before he stops her with a hand on her arm.

"(Y/n), I've had a crush on you for the longest time, I just didn't know how to tell you." He informs her, waiting for a reaction.

"...really?"

"Yeah. Just ask my brother, he figured it out pretty quickly."

She smiles beneath her visor, clearly much happier now that the initial worry is over.

"I'm glad. Maybe when we get some free time, we could go on a date?" She suggests, adjusting her grip on the weapon.

Edgar smiles back at her.

"I'd like that."

[twodragonsinatrenchcoat]

I will ask about hierarchies aLSO HERO ??? :0!!!

Your spelling is immaculate but yes, you did not read that correctly, I also did not capitalize correctly, but you're the one with the Herobrine brainrot so- (/lh ofc dfkjalsd;f)

ANYWAYS

Hierarchies >:3

In this other dimension separate from earth(The place the Guides and the like hail from) there's a hierarchy in terms of how things work.

At the top you've got the Rulers of the Dawn and the Dusk (There are always two, no specific gender for either ruler. Just, a pair of rulers keeping things civil.) They are immensely powerful, their Crowns and their staves/canes/whatevers give them magical abilities far beyond what your average citizen or lord would have. The Rulers are chosen by the rulers preceding them, and are often someone who acted as a lord previously.

Below them are the Lords. These are powerful people who are chosen by their respective rulers to aide said rulers(Whether that be with establishing and enforcing dimension-wide laws, or acting as a judge for some sort of larger legal matter, or spreading news to other towns.) Lords have a seniority hierarchy among themselves. With those who are older or having had served for longer being more widely respected and trusted.

Next are Barons, they preside over individual cities and towns. Acting as a mayor would and they often have some kind of council to deal with smaller disputes and issues in their areas.

And finally are just your average citizens. Many of which in our world would be referred to as "guides" should they team up with a human. These are creatures who aren't strong enough on their own to gain a proper title, but they're still much stronger than your average human.

and... that's about what I've got for the hierarchy stuff. :)

Any title can be contested, through combat or some other kind of duel should someone want to move forcibly up in the ranks.

[inquisitive-mess]

A Slice of Happiness Part 3

Including Sibylle of Cleves by @blackdiamondwrites127 and Katherine Tudor by @ellielovesdrawing.

Mention of Jane Paker by @altairtalisman

T/W: Hint of Past Trauma and Abuse

Sibylle and Ann soon reach a nice gated neighborhood after taking the Tube. Ann didn't realize how tall Sibylle was until they went on train where she saw how uncomfortable Sibylle was while sitting. Ann try her best to help her out, but there was only so much she can do inside train car. This made Ann feel bad because she usually takes this whenever she works late since she doesn't bring her vehicle often to work due to parking issues. Once they arrived at their stop and got off the train, Sibylle was finally free from her torment and stretch a little before walking out of the station as Ann trail behind her. Ann try to apologize, but Sibylle stop her before she can and told her that she chose to take the Underground known the consequence of it. She also explained that it would be whole lot cheaper than getting a ride from one of those ride sharing companies, where they have to pay extra to get a larger vehicle to accommodate her height and doesn't like them for to GPS reason and them knowing where she lived. Ann completely understand where Sibylle is coming from.

Sibylle soon walk to a stand that had a keypad on it near in front of the gate, punch in a codes, the gates doors begin opening, and both went through it as they head to her house. Ann look around the area as she was walking and started to thinking about how nice this place was. It was quiet and sees that everyone who was living here has some form of privacy. She really does like it, but she really prefers where she lives. It true it isn't gated neighborhood, but she likes the open space she has at her house because it's easier to look up at the sky at night and she has more privacy due to her neighbor's properties being a little far part from each other. They soon arrived at Sibylle's house and walk up to the door. Sibylle then pull out her keys, push one of the keys inside the keyhole to turn it, pull it out, turn the doorknob to open the door, and both walk inside the house. Ann closed the door behind her as Sibylle said " Babe, I'm home." A russian bear dog and a tibetan mastiff came running out and Sibylle kneel down to let them give her some affection. Ann was mostly surprised by the size of dogs because she hasn't dogs this big and wonder if this was normal. Sibylle soon got up and told her " This is Oz and Killjoy. These are our pets and part of the family. We have white cat too named Malky." Kath then came out from a room, head to Sibylle, and gave each other a kiss. Ann stood silent as she watch them and their love kind of remind her of the love she had with her husband long ago. They broke a way from each other and Kath talk " I'm glad you guys got here safely. I was going to say what took you guys when I remembered that took you to work today because your bike was giving you some trouble this morning and your friend told you when you took it his place that it isn't going to be ready until tomorrow. Did Ann drive you guys here or got a ride from someone?" Ann answer " I don't usually bring my vehicle to work, so we took the Tube. I pay for Siby ticket, since I have a travel card. It's the least I can do for what happen and to make up for making Sibylle endure the discomfort she had riding it." Sibylle then said " Which I already told you that it was my decision to take it and how I don't trust those ride sharing companies at all. Plus it wasn't too bad once you get in the right position and I dealt with worse." Kath smiled as she listened and told Ann " I got your change of clothes ready. Let me go get them while you put your dessert in the fridge." Kath leave them and Sibylle escort Ann to the kitchen with Oz and Killjoy following them.

Once Ann put her dessert in the fridge, Kath came back with couple of clothes in her hands, and told Ann as she hand them to her " I got you some shirts of mine to try on, since I didn't know which one would fit you and Ibby clothes would be too big on you." Ann nod and said " Thank you. Where is bathroom, so I can change?" Sibylle answer " Down the hall on your right." Ann heard Sibylle, nodded, and head to it. When she got there, she open the door to walk inside, turn on the light, and lock the door behind her. She place the shirts on the counter, start taking her jacket off, then her shirt, fold them, and place them on the other side of the counter. She went to sink, turn the bathroom faucet to release some water, and begin washing her face. Once she was done, she wipe her face on a towel to dry it and went on trying one of the shirts. The first shirt she try was too short for her making like she had a crop top on and was exposing her discoloration skin on her lower back area. She should of figure it would be difficult for her since Kath was lot smaller than her and wouldn't fit her properly. She took it off, place it on the side, and went on to the next shirt. Each shirt she tried on, she felt more nervous seeing each one of them not fitting her correctly and exposing her discoloration. She didn't want them to know about it because then they would ask questions and she don't want talk it, since it only brought back bad memories of her time in the orphanage and don't want them to see her breakdown completely. The reason Jane knows about it is due the rainstorm they got caught up in and knew Jane wasn't going to say anything about it being that they are in same boat with their guilt of the past. Ann was at the last shirt in the pile and this scared her the most seeing that she doesn't have anymore attempts to hide it. She slowly put it on and expecting it not to fit her when she saw it covered her body completely. She looked at herself in the mirror and move her body and arms around a bit to see if it will show any skin on her lower body area. When it didn't, she smile as her worries slowly dissolve, folded the other shirts that didn't fit, open the bathroom door, grab her clothes and others in each hand, turn off the light using her elbow, and walk out of it to head to where Sibylle and Kath was.

When Ann arrived at the sitting room, Sibylle just got done explaining to Kath what happened to them and why Ann was staying the night as they were sitting on the couch next to each with Oz and Killjoy laying on the floor. Kath said to Sibylle " That's crazy. I can't believe that happen to you guys. Thank goodness those officers were there to take that man away." Kath noticed Ann was done changing and said " Look like that shirt fit you perfectly. I had that shirt for awhile now and it was always too big for me to wear. I try giving to Ibby, but it was too tight for her. You have it since I'm not going wear it." Ann look down at her shirt and told Kath " Thanks" Kath then said " And I would to say thanks you for stopping the situation between Ibby and the older man. She told me that she would of hit him, if it had escalated and would of been arrested too. I would hate to see her lock up and be with other terrible people. Not saying she can't defend herself, because she know shit." Ann chuckle a little as she saw Kath got nervous at the end and Sibylle told her" Babe, Ann already know a bit of my past." Ann answer " And that was one of the reasons why I wanted to stopping it." Kath sighed out of relief thinking she may have exposed something about Sibylle's past she didn't want people to know about and was happy that Ann was okay with it. Kath knows how personal Sibylle gets whenever someone mentions her past choices and knew Sibylle was trying to be a better person.

Once they were done talking, Kath got up and ask them" Have you guys eat anything? I can whip up something really quick." Ann told Kath " No, it's okay. You don't need to do that. I ate something earlier before Siby came to my shop." It was kind of the truth since she did eat lunch, but that was roughly six hours ago. Ann was a little hungry, but she didn't want to bother them anymore than she already have. It bad enough that this whole evening Ann has cause nothing but trouble for Sibylle and now Kath. Sibylle already knew Ann was lying due to fact that she started to understand Ann personally and how defensive she can be. She also knew it isn't going to be easy to convince her to eat something. Kath used her obverseation skill as she look at Ann and saw all of signs that Ann was lying. She also notices that Ann seem to be the type who would put up a fight if asked directly, so she have to try a different way to persuade Ann. Kath smiled and said " Okay, but I'm going you make some anyway, since you are a guest in this house and not going let you eat nothing. Ibby can you show Ann the bedroom she going be sleeping in while I'm cooking something small for you guys." Ann was ready to protest when Sibylle already wrap one of her arm behind Ann and begin guiding her to the room. Sibylle told Ann as they were walking " Just to let you know, Kath can tell when someone is lying to her, so there no point on hiding it because you're not going to win this fight." Ann sighed softly when she heard this and Sibylle saw her reaction which she then said " And if you thinking that you are being a bother, you're not. We want you to eat and feel relaxed here especially what kind of day you had. Plus it would make Kath feel happy that she being a good hostess, since we don't get a lot of people visiting us." Ann heard all this and made her a little nervous about it.

They arrived at the room and Sibylle open the door to it, which was nice simple room with a bed, bedside table, table lamp, and small chest. Ann walking inside it and look around it see that she kind of like it while Sibylle lean on the side of the doorframe watching her. Sibylle then ask Ann " Do you want me put your clothes in the washing machine while you are here?" Ann shook her head and answer " Thanks for offer, but I can wait until I get home to wash them. You can get me a bag to put it in though and tell me where to place these clothes. You guys have done enough for me already." Sibylle nodded, grab the spare from Ann showing her that she will take care of it, left for a bit, and came back with a plastic bag to hand to Ann. Ann took it, open it up to place her shirt and jacket in, tie it up,and place her bagged clothes on table. Once Ann put the bag on the table, Ann ask " Siby" She turn her head to Sibylle and continue " Are you sure it's really okay for me to spend the night here? I would understand if you doing all this because you still believe that you owe me for the laptop and my injuries that you accidentally caused me." The truth was that Ann has been nervous the moment she got here. That why she trying so hard not accepting anything and hasn't said much because she's worry that she made do something wrong and they hate her for it. Ann also believes that the reason Sibylle is doing all this was because the debt Sibylle made for herself for Ann. Sibylle could see Ann uncertainty in her face and was ready to answer her when they heard Kath telling them dinner was ready. Sibylle walk up to Ann with a small smile and told her " Let's go. We don't want to keep Kath waiting." Sibylle soon walking away leaving Ann to herself which cause to think maybe that the reason why she was being generous to her. Ann soon follow and head to the kitchen. Unknown to Ann, what she had said to Sibylle in the room made her start to think about why Ann thought this and wonder if there was a reason behind it.

When Ann got the kitchen, Kath told Ann to go to table where Ibby was sitting at and she will serve them. Ann acknowledged, head to where Sibylle was, and sat down across from her. Ann wait patiently as wait for Kath while Sibylle looked at Ann thinking what she said to her and wonder if Ann really though that. It's true that Sibylle does want to repay back Ann for everything she done and for accidently decking her, but she also does want to be friends with her. Sibylle though she was doing everything right and was trying to be her friend, but after hearing what Ann said, Sibylle knew that there was a missing piece in this and she need figure out what it was. Kath soon came with the meal and place them in front of them. Kath smile and told them " Hope you like it. I want to do something simple since it is late at night." Ann took one look at the meal and everything inside her crash down. It was box macaroni and cheese and Ann didn't absolutely nothing, but stare at it as Sibylle thanking Kath and begin eating it as Kath left to clean up. This is the one meal in her adolescent life that she didn't think she would ever see again because all she can remember was her being all alone in the orphanage eating this when it was cold and mixed together with other foods that was left behind after the children had their meal. Her meals were made of the scrapes of whatever meal was prepared for the children that day. She wasn't allowed to saying anything about it because that resulted her losing the meal and be thrown away in front of her leaving her hungry all day or the evening. Ann try her very best not react to it when she saw this and wanted to eating it to make Kath happy, but the memories of the past was stopping her from doing that. Sibylle quickly notice this and try to call Ann out, but Ann got so deep in her memories that Sibylle got up, stretched her arm out, and place her hand on her shoulder, which snap Ann out of it. Ann look up at Sibylle once this happen and Sibylle asked " Are you alright?" Ann look down at her food for a bit before looking back up at Sibylle and answer her" Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry about that. The meal just bought back some memories, that all." Sibylle sat back down and was relieved that Ann was okay, but it make her wonder what just happen. She remembered Ann had a similar look when they went to zoo and when she was at her shop. It was when look their meal when something click in Sibylle's mind. Was it macaroni and cheese? Did something happen in Ann's past that was the result to it? Sibylle wasn't completely sure, but she did want to help her by easing her mind a little, so she can eat something and told her" Hey Ann, if you want something different. I'm sure Kath has no problem making it and I can eat this, so it doesn't go to waste."

As soon as Sibylle grab Ann's plate with her hand, Ann quickly grab Sibylle wrist with her hand, which caught Sibylle completely off guard, and said quietly as she let go of Sibylle's wrist slowly " Sorry" Ann quickly compose herself, so she can answer Sibylle. After calming herself, she replied "It's okay, Siby, I can eat this. No reason to bother Kath with some trivial." Ann soon pick up her utensil and begin eating her meal. It was bad as she remembered it, but can a least say it taste better warm than cold. Sibylle would of call out Ann for what just happen, but she took this as she may have overstepped Ann's boundaries when trying to take her food away from her without warning, which cause her to be defensive. She would done something similar, if someone did that to her. They both stay quietly as they ate their meal didn't know what to say to break the ice. Kath got done cleaning and went back to the table where Sibylle and Ann sitting only to see the death silent between them. Kath didn't know what happened when she was gone, but she need to do something to brighten up the mood. She sat next to Sibylle and ask Ann " Ibby told me that you own a small electronic shop where you fixed anything that's electronic and rebuild computers. That must be fun job to do." Both Ann and Sibylle can tell Kath was at least trying to lighten up the mood, so Ann answer " Yeah, it kind of is. I do enjoy fixing things and do custom order for my customers." Sibylle was little happy with Kath that this was working and started to make Ann feel comfortable. Kath continued " Ibby also told me that you were the one who made her current laptop. She used her laptop all the time and tell me how much she loved it, especially how you got her loved for Wicked." Ann scratch behind her head and try be humble since she not use to getting all of this compliments. Ann said " It was nothing. I just saw her old one was was on it last leg and want to help out. That all." Kath then said "And you must be smart considering that you help out the students and professors in surrounding universities and colleges with their needs. I bet your parents must be proud of you." This is where everything crashed completely and dim the mood heavily. Ann already finished with her meal got up from the table and said emotionless " I'm going head to bed. I got work in the morning. Thanks for everything." Ann begin walking away when Sibylle grab her wrist to stop her, but Ann just gave her a look, which Sibylle knew all to well, and she let go of her. Kath then try stopping Ann and try to convince her to stay, so she can apologize, but Sibylle stop her and told her that Ann need time to herself. Ann continue walking until she was the spare bedroom and closed the door behind.

Previous Next

[eleven-times-lively]

The Aftermath

In which reader and Fred process their recent separation. 💕

Summary: You and Fred just had a major fight, and no one knows what to do next. Word Count: 1824 Note: Sorry this is so short, loves! I really wanted to get Fred and reader’s reactions alone and in the spotlight, not lumped into another chapter. So really think of this as a mini bridge between the two parts.

“I want a divorce.” The words rang over and over again in your head. Deafeningly loud, consuming every thought and emotion as you could do nothing but just stand and stare. Blank. Empty. You were numb. No tears, not a scream or cry, just consuming emptiness as you stared ahead at the spot where your husband once stood. 

You went over and sat on the couch, attempting to process the fight that exploded just minutes ago. You let out a deep sigh as your face fell into your hands. You stayed there for a moment, beginning to shake. Reviewing the argument in your head brought back the emotions, but this time you were actually processing them. The tears began to stream down your face, but you weren’t sad, you were angry. Angry at yourself, angry at Fred, angry at every little thing that the two of you ignored for eleven years. Angry you hadn’t done something sooner. And now you’d lost him. You stood up with purpose, but then realised you had none. All you could manage to do was scream. At the top of your lungs. Loud, invasive, bruising. So scream you did. So many times you felt like you could explode, but it felt good. Every unspoken word, every unfelt emotion, every ignored issue, went out with each and every breath. Some screams were cut off by sobs, some thick with tears. Sometime you wanted to pick up the nearest object and throw it into the wall, sometimes you wanted to go stand outside in the snow and scream into the universe. Or maybe to let the cold consume you. Just to feel numb, like nothing matters and nothing ever will. After what felt like years, you were finally calm. Or at least some semblance of the sort. You managed to take a few deep breaths and stand still for the first time, all without crying. You wanted to find him, talk to him, make him understand. But you couldn’t. You had absolutely no idea where he was. Sure you had guesses, but it wasn’t worth the goose chase. You were both still fresh off of the argument, reasoning would have no effect. With nothing better to do, you went upstairs to bed, and for the first time in eleven years you did so without your husband. You drifted off thinking of him. How was he processing? How did he react? Where in Merlin’s name is he?

***

Fred apparated away as the tears began to stream down his face. He appeared in the middle of the field, just outside the two small shacks that held so many memories. He lightly tapped on the door of the larger one, and was met with the confused face of his brother.

“Fred?” Charlie asked, quickly noting Fred’s distraught appearance. Without having to speak Charlie immediately understood and ushered Fred inside.

The brothers were seated at the small table in the corner when Fred began to sob. “It’s over mate, it’s over.”

“Fred, what are you talking about?” Charlie asked, eyeing his brother.

“Y/n,” he choked out. “We-, We had a pretty nasty fight.” He calmed himself enough that he wasn’t hysterical, but tears continued their run down his reddened face. His brother gazed on in concern, giving Fred a moment.

“I’m sure it’ll work out mate. Though it must be pretty bad if you came all the way here.”

Fred turned to his brother, bottom lip quivering and eyes filling up again. “We are getting a divorce. We’re separated, Charlie.” Charlie's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, not quite sure what to say.

“Fred, I’m so sorry, that’s-”

“I was the one that said it. I said that we should get a divorce.”

“Oh.” Charlie stared at his brother for a moment, careful with proceeding. “Do you truly mean it?”

“I’m not sure. But… I really do think so.”

Charlie whispered a light “whoa” under his breath. “Do you want to talk it out now, or sleep it off and clear your head.”

“I think I’ll head off. It’s… been a long night.” Charlie nodded, sending Fred up the steps to the smaller second bedroom.

Charlie sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair as he ventured upstairs shortly after. 

The next morning Charlie softly rapped on the door to the spare bedroom, gently pushing the door open when he got no response. He was met with an awake Fred, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling.

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Fred?” Charlie asked, walking into the room. He was meat with a half-hearted groan as a response. Charlie peered over the bed and saw the large, dark circles under Fred’s eyes. “Didn’t sleep?”

“Couldn’t.”

Charlie nodded, softly padding out of the room and downstairs, calling behind him “Tea will be ready, come down if you’d like.”

***

You slowly blinked your eyes open, taking in the light streaming through the window. You’d stayed up late last night, not entirely sure what to do with yourself, so it was now nearly eleven. You tiptoed downstairs and got your tea ready. The silence was eerie, unsettling. You were used to waking up to a smiling Fred next to you. Having him play around while you make your tea, enjoying light conversation while you drank. Now you were just alone. Even worse, you didn’t know what to do today. Should you go to the store? Yes, it’s your job, but… is it even right to be there anymore? 

You were drawn out of your thoughts by a light rapping at the front door. You walked over and opened it, only to be met with the cheery visage of Molly Weasley. Fantastic. 

“Hello, dear!”, she exclaimed coming inside.

“Hello, Mo- um, Mum. Can I get you tea?” You attempted to smooth out your hair and fix your appearance just a bit as you followed her into the dining room.

“Oh no thank you, love. I just came to drop something off to Freddie.” She paused for a moment, searching around. “Say, where is he? Could’ve sworn the store doesn’t open this early.”

“Oh,” you forced a laugh, “He… went in early to organise a display for a new product set to release today.”

“Fantastic! Don’t remember him mentioning a new product…” She paused a moment, trying to recall this product that, unbeknownst to her, didn’t exist. “Anywho I’ll just stop by and give it to him, then!” She started for the door when you stopped her. “Mum, no!” She turned around, startled.

“What is it, dear?” She cocked an eyebrow at you, confused. 

“I-” you could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, and you silently hoped they’d go away. Unfortunately, Molly noticed.

“Y/n? Love what’s wrong?” She placed a hand on your arm, face contorting in concern. You immediately broke, and tears began to stream down your face. “Y/n?” she repeated, guiding you to sit on the couch. 

“Fred and I are getting divorced,” you choked out, sobbing. This was the first time you’d said it out loud. It was real, it was happening and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Pardon? Are you serious?” She was baffled, not sure if she had heard you correctly.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Your head was in your hands as Molly tried to console you, while becoming upset herself.

“My dear why are you sorry?”

“It’s my fault. I drove him away. I’m the one that changed without him. I made the divide and drove the wedge between it.”

“Darling that isn’t true. Was it you that said you wanted the divorce?”

“It was him.”

She froze for a second, pulling back slightly. “It was Fred? Well, do you agree?”

“I don’t even know. It’s all so confusing I’m barely even sure of what day it is.” She nodded in understanding. “Part of me thinks, truly hopes, that we can just talk through this and make some changes. But a larger part of me thinks this is real.” You looked at her with your puffy, tear stained face. She looked at you with her own expression of sadness. 

“Love, I’m sure everything will work out. Everything will settle how it’s intended to, no matter what that is.” She paused, “I hate to ask but do you know where Fred is?”

“No. He apparated away last night. I was hoping he went to the burrow.”

“Sorry dear. Well,” she said, standing, “If it were me, I’d go look for him. A big conversation needs to be had… sooner than later.” You stood up as well, walking her to the front door. She gave you a tight hug, holding on longer than usual. “Is there anything I can do for you, dear? Anything at all?”

“No, but thank you. I think I’ll get cleaned up and head out.” She nodded, stepping out the front door as you continued, “I need to talk to Fred.”

***

Fred slowly thudded downstairs, tripping over his own feet. He stumbled into the living room, taking a seat at the table across from Charlie. 

“Morning,” Charlie tipped his mug at Fred, handing him his own.  “So,” he hesitated, “How are ya?”

“I don’t even know, Charlie. I mean, so much needs to happen.” Fred paused, taking a sip of his tea. “I mean, what are we gonna tell mum? And everyone else? And,” he stopped, blinking back a tear, “the girls.”

Charlie’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, listening intently. “Why don’t you start with what actually happened last night?”

“Well,” Fred began, taking in a deep breath. “Something just changed, Charlie. We’d grown apart. I don’t even know when, cause surely it wasn’t just in the past four months. Guess we just now noticed. We grew up and became two different people. Who we are now don’t make a compatible couple, but we never had the time to adapt and make it work.m She was being a mum and I was off in my own world, and when she needed me I wasn’t there. So we were just fighting more and more until last night we… exploded.”

“Merlin,” Charlie whispered. “Do you want advice or did you just need to get that out?”

“Honestly I don’t even know anymore. Suppose some advice couldn’t hurt.”

Charlie nodded, pondering. “Well, I think you need to talk to y/n. I mean, yeah, some things were said and you were both mad, but maybe there is a return from this. I mean, over twenty years just thrown away over poor communication. Seems a bit much to me. A big conversation needs to be had, I don’t know where or how, but it needs to happen. And soon, Christmas break starts in what? Three days?”

Fred breathed in sharply. He stood up from the table, nodding at Charlie and heading for the door. “I need to talk to y/n.”

Marriage Story Taglist: @it-was-three-am​ @hariosborn​ @slytherinlovesgryffindor​ @dralf0yy​ @girl22334​

[jurassicsunsets]

Pachycephalosaur domes: Anatomy

Pachycephalosaurs were a group of ornithischian dinosaurs known exclusively from the Upper Cretaceous of the northern continents, best known for the distinctively domed skulls found in the adults of many species. Despite being among the most popular dinosaurs to be portrayed in media, the origins of the clade is shrouded in mystery, owing in part to a trend of poor preservation within the clade, especially regarding bones other than those of the skull. A ghost lineage of over 60 million years separates the earliest members of their sister clade, Ceratopsia, from the earliest known definite pachycephalosaur fossils (Xu et al., 2006). Also a source of debate has been the function of their frontoparietal domes, with proposed functions ranging from an anti-predator weapon to display to being simply the support structure for a much larger keratinous horn. In this series we’ll be taking a journey through the pachycephalosaur dome and different interpretations of it throughout history. Let’s start with the anatomy of the dome!

(Image: a 3D-printed skull of Stegoceras, a representative pachycephalosaur. Different bones are represented in different colours; the frontoparietal dome is the large blue bone on top of the head. Photo by me; scans for bones were provided by Jann Nassif and Larry Witmer)

The pachycephalosaur skull is notable for the extreme level of fusion present between the various cranial elements, making much of the skull seem almost like it’s made of one continuous bone. In particular, an extreme level of fusion occurs between the frontal and parietal elements, and they are referred to collectively as the frontoparietal (Gilmore, 1924). 

(Image: A drawing of the skull of Dromaeosaurus, a theropod dinosaur. This image is here to serve as a more “normal” dinosaur skull in comparison to the modified pachycephalosaur skull. The frontal and parietal (above and behind the eye) are unfused! Image from [source]).

In most or all known genera, these bones are dorsally expanded and greatly thickened, forming a dome of solid bone that can reach up to 222 millimetres (8.75 inches) in thickness in the largest species (Sues, 1978)! [It is worth noting, however, that some specimens lack domed skulls, instead being flat-headed. Interpretations of these forms has been problematic and will be discussed in a future post, which will be linked here when it’s up.] 

Because the dome is so thick, it’s able to survive damage that would destroy the rest of the body after death. ,Therefore many species of pachycephalosaur are known exclusively from the frontoparietal dome.

(Image: six different pachycephalosaur frontoparietal domes. Some of them are pretty badly eroded, but all are recognisable. Image from Peterson et al., 2013)

Pachycephalosaurs have been long known from the North American fossil record, though interpretation of their biology was long clouded by poor fossil remains.  Joseph Leidy — who you should really read about - he did a lot of neat things! He also named some indeterminate tooth taxa that have shown up here before. —Joseph Leidy in 1872 described a partial squamosal as Tylosteus ornatus, though he did not recognise that it was a dinosaur and instead considered it to be indeterminate skin armour of a reptile or armadillo-like mammal (Baird, 1979). 

The first pachycephalosaur to be recognised for its cranial dome was Stegoceras, though the only remains discovered were two domes and the taxon’s affinities were long contested. Lambe (1902) recognised the dome as a midline skull bone from a dinosaur; however, with no more complete specimens to draw on, he identified it as the nose horn of a Triceratops-like animal. Baron Nopcsa in 1903 was the first to identify the element as being formed in part by the frontal, though he mistakenly considered it to be a fusion of the frontal and the nasal, and considered it to have been a “unicorn dinosaur”, related to either ceratopsians or stegosaurids. 

Hatcher (1907) believed that the domes did not belong to a ceratopsian or even to an ornithischian, but to “some other reptilian order”. Hatcher did however, correctly identify the domes as being formed from a fusion of the frontals and parietal (though he erroneously also included the occipital), and opined that the structure did not support a horn, but rather functioned to strengthen the skull roof. Several years later, Lambe (1918) described a partial posterior skull of Stegoceras which confirmed the identification of the domed element; Lambe created the new grouping Psalosauridae to contain the genus and considered it to be closely related to ankylosaurs and stegosaurs, but made scant comment on the function of the dome beyond armouring the brain (presumably against attacks from predators).

It was not until the 1920s that a more complete specimen of Stegoceras was described, leading to a better understanding of the anatomy of the clade (Gilmore, 1924). Based on the very un-thyreophoran-like body fossils, Gilmore assigned Stegoceras to Ornithopoda; however, due to their very similar teeth, he also placed it within Troodontidae.

This, incidentally created a confusion that lasted for over twenty years, in which pachycephalosaurs were confused with troodontids - two groups very distantly related. Pachycephalosaurs, of course, were ornithischian dinosaurs closely related to ceratopsians like Triceratops, while troodontids were a group of extremely bird-like theropods.

(Image: a meme in which the first panel shows two cards, with a troodontid and a pachycephalosaurid on them, with text saying “Corporate needs you to find the differences between this picture and this picture. The second panel contains an image of Charles Gilmore saying “They’re the same picture.” Art by @thewoodparable​ and @palaeoshley​)

Gilmore also was the first to note that juvenile pachycephalosaur specimens, which he identified by their smaller size and lower degree of bone fusion, had much lower domes than did adults, though he did not elaborate on the biological implications of this. Further, Gilmore noted that the occipital condyle - the part of the skull that connects to the neck - was rotated downwards. This is really unusual; in almost all other animals the neck attaches to the back of the skull. (The only exceptions I know of are humans and woodcocks.)

(Image: An American Woodcock. Image by Mark Olivier, from Macaulay Library.)

From this, Gilmore concluded that the animal usually held its head with its nose downward. Gilmore was also the first to propose that pachycephalosaurs preferred upland habitats, and suggested that this may explain the scarcity of postcranial remains.

This series will continue with a look into ideas proposed into what exactly pachycephalosaurs were doing with their domes. Part II can be found here, and part III can be found here!

[baku-no-alt]

by design: eight

The following four days felt like the longest of your life. You ended the night of your birthday celebration with Mei and Kirishima at a McDonald’s; you sheepishly told them Bakugou had gotten tired and left when they asked where he’d gone to. 

Half of Saturday was spent working, the other half with your family. The work and the nice dinner your family made for you did nothing to help take your thoughts away from the last conversation you had with Bakugou.

Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were all dedicated to putting the finishing touches on Bakugou’s hero costume. When it was done, you stepped back and stared at your creation on the mannequin - it was most certainly your best work to date. 

And then came Wednesday, the day of the Expo. You packed up the costume and made your way to the convention center, nerves bubbling in your stomach. You had started out so determined to win Bakugou over, and now you’d be presenting the finished costume to him and the judges while he was pissed at you. 

These thoughts mingled in your mind as you stood backstage, waiting for your name to be called to make your presentation. You smoothed the fabric of the costume over the mannequin, built specifically to Bakugou’s measurements, and tried to steady your breathing. 

A small cough behind you nearly scared you out of your skin. You whipped your head around, hoping against hope that you’d see a mess of spiky blonde hair standing behind you. But it was a woman in a suit, holding a bag. 

“Ground Zero sent me to give these back to you,” she said quietly. 

“Oh,” you said, trying not to sound disappointed. You reached your hand out, and she placed the bag in your hand. “Did he say anything else?” The woman shook her head. 

You heard your name called over the loud speaker, paging you to the stage. 

“Good luck,” she said, giving you small smile. 

You walked to the wings and waited your turn while the person before you finished up their presentation. 

Inside the bag that she had given you were the mini-detonators. You let out a sigh as you turned the bag upside down and let them all fall into your hand. You placed them on the sleeves of the costume one by one, and by the time you were done, it was your turn to take the stage. 

You felt like your heart would spring out of your chest as you rolled the mannequin to the center of the stage. A crowd of about a thousand people were gathered in the chairs placed in front of the stage, and at the forefront of the crowd was the panel of judges, seated at table. There were three in total, including Bakugou, who sat with his arms folded, red eyes boring into you. You nearly shivered, although you felt hot with so much attention on you. 

“My chosen assignment was a re-design of Ground Zero’s hero costume,” you began. There was a scattering of murmurs in the crowd.  

You started from the top of the costume and worked your way down, explaining every piece, why it was changed, and what the functionality of the new costume was. A projector illuminated the large screen behind you, which would show pieces of the costume in larger detail as you spoke about them. 

“The fabric of the costume is a creation I worked on with Mei Hatsume,” you explained, “It’s bullet proof, but still breathable. I added in color-changing nanites for stealth purposes.” You clicked a remote, and the orange patterns on the costume shifted to black. This drew applause from the crowd, and you smirked. Color-changing was always a people pleaser. 

“The gauntlets were replaced by mini-detonators. They work much in the same way, collected nitroglycerin to be used in explosions. Ground Zero has the option to use one at a time for smaller explosions, or use them all at once for a larger impact.” 

“The pants are now a little more form fitting, and the kneepads are built into them. His boots I kept aesthetically the same, but added in some technology in the soles to help with balance in the event that an explosion sends out shockwaves.”

“This costume is a sleeker, updated version of Ground Zero’s original costume,” you said. Your eyes flicked over to his and caught the scowl on his face. You took a deep breath and continued, “but, in the spirit of evolution, the theme of our convention, I think I should also point out that we should remember where we came from.”

Silence from the crowd. 

“It’s important to remember what inspires us. Why we do the things that we do. What started our love for what we do in the first place,” you said, smiling. “And that’s why -” you gestured to the screen behind you, “- this costume is designed to be compatible with, or even enhance, every piece of Ground Zero’s original costume.”

The projector screen showed Bakugou’s gauntlets fitting snugly over the mini-detonators, using their power to let off incredible explosions. The small, sleek neckbrace you designed connected to his and created a powerful neck guard. The nanites in the costume next to you shifted, and the bright orange ‘x’ that was featured on Bakugou’s current costume was mirrored on the one you designed.

“Evolution is about improvement, but it’s also about where we came from and what makes us unique. And I wanted my costume to reflect being able to make improvements without compromising how genuinely himself Ground Zero is. Thank you.” 

You bowed, signaling the end of your presentation, and your heart soared as the crowd cheered. You came back up, smiling, and glanced over at Bakugou again. His expression had softened, and he rolled his eyes at you as he untucked his arms and began to clap as well. 

A stagehand brought your mannequin closer to the judges so that they could inspect it, and you hurried backstage. You found a chair and collapsed into it, exhilarated. You couldn’t stop smiling. You covered your face in your hands and let out a muffled squeal to try and release some of your emotion.

When you removed your hands, you saw Aiko running up to you. “You nailed it!” she said excitedly, and wrapped you in a bear hug. You hugged her back tightly. 

“There’s a table with refreshments for the participants, want to get some food while we wait?” she asked. 

You nodded, still unable to process thoughts or words correctly, and followed her to the table. 

-

A few hours later, everyone had finished presenting and the judges had time to inspect each costume up close. All the participants were waiting backstage for the award ceremony to begin. 

You had separated yourself from everyone else, trying to calm your nerves by getting some time alone. There was a hallway to another part of the convention center connected to the backstage area. It was far away from the stage and dimly lit, but you could vaguely hear the announcer. You leaned up against the wall, and closed your eyes. 

“Hey.” 

Your eyes shot open at the sound his voice. Bakugou stood in the doorway at the far end of the hall. 

“Hey,” you said back. He walked towards you, and leaned his back against the wall opposite you. 

“The color-changing was a nice touch,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“So you liked it?” you asked. 

“Of course I did, dumbass.” You breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. 

“In third place...” It was Deku’s costume designer. She had done really well. You folded your arms tightly against your body, trying to squeeze the nerves out. 

“Listen,” Bakugou said, “I’m... sorry I walked out like a jerk the other night.” 

“It’s alright,” you shrugged, “I may have been a little unreasonable.” 

“In second place...” Froppy’s costume was announced. Her designer did a complete re-design, and included an entire set an amphibian environment. 

“Fuck...” you hissed leaning your head back against the wall. 

Bakugou pushed himself up and took a couple steps closer to you. “I don’t know what you’re so fucking worried about,” he said, “You’re going to win.” It sounded like more of statement than words of encouragement. 

“Don’t jinx me,” you mumbled, looking up at him. You heard the sound of cheering as Froppy’s designer was done accepting her award. Mirroring Bakugou, you pushed yourself up off of the wall. 

The hallway was tight, and you were standing very close together now. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body. Your mind flashed back to the night he rescued you. 

“In first place...” You didn’t dare to breathe. 

“Hey,” he whispered. You looked over at him. “You kicked ass, okay?” 

And then you heard your name. Your eyes widened, but didn’t break contact with his. 

“You won,” he breathed. You tried to respond, but all you could do was suck in a breath.

And then he kissed you. 

Grabbing both sides of your face, he smashed his lips against yours, and you draped your arms over his shoulders. You could hear the crowd cheering in the background. You smiled against his lips, jumped up and wrapped your legs around his torso. 

In a move you didn’t expect, he spun you around and then gently let you down, your lips still connected. You both gently pulled away.and you couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off of your face. 

“Go on,” Bakugou said, gesturing towards the stage. You bit your lip, squeezed his hand, and ran to claim your victory. 

---

masterlist

@yeet-these-hoez @frenchspeakingfilipina @hanatsuki-hime @chims-kookies @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @ha-tep @the1975thing @lookslikeleese @thatlonelypieceoftoast @ayeputita @missalienqueen

[joon-ipersgirl]

O4 - “the cynical contract”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district’s hottest new club, go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients. 

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total. 

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember, nothing is ever as it seems...

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing

a/n: part four is here! this is a lot shorter than i thought it was going to be for some reason. more interactions with the boys and some important conversations. not much else to say except enjoy this part, thank you vi for reading all of my shit, and look out for the next part in 2 weeks! thank youu. 

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

The beaming Saturday sun burns down on the top of your head as you stand outside of Spiral. It looks almost the same in the day time as it does in the night time, except there’s no line stretching around the corner. Its unlit sign still stands tall as if it’s a lighthouse guiding ships home - if ships were overly stressed people looking for a way to drink their problems away. No one is out on the street as most of the businesses on this particular street operate during the night. You don’t linger and push open the heavy, newly-covered leather door and descend the stairs.

Though it’s high noon outside, the staircase is just as dark as if you’d come in on a Saturday night. The ever-familiar heat is pleasant as you loosen the scarf from your neck. It seems as though Suga is renovating the place. Circular mirrors line the wall and you catch a glimpse of your damp curls in their reflection. You probably should have used a blow dryer. Another heavy door greets you and you heave it open.

“Hey! Watch the new chairs Tae!” Honcho yells as he carries a small table over.

“Yeah, yeah. They’ll be fine!” Tae, the DJ, calls back. His bubblegum pink hair flops as he drops the chairs to the ground.

It seems you’re right. Though much of the layout is still the same, Spiral is taking on a whole new look. The booths have been covered in new leather, black marble tables have replaced the glass ones, and the black tiles are so clear that you can easily see your reflection. The dance floor and bar look very much the same except for some new shelving that you guess were damaged during last month’s commotion. Overall, the design is pretty much the same with a few new touches added here and there.

“If it isn’t our favorite little sharpshooter,” Honcho calls out to you from across the room. You flash him a fake smile.

“Yes. If I do remember correctly, my shooting saved your life so,” you trail off.

“It also cost you a lot of money too. Are you here to repay your debt?” he counters, his grin never leaving his face.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Both men raise their eyebrows. “If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, it seems as though you still have some work to finish,” you say with a chuckle before making your way to the spiral staircase by the bar.

“Is she always like this?” you hear Tae ask.

“As far as I’ve seen, yes,” Honcho replies.

You grin as you continue up the stairs. The second level has also gone under some renovation as you realize it’s much larger than you’d noticed before. More booths have been added as well as another small dance floor. As you poke your head around the familiar leather door of Suga’s office at the end of the walkway, you realize that it too has been changed into some sort of upper-class VIP room with its own miniature bar. You enter and run your fingers along the smooth bar top surface, the bottles of alcohol lined up neatly on top of it. The books previously housed in the bookshelf have been removed and replaced with various displays of empty bottles of alcohol. An upscale, artistic graveyard if you will.

“Do you like what you see?” You spin around and knock over one of the cute little spiral lamp fixtures on the side table with your open coat. Shit. Min laughs as he leans against the door frame, his smile as bright as ever. “I think that’ll be added to your total,” he chuckles.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” you groan, throwing your head back in annoyance.

“Is that how you always sound when you’re flustered?” He grins as he takes another step into the room. You can feel the blood rise in your cheeks as you try to respond.

“Cat got your tongue, Y/N?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I came to see Suga, but I guess this isn’t his office anymore,” you tell him in a huff. Min shakes his head with a smile.

“Mhmm, never really was,” he hums. “We’re redecorating for a new opening. Do you like it?”

He’s in front of you now, the space between you much smaller than it’s ever been and you’re acutely aware of the soft waft of his cologne. Min is unbelievably attractive in a way that was almost ethereal. His silver hair is just as polished and his eyes sparkle even more in the natural sunlight from the large bay windows. The same silver rings adorn his hands as before and you bite your lip hard to not comment on how wonderful his arms look crossed against his chest in his pristine white T-shirt. Squaring your shoulders, you set your jaw stubbornly. You will not fall victim to his airy charms.

“It’s alright,” you lie and shrug your shoulders. “You should probably get rid of the graveyard though,” you say while pointing to the bookcase. Min laughs again.

“It’s a work in progress, Y/N. You’ll come to see my artistic vision eventually,” he says with a smile so alluring, you feel your breath catch in your chest.

“Ah, so you work here now? I was wondering why you were always hanging around,” you comment, trying to stay calm.

“So you’ve noticed me? How sweet,” he murmurs. His fingers brush against your cheek gently and you swallow deeply. “Come on, Kitten. I’ll bring you to Suga.”

He runs his fingers down your arm before slipping his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together. The whole ordeal felt quite intimate and your ears heat up as you follow him out of the room. Instead of walking down the usual walkway, Min makes a left out the door and down a tiny hallway you hadn’t noticed before. He pushes open a smaller leather door, tells you to watch your step, and pulls you up the dark narrow stairs. Was Spiral truly this big?

Min pushes another door open before you’re on what you assume was the third level. Though you know you’d gone further upstairs, it’s just as dark as the lower levels. The hallway is much shorter here and fewer rooms are available. You count a total of three doors as Min drags you towards the one at the furthest end of the hall.

“Are we accepting the Gonzalez’ contract or should we send them a new invoice?”

“Hmm, let me read over it again. There was something I didn’t really like about -” Moon and Suga’s conversation stops abruptly as Min pokes his head around the door, his body shielding you from view.

“Is everything okay?” you hear Moon ask.

“Wonderful actually. Seems like we’ve got a guest to see Suga,” Min replies as he pushes the door open further to reveal you. You smile and send a small wave towards them.

This office is quite similar to its counterpart downstairs; the same large floor to ceiling windows are present along with the large mahogany desk. Instead of only being on one side of the room, two full length bookshelves line the walls. A small wooden coffee table sits in the middle of the room with four leather chairs positioned around it, a bottle of whiskey in the centre accompanied by matching glasses. Though this space seems to be new, it feels significantly more lived in than the one downstairs.

“We did have a meeting, didn’t we Kid?” Suga asks. He sets the iPad down on the desk in front of Moon who’s sitting behind it, his feet propped up as though he’s at home.

“Yes, we did,” you tell him while nodding.

“Seems like Min has grown on you, huh Y/N?” Moon gestures to your hands with a grin. You yank your hand from Min’s grip and step away from him as you stare at Moon with a scowl. Min chuckles beside you seemingly unfazed by your actions.

“Seems like you’re still ever the dickhead, huh Moon?” You plop down in a leather chair and mimic his position, your heavy Doc Martens propped up on the stout wooden table. You stare at each other. Moon’s grin widens as he drops his feet and leans across the desk.

“All for you sweetheart,” he replies. You flash him a fake smile before turning to Suga.

“So, are you going to kick him out of your office so we can talk business or what?” you ask. Min and Moon’s laughter rings out in the room. “I hadn’t realized I had said something funny,” you say with a frown.

“Kid, you can’t just waltz in -”

“-  It’s fine, Suga. You did say she had a meeting with you. Business right?” Moon stands up from behind the desk and picks up the iPad. “I’ll drop by your office later about that invoice,” he continues. Suga grunts in acknowledgement before sitting down in the recently vacated chair.

Moon glances at you as he continues towards the door.You can’t help but notice the way the muscles in his thighs flex under his dark wash jeans as he walks. You also try to ignore how broad his chest looks under his white t-shirt and flannel. Glancing up at his face, his eyes meeting yours before he grins down at you again. How have you never noticed his dimples before?

“See you later, Y/N ,” he says while brushing his hand against your shoulder. You tense and he chuckles as he calls for Min to follow him.

“Bye, Kitten,” Min whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek gently. You inhale sharply and hope it wasn't noticeable. “See you later boss!” he calls to Suga before the door closes softly behind them. Gods knew how you were going to survive working with these men.

“Do you let all of your employees sit in your chair?” you ask Suga as you recall Min sitting in it the first time you’d been here.

“Do you have to question absolutely everything you see or hear?” he asks, frustrated. He runs his hands through his hair as he rests his elbows on the desk.

“As a matter of fact, I do. It’s all part of the job,” you tell him with a shrug.

“What’d you come to talk about, Kid? I have a lot of work to get done today,” he says ignoring your question.

“You know you should really dye your hair a different color if you're not going to exude the kind of cheerful happiness that is mint,” you tell him matter-of-factly. You shrug off your coat and drape it across your legs.

“Y/N,” he glares at you. “What do you want?” So much for some friendly banter.

“Okay. I know I have to pay you back for the lights - you’re welcome for saving your life by the way - and so I’ve come up with a proposition,” you explain. Suga raises an eyebrow. “Nothing like that! I was thinking I could work at the club,” you continue.

“Why do you always think someone wants to fuck you, Kid?” Suga chuckles. You stand up abruptly and almost knock the chair over.

“I did not say that!”

“Mhm, but it was implied by your abrupt response. Sit down.” you sit in a small huff. “About your proposition though. That could work. With the remodeling, we’re looking to expand our staff. I won’t make you interview. I’ll have to do some calculations based on what you owe and the number of hours you’re available to work, but it should be fine,” he continues while jotting some notes down on a sheet of paper.

“That’s it?” you ask. This is much easier than you thought it’d be. Suga glances back up at you.

“Yeah. Was there something else you wanted to add?”

“Uh, no. I guess not. Sounds good,” you tell him while standing and grabbing your things. He nods.

“Do me a favor and write your contact info down and then I’ll walk you out. We still have a lot to get done here. ”

You cross the space and take the pen from Suga’s hand, your fingers brushing each other's. As you scribble your name and phone number down, you notice the other stack of papers on the desk. Though you’re trying your best to mind your business - and you know you should  since not minding it is the reason you’re currently here - you let your eyes scan over the upside down documents.

It seems to be some sort of form or contract that has numerous details spelled out on the page. You can make out a date in late Spring, a location that’s somewhere on the nicer side of downtown, and the name Jonas on the paper along with some amount of money before it’s covered up by Suga’s arm as he stares at you, his eyes narrowed. You smile at him as innocently as you can before you hand the pen back and straighten up.

“All done!” you tell him cheerily. He nods and jerks his head towards the door, an indication that you should make your way over. You glance back down at the papers before turning on your heel and sweeping your jacket and scarf into your arms.

Suga closes the door behind you and guides you down the dark narrow hallway with his hand on your lower back. You descend the first set of stairs and you glance over the balcony on the second level to see Min and Tae fooling around in between unopened boxes on the dance floor as Honcho and Moon watch on, laughing at their antics. The sound of your boots against the grate floor draws their eyes upwards and you feel a little self conscious under their gazes. Why is it that your confidence always slips around them when you need it the most?

“Did our little sharpshooter pay up, Suga?” Honcho calls as he leans against the bar and stares you down.

“No, but we’ve managed to come to an agreement,” he answers as you reach the bottom of the stairs.

“An agreement? She doesn’t really seem like your -”

“Not that type of agreement, dumbass,” you cut Tae off. You yank on your coat, annoyed. And Suga thinks you’re crazy for thinking that people wanted to fuck you?

“Ah, does this one include all of us?” Moon asks and the rest of the guys chuckle. You shoot him the finger and turn back to Suga.

“Now do you see why I had to clarify my proposition earlier?” you exclaim softly. He nods his head with a smile.

“Knock it off guys. You’re making Kitten flustered,” Min says teasingly. You throw your hands up in the air in defeat.

“I give up, my gods! You guys are insufferable. Gods don’t let the hours be too long. I’m not sure how long I can last before I commit my first murder if I have to be around them for hours on end!” you yell in frustration.

“Might be a little too late for that one Kid,” Suga mutters behind you and Moon laughs. You turn to face him again.

“What?”

“Nothing. Look, I’ll text you with all the details about when to come in some time next week -”

“Wait, come in?” Honcho asks. “As in, work here?” he clarifies, his ears almost as red as his dyed hair. You grin feeling the atmosphere shift into your favor. You flip hair over your shoulders and start heading to the door. It seems as if it’s your cue to go.

“You can’t be serious, Suga,” Tae groans and pushes his hands through his hair. The sight of his discomfort puts a little pep in your step as you stop right in front of the door before turning to face them.

“See you boys later! Glad we could work out an agreement!” you laugh as you watch Tae and Honcho’s faces fall at your terrible attempt at a joke before you head out the door and up the main stairs to the outside world.

Though it feels like every time they look at you, you’d melt under their gaze, it feels good to have the upper hand sometimes. You hope you can keep it as there were more than a few events you had questions about and, unbeknownst to those lovely men downstairs, they’re going to help you answer them.

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© joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[shimmertrapped]

I’ve Got You - Stiles Stilinski x Reader (3/?)

Summary: After being rescued from an unknown enemy, Y/N and Stiles grow closer whilst dealing with trauma and a lingering threat.  (post-high school AU where Scott, Allison, Stiles, and Y/N are roommates)

Characters: Stiles x Argent!Cousin OC (Reader), Scott x Allison

Word Count: 1564

A/N: thank you to everyone who’s been reading/liking/reblogging so far!  i hope you’re enjoying, feel free to comment what you think and also if you’d like to be added to the tag list just let me know!

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Stiles woke to sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the white curtains across the room.  He opened his eyes groggily and was confused for a moment as his mind worked to remember where he was.  He glanced over the arm of the couch to find Y/N’s bed empty.  His stomach dropped, and for a second he wasn’t sure whether yesterday had actually happened, or if it had just been a dream that he was now having the horrible displeasure of waking up from.  But at the sight of the fresh indent on her pillow where her head had rested, he calmed down a little.  Still, he got up quickly, folded his blanket, and went to the restroom to freshen up before heading downstairs.

Relief fully set in as he caught sight of two pink slipper-clad feet dangling from one of the stools at the kitchen island.  Y/N was perched there, looking out the window, a glass of water in her hands.  She didn’t appear to hear his approach so, voice still rough from sleep, Stiles said, “Morning.”

Y/N turned then, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.  “Morning.”

Stiles padded into the kitchen, noting the dark circles under her eyes.  “How did you sleep?”

Y/N shrugged.  “All right.  You?”

Stiles rolled his neck as he grabbed a glass for himself from the cupboard.  “Not bad.  The couch was surprisingly comfy.”

“Oh, good,” Y/N said from behind him as he went to the fridge to pour himself some orange juice.  “Have you heard anything from Scott yet?”

“Hm,” Juice in hand, Stiles leaned against the counter and pulled his phone from the pocket of his plaid pajama pants.  He tapped its glossy screen and frowned.  No messages.  “Not yet.”

He glanced over at Y/N, whose face bore a concerned expression.  “Allison hasn’t messaged me either.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Stiles said.  “They probably just haven’t had a chance to text.”

Y/N nodded, looking as though she were trying to convince herself of that.

Stiles braced a hand on the counter and turned to her. "How 'bout I make us some breakfast, and if we still haven’t heard anything by then we can try calling them?”

Y/N considered this, and after a moment accepted his proposal.  “All right.”

Stiles set his now empty glass down and moved back to the fridge.  “What are you hungry for? We’ve got -”

His sentence cut off as he surveyed the contents of the fridge - or rather, the lack thereof.  He supposed grocery shopping hadn’t exactly been their top priority this past week.  Stiles scratched the back of his neck.  “Err...”

“I think there’s some leftover pizza in the freezer.”

Stiles straightened and looked over his shoulder.  “Really?”

"Mmhmm," Y/N said.  “Unless someone ate it.”

Stiles turned back around and opened up the freezer.  Sure enough, behind a bag of frozen corn sat a container of four slices of pizza.  He spun around, holding it above his head and singing a note of triumph.

Y/N giggled.

And Stiles’ heart stopped.

His arms lowered a fraction and his gaze slid down from the container to where Y/N was smiling up at him.  It was the first time since bringing her home that he had heard her laugh or seen her crack a smile.  Stiles felt the lingering weight of anxiety from the last week lift slightly.  

He grinned back at her and approached the kitchen island, bringing the container down onto it.

“Now, the question is,” he began seriously.  “What is your preferred method of reheating frozen pizza?”

*

“I’m good with just microwaving it,” Y/N said.

Stiles looked as though she had just insulted his ancestors.  Hand pressed against his chest, eyes wide, he said, “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t just hear you say that.”

Another involuntary laugh bubbled out of Y/N, surprising even her.  “Okay then tell me, oh wise one, what is the proper technique?”

Stiles held up a finger and bent down to rummage through the cabinet below the island.  Y/N waited, brows raised in amusement.  After a brief moment, he popped back up, waving a frying pan in the air.

“Huh,” Y/N said, impressed.  “I’ve actually never tried that.”

“Then allow me to blow your mind.”

Y/N waited patiently as Stiles crossed the floor to the oven.  He flicked a dial on the stovetop and slapped the pizza onto the skillet before placing a lid overtop of it.  A sizzling sound filled the kitchen as Stiles fetched two plates, setting one down in front of Y/N, and one at the spot to her left.  After about five minutes, he returned to the stove, uncovered the skillet, and carried it over to where she sat.

“Which do you want?” he asked.

Y/N eyed the contents of the pan and pointed to the smaller slices of pizza, leaving the larger of them for Stiles.  “I’ll take those two.”

Stiles obediently slid the slices she had indicated onto their respective plates before going to set the pan back down on the stove top, turning the element off as he did.  Then, he returned to the island and settled onto the stool beside her.  He grabbed a slice of his pizza and held it up.  “Cheers.”

Y/N smiled and raised her own slice to tap his.  “Cheers.”

She studied the pizza.  It certainly looked good.  She took a bite and her eyes widened in surprise.  Indeed, it was perfectly heated through, the cheese sufficiently bubbly and the crust just crispy enough. Her eyes slid to Stiles as she chewed, and she found him watching her expectantly.   Y/N covered her mouth as she half-coughed, half-laughed.   She swallowed.

“Well?” Stiles asked.

“I mean, I don’t know if my mind is blown, but...” she said. “It’s pretty damn good.”

Stiles grinned, cheeks full of food, as he banged a hand on the island top in celebration.  He gulped down his food. “You’re welcome.”

Y/N shook her head, smiling, but then jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on the marble countertop.  She reached to unlock it.

Allison: Still on guard.  Scott should have a chance to call in a bit.

Relief washing over her, Y/N showed the text to Stiles, who blew out a breath.

“Any idea what they’re doing?” Y/N asked him.

Stiles scrunched up his face.  “Derek heard word a few days ago of another pack headed for Beacon Hills.  It’s probably something to do with that.  Nothing they can’t handle.”

Stiles stood and went to collect their plates, but Y/N reached to grab hers.  “I’ll clean up, you made the food.”

“I heated up pizza,” Stiles brushed her off, taking the plate from her.  “I’ve got it, you just take it easy.”

“All right, thanks,” Y/N said in resignation as Stiles went to rinse the plates before placing them in the dishwasher.

“So,” he said as he grabbed the pan from the stove and began washing it in the sink.  He paused, as if carefully considering his next words.  “I don’t know if you want to talk about - what happened.  But if you do, I’m here, okay?”

A flurry of images flashed through Y/N’s mind as clearly as if she were seeing them in real life.  Trees blurring past her.  The inside of a trunk.  She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Y/N?”

She opened them again to see Stiles staring at her, hands frozen mid-scrub on the skillet under the running water.

Y/N swallowed.  “I... I don’t know what I want.”

Stiles' mouth pressed into a thin line.  He set the skillet on the drying rack next to the sink.  “I -”

An upbeat ringtone cut off his sentence as his phone lit up on the island in front of her.  Y/N saw Scott’s name appear on the screen and Stiles lunged for it, hands still covered in soapy bubbles.

“Scott?” He said.

Y/N watched Stiles' face as he listened to their friend on the other line.  His expression remained neutral.

“Okay,” Stiles said after a minute.  “Be careful.  Talk to you later.”

Stiles hung up and set the phone back down.

“What’s the word?”  Y/N asked.

“Apparently the pack is larger than they thought,” Stiles said.  “Derek’s going to need them to stay as reinforcements for now.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Y/N asked, though she was sure what the answer would be.  Allison had been training Y/N to use a crossbow over the past couple months since learning about their whole world, but she was nowhere near skilled enough yet to be of much use.  And Stiles mostly worked behind the scenes.

Stiles shook his head, confirming her assumption.  “Scott says they’re not worried about it, they just need to make sure they have the numbers when the time comes.”

Y/N nodded, but chewed on her bottom lip as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Don't worry," Stiles said again, correctly interpreting her body language.  "Scott didn't sound concerned at all. More annoyed, if anything."

In spite of herself, Y/N smirked.  "Okay, I believe you."

She let out a yawn, then.

Stiles eyed her.  "You sure you got another sleep?"

"Mmhmm," Y/N lied.  "But maybe I'll go lie on the couch for a bit.  Want to watch something?"

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AO3 link

tag list: @lzz-chaos​

posted May 5, 2020

[sawpisces0]

builders 95

Your Local Builders Seller.

Content

Government Introduces A Help To Develop Fund For Personalized And Self.

Aires Construction.

Case Study:.

That Should I Use To Do My Loft Conversion?

Between 2021 and the end of2019, there were nearly 6.8 million multi-unit residential starts, including condos, townhomes, and manufactured homes. This total included: 4.5 million custom home building Starts. That's a significant decrease from the previous decade, when there was an estimated 9.2 million multi-unit residential starts! However, even with that drop, there is still much growth to be seen in multi-unit residential construction.

* Supply Side Headwinds: As we've seen over the last decade, when faced with higher demand for goods and services, many companies become over-comfortable in their ability to provide. They become wasteful and/or inefficient. In the face of high demand, they are forced to make cuts in order to stay profitable. In this case, they cut costs by reducing overhead, labor, and product. When faced with a glut of products and materials, they tend to pass on the cut they have made in expenses to consumers... resulting in lower prices and reduced consumer confidence. It's a cycle that can easily last the duration of the next five years, or longer.

Federal Government Introduces An Aid To Construct Fund For Customized As Well As Self.

The question of course, is how will all of this affect home builders in terms of the future? And the answer is... not well. The fact is that home building supply are both tied closely to the overall health of the economy, and to the success or failure of the recovery effort. Here are some thoughts on why home builders are feeling the pinch in the current climate:

Or else, you can choose either a dormer or a hip-to-gable conversion.

If you have a lot of headspace in the loft, you can have a straightforward roof covering light conversion.

The costs of loft conversion are no various for bungalows than two-storey houses.

If you utilize your very own building contractor, you must make certain that the framework is correctly analyzed to avoid troubles when the build is underway.

It helps that we understand developing laws from top to bottom and also have a skilled architectural engineer on board, so we can supply bespoke guidance, whatever your circumstance could be.

While it is too early to definitively say that the lull in multi-unit housing will continue, it appears that this is one of the indicators that we may be seeing with respect to the last decade or so. Looking at national housing trends, it seems as though multi-unit housing is settling into the mainstream as more Americans choose to live in multi-unit dwellings. As a result, we have seen a dramatic increase in multi-unit building over the last decade. We've also seen some moderation in home building in some areas of the country, as well as lower home building costs. Looking at all of this together, it is hard not to speculate that the lull in single-unit construction may be coming to an end in the next few years, with builders are realizing that they need to build more multi-unit dwellings to keep up with the demand.

Aires Building.

Northern California - this area is seeing an increase in home building activity. Much of this has to do with the fact that there is less of a tendency for builders to be really conservative when it comes to building costs in this part of the state. The development of Northern California is very "green" in its approach, and builders are finding that they can save money by utilizing environmentally friendly construction practices. This is especially helpful in the arid climate of Northern California.

* Lenders' Perspective - In many instances, lenders are taking a wait and see approach with new construction loans. They are leaning toward the cautious, but realistic expectation that borrowers will eventually come to grips with the higher interest rates, shorter term terms, and larger down payments required. If the lending community believes lenders have a greater chance of providing loan forgiveness programs to borrowers who will qualify, they may be holding back on approving loans. This does not mean, however, that lenders are totally cutting their investment in home building. You can expect to hear more about these programs and changes from your lender as the economy and home building trends develop over the next few years.

Study:.

The number of people looking for a home building contractor has increased over the past five years. Between 2021 and the end of next year, there are now over 6.5 million single-family homes built. That's a lot of houses! So where are they all going? Here are some of the areas that have seen the biggest spike in new construction.

What are the types of services applied to the building?

Types of building services1 Introduction. 2 Building management systems. 3 Energy generation, distribution and supply. 4 Escalators and lifts. 5 Facade engineering. 6 Fire safety, detection and protection. 7 Heating, ventilation and air conditioning (HVAC) 8 Information and communications technology (ICT) networks. More items•

Southern California - builders have been scooping up land in the LA and Orange County areas. There is so much potential in this region. Southern California has so many natural assets to draw upon, and a large number of builders from foreign countries are coming to the United States to tap into this talent pool. In the past, home building in this area was centered around the greater Los Angeles area. Now though, there is learn more by visiting this page into Orange County as well.

Develop And Refurbish For Less.

Condos and townhomes have risen in popularity in the last few years, as they represent both affordable living on a mainstream basis, as well as a smaller-scale alternative to sprawling single detached housing markets. Condos often represent the best option for first-time home buyers, as they allow you to live within a small community, yet still enjoy the benefits of living in a bustling city. However, they also present a bigger challenge for developers to work with than single detached homes did in the past. In part, that is because multi-unit housing requires a higher density than most single detached housing did in the past. In this context, it seems as if the lull in new home building over the last decade may be coming to an end.

learn about a builders andover ="display: flex;justify-content: center;">

* Existing Home Sales and Demand A lot of people are choosing to purchase a new home instead of buying an older one. This is one of the fastest growing segments of the market. There is simply no reversal of this trend. So, if you're waiting for the market to change and home building companies to take a dive, you're likely to be waiting a very long time. trusted-builders.co.uk’s free local builders liphook in new construction might be good news for those homeowners who were counting on selling in the near future, but not for those looking to purchase their first new home in the next decade. Home buyers will only be able to find new construction houses in the top 10% of sales statistics through the next decade.

Who Should I Usage To Do My Loft Space Conversion?

[doberbutts]

 Okay so this is going to get long and more than a little bit tmi but it’s a post summing up some strides I’ve made regarding my own transgender journey and I wanted a place to talk about it and maybe help some BabyTrans figure themselves out along the way so I’m putting it under the cut but it’ll go here >:V

Anyway long story short my insurance settlement from my car accident finally figured itself out and I found myself suddenly $30k richer and immediately spent about $10k of that digging myself out of a very deep debt hole I’ve been wallowing in for a while so now I have some actual financial stability plus have some money to throw at some things that would probably make my life a bit better.

And since I have the money to throw at some things, I bought myself a few new binders and also a packer. Binders because my old one was literally disintegrating- part of that is my fault, washing binders in an industrial machine on high heat plus throwing it in the dryer means your binder falls apart faster than it should. Remember I’m from the very end of Ye Olden Days of transmasc products, which means previously most binders lasted a year at most. My binder made it 2.5 years before giving up and becoming a sports bra instead. I’ve learned from my mistakes and treat my binder(s) much more gently now, plus I have more than one so I can rotate them out and not wear the same binder 8-12 hours daily for 2.5 years and kill it doing exactly the same shit.

For reference sake, I’m 5′10′’, 180lbs, 36C bust, and fit a XL from gc2b. Which is who I bought both my previous binder and my current set from. They are low cost, lightweight, well made, and LGBT-owned and operated which makes me super into buying from them instead of some of the other companies offering something similar.

Being that I am biracial and finding something my skintone is always somewhat... interesting... I followed the internet’s suggestion and went with PeeCock for the packer. I’d bought a zip binder from them a few years ago and actually found that to be the most comfortable binder I’ve ever used in the history of ever, but I will say the durability of zip binders is low compared to pull-over binders in my experience, as the zipper exploded one day when I bent down to pick up a small dropped item. I’d had the binder and was rotating its use with my pullover gc2b for about 6 months when this happened, and was in public when I went from flat chested to big uncontained tiddies in the span of seconds. Not great. I’ve been told that probably means it was a little too small for me, but PeeCock is a company based in Singapore, and their sizes like most East Asian clothing do run quite a bit small (I was a XXL in PeeCock sizes when I wore a size L gc2b binder) so there’s not really a lot of wiggle room for me to go up in size. Additionally their sizing taps out at XXXL so anyone who’s bigger than me in the chest/torso is a bit out of luck for their binders. A shame, because that zip binder was so comfortable I fell asleep in it forgetting I even had it on more than once.

Anyway. Since I did like that binder even though we had the wardrobe mishap, and the internet had pretty good reviews on the PeeCock packers because they are multifunctional and actually make correct skin tones for black dudes, I got one. Since money wasn’t an issue I did get the most recent model which was not cheap (~$300) and so far I like it a lot. I got so used to wearing it that when I take it off to clean it, it actually really bothers me. The weight of it is... comforting, in a way.

HOWEVER I did see a bunch of reviews about how I would be super likely to pee on myself the first time using it and then used it and went “wow I don’t have any idea what you guys are talking about this is easy” aaaaand... then peed on myself by accident. Gotta control your stream or things are going to overflow and you’re going to be really sad. And wet. And stinky. Thankfully I had the forethought to practice at home before actually doing this at work/public restrooms but be warned. Being that this is my first one I can’t say if this is common with all packers however I told several of my transmasc friends that do pack and use STP about this experience and they all assured me they did the exact same thing on and off for the first couple weeks and most of them do not have the same brand. We’ve yet to have a repeat at least?

Plus there’s a little attachment rod so I can use it for sexy times with the boyf and also feel what I’m doing to him so there’s that too. 10/10 A+ experience would recommend. The packaging warns you to be careful how you pack because of the way the silicone works, and your partner cannot be on top or ride you, so keep that in mind if you’re considering it. Cleaning is pretty straightforward however and packing feels correct and natural as long as you follow a few rules:

I’ve discovered that whatever size you consider a perfect fit? Unless you like really relaxed fit for your pants, you’ll need to go a size up. I wear tighter clothing and usually skinny jeans at that, and my exact perfect size has been 34/32 for some time now. When packing I need to go up to 36/32 because otherwise wow that crotch is way too tight. I can’t sit down in one of my pairs of jeans and I’m legit sad about it. I also can’t have anything in the pockets of a different pair of jeans or else I have the same tight crotch problem. I went up a size in underwear and that was more comfortable, so I ordered new pants from online and I’ll see if that helps as much as I’m expecting it too.

Speaking of underwear, ymmv, but I genuinely did not expect this. Jockstraps? Super comfy, super durable, and super convenient. Additionally unlike boxers or even briefs, I don’t need a special packing-specific design to be comfortable in one. I never wore one before and honestly this doesn’t even feel like wearing underwear. They’re really just a banana hammock anyway so that’s probably a large part of it, but honestly I would definitely recommend trying them if you haven’t yet. I do have a few pairs of packing briefs and boxers, as well as normal briefs and boxers, and I’ve been alternating between the various types of undies to see which ones I prefer, but I already know my decision so I bought several because I can. One word of advice, though... if your pants ride down understand that your entire butt will be out. I don’t wear low rise pants because they draw too much attention to my waistline and make me super dysphoric, but those that do, watch out.

Jockmail is highly rated and multiple transmasc websites recommend them for packing and I can absolutely see why. Usually the waistband of my underwear irritates my skin and so I was dubious because Jockmail stuff- being that it’s for athletic wear- has a minimum waistband of about 2in... but it’s actually more comfortable and less irritating, rather than the other way around. They also have briefs, boxers (more like short shorts), and boxer briefs, which I also have of the same brand, but... not as comfy. Once again Jockmail is a Hong Kong company so like all East Asian clothes, they run small. I’m a M in most men’s clothing sizes... I am XXL in Jockmail. I also had purchased a brief harness from PeeCock (goes by inches for waist) as well. (Also where I discovered you need to go a size up- I bought a 34in waist brief from PeeCock and it’s a tad tight. I bought a 36in waist brief from Jockmail and it’s perfect. I have been buying 34in waist things for the past few years now- I didn’t suddenly gain 2 inches at the waist, I did suddenly gain a need for a deeper crotch)

If you look down your body from above it will be super obvious that there is a dick there and you will go “oh god I look like I have an erection”. I have been reliably informed that it is actually not true and if you pack correctly a bulge will be there but not so obvious that it looks like you have a raging hardon the whole time. Better to look in the mirror, rather than down your tummy.

(Additionally I voiced my doubts to my boyf who immediately reminded me that most people don’t spend their time staring at someone’s crotch and as long as I wasn’t constantly messing with mine, no one was likely to notice even if I did have an obnoxiously obvious bulge. He then gave me some tips on how to let it hang if I wanted a “natural” look, and when we walked around while I had it on he made sure to check in on my mental health. He’s cute y’all.)

Some (cis) guys will have a specific leg they like to let things hang against. Some switch it up. Some are okay with it hanging straight down provided there’s not a lot of squish happening. Find what feel comfortable and needs the least amount of adjustment for you, and then stick with that. For me, I’ve found straight down or off to the left feels better- a friend of mine prefers off to the right, another straight down only, etc. Also can depend on the size- some (cis) guys I know are a bit smaller down below and are more comfortable with straight down than those with larger weiners.

If you pack you probably need to shave. I was very uncomfortable until I shaved. Now I feel much better packing. So trim that jungle or else you might feel a pinch every few minutes when a hair gets pulled.

And there you have me this morning before I got dressed. As you can see, both fit very nicely. I’m not particularly happy with my stomach or feminine hip set but eh, I cover those with layers and no one bats an eye.

At this point it’s figuring out the whole hormones thing, yelling at my insurance to cover certain surgeries, and... fixing some minor details with my wardrobe... and I’m feeling way more confident than I was a few years ago.

Anyway if anyone has questions feel free to hit me up

[nyupreservation]

How to Make a Box: Part 1

This is the first of a two part series. This post gives instructions for making the trays for a drop spine box. Part two, posted later this week, will go over constructing the case and completing the box.

One way I have been spending my time working from home is practicing making drop spine boxes. The rehousing project I am working on uses these types of boxes, and while they are not being made in-house, I will be making them for a couple items.

I have only ever made one box like this, back in school. The how-to had seeped away over the years, so fellow conservator Lou Di Gennaro took me through the steps again. The instructions he gave me came from the North Bennet Street School and can be found over on the BPG Wiki. Though the instructions are out there for anyone to find, I thought it could be helpful to actually see the process.

What you’ll need: - Board: We generally use 98 point board, though my supply at home is slightly thinner. You’ll need enough to make two trays, a case, and a spine piece. - Cloth: You’ll need enough cloth to cover the trays of the box as well as the case. You can use a couple colors or just one. -Bone or teflon folder -PVA -Some weights -Ruler

At home, I have a small assortment of supplies, including a stack of pre-cut binders board. I picked a smallish book off my shelf that fit the pre-cut size closest--not having a board shear at home, this would limit the amount of cutting board by hand I would have to do to get everything to the right size.

The first step is to measure the book. The instructions on the BPG Wiki have calculations you can use for that, and it is explained there better than I can type up here. Some people also just go off the book in hand, which is what I did for this exercise. I measured the three dimensions of the book--height, width, and depth/thickness. I made sure to take the measurements at the widest part of the book so the box wouldn’t be too tight.

The next step is to cut board for the trays.  You’ll need two trays - one tray that fits your book (lower tray), and one that’s slightly bigger (upper tray). For the lower tray where your book will sit, the base just needs to be about the height and width of the book, but leave a smidge of extra room for the cloth covering and adhesive. You’ll need two walls for the head and tail that will be the width of your book and the thickness of your book plus one board thickness. Because the book will be sitting on a board and these walls will be flush with the bottom, you need that extra thickness measurement.

The longer wall on the fore edge will have that extra board thickness added to the depth measurement as well. The length of this wall will be the length of the lower tray plus two board thicknesses, as it needs to be slightly longer than the base. The head and tail walls will attach to it to form the corners of the tray, so you need the extra.

For the base board of the upper tray, add 2 board thicknesses to the height and 1 to the width to account for the walls and cloth covering. For the walls of the larger tray, add 1 ½  board thicknesses to the depth. If you find yourself making a lot of boxes, and you’ll be using the same board, adhesive, and cloth, you can create a jig to help you with all these measurements.

To assemble the trays, put PVA on the edges of the large tray piece, and attach the walls. The head and tail walls will also get some PVA on the edge where they meet the fore edge wall.

Use a bone folder to work in any excess PVA, and the tape up the exterior corners with blue tape to help it hold as it dries, then repeat on the other tray.

Once dry, take the tape off and sand the corners. The tape may take a little of the board with it when you remove it, so sanding can help smooth out the surface. It’s also a good idea at this point to check the fit of your trays. If it’s off, it’s a whole lot easier to take it apart and start over at this stage! Make sure your book fits in the assembled smaller tray, and that the larger one fits over the smaller.

Next, you’ll need to cut the cloth to cover the trays. Before you start, plan out your cloth! I had limited supplies of cloth at home, so I had to be careful I had enough to cover the trays and to do the case covering afterwards. I did two-tone, where the cloth for your trays is a different color than the cloth for your case, partly because of my limited supplies, but also because it looks fun.

To measure the cloth, be sure to square one side, and then give yourself a margin for turn ins. I just used the width of a ruler, about one inch on the left side and top of my cloth. Then take one of your trays, and measure head, fore edge, and tail by rolling the tray along the cloth, then mark the end and give yourself another inch margin on the other side.

The height of the cloth should be three measurements of the depth of the tray. Do the same measurements for the other tray, and be sure to label which piece of cloth is for which tray.

Once you have the cloth cut, you can adhere it to the lower tray. Put PVA on the exterior of all sides, then press it onto the cloth and begin to roll. Be sure to hold the tray with the interior facing you as you go.

Really work the cloth onto the tray as you go, smoothing with your bone folder and getting rid of any air bubbles. You want the cloth to be tight around the tray.

When the cloth is securely on the tray, it will be hard for it to sit on your table. To help with this, you can snip the covering at the bottom corners. Just gather the cloth with your fingers and snip at an angle. Don’t get too close to the tray, as you want to make sure the cloth still covers the corner.

Repeat this process on the upper  tray.

To continue covering the trays, there are a series of cuts that need to be made to the cloth so it will fold over correctly. This is the diagram from the BPG Wiki/North Bennet Street School instructions that I used to learn:

I know these diagrams look confusing! Hopefully seeing them in practice will help.

The back corner cuts are pretty straightforward so I like to start there. You just need to cut the cloth here so that it can fold over the walls and adhere to the interior without bunching up at the corners.

For the cloth that will be covering the top of the tray:

And for the cloth on the bottom:

Once all the cuts are made, you can adhere everything with PVA. This is where the cuts start to make more sense and you can see the purpose for each little one.

Next, you’ll add some cloth the size of the missing center area, so the surface of the tray is a more uniform thickness. Some people do a bit of mitering throughout this process, to ensure that the entire surface of the tray has just one layer of cloth. I haven’t done that in my example, as I feel it just adds another layer of confusion for this exercise and on a box this size the overlap is minimal.

The cloth you add to the center here can be any color.  It doesn’t have to match because it gets covered later on. Though I should note that if you’re using a lighter color like me here, you probably don’t want to go with such a dark green, because it is still somewhat visible under the next layer of light colored cloth! I learned that one the hard way.

Next, cover the base of the tray again with your original cloth color. It needs to be the size of the base of your tray, with a bit overhanging.

Do this for the other tray, then hooray! Your trays are all done. It’s a good idea to let the trays sit for a little while and let everything dry. Which makes this a good place to take a break. Check back Thursday to see how to make the case of this box and put it all together!

[readbeneaththelines]

His Possession Pt. 3

A/N: Debts are collected, one way or the other. Unfortunately, you were the collection for your father’s debt.

Yoongi is ruthless, cunning, and obsessive.

Characters: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings’ violence, language

this chapter has an extra warning: Rough handling of reader. please read with caution.

Word Count: 4536

This is NSFW, PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.

The door opened, letting bright white light fill the small room. “Wake up. You have five minutes to go to the bathroom.” whoever it was barked orders at you as you rubbed your eyes. You body was stiff and sore, begging you to go back to sleep. “What time is it?” you mumbled as you sat up. “Five thirty AM, now get up, you’re down to four minutes” 

You scrambled to your feet, hurriedly walking out the door as he led you to the bathroom. If your memory served you correctly, this was Jin, the one you threw up on in the van. He was tall, his broad shoulders making him stand out from the others. You entered the small bathroom, your bladder painfully full. Once you emptied it, you washed your hands and face, using your shirt to dry yourself off. “A hand towel would be nice” you muttered under your breath as you made your way to the door. Jin was still standing there, leaned up against the wall.

“What happened to Hoseok last night?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s going to live, but not so sure about the walking good part. Now follow me.” with that, he turned and was making his way down yet another hallway. You had to nearly jog to keep up with his long strides as he led you up a narrow stairwell and into a larger bedroom. “There’s a bathroom with a shower, and the closet has clothes that should fit you fairly well. Now get ready, he doesn’t like people to be late for any meal. I’ll be right outside the door, so don’t even think about trying to run” He gave a lopsided grin then left you alone. As soon as the door shut, you were running for the shower, stripping off your clothes along the way. 

You thought your bathroom was large, but this one made yours pale in comparison. There was an enormous walk-in shower that had jets lining all four walls and a showerhead that hung above you. You reached for the glass knobs turning the water on full blast. Steam billowed within the frosted glass enclosure, the jets hitting every inch of your aching body. You stood still, letting the hot water caress you and massage your tired, sore muscles. There was a new loofah and new bodywash on the built in shelf. You opened it, inhaling the delicate scent deeply. You scrubbed your skin until it was reddened, mentally trying to wash away the nightmare that was now your reality. You reached for the shampoo that, when opened, reminded you of your own, the aroma carrying your mind back to your home. Glancing at the label, you noticed it was the same kind you used. Hot tears began running down your cheeks, only to be washed away by the water that shrouded you. You lowered yourself to the ground as streams of water poured over you, your body trembling and shaking as agonizing sobs racked your body. When the water began to cool, you forced yourself up, turning the water off and opening the door. Grabbing a towel that was laying on a small stool, you wearily dried off then wrapped it around you. Taking another towel, you twisted it around your head in a turban and went to the mirror. The small cut on your cheek looked better than it did last night, the gash smaller than you thought. 

After examining your puffy red eyes, you made you way to the closet. You quickly wondered how he had clothes that would fit you, but let it pass without much more than a fleeting thought. Turning on the light, you were greeted with row after row of different clothes. There were dresses, delicate blouses, dressy pants and evening wear along one side. The other side held more casual clothes, lounge pants, shorts, tanks and dressy tees. On the back wall were several rows of shoes. You opted for a light linen pair of wide legs pants, a loose tank top and slides. Walking back into the bedroom, you laid the clothes out on the bed. Searching the large dresser, you managed to find new lingerie that still had the tags on them. At closer inspection, you realized they were your exact size. You wondered how he knew what size you wore, let alone your favorite brand. 

You removed the towel that covered your body, only to pull it close when you heard the door open. 

“You have ten minutes, Y/N. I would suggest that you not be late to breakfast.” Yoongi stood in the doorway, looking fresh and rested. He wore a light grey pair of dress pants with a pale blue button down shirt. His silvery-white hair was slightly tousled but perfectly placed at the same time. His eyes were brighter, almost friendly, as he spoke to you.

“Gah! I’m trying to get dressed!” You yelled, embarrassed at your predicament. There you were, stood naked and only covered partially by a towel. “Leave, please, so I can get dressed!” you huffed when he simply shrugged his shoulders and turned around. “Nine minutes” he uttered as he walked away. You let out a sigh as he closed the door and left. Hurriedly, you got dressed, running the towel over your still damp hair. Nimbly, your fingers worked your strands into a loose braid as you walked to the door. When you opened it, you found Jin sitting in a chair in the hallway. “Good, we still have four minutes to get to breakfast.” was all he said as he led you to the dining hall. Centered in the middle of a vastly huge dining room was a long oak table. Five of the men were seated around the table, Yoongi at the head. Jin pulled out a chair for you at Yoongi’s right hand, then took his own seat across form you. All eyes were on you as you nervously fidgeted with your hands. “Gentlemen, lets greet our guest.” Yoongi ordered, and all six of them echoed in unison as they greeted you. “Good morning Y/N.”  You bowed your head in response, then looked to Yoongi. “Thank you for allowing me to shower and providing me some clothes.” He nodded to you, a soft smile on his lips. “Now, everyone dig in, we have a busy day ahead of us. You sat in silence, nearly inhaling your meal, as the men talked about what they had planned for the day. There were meetings with other families, names which you knew, and other collections to obtain. You choked when this was mentioned. All eyes turned in your direction as your coughed. “Collections?” You asked? “As in, like I was?  A debt collection?” A round of chuckles filled the space and you felt your cheeks heat as you blushed. 

“Ehem. Men, we do not need to be rude. She asked a valid question.” Looking  to his right, he focused on you. “Yes, as in like we collected you. Hopefully these will go better than yesterday’s. I prefer not to handle things the way I had to with your parents.” 

At the mention of your parents, tears welled up in your eyes and you were instantly nauseous. You couldn’t hide the tears as they fell down your face, dropping onto your plate. “You know I will never forgive you for what you did.” you muttered, refusing to look back at him. “You took everything from me, my home, my life, my family. I have nothing because of your so-called collection process.” Your voice began to rise as anger filled you. “I will never be whatever you want me to be, I will refuse to give you the satisfaction of being kind to you. You’re a murderous asshole, and I will make your life as miserable as you have made mine!” You rose from your seat, but were pulled back down by Yoongi’s hand on your arm. 

“You will sit back down, and you will either finish your meal or sit there quietly, do you understand me?” You jerked back, trying to free yourself from his grasp, but your attempt was futile as his fingers dug in. You were forced back into your seat, and once you were seated, his grip relaxed. “Young lady, allow me to make something very clear to you. Look at me.” His voice raised a few decibels, causing you to flinch.

“Do you know what you father did? Why you were so privileged growing up? Did you think he was an honest hard working family man?” you nodded as you looked at him through blurry eyes.

“Well, let me tell you the kind of man your father really was.” He pushed his chair away from the table, leaning back against it. The other men followed suit, their arms crossing their chests as they relaxed. 

“You father was the head of one of the Geondal Families here in Busan. He was a hyungnim, Y/N, just like my father and me.He too was a murderous asshole, as you like to call us. Do you remember growing up with people always around. Wives talking and children playing while the men had drinks in his office? What did you think they were doing in there, talking about the weather?” Your eyes widened at the information Yoongi was divulging. “You father, the man you so idolized, was the very man that took my father from me. He convinced my father to let him work side by side with my father, in order to pay off his debt, my father would get a percentage of the takes. My father was a forgiving man, too kind at times, and agreed. You father, your perfect little daddy, set a trap and had my father killed in order to erase the debt. That was the kind of man your daddy dearest was.” 

All you could do was stare in disbelief at what Yoongi was saying. “It’s not true, you’re lying!” you screamed as you rose to your feet. Not knowing where you were going, you stormed out of the dining hall, running aimlessly through the mansion.

“Tae, go find her, and bring her to my study please.” Yoongi ordered as he got up and left. The other men rose and bowed as he left, scattering to get the day started. Tae went to a small office where several monitors displayed the mansion’s interior and exterior. He spotted you sitting on the very couch you were first seated in when you arrived yesterday. He watched for a moment as you cried, loud wails tearing from your lungs. With a sigh, he made his way to you, carefully opening the large heavy doors. He came to stand beside you, not disturbing your grieving process.

“Miss, I know it’s a lot to take in, but you had to know the truth of what kind of person your father really was.” he said softly. 

“My father was not that kind of person. He was kind and loving. He took care of my mother and me. He always had a smile on his face. He just couldn’t be the man that was just described to me.” your voice broke, shaking through the tears and pain your heart was feeling. “How could the man I knew be the person he described?” 

Taehyung looked down on you. He understood what you were feeling. Yoongi’s father took him in when a ruthless mafia murdered his family too. He was young when he was orphaned, and Yoongi grew up along with him. They were friends and Taehyung knew the real person Yoongi was, not the face he was showing you.

“I know it’s hard to accept, Miss. But you were bound to find out eventually, one way or another. My boss wanted revenge for his father.” You looked up at him, shaking your head. “So, he thinks that by killing my parents and taking me, his revenge has been dealt? There had to be another way, there just had to be.” 

Taehyung stayed by your side until your tears subsided to hiccups and sniffles. When you were finally calm, he proffered his hand to help you up. “He wants to see you in his study. It would be in your best interest to do as he says. He can be kind, but when he someone doesn’t do as he asked, he will make sure to teach them not to do it twice.”  Reluctantly you rose to your feet and followed him slowly to the study. Taehyung knocked on the door waiting for the okay to enter.

“Come in” he heard and swung the doors open. Before you, at a large desk, sat Yoongi. His feet were resting on the corner and his chair reclined. The morning sunlight drifted in, surrounding him in a soft halo of light. Opening one of his closed eyes, he motioned with a nod for you to sit down. “Thank you Tae, you are dismissed. Make sure the others are ready to go when I say.” Taehyung bowed as he answered. “Yes sir.” When you were both alone, Yoongi closed his eyes again as you sat across the desk from him. “So, did I distort your precious view of your dear father? And, to answer your question, yes my revenge has fairly been dealt.”

"The man you described, that wasn't my father. I never saw my father raise a hand to anyone, he never yelled at my mother or me." 

You sat there, fumbling with the hem of you top. A silent feel between you two, his eyes still closed as it he had fallen asleep. The sound of his voice startled you when he spoke. 

"I know it's hard to accept the fact that your dear old dad was not who you thought he was. That's the horrible truth that you need to know, that he was not all sunshine and roses. You were done an inservice, by him not letting you know what kind of life you were born into. Maybe, if you had known, you would see it for what it is. A debt being paid for murder and theft.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and suddenly tight. The way he was so aloof about describing everything was very off-putting, and it made your head throb and your stomach turn flips. “But why my mother? What was her part in all of this that you had to take her life too?” He finally opened his eyes, turning in his chair to sit up and look at you for the first time since you entered. His gaze mad you nervous, causing you to squirm in your seat uncomfortably. 

“You mother, let’s see, how can I tell you her part? She knew of everything your father did. She was best friends with my mother. Our families ate together several times in the beginning. Before you came along that is. She lied to my mom when she knew all to well that your family wasn’t going to pay back the debt they owed. She had knowledge of what your father had planned for mine, yet she didn’t say a word. She was just as guilty. Also, I couldn’t have you mother still living when I killed you father. She wold have other families getting involved in business that wasn’t theirs to begin with. She was just a ruthless as you father, and she knew the consequences of her actions.”  You were not aware of the tears that were, for the hundredth time in twenty-four hours, running wet down your cheeks, until you could taste the saltiness as one fell on your lips. Yoongi’s eyes fell to your mouth as you licked the tears away with a swipe of your tongue. It was his turn to swallow hard. “I’m not heartless, Y/N. I wanted revenge for my father’s death. I wanted to make things even. Your father took away my family first, nearly taking me with them.” You watched with bated breath as Yoongi stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling the shirt aside, you saw a long scar than ran from his waist and then up around to his back. It had faded, as most scars to with age, but it was still quite noticeable against his tanned skin. 

“This is what I have as a daily reminder that your parents tried to kill my entire family off because your parents were greedy.” He buttoned his shirt back up, tucking the hem back into his pants. You looked at him, eyes wide with a mixture of shock, fear, and sorrow. You had no inkling of what your family was capable of, and that scared you. What other secrets were kept from you? More so, what facts did Yoongi know? 

“When did this happen? I mean my family taking yours away from you?” You lowered your head, somehow ashamed at what you had learned about you mother and father. 

I was fifteen.  Our families had taken a trip together, you were still back home with a nanny probably. We had all gone out on one of the yachts, me on the deck listening to music. Your mother made an excuse of not feeling well that day, and so your parents stayed behind as my parents and I went sailing. The only thing I really remember, was being thrown off the boat from the explosion. A piece of torn metal stabbing my side as I hit the water. Our yacht had been planted with an explosive, that took my parents instantly and left me to die in the water. Thankfully, a nearby boat found me. The rest is history, so to speak. From the moment I woke up, I made it my vow to pay your family back. I watched every move they made, even the slightest detail did not go unnoticed. For twelve years, I have planned, executed and taken back what was rightfully ours. That was until the time finally came to collect in full. That final payment being you, little girl.

“I am not a little girl! Nor am I a princess! Right now I am an orphan, all thanks to you and your men, who in fact, seem to have a problem following your order completely” Your voiced raised as you pointed to the wound on your face and the red handprint on the other. “If you recall, they didn’t deliver me unharmed.” You were to your feet before you realized what you were doing. Yoongi watched with flat affect as you leaned forward, your hands laid on the desk and you leaned forward. “Mak my words Min Yoongi. I will never let you own me. I will never be the complacent little pet you think you have. I would rather suffer beatings and torture, than have you think I am yours.” Instinct took over, your hand rising then falling in a sideways motion as your hand come in contact with him. Horror spread throughout you as it sunk in what you had done. Dread making your heartbeat faster as you remembered his last warning when you struck him. 

"I will break you, destroy that fire you think you have, and you will be nothing when I am done with you. Mark my words, little girl, you are going to regret what you just did."

You fell back into you seat as you watched Yoongi rise from his. His eyes told you everything you were dreading was very valid and true. Rubbing the side fo his face tenderly, he made his way around the desk, coming to a standstill beside you. 

“I warned you what would happen the last time you struck me. I was almost, almost, going to let it slide. But you had to go and act all tough and brave.”  Crouching down, he made his eyes level with yours. You tried to look away, but he held your jaw firmly in his grip. “That bravado, that untamed spirit you have, is going to be tampered and tame when I am through with you. You act all brave now, but when I am finished with you, you will be a complacent little pet. Mark my words, Y/N. I don’t play petty games, and I always carry through with my promises. You should believe me on that.” With a flick of his wrist, you head was quickly turned aside as he let go of your jaw. You heard him snicker down at you when he saw your body trembling. “You should be scared, little girl.” 

You held on to the arm of the chair with deathgrips, your knuckles turning white and your fingers going numb. Even though he spoke calmly, the way he looked at you had you nearly scared for you life. “Are-are you going to kill me like you killed my parents?” you asked through clenched teeth. His laugh filled the room, which had you wondering what you had said that was so funny. 

“Kill you? No. That would defeat my plan. Like I have told you over and over, I own you. You’re mine now, and I like keeping my possessionis around.” The way he said that had you frozen in your seat, unable to move or speak. 

“I see that flicker of your fire already dying out. Maybe you’ll learn to keep your hands to yourself from now on.” He stood back up, lifting you by your chin to make you look at him. “I’m a very dangerous man when I need to be. Im possessive, and slightly obsessive, when I want something. Don’t test my patience, and don’t push my kindness. Do you know what I mean?” With a half nod, you silently answered him. “Get up, we have things to do today, and you are going to be with me the entire time.”

Lifting your body from the limited security of the chair, you stood toe to toe with him. You turned your head up, looking at him through damp lashes. For a moment his featured softened before flashing back into the hard lines that etched the corners of his mouth and eyes. When he walked away, you were quick to follow, not letting him think you were already going to test him.

Yoongi led you from the study, you hot on his trail. You came back to the bedroom that you had showered in, giving her a perplexed look. "May I ask you something?" He nodded. " How did you know my size? And what body wash I used?" 

"I told you, I've had twelve years to plan my revenge. I know almost everything about you, Y/N.  The only things I don’t know are, what makes you tick and what you didn’t know about your family.” 

You thought about that. What you had learned this morning, was in stark contrast to what you thought you knew of your family. To learn that the two people that showered you with love and affection, were the same people who could heartlessly kill another family with a child. Did they ever consider the fact that the same thing could have happened to them, to you? You would never know now. Strangely, a small part of you understood his need for vindication. Who’s to say that you wouldn’t do the same thing if someone killed your parents and nearly yourself. Anger can drive people to do scary things, pain can lead people down a dark and dangerous path. You were reeled back to the present by his voice. 

“Did you hear a word I just said?” he asked, tuning you to face him. “Hmm? No, sorry I didn’t. What did you say?” you tried to hide the guilt in your eyes and he seemed to dismiss it. “I told you to get yourself fixed up, I have things to do, and you’re going with me.” When you didn’t move, he took your hand and led you into the room. Sitting you down on the side of the bed, he went to the closet, taking several minutes to pick out an outfit for you that would be fitting for what he had planned today. He had first decided that you needed some sort of closure. Even though he had taken everything you had known away from you, he felt that you needed something from your own home to have. Then he had a few meetings with other families to handle some business. You were his and he wanted to show you off to the other men and their wives. After that he had a dinner gathering planned and you would be by his side there too. 

“Put this on, and hurry. I hate being late.” He took a seat, and you just stood there staring down at him.” You expect me to change in front of you? I think not. Now if you’d please excuse yourself, I’ll get ready.” He shook his head and continued to stay where he had planted himself. “Don’t think for a minute that I’m going to trust you by yourself unless your in your little room downstairs. I know your thinking of ways to get out of here, and I for   one, will not give you that opportunity. You sighed, resigned to the fact that he was going to watch you change and you couldn’t say anything about it. 

Turning your back to him, you began to get undressed. You could feel his eyes on you, watching every move you made. When you were stripped down to the lingerie, you heard a sharp intake of breath coming from his direction. “Like what you see?” you asked over your shoulder. “Mmhmm” he replied all to quickly. “Too bad. You’ll never get to touch any of this.” you smirked to yourself as you quickly changed into the form hugging dress he had picked out. You bent over, slipping your feet into the low heels he had picked out. A cough made you laugh to yourself, knowing he was getting an eyeful of your ass in his face. “Watch were you put that thing, it might get you in trouble, princess.” You shook your head as you stood and faced him. “Please stop calling me princess or little girl. I’m not much younger than you, and I am far from the princess mentality. I don’t expect everything to be handed to me. What I do expect, is to be treated with respect and not treated as a pet or a commodity."

"Well then, since we're on the topic, here's what I expect. I expect you to not hit me again, for any reason. I expect you to do as you're told. The better you listen, then better you'll be treated. And like it it not, you are my pet, in a way." He raised an eyebrow, expecting you to retort. Instead you simply sighed, waiting on him. "I'm ready, can we get on with today now?" 

"So impatient, but yes, we can get going." He guided you through the vast expanse of hallways to the front door. Out front was driver waiting for both of you.

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