#thankfully though after some work trying to get him more comfortable w/ the crate

[queercatboyrights]

exhausted,,,,cannot wait,,,,to sleep,,,,I have forgotten just how high energy puppies are

[regrettablewritings]

Preference: You Move In Together

Characters: Tadashi Hamada, Dewey Finn, Diana Prince, Cassian Andor, Clark Kent

Tadashi Hamada

It started out with a kiss – how did it end up like this?

“This” being you holding a flashlight as high up as your crossed arms would let you as you bemusedly watched your boyfriend fiddle with the generator. Though, you already knew that answer: You two had finally settled down to relax and watch a movie (a little treat for getting through your third day of moving into your new apartment), when a flickering light coming from the kitchen began to distract you from your peripheral. Ever the assure-er, your beloved boyfriend insisted it wasn’t anything serious, that it could easily wait until the morning, and give you a kiss of comfort for good measure. But no: It could not wait until morning. It would not wait until morning.

Instead, whatever was going on waited until the climax of the movie to decide to blow the power out, plunging you both into a well of darkness. You groaned loudly, realizing that this meant the both of you would have to wait until morning to get somebody out here to check it out.

“Why wait?” Tadashi asked. “You have one of SFIT’s finest living with you!”

Surprisingly, robotics and electrical engineering were not quite the same – even one of SFIT’s finest could (and did) find himself struggling to figure out what the problem was.

And for as bemused as you were about the entire situation . . . some part of you couldn’t help but find the tiniest kernels of enjoyment in it. It was that part of you that knew that, a couple years in the future, this would be looked upon as a sweet moment. One of those moments older couples remember when looking back on how far they’d come together.

You two had only been moved in to your apartment for less than a month and already your lives felt so full of potential memories: From Tadashi attempting to make “the first breakfast of the rest of your lives” (and subsequently setting off your kinda crappy fire alarm); to you slipping down the stairs on your butt and thus earning his light taunts as he inspected the damage; to the both of you waking up to find your inflatable mattress had deflated overnight after only two nights of sleeping on it.

Your lives felt so full . . . yet it was clearly only the beginning. And that was certainly something to look forward to. Well, that, and having dependable electricity.

“Okay!” you heard Tadashi exclaim, rising up from his previous position. You didn’t need to direct the flashlight at his face to know that he was sporting that confident smile of his. “This time, I think I’ve got it. ‘And the Lord said --” He positioned his finger on the switch. “ ‘Let there be light!’” And with that, he gave it a victorious flip.

Nothing. Still darkness. The only thing that changed was that the silence was now awkward and well-earned. It was only broken by a single clap of hands.

“. . .  You craving McNuggets? I’m craving McNuggets.”

You blinked. “McNug -- Tadashi, it’s almost midnight.”

“McNuggets, (Y/N)! Let’s go! We can pick up donuts after!” Tadashi insisted, gently pushing you towards the coat closet to retrieve a jacket. In the hustle and bustle, you gave up trying to stay unimpressed about the entire evening: You simply had to let out a laugh.

“Oh, Tadashi,” you sighed as you shook your head slowly, though not completely without adoration.

Yeah, you were both in it for the long run. And if you had known this sort of thing would happen, you still would’ve chosen him to be with. After all, if this kept up, your lives would be truly full before you knew it.

Dewey Finn

Statistically speaking, Staten Island is the cheapest borough to live in. However, New York is still New York. Meaning that you two are the very image that comes to mind when someone thinks about a young couple trying to make it work: The apartment is small; the walls aren’t paper-thin per se, but let’s just say you’d made cardboard club houses from sturdier stock; the quality of certain utilities isn’t exactly stellar, either, given that it was the best the two of you could afford; and you were both in positions that didn’t normally pay especially well in terms of making six figures.

And yet you both were pretty satisfied with the living situation.

Sure, moving your stuff in together was like playing life-size Tetris (with the added “bonus” of having to pick and choose what would be moved into storage and what you’d have to just give away). But after you got into the groove of things, it seemed to pale in comparison to the lives you’d begun to develop as a cohabiting couple.

For one, this was the first time in a long while where Dewey had actually lived in a clean/livable living space. Maybe not pristine, but there had been an established regimen of sorts: Dishes would be cleaned (even if begrudgingly) amongst the two of you; trash was taken out instead of left to grow into a mountain of pizza boxes and soda bottles and whatnot; and for the first time since he’d left his ma’s house, the mattress lay upon an actual box spring rather than a bunch of milk crates filled with records.

Completing the picture of the young struggling pre-famous by way of Dewey becoming a rock god couple was the assortment of Struggle Meals™ that had become a part of your day-to-day lives. Sure, you tried to eat healthy, but let’s be real: Cooking can be such a pain in the ass. It took a while, but you eventually had to agree for the betterment of your budgets to limit eating out to the weekends every other weekend. Until then, weird salads and Chili Mac and crockpots full of “let’s see what happens when we throw all this stuff in because their best by dates are coming and we kinda need to not waste this shit” stew would have to hold you guys over.

And yet, it wasn’t all bad.

There would be nights when Dewey would be on a song-writing kick up until one or chord would stump him, or nights where you’d have to bring paperwork home and you would begin to contemplate the consequences of just flinging it out the window. In moments like those, you were one anothers’ biggest cheerleaders.

You would continue to be one of the only people that could get Dewey to take a break, insisting that maybe going on a walk might help or maybe he can stop for a moment and just join you for a couple rounds of Mario Kart. And he would fix you up your favorite tea or, in turn, insist that you take a break before you slammed your face into the wall. It rarely actually mattered what one did for the other in that specific moment because no matter what it was, it was all the other needed to get over that roadblock.

And then there were those quiet moments . . . Dewey was never a quiet person, never really was into the quiet. But when you two moved in together, he sort of had to learn to respect those for your sake. And even though it was (and still can be) a bit of a struggle . . . you make it so much easier for him. Just by linking your hands together or running your fingers through his hair while you read. Or by rubbing his shoulders while you lounge behind him on the couch while he messes around with a lesson plan . . .

All in all, in some awkward yet beautiful way, you’re making in work. You try to take turns and share responsibilities, you both go and work your butts off to keep the lights on in this World’s Most Expensive Animal Cracker Box you call in apartment. It’s far from easy. But there’s just this massive feeling of satisfaction that hits the both of you when you come home after a long day of work, collapse on the couch, glance at each other with the most exhausted faces and go, “Wow, you look like shit.” Punctuated with a kiss, of course.

(Hey, it’s a Staten Island love story.)

Diana Prince

It all just sort of happened, really. There wasn’t any actual intention of you two living together-- at least, not at first. It had actually just started off with you coming over to Diana’s place just to house-sit whenever she had to go on a mission or even back home (after all, who better to watch her home than her beloved). Of course, this didn’t occur too often at first: She’d mostly retired from the vigilante life by the time you two had established anything. But once Bruce gathered up the Metahumans for a common cause, Diana’s need for you to come by became more frequent. So of course that meant you stayed over more often -- which, of course, meant you would have to make yourself right at home.

When Diana found an article of your clothing mixed in with her own laundry, though, that was when it occurred to her that perhaps it might be more beneficial for you to just stay there. Without the whole going back to your place bit.

You never pushed for it before: After all, for as loving as she was, Diana was still a woman who needed her space, given her history. You felt honored enough that she deemed you worthy of sharing her secret with, you weren’t about to apply more pressure to her by demanding that she let you move in.

Thankfully, no regrets were had.

You felt such childish glee in the moments when you’d wake up and see your gorgeous girlfriend in the kitchen, boiling coffee -- you were actually a little embarrassed at first. But given that Diana was never one to hide her feelings, it didn’t take long for you to realize that she actually felt the exact same: With you around more frequently, the apartment felt far less lonely. Far more warm and welcoming.

It wasn’t just filled with "her" stuff because now it had "your" stuff -- as in things that belonged to the both of you now. And sure, it might've been just little things like desk plants or jello molds or gimmicky little mugs, but it didn't matter to her-- they were yours. Together. Like an actual unit!

There were discussions of comfort zones to avoid as many clashes as possible; you communicated with one another about what idiosyncrasies were and weren’t going to be potential problems and how to possibly combat those.

It wasn’t always perfect, of course, but neither of you would have traded it for anything after you became accustomed to your new living situation.

But the very best moments were when she’d come home after being gone with the League. Tired, sometimes even still in costume, she’d trudge into the apartment, right into the bedroom, before collapsing on the bed next to you. Even if the feeling of your Amazonian girlfriend crashing down didn’t wake you, the exhausted yet relieved sigh she’d release most definitely would. And every time that happened, the first thing you’d feel wouldn’t be irritation at being woken up: It would be excitement.

She’s home! you would cheer on the inside, even if your tired body wouldn’t portray as much excitement as you would try to sit upright to greet her.

“Welcome home,” you smiled every time, voice husky with sleep. And she would smile back. Tired, yes, but always with so much love.

“Hello, beloved,” she would greet. “How was your day?” She would ask this every time. And she would listen, no matter what you responded with.

It was a good life.

Cassian Andor

You fought in a war, you survived a deadly mission that turned the tide for the war, the war ended . . . Now what? You buy a home together.

Oh, if only it were so simple.

Neither you nor Cassian really had much of an idea of where to move to for starters. Sure, you talked a big game about the places you wanted to travel to and see for yourselves, but vacations seemed far more within reach than a milestone like moving in together. At one point, you humored the possibility of just traveling around to those places you’d marked and just settle down in one of them, but they were hardly places you could see yourselves actually living in.

But in the end, you picked Takodana: Lush, green, neutral. Cassian was admittedly hesitant at the idea of settling on neutral territory: To him, that would’ve been just as bad as going somewhere where they didn’t care that a war was happening. But you insisted upon it, voicing how perhaps the influence of a quiet life might rub off on him. Plus, it was hard for him to argue with how calm and quiet it all was. An adjustment from the bustle and yells of a rebel base as he had literally grown used to, but not an entirely unpleasant one.

He never knew that crickets could sound so soothing.

Really, the adjustment of moving in together came from the fact that it wasn’t moving into a small section of living quarters sanctioned by an army: It was an entire home, just for the two of you (and K2), surrounded by forests and near enough to civilization while still being far enough away to assure privacy.

It felt weird to Cassian, who’d spent virtually his entire life living with the opposite: Constantly surrounded by people, constantly surrounded by dust, near enough to others while simultaneously being . . . alone.

Only he wasn’t alone: He was alone with you. And that’s what made all the difference for him. Sure, he wasn’t going to entirely give up his insistence on investing in protective measures. And just because it was your home, didn’t mean you were allowed to slack off on the order of the pantry or how fabrics like towels were folded, as though you were tossing away years of mandated regimen.

But so long as he has you, his link to regaining his sense of self? Who Cassian Jeron Andor is without the war? He’s pretty sure he can make that leap and start his next mission: Starting a family together.

Clark Kent

You two liked to joke that it was done in order to better brave the ridiculous Metropolis housing market. Which wasn’t far from the truth, actually. But the reality clearly had more to do with the fact that moving in together, after being a couple for so long, just felt like the right thing to do. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the most mystical or romantic of reasons, but why complicate things? This was already a relationship composed of the Kryptonian alien who caused a calamity and the woman who helped to try and kill him for it.

The beautiful thing about your new living situation was that it was a unique blend of the mundane and the strange. Unique: You were living with Superman which meant that after a point, it became somewhat necessary for you to know how to clean his suit and cape in the event he couldn’t be home to do it himself. Mundane: Clark liked taking care of you, and that meant sometimes you woke up to breakfast in bed or came home to find that he’d run you a nice, hot bath.

Unique: Dusting and vacuuming high corners and hard-to-reach places was a thing of the past since Clark could easily lift the heaviest of furniture, lift you up himself, or even fly up to perform the task. Mundane: On some evenings, you two could just end the day by relaxing on the couch, you lying on your back as Clark rested his head on your tummy so that you had access to play with his curls. Unique and mundane: You now had the option of completing grocery bag trips in one go. It wasn’t advised due to the whole issue of discretion, but, like, at least the possibility was now there.

Mundanely unique: His fast metabolism meant that your fridge, freezer, and cabinets were stocked to the bring with snacks of all kinds. Uniquely mundane: Clark snored a bit in his sleep and as much as you loved him, no amount of love could make snoring cute.

But compared to everything else, you’d take it in a heartbeat. You never imagined yourself having a life quite like this, to say the least. But now you could never imagine yourself having anything different.

[haxorus-imp]

Alien Affections - Villainous/Reader - Chapter 14

"Flug! You bloody imbecile!" Black Hat snapped, as he observed Dementia laboring to breathe within the confines of her bed. Flug flinched at the words, while wringing his hands nervously and sweating bullets. Black Hat managed to get Flug out of his panic attack, with a lot of yelling and curses, while Flug had to breathe into a plastic bag to regulate his breathing. After all of the attempts to get Dementia to stand up, Flug was relieved to find out she was still alive, Black Hat finally made Flug drag her to her room and set her onto her bed. Which was a pain to do as her room was upstairs. He could still feel the pain in his back making its' presence known. Flug looked over to Dementia from her bedside. Thankfully, she was alive. Though, she appeared to be very sickly. As she was sweating profusely and her skin was pale and flushed in appearance. While also laboring to breathe, she would groan and twist and turn in her sheets. Her eyes closed in an uncomfortable squint and her muscles would spasm from time to time. Black Hat grumbled, taking in the sight with a displease grunt. "Just when I finally get my crew back on their feet, I'm stuck with another minion to take care of!" Black Hat growled, adjusting the cool rag that was currently on Dementia's forehead. Even when Black Hat touched her forehead, Dementia would barely acknowledge his presence, blinking her squinted eyes slowly. Which stated how seriously ill she was. As she's been down from injuries a couple of times before and when Black Hat would touch her or her wounds, she would always squeal. Not from the pain either. It was amazing, if Flug was honest. Dementia shares the DNA of a few reptiles. Mainly a tropical rainforest gecko. Dementia also had a higher resistance to poisons, venom, and toxins. As she shares certain anti-bodies with reptiles that are immune to certain poisons. Like neurotoxin for example. Seeing someone who has high tolerance to poison lying in bed and groaning in pain from the substance that Flug made seemed to send unseen shivers down his spine. Flug also fears that Black Hat will probe and ask questions. Which will ultimately decide the fate of his work. "I-I'm s-sorry! I forgot t-to lock the safe t-to my recent e-experiment, S-Sir!" Flug stuttered, trying to resist the shaking in his knees. Black Hat growled as he pinched the bridge of his nonexistent-nose once again. "Figures." Black Hat shook his head. "I expected things to go well for once and I get this instead. Could you both be anymore disappointing?" Black Hat observed Dementia's writhing form. "So, Flug. What happened before I arrived? What caused...this to occur?" Black Hat leered over his shoulder as he gestured to Dementia with his gloved hands. Flug flinched when his name came from his boss in that spiteful tone. Yet, it wasn't that particular piece of that sentence that made him dread what to say. It was the question itself. He couldn't lie to Black Hat. Less he winds up like you did the night you needed bandages and stitches. Black Hat was a good observer and he didn't appreciate liars. He was remarkably good at catching lies. Flug gulped. "It w-was a project of m-mine. A potent t-toxin." Flug admitted, as dwindled his thumbs. "Dementia g-got into the safe and s-stole the vial and d-drank all of its' contents. Which t-turned into this event." Flug explained. Black Hat hummed, observing Dementia with a careful visible eye. "And what did you use to make the potent poison that can make even Dementia writhe in pain?" Black Hat questioned, obviously interested. Flug gulped. "It...i-it....was...." Flug clammed up, much to the impatience of Black Hat. Who reached over and gripped Flug around his neck, squeezing tightly and lifting him slightly off of the ground. "I don't have much patience to deal with you right now, Flug." He growled, reaffirming his grip on Flugs' neck. Who grabbed at Black Hats' arm helplessly. "Spit it out." Black Hat menacingly leered and gritted his blue-green teeth as he gripped Flugs' neck tighter, who instinctively reached for his neck with his own yellow gloved hands and tried to pry them off, coughing at the excessive pressure on his throat. "It was blood! It was made with (Name)'s blood!" Flug squealed, coughing as Black Hat squeezed his skinny throat one more time, before letting him drop to the floor. In which Flug gasped and stumbled, trying to regain his balance. And his breath as well. Black Hat squinted his one visible eye in thought. "So. You made ground in your blood experiments and you didn't even bother to inform me?! Let alone, KEEP IT A SECRET?! FROM ME!!!?" Black Hat bared his teeth as his agitation with Flug peaked. Flug coward in fear and shielded his face with his arms, instinctively. Bracing for the impact of an object or a fist. Yet, he was confused when the violence didn't come. He peeked out from his protective arms and saw Black Hat with his hand on his chin and a thoughtful expression on his face. Flug cautiously lowered his defensive posture as Black Hat appeared to be lost in thought. 'He's not really thinking of...?' Flug suddenly came to a realization. Oh. His fears were confirmed as Black Hat had a glint in his eye and a much more sinister smile on his face. Oh no. "S-Sir! You're not thinking of...mass producing s-something that can do...this?!" Flug gestured to his ill comrade, Dementia. Black Hat merely hummed. Barely noticing Flugs' distress. "Flug, I want you to go back into the lab. Postpone all projects until further notice, we have a bigger project to work on." Black Hat ordered. "Huh, w-what?! What about Dementia!" Flug pointed out. Black Hat just shook his head. "5.0.5 will be in charge of taking care of her." Black Hat explained, as he tried to walk by Flug, but was surprised when Flug stood in the way to the exit. "Step aside, Flug." Black Hat warned. Flug was surprised by his own bravery in this moment in time, for he knew what Black Hat was capable of. Which were many painful or horrible things. Many which he has endured while he has been here. But, only he knows how dangerous this poison is. He has to try. "Black Hat! We can't mass produce this! It's too powerful! It'll cause catastrophic unrest in all of the communities if we release this! You have to listen to reason!" Flug stated, holding his ground, even if his legs were shaking violently. Black Hat approached. "I told you to..." He paused for a second, before he transformed his face into a fleshy and writhing monstrosity. Making his face take on the appearance of a deformed mass of hissing mouths, blinking eyes, and torn skin. "MOVE." Flug flinched and against his wishes, his legs automatically motioned him out of his boss's path to the exit. Flug looked down in submission as Black Hat passed by his still form. No words were exchanged any further as Black Hat left Dementia's room. Walking out silently, before disappearing and teleporting with the assistance of shadows. Flug suddenly collapsed and sat on the floor. His heart was racing and he could feel some tears gather at the edges of his eyes, yet they don't fall or dribble out of his eyes. He was more frustrated than anything at the moment. He was mad at himself. Angry at Black Hat. Stressed with Dementia. Everything. He knew Black Hat could be selfish, but this selfish? Was the money really worth causing international chaos and unrest? Flug slid his gloved hands up underneath his paper bag in exasperation. Rubbing his true face with his gloved hands. He knew that this would end badly. There's no happy ending when it comes to greed. Black Hat really must have a blackhole for a heart and a dense fog for a conscience. Flug let out a frustrated sob. People in masses were gonna die. He was the one that found the enzymes to make the poison. He was the one that decided to research your blood. Now everyone is in on Black Hats' plot of greed. And it's all his fault. Flug pulled out his gloved hands from underneath his bag and hugged his knees tightly. Listening to the sounds of Dementia's labored breathing and the quiet ticking of the Dolly Clock that was hanging on Dementia's wall was the only comfort Flug received. -- Once again, you were whisked away and thrown into a situation that you had no idea how to react to. You were just minding your own business as you went to go get yourself some lunch, after passing by 5.0.5 cleaning up some broken glass in the foyer, from what - you don't know, and just continued on your way to to kitchen. Suddenly, as you were about to head into the kitchen, your boss came walking toward you from further down the hall, much to your discretion, and suddenly grabbed your arm and dragged you along on his journey. All of your confused question were ignored as he brought you to the lab, much to your confusion. He pulled over a chair and forced you to sit down in it. Your confusion only grew when he suddenly disappeared in a cloud of black smoke and reappeared with Flug in his grip. Which shocked you. Then, he snapped his fingers and closed the lab door, locking it with a 'Click'. You weren't gonna lie, you were very freaked out at this sudden behavior. You looked at Flug, hoping to find answers, but he seemed to not make much eye contact with you. Adding onto the confusion. "Flug! Get the supplies we need for the transfusion!" Black Hat ordered to which Flug got up and nodded. Walking over to the crates that were lined near the lab walls. He was strangely quiet...what's going on? . . . . Okay, what the fuck. You just noticed that Black Hat was slightly petting your hair and head. If this wasn't freaky before, it is now. You attempt to stand up, only to have Black Hat quickly snap his fingers and summon shadow-like tendrils to forcibly hold you to the chair. Okay, this is getting scary. You could feel your heart racing, though you kept a cool exterior. Looking over to Black Hat, who was watching Flug gather some supplies. Yet, you could still feel his gloved hand trail through your hair still. Much to your displeasure. "I got the e-equipment, Sir." Flug stated as we walked over with a tray of items on one hand and dragging a pump behind him with the other. It seems to be equipment similar to those used for a blood transfusion. Syringes, plastic tubes, some clamps, and instead of a plastic bag, there was a two pint sized container with measuring lines going down the side of it and with a sealed lid on top with one plastic tube going into it that was sitting on the tray. He sat the tray down nearby and began to set up the station, attaching things to their needed components, and plugging up the pump. "Um...can someone tell me what's going on? I'm still clueless here." You asked, moving slightly as the shadows clenched you tighter to the chair when you moved. Flug just silently dabbed your arm with a familiar alcohol pad and prepped the needle for insertion. You flinched as you felt him touch around the area on your arm for a vein. You heard him flick on the pump and then felt a pinch in your arm. "Ow!" You cried out, as Flug finished attaching the needle to your arm with a sticky piece of gauze. Yet, you heard Flug mutter out a quiet 'sorry' as he did so. The tube then began to turn a deep read as blood began to flow through it and into the 2 pint container. It was painless, but strange. Considering both of their ominous behaviors. "It'll be about 20 minutes before the container is f-full, sir." Flug stated, looking at Black Hat, who was still touching your head, and he nodded. "Excellent. After this, I want you to recreate the poison." Black Hat ordered, completely ignoring the curious expression that crossed your face. "Yes sir." Flug replied, submissively. After a short bit, it was further along into the process, the 2 pint container was almost full and you still didn't have answers. Your questions went unanswered when you asked and they just kept working around you. Well, Flug was. Black Hat was still just creepily patting your head. All that you picked up as an answer was that Flug was to make a poison. Looking at the container that was filling with your blood, you had doubts that your blood could be used in poisons. Isn't that mostly for plants and things that are naturally toxic? Like snakes, fugu fish, and certain types of plants? You think so. So, the only other logical explanation is that Flug must be collecting this for research reasons. But why, though? Did he have an accident with your last blood sample? Was that what the shattered glass in the foyer was? Did he drop it and needed a replacement? That still doesn't explain why Black Hat was here though. You need answers and you're not getting them from these two. Flug was currently carefully watching the blood fill up the 2 pint container. As it was almost to the desired filled ratio. When it was, Flug turned off the pump and carefully, with a gentle grip this time, removed the needle from your arm. As he sterilized the area and wrapped gauze around the injection site. You moved your arm, cringing slightly at the pain that spiked. Yep. It was gonna be sore for a while. Then, the shadows that were binding you to the chair released you, much to your pleasure. Then you found yourself in Black Hats' grip, much to your displeasure. Suddenly, everything was spinning and you were engulfed in darkness for a minute, before the spinning stopped, the darkness faded away, and you found yourself outside of your guestroom. Black Hat then released you and disappeared in the same black smoke you witnessed him doing earlier when he brought Flug to the lab. . . . You STILL had no answers to what just happened! -- Meanwhile, Black Hat returned to Flug in a puff of black smoke after placing yourself out of the lab. He got what he needed from you...for now. Right now, he just needed to make sure that Flug didn't tamper with the blood sample that he took. Flug was currently in the process of moving the 2 pint container to the chemistry table. In which Black Hat followed, eagerly. Flug sat the container down onto the table and popped the cap off. Revealing the dark red liquid staring back at him. Showing a reflection of himself, to which he coddled in internal disgust. He could feel his guilt eat at his insides. He was actually HELPING Black Hats' plan by making this. Yet...what other choice does he have? Denying would only cause pain and even if he did endure it, what would be the point? Black Hat will always get what he wants in the end anyway. He sighs. He envies your optimistic view on the world that's so unfair. "Make that entire container into the poison, Flug." Black Hat ordered. As he was pulling vials out of thin air, seemingly judging them. One vial was a blood red with a silver, top hat wearing, ruby-eyed skull as the cap. The other was black with gold trimmings with a simple gold and black top hat as it's cap. Both were of moderate size, enough to hold a decent amount of liquid. Flug just shook his head as he emptied the contents of the 2 pint container into the large bulbous glass beaker that connected to the other components on the chemistry table. Thankfully, he wrote down the successful reaction recipe to appropriately separate the blood. This would be enough to make...about 12 or 14 vials? Much to Flugs' innermost distaste. He still can't shake off the worry and looming anxiety of being responsible for all of the future deaths that will come out of this. His boss regularly met with villains. People and creatures that will willingly kill for what they want. Whether it would be to get rid of heroes and take over a city to just mindlessly murdering other villains for their resources. Yet, Black Hats' greed overshadows all other worries and cautions. Flug looked over at Black Hat, to which he tossed aside the other two vials in favor of a Black and Red one that had the company logo on it. To which he snickered and placed it on the table, and releasing a mist that conjured up more of the same vial from out of thin air. The sheer number of the vials was staggering. He was planning to make...all of these hold the poison? That's absurd! Flug shook his head. "We w-will only have enough f-for approximately 12 or 14 v-vials, sir." Flug stated, watching the blood go through the chemistry process. "I know that, you fool!" Black Hat snapped, causing Flug to flinch. "These-" He held up a vial at Flug for emphasis. "-are the ones that will hold it in the future." Black Hat grinned. Flug took a long stare at the numerous vials and felt like he was going to be sick. He's going to be taking your blood for who knows how long. You don't even know what's going on! He feels so...sleazy. He would love to preform more research on you. But, he'll do it with consent! This is just taking for...profit. Flug shook his head. He expects no more from Black Hat. The demon is crazy for money. He'll put it above the people that live underneath his roof if he could. Black Hat would even sell him in a heartbeat if the money was the right price. Disgusting. Flug watched as the blood separated into larger vials, splitting the enzymes and the cells from each other. Flug knew his fate had been sealed. He just hopes that you'll understand when he comes clean to you. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Next> <Previous ~First~