#x-files trading cards

[ragnarockz]

The X-Files Topps Trading Cards ft. Mulder and Scully pt 2, 1996 👽

[mugenfinder]

Okay, your turn.

[a-summer-soul]

look what I found at my local nerd ephemera store besties!

[kingstoken]

X-Files trading cards from the 90s

I was going through some of my old stuff and I came across these, and I thought some X-Files fans might be interested.

[zaricats]

i love watching this cluster of shows that were made in the late 90s/early 2000s because it's like they exhanged the same 5 guest actors over & over

[holylulusworld]

TOL - Like a virgin (1) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: You need money. Hansen’s agency offers the right kind of trade.

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, unnamed other reader (Hansen’s girl)

Warnings: money problems, sex for money, selling your virginity, blindfolding, sex with a stranger, groping, oral (fem rec), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, loss of virginity, slow sex, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Bucky, undefined age gap, dad’s best friend trope, Lloyd being Lloyd, language, mentions of past death of a loved one, fluff

A/N: This story is part of my: Traders of love (lust) masterlist

A/N2: It's also a request fill for my 16.666 followers celebration masterlist. Sorry, this took me so long. I'm working on all the requests left for this celebration.

Words: 3,9 k

“Do you know what you get yourself into if you sign this contract?” Lloyd Hansen, the devil with blue eyes asks.

“I need to money and uh…I tried anything else. I worked my ass off and even sold my car. It’s no use,” you exhale deeply to calm your racing heart. “The debts are eating me alive, and the only thing left that I could sell is my…virginity.”

He watches you squirm in your seat, amused, and aroused at the same time. “Aw, you’re a cute little cupcake. I’d love to have a taste of you myself, but I don’t shit where I eat – you know.”

Lloyd cocks a brow when you reread the standard contract he handed to you. “So, you will put me on your website and your customers will buy me?” You blink a few times to not cry. This feels so surreal and wrong. How did you stoop so low that you sold your body to a stranger?

“Kinda,” Lloyd gets up from his chair to show you his iPad. “We don’t sell you off to a random douche. I don’t want a cute muffin like you to end up under a sick bastard. All my clients are gentlemen.”

You nod slowly and try to remember every detail he tells you. “Okay.”

“You can choose ten out of my clients and, if you want to, a wild card.” Lloyd hands you the tablet. “If you choose only ten out of my clients one of them will have the honor to fuck you first.”

You fight the urge to scrunch your nose up. “What’s the wild card?” You look up from the iPad to meet Lloyd’s eyes.

“If you choose ten men and the wild card, you will get more money,” he explains. “The start offering will be one million dollars. You’ll get six hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll arrange everything for your safety.”

You gasp loudly. This amount of money would save you and allow you to live a better life. You don’t care Lloyd will have almost half of the money. He provides the hotel suite and will make sure that you’ll come home safely.

“The men will attend an online auction. They will bid on you. If you get lucky, they will pay more than one million bucks.”

“Wow!” You exclaim. Even if it’s the worst thing you’ll ever do, this arrangement will help move on from your past and pay your debts.

“Now, I’ll tell you about the wild card,” Lloyd sits next to you. “The wild card is special. You cannot choose this man, but you’ll get two hundred and fifty thousand bucks more. No matter who wins the auction. You’ll get eight hundred and fifty thousand bucks.”

“He’s not a creep, right? I don’t want my first time to be with someone hurting me or ignoring my safe word,” you wring your hands.

“The wild cards are my special clients. These men have my trust, sweetness,” Lloyd says. “The inner circle of my organization. It consists of ten men. You will find none of them in my files.”

“I could need the extra money,” you ponder. “You promise that they are not crazy or shit?”

“I’m the craziest guy in this organization,” he flashes you a smile. “And you are not scared of me, right?”

“You’re intimidating,” you shyly admit as you glance at Lloyd. “But you didn’t hurt me or scare me. You were nice.”

“Hah, did ya hear that, sunshine?” Lloyd yells, making you flinch. The door immediately flies open, and his assistant walks inside. “See, she thinks I’m nice.”

“Yeah, because she doesn’t know you like I do,” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at Lloyd. “Sweetie don’t let him talk you into this wild card shit. His buddies are the worst, and he’s the king of shit!”

“Darling don’t be rude,” he gets up to wrap his arms around her waistline. She squirms in his hold, giggling while pushing against his shoulders. “Give your man a kiss.”

“Not until you get rid of that mustache!”

“You love the mustache. It makes your clit all tingly when I go down on you,” he steals a kiss, and gropes her plump ass. “If not for my new client, I’d fuck you right here and now to put a little Lloyd inside of you.”

“You’ll take care of the sweet girl first. You better not pressure her into this shit,” she grunts and pushes Lloyd off her. “I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

She walks back outside and closes the door with a loud thud.

“A hell of a woman,” he hums and adjusts his pants. “I found her—” Lloyd clears his throat. “Never mind. That’s a story to tell later.”

“Can you tell me what the men will expect? I mean, aside from having sex with me.”

Lloyd smirks. “You don’t have to worry about kinky shit. The contract includes vaginal sex  - missionary, or doggy style. Maybe a blow job. Protection is a must. If you want it to be pleasurable for you too, play with your pussy, or think of something nice.”

“I’d imagine Bucky,” you blur out. “I—fuck.” You curse when Lloyd cocks a brow. “He’s my dad’s best friend, and a little older than me. Not a gramps or something.”

“Bucky, huh?” He nods thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you hastily say. “His real name is James Buchanan Barnes.” You swoon now. “He never looked at me twice, but if I want to get off, I always imagine him.”

“As long as you don’t moan his name, I don’t care what you do to get into the mood,” Lloyd says, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on. “Back to the options. Wild card yes or no?”

You look at the iPad again. What is one more stranger, right? “Yes.”

“Barnes,” Lloyd grins like the devil. “Hey, no swear words, sunshine. I got a nice little deal for you.” He grunts and mutters into the phone. “Would you just listen for a moment? A nice little bird came to me. I think you know her…”

“Y/N!” Your dad’s best friend jogs next to you. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Uh-hi,” you squeak when he wraps you in a hug. “Nice to see you, Bucky.”

“How have you been?” He releases you to lock you up and down. “You look a little stressed. Is everything alright? You know that you can always come to me. I’m like an uncle to you.”

“Uncle,” you wrinkle your nose. “Right.” You shake your head at the naughty thoughts wanting to force their way to the front of your mind. “I’m good. Really. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” He presses on. “If you are scared to tell your dad, tell me. I won’t say a thing.”

“I said that I’m fine,” you snap at him as a woman gets out of his car and calls his name. “How about you go back to your arm candy and leave me alone? We haven’t heard of you for two years.”

You twirl around and storm off. You don’t need anyone to help you. Lloyd offered more money than you’ll need to pay the debts your dad left you when he passed away.

Bucky didn’t even know about it because he just doesn’t care…

“Pumpkin,” Lloyd claps his hands as you walk inside the expensive penthouse suite. “You look stunning.” He grins as you squirm under his gaze.

He walks toward you to hand you the iPad. “The wild card won the auction,” he casually says. “I transferred the town hundred and fifty thousand bucks to your bank account. This is the point of no return. If you want out, say it now.”

“I know,” you released a shuddery breath. “I don’t want to do this, but I need the money. It’s one night with a guy you trust. So…let’s get this over with.”

“On the bed is something the wild card got for you. OH, and he wants you to put the blindfold on. It’s his special request,” Lloyd gently pats your shoulder. “I promise he’s a good guy, and won’t hurt you, pumpkin. Just remember the only two rules. Never ask why they pay you for sex, and, never let them do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you—” you close your eyes and take deep breaths. “I can do this. Please leave me alone now. I need to get ready.”

“If he crosses a line,” Lloyd says. “You say Lloyd, and I take the door down.”

“What? I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows.

“Just say Lloyd.” He whispers in your ear.

“Lloyd,” you say, and the lights in the room turn red. An alarm shrills and you need to cover your ears. “Oh…wow.”

“See, I take care of my girls. Do not let him gag you, though,” he warns. “If he tries anything you don’t agree to, yell my name and I’m there in a split-second.”

You nod and give Lloyd a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“I make money with my girls. I don’t want them to get hurt or worse,” he says. “I’m not a saint or a good guy. But no one hurts my girls.”

You watch him leave the room and release another shuddery breath.

He’s right. This is it. The point of no return…

The gift from the wild card is a silky nightie dress in your favorite color. Midnight blue. It has a plunging back and lace-lined cups. It fits you like a second skin.

You close your eyes and count to ten to calm your racing heart as you put the blindfold on. It’s the wild card’s special wish, and you don’t want to piss him off right away.

Maybe the blindfold will make things easier. You can imagine any face, while the stranger is inside of you.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful.” You shudder as his voice is deep and rough. He entered the room without making a noise, and now he’s already so close you feel his breath fan over your neck. “I see you are wearing my gift.”

“Yes…Sir…” You breathlessly reply. His hands ghost over your arms, touching you gently. “Or do you want me to call you something else?”

“Hmm…” He hums. “We will see, doll.” You whimper at the pet name. “Can I call you doll? Is that alright with you?” His lips press against your neck, he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I need you to answer me.”

“Yeah, that’s alright with me,” you are already enchanted by the stranger. His scent is intoxicating, and his voice goes straight to your core.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he wraps one arm around your waistline to bring you close to his body. His chest is bare, and you feel his skin pressed against yours. “I dreamed of doing this with you.”

“You did?” You purr and lean your head against his shoulder. “What do you want to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckles as you press your butt into his crotch. “You’re eager to get me going, huh? Don’t worry. I’m already so hard for you it hurts.”

He releases you and steps away to admire your wrecked state. You’re a panting mess, and your legs quiver. “Beautiful and so responsive.” He’s back on you to slide the thin straps of the nightie down your shoulders. The stranger nips at your neck, leaving little love bites on his way. “I can’t wait to have you.”

“You have me,” you move your hand behind you, blindly grasping for his hair. He’s a stranger but feels so good against you. “I want you to have me.”

“I know, doll,” he whispers in your ear while shoving the nightie down your shoulders. The fabric drops to the ground and pools around your ankles. “I love how you feel against me. I bet you feel even better around me.”

His hands cup your breasts. One warm and soft, the other cold and a little rougher. He gropes your soft flesh and pinches your nipples. This stranger plays with your body and pulls all the right strings.

You don’t have to imagine someone else. His lips nipping at your earlobe, and his hands, those skilled tools press moans and whimpers out of you. “Sir…”

“It’s alright, doll. Be as vocal as you want to,” he smirks against your skin. “Relax and let me take good care of you.”

“Yes—” you hiss when he meaningly tugs at your nipples. “Ouch.”

“You are a big girl and can take it, baby doll,” he grinds into you to rub his aching cock against your butt. “I bet your pretty cunt is wet for me.”

Your voice fails. He’s moving one hand between your legs and pinches your clit through your soaked panties. “I knew it.” He teasingly pinches your clit, igniting another spark deep within you. “You’re mine now. Only mine. After tonight, you’ll never want another man. Say it!”

His other hand rips your panties off of your body, taking you by surprise. You squeak and giggle as he twirls you around. “You’re all I imagined you’d be,” he cups your face and presses his lips to yours.

You’ve been kissed before – but not like this. His lips are soft and tender, but the kiss gets heated when his hands move to your ass to hoist you up.

You end up in his arms and sling your legs and arms around his body out of instinct.

“Your lips taste like heaven.” He purrs while walking toward the bed. “I bet your sweet pussy tastes like sin.” You end up on the soft mattress, the stranger on top of you.

He kisses you again, slowly, and sensually this time. “I’m gotta have a taste, doll.” You wish you could watch him kiss his way down your body. It feels like his lips and hands caress every inch of your body they can reach. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The stranger moves lower, kissing you right above your belly button. He moans against your skin, making you shiver at the slightest touch.

His hands move over your thighs, spreading them wide so he can settle between your legs.

“Let me have a taste of heaven,” he presses a searing kiss to your pussy. “I’ve got you, doll.”

You shudder feelings his nose brushes your clit. “So pretty down here too,” he murmurs against you. His breath tickles your folds, leaving you wanting more. “Shhh…” He shushes you. “I only want to eat this sweet cunt out.”

He spreads your pussy lips, to look at your clit. “Ah…S-ir.” You stammer. “What are you doing?”

“Did no man ever put his mouth on you?” He looks up at you from between your legs, groaning loudly when you shake your head. “Good. I’m your first for everything then.”

Your mouth falls open. Why would he want to do such a thing? Isn’t this night all about him, not you? “Why?”

“I love eating pussy, doll,” he laughs. “And I want you slippery wet so I can shove my dick right into your tight little hole.”

You grab your tits, squeezing your flesh to do anything but lie there and wait for the stranger to rule your body.

He teases your pearl with the tip of his tongue, eager to please you. A shudder runs through you. You are so lost in his touch that you nearly forget this is about him and that he paid you to touch you.

This is not love-making, but a business transaction. “Please just fuck me…”

“Not yet,” he slaps your pussy lips. “I want you to be a good girl and let me enjoy every moment. “This includes tasting your cunt.”

“Oh-“ It never crossed your mind that a man could be interested in eating you out before getting off. “Be my guest.” You sass and spread your legs wider. “I’m on the menu tonight.”

“That you are,” he kisses the inside of your left thigh, caressing the soft skin with his lips and tongue. “But only for me.” He turns his attention toward your right thigh.  

He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Fuck, you smell so good, doll.” You gasp the moment he licks up your sex. It’s a new sensation and you already love it. “Use my face, come on.”

You bite your lower lip. Can you do this? Lloyd said this is all about the man’s fantasy, but he wants to give you pleasure too.

“Fuck,” you nod and start grinding your pussy against his mouth, hoping to get more of this new feeling. “Please.”

“Soon, baby doll,” he purrs and flicks his tongue to play with your little nub. You wiggle on the bed, grinding as he uses his mouth to send sparks of pleasure through your body. You don’t think, just feel.

You whimper and moan hearing him groan against you. He throws your left leg over his shoulder, spreading you wide as he teases your soaked hole with the tip of his index finger. “Oh God, yes. Please just put it inside,” you become impatient. “Fuck…please.”

He laughs but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pushes one finger inside, curling his digit inside of you. “Relax, doll. I’m gonna give you my cock soon enough.”

“Y-es…p-lease,” you can’t think straight. Your body is on fire, and you need release, or you’ll lose your mind. “Please I want you to…”

“Baby,” he purrs while slowly starting to fuck you with his finger. “Soon…I’ve been waiting to have you for so long.”

He adds another finger, now pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot. “Fuck,” you exclaim loudly. “Ah, there…I need… I want…”

“No,” you don’t get to cum. He scissors you open, ignoring that you beg and plead. “Not yet. You’ll cum on my cock only. I want to feel you fall apart for the first time while I’m inside of you.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh baby doll,” he coos when you sniffle, and slam your fists into the mattress. “I don’t want to be cruel, only to make it easier for you to take me.”

“Please, I only want to feel you,” you hold out your hands, sniffling louder. “I need you to do it now before I get scared.”

“Shit,” you feel his fingers slip out of you. He crawls up your body and kisses you slowly. “Baby doll, tell me if you want me to stop. We don’t have to do this.”

“You pai—” He silences you with his lips and makes you forget that you are only here for him to get what he paid for. “I want you.” You don’t know why, but it’s true. All you want is to feel him inside of your body.

“Are you sure?” He asks against your lips. “Baby doll?”

“Yes,” you blindly grasp for him. “Please fuck me. I don’t want to wait any longer.” You don’t tell him that the man you wanted to be your first would never even look at you twice.

“You don’t have to beg me.” He angles his hips to run the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and a high-pitched shriek escapes your throat feeling his length slide slowly into you. He stills his hips, groaning loudly as your walls strain against his intrusion.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby doll.” He buries his face in your neck, murmuring your name as he moves back and forth, always pushing a little deeper. “Open up to me, pretty doll.”

It hurts a little, and you hide your face in his shoulder, whimpering any time he tilts his hips. “I know, baby doll. It will feel good soon. Let me just,” he breathlessly whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna make love to you, Y/N.”

You bite his shoulder when he slides all in with the next thrust. A whimper escapes your lips, and you claw at his back. “Shhh…you are doing so good for me, baby. I’m proud of you, my sweet princess.”

He wraps one arm around you and removes the blindfold with one swift motion. You gasp and dig your nails into his back. “Bucky?” You can’t help but whimper his name. “What?”

“I couldn’t let you do this. I wanted you for so long.” He claims your lips in a soft kiss. “You refused to take my help so I…”

“It’s you,” you cling to Bucky. “Not some stranger…it’s you…” you sniffle. “You’re here…”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your lips. “Do still want to…”

You wrap your legs around his waistline. “Yes…hell yes…” You grunt. “Please don’t stop now. We can’t stop now.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck and digs his knees into the mattress. You melt into his arms, knowing it’s not a stranger, but the man you adored and loved for years.

“We already broke all the rules, Y/N,” he slowly starts rocking his hips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bucky curses as you claw on his back. “My doll.”

He’s pushing harder into you with every thrust. It doesn’t matter that you feel like you are in a limbo of pleasured pain, or that you forgot the condom. All you are capable of is to stare up at Bucky as he takes you apart.

Your body belongs to him and opens up to Bucky like a flower finally deciding to bloom. Your core burns with desire for more of him. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, Y/N,” he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to cry out loudly. Something drops to the ground in the room next door, but you don’t care.

You rock your body in sync with Bucky, urging him on to claim you, and your whole being. Even if you should be mad at him for tricking you, you can’t. Not when he pushes you over the edge, his name on your lips nor when he spills into you, cursing your name.

“Baby,” he worriedly looks down at you. You are panting heavily and are unable to open your eyes. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m good…” 

Bucky slowly pulls out to lie next to you. He opens his arms and watches you lie on his chest.

“Why did you never come back?” You run your hand over his sweaty chest. “Bucky?”

“Your dad found out that I had a thing for his beloved daughter,” he runs his hand over your head. “I’m sorry. He left me no choice but to stay away from you. I had to keep my distance.”

“You could’ve come to his funeral,” you sniff. “Why did you leave me all alone?”

“I had problems with the law, and I was in the middle of a divorce. You didn’t need a drunk wreck longing for you,” he whispers. “I had to wait until I’m better and then Hansen called, telling me about your problems.”

“That fucker,” you grumble. “I knew he was going to trick me!”

“Don’t worry, baby doll,” Bucky softly says. “I paid all your dues before coming here. I just couldn’t resist you any longer. I had to have you.”

He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you explain everything to me later. Like – how do you know Lloyd Hansen? And what is going on with his assistant?”

“You will get to know everything.” He pecks your lips. “For now, all you need to know is that I love you…always have…”

Tags in reblog.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 8

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the wonderful feedback on the last chapter! It made my week. 🥰 I truly thrive on hearing back from all of you — it gives me the fuel I need to finish this story!

(And it's rapidly becoming a beast lol.)

Word Count: 6,000 Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, mentions of past domestic abuse/trauma, PTSD, hurt/comfort, fluff, and a (small) cliffhanger.  

Part 8: Something In the Way…

It was three more rounds before he finally let you sleep. 

Or rather, you couldn’t help but drift off. Ben had said he would help you sleep, and in his words, a promise is a fucking promise.

After you’d scarcely recovered from the first round, he’d taken you from behind in your bed. You’d repaid the favor by dropping to your knees for him in the shower, after which he’d propped you up against the bathroom counter and ate you out with his talented tongue until you really did see fucking stars. 

But he’d gotten what he wanted; your voice reverberated his name off the bathroom walls with superior acoustics…  

And when you next woke up, to your surprise, Ben was still there. He was sitting up against the headboard and watching a nearly silent TV while he smoked a blunt.

“What time is it?” you muttered. 

“Around 6 a.m.,” he replied.

For God’s sake. He had to be tired by now. 

You rubbed at your bleary eyes and turned onto your side. For a moment, you just stared at his profile, wondering what the hell you were going to do if Butcher and the rest of your team actually found you. 

“Go back to sleep,” Ben said. He glanced over at you after blowing some smoke. A smirk started to curve his lips. “Thought you’d be knocked out until noon.” 

You too, if you were honest. Your insides felt like warm jelly. 

“What keeps you up if even last night can’t tire you out?” you asked. Ben didn’t answer you. He faced the TV again and took a long drag of his blunt.

Slowly you sat up, wincing at the soreness in your muscles, in your legs, arms, and between your thighs. Your entire body felt like a bag of stones, but it was a good ache. A thoroughly sated one.

You managed to sit up next to him and reach over to lay a tentative hand on his chest. It was warm, even with the ceiling fan and AC on full blast above you. He briefly looked down at your hand, then at your face. 

“What’s it really like?” you asked, before your inner filter could catch up with your brain. “The new power the Russians gave you.”

His expression changed from relaxed to tightening around the edges. 

“They didn’t give me anything,” he said, puffing away. 

You read between the lines of that statement, surprised that he was even that honest about what he went through in Siberia.

They carved it into him, you realized. Like a wound he couldn’t heal from. Without wanting to, you remembered the CIA files you’d studied about his imprisonment. 

“Did it hurt?” you asked, moving your hand down to the center of his chest. The corner of Ben’s mouth twitched humorlessly. 

“Nothing fucking hurts me,” he said. His voice was flat, and matter-of-fact. But he didn’t even look at you. 

Maybe he didn’t want you to catch the lie in his eyes. But as curious as you were, you didn’t want to push too hard. Not for the first time since you got here, you realized that you weren’t really sure what you were doing. 

During the day, the two of you had your own lives. You swam in the pool, trained yourself in the gym, and read in the garden. You played cards with Loco and Saul when they had time for a break (from whatever it was Soldier Boy had them doing). 

And over dinner one evening, Frank even told you that his daughter was fifteen going on sixteen, and sweet as pie, but she could get an attitude real quick.

“You remind me of her sometimes,” Frank remarked.

You scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Frank’s answer was merely a wry raise of his brow. 

You just rolled your eyes and carved into your steak. Simone’s cooking was in rare form tonight.

And at night, Ben invaded your room like it was his own.

You couldn’t help but let him in, and into your bed. You were frankly surprised that he hadn’t gotten bored of you now that he’d gotten what he wanted. 

But apparently, he felt the same way as you…that one taste was just not enough. 

Like now, while the radio played on the nightstand. And he had you naked and writhing beneath him on the bed. 

One of his hands rested below your ribs, holding you down while his head was caged between your thighs. Your knees were squeezing his head like a grape, but of course, all he felt was encouraged.

Your moans were getting higher, more keening as his tongue worked inside your hot core. Meanwhile, his thumb circled and pressed at your clit relentlessly.  

Your grip threatened to pull out a chunk of his hair, your leg wrapping tighter around his neck. “Ben…goddamn it…”

“A little busy right now, sweetheart,” he teased, taking a beat to nip hard at the inside of your thigh. It had you bucking against his chin with a gasp. His gaze raised up to yours, dark and filled with desire between your legs. Sweaty locks of his brown hair were falling over his brow. 

Though you were panting for breath, you managed to sweep his hair away from his dewy forehead. His eyes traced the path of your hand, but he stared back up at you again. 

“Tell me what you want while I’m still feeling generous,” he demanded. Two of his fingers found their way into your entrance, a placeholder for his mouth. “I’ll fucking finish you just like this, have you coming apart on my tongue—”

You were surprised he was giving you a choice at first. But you saw his intentions in his eyes—he wanted to fill you up regardless. His dick was straining hard against your thigh, and your core was pulsing with need anyway.

“Want you inside me,” you panted, though not without a cheeky smile of your own. “Almost as much as you wanna be in me.”

Ben smirked and wiped at his mouth and chin. “Yeah, fucking right. You know how hard you’re squeezing my goddamn fingers right now?”

He twisted said fingers inside you, making you utter a strangled sound. His smirk deepened, but he withdrew them just long enough to line himself into your entrance and slide right in, with little resistance as he bottomed out.

You clung to his shoulders as you shuddered at being entirely filled to the brim. You still weren’t used to that feeling—of being consumed from the inside out. 

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, “so fucking tight.” 

You squeezed around his hips with your legs, digging your heels into his ass. Your hold was desperate, but Ben just braced himself above you.

“For god’s sake,” you blurted. “What’re you waiting for?”

Even he was breathing harder now, maybe more from restraint than exertion. His smirk was devilish though. “What’s the magic word, baby doll?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 

Ben rocked against you a little, but not enough to give you what you wanted. Just enough to drive you insane. On some level, you had to admire his restraint.

“Fucking say it,” he said, his gaze firming. “Unless you want me to leave that pretty pussy on fire.”

You had a hard time believing that one, considering he was the one who couldn’t seem to go twenty-four hours without getting some. But you were just desperate enough in this moment to oblige his demands. 

You hooked a hand behind his neck and pulled him down to crash your lips into his. You licked into his mouth and bit sensuously on his bottom lip. He rumbled a deep, pleased sound that you felt in your chest.

And you felt his hand spanning the small of your back. Your fingers once again dove into his hair. 

Eventually you spoke against his lips, “Please. I fucking need you…”

His lips twitched in satisfaction. But he read the sheer wanting in your eyes, and the bit of vulnerability in your voice. Like you hadn’t been taken apart quite like this before. Or maybe it had really been that long for you. 

Whatever it was, this seemed to matter to you. The way you responded to his every touch, the way you demanded from him, was incredibly fucking hot.

So he was more than willing to help you make up for lost time. 

Ben licked his already wet lips and guided you back down. He actually put his all into fucking you. Not only were you the hottest piece of ass he’d had in a long time, but it was a point of pride for him. 

He wanted to be the only one you remembered—the one who’d turned you inside out and made you forget that you were supposed to hate him. 

Because yeah, he was that fucking good. And you were worth the effort. 

He held you tight enough to bruise as your release hit you in waves, sending hot tingles all over your body and making you freaking light-headed. Your tightening inner walls around his cock brought him along with you, and he spilled into you with a straining grunt. 

Once he’d pulled out and slid onto the bed next to you, an exhausted sigh fell from between your lips. But Ben turned to you with an almost boyish grin. 

“You mentioned something about the new Bond movie,” he said. 

You blinked at him, for a moment uncomprehending. Then you had to laugh. “Yeah, I said that an hour ago. Then you all but tackled me onto the bed.” 

He shrugged and turned on your TV. 

“Put it on while I wash up,” he said, tossing you the remote. You had a feeling it was because he still hadn’t gotten the hang of the apps on smart TVs. You sent him a narrowed look, but you found Skyfall on Netflix. 

“It’s not new, exactly. New to you, maybe,” you quipped. 

“I already know it’s not gonna be as good as Connery, but I’ll give this British asshole a try,” he said from inside the bathroom.  

“You will, huh?” you asked with a grin. “Didn’t think you were into that sort of thing.”

“What?” 

He finally came back out, still buck naked, and returned to your side on the bed. He gave you a quirking brow. 

“Never mind,” you said with a chuckle. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up too, then dragged on a large shirt over a pair of underwear. By the time you returned to the bed, Ben had gotten a bowl of popcorn and, of course, a large blunt.

You knew he was self-medicating. According to Butcher and Hughie, the guy had been suffering from PTSD big time…well, you hadn’t needed them to tell you that.

Even though your interactions with him before now had been somewhat limited, you knew that he couldn’t sleep. He boozed and drugged hard, from what you’d seen of his hangovers in the morning. 

The rest of it, he tried to keep a tight lid on. A byproduct of the bygone “never share your honest man feelings” era. Butcher was another one. But you were perceptive enough to see that Ben was hiding.

You were still curious though; still wanted to know what it was he hid behind stoicism and lust.  And what then?

“I’ll give Hollywood one thing. The stunts and effects are fucking incredible now,” Ben said. He was glued to the car chase on the TV screen. He was almost like a little kid, his eyes lighting up with every explosion and seemingly impossible move James Bond made to evade his enemies.

It had been a while since you’d seen this movie, but then it dawned on you that there was a certain erotic-ish scene between Bond and the villain, Raoul Silva, that you weren't sure of how Ben would react.

You shook your head. Another consequence of him being from a much different time, along with his outdated views on gender roles, among other things. 

No matter how frustrating he could be, you reminded yourself of the night he helped you cook. And the night he saved you. 

He could change, you reasoned. Maybe. With the proper motivation—

A shootout with a machine gun on the screen jolted you a bit, interrupting your thoughts. You reached over to the bowl of popcorn in Ben’s lap and grabbed a handful. But when you heard his breathing shallow, you glanced at him and frowned in concern. 

His gaze was on the TV, but his eyes were glazed over, slightly dilated. He was sitting very still, and he looked pale. 

“Ben,” you tried, with a tentative hand on his bare chest. His skin was hot to the touch, and clammy with sweat. 

“Hmm, what?” He turned his head towards you, but you he wasn’t really hearing you. His gaze ran through you, and above your head.

“Ben,” you said, more firmly. You kneeled next to him, grabbing his shoulder for leverage, and grabbed his face to turn it towards you. He blinked down at you. 

Your name fell from his lips, almost like a question. He wasn’t able to focus on you though. You called his name again and took his face with both hands. 

“Wherever you are in your mind right now, you’re here with me. Stay with me!” You raised your voice. His skin was getting really hot. 

You gasped and had to let go of him when it threatened to burn you.  

His chest started to glow and hum. Your eyes widened, and finally, so did his. 

Ben pushed you away from him and knocked you clean off the bed. He managed to angle himself with his chest upwards, just in time for the nuclear power in his chest to carve a huge hole into the ceiling, through the entire roof of the mansion, and up into the sky. 

Afterwards, Ben slumped, taking in ragged breaths and wiping sweat from his face. But then his eyes widened with realization. He looked over and saw you prone on the floor. 

He slid off the bed and went to you, dropping a knee at your side and reaching a hand to your cheek. He called your name once, then twice. When you didn’t wake up, his hand hesitated, then moved to feel your pulse. 

He felt it thrum beneath the pads of his fingers. You were alive, just knocked the fuck out for a bit…

So he eased you into his arms and slid your hair away from your face, unwilling to admit, even to himself, that he was worried. 

Not until you roused in his arms did he let out a subtle, relieved breath.

He gave you a crooked smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You groaned. “What the hell…”

Your beautiful eyes opened and met his. 

“You with me?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” though you winced at a nod. Your gaze shifted behind him and a soft gasp fell from your lips. Ben glanced over his shoulder, and the two of you looked up at the giant hole in the ceiling that was letting the bright glow of the moon into your bedroom. 

There was a mess of debris and wood and plaster all over the room. Even you and Ben were covered in a fine layer of it. He was avoiding your gaze now.

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him. 

You just sighed and offered him a smile.

“At least now I have a window in here,” you joked. “Was getting stuffy as hell."

That night, you slept in his room. You practically drowned in his large, plush bed that smelled like his cologne and aftershave. 

Though you hoped he didn’t expect you to stay here from now on. As much as you were starting to like him (and you still didn’t want to admit that fact), there were times when you needed your privacy. 

By the time you woke and started your day, however, Ben led you to a new room. It was bigger, with nicer furnishings, including a king-sized bed instead of a queen. It was bigger than your entire apartment back home in New York.

“Wow,” you said, turning to him with a smile. “Thank you.”

Though at that point, you knew Stockholm syndrome was real. 

Ben shrugged, returning your smile a bit. “Got twenty more of these. No big deal.”

“Right.” You raised a brow, then turned to survey your surroundings with your hands on your hips.

He’d insisted on carrying all your things himself (likely due to an old-fashioned sense of machismo-backed chivalry), even though the room was on the same floor as your old one. It was much closer to his, you noticed.  

Then you felt his hands snaking down your sides from behind, molding to the curve of your waist. You felt the warmth of his chest through his clothing as he pressed against your back. 

“Time to break it in,” he said, with the deepening turn of his voice that too often made your insides quiver and melt into goo. 

“Do you ever get tired of fucking?” you quipped. Though it lost its effect somewhat when you leaned against him, all too willing. 

Ben chuckled into your ear. “Take it as a fucking compliment, sweetheart. Your pussy is the sweetest I’ve had since before I went under.”

That made you pause. You turned in his arms and looked up at his face with a challenging brow. You wondered if he was just sweet-talking you (his version of it, anyway), or if he really meant that shit. 

“Don’t believe me?” he asked. 

“You’ve been plowing through hookers and escorts for months. Professionals,” you pointed out. “You don’t have to lie to me just to butter me up.”

“Why the fuck would I lie about some stupid shit like that?” he retorted. You frowned at him.

“Because it’s not stupid,” you said.

You pushed his hands from you and turned away, but he held you fast by your wrist, pulling you back toward him. You frowned in annoyance at his manhandling.

“What’s the real reason you hadn’t fucked anyone in three years?” he asked. Though it was more a demand than a question. 

“Why’re you so hung up on that?” you asked. “It’s no big deal.”

“Why are you so shocked by what I said?” he countered. He was giving you a choice: answer one question, or the other. 

You let out a frustrated breath and waved your arms in exasperation.  

“I was busy, okay?” you said. “Vought had me on tough hours and shitty details. I didn’t have time for a life.”

And after the things you’d seen, you didn’t much feel like interacting with people, be they supes or normal humans. 

“That’s not the real reason,” Ben said. His fingers held your chin so you couldn’t look away. In the deep green of his eyes, you saw the same curiosity that plagued you.

Maybe…maybe if you gave him an inch, he’d give you one. 

Metaphorically speaking.

“I didn’t like who I was,” you confessed at last. “I just…I don’t know. Nothing felt right back then. It just took me a while to finally do something about it.” 

He seemed to consider that, and you.

You took the opportunity of his distraction to extricate yourself from his grip, and you ventured further into your new room. Your eyes lit up when you found an old record player sitting on a dresser, and a basket full of vinyl on the floor next to it. 

“Wow, seriously retro,” you said with a chuckle. But you knelt down and started flipping through the collection. Ben followed you. With his arms crossed, he looked over your shoulder at the record you fished out. Abbey Road by the Beatles, 1969. You placed the record and set the needle at a specific song.

The drums kicked off into a familiar electric guitar melody. Then John Lennon’s voice echoed through the room. 

“Something in the way she moves, attracts me like no other lover…”

Nostalgia flooded through both of you, albeit for different reasons. For you, it reminded you of your grandpa (on your mother’s side). He’d dedicated this song, “Something,” to your grandma on their 50th anniversary. He’d made sure you played it again a year later, at her funeral. 

Meanwhile, this song always reminded Ben of fingerfucking Farrah Fawcett at a Beatles concert. Ah, the ‘70s. A wild fucking time.

“Good choice,” he remarked. 

You flashed him a smile. 

And with a sigh, you turned to sit against the dresser while the record played. You pat the ground next to you, and while Ben looked reluctant, he eventually sat down beside you. It seemed he had nothing better to do.

“I dabbled in music myself, you know?” he told you, with a smug raise of his brow. “Had a few hits on the charts.”

You grinned in amusement. “Yeah, I had to muck through every one of your cheesy-ass music videos.”

“Hey, every one of those fucking singles were gold.” He shot you an indignant look. “What, had to?”

“When I was researching you,” you said with a chuckle. He raised a brow at that. 

“Oh, yeah?” He rubbed a hand over his beard and met you with a critical eye. “What else did you dig into?” 

You met his eyes, and you knew he had some idea of what you were thinking. 

Ben let out a breath through his nose, craving some reefer. 

“Ah. That, huh?” he said. After a moment to gather your courage, you took a breath.

“Ben—”

“It’s not worth fucking talking about,” he said, a bit of grit edging in his voice. 

“It is if you’re still blowing craters into ceilings, Ben,” you replied sharply. “Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”

His steely silence was all you needed to know. 

“Look, I’ve gone through some shit too,” you said. “But forty years? …I know I’ll never completely understand what you went through, but—”

“You don’t have a fucking clue,” he said. His eyes were sharp, but also guarded. 

You couldn’t help it. The footage you watched was playing inside your mind in perfect scenes. You remembered the sound of his desperation, his struggle. And it had been all-too familiar to you.

“Maybe,” you agreed. “But I do get having shit that flashes behind your eyes, like a bad movie. Things you can’t forget. Things that won’t even do you the mercy of letting you sleep.”

Ben was reluctant to meet your eyes, as if even that small thing would be an admission of weakness. But when he did, you knew he would see a kindred spirit.

“Things that clog up the works,” you continued. You wet your dry lips, swallowing past a tendril of nerves. “And things that should be easy get…complicated. Like watching a movie, or…”

You had to take in a somewhat shaking breath, turning your face away. 

It allowed Ben to look at you a fraction softer. His mind was able to flash away from some of the past, to a more recent memory: the first time you’d pulled him into your room and let him into your bed. 

You’d pleasantly surprised him a few times that night, but there was one moment where he hadn’t known what to do next. 

When he saw panic instead of pleasure take over, and however briefly, he’d wondered if he truly was the monster everyone seemed to think he was.

So now, Ben couldn’t help but reach out to you. The back of his hand touched your neck. Your eyes widened a fraction when his thumb brushed down the column of your throat. 

“What happened to you?” he finally asked. He seemed more than just curious. There was more behind his eyes, and enough earnestness for you to consider trusting him with this part of you…

But still, you were reluctant to give him that big of an inch. 

“It’s only fair,” he pointed out. “The CIA gave you the full low down on me.”

Once again, you sighed. Can’t argue with fair. 

You rested you head back against the wooden dresser as “Oh! Darling” started to play from the record. Now didn’t feel like a particularly good time for a doo-wop, but such was your reality.

“I told you about my dad, right?” you said. Ben inclined his head.

“Something about the family business.”

You nodded. “He trained me. How to read people, how to fight…but he was the first one we had to defend ourselves from.”

Ben considered that with a deepening frown. He’d had an idea this story was going that way, but hearing you come out and say it (even without really being able to say it) just made him angry. His hands clenched into fists where they rested at his sides, on the ground. Until something you said called his attention.

“We?” he repeated. You nodded again. 

“My mom, and my younger sister,” you said, with a tremulous breath. “He was a drunken bastard for most of my childhood. I was about thirteen when he put my mom in the hospital, and it was…bad.” 

You swallowed past a lump of emotion in your throat—mostly at the guilt. If it hadn’t been for you, and your weakness, your mom wouldn’t have needed to intervene. She wouldn’t have had to try to protect you…

“From there, my grandparents got us out of that house,” you said, with a suspect sniff. “Mom finally divorced him.”

Unfortunately, the story didn’t end there.

By the time you were in high school, your father had gotten through his court-ordered rehab and managed to get his life back together. He built his P.I. firm back up, and by all appearances, he seemed to turn his life around. 

He convinced your mother of it enough that she let you work for him after school.

You hadn’t wanted to, but your father had a way of manipulating you too. He reminded you that your grades were shit (I fucking wonder why?). You had little chance of making it to college, so at least he could teach you a trade. 

“I’ll even pay you,” he’d said. And you’d taken the bait. 

He’d been unrelenting in your training, as he was in most respects. As a former Marine, he was rigid in his discipline, demanding perfection from you. 

However, when he felt his lessons weren’t being drilled into your head, he reinforced them with his calloused hands. 

And when Vought came to him, offering him a contract, he negotiated one for you too, without even asking if that was what you wanted. But you went along with it…until you couldn’t anymore.

“I finally broke contact with him when I left to join Supe Affairs,” you finished, quickly wiping a tear from your cheek. You glanced over at your captive audience with slight hesitation.

Ben looked stoic on the surface, calm even. But you didn’t know that it had taken every cell of self-restraint in him to stay quiet. Your red, shining eyes, the way you’d had to stop a few times to collect yourself—it all grated on him in the worst way. 

“Christ on a cross,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. “Why the fuck did you work with him?” 

“I told you. I was a kid—”

“No, I mean when he got the fucking deal from Vought,” he said tersely. “You could’ve split. Found yourself a husband, got your own life. Why the fuck would you sell yourself out like that?”

Your lips pursed. “First of all, I don’t need a husband to have my own life. Second, I’m not the only one here who worked for Vought.”

Ben huffed. He wanted to call you a fucking idiot. He wanted to say, See? This is why you need a real fucking man in your life. 

But with daddy issues this bad, you’d probably fuck that up too. 

“Answer the goddamn question,” he said instead, though none too gently. 

You gave him a soft glare. Didn’t he realize how hard it was for you to say all of this aloud, let alone confide in him?

But now that he did know, maybe he’d be more likely to open up to you. You would be able to understand him better, and maybe…maybe one day, you could convince him to let you go. 

So you felt you had no choice but to answer his real question. 

Why the fuck did you follow your father to Vought?

The truth was, that man had a way of getting into your head, living in your skin, and making it crawl.

“He’s a manipulative bastard,” you said. 

He knew how to work you, just like your mom. And your mother was…well, damaged. You knew you couldn’t rule yourself out of that one either. 

However, the thought did spark your own curiosity. 

“What were your parents like?” you asked. 

The question seemed to surprise him. His frustration with you melted into a more uncertain frown. You bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Come on. It’s only fair,” you teased. A smile lifted his lips, but his eyes became rueful.

“She was a good woman,” he replied, speaking of his mother. “Quiet maybe, unlike you.”

You smiled in amusement at that. 

“But elegant,” Ben said. The softening edges of his smile told you volumes.

“She didn’t grow up with much, so when she married my father, she learned how to live in his world," he said. "But she still cooked and cleaned and pretty much ran the house, even though we had people to do that shit.”

“How did she meet your dad?” you asked. You knew his father’s family was from old money. He’d inherited his empire from his father before him.

Ben glanced at you. “She sang at this club…a nice one though, not some fucking dive. She wasn’t the star or anything, but my father noticed her. Said she was the only one who could pull off red lipstick without looking like a whore.”

That made you roll your eyes, which provoked an amused grin out of Ben.

“Charming,” you remarked. It must’ve really upset the old apple cart when his father married his mother. You wondered how she’d felt about Ben becoming Soldier Boy…

“Doesn’t sound familiar?” he asked. "Pretty girl in red, croonin' for a bunch of assholes in a musty fucking club?"

At first, you were confused.

And then, you realized the reason for his not-so-subtle grin. With an incredulous blush, you supposed that you and Ben had met in much the same way as his parents. 

Well, that’s not creepy at all, said the more rational part of your brain.

…Or maybe, weirdly romantic, whispered the other part. The part that had probably caved after you watched Ben try and fail to chop onions for the first time.  

“What was your favorite thing about her?” you asked. 

“You know, all my pictures of her are in black in white…I don’t even remember what color her eyes were,” he admitted. “But I remember her voice. Smooth as warm butter. She’d hum with the radio whenever she cooked. If Dad wasn’t there, she’d belt out a tune or two. I’d sit in the kitchen and watch.”

Imagining that scene made you smile softly. 

“Her captive audience,” you teased. Ben took it with a quirk of his mouth. 

“What about your dad?” you asked. He turned to you with a knowing look. You both knew what the man had thought of Ben. But you wanted to hear it in his own words.

“My father was a stern man,” he said. The softness was gone, and your smile fell. “This kind of larger-than-life force when I was a kid… Of course, when I became a man, he didn’t consider me worth the fucking effort. Not even when I became a hero, and everybody in the fucking world knew my name, he couldn’t admit that I’d fucking surpassed him.”

You sighed. More than anyone, you understood the underlying resentment in Ben’s tone. The kind of young recklessness that pushed him into becoming Soldier Boy, trying to prove his father wrong. 

“He thought you cut corners to do it. And while he wasn’t wrong,” you said, as gentle as possible. You held your ground when Ben looked sharply at you. “You didn’t deserve to be ignored either.”

Ben scoffed at that, as if he didn’t give two shits one way or the other. You knew better. 

So the two of you kept talking, sitting there on the floor long after the record finished. You traded stories and bickered as you often did.

But when you managed make him laugh, genuine, hand-on-chest, and almost boyish, you had to try and stem off a blush as you felt a pleasant flutter in your belly.

“It’s been two fucking months since you lost him in Colombia, and what do you have to show for it?” Grace Mallory said into the screen of her cell phone. FaceTime was only glitching slightly, at least. 

On the other side of the looking glass, Butcher was annoyed.

“He’s like a coil of smoke,” he said. “Pulled a motherfucking Houdini act. I have half a mind to think he’s gettin’ some help. Other than the ex-military cunts he recruited on the road.” 

Grace thought for a moment. “Give me five minutes.”

Butcher hung up before she did. With a purse of her lips, she searched for another number in her contacts. Some personal assistant answered the line.

“Get me Stan Edgar,” she said. 

“Well, he’s actually in a meeting right now—”

“Now,” Grace snapped. “Unless you want a CIA squad storming the tower for withholding evidence.”

In less than thirty seconds, Stan’s familiar monotone greeted her.

“Good afternoon, Grace,” he said. “How can I help you?”

“You fucked up, Stan,” she replied, resting back in her office chair. “This doesn’t bode well for you.”

“To what matter are you referring?”

“You know exactly what. I’m going to ask you this once,” she said. “If I don’t get a straight fucking answer, I’ll have no other recourse but to rake through your records all over again. And we both remember how pleasant that was.”

“We’ve done nothing but comply with the government’s demands.”

“Right,” Grace scoffed. “Listen to me. If I find out that you’ve withheld information about Soldier Boy’s location—or even so far as helping him evade my grasp—I will dig so far up your ass, you won’t be able to fucking breathe.”

There was a pause on the other line. 

Eventually, however, the little toad spoke. 

“You’ll have the coordinates shortly.”

Grace’s mouth curved with a grim smile, and she hung up. 

Meanwhile, in his office at Vought Tower, Stan sighed and turned to his Chief of Security, Jon.

“Should we send them the comprehensive list of Soldier Boy’s safe houses?” he asked.

“No. Just the one in Colombia,” Stan said. “But Jonathan, it is time for our contingency plan.”

Jon met Stan’s gaze with a nod. 

“I’ll give the order.”

AN: 😬 Welp, things are going to start getting bumpy from here lol.

Next Time:

His frown deepened the moment he saw you, which you didn’t quite understand.

“Ben,” you said, even though it was an effort to do so. Every breath was like a hot knife cutting deeper into your side.

Your eyes closed at the pain, and at tears that burned down your cheeks. It also cut through the brain fog enough for you to realize this was bad.

It was very bad.

Keep Reading: PART 9

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

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[werebutch]

My X files season 2 trading cards

[yyh4ever]

Yu Yu Hakusho x Anique

To celebrate the 30th anniversary of the anime, new and beautiful Yu Yu Hakusho original goods are going to be sold at Anique Shop. Some items also include Koenma and Youko Kurama's illustrations. Kurama's flower diffuser is a must-buy!

■ Preorders: October 4, 2023 (Wednesday) to November 12, 2023 (Sunday)

■ Shipping: February 2024

■ Online Shop: anique.shop

■ Product line-up:

Kurama Flower Diffuser 🌹

Price: ¥4,400

"A delicate and noble phantom rose fragrance. A scent that cleanses and refreshes the soul. Enveloped in dreams and visions, you are lulled into slumber. A masterpiece with a single bright red rose that stands out as an interior decoration. The bottle comes with an original design of roses, representing Kurama's motif. Even after enjoying the scent, you can use it as a flower vase etc."

A4 Clear File (4 types: Yusuke, Kuwabara, Hiei, and Kurama)

Price: 440 yen each

The front side has the bold main characters, and the back has a simple Yu Yu Hakusho japanese logo floating in the center. Finished with an impressive design in bright neon colors.

Size: (approx.) W22 x H31cm (A4 size)

Material: PP

Yusuke

Kuwabara

Hiei

Kurama

Postcard Set (4 types: Yusuke, Kuwabara, Hiei, and Kurama)

Price: 440 yen each

A set of 2 postcards with life-sized and mini-sized characters. Enjoy the gap between the guys serious look and their cute deformed chibi characters.

Size: (approx.) W10 x H14.8cm

Material: Paper

Yusuke

Kuwabara

Hiei

Kurama

Trading Clear Card (8 types: Yusuke Urameshi A, Yusuke Urameshi B, Kazuma Kuwabara, Hiei A, Hiei B, Kurama, Youko Kurama, and Koenma)

A card made of clear material that allows you to take pictures with the characters.

Price: 440 each (blind) / BOX: 3,520 yen (8 types)

Size: (approx.) W6.3 x H8.9cm

Material: PVC 0.3mm

Trading Mini Acrylic Block (8 types: Yusuke Urameshi A, Yusuke Urameshi B, Kazuma Kuwabara, Hiei A, Hiei B, Kurama, Youko Kurama, and Koenma)

An eye-catching acrylic block with bright neon colors.

Price: 880 yen each (blind) / BOX: 7,040 yen (8 types)

Size: (approx.) W5 x H5cm

Material: Acrylic (1cm thick)

Trading Can Badges (8 types)

This can badge has an eye-catching bright neon color. Enjoy it by attaching it to your bag or hat, or displaying it in your room.

Price: 440 yen each (blind) / BOX: 3,520 yen (8 types)

Size: (approx.) Diameter 5.6cm

Material: Tin

Acrylic Stand (4 types)

This is an acrylic stand with adorable chibi characters wearing Chinese outfits. The pedestal is decorated with neon motifs and names of each character.

Price: 1,650 each

Assembled size: (approx.) W6 x H8.1 x D4cm

Material: Acrylic (3mm thick)

Yusuke

Kuwabara

Hiei

Kurama

Hiei & Kurama Diorama Acrylic Stand

Price: 3,850 yen

Board size: (approx.) W29 x H20.5cm

Assembled size: (approx.) W10.6 x H17.2 x D4.8cm

Material: Acrylic (3mm thick)

Yusuke Urameshi & Kazuma Kuwabara Diorama Acrylic Stand

Price: 3,850 yen

Board size: (approx.) W29 x H20.5cm

Assembled size: (approx.) W10.6 x H17.2 x D4.8cm

Material: Acrylic (3mm thick)

Kurama & Hiei Assorted Acrylic Collection

An assorted acrylic collection includes acrylic stands categorized by 5 different sizes (XL, L, M, S, XS)

Kurama Assorted Acrylic Collection

Price: 3,850 yen

Board size (approx.) W29 x H20.5cm

Assembled size:

[Extra large] (approx.) W5.2 x H19.6 x D2.4cm

[Large] (approx.) W3.8 x H15 x D2.4cm

[Medium] (approx.) W3.4 x H13 x D2.4cm

[Small] (approx.) W2.7 x H8.6 x D2.4cm

[Very small] (approx.) W2.5 x H6.3 x D2.4cm

Material: Acrylic (3mm thick)

Accessories: Ball chain x 1

Hiei Assorted Acrylic Collection

Price: 3,850 yen

Board size: (approx.) W29 x H20.5cm

Assembled size:

[Extra large] (approx.) W6.3 x H17.5 x D2.4cm

[Large] (approx.) W4.9 x H13.3 x D2.4cm

[Medium] (approx.) W4.1 x H11.4 x D2.4cm

[Small] (approx.) W3 x H7.7 x D2.4cm

[Very small] (approx.) W2.5 x H5.6 x D2.4cm

Material: Acrylic (3mm thick)

Accessories: Ball chain x 1

■ Purchase Benefit

With every purchase of 3,300 yen (tax included), you will receive a random original bromide (8 types in total) as a gift.

[momo-no-tane]

Bushiroad Creative has announced that a Shugo Chara! Pop Up Store will be held at Shinjuku Marui Annex 6F Calendarium 5 from August 30th, 2024 to September 8th, 2024. Customers who spend more than 2,200 yen on new Shugo Chara! products will receive a random illustration card. There are 5 types of illustration cards available.

The prices are as follows (tax included):

Kirarin Acrylic Stands (5 Types) - 1,760 yen

Trading Pin Buttons (8 Types) - 500 yen

Trading Stickers (9 Types) - 440 yen

Pouches (2 Types) - 2,200 yen

Trading Acrylic Keychains (10 Types) - 660 yen

Clear File (1 Types) - 550 Yen

Rosette (1 Type) - 1,650 yen

Trading Memorial Big Bromides (10 Types) - 440 yen

T-shirts (2 Types) - 3,850 yen

Mini Clear Cases (2 Types) - 1,320 yen

Folding Mirrors (2 Types) - 2,200 yen

Source: Bushiroad Creative, Nijimen, X

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 26/34 - madeline

[Read on AO3]

Feeding the baby is slow going, but Mulder thinks they ought to cut her a little slack. It is her first day, after all. Eventually, she takes a longer pause and yawns, her tiny mouth opening wide and showing off her gums.

“That’s a big yawn for such a small person,” Mulder says, watching as Scully sets the bottle aside, lifting Madeline to her shoulder to pat her on the back. It isn’t long before she successfully expels a burp, drawing a chuckle out of Mulder. She’s so good with her already. He can’t wait to see his partner grow and change as a mother. Which reminds him: Mother’s Day is coming up. He’ll have to do something to celebrate.

“It really happened,” Scully says, marveling once more at their situation.

“It did,” he says, then thinks. “Should we tell your mom now?”

She laughs, nodding her head in agreement. Yeah, it’s probably safe to share the news now, isn’t it? “She’s gonna be beside herself.”

“She’s not gonna speak to us for months, for keeping this from her,” Mulder says, the joke an attempt to alleviate the tinge of genuine worry he has.

“I don’t know, I think we’ve got a pretty good Get-out-of-Jail-Free card here,” Scully says, looking down at the baby and bouncing her gently. “She won’t be able to stay away from her first granddaughter.”

Just then, Mulder gets a whiff of something not so pleasant, and he chuckles nervously. “Phew, are you sure? Cause this little stinker certainly knows how to clear a room.”

Scully gives him a thinly-veiled look of amusement, but he can tell she’s put off by the smell too, even with her strong forensic pathologist’s stomach. This will take some getting used to.

“Well, I got to be the one to give her her first bottle,” she says. “You want to do the first diaper change?”

“Somehow, I don’t feel like that’s a fair trade,” Mulder says, laughing. Even so, he doesn’t hesitate to lift the baby from Scully’s arms and carry her over to the changing table, which is outfitted with all the supplies they could possibly need. 

Scully stands by on the opposite side of the table for moral support, watching him with a funny smile on her face. It takes a second for him to find his rhythm—a real live baby with flailing legs is a bit different than an inanimate baby doll, after all—but he vows that in no time, he’ll be a pro. 

“There we go,” he says, tossing the dirty diaper into the trash can from a distance. “A 3-pointer! And the crowd goes wild!”

Scully rolls her eyes, lifting the baby back into her arms and burying her nose in Madeline’s hair.

“How’d I do?” Mulder asks.

Scully smiles up at him from beneath her thick lashes. “Fresh as a daisy,” she says. “I should probably try to get her to sleep. Are you going to call your mom?”

“Yeah,” Mulder says, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, I’ll call her later tonight. She usually plays bridge with some friends Tuesday afternoons. At least, I think she still does.” In truth, he hadn’t talked to her much since her release from the hospital, a fact that he really needs to remedy.

Scully nods.

“Well, could you get my mom on the phone and let her know to come? I’m going to get Maddie cleaned up a little before we have visitors.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Scully,” he says. “When I call her from the hospital, it’s usually not good news.”

Scully gives him an encouraging look before laying the baby in her bassinet for a quick sponge bath. “Well, this is the perfect chance to change that up, don’t you think?”

She’s right, of course. He owes Margaret Scully an awful lot. Let this be the first step toward earning the kindness she has so freely bestowed so many times over the years.

He fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, pressing the buttons for speed dial 4. It only rings twice before it connects.

“Hello?” her voice projects.

“Hey, Mrs. Scully.”

“Fox? Is there something wrong?”

He sighs. He can almost see the pinched Scully look of concern on the elder woman’s face. That’s what he gets for constantly being the bearer of bad news, he supposes. He glances at his partner and then back at the boring pastel colored painting of a flower on the wall.

“Nothing’s wrong, Mrs. Scully,” he assures her. “Actually, it’s kind of the opposite.”

“I don’t understand—”

“How quickly can you get to the hospital in Annapolis?” he asks. “Bearing in mind that no one’s hurt, there’s been no disaster. For once, it’s good news.”

“The hospital?” she questions, still sounding worried despite his reassurances. “I can leave now, so maybe 45 minutes? You’re sure everything’s alright?”

“Promise,” he says. “Dana would have called you herself, but she’s… busy.”

“If you say so,” Maggie says doubtfully.

Gee, he wonders where Scully got her skepticism from. 

“Room 509 when you get here,” he says into the phone, checking his watch for the time. “See you soon?”

He can hear the rustle of a jacket and car keys on the other end of the line. “Yes– yes, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.” 

-.-.-

“No, you must have misunderstood me,” Maggie says to the nurse leading the way through the hospital corridors, “I’m looking for Dana Scully in room 509. This is the maternity ward.”

“Yes, ma’am. Room 509.”

“But that can’t be right,” she says, her brows furrowing in confusion.

Maybe Dana is working a case that involves a pregnant woman that required her medical expertise. But why would Fox call her asking her to come?

“You can go on in,” the nurse says as they arrive outside the room.

Thoroughly confused and not knowing what to expect, she pushes open the door. On the far end of the room, Dana sits on a couch, her arm resting against a cart of some kind, while Fox stands, his back to the door, hunched over the same cart. He turns and a smile spreads across his face, and Dana quickly gets to her feet, looking equal parts excited and nervous.

“Mom!” she says.

“Dana? What’s going on?”

She’s not dressed in her doctor garb. She is, however, wearing her usual FBI clothing, though it looks a little rumpled. Her daughter is usually so prim and polished—to gain the respect of her male peers, she supposes—it’s unusual to see her looking anything less than professional on a work day.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she says, walking quickly toward her with only a cursory glance back at Fox. “There was always a chance it wouldn’t work out, but…”

She runs out of words to say, opting instead to grab her mother’s arm and start tugging her to the other side of the room. The beaming smiles on their faces are unlike any Maggie had seen in quite some time.

As they get closer, Maggie sees that the cart she saw earlier is in fact a hospital bassinet, and inside lays a baby, wide awake and blinking as she holds tight to Fox’s finger.

“What– how–?” she begins, stuttering, her hand coming up to clutch her metaphorical pearls. “Dana, is that–?”

“Mom, I’d like you to meet your granddaughter,” Dana says, her voice shaking with emotion. Maggie looks up at her, then back at the baby. Tears pool in Dana’s eyes, and she supports her mother as they step up to the bassinet so she can get a good look.

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Dana!” she says, feeling her own eyes begin to water. “But, how? I was with you just a few weeks ago. And, is Fox–?”

“Mulder and I– Well, it’s a long story,” she starts. “Last year, I decided to try in vitro fertilization, and Mulder agreed to… help.” 

Maggie looks up at that, and she doesn’t miss the blush as it spreads across the man’s cheeks. He ducks his head, trying to focus only on the baby.

“It didn’t work, which is why I didn’t tell you,” Dana continues. “I didn’t want to… get your hopes up.”

“Oh, Dana,” Maggie says, looking sad. She wishes her daughter would confide in her more. She stores things up for so long, that when it all finally comes out, it’s hard to be of any help. She has so many questions, and she’s not sure Dana will give her all the answers.

“I thought that was my last chance to be a mother. But then, a few months ago, Mulder said that—” 

It clearly makes her emotional to think of, now, whatever her daughter’s partner had offered to do. 

“He said that if I wanted to try adoption, he’d do it with me.”

Adoption.

“I can’t believe it,” Maggie says, in awe of the tiny baby, and of the man who had made all of it possible. Fox Mulder had changed her daughter’s life forever, and she doesn’t think there’s any way she could possibly repay him.

“I can’t believe it either,” Dana laughs, and she sees Fox nod his agreement. This is a crazy thing that they have done. She'd thought that something was up with the two of them lately, of course, but never in a million years would she have guessed this. 

“Would you like to hold her, Mrs. Scully?” the man asks, gently lifting the baby out of her bassinet.

Overwhelmed and caught off guard by the sight of Fox Mulder holding a child, Maggie can only nod as she accepts the tiny bundle into the cradle of her arms. Tears spring to her eyes.

“Oh…” she sighs, unable to keep the tears at bay. “This is such a… a wonderful surprise. What’s her name?”

“Madeline Samantha Mulder,” Dana says proudly, glancing up at her partner in some form of unspoken communication.

That grabs her interest. 

“Mulder?” she asks curiously. “So you’re…” She gestures between the two of them with her free hand, and catches the glint of a ring on Fox’s left ring finger. Her eyebrows raise.

“We decided we’d raise the baby together. To make the application simpler, we got married,” Dana answers.

Married?!

“When?” she asks, equal parts thrilled and furious that she’d been left out of these plans.

“Christmas Eve.”

“Christmas…” she whispers, thinking back to that day. “That’s why you two had to go rushing off? You were getting married?” she says, aghast.

“Mom—”

“Your entire family was in town, Dana, even Charlie! Don’t you think we would have liked to be there for you on your special day?”

“It isn’t like that,” Dana says, her frustration rising. “It was just a formality. We went to the courthouse. We needed the papers so that we’d be seen as a couple looking to adopt on our applications. Otherwise, we might have been rejected. And you know they’re not the most accepting of single mothers—”

Wait, wait, wait. Back up. 

“I don’t understand,” she says, “You’re married but not… together?”

Fox and Dana look at each other, and Maggie knows the answer before they say it. Her stomach sinks.

“No,” Dana says, a little hint of disappointment in her voice. “Not really.”

Glancing between the two of them, Maggie detects disappointment from both sides, not that either of them can probably tell. They’re so blind to what the other is feeling, that it would be funny if it didn’t make Maggie so sad. All the things they’re missing out on, just because they’re both too stubborn to admit the truth. 

It’s probably only a matter of time anyway, she decides, no use harping on about it for now. If another month goes by with no sign of progress, she'll say something. That's as far as she'll go.

“You two are ridiculous, you know that?” she says curtly, pressing her lips together. “Frustrating.”

“Now you sound like my mother,” Fox jokes, in that self-deprecating tone of voice she wishes he’d stop using.

Maggie sighs, glancing back down at the gurgling baby in her arms. She sure is awfully cute.

“You’re lucky you gave me a granddaughter for all this nonsense I have to put up with,” she says, though not unkindly. She can say this at least about Fox and Dana: this baby will know a kind of love few people in this world get to experience.

They just have to pull themselves together first.

-.-.-

Maddie falls asleep on Mulder’s chest sometime after Mrs. Scully starts talking about breaking the news to Scully’s brothers, and to be honest, he’s glad for the distraction. It does, however, mean he’s kind of trapped there when Scully decides to go ask a nurse about bringing up some lunch for them from the cafeteria, leaving him alone with her mother and the baby.

They sit in silence for a while, neither really knowing what to say. At a certain point, though, Mulder can’t take the quiet anymore.

“You think Scully’s crazy, don’t you,” he says, more of a statement than a question.

“I’m not sure I know what to think,” Maggie answers. “About Dana.”

Mulder winces. He’d have to stop doing that. “Sorry, habit.”

“Ever since she met you, her life has been upside down and backwards from what I always thought it would be,” she continues.

“I know.”

“I don’t blame you, Fox.” Maggie’s hand settles atop his on the armrest of the couch, almost weightless. “She’s happy with you, otherwise she wouldn’t have stayed this long. I may not know much about my daughter these days, but I do know that.”

“I’m happier with her than I have ever been,” he admits. “And now—” he looks down at Madeline. “I didn’t know this much happiness existed.”

Maggie smiles, a little sadly. He’s used to people looking at him like that, the poor kid with the tragic backstory. He just wishes she wouldn’t. 

The room falls silent again. A funny look comes over her face, and he gets the sense that she's holding something back.

“And, where will you live?” she asks, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

“We’re going to be looking for a house,” he answers, “but for now I’ve been sleeping in… Dana’s spare bedroom.”

Maggie purses her lips. “No nursery?”

“Not yet,” he says, shaking his head. “We figure she’ll sleep just fine in a bassinet for the first few months.”

“And that will be in Dana’s room?”

“I suppose so.”

“So, will you be helping when she wakes up needing to be fed or changed in the middle of the night?”

What is this, some high-stakes interview for a job? He really hadn’t been prepared for this.

“Of– of course I will,” he answers, perplexed by the fact that she even has to ask. Of course he’ll help take care of the baby, he and Scully are in this together, as they are with everything.

Maggie hums. You could almost hear a pin drop.

“Seems like it would just be easier if you were both in the same room to begin with,” she states, shrugging her shoulders like what she’d said was no big deal. She sips nonchalantly from a styrofoam cup of coffee and doesn’t look at him.

Now, Mulder doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea... “Mrs. Scully—” he starts.

“It’s Maggie, Fox,” she says kindly but firmly, interrupting him. “You’re my son-in-law now, I think you can call me by my first name.”

He sighs, and feels the baby let out a sigh against his chest. You and me both, kid. 

“Maggie…” he corrects. “Look, Scully—Dana—is my best friend. And we’ve agreed to be parents and raise Madeline together, but we’re not—”

“Fox,” she interrupts again. “It’s very sweet that you’ve taken on this role as Madeline’s father, but what about Dana? Doesn’t she deserve a real marriage, with a husband who does more than care for her as the co-parent of their child? Don’t you deserve more?”

The very idea that Scully might not be enough for him offends him deeply, and he’s quick to tell her so. “I couldn’t possibly ask for more than your daughter,” he says. “She’s– she’s all I need. Her and Madeline. As for Dana…”

“She needs you, too.”

“No, but–”

“Don’t take what I’m saying the wrong way,” Maggie says seriously, leaning toward him. “Dana deserves a real husband, who loves and cares for her in all the ways a husband should.” 

She levels a stare at Mulder, and he waits for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m not saying that shouldn’t be you.”

What?

It’s not like he hasn’t thought of this before—he has—but to be talking about it with her mother? Twenty years from now, if Madeline were to have a friend like Mulder, he’d tell her to run away as fast as she possibly could. But—that isn’t what Margaret is saying, is it?

In fact… it seems like she’s saying the exact opposite.

“You care for her, don’t you?” she asks.

“I do, but—”

“You love her?”

Mulder’s jaw hangs open, his automatic reply dying on his lips. His heart pounds in his chest, and he spares a quick thought toward Maddie and hopes it won’t disturb her somehow. He wants to answer her, but he doesn’t know how. His throat closes up almost completely as tears pool in his eyes, and he doesn’t trust his voice to come out right if he tried. 

He glances down at Maddie, this precious little life he and Scully have vowed to take care of.

“It doesn’t matter if I do,” he says quietly. “She doesn’t… feel the same way.” 

He can’t look at Margaret right now. He’s afraid of what he would see if he did. 

“She deserves better than what I can give her,” he finishes, taking comfort in the warmth of his daughter burrowed into his chest.

Maggie is quiet for a moment. Then, she says, “It looks, to me, like you’ve given her quite a lot.”

True or not, there’s still the matter of everything else his presence in her life has done for her. To her.

“It doesn’t compare to how much has been taken...” he says.

“Which you are not responsible for.” Maggie’s stare is unrelenting, he has no choice but to take every word she speaks to heart. “Ask yourself who else in Dana’s life would have been able to make this possible for her. Who else would make such a life-changing decision, just to make her dream come true?”

“Any guy would have to be stupid not to,” Mulder states the obvious.

“You sell yourself too short, Fox,” Maggie says, shaking her head in either annoyance or disappointment. He doesn’t like either of those directed at him—not from Margaret Scully. “There’s no one she trusts more than you,” she says emphatically. “She wouldn’t have done this with anyone else by her side.”

Maggie sits back, apparently finished dressing him down. The baby squirms and then settles in her sleep, still exhausted from the eventful day she’s had. He can’t help but think about what Maggie had said—that Scully would only ever do this with him, no one else. He wants to push back, to say that isn’t true, but he knows in his heart that it is. 

The question is: what does that mean for him? What does it mean for them?

Maggie gives a tiny smile, watching as he absentmindedly rubs tiny circles on Maddie’s back, lost in thought.

“Dana has told me some of the more unbelievable things you believe in, Fox…” she says quietly. “Aliens, ghosts, monsters… Given that, I would think it would be easier.”

“That what would be easier?” Mulder asks, the drone of his murmur matching the tone she had set.

Maggie smiles at him fondly, her knowing eyes meeting his. 

“For you to believe she loves you.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

[ragnarockz]

The X-Files Topps Trading Cards ft. Mulder and Scully in the art, 1996 👽

[solradguy]

The people section of the GG masterpost over on my website is a little out of date so I'm going to mass @ a bunch of the GG archivist/translator people on here for others to go check out. Hello everyone I'm about to @ 👋

@tillman - Book scanner

Vastedge design documents, Guilty Gear Petit 1 & 2 Official Fan Book, Vastedge Official Guide Book, & extracted game assets/video from the Vastedge .APK/.OBB files. A bunch of other books too. // Archive.org.

@lesbiangiratina - GG TCG & book scanner

Character Designer Magazine, Issue 1, Fall 2003, Asura System Guilty Gear Trading Cards (there's like a billion of these), Broccoli GG cards, some Missing Link documentation. // Wiki file category.

@illym - Translator

Various 4koma strip translations. // Tumblr tag link.

@cryptide-travis - Video media

Guilty Gear X BATTLE for SAINT Sammy's CUP CHAMPIONSHIP, SUPER BATTLE OPERA THE 2ND ARCADIA CUP 2004 Super Battle DVD GUILTY GEAR XX #RELOAD Ultimate Festival of Arcade Games. // Archive.org folder.

@kaialone - Translation

Guilty Gear Petit 1 & 2 script translations, Fanny quotes translations, various other short translations or translation help for others. // Petit scripts wiki category.

@applsidra - Doujinshi

There are a lot of these. Mostly Sol/Ky; some may be 18+. // Tumblr links/FAQ page.

@tallgreenlady - Scanner

Guilty Gear 10th Memorial Book. // Archive.org

[nightmareofthelake]

I got my hands on some old X-Files trading cards and I'm tempted to decorate this one like one of this kpop photocards

[shinsart]

Talksprite Commissions | Gacha Adopt Commissions | Open Adopts

Leftover Adopts 01

Lowered Prices and put them all into a single post! All these Adopts can also be found on Toyhouse!

MOVED THESE DESIGNS TO A FRIEND! PLEASE CHECK IT OUT THERE!

Grapefruit Guitar: 15$ - GIVING AWAY

Red X: 15$ - OPEN

Beggin You: 20$ - OPEN

I Wanna Dance: 30$ - OPEN

Feel free to DM me or send an ask off anon if you’re interested in buying any of these designs :) And don’t worry if I don’t answer immediately, I’m probably just asleep or at work, but I’ll get to you ASAP

Rules/Info under the cut

Rules

First come First Serve - I will hold for up to 5 days

PayPal USD/EUR only or Steam Gift Card

Don’t use it for hateful content or feed it into AI software

Don’t claim the design as your own, please make sure you credit me when using the design (aka, first posting the character and crediting on their profile)

You are allowed to gift or trade the design, but you are not allowed to resell!

Gender and Troll Sign are free for you to choose and you may give them different clothing as well, as long as the design is recognizable

You are not allowed to change the blood or skin color

The full sized, PNG without a watermark and with transparency will be sent to you after payment has been processed

Optionally you can choose if you want the full sized PNG to have the palette in the image or not. Or you can have a seperate file with the palette on it, up to you!

Thank you in advance!

Please check out my other Adoptables too!

[lawlessfm]

INTRODUCING WHAT’S DONE IN THE DARK,   010 /,       

( PROCESS ONE, )            IT WAS A GHOST STORY,      wasn’t it?     It’s like hearing scratching inside the walls when you’re home alone.      If you give it attention then you have to give it details.    Like:   what colour was the wallpaper when your father left?     What colour is your father’s hair?      Do you have a father? ( PROCESS TWO, )       A FILE IS SENT TO THE FBI’S HEAD OFFICE,     MOST NOTABLY UNIT CHIEF VINCENT NOLAN,       IT’S ENCRYPTED AND TAKES FIVE DAYS TO TRANSLATE.      This is the part of the story where you can stop reading at any time.     This is the rabbit hole,    remember?    It takes all those youthful souls and twists their necks until they’re misshapen husks.        If you want to know what the files entail,   continue.      If you want to leave the game:    press ESC.  ( PROCESS THREE, )       RED EYE OPERATIONS,     THEY CALL THEMSELVES,    WERE ORIGINALLY THOUGHT TO BE HALLUCINATED,         no witnesses,    no solid accounts of being involved with the organization.      Until now,   of course.      The file includes fourteen titles  :///    

A. CHIEN, ACTIVE. A. BREMOVYCH, INACTIVE. A. SYVASTOSLAV,    ACTIVE.     C. HUMMEL, INACTIVE. G. LAURIER,    INACTIVE.    M. LUO,     ACTIVE.      N. EL-KHOURY,     ACTIVE.    N. BYEON,   ACTIVE.     R. KOWALSKI,   INACTIVE.    R. ROCKWELL,    ACTIVE.     S. JUAREZ,   INACTIVE.      T. BORGES,     ACTIVE.     V. SILVA, ACTIVE. X. ALCARAZ,     ACTIVE.

( PROCESS FOUR, )       EASIER SAID THAN DONE,    AS IS ANYTHING,         the rules reads as follows:      for each name revealed   (   difficult to do without help as none of these shadows hold records or paper trails )    this FBI reaper must give up one of his own.      A name for a name!      Red Eye’s capture  ( or evasion of capture )    is at your fingertips!    How willing are you to have something to trade?    Our guess?     Highly willing.     After all,    if it’s not one of your own,    it’ll be one of your citizens.     Those vigilantes can replace any wriggling worm of a member of government any day!    The time to decide isn’t yours to take,   either.    This file will mutate within forty eight hours until it’s completely unmanageable and then we'll just take all names to the grave. Agents, intelligent officers, operatives, detectives, attorneys, and vigilantes alike.   Happy picking!  

SUMMARY :           THE SNAKE DEN’S   first play on the board.       This will take both the government’s decision in dealing with the Snake Den   or  Red Eye.     Which one is the bigger fish to fry?    The Executioners will also be in the know due to a few media sources covering this update on the Snake Den,   coupled with a few tarot cards being left around city hall.     All with bloody smiley faces drawn on the backs of them.         As for who gave the Snake Den this information?     It was an anonymous source.   Donated quite generously    —     mentioned something about cashing in a favour in a few weeks time in return. As usual, please react to this post once read.