#moss-kun

[kxllercandy-blog]

phantomrestraints

the black gaping mass actually SWALLOWED kyung this is why he likes herscha

[herscha voice] you're mine now kyung hyun

[kxllercandy-blog]

TRASH BABY SHIP PLE

fUCK

who cooks: kyung doesn’t cook for him because herscha skips meals all the time and overworks himself, but he brings herscha coffee and refills his iv drip. gay.

who does the laundry and other chores: can you imagine kyung doing herscha’s laundry. he probably does. and he cleans his office, and then herscha bitches him out for putting his hands on his things.

how many children do they have: CAN YOU ACTUALLY IMAGINE HERSCHA FRITZGES IN CHARGE OF A CHILD. NO.

who’s more dominant: lAUGHS„ herscha. he’s militaristically strict with everyone except his boss and probably treats kyung like a subordinate

favourite non-sexual activity: herscha taking out his frustrations by yelling and cussing at kyung. herscha giving kyung injections. kyung flirting with herscha in class and pissing him off.

their favourite place to be together: herscha’s office/the detention room is kyung’s favourite. this weenie actually skips work on purpose to spend more time with a trash bioterrorist

any traditions: i can’t really think of any?

their “song”: ave maria (this is the kind of stuff i imagine playing while herscha dissects people) or fineshrine - purity ring (thanks moss)

what they do for each other on holidays: kyung probably buys herscha a new surgical mask or pair of gloves for valentine’s day. herscha scoffs at him.

where did they go for their honeymoon: tHEY WENT TO HELL - nah, they wouldn’t get married!

where did they first meet: hope’s peak academy, herscha’s biology classroom

any pets: kyung is herscha’s pet dog tbh

what do they fight over: it’s just over herscha finding things to be pissed off about and throwing a tantrum and kyung trying to console him

do they go on vacations, if so, where: the furthest they’ve been together is herscha’s laboratory

[kxllercandy-blog]

I WANT THE K for le trash baby ship

number 7. strangled

Kyung Hyun starts and wakes up on the gurney in a nauseatingly mint-green hospital room. His body is uncomfortably posed, stock-still and rigor-mortis stiff. The joints in his limbs ache and fail to move properly, although that may be, as he has since realised, because his body is strapped down and his legs in stirrups. Just as Herscha had planned.

It’s probably a discomforting sight, to realise you’re gagged and pitifully desperate, and even more disturbing to have your former biology teacher looming over you as though you were a helpless insect caught in his web. 

"I thought you could at least manage to be a good boy and lie down willingly, but it seems you couldn’t even handle that. I don’t know why I expected anything from you.” His voice is fraught with exhaustion and, of course, irritation, and muffled by his surgical mask; Herscha is standing in front of the stretcher. The room is dark but he’s illuminated by the overhead lamp, and it adds an even more ghoulish touch to his gaunt, spiderlike frame. It would be creepy even without the hypodermic syringe he’s cradling almost lovingly in his gloved hands.

"I’m the one who suffered, you know." Wringing those hands together, the bioterrorist snarled. He had a rather fearsome expression tightening his sickly skin further; despite his relative youth, his work had taken its toll on the dark-haired man, who seemed on the verge of mental breakdown. "Forced into the role of an - ugh - educator, which made my research - so needlessly difficult-" his breath is coming in laboured wheezing, amber eyes narrowed in hatred "- he must consider me- such a disappointment. How I can call myself his assistant-“

Eyes gleaming, Herscha brushed down his labcoat, and climbed atop the stretcher until his frail body awkwardly straddled the taller boy, one jutting, bony kneecap hitting Kyung in the ribcage. Herscha swung his long, dark ponytail over his shoulder and coughed into the confines of his mask, harsh and sickly. His former student’s eyes were wide with fear and he squirmed and jerked in discomfort and terror, but frail as he was, Herscha was able to hold him down, thanks to the confines largely keeping him in place - and the effects of the drug he’d administered earlier making the younger boy’s head loll in slight drowsiness.

This was the closest he had ever gotten to a test subject in physical means, and his skin was crawling already; he longed to disinfect himself, but not until he had finished with Hyun.

"I suppose for you, this is an act of mercy, Hyun,” he scoffed, pale lips curling in scorn. “You don’t have to thank me.” Stabbing the empty syringe into the boy’s collarbone, Herscha’s bony hands closed around his neck. Kyung’s eyes widened, glassy with the beginning of tears, and he tried to thrash against the bioterrorist. Even Herscha found it pathetic, really, how someone as physically frail as himself could have him like an obedient dog with just the help of a simple chemical.

He tightened his hands, bright veins and yellowed, long fingernails and all, and tightened his grip with a squeeze to his windpipe, carelessly, cutting off Kyung’s air supply so abruptly that his throat hitched and made a strangled noise reminiscent of drowning. It didn’t take long before he was limp, collapsed against Herscha, who pushed him away roughly, clambering off his corpse. 

That wasn't his intention; Herscha supposed he had lost his composure, but he could still salvage it. Corpses could be used in tests, too, provided they were fresh - and then there was an incinerator waiting for the hollow shell of what used to be Kyung Hyun, SHSL Escape Artist, now trapped forever.