#then hes been kidnapped or something else nefarious

[saym0-0]

one (1) joelish bean

i never finished the wings bc they r evil 2 me but here u go

ignore the fact that its on the same canvas as a jonny drawing lol

[w2beastars]

Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 23.

I wanted to blog about this gem for a while now. "The Wolf and The Dog" is as Paru as it get.

Meet Adamo.

Adamo is a 61 year old dog, a German shepherd to be specific. And he is a notorious stalker. And he is very good at it, but we will get to that in a minute.

Adamo doesn't think that what he does is creepy. He has an excellent nose and is a born tracker since that's what his family has been bred to be. Yes, even in Beastverse, dogs are a result of selective breeding.

His stalking is not of nefarious reasons as such, he is just obsessed with following animals his nose gets the attention of and learn everything about them for no reason than the satisfaction of the hunt.

But one day, the nose of this old dog catch a very special scent.

On his way home, Adamo notice a female wolf in his train who carries a massive bouquet of flowers with strong pleasant scents. As if she is hiding something. That's something a herbivore would normally do, so this catches Adamo's attention right away. He starts sniffing and learns surprisingly much about her, like that she can't be more than twenty and that she must work in an office filled with females as he can't notice any male scents. And she uses so much makeup and soap, anything to dim her own smell.

In his own mind, Adamo sees himself "painting" the female wolf and he now stalks her to learn everything about her.

Adamo gets sloppy for a second and gets noticed by the wolf. But she apparently doesn't realize he is stalking her, so she just smiles at him and goes on about her business... or her smile is a warning... or perhaps an invitation?

Adamo realize he is much more fixated about this wolf than any other of his targets, spending a month following her around.

It even seems like the old dog starts to have a strong affection towards the female wolf who BTW is named Fasa(appropriate name for her, look it up after reading this blog). She seems like a model citizen, early to bed, early to work and always nice to the elderly.

But in a Paru manga, that's often a red flag.

Adamu gets a closer look at her apartment...

... Damn.

Sure, there are plenty of predators in the Beastverse, but Fasa is an organized one, having chopped up her victim, keeping the different parts in bags in her fridge and eating brain and eyeballs, not wasting anything.

Adamo is shocked by what the female he has a creepy crush on has done and, without thinking, yells something he have not said in a long time:

Yep, Adamo is a retired police detective. No wonder he is such an effective stalker. And seeing someone committing a predator crime wakes up the old cop.

Fasa is however not intimidated by the old fart, she knew she was being watched, she just got sloppy and forgot to close her curtains. She smiles at Adamo when he says he used to be a police officer, recognizing a fellow canine who is a slave to their instincts. Fasa is a slave to her hunting instincts while Adamo is very much a dog, having only joined the police because he is good at tracking and at following orders. And now that he is retired, he keeps tracking other animals because he doesn't know what else to do.

Fasa then embrace Adamo, making the dog terrified as he has no idea if he is gonna end up in the wolf's fridge as well or if she is hugging him since they are "the same".

But then the actual cops comes.

Fasa is surprisingly calm about being arrested, not resisting at all. Feeling guilt about his unhealthy hobby, possibly because he was just reminded that he used to be a cop who arrested creeps like himself, Adamo is about to confess to the police officers that he is a stalker, but Fasa interrupts him.

Fasa claims that Adamo is in her apartment because she had kidnapped him and was about to eat him as well, then whispers to him that they are not similar at all.

... Makes you wonder if that is suppose to be assuring as his stalking is nowhere near as bad a crime as what she has done... or if it is degrading as he as a dog is a pale shadow of what a wolf is.

Either way, she smiles as she tells him to take care of himself, and the manga then ends with a perfect panel:

Adamo stands between the strong-smelling flowers Fasa used to hide the scent of the blood of her victim/victims, like she is covering up for his crime of stalking. The symbolism is chef-kiss worthy!

This is most likely in the top five of the best chapter of Beast Complex. Its a bittersweet tale and it is kinda funny how Fasa manage to appear more noble than Adamo... or at least have more dignity.

That's all for now. I'm Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

[ellephlox]

Concordant

This is a sequel to Discordant — you don't need to have read that oneshot to understand this one, but I'd highly recommend starting there!

In case you do decide to skip Discordant, a short summary is that Reader got in a dangerous situation trying to help out Matt, and so Matt's really angry about it. This is essentially the fallout from that argument.

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Summary: You and Matt are going through a rough patch. Karen and Foggy devise a plan to help out by kidnapping you and Matt to force you to speak to one another encouraging communication and quality time together.

Warnings: mention of a mass shooting, profanity, angst

A/N: I had absolutely no plans to make a part 2 but enough people asked so here we are!!

There was a shooting in Hell's Kitchen. Four dead, eight injured. Shots were fired just after one in the morning at a bar by a white man in his fifties or sixties, according to witnesses. While it was devastating, people claimed it would have been much worse, had the Devil not shown up and knocked out the shooter within thirty seconds, who was now in police custody and awaiting his trial.

Usually, you would have heard a story like this directly from Matt. He would have told you what he'd heard, and how he went into the fight; he would have described whether or not the shooter could actually throw a punch and maybe how he almost botched the whole thing by nearly twisting his ankle on a bit of spilled mac 'n' cheese on the floor. Then he would have assured you that either way you had nothing to worry about, and that yes, of course, he was always careful.

Not this time.

This time, you heard the story on the news while you were getting dressed for work. Hearing Matt's epithet spoken so reverently by the newscaster made your spine prickle with a mixture of anger and hurt, so you muted the television in spite, only to unmute it a few seconds later from raw curiosity.

It had been a week since you'd fought with him. After you had showered and gotten the blood off of yourself, you went back to your apartment, and said not another word to Matt. Something deep inside you thought that he would reach out first, so you kept your window unlocked at night, thinking that a certain horned figure would slip inside and join you under the covers, whispering an apology and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

But no one showed up, and each night you brushed your teeth, alone; climbed under the covers, alone; read under your lamp when you couldn't sleep, alone.

Several times (more like sixteen times — but who was counting?) you picked up the phone and typed in his number, but never dialed. You had only tried to help him, and the fact that he refused to acknowledge your good intentions stung so badly that it kept you from extending an olive branch.

So when your phone rang that morning, you jumped to it; it wasn't as though you had a ton of people that were calling you on a day-to-day basis. It was Foggy, though, and you tried to hide your disappointment with a cheerful greeting.

"You're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," he said. "You have a day off or something?"

"Ha. I wish. I'm on my way into work right now," you said as you locked your door. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Matt, actually," Foggy said. You froze, mouth going dry, but fortunately he continued talking. "He's not here right now. Obviously. Or else I wouldn't be talking about this with you. And I just called him; he said he's just gotten out of the shower, so I've got a safe fifteen minutes at least before he's in the nefarious earshot zone. Which, as you and I both know, is very ambiguous when it comes to our bat-like friend."

"Uh, yeah." You emerged onto the street, blinking in the sunlight. "So you know I'm not with him right now, then."

"Yeah, Matt said that you had something to do at your apartment last night, and that you wouldn't be staying with him."

Ah. So Foggy didn't know that you were in a fight with Matt. You tried to act casual. "Yeah, I didn't see him last night. Word on the news is that he took down that active shooter."

"Oh, don't worry, I've already drilled him on the phone. Demanded to know whether he has any extra holes on him currently."

"That's a creepy way of putting it, Foggy."

"His answer was no," Foggy said blithely. "Anyway, I wanted to know if you knew what was going on with him."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to answer; it was too vague of a prompt to respond to. "Well, what have you noticed?" you asked carefully.

He snorted. "Pretty much everything that exists in the Moody Matt Murdock Archive. There's a never-ending mug of coffee on his desk, he's got extra bruises on his face, and he's so far behind in paperwork that I'm working overtime to cover his ass."

You felt a flare of annoyance on Foggy's behalf. "You don't have to do that. Let him reap the consequences."

"Nah. We're on the same ship, y'know? And if I've got to be the one keeping Nelson and Murdock afloat for awhile, it wouldn't be the first time."

"That's not fair to you."

But Foggy plowed on, unperturbed. "And my guess is that he hasn't been to confession in awhile. Did he go last Sunday?"

Crap. You had absolutely no idea, considering you hadn't seen Matt in days. "You know, I actually was thinking," you stalled, "about how — oh, shit!"

"What?"

"I'm running late!" you said, guilt shooting through you at the half-lie. While it wasn't untrue, it was also a terrible excuse. Poor Foggy didn't deserve either of you. "So sorry, Foggy, I've got to split. I'll call you later?"

"No problem-o," he said, and you gratefully ended the call, having no intention to call him back later with the threat of him questioning you again. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with him knowing that you were in a fight with Matt, but knowing him, he'd try to solve it, and the last thing you wanted was a counseling session led by Foggy.

That, however, was far from the worst encounter of your day.

Because of course in a city like New York, where the total population literally exceeded eight million, you'd run into the one person you didn't want to see, in the line of a local café, of all places. Not to mention it was a café you thought he'd never go to, seeing as you'd never been there with him before and only occasionally went on days like today when you needed a tomato and pesto panini to cheer you up.

At first, you didn't see him when you entered, because you were toggling with your phone to shut off your music and take out your earbuds. Only when you joined the line at the counter and looked up did you instantly recognize the man directly in front of you.

This has to be a cosmic joke. That was all you could think, as you stared numbly from the collar of his button-down to the heels of his shoes. He had obviously noticed you were there; his shoulders were tense, and from the death grip with which he held his cane, you might've thought he was going to turn around and whack you in the head with it.

You almost turned around and walked right out of the store, but defiance kept you rooted to your place. You stayed still, arms crossed, while Matt ordered a Greek salad. When it was your turn to order, he was still standing by the counter, waiting for his takeout to get packaged up.

"Could I have the tomato and pesto panini, please?" you asked the cashier, tapping your foot anxiously as Matt's presence seared on your right. "And also a water?"

"Sure thing. For here or to-go?"

"To-go, please."

"Y/N," Matt said finally, once you finished ordering and there was nothing else to do but face him. There wasn't a hint of a smile on his lips. "I didn't realize you were here."

"Don't worry about it," you told him. "I'm used to you not understanding anything when it comes to where I choose to be." You made your point all too obvious to Matt, whose lips pursed at the end of your sentence. One of the customers next to you gave you a funny look, as though to say, Are you insulting him because he's blind? Embarrassed, you stepped a bit closer to Matt so you could lower your voice. "And you need to get your shit together. Foggy's covering for you. Again. He doesn't deserve that. Just because you're brooding or whatever isn't an excuse to—"

"You're in no place to criticize," he said in a low voice. Without warning his hand shot out and gripped your shoulder with an iron-like strength, steering you to the hall leading to the bathrooms where it was quieter. You pressed yourself against the wall, still crossing your arms over yourself and ignoring the anxious guilt stirring in your chest.

Nope, nope, nope, you cannot be the one to apologize, he's got to do it first, do not apologize, no matter what—

"Foggy's my friend, too, and I have a right to tell you that you should treat him better," you said instead, panic flaring through you at the boldness of your own words. Dammit, stay calm, heartbeat, don't give me away.

Matt's voice was steely. "You've got nerve to say that to me, after everything that's happened."

Your mouth flopped open. "Are you serious? I've got nerve to say that you should treat your best friend better?"

"Did you ever stop to think that I might be spending my time actually helping people? That maybe things have been worse lately and I've been trying to do something about it? Saving this city, making sure that people like you get home safely? That you still get home safely?"

"I didn't ask for that."

"Well, neither did I," he shot back. "Now you know what it's like."

"I don't understand why you're mad at me," you said, frustrated. "I only tried to help. That was all, Matt."

He laughed derisively. "The fact that we've gone over this a few times now and you still can't see what's wrong about it is amazing, Y/N. Yeah, at first I was mad at how reckless your decision was, not to mention that you didn't come in with one single weapon on you. I've gotten over that. Now I'm just pissed that you can't see my side of things. You can't even entertain the thought for one second that I might be right. If you could just acknowledge that you were wrong—"

"That's a lofty ask coming from the same man who hasn't acknowledged my view, either."

"Then maybe we're at an impasse." Matt's eyes were trained on your ear; you could barely see them behind the lenses of the glasses. "Unless you can promise me that you'd never do something like that again."

"That's the dumbest condition I've ever heard," you snarled. "Don't be ridiculous."

Matt's hand abruptly left your shoulder, leaving it cold. "Then that's it. See, this is why I should never have let you know who I am, what I do. Mistakes happen and people get hurt."

"They do," you agreed. "They can get hurt in more ways than one, Matt. Physical pain isn't the only type of pain."

"I won't keep making that mistake, then," Matt said coolly. "And you won't have to worry about me hurting you ever again."

"Greek salad!" one of the workers yelled, and without further ado Matt's hand left your shoulder, leaving a cold spot there. You stared at the beige wall for another minute, and only left robotically once your own sandwich had been made.

Did we break up? The question plagued you all night. You stared at your ceiling, unable to feel even slightly sleepy. It was like a gnawing black hole inside you, and the more you thought about it the more you wanted to cry. Or scream. Maybe both. How had it all gone so wrong?

Crying eventually won out, and you crammed your face into your pillow as tears, unbidden, came out. It pissed you off at the same time, because you had a terrible feeling that Matt probably hadn't shed one tear over it.

He was excited for a chance to break up. You didn't want to believe it, but it seemed too rational to ignore. He'd been all too quick to jump at the chance to be alone again, hadn't he? He'd decided he didn't want to date anymore; it was apparently a failed experiment in allowing someone into both his lives as Matt Murdock and as Daredevil. You couldn't be enough to live in both of those lives with him, and so he had to cut you off. It made sense. Miserably you finally turned your light on and began to read, wondering distantly whether Matt was anywhere near you and if you had even crossed his mind that night.

Somehow you must have fallen asleep at some point, because suddenly your alarm was chiming loudly and light was streaming into your eyes. Groggily you pulled back your blankets and got dressed, showered and made breakfast, and only then did you check your phone.

A message from Karen was there. Slightly bewildered, you unlocked your phone.

Hey, Y/N! Was thinking of taking a drive upstate today. Spur of the moment thing. Want to join?

It was like a blessing; here was Karen, with a distraction ready to go that would get you out of your apartment and, more importantly, Hell's Kitchen. Without hesitation you agreed and she texted back almost immediately to tell you that she'd pick you up in an hour.

"Where are we headed?" you asked once you got into the passenger seat, grinning at her. She had put her hair in a ponytail and already had the music playing. This is exactly what I need. Now you almost hoped Matt would show up at your apartment today, because it gave you immense satisfaction to picture him taking the time to go see you and make amends, only for your apartment to be empty.

"It's a surprise," was all she said, giving you a mysterious smile. "I will say that it's a place meant for rejuvenation and open air."

Rejuvenation and open air. A spa day, maybe? You hoped so.

The drive ended up taking almost six hours. It was far longer than you were expecting and your legs were cramped by the time Karen finally announced that the destination was only five minutes away. The so-called "destination", however, was a bit concerning, because all you'd seen in the past thirty minutes was farmland, trees, and dilapidated signs for MALONE, NY.

"We're here," Karen announced, pulling the car into the lot beside an austere building.

"Uh — if you don't mind me asking," you said, starting to feel slightly concerned, "Where exactly is here?"

"Take a look," she said brightly.

You squinted at the letters sculpted above the doors. "Franklin County Courthouse? We should send a picture to Foggy. He'd find that hilarious."

"We won't have to send a picture, actually." Karen's lips were tight as though she were trying to resist smiling and you suddenly felt uneasy. "Foggy's pulling in, right now."

"What's going on?" you asked suspiciously, but a moment later, your question was answered.

Foggy parked right next to Karen, and right there, sitting sullenly in the passenger seat, was Matt, still dressed in a tee shirt and sweats that had a few old bloodstains on them.

"What the hell?" you hissed, launching yourself back against the seat as though Matt could see you. "Why is he here?"

Karen didn't bat an eye. "You and Matt are being stupid. Foggy and I agreed that you, Y/N, are the best thing that's ever happened to Matt Murdock and we're not going to let you two drift apart over a dumb miscommunication."

"It's not a miscommunication," you argued. "It's him being pig-headed and thinking that he can just—"

"You two both love each other, and that's why you're fighting," Karen interrupted. "So, this is our therapy that we devised."

You stared, agape. "What is?"

Foggy opened up your passenger side door, a wide smile on his face. "Hate to evict you, Y/N, but you've got to get out."

"Excuse me?"

"We're swapping," he said cheerfully. "And you're going to drive back to New York City with Matt."

"I'm — what? No, I'm not!"

"This isn't happening, Foggy." Matt had gotten out of the car and was closing the door. His glasses glinted in the sunlight, sending blinding beams of light bouncing at you. "This is between Y/N and me. Not you and Karen."

"Try and stop us, then," Foggy said, climbing into the car.

Matt was glowering. "I will. I'm warning you, Foggy. If it comes to force, then—"

But Karen only laughed. "Foggy said you'd act all threatening, Matt. It's kind of cute that you think it's going to stop us."

"I did say that!" Foggy was practically aglow. "I told Karen that you'd threaten to go all Daredevil on us, but that's why we picked this venue. See?" He pointed at the courthouse, where there were several security cameras. "Sorry, man. I wouldn't recommend fighting us while on tape or you'll compromise your identity."

Matt's fists were clenched so tightly that even you began to feel a bit nervous.

"How did you even know?" you asked, turning to Foggy. "When I talked to you on the phone, I didn't say anything. And I'm guessing Mr. Cold Shoulder over there didn't confess his feelings to you."

Foggy looked at you, eyebrows raised. "Seriously, Y/N? I knew the moment Matt was moody and you were at your own apartment. You underestimate the sensitivity of my best-friends-are-squabbling-radar."

"This is a waste of time," Matt said. "We're in an argument, and it has nothing to do with you two. So let me ride back with you, Foggy, and Y/N can stay with Karen until she's ready to actually behave like an adult and talk to me—"

"Are you kidding me?" you said, incredulous. "You're the one making this so difficult! And by the way, this is feeling very much like kidnapping — Karen, you sort of lied to me–"

"We never lied. We just didn't specify the truth," she countered. "It's for your own good."

"Here." Foggy tossed the keys to his car at you. "You and Matt enjoy your next six hours together."

"Foggy—"

"Bye!" He slammed his passenger door, and Karen stepped on the gas so hard that you were left in a cloud of dust, coughing as you breathed it in.

Once they were gone, it was the worst silence imaginable that was left. Matt still stood, stiff as a board, beside the car. Not doing it. Not even going to try talking to him. Resolutely you turned on your heel and began to march out of the lot, keeping your chin high.

"Where are you going?" Matt demanded from behind you.

"Home."

"You planning on walking?"

"No."

"Then—"

"There are other methods of transportation, Matthew. I'm going to find a bus. Or a taxi. Or I'll hitchhike. Anything, really, to avoid spending any time in a car with you."

"So you're going to just leave Foggy's car here?"

You halted in your tracks. That was a caveat that you hadn't foreseen. Matt certainly couldn't drive Foggy's car back to Hell's Kitchen. "He deserves it for leaving us here," you said, fighting to keep the uncertainty out of your voice.

To your irritation, Matt snorted. "You're lying."

"Shut up. I'm going to hitchhike."

"Again, you're lying."

"Fine." You stomped back over and jangled the keys. "I'm driving back in Foggy's car, but you're going to have to find some other way to get back because I don't want you in here with me."

"You think I'm thrilled about spending the rest of my Saturday with you, Y/N?" Matt's voice was biting. "But look around you. We're in a small town, upstate New York. The public transportation here is nonexistent."

"Tough."

"Y/N, I don't like this either, but you're going to have to suck it up and drive us back."

"Don't tell me what to do," you snapped. You jangled the keys again. "You're forgetting who has the keys here. I'm in control."

Quicker than the blink of an eye, Matt swung you around, wrapping the crook of his left arm around your neck, and swiping your wallet from your pocket with his right hand. He was warm; you could smell his shampoo just from being pressed, back-to, against his chest. As much as you were pissed at him, your body tingled at the physical touch, and goosebumps rose up your arms before he released you almost as quickly, holding your wallet up as though it were a prize. "Don't be so sure," he said, the corners of his lips lifting up.

You lunged at him, but he easily swapped the wallet to his other hand. "Give me my wallet back!"

"Not until you drive us back."

"What if the security cameras—"

"Foggy and Karen were bluffing. I guarantee there's no one looking over the footage right now."

You cursed under your breath. There was no way you'd be able to get your wallet back from Matt, and without it, you had no money on you. "Fine! Fine. Get in the car, Matthew."

Without a word he climbed in, and you got into the driver's seat.

The first two and a half hours, while horribly uncomfortable, at least didn't involve any talking. You were more than happy to realize that Matt, true to his declaration that he had no interest in riding with you, had no intentions to speak.

And then you had to pee.

You pulled into the first gas station that you drove by and parked by the front. "I need to use the restroom," you said shortly to Matt. "And I'm getting a water."

He didn't answer.

"Do you need anything?" you continued, forcing out the words. "Aside from the ability to empathize?"

Matt's head tilted towards you. "If I needed anything, I'd get it myself."

"Right. You get mad at anyone who tries to help you."

"Quit playing offense and hurry up, Y/N. This is the last way that I wanted to spend my day."

You barely resisted giving him the finger as you slammed the car door and went into the gas station. The cashier handed you a key for a bathroom outside the building, so you went back out and wrapped around to the back of the gas station where there was a rusting metal door labeled TOILET.

The lock took nearly a full thirty seconds to twist, it was so rusted. Only after locking it did you realize it was pointless anyway; there was no one out here for miles and probably the only other roadtrippers along this highway — Foggy and Karen — were ahead of you.

After being careful to not touch the toilet seat and then flushed with the toe of your shoe, you washed up, trying to flatten your hair and examining the dark circles under your eyes.

And then you tried to open the lock. It was so rusted that it took a few moments for it to even budge, and then, with a dusty snap, the lever broke right off and fell on the floor, leaving the door still locked.

For a moment, you just stared mutely at the broken lock. This is the nice, big cherry on top of today. Then you tried the door; it was still most definitely locked, and now there was no way to unlock it.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," you muttered, prodding at the broken part with your finger. Stuck in a gas station bathroom, of course that's what had to happen to you. You wished you'd purchased a water before using the restroom because the prospect of not having water was suddenly making your throat parched.

The cashier, you remembered, had earbuds in, so hollering at him through the wall probably wasn't going to get you anywhere. Still, you rapped loudly on the side of the bathroom wall — hurting your knuckles on it in the process; it was made of cement — and shouted that the lock had broken.

It was to no avail. The cashier didn't show up to help.

What was worse was knowing that Matt could probably "see" everything with his damn echolocation. You didn't doubt that he knew exactly what was happening, from the way you were currently trying to pick at the lock with your bobby pin to the way that your heart was indubitably racing.

And that asshole hasn't bothered coming out to help me. You gritted your teeth and glanced at the tiny awning window in the top left corner of the bathroom, above the toilet.

Well, it would have to do.

You climbed on top of the toilet and reached upwards to unlock the window. It was easy enough to reach, despite the tall ceilings of the gas station, though hoisting yourself through there would be a different question. It wasn't like you spent your nights doing gymnastic feats all around Hell's Kitchen like someone else that you knew.

Who was currently still minding his own business, sitting in the car.

You finally knocked out the screen on the window and struggled to lift yourself up enough that your head could poke through. It was a tight fit, but you could make it.

Now, the only issue was actually getting down safely. You realized, looking down at the pavement below, that it was much higher than you realized. It wasn't as though you had taken any stairs to get into the bathroom, but coming out of a window head-first was a much different story than if you could have gotten out feet-first.

Resolutely you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialed Matt's number.

"Hello?" he said, picking up on the seventh ring.

"You took your damn time answering."

"What do you want?"

"What do you think, Matt? I'm sure you're enjoying this little spectacle of myself that I'm making right now in the world-on-fire."

"Actually, believe it or not, I'm trying to ignore you as much as I can."

You took a deep breath. "I need your help."

"I figured."

You waited. There was only silence. Damn you, Matt. "I mean... can you please help me?"

There was the background noise of the car door opening. "If it gets us home quicker."

It was even more humiliating than you could have predicted when Matt came around the corner of the gas station, tapping his white cane along the pavement until he was no longer within the view of the parking lot or the windows of the building. You wriggled through the window a bit more, so that now your entire top half was practically dangling out of the window, and waited for Matt to line himself up below you.

Only then did you realize he was smirking.

"Are you laughing?" you demanded.

Matt's smile flattened out. "No."

"You were!"

"Maybe. Cut me some slack. You're having to evacuate a gas station bathroom through a narrow window."

"Well, catch me," you said, petulant. "Okay?"

"Ready."

"You're sure? You won't drop me?"

"As tempting as it sounds, no."

You released your grip on the window and dropped out, and true to his word, Matt grabbed you before you could faceplant into the pavement, helping you get upright and brushing some of the dust off of your shoulder.

You would have simply walked away, and gone back into the gas station — because you couldn't allow yourself to get comfortable in his grip, not when he didn't want to touch you, not when you were in a fight, and especially not when you weren't sure you meant anything to him anymore — but he didn't let go.

"Y/N," Matt said, so quietly that your heart flip-flopped. "Y/N, I love you. I love you more than anything and it kills me to not be with you every day."

That was all you needed. You opened your mouth, to respond I love you, too, but he jammed his mouth against yours, kissing you so passionately that you made a small sound of surprise. His hands lowered to your waist and he lifted you up; you wrapped your legs around him tightly and soaked in everything about him — the way his hair felt on your forehead, the press of his chest against your body, the strength of his hands on your back.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you whispered, sliding back down him and landing on the pavement. "I shouldn't have put you through what I did. I would've been pissed too if I were in your position."

"Are you kidding me? You're the bravest girl I've ever met. No one else would have come for me like you did. And I should have respected that. Instead I made you feel like shit about it." Matt's hand traced your jaw. "Can you forgive me?"

"I already have," you admitted.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"I know," you said, and then you laughed shakily. "I guess we'll have to award Karen and Foggy certificates in therapy, then?"

"They'll never let us live it down," he confirmed, and his smile, that look of contentedness and the way that he kept his hand on you at all times as though afraid to lose you, was what told you that everything would be alright.

After all, it was Matt.

[thebiggerbear]

Jason Teague x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Jason has just helped you escape the clutches of his nefarious mother. Where will you go from here now that you know the truth?

Pairing: Jason Teague x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I wanted to dabble in the darker side of Jason's arc in the show and the mention of the stones, Lana, and his mom. There's such a clear line cut of when he turns from being a character that has your sympathies who is striving hard for some redemption we don't yet understand into being revealed as a calculating murderer who has severe mommy issues (I say that with love of course). The original ending was going to be much darker but I'll admit, once I got to it, I just couldn't do it. To Jason or Y/N. So I apologize if this has the feeling of crawling up to the dark edge to peek over it but then a backing off. Hope it's still okay, though.

A huge thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Warnings: mentions of gun, implied violence, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of injuries, mentions of possible murder scenarios, mentions of infidelity

Word Count: 4761

Jason Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Dean version | Jenny version | Tom version | Anael version | SDV Alex version

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Jason unlocked the motel room door and urged you in first as he glanced around, making sure no one else was around. Once you were in, he flipped the light on and moved towards the windows to draw the curtains closed. You remained where he left you, frozen in shock, and dripping on the cheap and questionable-looking carpet.

Both of you were soaked through. You’d gotten caught in the storm when Jason had freed you from captivity, hence beginning the run for your life. Thunder cracked above, causing the motel to shake, and you jumped slightly. You’d been hearing thunder for the last half hour, running in the downpour as lightning ripped through the skies overhead once Jason dumped the car he’d been driving. It was too risky to keep especially since he’d likely stolen it just for this mission alone, thus he’d simply grabbed a bag out of the trunk, tossed it over his shoulder, took your hand, and threw the keys out into the surrounding grass. Ever since, you’d been on the run, Jason leading you to the next town over. When you were both exhausted, Jason had decided on this motel, paid cash for a room, and now you were here. Alone. At any second, you could be taken away again since a certain someone wanted you out of the way and you had a figurative price on your head. Something told you that if you were taken again, this time it would be ensured that you wouldn’t actually survive it. They didn’t want to keep you tied to a chair or temporarily removed from the board — it was clear that they wanted you gone completely. 

You watched Jason move around to further secure the place and, the shock wearing off, you slowly brought yourself to sit down on the edge of one of the beds, not caring that you were probably soaking through the bedspread. You stared into space as flashes of memories began to assault you. You hadn’t been physically tortured, but the things you were told, the things you’d been shown…well, all of that, you’d rather forget. 

You heard a click that made your eyes snap up in Jason’s direction, seeing him checking his gun. That was something new, Jason not only being armed but also apparently being an expert marksman, something he’d proven when coldly and efficiently dispatching your guards. You highly doubted that either of them would ever walk properly again, and it was just one of the many new things you’d learned about your boyfriend these past three days; never in a million years would you have ever thought him capable of wielding a gun. You’d been dating him for six months and it turned out you never really knew him — the real him. Sure, you knew his name was Jason Teague, but you didn’t know just what kinds of things actually came with that name. And to think, you thought the Luthors were soulless, dysfunctional, greedy monsters. 

You stared ahead at the dresser. In a small voice, you stated, “I should call Clark, let him know I’m safe. The Kents can call my parents and let them know I’m okay. Or I can call Lana…if you want.”

Jason stopped what he was doing and his gaze landed on you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his jaw clench and his lips press together. Truthfully, you were surprised he had even bothered rescuing you since it turned out you weren’t the only Smallville native he had been dating. How he managed to pull that one off you couldn’t be sure. Then again, he had managed to keep this side of himself under wraps up until three days ago when all the while, you’d never been the wiser. You were in love and happy, only seeing what he wanted you to see — how could he not be successful at keeping the fact that he was seeing one of your best friends hidden from you, too?

“You can’t,” Jason answered, his tone icy. “It’s too risky right now.”

You managed a slow nod, your eyes never lifting from the dresser. You’d expected as much and honestly, you didn’t want to drag your parents, the Kents, Clark, or anyone else into this mess. You refused to put them in danger; you’d die first, something that was likely going to happen soon anyway. It was probably better for them not to know the truth about what was going to happen to you. Lana… Well, Lana was already caught up in this whether she knew it or not. You just hoped she had a better chance than you did and that she got out of this. And you really hoped that if she found out the truth about Jason (and you really wanted her to) that she would be stronger than you to get past the pain of his betrayal and get as far away from him as she could. He was a walking death sentence and even though she had unknowingly participated in your heartbreak, you didn’t want that for her at all.

Jason crouched down in front of you but you refused to meet his eyes, instead looking down at your lap. “Let’s see those cuts.” You were numb when he pulled your hands to him and studied the indentations and burns the ropes had made on your wrists. He glanced up at you but you kept your gaze on your injuries. “They’re not as bad as I thought they’d be but they should still be cleaned.” He reached over to his bag and pulled out a first aid kit. You watched in confusion as he proceeded to clean your wounds and then bandage them with great care. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost think the old Jason, the Jason who’d come into the coffee shop you worked at every summer day to flirt with you until you agreed to a date, was starting to show through. But you did know better, and you knew that he was a far better actor than you’d ever given him credit for. 

When he was done, he tenderly rubbed a thumb over one of the bandages. “There,” he murmured. This time, when he lifted his eyes to yours, you didn’t avoid his gaze. You tried to see the man you once knew who had actually held you as you cried when your divorced parents’ bickering and dramatics ruined your 18th birthday dinner; you had already been nervous-yet-excited beforehand because you were announcing that you and Jason were going to travel to Europe for two weeks. You’d always wanted to go, but it seemed to be only a dream — one that was out of your reach until Jason surprised you with two tickets to London as a birthday gift. The trip ended up being canceled later anyway because Jason suddenly had to fly to Paris on an urgent business matter for his mother, something that she was going to pay him for. He needed the money since his father had cut him off and he was starting at CKU in the fall. You’d offered to go with him, but he said he wouldn’t have any time for sightseeing, promising he’d call you often and bring you back some French souvenirs, swearing he’d pick out the best spots for you two to return to at a later date. He’d kissed you goodbye and gave you that brilliant smile of his, waving as he moved further into the airport. He ended up staying in Paris for weeks and when he came back, he seemed distant and a little busier, but you chalked it up to him starting classes and his new job right away. Now, obviously, you knew that that wasn’t the case, but as you stared into his jade-colored eyes, you didn’t see a trace of the Jason you’d met before that trip to Paris. He had never really existed, had he?

The real Jason, the one you’d come to know now, cupped your chin and studied your face from all angles. “We’ve been so busy running that I haven’t really had a chance to look you over. Did they hurt you?”

“Not physically.”

Jason’s eyes snapped to yours. “What does that—”

You got to your feet, the action knocking his hand away, and you moved towards the table he’d left the gun on. You stopped right before it and stared down at the weapon, almost as if it was mocking you by being there. 

“Y/N.” You heard the familiar soft call of your voice and you briefly closed your eyes. If only you had never met him… Gentle hands landed on your shoulders and turned you around to face him, seeing the cold aloofness from before had all but vanished. “I need you to tell me. What did they—”

You decided you were done holding back. You’d been through hell the past few days, you were exhausted and depleted of any energy or motivation for anything else, and who knew how long you had? “You never really loved me, did you?”

His eyes widened. “What? Of course I love you, Y/N. I’m here, aren’t I? I went and got you out of there. I—”

“I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for you.”

Jason’s face fell, appearing as if you’d slapped him, and then his expression hardened. “What did my mother say to you?”

Your gaze remained on him. “She told me everything.” You watched as that realization played over his features and his jaw tightened. “So, yeah, I know about the stones, you and Lana…” His eyes appeared to be slightly glassy (or maybe it was the lighting from the lamp behind you) as he cocked his head a little, looking at you, yet he didn’t even try to deny it. How could he? It was nothing but the truth, and worse, his mother had been the one to tell you that truth; how was that for irony? “When you canceled our trip, when you didn’t want me to go to Paris with you, how distracted you were when you came back, how busy you were — it really explains everything, doesn’t it?” His gaze softened slightly and he briefly hung his head. “I was just too stupid to see it.”

His head snapped up. “No,” he insisted, laying a hand on your cheek. “You weren’t stupid. I was. I should have let you go the moment I met Lana in Paris.”

Even though you thought your heart couldn’t break any more than it already had these past three days, it turned out you were wrong. Your eyes began to sting as tears built up in the corners. While you already knew of his two-timing, you didn’t think he’d come right out and just say it, and in such a blase manner to boot. And how easily you would have been tossed aside, as if you’d meant nothing…that hurt.

A hurt that mirrored your own flickered across his face as he gently cupped yours. “But I didn’t want to.”

“Why?” You choked out.

“Because you mean the world to me,” he murmured, placing his forehead against yours. “Because you’re what I want and I was too selfish to give you up.” He ran his nose along yours just like he used to and you involuntarily shivered. “I love you, Y/N. Always have.” His eyes dropped to your lips and when he leaned in, you pulled away and stepped closer to the table. 

“No, you don’t. If you did, you never would have put me in danger or let me become mixed up in all of this while you pursued one of my best friends behind my back. You would have just left me alone in that coffee shop,” you gritted out, a tear slipping down your cheek that you quickly wiped away. “What was the point of it all, Jason? Was I just some distraction for you that you could drop at a moment’s notice when your mother called? And Lana,” You scoffed and wiped away another tear. “It would be one thing if you actually loved her, but you’re just using her to get the stones. You’re doing the same thing to her that you did to me. You used both of us! And for what? Some ancient stones that your mother believes are supposed to give her some sort of power? So that you make Mommy Dearest happy and can go back into the unhealthy Teague fold? What’s the motivation here?”

He swallowed compulsively as you laid bare his transgressions, yet his eyes never left your face. “I never used you.”

You huffed out a laugh of disbelief. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

His jaw tensed but he stayed silent.

You slowly nodded and after a moment, your eyes trailed to the gun on the table between you. “So when do you use that on me? When your mother tells you to, or when you’re finally done with me?”

You heard a tiny choked sound and you glanced up to find Jason staring at you in horror. He rushed over to you, causing you to stiffen, and he gripped your face as he searched your eyes. “I would never hurt you!” Too late on that count. He watched as another tear rolled down your cheek and his expression softened. “Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” he entreated softly, wiping away the tear with his thumb. “You were never supposed to know about any of this. I kept you at a distance when I came back because I didn’t want you becoming mixed up in this. My mother, she promised she’d leave you alone if I just…” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I never wanted you to see this side of me. Ever. My plan was just to get her what she wanted, this last thing, and then I’d be free to come back here, be with you, and start over, live my life, but…” He shook his head. “I guess that’s all a moot point now, isn’t it?” A tiny smile played upon his lips, devoid of any mirth, as he let you go and turned his back to you, running a hand down his face.

You glanced once more at the gun, wondering if you should try to grab it but you weren’t sure if you were fast enough. And if you did get the gun, what then? Would you really be able to use it against him, to pull the trigger?

“If you want to walk out that door, I won’t stop you.” Your gaze snapped up to Jason’s back. “Just promise me you’ll take it with you.” You briefly flicked your eyes to the gun once more. “It’s fully loaded. And there’s plenty of cash in the bag. Take it all with you, run as far as you can until you can get safe, stay off the grid, and I’ll do everything I can to keep her from going after you. I’ll distract her with the stones, lie and say I killed you so she’s satisfied, whatever it takes.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. Run? You didn’t know how to run or stay off the grid. Maybe you’d seen something like it in a movie once, but that was fiction, not reality. Did he really think Genevieve Teague would believe his lie about you? Granted, he was good at lying as you now knew but he wouldn’t be able to fool her. Unless she was right in what she had told you, that you never really mattered to Jason in the first place, so it wasn’t too far-fetched for her to believe that you’d be so easily disposed of without a second thought by her son. “And how long is that supposed to buy me, Jason?” 

“There’s enough money in there for you to start over, to get a new life. You could go anywhere in the world you want. Canada, Cape Town, Tokyo, England.” At that, your eyes burned once more but you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Anywhere you want to go.”

“And my parents?” You bit out. “My life? Graduating high school at the very least?”

“You making it out of this alive is more important than any of that.” Jason let out a sad sigh. “It’s my fault you’re in this now, that you’re in danger, but I promise I never wanted this for you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry, I really am.” He turned his head slightly back towards you. “I do love you, Y/N. I always have. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I always wanted to come back and have things be like the way they used to be. I miss those days more than you know,” he ended in a whisper.

“You can’t go back,” you whispered back.

You saw his shoulders drop slightly and he nodded. “I know.” His tone sounded defeated. “And that’s why you should go. But before you do, I need you to know one thing.” 

You waited for him to say whatever he was planning on saying.

“You were never a distraction. That trip to Europe we were planning, those nights under the stars, everything we talked about, us…that was the real deal.”

Your lip wobbled and you bit down into it, trying to keep the tears at bay as a memory resurfaced of you and Jason lying on the hood of his car under the clear night sky. He showed you where all of the constellations were (initially, you only knew where the Big and Little Dippers were), and you’d both spoken about each of your dreams for your lives. After you’d excitedly pointed out a shooting star, he’d told you to close your eyes and make a wish. You did and that was when he kissed you for the first time. He’d breathlessly asked you about your wish afterwards and you’d smiled right at him, saying it came true. He’d given you that bright smile of his in return and leaned in to kiss you again, murmuring, “Mine too.”

Another memory shook loose of a night you’d stayed with him. He had been staying at a local B&B over the summer before his trip to Paris. When you two began to get serious, you’d taken to spending more time with him there, even sneaking out a time or two to stay the night unbeknownst to your parents. Nothing ever happened between you during that time but he would hold you and you both would laugh and talk and just enjoy being together. One such night, you’d fallen asleep but you had a nightmare. Someone was chasing you and you were running for your life. You ran into Jason telling him that you both needed to run, but he didn’t seem to understand the danger you both were in. He seemed distracted and looking elsewhere, not at you or where you were pointing. It wasn’t long until this unidentifiable assailant caught up to you and at the last second, Jason stepped in front of you, telling you to run right before he was killed in front of you. You’d woken with a loud gasp, your scream caught in your throat, and shot right up in bed. 

Jason had immediately awoken and was trying to calm you down, to get you to breathe as he tenderly rubbed your back, and he kept telling you it was just a nightmare. You didn’t tell him what the dream entailed but you’d thrown your arms around his neck and held him close as he attempted to comfort you. Eventually, he’d laid you both back down, his hand gently running through your hair as you kept your head on his chest, your ear positioned perfectly over his beating heart to reassure yourself. 

“It was just a dream, sweetheart,” he had hummed against your forehead. “I’m right here and you’re okay.” Hearing his soothing words and heartbeat, feeling the tender caresses of his hand up and down your back, you did start to drift back off, hoping against hope the nightmare didn’t continue. You weren’t sure how you’d endure a world without Jason in it, even just a dream world. Just before you’d fallen back into slumber, you’d heard him murmur sleepily to you, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” You’d smiled and whispered that you loved him which caused him to smile as well and whisper the sentiment back to you. And he had — kept you safe, that is.   

And now here you were, considering taking the gun and running for your life like you had in that nightmare, though this time was real and you would now also be running from his mother, from him. How had things gone so terribly wrong in only a few months’ time? 

Another tear slipped down your cheek but this time, you didn’t wipe it away. “It was for me, too,” you admitted in a whisper.

Jason slowly turned back to you and you could see a recent tear track on his own cheek. “This was never supposed to happen,” he said softly. He drifted towards you and perhaps you were so caught up in memories that you didn’t back away or even tense up. Instead, when he laid a hand against your cheek, you leaned into it. Despite everything he’d said and done, despite how much he hurt you and your life had become a casualty due to his choices in his mother’s obsessive quest for a particular set of artifacts, your heart still yearned for him. When he moved even closer, leaning in to kiss you, you welcomed it. When more memories began to wash over you, of everything you had lost and would lose, you threw your arms around him and kissed him more passionately, tears rolling down your cheeks. Gone were the plans of you attending CKU with him; gone were the plans of you two moving in together, spending the holidays with your family, and traveling abroad to see all of the places you both wanted to see; gone was the future Jason had talked about wanting to have with you eventually down the road — all of it was just gone in a single moment of Genevieve Teague revealing who her son really was and just how much control she had over him. You supposed you hadn’t really had time to properly mourn the end of those dreams, of your relationship, everything you believed it had been — it only made sense to kiss it goodbye. Literally.

When you both broke apart for air, he laid his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered.

“Then don’t.”

His eyes snapped open in surprise. Truthfully, your words surprised even you. He lifted his head and looked down at you, his brows furrowing and his face lining with a mix of suspicion and confusion. Still, his green gaze lit with a dim gleam of hope. 

“You don’t have to be this person anymore. You can give it all up and walk away. You said yourself that there’s more than enough money in that bag to start over somewhere new.” He went to say something when you framed his face with your hands, gazing up at him as earnestly as you could. “So do it. Make a different choice.”

He stared into your eyes. “Y/N,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I—”

His cell phone began to ring on the table, near the gun. You both turned to glance at it before turning back to each other. You silently pleaded with him to do as you’d suggested. He had made it sound so easy, that you could walk out that door and start all over — if it was that easy, why couldn’t he do the same? Your heart sank when he gently removed your hands from his face and began to move towards the table.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat and though your eyes burned with new tears, they didn’t fall. He watched you as he approached the ringing phone and picked it up in his hand. You felt numb as you took a step forward and picked up the bag, slinging it over your shoulder. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make a different choice, and it was clear that you were also screwed and needed to run like he’d told you. If his mother was calling him, then that meant she already knew he had helped you escape and she could be on her way right this second, or worse, right outside the door. You picked up the gun and you hated how it felt in your hands. It was heavy, sure, but also light enough that you could easily lift it and fit your finger inside the trigger handle at a moment’s notice. You’d never shot a gun before so you probably wouldn’t hit whatever or whoever you targeted, but at least you’d be able to wield it to an extent.

The next thing you knew, Jason hurled the ringing phone at the wall, making you jump as it loudly cracked into two pieces.

You turned wide eyes on him but he quickly approached you, his jaw clenched. For a moment, you wondered if you’d actually have to try to use the weapon in your hand to try to defend yourself, though you didn’t know if you had it in you to hurt him. Sure, you’d fight to survive, but your traitorous heart still loved him. Luckily, you were spared from having to make that decision when he snatched it out of your hand (which did make you a bit nervous at first) and cupped your face, his green eyes staring into yours, that slight hope from earlier now a blazing inferno mixed with determination. “A different choice,” he whispered, almost as if he was sounding out the words for the first time. After a moment, he gave you a slow nod, put the gun away, and leaned in to brush his lips against yours. “Let’s do it.”

“Really? You’re sure?” You breathed, your heart starting to lighten inside your chest.

A tender smile stretched across his face and he kissed you again. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He kissed you one more time and took your hand, leading you to the door.

You stopped in your tracks, though, when a thought hit you. “My parents…”

“Let me get us out of here and we’ll decide what to do about letting them know you’re okay without tipping off my mother.”

You nodded, still beyond surprised that he had actually listened to you considering how tightly his mother seemed to have control over him. “Jason, are you really sure? Won’t your mother be even more upset if you leave and don’t help her with the stones? And what about Lana? I don’t want her to get—”

He laid a gentle finger on your lips and kissed your nose. “Like I said, let me get us out of here first. We’ll handle everything else after. Okay?” At your nod, he smiled again, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you could go anywhere in the world today, where would you go?”

You nearly smiled at the familiar question — it was similar to the one he’d once asked you, beaming right before he’d pulled out the two tickets to London from behind his back, making your eyes widen and you practically squeal with glee before launching yourself at him and pressing kisses all over his face, making him laugh. You could see his eyes soften slightly as you realized he was reliving the same memory.

This time, you gave it some thought before answering, “Iceland.”

“Iceland?” He asked, sounding pleasantly surprised. 

You nodded. “It’s supposed to be beautiful there. I’ve seen pictures and I’ve always wanted to go. Plus, it never gets fully dark there.”

He tenderly stroked your chin with his thumb. “And we could see the Northern lights when it does,” he murmured.

“We’d never be fully in the dark, there’d always be light.” You pressed your lips together and stared up at him meaningfully. “I like the sound of that.”

He ran his hand gently over your hair and his affectionate smile grew as he nodded. “Then Iceland it is.”

[merakiui]

scaramouche thought catalogue.

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, kidnapping/captivity, mention of baby-trapping, mention of murder/violence, mostly gender neutral, although a few thoughts written with implied female reader, mention of implied baby-trapping)

✧ prince scaramouche who you are in a secret relationship with. perhaps you're one of his attendants, or maybe you're a royal from a neighboring kingdom who occasionally comes to visit. the two of you probably hooked up at the gala in your kingdom. it's easy to lose yourself in good drinks and company. when you and the prince from a land of endless thunder and lightning retreat to a dark, abandoned corridor, fueled by the warmth of high-quality liquors and lustful attraction, you allow yourself the temporary comfort of sloppy kisses and wandering hands. no one's allowed to know of your scandalous relations with prince scaramouche, especially not when (many years later) your kingdoms are at war and the both of you are still in a secret relationship. scaramouche is on the path to murderous tyranny, and when he captures you as a spoil of war you assume he's merely pretending in an effort to cast any suspicions aside. but then you find yourself locked away in a private slice of the palace, and your only visitor is the wicked prince who wants more from you than just loveless sex.

✧ stalker scaramouche who keeps a list of everyone who has ever wronged you. whether it was a date gone sour, an old bully, a hateful ex... he’s organized his list by how much of a threat these people are to you and is willing to go to extremes to ensure they never hurt you again. scaramouche does whatever it takes to keep you safe. after all, you were the only one who extended your hand in friendship when he was labeled the “weird” kid in primary. you were the one who shared snacks and stories with him, who made sure to bring an extra lunch because he rarely came to school with one. he’s loved you for years now. unfortunately, when his mother was consumed by her grief and his aunt miko took him out of school, he never got to see you again. but now that he’s found you years later he’s started protecting you from the shadows. he’s even applied to work at the same place as you so that he can continue to look after you. scaramouche will leave home-cooked meals at your desk or doorstep or even in your work locker. you never touch them. it annoys him when you dump his hard work into the trash all because you think something nefarious has been added. he’d never hurt you...until he does. you’re getting too friendly with a coworker; scaramouche hates it with a passion. the next meal he makes comes with a note written in handwriting that perfectly mirrors your coworker’s. you eat that meal without any hesitation; funny how a little note changes everything. scaramouche doesn’t want to hurt you, but sometimes chewing glass is enough punishment for you to realize that everyone else in this world is rotten and that he’s the only one who can save you. when you’re hospitalized, he’s the first to send flowers and a card without a signature. written in the same script as your coworker are the words: if you don’t want to eat rat poison next, i suggest you stop talking to that person. and then a final line: get well soon. :) 

✧ trust-fund kid scaramouche who uses his status as ei’s son (she’s a ceo of a very successful company and miko is second-in-command) to bully you into submission. you’re hard-working and determined (two qualities scaramouche despises). he’s rich, so he doesn’t have to bother with work. he forces himself into your life, always insulting you with a cheeky smirk. he could be nice and give you a cushy life. all you need to do is agree to a single date with him and he’ll put you in a nice apartment, cover your bills, pay for your groceries. just one date. is that really so much to ask for? he’ll flex his wealth whenever he’s near you, as if that will push you closer to agreeing. you always decline his offers. scara’s beginning to grow frustrated. what must he do to have you all to himself? since you’re always overworking yourself, he’ll just force a break on you so that you’ll have no choice but to rely on him. maternity leave will give you plenty of time to realize you’re better off choosing him. 

✧ catboy scaramouche. you find an injured stray cat with the most beautiful, albeit matted and tangled, fur and so you bring him back to your home. you give him a bath (even if he protests and scratches your arms ferociously). you brush his fur, you bandage his wound, you feed him, you allow him to explore your house. he’s suspicious of you, but eventually he warms up to you and is not as averse to your presence as he was before. imagine your surprise when you return home, fully expecting to see your cat, when instead all you see is a man with cat ears and a tail dressed in an apron and attempting to follow a recipe. you learn that he was cursed to be this way after offending a god and now he must live out his punishment as a cat-human hybrid. you don’t mind it very much; in fact, you’re just glad to have a roommate. but this friendship soon turns dark when scaramouche starts returning home late at night, often smelling suspiciously of blood. he’s just hunting birds. it’s just cat instincts. that’s what he tells you. but when you find a shoe box tucked away in your closet and it’s filled with human teeth, some chipped, some with nerves still attached from where they were ripped from the gums, and some looking like they were nearly shattered into dust you start to realize something’s very wrong with your usually grumpy catboy. when he returns at midnight months later, dragging something heavy in a black bag, you fear the worst. he’s not hunting birds. he’s hunting humans. you have no idea why and you’re too scared to ask.

✧ scaramouche railing you in the mech. there is no plot to this thought. just,,, the two of you hidden within the mech; he tells you to be quiet unless you want the sages to hear your lewd sounds. unless you want them to hear their soon-to-be god fucking you into an incoherent, babbling mess. you’re pressed against the interior of the mech, with scaramouche pounding into you from behind, his hands wrapped tightly around your throat. he’s telling you of how, once he beats the traveler and that useless god of wisdom, the two of you will be free to bask in divinity for all of eternity. he’s rougher than usual; you suspect he’s fucking the frustration and nerves away. not that he has anything to be nervous about, though, right? he’ll win, right? (he does not win.)

✧ on the subject of god!scaramouche, consider a cult au in which dottore is the leader of a cult that worships scaramouche, a slumbering god who is prophesied to awaken when enough sacrifices are offered to him. every ritual, each devoted follower, is all part of dottore’s secret experiment. when he convinces you (a friend from university) to visit after you’ve confided in him about the...strange dreams you’ve been having (dreams involving a being who calls himself shouki no kami, who warns you of impending doom, who says the only way out is through him), you quickly find yourself wrapped up in something much larger. what starts as good-natured fascination with your uni friend’s unique and covert hobbies and a natural cleanse from the nightmares devolves into horror when you learn he plans to use you as the final sacrifice to reawaken shouki no kami. unbeknownst to him, scaramouche has been communicating with you for months now and has found himself enthralled. after you’ve been trapped within the cult, with your death looming ever nearer, scaramouche visits you in your dreams once more and begins to plot an escape with you. he’s been so sweet to you, so you trust him. he’s all you have. and he’s all you’ll ever have after he slaughters the cult and takes you as his prize. he needs a bride, after all, and you’re just perfect for him. they say the sky reflects the color of the earth the day shouki no kami awoke. it was a dreadful, horrifying crimson.

✧ also another concept without much plot, but consider a situation in which the different versions of scaramouche somehow become their own beings. there’s kunikuzushi, the puppet who was set free by ei. there’s scaramouche, the sixth fatui harbinger. and there’s wanderer. all of them love you to extremes in their own special, unhealthy ways. <3 and the three scaramouches always bicker over who is more deserving of your love. kuni is softer, but stiflingly obsessive and clingy. scaramouche is cruel and possessive. wanderer is sweet, a menace most of the time, but still not to be trusted, especially not when a vision allows him to have so much fun.

[lookismstuff]

Highlights of Ep 480

(SPOILER ALERT)

Gun rejected Goo's offer of leaving Charles, by saying that he already sided (in his words: "drank a cup") with someone else. But he told Goo that he still drank the sake for Goo as a friend, even though he didn't like alcohol. Goo told Gun that from then on they were sworn enemies.

Eli and Hudson had an offstage fight that again ended in Hudson's defeat. Hudson swore that he would rise again for the 4th time because he promised Taesoo that he would defeat Eli.

Eli told Hudson flat outright that he wouldn't apologize for what he did in Ansan. He had to protect his family just like Hudson did everything to protect his. He knew that Hudson only joined Allied to get revenge but so be it.

Hudson then insisted on following Eli at Hostel HQ but was surprised that Eli even asked him if he had a place to stay, and that the Hostel kids were nice to him and even teased him. Warren even gave him a dishwashing shift, and Sally eventually even left a note welcoming him to the house.

Gyeol (the fake doctor) went missing since after 1A fight along with Hangyeol (Hulk). Apparently Charles came to 1A discreetly at night by causing a blackout (he either hit or send someone to hit the area transformer).

Eugene guessed that it must have been Charles who abducted those two, and as Mandeok wondered why, Eugene explained to him that Jinyoung probably knew something about Charles that the nefarious CEO wanted to hide.

In a flashback, Charles tortured Gyeol to find out about Jinyoung and whether Jinyoung told Gyeol anything. Gyeol really had no idea, but Charles didn't believe him and keep torturing him.

Hangyeol the Hulk (also in the flashback) defended his brother in tears. It turns out that he still remembered and loved his brother, even though Gyeol turned him into a monster.

Then Charles took the two of them out of the 1A facility after defeating Hangyeol, ensuring (and sneering) that no evidence would be left behind.

Out of nowhere, James called Eugene about a video evidence that Charles left behind that James recorded, as Charles left the facility.

James told Eugene that he had been tailing Charles since the day Charles killed Bakgoo and Jichang in Chungcheong-do. Plus, now the video of the kidnapping of a minor (Gyeol) existed. He asked (challenged?) Eugene to make sure the evidence didn't disappear and to make it tenfold.

Eugene agreed with James's plan.

[the-entire-cast-needs-therapy]

Let’s talk about Adora in Princess Prom

So, for context, because this will be important later: at this point in the series, between Adora’s defection and the All-Princess Ball, Catra and Adora have only fought once. Well, “fought” is a strong word- Catra climbed up to Adora while she was trying to heal the Sea Gate, vented at her a bit, scratched her, and then got blown away by Mermista. That is it. Catra hasn’t kidnapped her friends yet or thrown her off a cliff. Honestly, the biggest blow Catra has dealt to Adora so far is probably refusing to defect with her.

Okay, okay. So, I have been Inspired (by @ericas-spop-blog​ . Again.) and I have Thoughts about Adora and how she behaves towards Catra at the ball- some joking and some more serious. I’m putting all of them here because it’s easier.

The Part Where I (Lovingly) Dunk On Adora

Adora sees Catra and all thoughts except “prevent Catra from Catra-ing” fly out of her head. She immediately tries to get them kicked out because “they’re from the Horde”, even though Adora already knows at this point that Frosta doesn’t see the Horde as a threat (and bugging her about it more will probably only irritate her). And then she loudly announces her intention to stalk Catra (and to have Glimmer stalk Scorpia, which goes Great)... why, exactly? I get just following them around to make sure they don’t kill anyone, but why tell them about it? To intimidate them? Adora, babe, all you’re doing is letting Catra lead you on a wild goose chase.

Everything Catra does here is comically minor, by the way. “Ooo, I’m gonna show up with a date. And she’s gonna be even buffer than you. And I’m gonna leave you a silly little ‘hi adora :3′ note because I know you will dig through the trash for it. And I’m going to make friends with your weapons dealer. Truly, I am evil and heartless”- Catra, probably. 

“Oh god oh no Catra is existing again I have to stop her. Yes she has done Literally Nothing but her intentions are nefarious I can feel it in the Force. There is trash on the floor now. Surely the next time she does something suspicious-looking it will actually be something that proves she is being Bad. I will crack this case if it is the last thing I ever do” -Adora, probably.

Catra is undoubtedly screwing with her, but honestly she wouldn’t even have to. She could just pretend Adora wasn’t there and go about her night, and it would still keep Adora occupied. But it’s more fun to leave her notes and chat up her friends and dance with her.

And then Adora tackles Catra across the room. And that is where I have to get a little more serious.

The Part Where We Talk About How Creepy This Is

Adora is obsessed with catching Catra in the act of doing something wrong, in order to validate her own suspicions. And while she might make the token effort of acknowledging Scorpia, it is all about Catra to her. Even when she actually gets information that suggests the Horde is actually up to something (Bow and Scorpia disappearing within the same timeframe), she puts the blame on specifically Catra- “what did you do to him”.

And I think it’s important to mention at this point that Catra has no idea what happened to Bow. She literally cannot know, Adora has been on her tail (ha) the entire night, and she hasn’t talked to Scorpia since Scorpia went to plant the heat bombs. When she says they did “nothing permanent” to him, she is just egging Adora on. And we have no reason to believe kidnapping Bow was even part of the plan- Glimmer, maybe, but Bow? Scorpia doesn’t lure Bow away, he leaves on his own and stumbles upon her, at which point she has to stop him from telling anyone else what she’s doing. Why Catra even brings Bow up in the first place, I don’t know, but my guess is that her ears are good enough that she overheard Adora talking with Glimmer and Perfuma and decided to fuck with her a bit. And it worked. Spectacularly.

Adora violently snaps at Catra in the middle of the dance floor and grills her instead of doing something useful like, oh I don’t know, trying to find him? The only possible point to doing this- specifically, to doing it publicly- is to get Catra to confess that she did something, that Adora isn’t crazy, that she was right. And even after she gets frozen in a block of ice and the palace starts exploding, well.

Fucking hell, Adora, this is embarrassing. Look, Catra does not “have Bow”. Catra has been in the room with you the whole time, dancing and getting beaten up. Scorpia, who you know went missing earlier, is the only logical culprit. But Adora is so determined to blame Catra that she just... ignores all that. Maybe because she doesn’t want to admit she spent all her energy on the decoy.

And it’s honestly a little worrying that Catra knew that using herself as a decoy would work so well. That she knew Adora would latch onto her like this and not catch on to the ruse. It implies that this behavior is normal for Adora, expected of her. That Adora’s first instinct is always “blame Catra” (and then secretly blame herself for not stopping her, but I don’t think Catra knows that). Catra isn’t at all surprised by the way Adora conducts herself, even though they haven’t been enemies for that long. She’s seen this before.

[snickerdoodlles]

Kim is my favorite character but Chay is the most special™️ boy in the universe :p that’s why I keep thinking of an AU where everything is mostly the same except that like in the Sandman there are anthropomorphic personifications of the fundamental concepts of the World (they are: Dream, Death, Destiny, Desire, Delirium, Despair and Destruction) and Chay is casually besties with Death, most people don’t know they even exist and the Mafia fam knows that there’s some kind of magic in the world but nothing more than that.

This comes out when they’re “casually” talking about some horrible thing that Korn did and Chay just looks at Kim and asks “if there was a way for him to die and have nobody be responsible for it, would you want him dead?” And he’s like “yeah, obviously” and Chay is like “okay! :D” and like two days later Korn just dies out of nowhere and nobody can prove it but everyone knows that Chay had something to do with it so Kim just asks and Chay just tells him he asked a friend to do him a favor and Kim is like “???” until Chay is like “yeah, that friend is literally the anthropomorphic personification of the concept of Death :D” everyone else is for some reason also there.

Chay doesn’t tell anyone this bc they would lose their shit if they knew but they met Death when they died accidentally when he was like 4 and when Death came to collect him, they just told her very politely that he couldn’t go with her bc that would made Porsche sad, she found him adorable and let him stay alive! They have been friends ever since.

Tankhun kind of knew that the personifications existed but never told anyone, he met Despair & Delirium when he was kidnapped :) to be fair he thought he was hallucinating.

I practically just told you my favorite daydream about those two 😂 tbf I thought you would find it interesting

-⏳💤💜

anon

anon I am kissing you on the forehead, this is DELIGHTFUL

Chay!!! as besties with Death!!!! Death a common friend to all but the deepest connection with CHAY. I love your day dream, I had in fact immediately pictured Korn's bloody ruthlessness being in part an effort to court Death for his own nefarious purposes, and Chay's like "oh? do you want to meet her then?" and Death arrives and gently tells Korn he's always had her attention, he never had to try to catch it, and Korn feels very smug about this until she holds out her hand and Korn realizes he's just dead and she means she knows everyone who passes through her lands eventually, he's not special.

(I hope!!! You do not mind me playing with your day dream! Yours is a beautiful idea, I hope I added and didn't impose 😂🙏)

but oh mannn, I'm right there with you in that Kim is my favorite but Chay is my most specialest boyTM, and I have a silly day dream for them too actually! I'm not sure if you've ever heard of the Wayward Children series by Seanan McGuire? it's a novella series centered around the concept of portal fantasy worlds, with a bunch of children who had gone to different alternate worlds and are now back on earth, trying to make a life after and several waiting/hoping to return to their worlds. I had actually first had a weird mashup of that series and bad buddy, but then kp came out and I fell down that rabbit hole and my brain shifted the day dream to accommodate Chay going to a different world where he'd gotten literal wings before he was returned to earth (reason typically being for Porsche). and something-somrthing happens, the exact reasons for this next bit change, but somehow he and the other boys are in danger, Chay's door opens again for him, and he drags all thr boys with him for safety and they all learn our boy is MagicTM. Kim is 😍 x100 obvs, he doesn't really care about the specifics he just cares about Chay lol. Porsche's reactions vary but usually around I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST A GAME WE PLAYED AS KIDS, and Kinn and Khun are just. Baffled. Mind blown. What the fuck is happening, this is very cool but still WHAT?!

[arthdoesart]

“What the hell is happening now?!” 

Effie held the drunken victor back from hurling a chair towards their only working television. While she was not made an account by the anonymous people that have kidnapped the children, the former escort was still highly upset, like the rest of them were, when all of their voted scores have all been outright denied. 

In order to score Tribute zero-zero-one, please make sure to input the serial number first. 

Now, you don’t have to manually apply this for District Three is already assigned to unlock the security pass so that everyone can be allowed to vote—

“They’re asking us for a passcode…” Peeta said tiredly, looking at the screen with silent glowering contempt. "It was easier when they would just announce it on television." 

"Yeah? Well, I have a feeling they're not exactly making it easy on purpose." 

Haymitch spat, backing away from the broadcast of a struggling seventeen-year-old Capitol child, who by any means, did not possess the same level of skill as Careers when it came to using a sundry of knives and spears. 

It was pathetic watching the teenager even make an attempt on his part. But what else could the boy do, really? 

"...what happens if he doesn't get a score?" Katniss grimly brought up beside Peeta, her knee bouncing in trepidation for the potential consequence if they're unable to rate him on time. 

Her sharp, ashen seam-like eyes scanned the countdown needed for all the Districts to give their votes. It ran for 60 seconds at least, but now it's down to 40. 

"It won't come to that," Peeta tried to assure her, looping an arm around to pull her close by the shoulder so he could plant a comforting kiss on the side of her forehead. "They all need scores, Katniss. I doubt the people behind this won't give them any—" 

"But it's up to us to give them something!" 

Chapter 2 of Royale Capitol Games will be posted now on ao3 :)

And as always this series is dedicated to @plvtarch

The Royale Capitol Games (18625 words) by PinkMuseSundays Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes - Suzanne Collins Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Alma Coin/Plutarch Heavensbee, Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair (mentioned), Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark, Katniss & Primrose Everdeen (mention), Haymitch Abernathy & Plutarch Heavensbee, Caesar Flickerman & Plutarch Heavensbee, Fulvia Cardew & Plutarch Heavensbee, Alma Coin & Plutarch Heavensbee Characters: Plutarch Heavensbee, Alma Coin, Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, Effie Trinket, Beetee Latier, President Paylor, Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta, Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair's Son, Finnick Odair (mentioned), Enobaria (Hunger Games), Caesar Flickerman, Coriolanus Snow, Coriolanus Snow's Granddaughter, Fulvia Cardew, Gale Hawthorne, Original Characters Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Thriller, Mystery, Kidnapping, Romance, Drama & Romance, Quarter Quell (Hunger Games), Fourth Quarter Quell, Inspired by Black Mirror (TV), Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, 76th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe, Child Death, The Capitol (Hunger Games), Capitol Hunger Games, Suffering!Heavenscoin, Funny!Hayffie, Veteran!Everlark, Canon-Typical Violence, Hunger Games Victors, Victors as a Family (Hunger Games), Plutarch and Haymitch bromatism, Plutarch "I'm so stressed out" Heavensbee, Alma "This is what I fucking deserve" Coin, Caesar "That's how you put on a show" Flickerman Series: Part 4 of The odds came with blood and peppermints Summary: "To remind the Capitol that their nefarious deeds will never be forgotten, twenty-four children are reaped from their families to participate in a Battle Royale. Unlike its predecessor, the tributes are chosen at random despite their age, sex, and societal status." The voice chuckled over the last line, as if disbelieving any of the kids from the Capitol were beyond poorer than the high middle-class citizens. "…of course, tributes who refuse to participate within the rules of the game will have their shock collars activated. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the first ever Royale Capitol Games, with it also being the Fourth Quarter Quell from the discontinued series of the Hunger Games." The announcer laughs, unaware of the sheer number of Capitol parents that have fainted from the live announcement. They were giddy for a while at having to recite the dreaded line, along with a sickening twist added by the end. "And may the odds ever grant you their favors."   Pairings; Heavenscoin with a side of Hayffie & Everlark.

[foxgloveprincess]

Honestly I’m thinking about Sugar a lot over the last few days.

Oh, Sugar. I’ve been thinking a lot about her, too. Especially since I’ve recently been working on a special project for this series. 😌 And here’s what I’ve come up with after getting this ask and being kinda inspired. (Disclaimer: Do I have any idea what I just did or what I just wrote? Not at all. And I probably won’t write anything more about it. This just sorta flew out of my fingers and I present it to you now.) 

Also, have a new banner that I created for the story recently!

Sugar, Oh Honey, Honey

Word Count: 1,639

Warnings: Dark/Dark Themes, Drabble of Poor, Sweet, Innocent Thing (on AO3–it’ll be easier to understand what’s happening here if you’ve read it), Manipulation, mentions/implied Kidnapping, Established Rules, hints of DDlg/Daddy Kink, Pet Names (Sugar - Reader, Teddy - Steve, Daddy - Bucky, master, etc.), Nefarious Intentions, implied Organized Crime, mentions of Sadistic Punishment (non-graphic), Tony being a Creep, PeterxTony Relationship (Peter is in his mid-20s), Barely Edited. Minors do not interact (18+).

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work, at all. Seeing this anywhere else means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

It’s like a heartbeat. Thumping that vibrates my veins and keeps me planted in my spot. This isn’t where I belong. I wanna be at home, with my Daddy and Teddy. Not here. Not with the flashing lights and heavy music. Not with the insectile leer of Tony Stark staring at me like a specimen on a petrie dish. But here I sit, on his couch, in his penthouse. A party thrumming around us.

I’m not alone. No, my Daddy would never allow that. Neither would my Teddy—not around Tony. Unfortunately, they’ve been detained by urgent business that Tony wouldn’t allow them to shirk.

Just looking at the man across from me, my spine tingles with fear. I know what lurks beneath, the skin of my back still tender after the one mistake I have ever made in his presence. One slip at a family dinner and a consequence I could not escape as a submissive. Just for asking a simple question. One lapse of curiosity. I earned fifteen minutes in his playroom. And the scars to prove it.

My gaze stays focused. Even as Wanda slips her arms through mine and Pietro holds me to his side. Like the guard dogs they’ve become for me with their caregivers’ permission. While Natasha is off with Steve and Bucky, Clint sits drinking a tumbler of amber liquid with Thor, both of them discussing some modifications for his sweet submissives.

But I cannot calm. Trapped in the lion’s den with his eyes laser focused on me. My breaths shudder in my lungs, my hands twist in my lap.

A younger man with a sunny smile dances over, his brown hair flopping in his eyes. Peter—Tony’s submissive. Someone I’ve never allowed near me in our cuddle piles. Family dinners spent not even acknowledging him for fear of attracting his caregiver’s attention—if that’s even a label that might be attributed to the man.

Flashes of purple and blue and red lights highlight Peter’s handsome features and the friendly intent of his approach.

He reaches out toward me, eager and expectant. “You can’t just sit here all night.”

“Yes, she can,” Wanda disagrees, brushing her nose over my cheek and pressing a kiss there. “Leave us alone.”

Muscled arms hold me tighter, Pietro’s apprehension feeding my own. I swallow and drop my gaze. Even as Peter’s eyes narrow in disappointment and irritation.

“You always hog all of her attention,” Peter bites back, “you need to learn to share.”

It’s that last word. That command. Something we have all learned in our predicament. In someone else’s home, you must be polite guests. Follow their rules. And for Tony, that means sharing is caring.

I swallow thickly, glancing behind in the hopes of just a glimpse of Steve or Bucky. But through the crush of the party crowd, I see no one of note. Just bodies draping over each other in lewd approximations of dance.

Peter beckons me forward once again and, without another choice, I comply. His hand wraps around mine as he leads me away with a glance toward Tony. Dread sinks heavy in my stomach, leaving lead weights in each step.

Until the glass doors open before us and we step outside on the balcony. The cool wind knocks against us, but delivers a full breath that I greedily suck into my lungs.

“There you go,” Peter says with a tilt of his head. “You looked like you were suffocating in there.” His boyish charm would set me at ease, if every other part of him did not cause quite the opposite.

We all know very little of him. A star of sparkling genius, rising in prestige, headed for his third year at MIT, when he showed up at a family dinner on Tony’s arm. Or so I’ve been told. He was the last submissive to join the family before me, but seemed far more adept at navigating the circumstances of the family than the others—as if he’d been doing it for longer than them all.

“Sugar?” he asks, grabbing the top of my arm to gain my attention. “Are you alright?”

I nod and find interest in the tops of my iridescent boots and frilly socks. The wind licks at my thighs, my skirt fluttering about my legs. My hands death-grip at it, knuckles taut around the fabric.

Voices drift on the wind, carrying over to us and chilling my blood all the more.

“It’s been long enough,” a voice says, its owner hidden from view by a well-placed topiary.

“What are you talking about?” their companion questions in a bored tone.

“There are two of them, surely they’d want someone else to play with when their precious little princess can’t take them both.”

I glance to Peter who nods toward the conversation, prodding us closer.

“I’m just saying,” the voice continues, “I could be a great addition to their repertoire.”

Their companion snorts as we catch sight of them. No one we recognize, save for perhaps a similarity to every other person in attendance. A glimmering outfit, a sculpted face, confidence radiating from every pore. She’s gorgeous, as is her companion.

“I mean, she can take Barnes,” she stops a moment to inhale from a vape pen and blow out the smoke, “but I want Steve.”

The way she says his name—my skin crawls. My head begins to shake, back and forth, fuzziness eclipsing my vision. I don’t feel safe and I want to go home.

“Hey, hey,” Peter whispers, with concern that doesn’t exactly ring sincere. “You’re alright.”

“Where’s my Daddy?” I whisper back, voice cracking over the question.

Whether he would answer me truthfully or not, I don’t find out. Instead, we’re interrupted by a warm hand that cements itself to my lower back.

“What have we here?” The second I hear his timbre, I relax in relief. Pressing myself into his broad chest and nestling as close as physically possible.

“Teddy,” I sigh into his shoulder, feeling weak and overwhelmed. Tears well in my eyes and I sniff them away, but still a few trickle down my cheek and pool in the weave of Steve’s shirt. “I wanna go home.” With another sniff, I feel his head leaning against mine and his nod.

“We’ll go say goodnight,” he agrees, “and we can meet Bucky at the car.”

“Mr. Stark insists that she stay longer,” Peter interjects with more confidence than I could ever muster when confronting one of the caregivers—as if I would ever confront one of the caregivers.

“I’m taking my girl home,” Steve argues, starting to lead us back toward the door and through the party. “Tell your master we enjoyed his hospitality.”

“You’re welcome to go, but she stays,” Peter calls after us.

Steve freezes, my body still tucked close to his. “Why?”

“Are you really that oblivious?” Tony asks, emerging from a shadow and standing with a cool, cocky air. Peter drifts into his side, a kiss pressed to the older man’s jaw. “Did she take the bait?” he asks with a tilt of his head and a brief glance over his shoulder toward the empty space where the two party goers had been.

“No, Mr. Stark,” Peter replies, disappointment dripping from the syllables.

Tony sucks his teeth and grumbles, “Too bad.”

Steve’s chest rumbles, his jaw locked though the muscles in his cheek twitch. His eyes darken in the stormiest look of ire I’ve ever seen from him.  My Teddy—soft and sweet and sincere. My comfort and safety.

“Here,” Bucky says from just behind us. Another wave of relief crashes over me. Another level of protection from whatever Tony’s playing at.

“What do you want with our girl?” Steve asks through gritted teeth.

“Look, I just wanted to see if she would slip,” Tony admits with a nonchalant shrug. “There’s something lurking deep inside her that I just wanna wrench out.” He gestures the metaphorical extraction as his voice grits.

Bucky steps forward in one smooth motion, shielding me from Tony’s gaze.

“She’s not yours,” he states, voice far calmer than Steve’s, though he remains just as tense. “If you want to pry anything out of anyone, try calling up one of your services. I’m sure there’s a plentiful supply of girls to satisfy you.”

“$600 million,” Tony offers instead, advancing by a step, “for just half an hour with her.”

Bucky’s fingers twitch, itching for the blade that rests at his back, tucked into his waistband. Steve’s hold becomes painful. But I’d rather that than a second of them contemplating Tony’s price with any degree of seriousness.

“I will say this once, Stark,” Bucky says, tone dropped low—chilling me to the bone with the intensity, “I will tear this empire down before I let your breath brush across her skin.”

“Then you’d better keep a very good eye on her,” Tony quips with a tilt of his head to sneak a peek of me behind Bucky.

“We will,” Steve answers, a definitive end to the conversation as they both turn with me and lead us to the exit.

Standing in the elevator as it descends, I wipe at my eyes and cling to each of them.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologize, the guilt heavy upon my chest. Trying to stem the new swell of tears before they fall. Steve tilts my face up to his, kissing each drop away. “Will everything be okay?” My voice, weak and small, asks the question upon which our whole future balances.

“Of course,” Steve replies with another kiss to the apple of my cheek. He licks his lips before they spread in a reassuring smile.

“We’ll make sure of it,” Bucky promises, something dangerous in his words as he wraps me in his arms and holds me close.

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

How did everyone meet their respective giants/tinies in your stardew au?

Did Serena/Jacob just happen to head in the mines/forest on a very bad luck day and suffered the conquences or is it kinda an abridged version of their main stories, but they are just in less shitty/horrible circumstances than their mainline counterparts?

I'm going to assume that everyone else has a pretty simular backstory to their mainline counterparts since there probably isn't too much that had to be changed for their stories to work in this au.

Ie. Jasper, Milo, and etc.

Little bit of both, it's sort of implied that this town is a hub of activity, which led to ABC and Athena keeping watch for the giant monsters and aliens respectively.

Serena would have been stalked/kidnapped while walking home at night and upon surviving, be recruited to work at the ABC Superstore (which is essentially Joja/Best Buy). If you have good friendship with her, she'll gift you various surveillance gear that you can use for Felix's mission to gather different types of "strange evidence". You can find redacted files that explain chunks of her story, and one day per season she'll be extremely spacey and may reveal extra details if you talk to her

No one knows what happened to Jacob, just that he went missing in the woods for a couple days and now refuses to go anywhere near them, except to look for Reagan whenever she goes in. He pretends it doesn't bother him but still refuses to talk about it and insists you shouldn't go messing around in there. You can find clues about a meteor shower the night he went missing and his sketchbook in the woods, so he was probably out there doing nature studies for art before he got yoinked.

You can overhear conversations between Jacob and Reagan about him warning Reagan that the woods are too dangerous, while she insists that the kitties are nice and one of them wants Jacob to come back and play again. If you find Reagan's toys in the woods and return them, you'll gain her friendship, and thus win Ylva's favor. Jacob tends to babysit her on weekends and festival days, so they've probably had plenty of previous playdates in the woods, hence why Reagan would go and find the kitties on her own adventure

Kumiko is an exchange student for college, Taiyo simply followed her. Which sucks, because the reason she went to an abroad college was to be halfway across the globe from him.

Jasper's story is pretty cut and dry from his original fic. You can find the journal notes in the cliff tunnels from C.A.R and himself. The lighthouse island is closed during winter though, so he'll be on the mainland and Deus will be hibernating.

Dean and Jamie already know each other as their stories have taken place in their hometowns previously. Dean is allegedly here on "business" and Jamie followed for no particular reason at all and certainly not to make sure news about Negasonic doing something nefariously illegal doesn't pop up for Nano to stop.

Felix will only meet Athena after enough evidence has been collected for him to launch an investigation in the desert region, where he'll finally catch her and start a similar plotline to their canon story.

Ben has already accidentally adopted Milo at this point, but it's still a vary fresh relationship, so he may ask things about parenting and pet ownership but get very uncomfortable if you press for details. You're also not allowed in his home unless you have a high enough friendship and proof of borrower activity. After he trusts you, you can actually go to his house and meet Milo, which will then boost your status with local borrowers and increase the chances they'll leave you with a gift every so often.

Don't ask Mayor Danny about anything, she doesn't know what the fuck is going on, but she'd got a rly comfy chair to sit in at town hall (:

[patrice-bergerons]

For the short angsty prompts, how about

" Who did this to you?"

Thankies :D

The door to his office opens without so much as a perfunctory knock to ask for permission.  If he was in a better mood, Q might find it remarkable that he can tell it is Bond who walks in from his gait alone, from the way his footsteps fall one after the other, lithe and sure of himself. 

Alas, he is not in a good mood, and it is only begrudgingly he tears his eyes away from the monitor to regard the agent.  Just as he thought, he catches a hard, furious expression forming on Bond’s face as his eyes narrow and his jaw clenches.  Bond opens his mouth.  Q cuts him off.

“A a-” He gestures sharply to the whiteboard before turning his attention back to the screen.  The whiteboard reads-

NO ONE “DID THIS” TO ME

I CRASHED MY BIKE

MY FAULT ENTIRELY

He has broken his wrist, the left side of his face is badly bruised, and every field agent employed by Six appears to have joint custody of a single, communal brain cell.  The first ‘who did this to you’, uttered by 009 shortly after he returned from A&E, was endearing despite the mortification of the explanation that followed but that was five agents ago.

Bond laughs though—a rare, genuine bark of a laugh—and Q feels a knot he didn’t register before in his chest loosen a bit at the sound.

He looks up again from the code that is throwing nothing but a string of errors in his face; finds laughter lingering in the corners of Bond’s eyes still.  His eyes are the storm that will break you in two and the harbour that keeps you safe.

Q sighs.

“I feel as if I have been adopted by a pack of German shepherds.”  Feeling a bit more charitable now, he adds- “it’s endearing, I suppose.”

It earns him a smile—one part classic Bond, dazzling and up to no good, and one part something quieter and horribly out of place under the fluorescent lights of Q’s office.

“You are the reason we come home.”

Q’s gut twists at the words.  

He is the reason they come home but only for a short while—just last week he listened to 003 draw a last, ragged breath in Prague before evac could arrive.  Anything else Bond might mean by the words—it doesn’t bear thinking about.  Not with this wrist.  You are the reason I come home.

Some of it must show on his face, pain and frustration gnawing at his usually iron-clad defences.  Bond says, 

“The world is for once not on fire.  Take the rest of the day off.”

Q wants to argue with him just out of spite.  He is not some delicate flower all of his agents seem to think that he is.  He is fine and he can tell when he is good to continue and when he needs to take a step back without having to be told like a child, thank you very much.  Bond can’t come into his office and just say these things.

But Bond is right that they are for once in a miraculous lull of nefarious activity worldwide and he just doesn’t seem to be able to focus enough on this bloody simple coding project to crack it.  His wrist is all but calling for the codeine in his bag, the bruises on his body for the sweet covers of his bed.

And yet.

“You have too much work?”

Q nods, typing two lines of code one handed that get him nowhere.  He is not hurt that badly.

This doesn’t deter 007.

“Well, there is only one solution then,” he says walking up to Q, past his desk.  Q tries to summon the strength to stay annoyed with him.  He is annoyed with him.  It’s just that the playful mischief that rings in his voice is more addicting than any drug, more dangerous than any weapon—has been for years.

“Is that right?”

“I’ll have to kidnap you.”  Bond comes to a stop just by his chair.  “I’m informed I’m a mean old German shepherd.”  

Then without warning he raises hands he fashioned into claws and bares his teeth.

The sight is so unexpected and out of character, Q bursts out laughing, and laughs and laughs until there is no air left in his lungs and they feel as if they are being skewered by his bruised ribs.  When he wipes the tears from his eyes and can see clearly again he finds Bond looking ridiculously pleased with himself.  Happy, almost. 

Perhaps in another life.  A kinder, easier life, and he would have smiled like this every day.

In this one, Q settles for handing Bond a small victory.

“I’ll talk to R,” he says, standing up and suppressing a wince.

[bluiex]

To try to get over my writer’s block, I’ve decided to write some drabbles of random AUs of mine. Which brought me back to a superhero AU of mine that I enjoy.

Most needed context is that the hero organization isn’t exactly the best kind of people. They defeat villains mainly to get rid of them, not help the people. Scar is the exception to this. Also in this, Grian got kidnapped and experimented on/given powers. With these powers he decides to become a vigilante and take down the heroes. Everyone thinks he’s dead (except Scar, but Scar doesn’t have any idea how to find him). Grian knows Scar is Hotguy, but Scar doesn’t know Grian is Xelqua (his vigilante identity).

—————

HotGuy draws his bow, eyes laser focused on Grian. It’s a horrible twist of fate, he thinks, to have his lover stare at him with such venom in his eyes. Grian knew this day would come, where he’d eventually face Scar, but it didn’t make it any better.

“What’s wrong Xelqua?” Scar says, voice painfully neutral. “Why so silent? My colleagues all say you’re so cocky, what happened?”

It’s easy to be cocky to people you don’t like, Grian thinks bitterly, not your own partner. He’s also worried that Scar will recognize his voice, not that he wants to admit that. He has to anyways, “nothing’s happened, I’m just in the middle of something.”

“Something nefarious, I’m sure,” Scar replies, stance steady, bow still drawn. Grian’s eyes don’t leave it.

“I’m a vigilante, not a villain.”

“You’re trying to take down the hero organization, that’s what villains do.”

“It would, if the hero organization was actually good,” Grian counters. “The heroes don’t care about the people they’re not true heroes.” Grian huffs out a breath and shakes his head, he’s had this argument with Scar too many times before, and that was when Scar trusted him. “Now, I have business to attend to,” Grian says before he could respond. “I’ll see you around, HotGuy.”

Before HotGuy can react, Grian creates a burst of bright light with his magic, taking to the skies immediately after. He hears a surprised shout as he takes flight, soon followed by the sound of an arrow whizzing by after his partner recovers. Grian has already gained too much distance by then, getting safely out of reach. He heads back to the lower class district with a grim frown on his face. He’d been hoping to avoid HotGuy for longer, but he should have known better, Scar’s taken his job as a hero way too seriously. Grian supposes it makes sense, he is the one true hero in this city.

~ ~ ~

Scar isn’t doing so well after his encounter with Xelqua. It was his first encounter with the vigilante who was very different than the others described him to be. Scar should know better then to trust every word said by his colleagues, but it’s hard to not sometimes.

Of course Scar’s problems has less to do with the vigilante himself, more with what he said. What sounded so similar to another avian’s words. Although a lot of things reminds him of Grian.

Scar forces himself to keep himself presentable the rest of his time working. He can’t show any more weakness to them, even if he wants nothing else than to hide in a corner to have a breakdown. But he’s a popular hero, he can’t be seen falling apart. Especially over something so “small.”

His facade dissolves the moment he steps inside his home. Home… Scar looks around at the quiet place. It doesn’t feel much like home anymore. Too quiet, too… empty.

Scar was already thinking too much about Grian earlier, so seeing his partner’s continued absence hits like a truck. Scar drags himself over to the couch and falls face first onto it, burying his head into a pillow.

Void, he misses Grian.

It gets worse after every dead end and faulty lead Scar finds. If only he could get the higher ups to help him, but they already decided he’s dead. Grian can’t just die, it’s impossible to kill him, Scar’s pretty sure.

Scar is also pretty sure that Cub is hacking into the hero organization’s system to help gather info, but he’s resolutely ignoring that fact. Especially because they refuse to help him.

OH I LOVE THIS AU IDEA. Grian being abducted and forced powers onto him.. Hating the hero organization. Perfect perfect perfect. And I'm so happy to see yo writing again <333 I love your writing so much

[aqricus]

VAMPIRE CHUUYA AND HIS HUMAN MISTRESS! VAMPIRE CHUUYA AND HIS HUMAN MISTRESS!

him kidnapping you under the guise of running low on food, but it’s really cause he’s been watching over you for a while and after hearing the amount of disappearances of young women in your town (knowing that these ones in particular have nothing to do with him) he just can’t rest knowing you’re walking around like a target. so he just had to keep you in his grasp, knowing you’re forever be safe wrapped tight n snug in his embrace. - 💋

vampire chuuya will always have a place in my pussy, like his tongue game, which i KNOW is on 10 bc of the way he be rolling those r's, AND those sharp canines he would trace over your skin and accidentally nick your lip with whenever he's a little too eager to kiss you? PLS

little concerns him in the way of the town gossip, but when a newspaper catches with a headline proclaiming a third girl missing in a string of unresolved, particularly perplexing kidnappings, he grows pensive. worried. it's only been a few hours since he saw you from afar last, but that doesn't change anything when he knows that the sun set a few hours ago and all of the disappearances occurred only during nightfall.

he remembers overhearing you telling a friend you wanted to head to the grocery store the last time you spoke. chuuya presses his lips to his fist, knuckles white and elbows propped atop his desk, wondering if you've already been snatched up, all traces of your presence erased in one fell swoop. he's tense just thinking about you afraid, shaking, unable to fight back as someone else's fangs sink into your throat. he'd tear the city apart if it meant finding you, but why bother when he can nip the issue in the bud now and steal you for himself?

you'd be aware of his nefarious reputation and his suspected involvement with a number of disappearances that eventually went cold, and he can tell you're skittish just by the way your eyes flicker attentively to him every time he so much as shifts a muscle. he's low on food, he tells you, and you believe it. you wouldn't believe he harbors any feeling toward you--nothing more than greed, anyway. you wouldn't know of how he spent time observing you, intrigued and bent on having you to himself. you wouldn't know that this was previously arranged and not a coincidence like you assumed. and, above all, you wouldn't know that when his arms wrap around you as he plunges his fangs into your flesh, something you deemed unnecessary for an act solely rooted in hunger, he was deciding right then and there that you fit like a glove in his embrace and he would never let anyone else have you.

he can't trust you to stay safe on your own, especially when he's always so busy with other matters. so, it's really only for your own good, or so he thinks.

[dualnaturedscientist]

The Disappearance Of Dr.Two-Brains

Something had been bothering Becky as of lately, she hadn't heard from her villainous foe for months now. She had absolutely no clue where he had gone. It would've been less worrying if his henchmen knew where their boss was, yet they were just as in the dark as she was. 

The villains were just as worried by his sudden disappearance. It was as if he vanished into thin air, Becky had assumed this was part of some scheme he was cooking up.  It wasn't until the villains had gone out of their way to question if she had any clue about where he could be.  

If all his inventions, his warehouse and henchmen weren't left behind she would have sworn he never existed. It was like she lost a friend all over again. Even though he wasn't the same person that he was before the accident, Dr.Two-Brains still felt like somewhat of a friend. Even filling in the mentor role once more when she needed reassurance. 

Each and every time she had caught a glimpse of pure white hair, the young hero couldn't help but get her hopes up that it would be him. It never was. It always filled her with soul crushing disappointment. Who could ever guess that WordGirl would be disappointed that no one was pulling off cheese related heists? 

Scenarios had continuously run through the hero's mind when trying to figure out where he went. That he was possibly kidnapped by another villain? Yet all his fellow villains were just as worried as the mad scientist's henchmen. They had even stopped their crimes for a month straight, nearly turning the city inside out trying to find their friend. She still had to capture them and send them right back to jail even if they weren't doing it for nefarious intentions. 

In all honesty Becky had wanted him back just as much as they did. Would it be twisted if the lexiconian admitted she missed the challenge that he had brought? Perhaps it was. 

"Heeeelp! Dr.Two-Brains is back! He's back for the cheese!" 

The familiar voice that had caused Becky to flinch and broke her previous  was almost like her own personal bat signal. Even with her super hearing he certainly had a pair of lungs on him. It always made him stand out from the rest, Becky had dubbed him exposition guy. 

She knew it. He wouldn't have stayed gone, he was Dr.Two-Brains. He was like a vermin in that way, you just couldn't get rid of them so easily. They were worrying for nothing, he was back and up to his old tricks already.

"Word up!" And just like that she was in her signature outfit. Grabbing a frustrated Captain Huggy Face from his snack that he was enjoying just moments before. Chattering in a grumpy manner to show he wasn't pleased to be interrupted.

"Sorry but crime doesn't wait. Plus it seems Dr.Two-Brains is back from wherever he was hiding." WordGirl seemed unusually excited, her poor sidekick just barely hanging onto her shoulder as she flew to the grocery store.

WordGirl had caught that familiar signature white hair of nemesis, taking her usual stance as they confronted him. 

"Stop right there Dr.Two-Brains! I don't know what you're up to but it won't work!" 

Upon further examination, the mad scientist seemed to lack the…whole mad scientist thing he had going on. Causing Becky to hesitate. Wasn't he holding the store hostage for cheese or something of that sort.

"Pardon me?" He seemed genuinely confused, looking around to make sure it was indeed him she was speaking to. 

He seemed quite different than usual. His hair combed back in a neat manner, wearing some kind of sweater vest. It took WordGirl to notice something else that was missing entirely. The mouse brain that was attached to his skull. 

"Uh. Dr.Two-Brains? What's with the weird get up?"

Captain Huggyface was just as confused, scratching his head at the rather peculiar sight of the villain looking rather normal. Well as normal as one with mouse features could appear. It wasn't really a weird apparel but it didn't fit the mad scientist. 

He pointed to himself, just to make absolutely sure it was indeed him she was speaking to. 

"You're talking to me? May I ask why I'm stopping right here?" He spoke in a strangely soft tone, she didn't like it. It didn't seem to suit him. A growing sense of dread soon overcame WordGirl.

"Who else would I be talking to? Aren’t you stealing cheese? Isn't that your style?" She began to sound rather panicked at this point, it was just like that fateful day all over again. Yet it felt worse. At least before he remembered who he was. He didn't even seem to recognize her at all. 

"Uhm. I'm sorry? I wasn't stealing anything. I seemed to give this fellow earlier quite the fright but I suppose I do look rather unusual, though if you don't mind me asking you one question."

WordGirl felt her stomach drop, he truly didn't seem to have any recollection of her nor his previous criminal activities. 

"Sure?" 

"Who is Dr.Two-Brains?" He frowned, eyebrows furrowed as if he were trying to figure out some difficult questions. In a way, he was. 

That had confirmed her suspicions. The young hero hadn't realized she was simply standing by now, no longer hovering in the usual heroic manner. Instead she was quite looking up at the former villain. There was a question she desperately wanted to ask yet Becky knew that he probably wouldn't be able to answer himself. What happened to him? Scratch that, make it two questions. What happened to his mouse brain?

"Tom? Where did you go?" An unfamiliar voice had called out that Dr.Two-Brains seemed to recognize. Turning around to face a young man with curly hair. He had dressed in a similar fashion to her former mentor, that would explain why he had dressed up like that. Yellow eyes locked with pink ones.

"What have I said about wandering off? It's not safe especially when this city is filled with villains." He seemed worried, ironically not realizing the man he was scolding like a child was the city's top villain. 

@ninjastormhawkkat @melodythebunny

[ensnapemysenses]

The Wolf, The Bat, and The Girl

Chapter 6: Friction

Warnings: Angst, Self-hatred, lots of depressing language from Sev but it ends well!

Chapter Summary: Severus wrestles with his own self-doubts and the guilt of involving both Hazel and Remus in his messy past as a Death Eater. Remus grows tired of his harmful coping mechanisms and confronts him.

The months following the incident at the Shrieking Shack go by in a blur. Hazel recovers with no injuries, in fact, it seems the prick didn’t even lay a hand on her at all. Other than being slightly shaken up, she's back to her normal self in no time. She’s lucky they found her so quickly and that idiot will now spend his life in Azkaban having been found guilty of kidnapping and nefarious planning after Severus submitted his memories as proof. 

End-of-the-year exams were postponed for a few days, effectively lengthening the term a bit and encroaching on the students' summer break. After passing all her exams with flying colors, Severus and Hazel spend the summer months in their little cottage near Hogsmeade. Severus keeps himself busy running his side business where he makes potions for the locals and he tries to forget about Remus. He’s determined to snuff out any feelings he has for the man.

Remus returns to his home in the countryside but it doesn’t last long. He finds himself back at Hogwarts to stay after only a few weeks. He wants to be near Hazel and Severus just in case something else happens.

The two men find themselves with the same goal in mind — to protect Hazel, no matter the cost. 

For Severus, that cost is to build his walls high again and not let anyone inside - not even Remus. He can’t stand getting him involved in dealings of his past and it breaks his heart that his daughter has now been drug into his messiness. He should have protected both of them better. He should have seen the signs of the coming storm. He always knew his past would catch up to him, he should have been more vigilant. It was foolish to think he could move on from his youthful allegiances. They would always come back to bite him in the arse.

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