caught on a whim

Going with the argument route here :) (Modern College AU)

In hindsight, the argument was beyond stupid, but when you pair stubbornness with stubbornness, the end result is a shouting match followed by slamming doors and the silent treatment.

Keith knew that approaching Lance about this very attractive lab partner would be a bad idea, but he just had to know if something more was going on. People talked, and he caught whim of some gossip concerning Lance leaning a little too close to said attractive lab partner.

Lance reacted just as Keith expected, but instead of dropping the subject, Keith fired back just as hard with cheating accusations until the two stormed off to their separate dorm rooms.

For two days, Lance shut Keith out entirely, and Keith wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was tearing him up in a way that manifested into physical illness. He could hardly sleep, and eating was out of the question. Pair that with school stress, Lance stress, and the fresher’s flu bouncing around, and Keith was left feeling terrible.

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So, I think sans gets waaaay more credit than he deserves in the fandom, and that people who see him as a sort of hero figure drastically misunderstand him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m as sore about it as anybody. But I think it’s a little weird to come down on him too hard for it, because, for the most part, he’s not trying to be a hero. 

Like, put aside his desperation and his depression and the way he waits until the last minute of the worst run to confront you with violence. I hear the ‘he never does anything in any other run’ issue and raise a different take: he absolutely does something, in every single run, good or bad. Those just don’t involve stopping you with force.

sans doesn’t drop his comedy routine for much, so, I’m gonna be honest with you, when I hear him talking about how if he hadn’t made that promise, you’d be ‘dead where you stand?’ I take it as a sign that sans had a favorite way of stopping potential anomalies. And that was killing them immediately, whenever he caught a whim of any weird time shit.

So, he makes that deal, and he doesn’t fight you. Doesn’t kill you. Just watches you waltz through. And if you don’t kill PAPYRUS, he’ll joke with you, mess with you, have fun little jokes and escapades with you. ’Good friends, bad jokes.’ And then he comes at you in the judgment, every time, looking over what you did. Calling you out with this isn’t the first time you’ve done a neutral and counting your kills, laying it thick, telling you to do better, only dropping the veil when you kill PAPYRUS out of what I assume to be pure brotherly rage.

He ain’t a hero. And in any case, it’s not what he’s trying to be, most of the time. sans’ knowledge of the timeline is incomplete, but he appears to know that resets are possible. In fact, in many neutral judgments, sans will allude to how you must have heard this many times before, or how you should try not killing anyone ‘next time.’

See, sans’ first instinct on seeing the human go all murdery doesn’t seem to be to stop them now. Naaah, he seems more concerned with setting things up so that he can try to advise them, guide them. He takes it as a matter of course that this is but one iteration of the world, and that his end goal isn’t to stop the human in this iteration, but try to inspire mercy in the the next one.

He’s never trying to be the hero of the story. He’s trying to be Frisk’s Iroh. Knowing his tactics, in a messed up way it make sense that he waits until the last minute.

Waits for the human to change. Waits for the timeline to veer into a course where there isn’t a reset, where there’s still room for the human to reconsider next time. It’s the foundation of his strategy; looking at this shitty timeline and thinking ‘well, it’s gonna get reset anyway, might as well try to get them to like me and the other monsters so the next one might be better, even if I don’t remember it.’

It’s only at the end that sans steps in. Not because everyone is dead but because if the human keeps going, there will be no further iterations and plan A is now a wash.

In spite of looking at time linearly, he thinks on the same plane as the human does. Viewing the world in terms of timelines; in terms if ‘this time’ and ‘next time.’ In a manner of speaking, it’s a very cold way to view the world. But you could also argue that it’s one of the most effective ways, considering how many players just refuse to do the worst run and never meet sans in his serious mode.

And it’s like … Yes, sans is a shitty hero. But he’s not trying to be a hero at all most of the time. So let’s not get so wrapped up in the sans obsession that we start to believe that that was at all his goal. For that reason, I think it’s real interesting how we consider sans attempting to push us onto the right path or befriend us in bad routes ‘doing nothing.’ And I also don’t that that’s entirely fair.

An exhausted Evie was in such a hurry to just get back to her dorm and crash that she didn’t even notice the soft lamplight spilling out from the crack underneath the door, and as such, she was entirely surprised by Mal’s presence in the room when she unlocked the door and stepped inside.  Mal was on her bed, cozy in pajamas as she sat with her knees hugged to her chest.

“Hey,” she greeted.  The tv was on, and she absentmindedly watched.

Evie’s perfect eyebrows furrowed, very confused as to why she was seeing Mal here, already retired for the night.

“…Hi, M.  You’re back early,” she noted, shutting and locking the door behind her.  "What happened to your date?  Ben’s king stuff come up again?“

”…Not exactly.“

Evie lobbed her purse onto her bed, let the gears turn and whirl inside her head for a second, then turned back to Mal with folded arms.

"Why do you have Evasive Face?” she questioned.

“Okay, one, I don’t have a face specifically reserved for evading, and two—”

“Why do you have Evasive Face?”

A defeated smile glided into place on Mal’s expression accompanied by an equally defeated little laugh.  She couldn’t get anything over on that girl.

“…Ben and I broke up,” she announced.  "Or I broke up with Ben, whatever you want to call it.“

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“I didn’t know you could draw,” Laurent said casually, flipping through the pages of his sketchbook.

“I’m not much of an artist,” Damen replied.  He was surprised by how calmly he stood there, unperturbed as Laurent appraised every single one of his sketches. Even Nikandros had only seen a select few before Damen gave in to the urge to snatch the book back; the drawings were private, a secret hobby that he guarded from those around him. Laurent was a stranger.

“Nonsense,” he mused, and Damen had to correct himself. Laurent was a man he had known for three days, but he wasn’t a stranger. In some ways, Damen felt like he knew him better than he knew most of the people at home.

“I could draw you,” he found himself saying, “if you’d like.”

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The Breath Aspect and its God Tiers/Classpect Roles

Keywords: Disconnected, Apathetic, Indifference, Detachment, Options, Liberties, Freedoms, Independence, Movement, Separated, Flexibility, Airy, Immaterial, Intangible

Symbols: Pnuema, Wind, Wings/Flight, Bubbles

Breath is one of the 12 Aspects of Homestuck. Its Opposite is the Aspect Blood. When I think of Breath, I think of the pure Disconnects between yourself and everything around you. It is the choice to be Apathetic and Indifferent with maintaining the Bonds that you have. It is any and all Detachments from anything that you willingly have. It is the Options and Liberties that you willingly make or have for yourself. It is your Freedom from the matters and concerns of anyone other than you. It is your Independence from people and their Independence of you. Breath is what Moves and Separates you. Those Flexible things that you pick up and put down on whims. It is the Airy world of the Immaterial and the Spirit of the Pnuema, those things that exist Intangibly that you can’t touch or hold. Breath fills your Spirit with the Air and Lifts you Up on Wings, Separating you from everything. It is this Flexibility of Movement that lets you go wherever and whenever you please, nothing able to hold you down in one place.

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µ's (And friends) First Kiss Headcanons

TsubaHono: Following Sunny Day Song, Honoka got really emotional and excited. Part of that being directed toward Tsubasa, due to her working hard to help organise everything with her. This overwhelming emotion caused Honoka to kiss her once they got into the changing rooms after. In front of pretty much all the other idols. Tsubasa had plans for their first kiss, so she was a little disappointing. But she went along with it and kissed Honoka back, Umi would’ve walked out if they held it a second longer. After that, Honoka promised her that she’d see her later and went off to do what she needed to do next. (I forget what happened next in the movie aslkdhs it was something, I know that.

NozoEli: They had their first first kiss before they started dating. They were in their first year, and they had noticed that other girls had started dating people and kissing and everything. So they became kind of curious about it. Nozomi, being Nozomi, was the one who suggested trying it to Eli. Eli, being as gay as she is, couldn’t refuse. And so, they tried it. They both really enjoyed it, although it was a little awkward, since it was their first try. However after that Eli was too embarrassed to do it again (Until they started dating of course.)

RinPana: They had their first kiss when they were only little. They don’t remember it clearly, they only remember the fact they kissed. Rin insists that she and Hanayo were playing a wedding game, and Hanayo kissed her as part of it. Whereas Hanayo insists that she was upset and crying, so Rin came over and kissed her to feel better, citing that’s what her parents did. No matter which one they discuss, they both get really embarrassed by it.

KotoUmi: After three months of dating. Umi was starting to get pretty decent with affection. However there was one thing she hadn’t conquered yet. Kissing. And while Kotori adored her girlfriend, she was getting tired of waiting. And so, unable to hold back any longer, she randomly kissed Umi one day, the only reason being that she was looking particularly good that day. Umi’s face didn’t leave her hands for a good ten minutes. Kotori was extremely satisfied.

NicoMaki: Nico and Maki had been dating for a little bit before their first kiss, but they never really did it. Largely because they either got too flustered, but also because they both wanted to be the person to initiate their first kiss. Eventually though, it just happened. Nico was angrily ranting about something, probably something related to idols. Basically, she was being salty about something dumb and it was kind of bugging Maki. So, in order to shut her up. She kissed her. Both of them went silent, processing what happened. And then Nico started complaining that it was a terrible first kiss and it should’ve been more romantic and etc. She loved it really though, and admitted that afterwards.

YukiAlisa (Yukiho x Alisa): The two of them were watching some random idol thing on TV. The two women were being filmed, and all of a sudden one of them kissed the other. Alisa, being her naive, unaware self, wondered if it was something pretty standard for idols in Japan. And so she began to excitedly insist that she and Yukiho do it as well. While Yukiho knew it wasn’t, she went along with it. Really just wanting to kiss Alisa. After they did it the first time, she intended to go in for a second one. Unfortunately that was when Honoka walked in.

EreAn (Erena x Anju): They were the couple Yukiho and Alisa saw. A-Rise had been having a lot of recent success, and Anju was feeling almost overly confident and happy about it. On a whim, caught up in the excitement of the press. She decided to kiss her girlfriend live on camera, proving countless fan theories right. However she forgot that it was their first kiss. Erena was a little upset afterwards, but Anju calmed her down. They then had a proper first kiss. Erena denies that their real one ever happened. Despite the fact it was recorded.

Elorcan Werewolf AU Part 2

I really didn’t expect anyone to even read part 1, so I was sure as hell shocked when I saw that people even liked it. So thank you for even bothering to look this over when I would have probably skipped it myself. 

Summary: Vernon’s a rat (nothing new) and now Elide has to face the consequences of not showing up at the mating ball. And put up with her mate.

Only to find

myself lost

Once again

Elorcan Werewolf 2

Elide decided to make a chocolate cake since what girl didn’t like chocolate? It would be a celebratory cake for the Fireheart Pack making it through their first mating ball alive.

Unfortunately, the moon goddess had other plans.

Elide! Aelin screamed down the pack link.

Elide let out a startled cry, accidentally dropping the batter. Hissing in frustration, she grabbed a sponge.

What is it?

Your uncle Vernon leaked to the cadre about your absence. I’ll kill that bastard. He doesn’t deserve the Alpha position.

Fear leaked through Elide.

What’s going to happen to me?

Aelin didn’t answer right away, and Elide could sense her distress. She left the remains of the cake on the floor and hurried to the weaponry room.

For your apparent insolence, Lorcan Salvaterre wants to whip you. Hide in the dungeons. He can’t detect your scent there among the other prisoners.


Yes. He’s heading into your direction.

Where are you?

Aelin paused. Then growled: Running away from my mate.

Elide’s eyes widened as she stuffed a couple of daggers down her boots, and stuffed medicine into her pouch. 

Why are you running away from your mate? Mates were precious, a gift from the moon goddess herself. Life without a mate passed without true purpose or happiness. 

Because my mate is Prince Rowan Whitethorn, Lycan and heir to the Doranelle throne. 

Elide didn’t have time to be shocked as her connection with Aelin blasted with fear. Before she could ask, her front door banged open, a low growl piercing the empty air. 

Elide didn’t go to the dungeon. She’d had been trapped in one for her entire youth, and there was no way in hell she’d let a Lycan cow her into one. 

So she slung the pack over her shoulder, and sprinted as fast as she could with her ruined ankle to the back door, and slid into Aelin’s camaro. After dutifully clicking on her seat belt, she slammed on the pedal and steered the car with impressive strategy through the woods into the main road.

If she made it into the completely human cities, then she’d be safe. Lycans had a covenant under Pack law to not step foot into mortal land for their safety as their temperament could wreck cities.

Elide sent a quick message down the pack link of her plan, and then palmed a knife in her hand. She wouldn’t go down without a fight. There was a time she’d been defenseless, but she was no longer that girl anymore.

A howl sounded through the air, and a small part of Elide yearned to slam on the brakes and comfort the wolf. But Elide wasn’t going to listen to that part of her that might kill her, so she pressed the gas pedal harder.

Survival first.

Don’t use the main roads, Aelin let out a strangled sound down the link. He’s sending his bribed police officers in to slow you down.

Elide let out a curse that would have made Manon proud. She didn’t know why Lorcan was so bent on punishing her. The entire world didn’t revolve around them, and sure as hell didn’t live to satisfy their every whim and urge. 

As soon as she caught sight of the flashing red and blue lights of police cars, Elide swerved the car into the forests. She expertly drove through the line of trees, both fallen and drooping as if expecting her unwelcomed entrance. 

What she lacked for her werewolf form, she made it up with driving. When Aelin had became Alpha, she’d gained all of Arobynn’s previous debts. To force her to step down, most of the Alphas had demanded that Aelin pay them immediately.

Elide had helped by racing on the streets, much to Aelin’s and Manon’s protests. She didn’t mind. It meant she could serve and be helpful in other ways rather than doing laundry and washing dishes.

When she’d been beaten Lycan Fenrhys in a drag race, she’d gained over one trillion in dollars, no one believing a little girl could out race one of the cadre, betting against her. Fenrhys had demanded that Elide take off her pale mask she wore to protect her identity, but as soon as her hands had gotten a hold of the money, she had booked it.

The way the male had looked at her like she was his next meal  —

Elide shuddered.

When the forest cleared out, Elide hit the side streets. Her fingers gripped the wheel tightly as she zoomed past the edges of her pack’s border at 250 mph. There was no way Lorcan could catch her.

Or so she thought.

The same dark blur flashed past the car, and a blink later, Elide saw a male standing in the middle of the road, arms crossed. The aura of power and dominance oozing from the male was enough for Elide to slam on the gas pedals.

She would not stop for anyone.

The male seemed to realize that Elide would run him over, but also seemed to have a death wish, because right when the car was a fraction of an inch from his chest, he easily sidestepped, a brow raised.

Elide flung the dagger out the window in his direction, and then pressed the pedal harder.

There was no way. There was no way a werewolf — even a Lycan — could run that fast. But it seemed like fate wanted to test her today.

The passenger door of the car ripped open, and Elide screamed as a body slid into the shotgun seat with the ease of gracefulness and elegance. She slammed on the brakes, watching in satisfaction as the male’s body hit the dashboard — served him right for having absolutely no manners and not bothering to buckle up.

Before she could reach for the dagger in her boot, the male snarled, and lifted himself up.

A large, muscular body with ropes of corded muscle looming over her.

The hunt had ended. 

And Elide knew she’d been captured as soon as those onyx eyes locked onto her.

“You ran away from me, Elide Lochan.” His canines elongated, and Elide shivered at his low voice, that granite rough-hewn face. Her pulse throbbed as the male’s eyes raked her over.

The Lycan leaned forward, resting his jaw against her collarbone, a warm breath caressing her skin.

Elide swallowed harshly.

She felt the edges of his teeth gently scrape against her flesh, the male inhaling her scent greedily.

“Did you know,” Lorcan breathed, sending sparks and shivers down her skin. “You ran away from your mate, Elide Lochan?”

Simple Pleasures

Author: @idearlylovealaugh

Prompt: Diagon Alley, date night

Description: Where better to celebrate a special occasion than the fanciest restaurant in town?

Rating: T

The atmosphere at Le Cochon Peint justified its reputation as the most fashionable and hard-to-come-by reservation in Diagon Alley. On a Saturday night in June almost every table was occupied by elegantly dressed witches and wizards, and a number of those heads turned as a young, attractive couple was shown to a table in nearly the exact center of the restaurant. The man, tall and strikingly ginger, pushed in the chair of his petite, bushy-haired companion in an unobtrusive display of chivalry before taking his seat amid the buzz of interested chatter from diners seated nearby.

“Quite the place,” Ron remarked, glancing around as the napkin in front of him sailed elegantly into the air, unfolded itself from it’s complicated swan design and drifted neatly onto his lap.

“It’s lovely,” Hermione agreed, smiling at him warmly. “I’m so glad we finally made it here. I’ve been hearing about it for months!”

“Seems like the right kind of place for an anniversary dinner,” he reasoned. “These posh drinks are alright, really,” he added thoughtfully, swirling around a ruby-coloured concoction he had ordered at the swanky bar in the restaurant’s lobby.

“That bartender thought you were quite alright, too, I think,” Hermione replied slyly.

“She was just being friendly,” Ron scoffed, though his ears pinked ever-so-slightly. “And she got a lot friendlier after she heard me give my name to the bloke at the front,” he added skeptically.

“The maître d’,” Hermione supplied automatically.

Ron smiled knowingly at her as he shook his head. “Right.”

“Besides, I doubt she needed to hear your name to know who you are,” she conjectured.

“The red hair I’ll grant you, but these robes are brand-new!” he joked. His eyes glowed with warmth as he watched her laugh. “Have I told you how bloody gorgeous you look tonight?”

She flushed, feeling slightly absurd to be so pleased. “Yes, but you also told me that last week after I went twelve rounds with Crookshanks and the bath, so I’m not sure I trust your judgement.”

“Hmmmm, I stand by that statement,” he mused, regarding her appraisingly.

“You’re ridiculous - I was drenched!” Hermione cried in amusement, remembering the soaked and disheveled state she had been in.

“Exactly,” he replied, mischief in his eyes. “I….”  

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, what a delight!”

A booming voice cut him off as a florid man in ostentatious golden robes planted himself beside their table. Hermione glanced around self-consciously as he heartily shook Ron’s hand and feigned an elaborate kiss on her own. Every head in the restaurant seemed to have swiveled in their direction and was watching the scene with interest. “I have the honor to be the proprietor of Le Cochon Peint and please allow me to say that we are so, so gratified to have you dine with us this evening, and we hope that everything is to your express liking. If either of you have a particular appetite tonight, please permit me to communicate it to the chef. He will be more than happy to cater to your every whim.”

Hermione, still caught off guard, demurred. “Oh no, I’m sure the regular menu is…”

“We want to make sure we have the pleasure of your patronage again. Perhaps we could have a quick snap for our Wall of Fame?”

A slender, nimble man appeared to materialize out of thin air by his elbow and before they were fully aware of what was happening, they were enveloped in a explosive puff of purple smoke, the cameraman deftly slipping away with what was assuredly a picture of a supremely dumbstruck Ron and Hermione.

“Fantastic,” the manager beamed. “And when you return, perhaps you would be inclined to bring a friend? A very close and well-known friend?” he finished with an insinuating smile. And with one more effusive “Fantastic!” he was gone in a swirl of shimmering fabric.

Ron and Hermione could only gape at each other for a moment, before Ron set his jaw angrily.

“That was …”

“Ridiculous,” she supplied, shielding her burning face with the leather-bound menu.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Ron grumbled under his breath, still glaring in the direction the manager had retreated.

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14 Days of Lust

14 Days of Lust

My 14 days of lust will all be set in an ‘interdimensional’ hotel/brothel of sorts, where clients can order ‘Rooms’ from a menu for various experiences for an evening. This allows for standard pairings but also fun crossover potential, since the Inn opens to all worlds and all times.  

How it works: Read over the menu, then select

Character or characters to be clients

Character or characters to be staff/Brothel workers



Scenario, if you want something specific 


Once you’ve selected settled on these send it in an ask. I’ll be accepting these until January 1st, at which point I’ll close submissions and pick out 14 of them. Remember the inn is magical, so if the client is human and wants to be a dragon it’s possible. If someone wants to have a magical cunt, it’s possible. Don’t be limited.

Examples: Youthful Dreams Room, teacher Iggy (client), Student Noctis (staff), spanking and object insertion. Scenario is author’s choice

Cabin in the Woods Room: Lost Shiro (staff), Cabin owners, werewolf Gladio (client) and Nyx (client). Biting, double knotting, rough sex, manhandling, and…cuddling. Shiro loses his way skiing and stumbles across blahblahblha.

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Complete Incompleteness

The cold mountainous air blew on Oliver as he sat in the back of the truck. Despite the warm clothes Tatsu had given him, he still was chilled, not only by the frigid weather but also by the idea of death, where he had hovered for the past three weeks. The sword wound in his chest was far from healed, but Oliver did not have time to ponder on dying. Tatsu had once again reminded him that life was for the living. The losses that had taken the spirit out of her soul— Mateo to the League and Akio by being a casualty of war and death, had given her such perspective. Her choice to be in the solitude of her grief was one Oliver knew well. All of his choices had brought him here, bouncing down a mountain road, guiding himself back home to the people who had taken away his isolation, had reawakened his humanity by giving him another kind of weapon to add in his arsenal—love. That sword wound was another failure in his life, and the scar it will leave behind, it will be another reminder that he was responsible for much of the loss in his life:  For his father, for Yao Fe and Shadoe, for Tommy and his mother.  He and Tatsu were the same kind of people, both of them were survivors, but they were also empty vessels who did not feel worthy enough to be filled with the sweet nectar of forgiveness.

When he told Felicity he loved her just before he left to fight and die for Thea, Oliver wasn’t just declaring his feelings for her, he was also finalizing them. He knew he was leaving to face the possibility of death again. It was a constant reality every time he put on his mask and went out to sacrifice his own personal safety for the sake of the city and those he loves. Felicity knew as well. She was terrified at the thought he might die on the mountain, and Oliver got a sense that there was more she had wanted to say to him, perhaps even tell him she felt the same for him—but Oliver did not leave any space open for her to give him another alternative, to help him find another way. So maybe his ‘I love you’ was also an apology for waiting too long, for letting her slip away from him that day in the hospital. Would he be on this mountain if he told her what she meant to him then? Would Thea be in danger because of the kind of life Oliver lived? Would he be willing to leave his vigilante crusade to capture the salvation Felicity would bring to his life? Would he feel alive if she took him in her embrace and turned his darkness into light? Would he even know how?

Having another chance to change the direction of his life, to escape back into the perception of being a hero and making a difference—that was where he wanted his destination to take him. And in the reality of who he has become these past two years, that person he wants to be will not be assured of victory unless he finds a way to end the threat Ra’s represented. Oliver came to that truth as he lay near death; saw it in the bloody bandages surrounding him as he came back to himself in the dim glowing of light in Tatsu’s home. Even as he took that first deep breath, when he came back from the dark plunge of Ra’s pushing him over the edge of the mountain, Oliver knew what he had to do. A plan to ensure that Thea and Felicity, John, Roy and Laurel stay alive and safe began to coalesce in his mind. He had to kill his enemy; just as he had learned to do on the island. He had to survive, because some many people important to him were counting on him.

The truck continued down the mountain. Oliver felt as if he was being taken over by paradox. He was both looking forward and backward at the same time. He was both filled with a purpose and an complete incompleteness, one that made him pause occasionally and think about the lovely contours of Felicity’s presence. He wanted that kind of beauty in his life, but he knew that he had to take such horrible action; to push his humanity to the edge of losing it again, before someone like Felicity could ever love him. She deserved to be with the survivor in him, not the man on a collision course with death.

The chill of winter moved further into Oliver and he pulled his coat tighter, wincing as it pressed against the wound in his chest. But Oliver had come back from that kind of thing before. The road map of scars on his body and in his soul was strengthened by the faces that hovered in his mind like the dark clouds racing past him as he set his course for home.

And those faces are who and what complete him. They were worth fighting and dying for. Oliver looked back one more time and gave silent acknowledgement to Tatsu’s sacrifice. He would make the same kind if it meant there was any chance of salvation and love to catch him as he fell.

A light snow began to fall and Oliver turned back to face his future. The flakes were soft and quiet as they fell from the sky and touched Oliver’s upturned face as if giving him reassurance. On a whim, he reached out and caught one on his tongue, as if he were an excited kid filled with the excitement and wonder of catching God’s tears.

@louiseblue1 @hope-for-olicity @it-was-a-red-heeler @memcjo @almondblossomme @lovelycssefan @scu11y22 @dmichellewrites @angelalafan @casydee @marytagus

[Murdoc x Reader] Hades and Persephone Pt. 3

Ayyyy actually managed to write this quicker than I thought.

- - -

The next three days would go by painstakingly slow.

You weren’t in the best mood after you found out the person you used to consider a close friend knocked you unconscious and kidnapped you, stowing you away in Kong Studios. You stopped talking to him after he openly admitted to the crime, which had hurt him dearly, but no words could describe how much he had hurt you. At the time, you didn’t care if you ever spoke to him again; Murdoc was someone you thought you could trust, but he managed to completely tarnish the sanctity of your friendship the moment she snatched you up from the streets. He’s tried many times to console you, to talk with you, to hear his side, but you didn’t want to hear any of it. Why would you, after all that’s happened?

And yet, despite having abducted you for unknown purposes, he remained true and showed that he still cared for your well-being by bringing you food and drink regularly, whether it was for breakfast, lunch, dinner or the occasional snack. Plus he brought you a TV with a DVD player to keep yourself entertained since you didn’t want to use the in-home theatre just doors away. You found it incredibly strange; you’ve seen many cop shows and documentaries about kidnappers and how they would abuse and/or torture their victims until they killed them or were rescued, and you were certain Murdoc would do the same to you.

But he was the exact opposite of what you expected.

He was…caring, gentle even, always making sure if you had what you needed and often asked if there was anything else you would want at the time. Not to mention he came in the check on your regularly around the clock when it was outside bringing you food and drink. You didn’t have an extra change of clothes since your belongings were still at your flat, but Murdoc managed to provide that as well in the form of extras from what you assumed was from the other members of his band. It was better than sleeping and wearing the same set of clothes everyday, so you couldn’t complain.

You have tried to escape when Murdoc wasn’t around, immediately trying to window but found that it was locked from the outside. When you went out into the hallways for a shower, you looked for alternative route out. Since your room was in the basement, or at least what could be considered the basement, you hoped to find a door that lead out like a normal cellar would. You found none, and the only way out was through a door at the top of a staircase that was always locked. So while you were being cared for, you were still trapped. So that eliminated any chances you had to escape.

During your stay, you became aware of your surroundings, mostly the various sounds that go on up above you. It was mostly walking, music, banging, yelling…It wasn’t hard to figure out who Murdoc was, given the trademark clacking of his Cuban heels could be heard anywhere. There were three other sets of footsteps you couldn’t recognize; one was similar to Murdoc’s but lacked the telltale clacking of heels, another set was heavier and precise, and there was one that was light and quick, like a child. They moved around a lot up there, and you often heard Murdoc yelling at someone which was sometimes accompanied with a scream or two. You weren’t sure what the banging or thumping was…although there were times you heard something being dragged across the floor on the occasion.

The studio itself was….odd. It felt more like a haunted house rather than a studio, especially with the other strange noises that went on at night outside of the band’s activities above you. Creaking was something normal in any old building, but you could have sworn you heard something moving out in the hallway, but whenever you checked the hallway was always empty. It didn’t help that you had a constant view of the graveyard just outside the studios, so that did nothing for your thoughts. It unsettled you, to say the least.

You became particularly bored when the fourth day finally rolled around. You had seen every DVD Murdoc had given to you, and there was nothing on any of the cable channels that caught your interest. On a whim, you decided to go check out the theatre since you hadn’t the entire time you were there, and it’d be better than being cooped up in your room the rest of the day.

After slinking out of your room you made your way towards the theatre; You heard more movement above you, but you had gotten used to it as you continued on your way…that is, until you heard the knob at the top of the stairs jiggle a bit. You dismissed it as Murdoc coming back down to most likely take your dirty dishes upstairs from breakfast…until you heard it. The distinct sound of a smack, followed by a yelp.

“Ow! What was that for–?”

“You bloody dullard! I told you to never go near this door!” You frowned. That was Murdoc’s voice…but who was the other person? Better yet, what were they doing up there? You stealthily eased up the stairs listening intently.

“What for? I just–”

“If I catch you anywhere near the door again, I’ll shove that keytar down your throat ! Got it?!”

You heard another yelp, softer this time, just as you heard Murdoc stomp off to regions unknown. “Bastard…” The other mumbled, and you could hear him shuffling off somewhere. You felt your heart leap to your throat as you suddenly became impulsive as you lifted your fist…

And knocked.

There was a long pause of silence that followed afterwards, but the shuffling stopped the moment your knuckles hit the wood. You held your breath, waiting pensively…unsure what you expect from the mystery person on the other side. When you didn’t receive an answer, you lifted your fist to knock again…only to hear another knock from the other side.

You gasped as you stepped back, but quickly covered your mouth before you could make a sound. Your swallowed hard, your hands were trembling, and your body felt hot. You tiptoed towards the door, delicately placing your ear against the cool wood…you didn’t hear anything, but you saw a shadow under the door.

They were still there.

“Hello?” You called, acting on another impulse.

“…Hello?” The mystery man mimicked, causing your heartbeat to increase. “Hello, is someone in there?”

“Y-yes.” You replied, trying to stop calm yourself. “Um….can you open the door, please?”

“Uh….yeah. One sec.”

You stepped back as you heard the locks click from the other side before the door swung open. The person who stood before you was tall and lanky to the point he almost towered over you. Spiky but messy blue hair, wearing a simple t-shirt, ripped jeans and sneakers. But what startled you was the fact that…he didn’t have eyes. Not any normal ones, anyway. His “eyes” were two black pits in his head that stared down at you. He blinked a few times before he squinted, as if he had to really focus on what he was looking at. “Oh. I was wonderin’ where that shirt went.”

You quirked an eyebrow as you looked down at your attire, which only consisted of a baggy blue tank top and sweat pants. “Oh…sorry. Murdoc gave it to me to wear.”

“He did?” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow as he studied you. “Are you a friend of his?” He asked slowly, almost suspiciously. It was then when you also that he was missing his front teeth.

“We’re friends, yes.”

Another pause, although you grew nervous and started messing with the helm of the shirt as you didn’t know what else to say or do. To be honest, you weren’t thinking when you called out to this man and to get the door open. Were you trying to escape? Or were you trying to sate your own curiosity as to who else lived in the studio? You could try to leave - this gent seemed nice enough to point you to the nearest exit but…what would you do after that? You didn’t know where you were or how to get back home, and the only one who had the answers to your dilemma was Murdoc. And you knew he wasn’t going to be keen on letting you go home. At the same time…what was stopping you from telling this man that you were kidnapped by that very same man? What was stopping you from asking - no - begging for help, pleading with him to take you far from this place? And after what he’s done, why did you still consider Murdoc a friend?

“Were you down there the whole time?”

The tall man’s voice brought you out of your thoughts as you nodded. “Y-yes. I’ve been here for a few days, actually.”

Another short pause, and he started to ask another question…until you both heard the familiar sound of Cuban heels against the wooden floor. You felt your heart drop, and you could tell your companion felt the same way as his head whipped behind him, only to find Murdoc standing just feet away staring at you both. His expression was unreadable when he looked at you, although his expression immediately turned into a dark scowl when he turned to the blue haired man next to you. His hands were balled into fists, which trembled as he marched towards him. “You little–!”

“Murdoc, wait!” You immediately got in front of the cowering human tower behind you, Murdoc immediately stopping his warpath as his expression soften. “D-don’t be mad at him…I…I asked him to–”

“Asked him to what?” Murdoc cut you off, completely bewildered.

Your mind was racing, but somehow you were able to think of a lie quickly. “I don’t know how to use the theatre downstairs and I needed help…I didn’t want to bother you and he was around at the time so…”

What were you doing?

You were covering for the guy, yes, but why did you make up that lie of all things? This was your chance to escape! You could easily run past Murdoc and get to the exit - regardless of if you didn’t know where you were or not, you could have ran to the nearest house or store or somewhere and asked for help! “You don’t mind, do you?”

Murdoc studied you, and you could see an almost….saddening look on his face before he heaved out a sigh. “N…no. I don’t.” He scratched the back of his neck before he extended a hand towards you. “Come on, then. I can show you how to use the theatre.”

“How come I can’t do it?” You turned to see your new friend frowning with his arms crossed. Although Murdoc could have sworn he saw a hint of triumph in those black voids he calls eyes… “She asked me, didn’t she?”

Murdoc immediately growled, clenching his fist tighter. “Stay out of this, Faceache–”

“No, Murdoc, it’s fine. Really.” You reassured, not wanting the tension to escalate further. You backed away from him before you beckoned for the blue haired man to follow you before you began to descend back downstairs with him following. “Oh, um…I didn’t get your name.”

“2D.” He replied with a smile. “My real name’s Stuart Pot, but I answer to both. What’s yours?”

“[Y/n]. It’s nice to meet you!”

Murdoc could only look on as he watched his lead singer essentially take you away from him. While he couldn’t afford raising any further suspicion, it still hurt him to see you walk off with someone else. He tried to ignore it, he truly did…but his biggest fear may have been unfolding right before his eyes…

- - -

Part 1

Part 2

anonymous asked:

What are your thoughts on whether they might go the comic book route for Karen in DD S3? I'm kinda afraid they may do it similar, but then another part of me thinks they won't. With all the things they've done differently w/ Karen & of course pairing her w/ Frank, who'd no doubt have literally no humanity left if something happened to her, I feel like they've done so much to make it so that they don't have to go that route. They seem to've made it that Karen's more important to the shows alive.

I never want to say never because I’ve been screwed over before by what I thought were the most reliable of shows, lol. However… you’re right, they’ve made Karen a very important character outside of just DD. She’s been undeniably important and independent from her first episode/DD’s pilot. Moreover, show!Karen and comic!Karen is a night and day comparison.

The homage that The Defenders made with that last shot of Matt recovering in a nunnery was a visual ode to the “Born Again” arc of the 80s. That’s not the arc in which comic!Karen dies (that’s “Guardian Devil” from 1999), but rather where she tries to become an actress in California and fails by becoming a porn star instead, sells him out to Kingpin for money after getting addicted to heroin, and then returns to NYC to find Matt, gets taken in by Foggy to save her from an abusive drug dealer, and confesses to Matt about Kingpin, after which they reconcile and move in together as she gets help for her addiction. That homage is why you have some Karen haters coming out of the woodwork again mentioning her comic betrayal.

But that storyline? That is in no way, shape, or form the Karen we get in the show.

First of all, show!Karen isn’t limited to being a copy-paste of comic!Karen – she also takes from Ben Urich, in both persona and storyline role. But, ultimately, she just stands 99% uniquely on her own. She’s a reimagined and complex character that only really shares name and initial job and love-interests with the one-dimensional comic origin of her that was constantly at the mercy of what the plot or other characters needed during the storyline of the day. (Not to mention that comic!Karen was the idealized innocent love interest caught up at whim by the drama around her, whereas show!Karen has had a dark past referenced numerous times which clearly points to a pattern of her continually overcoming bullshit and being able to take care of herself beyond shown DD canon.)

So, while I won’t say ‘absolutely not’, I will say that the writers would have an extremely hard time explaining their decision to borrow anything of her from the “Born Again” arc, and/or the “Guardian Devil” arc too, considering everything they’ve built. Which includes her relationship with Frank and her presence into The Punisher, too. It would be complete character assassination. And you’re right – what would it be for? Show!Karen is able to not only hold her own and keep character consistency within a storyline, but she actively drives most of them.

She gets the ball rolling and then she keeps pushing it, keeps expanding it, all the while being capable of supporting the rest of the characters around her, main and secondary alike. She’s a lynchpin. And show!Karen doesn’t spiral erratically the way comic!Karen does. She was framed for murder but instead of clinging to her lawyers that came swooping in like knights in shining armor, she kept her secrets close to her chest and tried to take care of exposing the cover-up herself. She faced multiple murder attempts and immediately after one, she argued with a vigilante about what was the right thing to do. She drank heavily the night of killing Wesley, and then she put herself together and sought refuge at the office to sober up. She blamed herself for Ben’s death, but walked away from his funeral with laser-focus on taking down Fisk.

She got shot at by Frank, but was still the only one willing to give him complete personal consideration by investigating him and his family on her own. She cared about Matt, but called him out for lying about his repetitive injuries, and took no bullshit at finding another woman in his bed. When Frank shows up again after everyone thinks he’s escaped prison to murder them all, she points a gun at him instead of cowering. She was considerate of Matt when he shared his secret identity, but she kept her independence by supporting him as a friend and continuing to grow into her new life/job as a reporter.

Show!Karen thrives on her own. Show!Karen has a strong pattern of character consistency.

In “Born Again”, Ben Urich helps Matt by investigating how he’s being framed and attacked by Kingpin, gets emboldened instead of silenced by a source’s death to go public with his findings, and is then saved by Matt. If DD S3 is going to use anything from the “Born Again” arc beyond visual nods and background references, then, with the way the writers intertwined Ben and Karen, I’d be more inclined to think her storyline would take from comic!Ben instead of comic!Karen.

And finally, when it comes to the possibility of them killing show!Karen off the way or in a similar way to what they did to comic!Karen, I circle around to the same thought, which is: Matt’s already done the storyline of having the woman he loves die in his arms. Twice now, really. And that was Elektra. To repeat that with Karen would not only be a disservice to her, but to Elektra and to Matt/Elektra’s intense love as well. It would threaten to reduce Matt to an emotionally stunted vigilante that leaves dead lovers in his wake.

Comic!Karen was already killed purely for storyline convenience; she was the person Matt loved that would die in the middle of the arc so he would be dragged to his lowest, only for him to recover at the end by defeating Bullseye and saving the messiah baby she’d tried to and thus find himself able to walk forward as DD with renewed purpose. (Don’t get me started on them having him name the baby after her and referring to himself as “Uncle Matt”; another thing I can’t imagine them adapting because, honestly, WTF).

Killing show!Karen doesn’t even have storyline convenience going for it. Instead, the writers would be shooting themselves in the foot by wasting her continued potential in multiple ways:

  • They’d lose the silent lynchpin of DD.
  • They’d lose the main and one of the only recurring females of DD.
  • They’d lose the universe’s burgeoning cross-show reporter.
  • They’d lose DD’s vigilante morality balance (Matt talks about the need for his vigilante justice, Karen is willing to sympathize with other versions of vigilante justice).
  • And like you said, they’d lose Frank’s still-breathing connection to humanity. She’s not Frank’s only connection (he’ll be getting Micro in The Punisher, too), but she’s the most important to him and by default from the origin of their story also the most intimate.
  • From all of the interviews and promotion, Karen’s role in The Punisher appears to be vital to Frank’s constantly fluctuating relationship with his own humanity. If they killed her off in DD S3, they’d lose calling upon that morality balance again in future seasons of The Punisher, too.

At this point, with her being mentioned as a tenacious reporter in Iron Fist, meeting Trish and Malcolm in The Defenders, and branching out to continue her helping connection with Frank in The Punisher, show!Karen only continues to become more important. And everything about her personally aside, I have to mention again the fact that she’s become a cross-show reporter. Journalism has played a role at some point in every Marvel Netflix show because it’s inevitably a component about getting the truth out (or a tool used by the antagonists to hide the truth). In the way that nursing vigilantes back to life led Claire into becoming a staple in (nearly) every one of the shows, I think being a headstrong reporter is just another component that could save Karen from being reduced to ‘killed off love interest’.

So, those are my thoughts. I’m afraid of them going the comic route for the sake of another 'comic nod’, too. But frankly, there’s so many more comic nods they can do without sacrificing her character consistency or her life, and Matt has more than enough man-pain to last him through DD S3 already. Show!Karen has gotten an incredible amount of development so far. I want to believe it won’t all be for naught.

The Unknowns: Six

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

This is a continuation for The Unknowns.  Which was a one shot and is now a long ass Prologue.  Part One.  Part Two. Part Three. Part Four.  Part Five. 

Dean x Psychic!reader

Teaser/Summary: An AU sparked from a songfic challenge, The Unknowns is based on Season One Episode Nine, Dean met reader in Lawrence as a child and they created an unbreakable bond. At the end of The Unknowns, reader decided to stick with her boys because she felt something coming but she holds secrets; one she holds close to her heart and a few that she doesn’t even really know yet.

Word count: 4839

Lines borrowed from season one episode sixteen, “Shadow” in Bold.

I walked around the living room and wondered what was taking the boys so long. Sam said it wouldn’t take much time to get the uniforms but I had been able to dig into Meredith’s past enough for a family member alias and talked my way into her apartment five minutes ago. At least a good thirty minutes of work. So much for costumes making it work. I should’ve made a bet.

This had always been one of the harder parts of hunting for me. The boys could search a person’s life for clues and most times stay objective, detached enough to do the job while still respecting the dead they’re trying to give a little justice. I walked through the shell of this woman’s life and picked up more than a fair share of who she was. The victims were always more real to me in a sense like I had known them, interacted with them, and sometimes cared for them.

Dean hadn’t understood it at first. He couldn’t understand why I couldn’t shake them off like other impressions but going through a place that someone had made their home left so many fingerprints of who they are, it’s impossible not to get to know them. Sometimes I felt like I had known them forever mainly because they felt like someone I had either known or like someone I would want to.

Meredith was orderly without being a clean freak. Her desk was neat but inside the drawers, things were haphazard. Her living room was nicely furnished but on a budget and she still kept CDs and cassette tapes with a stereo that played both instead of going completely digital. There were pops of color and decor that stuck out, things that caught her eye and she bought on a whim just because it made her day a little brighter.

Keep reading

maryjabassa-deactivated20171021  asked:

pls can you talk more about your tags in this post? twoquickdeaths(.)tumblr(.)com/post/153693799095

sure thing! 

so physicality as character is my really (really) verbose way of describing character actions that explicitly utilize the body, usually at the expense of the body itself. i love horror/sci-fi/action movies most than any other genre because by their very construction character’s bodies are the narrative. the alien HAS to rip out of you in order to be born, to time travel you HAVE to be totally bare and nude, to protect furiosa you have to put yourself and the life of your child on the line, because there is no other way.

it’s faster than introspection because it allows the audience to see the willingness of the character to withstand pain, to go against the ultimate survival instinct of staying away.


bc they begin with superman, and superman is the ultimate physicality as character character. man of steel didn’t do it first, but znyder and co. really did push it best. clark’s powers, his physical prowess, his mere existence, changes the course of the narrative in this universe. and what’s amazing about clark is what’s always been amazing about clark, HE GIVES ALL OF HIMSELF IN ORDER TO PROTECT PEOPLE. it’s not that he can die. we know he can’t die. there’s too much money to be made lol IT’S THAT WHEN DOOMSDAY STABS HIM CLARK PULLS HIMSELF INTO THE SHARP BONE BC IT WILL DESTROY DOOMSDAY.

now it’s not always about self sacrifice and grand hurrah moments for heroes, but that’s the stage where we’ve been with hero movies for a long time. it’s about the spectacle and the reaction, not the action and the cost. that’s why i think the dcu throws a lot of people off. there are consequences, and a lot of them HURT the characters or paint them in a negative (as opposed to bad) light.

in mos and bvs we have been shown just glimpses of what metahumans and beings like clark are capable of. it’s just the surface. suicide squad presents us with beings who have always existed this way, who have been caught, who are now at the whim of authority who absolutely does not care about them to the point where their bodies literally don’t belong to them anymore. i sentimentally wrote, body as more worthy than the soul, but amanda waller’s not like that. she doesn’t care about their souls either. she doesn’t care about their minds or what they think or whether they want to be part of the squad or not. they have no mind, no purpose, and their bodies aren’t theirs, they belong to the government. the only way they can make it out is to rebel, but freedom literally equals death. waller is pavlov in this, she hardwires the squad into submission and they have no choice but to conform.

here’s where harley’s gymnastics comes in. in this small space she has. in this tiny corner of the prison world. she has this skill and the means to use it. they cannot take this away from her. they cannot rip this skill from her mind. she uses it to sleep and to practice and it comforts her. later, we see this skill is important in her escape, and it’s a huge moment for her character, but also a huge moment for deadshot, because it’s about him as well, and his skill. it’s a moment where waller absolutely has no control over them, and even though it gets them nothing, it solidifies the trust and devotion they already have for each other and it showcases how skilled and strong they are.

all of my favorite dcu moments are physicality as character moments. the man of steel oil rig scene that i just can’t believe exists to this day (one day i’ll go beat by beat why it’s a stunning sequence), the batman saving martha sequence in bvs and in suicide squad when floyd is shooting down enchantress’s black tar things and everyone just watches in awe because holy hell. THIS IS WHAT THIS PERSON IS CAPABLE OF this is how powerful they are and strong they are. and he is a protector.

i could cry about this all day. actually i do cry about this all day lol. 

Commit to Memory

Author’s Note: This is a Juice Ortiz imagine based off of Your Call by Secondhand Serenade and imagine number 3 for Music Monday #2, as requested by a wonderful Nonny. This one is a tad on the darker side, but I hope it doesn’t disappoint. Let me know! Rated M for adult language and adult themes. ***Trigger Warning for abuse and violence***

**UPDATE** This is my work–originally posted to my old blog @callmemrskozik which is no longer in use. Just wanted to put it out there so people don’t fill up my inbox accusing me of plagiarism.

Commit to Memory


Waiting for your call, I’m sick, call I’m angry
Call I’m desperate for your voice
Listening to the song we used to sing
In the car, do you remember
Butterfly, Early Summer
It’s playing on repeat, just like when we would meet
Like when we would meet

I was born to tell you I love you
And I am torn to do what I have to, to make you mine
Stay with me tonight


“I told you I’d find you,” the calm, calculating voice pulls her from her thoughts and turning she sees Jesse standing in the doorway of the TM office, vibrating with anger.

“Jesse, you can’t be here,” her voice shakes despite how she tries to hide her fear. It’s been eighteen months since she left in the middle of the night, and even though she’s lived in fear that entire time she’s been trying to pull herself together, “the restraining order…”

“You stupid bitch, do you really think I give a fuck about what a piece of paper says?” he spits taking a step towards her. Her hand instinctively goes for the gun she knows Gemma keeps strapped to the underside of the desk and finding it gone, she closes her eyes on a broken oath.

His hand is strong as it circles her arm, pulling her up from the desk.

“We’re going for a little drive now Mari,” he says and she cringes having always hated the way he shortened her name and as much as she wants to correct him he presses the barrel of a gun through his coat pocket into her side and any and all arguments slide away. The people she has come to love and care for are just inside the clubhouse and she’ll be damned if anything happens to them because of her.

“Okay. Just let me get my purse,” she keeps her voice even and with some form of luck swinging her way he loosens his hold so she can bend down for her purse, and as she lifts it from the spot she keeps it under the desk she leaves in its place the simple silver ring Juice gave her, praying it’s enough.


“Hey babe,” Juice calls out as he closes the apartment door behind him. Every single part of him aches from the two day run, but it’s worth it now that he’s home with her. “Mariana?” He listens to the silence, confused by it, and glancing up at the clock he sees that she should be home. He notices the bowl that sits on the entry way table is empty, her keys and sunglasses nowhere in sight, and he wonders if she got caught up at work. Pulling the cell phone from his pocket he calls her, fear starting to nibble at his mind when it goes straight to voicemail.

It never goes straight to voicemail.

He paces madly as he dials Gemma’s number.

“Hey Juice,” Gemma’s voice fills his head.

“Have you seen Mariana?” he asks rubbing a hand over his head.

“No baby, I thought she was at home. I came to check on her at closing time and she was already gone,” Gemma replies and the silence that settles on the line is heavy.

“Something’s wrong,” Juice says, and without waiting for a response he hangs up the phone and runs for the door.


The truck bumps along a dirt road, and looking out of the window she tries to make out her surroundings, but nothing really sticks through the haze. Her body aches, thanks to his hands and anger, and all progress made in the last eighteen months has simply slipped away, the strong woman who had been blossoming effectively stamped back into the cowering shadow of who she used to be.

She wonders how many times Juan has tried calling her, knowing that by now he’s working himself up to a fever pitch of worry. Wanting nothing more than to be able to answer his calls, she presses her head to the cool glass of the car window and fights back the tears.

She told herself a year and a half ago that she would never cry in front of Jesse Wilkens ever again, and that’s a promise she intends to keep.


Stripped and polished, I am new, I am fresh
I am feeling so ambitious, you and me, flesh to flesh
Cause every breath that you will take
When you are sitting next to me
Will bring life into my deepest hopes,
What’s your fantasy?
(What’s your, what’s your…)

I was born to tell you I love you
And I am torn to do what I have to, to make you mine
Stay with me tonight


He sits, arms braced on his knees as he stares at the small circle of silver in the palm of his hand. It’s such a simple thing really, a ring that caught his eye while on a run and on a whim he bought it for Mariana, giving it to her for their one-year anniversary.

She had cried.

Not because she assumed it meant they were engaged, because they weren’t, but because as she would tell it, no one had given her anything before. Not her deadbeat parents. Not her abusive douche bag ex-boyfriend.

He made love to her that night, for what felt like the first time, taking his time to savor the way her body moved with his, the taste of her sweat slicked skin, and closing his eyes on the memory his palm closes around her ring. He worries, though he won’t say it out loud, that he didn’t take nearly as many opportunities to commit everything about her to memory, and the thought of not having the chance to do just that sets off an ache inside of him that he never imagined possible.

“Any word yet brother?” Chibs asks as he comes to settle next to him and with a shake of his head Juice opens his eyes to look at his friend.

“I want to marry her,” Juice confesses, slipping the ring into the pocket of his cut, “where is she Chibs? Where the hell is she?”

“I don’t know Juicy, but we’ll find her, I promise you that,” Chibs says clapping him on the back, “though it would be a hell of a lot easier if this was something she’d done before.”

Chibs’ words hit him like a freight train.

“Oh my God,” Juice says as he jumps up and runs for his laptop. “How did I not think of that.” He pulls his laptop from his bag and opening it he waits the agonizing few minutes it takes for it to boot up. “You’re a fucking genius Chibs.”

“I am? I mean of course I am, but why exactly am I genius today?” Chibs asks trying to bring an element of humor to the situation.

“Mariana has disappeared before, that’s how she ended up here,” Juice says as he starts typing in all information he has on Jesse Wilkens, and when the results come back that he had been released early on good behavior he swears. “Son of a bitch. I know who has Mariana, and I think I know where.”


And I’m tired of being all alone, and this solitary moment makes me want to come back home
(I know everything you wanted isn’t anything you have)

I was born to tell you I love you
And I am torn to do what I have to


She’s curled into herself, fingers tracing mindless patterns on the wall. Jesse snores next to her, and while a part of her has studied the space between her and the door she knows it would be pointless trying to make a run for it, as she’s handcuffed to her captor.

She had loved him once. A terrifying, all consuming kind of love that lent itself more to obsession and infatuation than to sincerity and genuine emotion. There connection had burned bright, like a supernova, scorching everything in its path, and when that light died out, she was left with the aftermath of a love gone terribly wrong.

When all was said and done and she managed to run away, she hated him; but more than anything, she hated what she had become while with him.

As a means of escape from the dark path her thoughts threaten to take her down she lets her mind wander to Juan, and a ghost of smile crosses her lips. Closing her eyes, she pictures his smile, remembering the countless nights they found themselves sitting naked in the middle of the bed they now share talking and eating, mostly junk, because though his body would indicate otherwise, Juan has one hell of a sweet tooth.

She wonders if they’ll ever do that again.

No, she tells herself. It will never happen again. Jesse will never let her go. She has two choices, pick up where she left off with Jesse, as if the last year and a half of blessed freedom from his control was nothing more than a bittersweet vacation, or die.

Like it says in Peter Pan, ‘to die will be an awfully big adventure.’ She lets out a shuddering breath as tears flow down her cheeks, but then she sees a flash of light shine through the window. Her heart catches in her chest, and when the silence grows agonizingly loud and long, she wonders if she simply dreamt it up until she hears the crash and the sound of splintering wood.

Jesse moves fast, rolling over her, and with her back pressed firmly to his chest, shielding him, he holds the hunting knife to her throat as light pours into the room.

Juan takes point with Chibs and Happy flanking him, and in spite of the way the blade bites into her throat she smiles.

She wanted nothing more than to see Juan’s face one last time.


And I was born to tell you I love you
And I am torn to do what I have to, to make you mine
Stay with me tonight
(I know everything you wanted isn’t anything you have)


“Drop the knife asshole, and let Mariana go,” his voice is low as he stares at the man he’s come to hate.

“Fuck you, she’s mine,” Jesse spits adding just enough pressure to the blade at Mariana’s throat that a drop of blood rolls down her skin, soaking into her shirt.

“I can’t get a clear shot brother,” Happy mutters angrily.

“Neither can I,” Chibs offers and he knows what it means.

It’s for him to do.

It’s the only way that Mariana will ever really be free of him, free to live a life without fear, free to live her life God willing that she chooses to, with him.

“Juan,” Mariana’s voice whispers through the fog clouding his head. His eyes meet hers and they shine, as a tear rolls down her cheek. “I love you.”

The room erupts as he pulls the trigger and when both Jesse and Mariana slump back he’s terrified that he missed his mark, but then he hears her crying, and pressing the gun he holds into Happy’s waiting hands he goes to her.

“I’ve got you,” he says pushing the hair from her face, looking past the spray of blood that paints her skin, “I’m going to get you out here Mariana, I promise, you just have to stay with me baby, stay with me.”


He helped her shower, gritting his teeth at the bruises and scrapes, and when she turned in his arms to press her face into his throat he held on as she rode out the storm of her emotions, and once she emptied herself he dressed her in one of his shirts and tucked her into bed, climbing in beside her.

His hand rests overs hers as he studies her face, and with a smile he brushes a kiss to her cheek, promising to ask her in the morning if she’ll give him the rest of their lives together so he can commit everything about her to memory.


“For the love of Gods, Montresor!” 

Finally the Garlean dog had caught on that it had not been some perverse game catering to his whims. The chains that bound him rattled on and on, yet it was not a plea she was willing to heed. Music to her ears, nonetheless.

She peered into the gap in the wall and watched his pathetic form writhe and struggle against his bonds. Their eyes met for the last time.

“Yes,” She smiled, placing the final brick. “for the love of Gods.”

Iron Man / The Avengers: Anthony Edward Stark [ESFP]

OFFICIAL TYPING by Charity / The Mod.

Extroverted Sensing (Se): Tony is comfortable engaging with the environment and using it to the best of his ability; when imprisoned, he uses the objects around him to invent the first Iron Man. He is comfortable in high-risk situations and enjoys physical engagement. Prior to finding “a purpose” as Iron Man, Tony is a playboy, caught up in indulging all his sensual whims (gorgeous women, fine cars, expensive parties, etc). Each situation is an “experience” for Tony, who goes straight for the quickest solution to resolve problems. He uses the world, connecting to and finding its possibility, without difficulty or hesitation – and nearly gets himself killed multiple times in the process. For the most part, he lets Pepper run his companies, preferring to “play” instead of “work.”

Introverted Feeling (Fi): Until the sales of weapons impacts Tony directly, he doesn’t care about them – and then once he reaches a hard line moral conclusion that it is wrong, he refuses to further make or sell weapons, which threatens the company’s bottom line. Tony’s Fi is unhealthy, in the sense that he often sticks to his own moral beliefs, without considering the fall out (refusing to sell weapons means closing some of his businesses, forcing hundreds of thousands of people into unemployment; he also disregards Cap’s feelings about Bucky, focusing on his own intense beliefs and need for revenge). Tony’s emotions bottle up, sometimes over years (his anguish over the last argument he had with his parents, finally exploding with rage when he finds out who killed them).

Extroverted Thinking (Te): CONTROL. Tony strives for it, constantly; he believes humans need monitored and protected, and that the Avengers need a check… government oversight. He sees a logical problem (the mass damage they have caused) and goes straight for the obvious solution (a contract forcing them to abide by rules) rather than engaging in creative thinking or finding loopholes (unlike Cap, whose Ti has analyzed the problems of governmental oversight). When Cap refuses to agree and sign the document, Tony recruits and avidly tries to force him into obedience. Tony often loops through Se/Te, creating brutal frankness in conversation, harsh insults and criticisms of others, and a tendency to disregard personal feelings to accomplish a task (ignoring Cap’s feelings about Bucky). Financial gain has little motive over Tony, who can put together business proposals but prefers to leave running companies to Pepper.

Introverted Intuition (Ni): Tony tinkers with inventions, but all of them pertain in some way to Iron Man after awhile. He fixates on this one project, obsessively refining and perfecting the suit. He reaches singular conclusions, a sense of what he believes is going to happen or what will “fix” the problem, and refuses to change his mind, which leads to conflict with the other types. It’s ONE WAY, all the way. Under stress, Tony becomes convinced of catastrophic impending events, and disaster around every turn. He becomes so caught up in this vision, he can’t see any other possibility or solution. Further, sometimes his excitement over creating things fails to take into account the futuristic fall-out (Ultron).

Note: I know, I know. I’m going to take heat for this typing. Stereotypes want Iron Man an ENTP. This one is not. No Ne. None. One solution, one object, one interest, one resolution to every problem is not Ne. Half the movies are about Tony reacting to and engaging the environment (Se) and fixating on a single opinion (Ni). He also has no Ti. His adaptability comes from Se, but when presented with difficult problems, Tony locks into using control, force, and rules (Te), rather than inventing a new system (Ti). The last movie really showcases this, with his single solution of “sign the document.” His raging emotions turn up frequently, far more than futuristic insight. Tony internalizes feels until he loses it. His PTSD a few movies back showed his inability to articulate emotion outwardly, instead leading into a depressive, paranoid spiral. There is a margin of error for ENTJ, since Tony does spend most of his time in an unhealthy loop, but he exhibits the paranoid symptoms of lower Ni, and he appears much more capable with Se than Te, suggesting it’s the dominant. Some of his decisions are incredibly short-sighted (Ultron??).

Silly Little Distractions

Sometimes Tyrell needed a distraction.

Work was such a sterile environment, such an everything-by-the-book environment. He thrived in that kind of environment, but even he had to admit that it could grow depressingly dull sometimes. The same little details, the same boring people day in and out could get so…monotonous. That didn’t bother him, not really, because he knew it was necessary for his plans, but a little distraction now and then could help him get through the day.

Elliot Alderson was a distraction.

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