the wood creeps

Jungkook Scenario: Moon Lily.

Request: Yeaaay requests are open! Could you write hogwarts!au jungkook fluff? <3 tq!

Harry Potter/Hogwarts AU.

Genre: Fluff.


Herbology was never jungkook’s favorite course, but for the past six months he’d gone more to the herbarium than he had gone while having classes with Miss Sprout. He smirked lightly, rushing his pace there, you were the only reason why he would so willingly spend time in that place at all.
It wasn’t odd to find you strolling around the different kinds of magic plants, going about the benefits of a certain leave and how magnificent every other flower was, so when he found you taking care of a bush of Belladonna he stayed at the door only to take his sweet time observing you.

He’d haVE to use Belladonna for his next test on potions class, and you had told him you were going to find him the best stash of seeds for him to succeed, because as always you were so ready to help out others even if they belonged to the Slytherin house, you were humble, sweet, dreamy, so you, so Hufflepuff at its best, and Jungkook, one of the proudest Slytherins out there was totally gone for you.
You sang softly to the Belladonna as if it was called the devil’s favorite plant for nothing and something in him felt warm just seeing you work on the plants.
Suddenly you turned your head startling him a little when your eyes landed on him. 

-Jungkook! You’re here-

He straightened his back and cleared his throat. -I just got here-

-And at a good time- you smiled and he did so as well in return. -I got your seeds- He arched a brow and you giggled. -For your test? Remember? You have a Potions test next week-

-Right the test- he exhaled walking closer to you. -You think with those seeds I can succeed? I don’t know anything yet-

-Jeon Jungkook- you scolded lightheartedly making him laugh. -You told you were going to put attention to potions, you have even been coming here to learn about plants to be more prepared-

Of course, Jungkook thought, he had said that to you to not make himself that obvious about him always wanting to be together. 

-You’re naturally good at this Y/N, teach me?-

You crossed your arms faking a scowl and then smiled when he didn’t stop staring. -Alright, but you should study by yourself as well- you extended the jar with the seeds which he placed in an inside pocket of his robe. 

-Thank you- he said stepping closer so he could kiss your lips, shortly but it still made you flustered. -How can I ever repay you?- he asked teasingly. -Maybe some smuggled butter beers, I know you like those-

You giggled. -I do like those, but actually…-

Keep reading

St. Vincent interview: Annie Clark on all-female horror anthology XX, plus Danny Elfman’s dead cat

We spoke to the musician about making her directorial debut with short ‘The Birthday Party’

By Clarisse Loughrey
Thursday 4 May 2017



Annie Clark (aka St Vincent) has made her directorial debut as part of the all-female horror anthology XX. She also, as it happens, doesn’t like horror movies.

“I really can’t unsee things,” she confesses over the phone. “And if I see something particularly gory, I will obsessively play it over and over in my mind and not be able to sleep. I just sort of fixate on those things. So, I intentionally avoid things like gore and sexual violence.”

Any personal aversion Clark may harbour is untraceable in her XX contribution, however, as it sits comfortably alongside work from horror stalwarts Karyn Kusama, Jovanka Vuckovic, and Roxanne Benjamin.

Entitled The Birthday Party, her short is morbidly hilarious, following a frenetic housewife (Melanie Lynskey) as she attempts to hide her husband’s cold, departed body in fear it may ruin her young daughter’s birthday celebrations.

A piece that she wonderfully, succinctly describes as “Weekend at Bernie’s meets Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”, though it was never originally intended as such a comedic venture. Penned alongside Benjamin, her fellow XX contributor, it started off life as this “sort of dark wood mahogany, slow-creep, self-serious kind of thing”.

Halfway through, the pair realised they were actually in the midst of writing a black comedy, and an entirely new palette was born. The Birthday Party is a pristine, pastel dream, immaculate in its conception, its 1960s-flavoured wigs and dresses, its suburban mirage. Yet, something far more sinister hides within.

“Everything that you see is completely fastidious, and everything is in its right place, but you open a drawer and it’s a mess,” Clark explains. “This woman’s so focused on creating this sweet life for her daughter and, in some way, keeping up with the Joneses, that she doesn’t realise she has a Leonard Cohen rip in her robe.”

“She’s really trying to keep it together, but she’s just going to be the whipping boy,” she adds. “It’s just not going to happen for her. Melanie brings so much art and humour to it, she’s an absolute vision.”

Indeed, Lynskey’s role in The Birthday Party arrives during somewhat of a hot streak for the New Zealand actor, thanks to her riveting performance in Sundance’s Grand Jury Prize winner, I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore. Clark, however, is a long-time fan of hers.

“I thought of her for the role, but thought there was no way she would do it,“ she enthuses. “She’s truly one of my absolute favourite actors of all time. Just on a lark, I asked her, and I was thrilled when she said, ‘Of course!’ and seemed legitimately excited about it!’

That said, Clark reveals Lynskey wasn’t actually the biggest star on set. That honour, apparently, belonged to a taxidermy cat that features in the film and happens to be owned by the composer Danny Elfman, whose children are friends with Benjamin.



“The cat basically had its own trailer,” she laughs. “You know what I mean? The cat was the most important person on set, because we were under strict orders to make sure the cat was not harmed.”

XX’s core philosophy lies in the promotion of female-focused, female-crafted narratives in a genre that’s had a troubled history with women; Vuckovic and Kusama’s pieces deal with mothers coping with supernaturally difficult children, while Benjamin’s sees a group of teenagers stalked by an ancient spirit while camping out in the desert.

Though Clark’s tale is female-focused only, as she sheepishly admits, coincidentally since she’s “bad at reading all the way through e-mails”, she still has some wise words to say about the state of the industry.

“We are all one,” she says. “And there’s this incredible connection between all of humanity that is deep and that is powerful. But, some experiences are not universal. So, that’s why it’s important to have people who have lived stories telling their own stories.”

Clark conveys both a deep enthusiasm for, and literacy in, the medium of film. Yet, it’s something she confesses she approached with a level of naiveté, to the point that scoring the film felt like a jump straight back into her comfort zone.

“The process of making the film was so immersive and so all-encompassing that, when it came time to do the score, I was just, like, ‘Wow! Phew, I can do this! This is so easy!’ I did it in, like, a day,” she jokes.



“That part was just completely instinctual and, I don’t want to say I just threw it together, because that’s not the truth, but I was so relieved to be in a space that I knew what to do that I just did it really quickly.”

Clark, of course, is far more familiar to the public by her stage name St Vincent, best known for her widely-praised, Grammy-winning, self-titled fourth solo album from 2014. “Music is a way more ethereal medium,” she reflects. “As far as structure and form.’

Not that her years in the music industry proved entirely useless, as she adds: “Both mediums are deeply collaborative. I think, in so many cases, the brilliance doesn’t necessarily come from one person and their exact vision. It’s more about one person’s ability to surround themselves with the most inspired team and, also, to motivate people. And have vision enough that people want to get behind it and execute it.”

Either way, Clark confesses she’s “really caught the bug, as they say”. Already, she seems to be brewing plans for a follow-up, which she envisions as falling somewhere between black comedy, drama, and erotic thriller. The cinematic world would do best to gear up for a real treat.

‘XX’ will be released on DVD on 8 May

[ Source ]
St Vincent interview: Annie Clark on all-female horror anthology XX, plus Danny Elfman's dead cat

Annie Clark (aka St Vincent) has made her directorial debut as part of the all-female horror anthology XX. She also, as it happens, doesn’t like horror movies.

“I really can’t unsee things,” she confesses over the phone. “And if I see something particularly gory, I will obsessively play it over and over in my mind and not be able to sleep. I just sort of fixate on those things. So, I intentionally avoid things like gore and sexual violence.”

Any personal aversion Clark may harbour is untraceable in her XX contribution, however, as it sits comfortably alongside work from horror stalwarts Karyn Kusama, Jovanka Vuckovic, and Roxanne Benjamin.

Entitled The Birthday Party, her short is morbidly hilarious, following a frenetic housewife (Melanie Lynskey) as she attempts to hide her husband’s cold, departed body in fear it may ruin her young daughter’s birthday celebrations.

A piece that she wonderfully, succinctly describes as “Weekend at Bernie’s meets Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”, though it was never originally intended as such a comedic venture. Penned alongside Benjamin, her fellow XX contributor, it started off life as this “sort of dark wood mahogany, slow-creep, self-serious kind of thing”.

Halfway through, the pair realised they were actually in the midst of writing a black comedy, and an entirely new palette was born. The Birthday Party is a pristine, pastel dream, immaculate in its conception, its 1960s-flavoured wigs and dresses, its suburban mirage. Yet, something far more sinister hides within.

“Everything that you see is completely fastidious, and everything is in its right place, but you open a drawer and it’s a mess,” Clark explains. “This woman’s so focused on creating this sweet life for her daughter and, in some way, keeping up with the Joneses, that she doesn’t realise she has a Leonard Cohen rip in her robe.”

“She’s really trying to keep it together, but she’s just going to be the whipping boy,” she adds. “It’s just not going to happen for her. Melanie brings so much art and humour to it, she’s an absolute vision.”

Indeed, Lynskey’s role in The Birthday Party arrives during somewhat of a hot streak for the New Zealand actor, thanks to her riveting performance in Sundance’s Grand Jury Prize winner, I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore. Clark, however, is a long-time fan of hers.

“I thought of her for the role, but thought there was no way she would do it,“ she enthuses. "She’s truly one of my absolute favourite actors of all time. Just on a lark, I asked her, and I was thrilled when she said, ‘Of course!’ and seemed legitimately excited about it!’

That said, Clark reveals Lynskey wasn’t actually the biggest star on set. That honour, apparently, belonged to a taxidermy cat that features in the film and happens to be owned by the composer Danny Elfman, whose children are friends with Benjamin.

“The cat basically had its own trailer,” she laughs. “You know what I mean? The cat was the most important person on set, because we were under strict orders to make sure the cat was not harmed.”

XX’s core philosophy lies in the promotion of female-focused, female-crafted narratives in a genre that’s had a troubled history with women; Vuckovic and Kusama’s pieces deal with mothers coping with supernaturally difficult children, while Benjamin’s sees a group of teenagers stalked by an ancient spirit while camping out in the desert.

Though Clark’s tale is female-focused only, as she sheepishly admits, coincidentally since she’s “bad at reading all the way through e-mails”, she still has some wise words to say about the state of the industry.

“We are all one,” she says. “And there’s this incredible connection between all of humanity that is deep and that is powerful. But, some experiences are not universal. So, that’s why it’s important to have people who have lived stories telling their own stories.”

Clark conveys both a deep enthusiasm for, and literacy in, the medium of film. Yet, it’s something she confesses she approached with a level of naiveté, to the point that scoring the film felt like a jump straight back into her comfort zone.

“The process of making the film was so immersive and so all-encompassing that, when it came time to do the score, I was just, like, ‘Wow! Phew, I can do this! This is so easy!’ I did it in, like, a day,” she jokes.

“That part was just completely instinctual and, I don’t want to say I just threw it together, because that’s not the truth, but I was so relieved to be in a space that I knew what to do that I just did it really quickly.”

Clark, of course, is far more familiar to the public by her stage name St Vincent, best known for her widely-praised, Grammy-winning, self-titled fourth solo album from 2014. “Music is a way more ethereal medium,” she reflects. “As far as structure and form.’

Not that her years in the music industry proved entirely useless, as she adds: “Both mediums are deeply collaborative. I think, in so many cases, the brilliance doesn’t necessarily come from one person and their exact vision. It’s more about one person’s ability to surround themselves with the most inspired team and, also, to motivate people. And have vision enough that people want to get behind it and execute it.”

Either way, Clark confesses she’s “really caught the bug, as they say”. Already, she seems to be brewing plans for a follow-up, which she envisions as falling somewhere between black comedy, drama, and erotic thriller. The cinematic world would do best to gear up for a real treat.

‘XX’ will be released on DVD on 8 May

As always, Zach Woods is quietly brilliant as Jared, somehow transforming his troubled past into fuel for the wellspring of optimism and loyalty that bubbles deep within him and informs his every action. In another actor’s hands, Jared would be a creep. Woods makes him a sweetheart. And in a world dominated by Gavin Belsons, he’s a unicorn.

Once upon a time a curious pale-eyed and black-haired boy wandered into a big, deep forest. The boy was so fascinated by the plants and animals in these woods that the hours passed by like fish swimming downstream and soon it was dark. The boy only noticed this when he came upon a clearing in the forest, where he could gaze at the twinkling myriad of stars above, glittering like no jewels ever could. Under this starry sky the child laid himself down and fell asleep, trusting himself to the stars care.

The boy had no idea how fortunate he was, for in the forest lived a big, vile spider who resented everything that could walk under the sun. The spider could bear no light, even moonlight left him horribly scarred. So in the darkness of the forest he dwelled, praying upon any that strayed into the woods.

On this night he had been hunting in a far and lonesome corner of the forest and only heard his webs sing when the boy was in safety. The young thing tempted the spider so terribly, he hadn’t had a bite so fresh since he’d been damned to the forest. The spider was patient and could wait, the moon on this night was barely a sliver and would set soon.

Thus the spider creeped towards the boy on the meadow with his long, spindly legs. The starlight pressed patterns into his body, new scars sprang into his flesh at every step. The prize would worth the pain, though, and he was already hideous.

Suddenly the spider felt a burning on his back more like the moon and the sun, intense and painful. He barely had the time to glimpse at a shooting star when he scuttled back into the dark depths of the forest. For a fallen star was standing now next to the sleeping boy, a star like a child of blond hair that shined starlight and twinkling blue eyes, that searched the woods for danger.

The spider became angry, for he could not even look at this star without hurting and he began to plot the demise of the star and returned to remote depths of the forest to wait for his time.

In the meadows the star turned his attention to the sleeping boy. He had gazed down at this boy from his home in the sky, wondering at the curious life of this human. He had worried when the boy had wandered into the forest, his fear growing until he had appeared in the meadow. This was the first time the boy had looked up at the sky for longer than a moment and the star felt as if it was him that the boy gazed at. His joy turned to worry soon though, for the forest loomed around the meadow and dark things dwelled there. Soon his fears came true and the most evil creature in the whole of the woods creeped out into the meadow.

The star didn’t hesitate for a moment and jumped down towards the boy, leaving his home in the sky behind. His descent was as fast as light and yet it still seemed too long for the star. The creature fled at the light and the boy in the meadow was safe for a time longer.
The boy stirred from his sleep soon, a shining star next to him made it seem like midday was upon him. But what gazed down on him was a much more wondrous than the sun.

The boy’s eyes went wide when he realised what stood watch over him. He had heard stories of falling stars, but never believed any, for they were set in times long past or lands far away. But now a real star stood before him and he was sure that nothing in the world could ever compare to the beauty of this star. His skin shimmered, eyes twinkled and his hair was a shining light, bright enough to light up the darkest of nights. The boy was quick to open his mouth.
“A star. A fallen star. How are you real?”
The star stared mutely back, his brow quirking up.

“How did you come down? You look like a human, how could you survive up there? Can you speak?”

At the last rapidly spoken question the star shook his head. Speaking was of no use up in the sky, the distances too great. Instead the star lifted up his hand and cupped the cheek of the boy. The boy had only time to freeze when his mind fell into the star’s. He saw himself there, at different moments in his life, and a question drifted to the forefront of his mind.

The boy gasped as the star let his face go and breathed:

“Sherlock- my name is Sherlock.”

The star smiled dazzlingly at him.

“What’s yours?”

The star scrunched his eyebrows together and shook his head.

“Well, I can’t refer to you as star all the time. Can I make up one for you?” Sherlock inquired.

The star nodded vigorously and smiled.

“I think I’ll name you… John. It’s a common name, but you are so uncommon already. And people tend to notice you less if you have a generic name, not like mine.”

The star smiled wide at his new name, but took hold of Sherlock’s hand to convey that he liked Sherlock’s name. He frowned at the sadness in the boy’s voice. Sherlock gulped and rambled:

“Some people think it’s a weird name and that I do weird things and that I should stopped and-”

Sherlock’s speech was cut off by John hugging him and conveying him emotions of care and happiness. Slowly he relaxed into the hug and for the first time felt like he had a friend. The star hugged him even closer and Sherlock smiled like he was truly happy.


For the lovely lovely @love-in-mind-palace, I started this as an ask to you, but it somehow grew and I now have an entire plot. Whelp! I just have to get it down on paper now.

I’m tagging also @addignisherlock and @predictably-unpredictable, because you may like it and everyone deserves something good!

If anyone else finds this worthy of liking and would like to be notified when (not if, I hope) I write more of this, leave me a message/ask and I’ll tag you!

Hunted (Part 3)- Young Derek Hale

A/N: So i just felt like writing this part to it even though it wasn’t specifically in the request, i got a little carried away and wrote more than i intended so sorry if it’s a bit long! I really liked writing this request and this little extra bit so if anyone wants a part 4 let me know who you’d rather have (Y/N) be with or maybe neither i don’t know but you all have great ideas so send them in!

Part 1  Part 2

Masterlist

Walking through the school corridors everyone looked at you, you’d lost your entire family and now you’d become the talk of the school. You were going to stay with the Hale’s, they were the closest thing to family you had left and you were so appreciative of everything they’d done for you so far.

“So what class have you got?” Derek asked you as he appeared behind you

“Chemistry” You sighed before smiling faintly at Derek’s look of concern

“We can skip it if you like” He suggested “If you’re not up to going to class just yet”

“It’s not like it will get any easier if I don’t go” You said “I’m fine” You smiled weakly before turning off into your classroom and left Derek stood in the corridor alone.

You still had another 20 minutes left of class before the bell would go and right now your mind was on everything except chemistry but the sharp knock on the classroom door snapped you out of your thoughts, the teacher signalled to enter and Peter stepped inside

“I need to speak to Y/N please” He said “It’s urgent”

You shot him a confused look before gathering up your things and apologising to the teacher on your way out

“What’s wrong?” You asked

“Nothing” He said smirking at you “I know that you hate chemistry and I was bored so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone”

You uneasily adjusted the straps on your backpack and watched as Peter’s face fell

“Oh my god Y/N I’m so sorry” He murmured “I didn’t think”

“It’s fine” You said forcing a smile “I can’t let myself get upset every time someone says something to do with death or killing”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, clearly feeling bad

“So where are we going?” You asked trying to change the subject

“I don’t mind” He said “Wherever you want to go”

“So you kidnap me from class and you don’t even have a plan” You laughed “Nice one”

Peter cracked a smile too and the pair of you waltzed out of the main entrance. You wasted your time just wandering around aimlessly until you both had to head back to school. When you got back it was break and you instantly headed to the table where Derek was sat at, alone.

“Hey” You said cheerily as you slid into the seat opposite him

“Why are you in such a good mood?” He asked “I thought you had chemistry”

“I did” You said, your voice slightly quieter than before

“But you hate chemistry” He laughed

“I said that I had chemistry I didn’t say that I’d go” You smirked

Derek’s face dropped for a second before he said “Actually you did say that you’d go”

You didn’t say anything.

“So where did you go?” He asked, maintaining eye contact

“Me and Peter just-“

“You and Peter?” He interrupted

You gave him a quizzical look before continuing “Yes me and Peter. We just went for a walk” You shrugged

“Why did you go with Peter?” He almost spat Peter’s name

“Why do you care?” You asked him

Derek didn’t answer you and before you knew it the bell rang loudly throughout the canteen

“Is that a new cologne you’re wearing?” You asked, catching his scent “because it smells like jealousy and it really doesn’t suit you” You said and quickly marched off to your next class.

For the rest of the day you steered clear of Derek, at lunch you sat by yourself and ended up copying some of the chemistry notes you’d missed and during your shared lessons you tried to distance yourself from him but it didn’t stop you thinking about him. You’d never seen Derek jealous and you had no idea why you skipping one class with Peter was such a big deal, you’d skipped class with Derek before so why did he care?

Everyone ran towards the exit once the final bell had blared throughout the school and you were no exception. You wanted to go to the woods afterschool to just gather your thoughts and to be alone for a little while which was almost impossible at the Hale household, although you liked being there everyone always treated you like a china doll so being alone for a bit was a nice change.

You’d spent the whole afternoon in the woods and darkness was creeping in. In the distance you heard two lots of footsteps heading your way, you hitched in a breath and remained frozen to the spot.

“How do you know she’ll even be out here?” You heard one of the voices who you immediately recognised as Peter say

“She always comes here when she wants to be alone” Derek said

You released the breath you were holding and relaxed your posture but you still sat there waiting for them to come to you.

“Look she’ll probably just come back on her own” Peter moaned

“You don’t seem particularly concerned about her” Derek said and both sets of footsteps stopped

“Derek she’s capable of walking through some woods by herself” Peter replied “She doesn’t need to be treated like a kid”

“I’m not treating her like a kid” Derek protested “I’m treating her like a friend”

“A friend? Really? You expect me to believe that?”

Neither of them said anything and a brief silence fell but was just as quickly broken by Peter

“You’re desperate to be anything but friends Derek” He said and your eyes widened at what he was insinuating

“No I’m not” Derek said and carried on walking “but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about her unlike you”

“Unlike me?” Peter scoffed “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s just a game to you” Derek said “I mean why else would you skip classes with her and lend her your clothes and-“ Derek cut himself off mid-sentence “You like her too don’t you?”

The footsteps stopped and you guessed that the two boys were facing one another. You hadn’t moved an inch since you first heard them and you didn’t intend on revealing yourself anytime soon.

“Don’t be stupid” Peter said and one set of footsteps carried on again

Derek just let out a small laugh and started walking too

“I just feel bad for her that’s all” Peter argued his defence “She’s lost everything, I’m being nice” He emphasised the word “nice” and you found it hard not to let out a small laugh at the thought of Peter being “nice” to anyone.

“You don’t do nice” Derek stated “You’re lying to yourself”

“Well then you’re lying too because I don’t think you realised that you practically admitted your feelings just a minute ago” Peter retorted and the woods fell silent once more.

Virgil and Miss Lucy vs the Dead

1


Pine Creek Farm was out past the edge of town, where roads turned to long unbroken stretches, up and down the hills that eventually disappeared out into dark evergreen forests.  That was the way of things, when the farms stopped fighting back, the deep woods would creep in.

It was a big property, a huge old farmhouse distant at the top of the wending drive.  Fenced in, gated, but other than that looking ordinary, if made to a scale out of the norm.  Even the fields nearest the road were tended, though Lucy knew it was only for show.  The wood out back was left to its own devices.

A farce, a smokescreen.  

They turned up the long, dark drive, wheels crunching over gravel as they started up the ominously long way to the house.

“Shouldn’t there be more mist and graveyards, Miss Lucy?” Virgil asked her from the passenger’s seat, looking a mite wan under the steadfast expression.

“No, this is where they come after the graveyards,” Lucy said, smiling faintly at the puzzled look cast her way out of the corner of her vision.  "It’s like a…rehabilitation center.“

"Now what does a vampire need to go to rehab for?”

“Time, Virgil.  Time.  This is where they come when they wake on up an’ don’t know about the world they’ve gone an’ ended up in.”

She let that sink in, rolling down the window as they rolled up to the gate.  Lifting a hand in a gesture of silence, she leaned out the door and hit the button on the speaker box.  It buzzed gently, and she waited, breathing in the scent of the night fields and the pine wood beyond.

“Yes?”  the speaker inquired, in a sonorous, somnolent voice.

“Hey, Theo, it’s Lucy.  I gotta talk to the Missus,”  she said, regretfully, “I apologize for the fuss.”

“I will inform her.”

The speaker buzzed again, and she leaned back into her seat, shaking her head.  Virgil still had his gaze fixed on her, expectant, but she waited until the gate started swinging open before she addressed him again.

“Theophilus is the main man for the lady of the house.  Live meat walkin’ into the place always causes a bit of furor,” she explained, drumming fingers against the steering wheel as the car crept up the last of the drive.  

“Live…meat.” Virgil repeated slowly.

“Better or worse, that’s what we are.  They hang out ‘round here until they get the lay of things, then they start the immersion therapy.”

“You’re saying all sorts of things I don’t understand, Miss Lucy,”  Virgil said, and then peered over at her, as she fought back a smile, “on purpose, I’m thinking.”

The front lights of the house came on as they drove into the cleared space in front of the house.  Not many cars, they were discouraged from bringing them by.  Made the house look too suspicious, too posh.  But the Missus had her sensible little electric thing, which never failed to look silly as all get out round about here.

Lucy parked her four-door next to it, and turned off the engine.

“You know two for one beer night, over at Dezi’s?”  She asked him at last, pulling her key out of the ignition.

“Sure, I always go to Miss Desiree’s.  Everybody does.”

“That’s immersion therapy,” she said, reaching for the door. “Long as nobody ends up dead, I ain’t in the business of compainin’.”

“They…use two for one beers to bite people?”

He sounded so disturbed that she had to bite back a chuckle, lest he get offended.  She covered it up with the business of getting out of the car.  Leaving behind her axe made her uncomfortable, but upsetting predators was rarely a good idea.  

“Well, they gotta figure out how to live and let live, Virge.  It’s a different world than the one some of them came from, and Missus keeps everyone here safe in exchange for it,” she explained, waiting until his lanky self got out before locking up the car.

“Wouldn’t it be better to…” he lowered his voice, “kill them?”

“They can be civilized, we can too.  Enemy you know, and all that.”

He gave a faint 'hm’, but didn’t say anything else as they moved up for the front door.



Lucy was feeling a bit better about bringing Virgil along.

He’d said nothing, as they’d moved through the front hall, following along behind the stooped skeletal figure of Theophilus.  The outside might not have fit the look, but the inside certainly did.  Old, stern oil portraits glared down at them as they took off their shoes in the entry, and they followed their progress down a hall to the left.

Every now and again a figure would watch them from a doorway, rooms where televisions blared, radios played.  There was even a television she saw out of the corner of her eye with the latest war game being played.

The Missus had an office down the end of a hallway peppered with private rooms, the door left cracked, golden light spilling out onto a multicolored rag rug. 

Instead of the starched, poker-faced portraits, the wall outside her office had a pair of cross-stitches. One with little birds, flowers, and the inscription 'Bless this Mess’, and the second a rather impressive rendering of a Pekingese. Still ugly, in its squashy face and strange body, but deliberate rather than accidental.

“Well, there ya are!  Don’t be sitting outside the door like that!”  A cheerful, robust voice beckoned from beyond the door.

Too cheerful.  She probably already knew what was wrong, then.  Steeling herself, Lucy rolled her shoulders back, and slowly pushed the door open, stepping through it.

“Sorry to bother you, Missus.”

The door swung wide, admitting entrance to a room so decorated that it felt almost stifling.  Delicate doilies, careful works of art adorned every possible surface.  A small couch on the left side held more embroidered pillows than any person could possibly use.  Tiny statuettes, decorative dog-painted plates,  even one of those god-awful knitted tissue covers with the doll head and hands.

It was like a retirement center craft fair had vomited everywhere.

Seated at a solid oak desk, beaming so contentedly that it was nearly a threat was the Missus.

Small and rotund, dressed in a sweatshirt with a polo underneath, she looked about as nonthreatening as could be.  Lucy knew she wasn’t, but it never failed to shock her just how ordinary the iron-fisted, ancient woman was.

“You’re not a bother!”  the dark-haired, artifically pink-cheeked woman declared, twinkling gaze taking in Virgil as he slumped in, “Well shoot, if I'da known you were going to bring a friend, I woulda found some beverages.”

“Sorry, Missus, I’m afraid it’s spilled over a bit.  Virge digs graves.  Graves that aren’t staying covered up.”

Blunt, she had to be blunt.  Every second spent here was a danger.  She’d already heard some people in the hall beyond them.  They were safe in this room, but beyond?

Hardly.

Missus’ smile remained, but the cheer was drawn slowly out of it, leaving it cold, hard, and vaguely threatening.  A hand lifted up, removing orange plastic framed glasses, folding them up.  Without them she looked remarkably less jolly, despite the dog-appliqued pink sweatshirt.  

“Well, jeez.  That’s just a gosh darn shame.”

A non-answer, and a sly one.  A testing one.

She saw Virgil step forward, open his mouth, but she lifted a hand pleadingly.  He didn’t know, that was all.  Didn’t know the delicacy, the danger.  Yes, she was harmless-looking, but that didn’t mean she was.  If anything, it was the opposite.

She’d tensed herself up waiting for him to speak, but surprisingly he listened to her wordless plea.  He closed his mouth right up, shoved his hands in his pockets.

Would wonders never cease.

A man that could listen.

“Well, for Pete’s sake.  This is a pickle.  Can’t have people running about disturbing the peace.” Missus sighed, when it became clear no one was going to rise to the bait, “I suppose you’re looking to me to straighten this little mess out, huh?”

“I’d sure be grateful.  If I go an’ straighten it out, I might have to ruffle some feathers,” Lucy agreed as mildly as she could manage.

Missus steepled her hands together, the sparkly fabric paint of her sweatshirt catching the light and glittering as she leaned forward.  Her dark eyes were deep, anciently unreadable, and her smile held the edge of a fang, just a hint to catch the light.

“Honey, I sure don’t like it when you threaten me.”

Even If It Kills Me

A/N: I’ve had a few requests for a fic about the surgeon and how Chat got his scars. I didn’t expect it to turn out like this…this is way more brutal than I originally intended it to be.

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing(s): Ladynoir, Adrienette

Rating: M - for graphic violence and swearing. 

Word Count: 3756

Original Fic: Finding You

Summary: How did Chat get his scars?

Days before finding Hawkmoth, Ladybug and Chat face off against The Surgeon—a brutal akuma who manages to knock Chat out and try to get a good ‘slice’ of information out of him.

After saving him from the akuma’s clutches, Ladybug is unable to leave his side and tends to his wounds before watching over him as Marinette. Companion piece to 'Finding You.’

On Ao3

On FF.net

Chat hated hospitals.

Well, technically Adrien hated hospitals. But Chat was Adrien so by proxy Chat didn’t like hospitals either.

But that was beside the point.

Aside from the fact that hospitals were full of sick people, the overall atmosphere was what got to him most. The walls were white and bland, the halls were huge.

It just felt so haunted and empty. How anyone could be here all the time and not have a breakdown baffled him.

Until today.

It was only a matter of time he figured until he and Ladybug had to show up to a hospital to get rid of an akuma—in fact, he was surprised it hadn’t happened years earlier when this whole thing with Hawkmoth first started—but now that it was happening…

Chat was having a hard time focusing.

They’d successfully evacuated the East wing of the hospital as Chat distracted The Surgeon, and now Chat was jumping around the halls, and desks. The walls and doors that separated patient rooms had been blown away, so the Eastern wing was now one large indoor area with carnage everywhere.

Chat was ducked down behind a toppled table when Ladybug silently rolled in next to him.

“Where’d he go?” she asked.

Chat smirked, “Nice of you to drip on in, m’Lady.”

Ladybug’s brow furrowed, “Is that supposed to be an IV reference?”

Chat’s grin just grew wider.

Ladybug shook her head and sighed, “C’mon, Chat. Focus here, okay?”

The blond nodded, peeking over the top of the table. The Surgeon had disappeared a minute or so ago after trying and failing to plunge a needle into Chat’s neck. He threw the syringes like darts, and it was only sheer luck that kept the black cat from getting stuck.

It was bound to run out eventually.

Chat gestured toward the doors that lead to the West wing of the hospital.

“I think he was trying to head to one of the other wings. I’ve blocked the door, so he’s definitely in here.”

Ladybug nodded, “I’m gunna go check over there.”

Ladybug kept low to the ground, crawling over obstacles and keeping behind large bits of wood, creeping ever so slowly toward the door. Once she was out of his direct line of sight, Chat went to move when a sound pricked his hears, catching his attention.

His head snapped around to see The Surgeon hiding behind a wall divider, watching where Ladybug had just ventured off to.

Not on my watch you don’t.

Silently, Chat circled around, never taking his eyes off The Surgeon. He didn’t question how his hands and feet knew just where to go to avoid the bits of metal on the floor. He didn’t even think about the aching in his joints from where debris had fell on or was whipped at him. He just kept his eyes on the akuma.

The sound of a loud crash and Ladybug’s yell diverted his attention for only a second, but it was enough that when he looked back, The Surgeon was gone.

“Fuck.”

Chat sprinted over to where he last was and then around the corner, following the sound of the falling footsteps. He knew his partner was down the hall and there was no way he was letting his Lady get hurt.

Silently he advanced, closing the distance between him and the akuma. His feet moved silently on the ground until he was close enough to leap on the doctors back and wrap an arm around his throat.

He had to keep in mind that this person was a victim that was taken advantage of by Hawkmoth, so he had to immobilize him while at the same time keeping him alive. The more ruthless the akuma was when it came to attacking his partner, the harder it was for Chat to remember that.

In this case, cutting off oxygen to his brain and getting him to pass out was the best option.

Tightening the hold of his legs around the man’s waist, Chat wrapped his right arm around his neck and kept it secured with his left hand hanging onto his right wrist. His grip tightened as The Surgeon struggled, trying to throw Chat off.

Stars burst across Chat’s vision as he was backed into a brick wall and he hissed under his breath, but his grip didn’t waver. His head felt dizzy as the man spun, but again, he didn’t waver.

It was only when The Surgeon jumped and fell on his back—and in turn Chat’s back since he was holding onto him—that another blow to his head had him falter. With the wind knocked out of him, the blond found it hard to breathe and The Surgeon took this moment to break free from him.

“Shit!”

Chat snickered as he watched the man look back to where Ladybug had been, and obviously see nothing.

Not this time, Hawkmoth.

At the sound of his chuckles, The Surgeon turned back to him and stalked over, pulling him up by his collar.

“You know where she went, and you’re gonna tell me.”

A cocky grin spread its way over Chat’s face as he stared at the pink butterfly mask that was currently hovering over the akuma’s face.

“Not a chance you basta—”

In a flash, a sharp pain in his neck caused his breath to hitch. Glancing down, the presence of The Surgeon’s hand registered as his fingers fell way to reveal an empty syringe plunged into his neck.

“Mother…fuck..er,” he slurred as gravity claimed his body and his vision faded.

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hi everybody! idr where this idea came from tbh, it might’ve been related to the scaretocare stream but either way, i have some fic for you and boy is it a doozy.

here are ~3.8k words of rubberbang featuring dom!ross/sub!dan, daddy!kink (i mean a hell of a lot of it so if that’s not your thing, look away now), spankingverbal humiliation/dirty talk, light bondagefacefucking, rimming, and other stuff; i hope you have fun:

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A Whisper - Part 1

Words: 6106
Dean x Ghost!Reader
Summary: Y/N encounters Sam and Dean when they bust into her house on a hunt. She’s not sure why she’s being ignored until another spirit clues her into the fact that she’s a ghost. She wants to help Dean, as she’s attracted to him, but doesn’t quite have the hang of being a Ghost yet.
Warnings: none really, unless you’re scared of ghosts!
Requested by anonymous
A/N: So I lied to you guys, but it’s the good kind of lie. I said this would be a one shot but it was getting long and I wanted to get it out to you all. SO it will have a part 2 that I will most likely post right away when I finish it. :) I got lost in this story! Thanks for the request and happy readingggg xoxox

Your name: submit What is this?


You sat stock straight up in bed, ears straining. Footsteps. Someone was walking around downstairs. Your heart began to pound; feeling like it was trying to break out of your chest. You squinted at the clock on the nightstand, the display glowing an eerie green in the dark; 1:05 am. You swung your legs out over the side of the bed and down onto the wood floor, creeping to listen at the doorway. You heard definite movement, muffled voices. Your unease grew as lights flickered against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, reminding you of the orbs from flashlights. Someone was in your house.

You quietly tip-toed back to your dresser and slid out the top drawer as silently as possible. Inside lay a small silver handgun, a family heirloom. You clutched the cold, heavy metal in your hands and crept back to the doorway, peeking your head out across the threshold. The hushed voices and footsteps were still echoing downstairs.

You had a moment of indecision and then returned to your nightstand, grabbing the phone and dialing 911. An operator answered immediately.

”911, what is your emergency?”

You whispered as quietly into the phone as you could while still making sure the person on the other line would be able to hear you. “Yes. There are some people in my house! Send—“

”Hello? Is anyone there?”

You spoke a little more loudly. “Help me! Please! Someone must have broken into my house! They’re walking—“

”If anyone is there I can’t hear you, there seems to be some sort of interference. I’ll dispatch emergency services to your location. If you can, stay on the line. Hello?”

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Alpha Tension Part 22

Part 22: Returning to the hospital, you notice your phone blow up with messages and you wonder what that means for Dean. Is he alright? Did he survive? 

Characters: Dean X Reader, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer

Series Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 1023

A/N; prepare yourselves. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14  Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

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