könig is a man who’s emotions depend on external validation (am i projecting? no shut up)
so he opens up a tiktok account where he posts all those thirst traps, all those silly videos where he flexes his arms, muscles and skin twitching and moving, tight shirt pulled tight around the sheer size of him
he starts small, just a few people liking and commenting compliments, a few wilder ones leaving some out of pocket comments that he giggles at while his cheeks and ears are red
but then someone comments something about wanting to know him more, ‘what’s your favorite scent?’ or ‘what’s your preferred furniture store?’
kinda weird, but he’s so intrigued that he makes a tiktok answering your strange questions, listing off his favorite colors, mentions ikea (and the satisfaction that comes with building his own furniture when he doesn’t have the time to actually cut out the wood), also mentions he loves guns and knives, and then turns the questions to you
after he posts that video, he gets on his computer and searches you, any tiny information he gets from your phone getting filed away in his head. your account is private but that’s not even a problem for his skills and the technology he has available
he finally finds you, sweet looking thing, so soft and pretty. he has access to your phone camera and will soon own your television and computer’s view too
you’re on your bed, laying on your side with half your face squished into the pillow, and you’re looking at your phone. he can hear his voice sounding from the little speakers and when he turns the questions to you, you giggle, and he falls in love with the noise
You haven’t been happy in years, but being a successful author meant you had a roof over your head and food that wasn’t swiped from the trash. You were content. However, your peaceful hermit days are threatened when the hate mail becomes very real death threats and you are forced to accept a bodyguard.
Jason Todd doesn’t have a lot to be thankful for. Absent dad, sick mom. Homelessness. Hunger. Then came a different shitty dad. Oh, and he died once, after he was tortured by an evil clown. Now he’s back and he’s ready to give the world back what it gave to him, but he is forced to rethink his priorities when he realizes that the one good thing he ever had is in danger.
Your character settings: AFAB, human, civilian
Content/Trigger Warnings: obsessive love interests, stalker behavior, death threats, depression, self-harm, suicide attempt/ideation/reference
Other Tags: childhood friends, best friends, friends to lovers, bodyguard romance, writerclaire is a Jason fangirl so the glazing may feel excessive
Author’s Note: There is no use of Y/N, though the reader's pen name is literally “Y.N.”
Chapter 1: After The End
Chapter 2: Lost Days 🩸
Chapter 3: Nonchalant
Chapter 4: Stargazing
Chapter 5: Coming Soon.
[Dedicated is a newer, longer and improved version of my one-shot, Old Friends. Dedicated is crossposted on Quotev and AO3.]
Disclaimer: The image of Red Hood used in this post does not belong to me. It’s by Dexter Soy and was lifted from: https://www.reddit.com/r/DCcomics/comments/h0iavp/cover_from_red_hood_and_the_outlaws_20_by_dexter/
How many people still like TFP? I got this story idea for a Rachet/Soundwave short.
It'll take place after Ratchet gets taken by the Decepticons to finish the Synthetic Energon formula. I'm thinking weird stalker behavior from Soundwave and an unnerved Ratchet who finds it weirdly endearing.
I really should be finishing up my constructiprowl fic before starting a new project, but I've been hit with the TFP beam. 😭
something something coop noticing your muse not taking care of themselves so she breaks into their home and stocks their fridge and tidies the place and leaves a gift basket with a card with her name on it so they're only marginally freaked out that someone got in :)))))
Will Graham: I am giving you the opportunity to disappear. I won’t chase you. I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want to know where you are or what you do.
Hannibal: Hard pass, I will haunt you.
Will Graham: Ah, fuck. I guess I’ll like, move to Moosonee or something.
The late afternoon sky was the same sickly yellow bordering on green that reminded him of the distended, bloated flesh of undiscovered corpses, and a part of him found it a rather fitting omen of what was to come. More than just a thunderstorm lurked on the horizon, churning and gathering its might before striking the landscape with fury. These were final days, and time was steadily ticking down…
This world and its way of life were drawing to a gasping death rattle, and Tommy had yet another choice to make. And now he had the free will to consider all his options.
Maybe that’s what had prompted this compulsive urge to come here, standing bareheaded in the mounting gloom as the encroaching storm rolled ever closer. The breeze lifted strands of his longish hair, tickling his ears and neck as he watched the window that looked in upon Jason’s bedroom.
‘I have to see him… If I can just look at him, then I’ll know what I’m going to do.’
The faint scent of rain reached the teen, the low electric static in the air building and playing across the exposed flesh of his arms. He shuddered but was not deterred from his position amongst the vegetation that bordered one side of yard. Concerns over silly things like lightning were far away at the moment, or it may have been that he was so arrogant that he believed it wouldn’t dare.
Tommy’s breath caught in his throat at the subtle movement behind the windowpane. A few light droplets splashed his upturned face, gliding in errant trickles over his angular features yet he barely registered the sensation. Unconsciously, he moved towards the house as if hypnotized, his hazel eyes never leaving that opening into the Red Ranger’s room, one that he’d clandestinely climbed the latticework to look into on more occasions than he could count.
He knew Jason was home, had watched his car pull into the driveway, had tracked the red and white letter jacket as his prey stiffly hobbled up the walk to the front door, the obvious limp breaking the Green Ranger’s fruitless ruminating on what he was considering. Tommy grinned, remembering smashing the other teen’s knee in the heat of their last battle and not letting up on the injured joint the entire confrontation after that.
There was only so much Ranger healing could do with such an onslaught of dedicated trauma in so little time. It was almost like he’d marked Jason and that appealed to him greatly.
Now, Tommy was directly alongside the wall of the home, and the heavy, swell of clouds finally opened up with an ominous crack of thunder that nearly went through him as the deluge consumed him. His cotton tank clung to him, his hair soak and sticking to the skin of his cheeks and back of the neck, as rivulets made chaotic waterfalls from the tip of his freckled nose, his lips, chin, and jaw.
At first blush, a passerby would believe that the pale, sullen teenager looked as ferocious as a bedraggled kitten, nothing like the deadly, evil monster he truly was. He almost looked too soft and pretty to be so demonic. But the thoughts compulsively cycling in that head of his….
‘Am I going to do it? Really do it, not just fantasize and daydream silly, ‘what-if’ scenarios…’
He knew the unspoken expectation after all.
As the Red Ranger, Jason was the leader and supposed to die; he was too dangerous to be allowed to live. His death would be a devastating blow to his teammates and the rest of Angel Grove. It was a given that the mouthy smart ass would be killed.
Tommy’s shaky hands found the wooden edgings of the trellis, the toes of his sneakers working into the cross beams as he once more climbed up to the slanted roof just outside the glass. His hands moved one over the other, his feet seeking purchase in the flimsy wood. If not for his slender build, it wouldn’t have held him.
Finally, he was hefting himself onto the rough shingles, mindful to move slowly and carefully while sidling closer to the brick beside the painted frame. The Green Ranger strained for any sounds that might be coming from the bedroom, but he could hear nothing over the roar of the rain and its thunder.
‘I was too hasty before, too impulsive…I can see that now,’ he thought disjointedly to himself. “I didn’t have a good enough plan in place.’
Now, Tommy could see that it was fortuitous that Bulk and Skull had interrupted his ill-conceived scheme to abduct Jason at the Youth Center that night, though it still pissed him off and rankled his pride. There were too many holes in his plan with not enough care taken to properly consider the logistics of his underhanded plot.
The whole thing was absurd to think about, yet he hadn’t been able to help himself after the conversation he’d had with Scorpina that day in the armory…
He could feel the roughened wood and its jagged splinters digging into the backs of his thighs through the green silk as he perched sullenly atop the lid of the aged crate. Scrunching his freckled nose in irritation, Tommy squirmed, shifting his lanky physique as he sought a more comfortable position.
Scorpina smirked, casting a quick glance in the Green Ranger’s direction as she worked her blade in long, smooth strokes across the finely grit whetstone. It had taken her some time to become accustomed to the moody child/warrior stalking the corridors of the lunar palace, but she’d grown rather fond of Tommy to her surprise. Perhaps it was because the boy had started shadowing her, peppering her with questions about her life, how she had risen through the ranks and gained her infamy, and how the intricacies of the alien social hierarchy worked.
When the pale, surly teen descended into the chilly armory that day, the petite woman was curious what topic Tommy would desire to discuss as she slicked her sword to razor sharpness.
“So,” he mused, casually, “I noticed that you and Goldar have several enslaved…uh… ‘creatures’. Is that customary in this new alien society that will be taking shape on Earth?”
Scorpina smirked, her full red lips twitching in amusement. She continued the work to her weapon, periodically testing the deadly edge with the careful touch of a slender finger, as she began explaining the retinue of beings that lived at her and Goldar’s feet.
“The status of a captive is very important to note,” she advised, turning the sword to and fro beneath the light. “It’s desirable to possess those having a higher rank as serves as a boon to their master’s reputation. So, that means individuals from royalty or nobility, heads of state, or other ruling classes, those with wealth and prestige, defeated leaders of merit from their armies, those with valuable skills or talents…”
Tommy’s cheek twitched as he gnawed at the inner lining, a nasty habit he couldn’t seem to shake and resulted in a flood of coppery-tasting saliva mixed with saliva. He resorted to such behavior when deep in thought, anxious, or preparing to unleash a torrent of rage.
The boy didn’t have to feign interest in this conversation, one he’d gradually been working up to over the past few months, though it was useful to discover certain information that would aid in further developing his ascension into power. He listened intently to Scorpina’s response with wide hazel eyes, his teeth unconsciously worrying faster at the delicate flesh between them.
“Having such powerful captives serving you before your peers is something to take great pride in,” she continued. “Showing them off at grand galas and banquets, seeing your rivals admire them and become envious… It’s almost unheard of to be able to purchase them at any price.”
Tommy was not concerned with parading Jason about, in fact, the Green Ranger didn’t want to share him at all. And he certainly didn’t want Goldar to land a lucky blow and finally claim the other teen’s life. Rita’s reinforcements were nearly ready, and he was running out of time, given that there were no guarantees on the battlefield.
Especially with a fighter as foolishly bullheaded and stubborn as the Red Ranger, who was also a high-level target for any of the fiendish monsters.
Scorpina paused, lifting an arched brow at the child’s captivated face, his eyes scarcely blinking as he drank it all in.
“Why are you so interested in the matter of captives, Tommy? You’re not ready for such a responsibility,” she demanded sternly. “You might be Rita’s Green Ranger but you’re a kid just like the others.”
He flinched slightly at being called out, before giving an indignant retort.
“I’m 17! I’m not a child!”
The woman grinned, crossing her arms over her chest as she studied Tommy’s puffed-up posture.
“Comparatively speaking, you’re an infant,” she advised with a crisp nod. “How do you know how to manage potentially dangerous prisoners? You don’t have the experience or the fearsome reputation to make them behave, to keep them from plotting against you or Rita, to prevent them from escaping… You have no knowledge of how to train one, let alone how to break it down enough to give in and accept its fate.”
Tommy leapt from the crate like an angry feline.
“You have no idea what I know how to do!”
But Scorpina waved him off.
“Easy, Green. Save it for later. Besides, I don’t think you understand how it works,” she giggled. “You don’t just get your pick of the litter. Whether or not to gift a warrior with a captive is at the discretion of their ruler. It’s a badge of honor, a reward for their feats during battle and their accomplishments under their service.”
The teen huffed angrily.
“So, besting the Rangers wouldn’t earn me such a trinket? Not even Goldar has been able to defeat them, and here I am, terrorizing the whole team! I came closer to taking them down before I lost the Sword of Darkness than that overgrown ape ever has!”
Scorpina didn’t take kindly to this human disparaging her mate so rudely. But it got her thinking. She planted her fists on her hips, a knowing look on her face.
“You want one of them, don’t you, kid? A little pet Ranger of your own?” she cooed. “Let me guess… You’re moony-eyed over that perky Pink bitch. Or perhaps Yellow is more appealing to you?”
Now, it all made sense. Human males, especially those in their teens, were overly hormonal and seeking to sow their seed. Tommy wanted to ensure a plaything for his bedchambers…
The Green Ranger stared at her a moment in confusion. And guilt.
Scorpina was only partly correct in her assessment, but he wasn’t about to make any confessions.
“Why do you care?” he sassed. “What if I do want a Ranger for myself? So what? And who are you to say I haven’t earned the right to possess one.”
The smaller warrior shook her head, her long hair brushing her waist.
“Please don’t tell me you’ve made the classic villain mistake and fallen in love with your enemy… Because you can fuck the shit out of either of those bitches then dispose of them. Keeping them as a captive isn’t necessary for that.”
Tommy’s expression was offended, echoes of his deceased drunken ‘father’s’ homophobic ranting whispering through his memory.
“Love? No! It has nothing to do with what I want.”
And he’d meant that when he said it. He started to delve into his desire for ultimate control, to become someone’s entire world, their very life contingent upon his whims, but Scorpina interrupted him.
“Good, child…because what you want doesn’t matter. It’s about our Empress and her desires. That was the choice you made when you returned to her side of your own free will. You don’t get to make decisions or give orders when you’re still wet behind the ears.”
She turned to exit the armory.
“Your loyalty is to Rita, not your grandiose ego. She’s the ruler and you’re not. Remember that…”
Tommy had been incensed…panicked…compulsively rash. He’d cobbled together some half-assed plan to take Jason that very night, to blitz attack him when he exited the Youth Center, to jab his whorish ‘mother’s’ taser into his neck and make him ride the lightning until he was too confused and drooling all over himself to avoid the sturdy zip ties. Then, the Green Ranger had decided he’d shove the jackass into the trunk of his car and drive out to the lakeside cabin his ‘uncle’ kept, one that the teen had broken into a number of times to hide out.
If he just kept Jason there, safely out of battle, drugged up in a fuzzy twilight that rendered him nice and docile…if he pretended as if he knew nothing about the Red Ranger’s unexpected disappearance in the midst of intergalactic war…if he LIED to his Empress about his knowledge of events…and continued to do so for the foreseeable future…
As if Rita couldn’t peer down from her palace as she often did and locate his captive in Tommy’s possession….
The boy shook his head firmly, amazed by his foolishness.
‘No, that would never have worked… My Empress shouldn’t have the need to look for him. He can’t just up and vanish. It will require some sleight of hand…and I know nothing’s certain on the battlefield.’
Tommy risked peeking around the white frame to peer into Jason’s bedroom. His pulse quickened when he saw the Red Ranger’s broad back hunched over as he sat on the side of his bed, his arm lifted to his moving lips.
‘It appears I’ve made my choice. At least in this regard. I can still serve my Empress loyally even if I keep Jason for myself. If I seize his coin, keep him doped up and pliant, he’ll be helpless do anything more than cry for me…bleed for me… Beg me…’
This one little vice of his didn’t mean he was being treasonous. He wasn’t asking for hundreds of captives. Just this one…
The teen smiled.
‘I’ll get to him first, that’s all. Make sure I’m the one who challenges him. Then, when all eyes are busy, he’ll ‘die’ for me.’
