#the runaway series

[mickmathersartblog]

"The Runaway Going Further on Down the Road"

digital collage & digital painting by Mick Mather

(click image to view actual size)

[folie-a-deux]

The wife, was in fact, not aware enough.

[girlsloveupdates]

[lemonboyjosten]

[twolovelyberries]

a man can only have so many issues. it is just a phone.

[thedevilsofcarthya]

love reading the ascendance series when i’m having a bad day cause no matter what kind of day i’m having, jaron is having a worse one

[nickpeppermint]

I know people really REALLY want Mother 1 plushies, and i think Teddy plush would go HARD but

If Runaway Five can make it to become plushies, can we PLEASE also get Tony plush too? 🥺🥺🥺

Jeff plush needs a company, c'mon guys

Also i noticed that all plushies have to come with someone else in a pack, so if this is a requirement, you might as alongside Tony throw Dr Andonuts + Bubble Monkey, and call it "Jeff's faves" special set

[deusvervewrites]

Runaways AU snippet please.

Inko doesn’t know what she’s doing out here, but she’s started going for long walks after the rain. Something about how it makes all the grass and trees greener soothes that deep ache in her heart, even if it’s only a little.

She ignores the distant cheering of some kind of Hero fight. Petrichor, at least, doesn’t remind her of broken promises.

The underpass is quiet. Of course it is. No one has any reason to take this small out-of-the-way path. Not anymore. Not since Izuku graduated from Junior High. This place barely gets any foot traffic at all. So when the manhole cover suddenly turns, it’s impossible to ignore.

Nothing on earth could prepare Inko for the sight of a small girl who couldn’t be older than five climbing up to the surface, turning around, and helping another child up.

“Is anyone nearby?” says the second child, and Inko’s heart stops. No, she must have misheard. Surely.

That denial dies when the second child rises into the light beside the girl. She would know him anywhere. It’s impossible for her not to know him. But it can’t possibly be.

“You live around here?” the girl says. The boy nods.

“Yeah. Remember what I said, though. There’re Heroes around here, so we’ll have to be care…ful…” he trails off as he meets her eyes.

No imposter could ever recreate the exact expression Izuku makes when he knows he’s caught.

[beefycupcakes]

After dark...!

[laracrofted]

❝ like runaway horses, it's a long way back home again when every step is a silver prayer in the face of a hard wind // upcoming rhett abbott x oc fic

across the montana state line; past the cattle ranches and the fenced-in pastures filled with horses; down a rough dirt road that becomes damn near untenable in a good rain storm, winding through fields of wildflowers and sun-bleached brush until the land drops away into wide open skies; is a little house. a half-wild thing.

or a broken-hearted rhett abbott helps luke tillerson's fiancée skip town and over the course of a year, begins again.

[mickmathersartblog]

"The Runaway Nervous in Front of Graffiti"

digital collage & digital painting by Mick Mather

(click image to view actual size)

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #27

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: oral dub-con, implied non-con, starvation, violence

Master and his friends had passed out, finally. After hours and hours of drinking and sex and entertainment, they had fallen asleep. 

It was late, but he couldn’t bring himself to rest. He lay on the floor, naked and cold, dried cum sticky on his sore thighs.

He stared up at the ceiling. His throat hurt, angry bruises blossoming over his skin. One of Master’s friends, Mr. Horneswood, had slammed his head against the floor, and it was only now that his vision had quit fading in and out and his nosebleed had stopped.

Master had never let them be so violent with him before. Beatings and getting choked was nothing new, and Master had chastised them for going too far several times. But not today.

He really thought they were going to kill him this time. He’d never passed out from being strangled before, and they had never hit his head until now, much less slamming it into the hard marble floor. Twice.

Hunger rumbled in his stomach.

He turned his head to see the table. It was half covered in near empty bottles and glasses, but there was food at the end.

He licked his lips. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and if everyone was asleep…

He slowly got up, wincing as he went. Master wouldn’t notice if a few rolls went missing. 

Master had put out so much food, and his friends were more interested in getting drunk, so nearly all of of it was untouched.

He ate cheeses and fruit, pastries and rolls, and even dared to sneak some of the delicious roasted duck.

It wasn’t until he was full, sitting next to the table, that he realized.

Master had forgotten his chains.

Usually Master made sure he was in shackles when his friends came to visit, just to be certain he couldn’t get away from their lust.

Not tonight. Tonight he was unrestrained. He hadn’t even noticed until now.

He looked back at Master and his friends. They were still completely passed out, sprawled out on couches and slumped in armchairs.

He could run. There was nothing stopping him.

Nothing, except… what if Master caught him? He would be so angry. Master would beat him to death if he left.

They’ll kill you if you stay, said a tiny part of him. You know they will. You can’t keep doing this.

He bit his lip. Master was all he knew, his everything. It was the only thing he was good at; serving as his slave was his entire purpose. It was what he was made for.

What else could there possibly be?

You are going to die here.

The tiny part was right.

He grabbed his discarded clothes, tugging on the threadbare shirt, boxers, and pants Master had allowed him. 

He stole a cloak off the coat rack and ran out the front door, pulling the hood over his hair.

He ran, and ran, and ran, and his legs hurt and his head pounded but it was better than death and blood and Master.

___________________

He should have stolen some shoes. He limped along, blood from the pads of his feet staining his trail. 

Dawn had come and gone, but he didn’t stop moving. Couldn’t stop moving.

He avoided the roads, instead sticking to the woods. He couldn’t risk being seen yet. Master had horses, and money, and might pay someone to look for him.

It was a hot day. Sweat dripped down his face and soaked his clothes, the salt stinging the cuts on his legs courtesy of the wilderness.

He tripped over a stone early in the night, and torn a toenail clean off, which hurt like hell.

His legs were sore too, knees on fire and thighs chafing from the dried cum and fabric rubbing the skin. 

Maybe it would be worth it to find some water and rest.

___________________

After hours of trekking through the woods, he heard running water. He picked up the pace, jogging towards the sound.

It was a small creek, secluded and quiet. Good.

He stripped off his clothes and waded in. It was freezing cold, goosebumps forming on his skin. He crouched down and drank some of the water, soothing his dusty throat.

He splashed some of the water on his face, wiping away the sweat. He washed off the best he could, and crawled out of the creek. There was a flat rock nearby, and he laid the cloak down on top of it. 

A few hours of rest couldn’t hurt.

___________________

He followed the creek after his nap. It would get to a river eventually, and maybe lead to a town where he could beg for some scraps.

He should have stolen the rest of the food at Master’s house. Idiot.

The creek did get bigger, but instead of bringing him to a river, it ran by a traveler’s campsite. The road must be close.

The campsite had just been used, fresh but cold ashes in the firepit, and fresh horse manure still buzzing with flies.

There were berry bushes nearby (unfortunately inedible ones), and he was struck with a thought.

His white hair was identifiable. No one had white hair, Master said so. Master said he was so pretty with white hair. It was why he was allowed to exist; it made him good enough to live despite being a stupid slave who couldn’t do things right.

Master could find him if his hair was still white.

He pulled off the berries, crushing them in his hands. He slathered his hair with them, staining the white to brown. Much better. He pulled his hood back up and followed the horse tracks to the road.

___________________

The road led to a city, and he kept his head down passing through the gates. The guards didn’t even look at him.

There was a tavern just next to the gates, and the smell of food made him hesitate. It was a busy place, even had some stables attached.

He bit his lip.

He didn’t have any money. He went around the stables, and there was a dumpster out back. He peered into the trash, but he couldn’t see anything he could eat. Damn.

The back door to the tavern opened, and he backed away. Not fast enough, because the tavern owner spotted him immediately.

He scrambled away, but she grabbed him by the arm.

“What’re you doing?” She growled. “You a nasty little thief?” She shook his arm, and he whimpered, shaking his head.

“I- I was just hungry-”

She let go of him and he stumbled backwards into the ground. “‘M sorry! I just wanted to look in your trash!” He started to cry.

“Hmph.” She crossed her arms, staring him down.

“Please don’t call the guard,” he begged, sobbing. “I’ll go away, I swear.”

“I don’t like beggars,” she said. “So come here.”

She was going to hit him, and he deserved it for bothering her. He shakily got to his feet, and limped forward.

“There’s a pile of dishes in the sink. Scrub ‘em.”

“W-what?”

“You scrub the plates,” she pointed at him, “and you get food. That way you ain’t beggin’.”

“Thank you! Tha-”

“Shut up.” She turned and walked inside, and he followed.

There was in fact a sink piled full of dishes, and he got to work scrubbing them clean. The kitchen was hot, but he didn’t dare take off his cloak. He was so hungry he was lightheaded, and the smell of food was torture to the gnawing ache in his belly.

The dishes kept coming, and he ignored the strange looks from the wait staff.

After a few hours, the tavern owner handed him a package wrapped with paper.

“Get out.”

He left without argument, opening the package and eating as he walked.

The sandwich was the best thing he ever tasted.

___________________

The second town he came across, the innkeeper let him sleep in the stables in exchange for scrubbing stains out of sheets. 

The third city tossed him out before he could offer anything, and he stole some apples from an orchard by the road before getting scared off by barking dogs.

He had a bad feeling about this next town. 

The innkeeper was at the counter, and it was not busy at all. It creeped him out. “How many nights?” asked the keeper, a flat tone to his voice as he scribbled in his ledger.

“I, um. I don’t have any money,” he admitted, “but um, is there anything I can do for you?”

The innkeeper slammed the book shut, and he jumped. The innkeeper looked him up and down, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m just hungry,” he said weakly, “do you have any scraps?”

“Nope. Get out.” 

“Please,” he tried again. “I’ll do anything.”

The innkeeper stood up. “I said leave.” He began to shove him outside, and he stumbled, bare heels digging into the wood.

“I’ll blow you,” he blurted, and the innkeeper paused. He held his breath. Why did he offer that?

The innkeeper grabbed him by the arm, dragging him into the back.

The innkeeper tossed him across the room. He swallowed, his mouth going dry. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The innkeeper stalked forward, and he dropped to his knees, tongue lolling out. The innkeeper unbuckled his belt and he knew what to do.

The innkeeper was rough and impatient, and he let the innkeeper fuck into his throat. He just wanted it over. The man grunted, finishing into his mouth, and he was hungry enough to swallow the cum without hesitation.

“Good enough,” said the man, tucking himself back into his pants, and relief flooded him. “Wait here.”

He got a hunk of cheese and a loaf of bread for the trouble.

“Next time offer your ass,” said the innkeeper with a nasty grin, “and maybe I’ll let you sleep the night.”

He scrambled for the door, laughter trailing behind him. There wasn’t going to be a next time.

___________________

There was a next time.

There were several next times, all of which he tried to avoid but couldn’t if he wanted to eat.

He didn’t sleep in the cities anymore, too scared after someone forced themselves on him while he slept exposed in the stables.

That time, the innkeeper was even angry to find him still in the hay the next morning, and had used a horsewhip to punish and chase him out.

He trudged along the road.

Gods, he was so hungry. He felt faint, a chill to his bones despite the sun beating down on him.

He’d been heading north the whole time, and now the cities and towns were few and far between.

The last stop was pleasant, the woman who owned the lodge only asking him to sweep the floor in exchange for a bowl of chicken and rice.

That was a week ago.

The berry bushes along the road were bare now, the birds plucking them empty. He chewed on tree leaves and ate dandelions when he could, but it did little for his stomach.

Please, he prayed to the gods, I know none of you care, but please.

Maybe he should have stayed with Master.

He shook the thought from his head. Anything was better than Master.

Even if it was starving to death in the wilderness.

___________________

The road became thin and rough. It narrowed down to a single cart wide and he wondered if he had walked to the end. But over the horizon was a blurry shape beneath the setting sun, and he dared to hope it was either a village or that he was finally dying and was hallucinating.

He kept walking.

It was a village, with an inn.

He stumbled through the door as nightfall fell.

The tavernkeeper was at the counter, and there was a small crowd in the dining room.

“Please,” he slurred, ready to offer whatever was left of him.

But the tavernkeeper held up a hand to stop him.

“I’ve heard of you,” he said, and his heart sank. Did Master know too? “You’ll do anything for a meal and a bed for the night, right?”

Not necessarily a bed, but he nodded, the effort making his head pound. 

“I want a private conversation with you in the morning,” said the keeper, his expression hard to read. “That’s all. I'll even throw in breakfast afterwards.”

He stared at the tavern keeper.

“Yes, sir,” he rasped. No one had ever offered him breakfast. Was it a trick? Too keep him here longer, so that Master would come and drag him away?

The keeper gestured for him to sit at the bar, and disappeared into the kitchen.

He returned quickly with a bowl of stew and a crust of bread, and, of all things, a mug of warm cider. 

He never had cider before. Master never allowed him to drink.

The tavern keeper told him where his room (a whole room? with a bed? and a lock?) was, and left him alone to eat.

The food was amazing, and he had to stop himself from scarfing it down and making himself sick. He’d made that mistake before, and completely lost his meal. He remembered crying over the vomit.

The bed was just as good as the food, but he couldn’t close his eyes.

What if the innkeeper told Master where he was? How long would it take Master to come for him?

He rolled over in the bed.

Surely the tavernkeeper wanted more than just talking.

If he were smart, he’d sneak out before dawn. But the keeper promised breakfast, and he wasn’t smart.

He couldn’t pass up two meals in a row. It was too tempting.

He thought about the mysterious generosity of the cider, and the sweet taste of the apples used to make it.

This could be his last night alive before he died by his Master’s hands.

He cried himself into a fitful sleep.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone @snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @magdalena-writes @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut @whumpsoda @loserwithsyle

[percable]

The runaway trio

[prettygirl-gabi]

Breaking Free

---

---

Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, slight (very light) angst, happy ending

Category:F/M

Fandom:Seventeen (SVT)  (boyband)

Relationships: !non-idol Seungkwan x !Runaway bride f reader

Summary: When the reader flees her wedding, Seungkwan steps in as her unexpected ally, guiding her through a whirlwind escape that sparks new possibilities and unexpected feelings.

Trope : Runaway bride

---

Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the eleventh installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

---

I sat in the backseat of a speeding cab, the city lights blurring through the rain-streaked windows. My phone vibrated nonstop, but I couldn’t bring myself to look. I already knew what the messages would say. They would be from my parents, angry and disappointed. From my fiancé, demanding answers, his words cutting even through a screen. From everyone I left behind, wondering why the perfect bride-to-be had suddenly disappeared.

I hadn’t planned for it to be this way. The wedding was in two days, and I had been walking around in a daze, going through the motions. The dress was ready, the flowers picked, the venue a beautiful testament to a future I never asked for.

And then I ran.

The car jolted to a stop outside a small apartment building on the quieter side of town. I hurriedly paid the driver and stepped out into the cool night, my breath catching in my throat as I stood in front of the familiar door. I knocked, my knuckles barely grazing the wood, but within seconds, the door flew open.

There he was. Seungkwan.

He stood there in sweatpants, his hair disheveled, clearly not expecting anyone at this hour. His eyes widened as he saw me, drenched from the rain, my wedding ring still gleaming on my finger.

"Y/N?" His voice was a mix of shock and concern. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

I couldn’t speak. The words were stuck in my throat, and I felt the overwhelming weight of everything I had done. I thought I’d feel liberated, but all I felt was fear. Seungkwan stepped forward, taking my hand and gently pulling me inside.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay," he said softly, closing the door behind us. "Come on, sit down."

I collapsed onto his couch, my body shaking from the cold, the adrenaline, and the uncertainty of it all. He quickly grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around me before sitting beside me, his eyes searching my face.

"What happened?" he asked again, his voice softer this time. "Did something happen with the wedding?"

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. My voice barely a whisper, I said, "I couldn’t do it, Seungkwan. I couldn’t marry him."

He didn’t say anything for a moment. He simply waited, giving me the space I needed to explain, to let it all out.

"I never wanted this," I continued, the words spilling out of me in a rush. "It wasn’t my choice. My parents… they’ve been pushing this on me for months. They think it’s the right thing, that it’s what I’m supposed to do. But I don’t love him. I don’t even know him, not really. And tonight… I just… I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t go through with it."

Seungkwan’s hand found mine, his thumb gently brushing over my knuckles. "You’re safe now," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that immediately made me feel grounded. "You did the right thing. If you didn’t want to marry him, you had every right to walk away."

"But what if I made a mistake?" I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. "What if I ruined everything? My parents will never forgive me. They’ll hate me for this."

"They won’t hate you," Seungkwan said firmly, squeezing my hand. "They might be upset right now, but you can’t live your life for them. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to make your own choices."

I looked at him, his face so full of sincerity that for the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope. He had always been there, quietly supporting me in ways I didn’t fully understand until now. Whenever things got too hard or overwhelming, it was Seungkwan I called. He was the one person who never pressured me, never tried to control me.

"I don’t know what to do now," I admitted, my voice trembling. "I don’t even know where to go."

Seungkwan smiled, a soft, understanding smile that made my heart ache in a way I couldn’t describe. "You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. For now, just stay here. We’ll figure it out together, okay?"

I nodded, my shoulders finally relaxing a little. "Thank you," I murmured. "I didn’t know where else to go."

"You don’t have to thank me," he replied, his hand still holding mine. "I’m just glad you came here. I’m glad you trusted me."

We sat there in silence for a while, the storm outside fading into the background. Seungkwan didn’t push me to talk more, didn’t try to fix everything in that moment. He simply let me be, offering his quiet support.

Eventually, he stood up, giving me a small, reassuring smile. "I’ll make us some tea," he said. "You should change out of those wet clothes. I’ll get you something comfortable."

As I watched him move around the apartment, I felt a strange sense of calm settle over me. It was the first time in a long time that I didn’t feel the crushing weight of expectation. Here, in this small, cluttered apartment, with Seungkwan’s quiet, unwavering presence, I felt… safe. I felt like I could breathe.

When he returned, he handed me a pair of his oversized sweatpants and a hoodie. "It’s not much, but it’s comfortable," he said with a sheepish smile. "The bathroom’s down the hall."

I changed quickly, the warmth of the clothes enveloping me like a much-needed hug. When I returned to the living room, Seungkwan had set two steaming mugs of tea on the table. He sat cross-legged on the couch, patting the spot beside him.

I sat down, wrapping my hands around the mug and savoring the warmth. We sipped in comfortable silence for a while, the tension between us easing with every passing minute.

"Seungkwan," I said after a while, my voice soft. "I don’t think I ever told you how much you mean to me. You’ve always been there, and I… I don’t know what I would’ve done without you tonight."

He looked at me, his eyes reflecting something I hadn’t noticed before. There was something deeper there, something unspoken between us that I had been too afraid to acknowledge.

"You don’t have to say anything," he said quietly, setting his mug down and turning to face me. "I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Whether it’s as your friend or…"

He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor. My heart skipped a beat, and suddenly, everything felt different. The air between us crackled with something new, something that had been there all along but had only just come into focus.

I swallowed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Or?"

Seungkwan hesitated for a moment, then looked up at me, his eyes full of vulnerability. "Or something more," he finished softly.

My breath caught in my throat. There it was, the thing I had been running from just as much as the wedding. The truth of it all. The real reason I had come here, the real reason I had trusted Seungkwan with everything.

"I think…" I started, my voice trembling, "I think I’ve always felt that way too."

His eyes widened, and for a moment, neither of us moved. But then, slowly, Seungkwan reached out and took my hand in his again, his fingers lacing through mine.

"You don’t have to decide anything tonight," he said softly. "But just know, I’m here. No matter what happens next."

I smiled, feeling the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t afraid of what came next.

Because I wasn’t alone. I had Seungkwan. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to start again.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

            ‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                          -prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[lands-of-fantasy]

Modern Marvel Television

(Nearly all) Live-action series from 2000-present (2024)

ABC SERIES

MCU-Complementary: These series expand the MCU narrative.

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (2013-20)

Agent Carter (2015-16)

Other

Inhumans (2017)

NETFLIX/THE DEFENDERS*: These series share continuity.

Daredevil (2015-18)

Jessica Jones (2015-19)

Luke Cage (2016–18)

Iron Fist (2017–18)

The Defenders (2017) | The series is important for both Daredevil and Iron Fist storylines, and also deals with a Luke Cage plotpoint.

The Punisher (2017–19) | Protagonist Frank Castle made his debut in Daredevil Season 2, but he is not featured in The Defenders.

MUTANTS: Independent X-Men-related series.

Legion (2017–19)

The Gifted (2017–19)

YOUNG ADULT SERIES*: Mostly separate but Cloak and Dagger make an apparition on Runaways' Season 3.

Runaways (2017–19)

Cloak & Dagger (2018–19) | The series makes direct references to Netflix's Luke Cage.

MARVEL STUDIOS SERIES: Take place in the MCU.

Starring characters previously introduced in the movies:

Wandavision (2021)

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)

Loki (2021-23?)

Hawkeye (2021)

Secret Invasion (2023)

Starring new characters:

Moon Knight (2022-)

Ms. Marvel (2022-)

She Hulk (2022-)

Echo (2024-) | Protagonist Maya Lopez made her debut in the MCU in the Hawkeye show, but it's possible to watch one without the other.

_____

*P.S.: The YA series technically take place in the MCU but are as good as independent from it. The same goes for Netflix's shows, though they might still become an effective part of it. This will likely be defined in the upcoming MCU series Daredevil: Born Again.

See also: DCTV

[thebatrodenused]

"I dont lie, i *flip the truth*"

"Jaron. Thats lying" - Tobias