#THE CASE IS I HAVE NEVER MOVED ON FROM THIS GAME

[rockscanfly]

Noshir Dalal's (Charles Smith's VA and the man who largely shaped Charles into the singular character that he is, found here on tumblr @noshirdalal and on Cameo [in case you have your own questions you'd like answered]) beautiful response to my cameo prompt:

Q: You’ve mentioned before that Charles likes to read. What is his favorite book? Also, you’ve talked some about cowboy poetry and how you think it’s something Charles might have connected to. Can we get a favorite poem of his in his voice?

Besides the fact that this reading of "The Men That Don't Fit In" was just plain fantastic and moving as all get out, I really admire Noshir's choice of poem.

Similar to the poem’s author and his simultaneous celebration and castigation of the prototypical outlaw, Charles always came off to me as someone who loves his fellow gang members deeply but who didn't share their illusions about themselves or how they function within the larger context of the world around them.

Charles makes several remarks throughout the game ('Unpleasant? How do you rob and kill people pleasantly?' 'All this death and for what? Just so we can have enough money to be able to run from what we've done?' 'The amount of hell we raised, we’re owed some back') that indicate a high level of self-awareness about what it is the gang ACTUALLY does and how they're perceived by the outside world. 

Arthur makes some gestures at this understanding throughout the game, but his moral musings are undercut by his inability to stand his ground against Dutch throughout the numerous acts of outright cruelty his found-father perpetuates in Chapters 4-6 (Arthur barks, but he never bites).

Arthur and John have their gripes and moans, but ultimately the two of them stick it out until the bloody end. Charles is the first person to really break free of the fate the gang is hurtling towards.

In a tragedy built on the back of it's main cast's inability to cope with a changing world, Charles is arguably the character who exerts the most agency. He makes the decision in Chapter 6--when the circumstances that once tied him to the gang have dramatically altered--to cut loose.

Because of this choice, he lives.

To me, at least, this poem--and Noshir's brilliant delivery--isn't about Charles himself. Or at least not just about himself.

Its him talking about the Van der Linde gang. Arthur and John, his second family. Wild, brilliant, bold, true, free--and gone. With nothing but graves to show for the lives they lived.

Charles isn't reciting a poem--he's reciting a eulogy.

Transcript:

Hey Rocks. Um, thank you for your patience with all of this. 

Yeah, so we know that Charles reads and I know that we’ve talked before about a scene that apparently didn’t make it into the game, where after Charles’ interaction with Micah—and you know, yeeting him across the camp—Arthur comes upon him reading a book. 

That uh, that scene affected me in a major way and I think it's probably the reason I portray Charles the way I do. 

A guy who can physically manhandle pretty much anyone at camp having the mental and emotional maturity and self-regulation—if you can’t tell I’m a new dad [laughs]—to find a way to deal with his anger that doesn’t involve acting out and breaking stuff? 

Told me a tremendous amount about Charles, especially because what I’d been introduced to was the idea that Charles was a really violent, really angry maniac. 

And I love the idea that he’s really into poetry. I like poetry a lot. Actually when I was working on that latest skin for Yone (spl?) for League of Legends, I learned from the writing team that cowboy poetry is, like, a thing. 

And so I decided to look some up. And I like to think that maybe that this is a poem that Charles would have had in that book he was reading. 

The poem is called “The Men That Don’t Fit In” by Robert W. Service. Fitting, I think, especially for Charles for a number of reasons. I hope you like it. 

[Noshir goes into Charles’ voice and recites below poem by Robert W. Service (British-born Canadian Poet, 1874-1958), published in his book Songs of the Yukon (1907)]

There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain’s crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don’t know how to rest. If they just went straight they might go far; They are strong and brave and true; But they’re always tired of the things that are, And they want the strange and new. They say: “Could I find my proper groove, What a deep mark I would make!” So they chop and change, and each fresh move Is only a fresh mistake. And each forgets, as he strips and runs With a brilliant, fitful pace, It’s the steady, quiet, plodding ones Who win in the lifelong race. And each forgets that his youth has fled, Forgets that his prime is past, Till he stands one day, with a hope that’s dead, In the glare of the truth at last. He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance; He has just done things by half. Life’s been a jolly good joke on him, And now is the time to laugh. Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost; He was never meant to win; He’s a rolling stone, and it’s bred in the bone; He’s a man who won’t fit in.

[npookie0]

NATHAN, my king- you've broken my heart so much with the 'gone without a trace' headcanons and my dude... I've gotta ask this to save my fragile aorta- could we maybe get some headcanons of the Lis finally finding they're partners after so long? Like they find a single clue that Leads them to their Partner's trail.

Please and thank you, love your work also you dropped this -> 👑

A Trace Found

Headcanons for Killer Chat! love interests x mc who they found after they (mc) went missing

have your free therapy gays

Finding a clue about your whereabouts :

Ronin

When he found that clue, that one little piece of information he needed, Ronin through that he went completely insane, like he's actually lost it and his mind was playing tricks on him. "No fucking way it's real... after so long and I find it now? Fuckin' hell, you're playing tricks on me now aren't ya?" To Ronin it would also feel like God has challenged him, like he was the one to take you from your murderous lover and now he's throwing him a bone after so long.

Angel

For Angel it was like regaining hope, the light returned to her eyes and she wasn't going to give up now. She held onto that hint and shook up all of her contacts to get all knowledge she could.

Misaki

For them it was like a newfound will to live. It was a hint on your location, they weren't crazy, they didn't make you up with their crazy mind. Misaki was going to pour her whole heart into finding you, use any means necessary to get to you and tell you how much she missed you and ask you why, why would you leave so suddenly and not tell her.

V

In the moment V saw the clue on where you could be, he moved all of his sources and informants, threw money at them and follow with his own investigation. He has to find you, he has to see you and make sure that you're safe.

Finding you :

Ronin

He stood still the moment he saw your face, then he started laughing, a shaken sound mixed with some barely hearable sobs. "So this is where you were! Wow, darlin', you overdid yourself." He grabbed you by your hand and pulled you closer, buried his face in the crook of your neck. "You played your game well, took me a while to get to ya."

He felt desperate, starved for your presence. He felt somewhat panicked, scared that he fucked up to a point of you escaping and erasing every sign of yourself.

He brought you back with you and for a week he didn't lose the sight of you, he didn't want to lose you for the second time, he didn't want to lose another partner.

Angel

She broke down completely, ran to you and cried while holding you tightly. Finally you're back with her. She never felt more relieved in her life, or at least that's how she felt in that moment. "I... I'm sorry for whatever I did, but please, never do that again."

She blamed herself for your disappearance, like it was her fault for you leaving. It was normal for Maria to throw all blame at her even if it was clearly not her fault.

She would check up on you daily, ask you for calls and meet ups at her place, sometimes she'd come to you herself, she just needed to see you and know that you're there.

Misaki

"No fucking way." She dropped to her knees in front of you, wrapped their arms around you and just held on. There was sobbing and bunch of questions, but they honestly didn't want to hear the answers, they just needed to hold you for a while longer.

They asked you if it's something they did, if you left because of her. She'd think that she disappointed you or that you were afraid of them because of their job as an assassin.

They'd stick around for a while, trying to not show their anxiety at the idea of you leaving again. She would calm down after a while, but still would text you even more often that before you were gone just in case.

V

He held your face between his hands, standing still and stiff in front of you. His eyes were travelling over your whole form, he couldn't form any words, he just looked at you and tried to understand the situation. "It... it really is you, my love."

He'd question you about the reasons behind your disappearance. He would feel differently depending on your answers, but the feeling of heartbreak would be the same no matter of your words and reasons. His whole world was ruined when every trace of you was gone and he will let it show.

Maybe he wouldn't cage you or put security all around your house to watch you, but Valentin would keep close to you and spend time with you, even his vigilante work could be pushed back just so he could get used to having you around again. All he needed was time to heal after losing you.

They found you yay

I hope it's happy ending enough <3

[kerryshifts]

My record is 32 minutes WITHOUT moving, I'd say it's pretty impressive, with moving 42. But hey, I low-key need to know what am I doing wrong, I'm not expecting you to know but maybe you have some tips or reasons why I haven't shifted yet? Though I know I'm there not like my awareness but a body???

hold on. okay. my name is doctor kerry and i need to do a lobotomy to you. serious case here guys…………

shifting is a fancy word and another way of calling your awareness of reality. you can be in a reality different from this one and switch your 3D, aka the five senses. like a radio. is nothing glamorous or whimsical. you can decide where your awareness, the knowledge or perception of a situation or a fact, is. soooo now that we got what shifting is:

1. moving or not moving means NOTHING. also the time you put in your shifting attempt means NOTHING. you don’t have to lay down in your bed in a starfish position and act like a statue. why are you timing it? this is not formula 1. the only thing that is making you do is spirale & go insane. we don’t want that. right???

2. methods DO NOT make you shift, they are just tools that you can or can not use. they are not mandatory!!!!!people can shift in five minutes or while dancing, while sneezing, anything can work. my dad didn’t even knew about shifting and still shifted. i was listening to music and i was suddenly in my dr bedroom not even thinking about shifting. @nab3rries was in the toilet (this is your dinasty now girl love u) and then she was in her dr bedroom. and you know why it’s like this? because you are the one shifting. not the methods, not the time, not the subliminals, not the guided meditations. its you. stop focusing on the technique. it means nothing.

shifting is a long process ONLY if you make it to be. you are the creator of your reality, and this means that you can decide what shifting is for you. for some, it’s instant: one second they are here, the next they are there. for others it’s a doctor strange type shit thing. seconds do not matter. minutes are pointless, because time doesn’t exist. why? easy! shifting. now it’s may 11, 2025 and, for me, the next moment is august 14, 1974. the concept of time its just pointless.

some tips: i recommend reading this first. understand what shifting is and do not make your life complicated by…..monitoring your shifting attempts as if you are a guy in squid game with a gun held against your head. let’s chill a little bit. ommmmmmm 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️ right???

right. then, do not make it stressful. pls. you sound already stressed. do not add this into your stressing schedule.

you know you are in your dr, right? perfect!!!!!!! you shifted. your awareness now is catching up with your thoughts….because guess? you guessed? yeah, your thoughts shape reality. yup. boooooom. CINEMA [insert martin scorsese meme]. your subconscious doesn’t have eyes and doesn’t distinguish things with ‘real’ or ‘not real’.

for example,,,, here’s how i manifested long hair. i do have eyes, yes, but my subconscious doesn’t. my thoughts shape reality. so, i just said to my subconscious ‘hey subconscious, look at those long wavy hair damnnn i look like a mermaid!’ and my hair went from straight ugly short to long wavy medieval princess hair. like. my hair NEVER grew past my chest….. so i changed that. easy. i just PERSISTED.

4. you can shift whatsoever. there’s no right or wrong way to do it.

[clouduru-chan]

I've been crying for half an hour because I was playing Signalis.

And my friends. What a wonderful game, I didn't understand anything at first, but the feeling and love between Eslter and Ariane moved me so much.

And that gave me a fanfic idea.

I've already created the idea a little in my head, but I wanted to know if you would like something like this.

Reader was a human who had the power of photographic memory, she never forgot anything since her birth. She lived with her mother who was a depressed woman who had lost her husband in a conflict with a super villain (her father worked as one of Cicel's soldiers), and with depression and overprotection, she didn't let her daughter leave the house, her education was all at home until she was thirteen. Reader was living well, she loved music and art, and loved her mother's company. But her aunt (her mother's brother), is a damn Karen.

Who kept calling the Office of Children's Issues saying that her niece was living in terrible conditions and was stuck at home. The Office of Children's Issues went to check the complaint, and upon seeing the case, they thought it was right to take the daughter from her mother's house to do a more in-depth investigation, but one day without her daughter, Reader's mother commits something against one's own life, which forces the girl to live with her bitch aunt (by the way, her aunt wanted to have children, but couldn't because she was infertile, so she was jealous of her own sister, and now she has to take care of her niece).

Reader is forced to study at public school, she is bullied because she has never interacted with another child in her life and others think she is weird.

At school she meets Mark, who defends her from bullying (this is before he has super powers) and he becomes her great and first friend, she starts to like comics because of him.

She also befriends William, and as they strengthen their friendship, Mark makes her promise that she will always be with him no matter the situation. They grow up, Mark gained his powers at 17, and asks Reader to be his girlfriend, and they are planning to go to college together (she wanted to study arts or even history of literature, but her aunt forced her to study medicine, and since she is a submissive person, she accepts to go to the college of her aunt's choice).

And also the aunt wouldn't finance the college either, and you who didn't even have much money to finance your own college, and also didn't usually tell your problems to Mark and his friends. Reader finds Cicel and asks if he has a job for her (since her father worked for the government, she thought she could work too), and since Cicel was a friend of her father, he hires her, and she works on simple things, cleaning up brutal crimes caused by captured villains, and until she has proper training (which she learns quickly because of her ease of learning because of her memory).

The government begins a new experiment to collect memories from soldiers, and Reader joins the project because she would earn more money to pay for all her college tuition.

Mark finds out that she works with Cicel and what she has already done, he is disappointed and breaks up with her, saying that she deceived him (even though the idiot never told her that he was the invincible one). She is devastated, but continues her work, until the tragic day of her death, when she was removing all the government people from the house in front of Mark's house, since Omni Man had discovered the place and was killing everyone, and she ends up dying in the worst possible way.

After the Chicago disaster and a month passes, Mark doesn't see Reader at school or even after starting college, he believes that she abandoned everything and just works for the government now. He starts dating Amber and tries to do everything he can to be a good hero.

The project in which the reader participated began using her memories, since she had a knack for learning quickly, and they created an Android with a similar appearance to her, to solve any type of problem until the heroes arrived. The initiative of this project was to reduce the losses of human soldiers in conflicts.

And the Pentagon staff and Cicel call her Krähe (which is crow in German), she works well in a team, helps humans and has not shown any irregularities until the day she started working.

The soldiers don't like her, because they believe she will take their jobs away.

And the story would consist of a psychological horror.

I really liked the story of Signalis, and I thought about using a bit of the game's idea for a sad story with Mark. If you like it, I'll work on the story better, it's just a draft of what I'm thinking of doing.

[uwuyangeppie]

hiii!! so i had this question for a while now: how would yan!geppie work with a male!darling? like, he can’t baby trap him…the darling probablyyy can stand his own ground so geppie cant exactly delude himself either…unless the darling is frail or smth so like….yeah…….. would love to hear your thoughts!!

hi!! generally i work on the assumption that even if you are male he manages to babytrap you anyway LOL mpreg. (his talent is unyielding will after all so if he has enough determination who or what can stop him? and it is a fantasy game after all, so-)

but,

on the assumption that he can’t…

lowkey i really don’t think it matters how strong you are, because objectively he’s just incredible physically. he’s very strong from fighting on the front line for so many years and he has no business being that agile.

he’s wearing armour for god’s sake. why is he able to outrun some of the characters. that’s also not counting how ridiculous it is for him to be able to swing that instrument case so easily?!

and of course, because it makes the most sense really, gepard is going to kidnap you at night. he’ll manage to get the jump on you, because generally that’s how kidnappings work. you never stood a chance.

depending on how much you manage to fight back, though, he might feel a bit of pride. his darling is so strong! not strong enough though, so it’s cute too! a shame nobody’s here to see how impressive you are, but he is. and really, he’s the only person that matters.

he should be the only person that matters to you anyway!

now because your request specified no mpreg (lol), there’s one more way he’d manage to trap you into being with him, and great news- it also involves breaking the law!

he has a lot of authority. not as much as bronya (thank god to be honest), but if he wants to go rifling through old documents searching for a signature or two, nobody’s going to suspect much, especially if he comes up with an excuse. he might take one or two of these papers with signatures to his desk and trace them secretly.

but don’t be worried, he always returns them!

not the traces, of course, but really, what could he do with those?

he takes them home and a suspicious set of papers that he doesn’t show you, determined to keep this particular secret to himself. and he practices and practices writing out this new signature until he can do it smoothly in one go and hands in those lovely papers to bronya.

congratulations, MC landau!

even if you manage to make it out of his clutches through some sheer miracle, gepard plays the citizens of belobog like a fiddle. you’re gepard’s husband! why aren’t you living with him? what, are you afraid or something? gepard’s a hero, not a villain!

in a gentle voice, he says: i don’t want to push them into living with me. not until they’re ready.

you might believe it if he hadn’t kidnapped you to begin with.

some people mean well and try to convince you that moving in with gepard is a good idea. some people mean the complete opposite of well and insult you for wanting your space. why get married if you don’t want to live with him?! there are many other people who’d be happy to take your place!

at the moment, those people are a means to an end, but once he has you back in his arms…

social pressure and those damned marriage papers begin to turn into silent discrimination and dirty looks. the landau siblings are generally quite nice, but have well and truly turned their back on you. living is more expensive and serval refuses to fix your heater when it breaks.

oh, but he always looks at you so kindly and warmly.

your house is freezing. your stomach growls. you’ve been ill and injured and taken forever to heal; you’re on the brink of losing your job, you know. your boss is looking hard for an excuse to fire you. too many things are breaking in your house and it’s impossible to have them repaired.

you see him in the centre of town one day, back from the front line. people begin to whisper as you approach.

he looks at you with sickly love in his eyes, and what might be a genuine smile on his face. you’re scared to decipher it. you’re too scared to even look at him properly as you hug him. you can’t look at the crowds. can’t look at him. you close your eyes and are met with his voice.

his hot breath up against your ear, the words appearing in your mind and his arms tightening around your body:

i knew you’d come back to me, darling.

[elegyofthemoon]

no one asked but the music in argenti's quest was driving insane for a while and i was wondering why only to realize that they both sound very ff13-esque.

"Cosmic Sacrifice for Love" sounds like "Giant's Fist" by Naoshi Mizuta

"A Gentleman's Fantasy"... I can't even pinpoint exactly which Masashi Hamauzu song it sounds like BUT IT USES A LOT OF SIMILAR HAMAUZU MOTIFS AND ITS REALLY GOOD LMAO just like listen to "Blinded by Light" :)

[darabeatha]

ㅤThen I heard your heart beating.ㅤ You were in the darkness too.ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ... So I stayed in the darkness with you.

[always-a-joyful-note]

I think the reason I like the 5 Eccentrics so much is that it's just such a good depiction of the….variety of friendship. Because it was a group literally created to be destroyed. It was, in other words, a forced union of 5 people who might have never or barely interacted. Yet even with that, even knowing that, they all chose to have a meaningful friendship with each other - they chose to be friends and remain friends even if their union was forced, even if the very reason that they met was to be taken down. It's almost the arranged marriage trope but it wouldn't work as well like marriage because it really isn't that. It's like the family system (brought together by chance and a common identity) but it's still different. Because they didn't HAVE to be friends even if sharing the same label, because they didn't have to keep sticking around each other and become a real family. They chose to be friends in spite of all odds, chose to be grateful even amidst their destruction, and forged a precious bond that not even their predetermined fall could break and in this essay I will -

[claitea]

finished the dlc! enjoyed it a lot :D

[kkusuka]

more roommate simon!

i love the idea that simon thinks he's super open and available with his emotions and reader thinking he's really cold and disinterested. is he ooc? yeah. do i care? no. if you want cannon ghost, play the game!

simon riley doesn't know when you became so important to him.

the only reason he even put out the ad for a roommate was because his landlord though he'd moved out while he was away and he'd rather have some bird in his place than deal with that again.

you were just so easy; showing up to the coffee shop (where you requested to have your first meeting just in case he was some crazy murderer) face flushed, strands of hair all over the place, and sweater a mess; rushing to explain how you got sprayed by a sprinkler on your walk over then chased by a dog. and just as you repeat sorry for the 30th time simon thinks he's in love. you're officially his roommate 30 minutes later.

but it's so out of character for him. he hasn't been around anything other than hard ass military men since he was a teenager. fuck, he's killed hundreds of men in his line of work, tortured thousands more. (he doesn't like to think that that's why he's so drawn to you. that you're so different from who he has to be, someone he's been for so long, that being around you lets him breathe. that he feels like he can actually sit and enjoy his moments away from the field in your tiny manchester apartment.)

he thinks it actually started with the decorations.

the small trinkets you let around the common spaces when he was away. it starts with your room obviously; fairy lights above your bed that spills light into the hallway when he comes home in the early morning hours, paintings on the wall that eventually flow over into the living room, the small plants in your window sill that you ask him to water one day after you leave for work.

then the dinner table suddenly has checkerboard placemats and a vase of flowers that change with the season. and his run-down couch has decorative pillows and a throw blanket (both words he learned from you when he questions what the fuck is on his couch). then the bathroom in the hallway gets a new soap stand, and a mat is placed at your front door, next to the shoe organizer and coat rack.

so he starts buying things too; the penguin plushie in the supermarket window, the vase that matches the curtains in the living room, and a small skull magnet to rest on the face of your fridge.

and before simon knows it his dreary, cold apartment actually looks lived in. and instead of coming home to a dark hallway and an empty fridge, your flower lamp is on, some random show from the 90s is playing, and there's food on the table.

he gets to know you more than he thought he would; he knows what foods you don't like, the books you're reading and the ones you refuse to read again, and even that dick from work he promises to take care of if he bothers you again (it's evident that you think it's a joke and not something that he would genuinely do but simon doesn't think he's ever been more serious).

but he never lets you know too much about him, you don't need to know about it and the less you find out the better.

then came dinners, actual dinner not just him showing up while you already had food ready. you would ask if he wanted whatever you had made ( 'i'm already making food and i normally don't eat is all anyway, so i might as well share' ). so suddenly he was spending his nights at your table with a homecooked meal and simon doesn't think he could ever let this go.

then he gets sent away again, for way longer this time. he makes sure to update his paperwork, changes his emergency contact, your name swirled onto the spouse line. you were probably as close as he'll ever get to one and if you're there they'll tell you if anything happens to him faster. he doesn't want to think of how nice your first name looks with his last name. and you'll probably never even know, simon's never gotten that injured before and he doesn't plan on it now.

months in the heat of the middle east return him to hard shell of a man he was. coming home caked in dirt, blood speckled on his clothes; he doesn't want you to see him like this, he doesn't want you to know this version of him. and for the first time he regrets letting you come into his life.

you are home when he gets back, 2:30 in the morning and every light is off, he opens your door to make sure. you're asleep, not shocking, cuddled into the giant octopus you won at an arcade. he tries not to move, he just wants to look at you for a little bit.

he wakes up the next morning to breakfast and a new pair of combat boots. he's only home for a week this time, not that he's ever home for longer than a month, and he tries to soak up all of your time. you complain about your car, he's on it. the heater started being testy, that's fine he'll take care of it. he's going grocery shopping with you, he watching that weird hospital show, and he enjoys his time in domestic bliss before getting thrown back into some random country.

somehow that all led him here. laying in a hospital bed with two bullets lodged in his shoulder with you sitting in some shitty chair pulled as close to the bed as you could.

"so uh, i'm mrs. riley now?"

"yeah, ya are. 'av been for a while."

[iydiamartinx]

UNEXPECTED GUESTS II

jason x reader, platonic!damian wayne

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto& @omi-resources word count: 857 synopsis: Jason’s secret relationship is discovered by Damian—who keeps showing up uninvited. Jason’s patience is tested, popcorn is made, but at least Damian brought cinnamon rolls. a/n: y’all I’m still new to posting on tumblr, idk how to respond to your reblogs, but thank you for all the love!!

It started with a puzzle.

Then it became a movie.

Then it was breakfast.

Then game night.

You weren’t exactly sure how it happened, but somewhere between Damian’s first drop-in and now, he had quietly and confidently moved in emotionally. No key, no warning—just a kid who appeared at your door like a stray cat who decided you were his human now.

Jason was not amused.

“Babe,” he muttered one night, standing in the kitchen with a towel slung over his shoulder, “I think he lives here now.”

You didn’t even look up from where you and Damian were halfway through a Harry Potter movie marathon. “He brought cinnamon rolls. That buys him, like, three hours.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “That’s what you said yesterday.”

“And yet here we are. With cinnamon rolls.”

Damian didn’t even glance away from the TV. “You’re welcome.”

It didn’t stop.

Damian started showing up with snacks. Then books. Then a bonsai tree that he insisted would bring “calming energy” to the apartment—though Jason was convinced it was a surveillance device.

The turning point was when Jason came home from patrol to find you and Damian doing face masks while bickering over whether Batman could take John Wick in a fight, without prep time.

“I hate it here,” Jason muttered, dropping onto the couch like gravity had personally wronged him.

“No, you don’t,” you said, patting the spot beside you.

Damian looked smug. “You should exfoliate more. Your skin is tired.”

Jason looked like he aged five years on the spot.

Meanwhile, across Gotham, the rest of the Bat-family had questions.

“He skipped patrol again,” Tim muttered, narrowing his eyes at the tracker on his screen. “He’s somewhere in Crime Alley, but he’s not moving. That’s not like him.”

“He’s not fighting crime?” Dick asked, frowning as he squinted at the grainy feed Tim managed to pull from one of Gotham’s ancient surveillance cameras. “Is he injured?”

“No,” Tim said, zooming in. “I think he’s… playing Monopoly?”

Dick raised an incredulous eyebrow. “He’s doing what?” 

Tim leaned closer. “Wait—never mind. That might be a bomb.”

“I’m following him tonight,” Tim declared. “See what he’s hiding.”

“I’m going with you,” Dick said. “Damage control. Just in case he really has joined a criminal syndicate without telling Bruce.”

That night, they tailed Damian across rooftops, watching as he made his usual unannounced entrance into Jason’s apartment through the fire escape like it was a routine—and it was. By now, you’d already prepped hot cocoa, and a blanket was folded on the couch just for him.

Jason wasn’t home yet. Which meant Damian had free reign.

When Tim and Dick peered through the neighboring rooftop window, they expected secrets. Schematics. Maybe even an underground lab.

What they found was you and Damian arguing about whether waffles or pancakes were the superior breakfast food while watching John Wick in an aggressively cozy blanket fort.

Tim blinked. “Is that a fort?”

“Oh my god,” Dick whispered. “He has a fort buddy.”

Jason returned an hour later, tired, sweaty, and one patrol away from an identity crisis. 

He prayed Damian was gone so he could finally have some alone time with you. Every time he tried to initiate anything romantic, the little demon just happened to be there—coincidentally, of course.

But what awaited him was somehow worse.

The moment he stepped inside, he froze.

Dick and Tim were seated at your kitchen table, sipping cocoa. Damian was calmly painting from he sat beside you, and you looked like you were completely unfazed by the three vigilantes in your living room.

“Don’t say it,” Jason groaned, setting his helmet down.

“We followed Damian,” Dick grinned. “Turns out he’s been living a double life.”

Tim nodded solemnly. “I think he’s cheating on us.”

Jason dragged a hand down his face. “Of course you idiots followed him.”

“Her cooking is nearly on par with Pennyworth’s,” Damian said casually, not looking up from his brushwork. “And she doesn’t interrupt me when I’m watching Lord of the Rings.”

Dick raised a brow. “Lord of the Rings?”

“It’s a cinematic masterpiece,” you replied without missing a beat and Dick didn’t question it. 

“We just wanted to meet the person responsible for his personality transplant,” Dick said with a teasing smile. “He’s been nice lately. It’s suspicious.”

You shrugged. “We made a deal. He’s nice to everyone else, and I let him pick Friday night movies.”

Tim gestured dramatically. “She tamed the demon.”

Jason looked up to the ceiling like he was searching for divine intervention. “Why are all of you here?”

“We came for answers,” Tim said.

“We stayed for the snacks,” Dick added.

“And the Wi-Fi,” Tim finished.

Jason looked at you.

You smiled sweetly. “Cinnamon rolls?”

He sighed, walked into the kitchen, and took one off the tray. “I hate all of you.”

But he didn’t leave.

Not when you handed him his mug. Not when you leaned into his side. Not even when Damian held up his newest painting like it was the Mona Lisa.

Jason looked around his overcrowded apartment—full of noise, cocoa, and chaos.

“…You’re all sleeping on the floor.”

← Previous Chapter ✯ Next Chapter →

[deathbxnny]

Arcane women accidentally confessing to you. | Sevika, Jinx, Caitlyn, Vi x Gn!Reader

This is very self-indulgent, so enjoy.<3

Content: pre-season 2 because I want to be happy rn, slight angst if you squint, fluff, accidental confessions, maybe ooc??, cursing, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》SEVIKA

She was resting at the last drop with you during some downtime in between missions. One hand lingered on your hip whilst her metallic one held onto her cigar, eyes focused on the pocker game she was playing with a couple of Silco's other henchmen. She always kept you close this way, a clear sign of who you belonged to despite never having said a word about it yet. It was a mutual understanding only you could have, and so she didn't think a confession was necessary.

Until today, it seemed.

You were secretly helping her cheat a little and eventually told her the winning move, which earned her a large sum of money. Letting out a smug laugh at everyone's angered and defeated glares, she gave you a lazy grin. "Thanks, sweetheart. This is why I love you." She hummed to you, smoke exhaling from her dark lips, before she froze ever so slightly. Well, it shouldn't be that much of a surprise to either of you, and yet she couldn't help but chuckle at your own stunned face.

Looking at the men around her, she threw some poker chips towards them, clearly asking for another round. She wasn't the type to get flustered or shy anyways, so her moving on like nothing happened was on brand.

The only acknowledgment you got, however, was the hand on your hip tightening.

》JINX

She has a hard time hiding her feelings for you due to her rather energetic and extremely clingy nature. But there is still a clear distance between you two that she's too scared to cross. It was a deep fear of ruining everything she had with you in case her confession went wrong. She'd rather you consider her your best friend for life if it meant for you to stay at her side. She didn't want to lose more people after all. And yet, as fate has it, she eventually lost herself in a good and happy moment with you.

You were tinkering on some projects in her hideout whilst listening to music. Her head was leaning against your shoulder as her eyes traced your focused gaze. Jinx felt so content and at peace in that moment that she couldn't stop the words that spilled out of her mouth. "I love you." It took her a second to realise what happened, and her body was quick to flinch away from you. You kept her in place, however, with a free hand placed against her head. "Hey, it's okay. I love you too. I'm not leaving." You reassured her quickly with a smile, one that made her heart skip a beat.

She may not see herself as deserving of you, but she's glad to have you at her side anyway. Hopefully forever.

》CAITLYN

Caitlyn was good at hiding her emotions from you. In fact, she had refused to tell you in fear of breaking the professionalism you two had and, most importantly, your friendship that she cherished deeply. And so, she was very careful not to reveal a single thing... until her confidence betrayed her and caused her to slip up.

You two were reviewing a new case together, and whilst she wasn't paying attention, she accidentally slid you her diary over. It unfortunately looked too similar to her work notebook, something she only realised the moment you opened it and froze in surprise. She may have scribbled your name all over it. She may have childishly drawn hearts around your name. She may have made it awfully clear that she loved you. And it made her wonder if there was a god out there that hated her deeply.

"... My apologies. Please ignore that-" "-Haha, I'm so relieved that I'm not the only one who did this!" You let out a soft laugh before pulling out your notebook and showing her similar pages to her own, just with her name written all over them. Her face was flushed from how flustered and embarrassed she was, but alas, she too couldn't help and chuckle at how silly this all was. At least you felt the same.

》VI

It's not like she didn't want to confess her feelings to you. She just didn't know how! Her confession should sweep you right off your feet in her mind, and yet nothing she came up with seemed good enough. Vi hoped that her flirting would get the point across, but she lacked the confidence to go any further than compliments. She just didn't want you to think differently of her and therefore kept her distance for the most part regarding the subject. That is if she could keep it in for lobger than she already has. She always felt so strongly about others, after all.

So, during a little hang out session in a bar somewhere in Zaun, she attempted to find the courage to tell you how she felt. Whilst she went off to go and get you a drink first, however, a drunken man showed up at your side and started flirting you in a rather uncomfortable way. You tried making it clear that you weren't interested, but as he went to grab your arm, a hand slammed in between you two onto the bar table. "Hey, I think they told you no, asshole." "Who the hell are you?" The man barked back, yet Vi didn't back down and simply blocked you from his view with her body. "I'm their girlfriend, now fuck off." She hissed, and the man just rolled his eyes before walking off grumbling.

Silence filled the space in between you two until you chuckled softly. "Girlfriend, huh? I like the sound of that." You hummed, secretly trying to ease her embarrassed mind, that quickly recovered at your words with a sly grin. "You do?" You mirrored her smile with a nod. "Very much so. I'm glad we think alike."

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

25 Laws of power for women

Conceal your goals especially the ones that are appealing. Losing weight, reinventing yourself, marrying wealthy. Instead talk about your altruistic goals - to help children, invest in education, this will chase insecure people with vile intentions.

Do not give anyone your source of power: Was is a book that changed your life? a mentor? a movie? Never give up your secret to success. If forced to do say allude to God, the universe, the a random phenomenon

Use the patriarchy to your favor; we live in a world that is, only associate with men who have power, use that power for good.

Never appear too perfect but be selectively vulnerable when needed. Only share something that you will be comfortable saying. You might say “I forget my keys all the time,” “I don’t know how to perfectly park a car “. But never disclose something you are not comfortable with just because you are afraid of being perfect.

Maintain distance in relationships. Friends are the best and you need them. But if you feel that they are becoming too dependent, see them at your own will. But also the reverse could be the case. Your friend may keep a distance, and that is the way of life. You have got to move on from it.

Develop your own style that makes you unique, beautiful, and elegant. Avoid trying to fit in the crowd of people who claim to care less about their style yet have too many opinions about other women’s style

Avoid male friends at all cost, you will have male colleagues, male bosses, male acquaintances, business partners. Keep it that way. You do not want a Truman Capote divulging your secrets to the world. Do not keep a man who does not fit your standard.

You do not have to win at every game. Pick and choose what is best for you and leave room for others. And step down if you have attained that level of success, do not let the society do it for you.

Trust people but remember that we are all humans. So trust with discretion!

Confuse people with kindness; people are not always comfortable with beautiful and intelligent women. That power is too intimidating so confuse them by being genuinely generous, curious, kind, and passionate.

Keep your strong opinions to yourself.. if you support a movement, a way of life, do so silently.

We all have dirty laundry, wash them privately, don’t expose yourself. Remain silent when people try to attack you or shame you. Whatever is not confirmed is not true. You are the only one who knows all the truth about you.

Don’t attract pity or praise: People who pity you do not help you, in fact they might think that you are weak and could mock you at their annual gossipping meeting. And if you are doing things for the sake of praise you are wasting your time.

Choose yourself all the time; never put any one’s feelings above yours.

Trust your own intuition if you feel someone is being malicious towards you, giving you back handed compliments then you should let them go

Never speak bad of another woman. Do not lazy around gossipping. Keep your hands clean and your conscience clear.

Avoid women with low self esteem they will bring you down. For some reason they do not like seeing other women who are doing better than them

Be careful who you seek validation from. Not everyone needs to be pleased. If they are in no way capable of contributing to your life in the ways you prefer, then don’t ask them for their opinions or please them.

Do not compete with other women, if you do you are only putting them on a pedestal. You are making the the standard by which you measure your progress. If you do compete, begin digging your grave.

Do not give unsolicited advice, do not share the inner workings of your mind, If your mouth is very charitable you better start journaling.

Be well-rounded and interesting. It attracts people. It also keeps you busy because you are continually improving and learning. An idle mind is an easily subdued one.

Avoid women who want to live vicariously through you; they want to know who you know, shop where you shop, befriend who you befriend, wear what you wear.

Pay attention to the source of your discomfort; get rid of them. You tell them your dreams and they remind you of all your hindrances. They ask why are you dressed so fancy as though fancy isn’t subjective. They undermine you interests and goals. They will also be quick to bring you down because they are afraid of your potential.

Do not fear power or please power. When we see powerful people we try to hard to befriend them, to be close to them but you need to be comfortable without them. Don’t push yourself in the name of friendship, do not try too hard to be in their inner circle. Your independence of mind is the most important. Instead become a powerful woman, aloof to the presence of power but aware of its importance. Be an ingenious and intelligent and use your creativity to uplift yourself. When you do so it will be hard to ignore you. Even the powerful will become an ally.

Enjoy moments of solitude. Use that time to develop yourself, improve your body, learn new skills, create with your mind, read widely, become more elegant, then launch yourself.

Remember the most powerful women are the most intelligent. Inspired by Robert Greene's 48 Laws of Power. Use at your discretion.

[evcrmoresworld]

quiet girl 𐙚

Rafe Cameron x Shy!Reader

sfw, warnings! Light intimidation, possessive behaviour, tension, language.

Possible prequel....This is kinda lame and rushed.

You don’t belong here.

The words echo through your head the second you walk through the entrance of the Cameron’s estate. Too many pastel polos, smug smiles, and the weight of every eye landing on your second hand dress like it had no right to be here.

You cling to your purse like a lifeline. Sarah told you it would be ‘lowkey’. She said “It will just be a few people.”

Sarah lied.

There’s music. Loud conversations. Beer bottles and boat shoes. And standing by the stairs like he owns the place, because he kinda does, is Rafe Cameron.

He spots you immediately. Of course he does.

You try not to look, but you feel his gaze, sharp and unrelenting, like the hot sun on already burning skin.

And then he moves.

You’re halfway to the living room, having spotted Sarah, eyes on the floor, when his voice cuts through the noise like a blade.

“Well, well. Didn’t know Sarah was taking in charity cases now.”

Your whole body stiffens.

You turn slowly. You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you do. Because it’s him. Because he’s always been like this with you, always so mean, cruel, and yet interested. And you don’t know which part is worse.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He raises an eyebrow. Saunters closer.

“Didn’t know you could speak. Usually just see you hiding behind your friends like their little lap dog.”

You flinch.

He notices and smirks.

That cruel, perfect mouth of his quirks up like he’s just won a game you didn't know you were playing.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” you mumble. “I’ll go.”

You try to walk past him, but his hand shoots out, catching your wrist. His palm is warm and soft.

“Go where?” he asks, voice low now. “You just got here.”

You look up at him, bad move.

He’s tall—so much taller up close. His blonde hair is pushed back like he’s run his hands through it, but a single strand has escaped, curled across his forehead. His eyes are a piercing glacial blue, and that smile is wolfish and wild, like he knows you’re intimidated and loves it.

“I just… I don’t want to bother anyone.”

“You’re not bothering me.”

That surprises you.

Your brows knit. He sees the confusion. His hand tightens on your wrist just a little, like he knows you’re about to bolt.

“You think I came over here because I was bothered?” he asks, tilting his head. “Sweetheart, if I didn’t want you here, you’d be gone already.”

There’s something dangerous in his tone. Not just cocky, something threatening. But you’ve never been the kind of girl to stand her ground in the face of danger. You ran.

Your eyes flick to the front door again.

He notices that, too.

“You’re scared of me,” he says, not as a question.

You swallow.

“I��” you trail off. Because lying to Rafe feels stupid. But telling the truth? That’s feels even worse.

And suddenly, something shifts.

His grip loosens.

His smirk fades, just barely.

And when he speaks again, his voice is quieter. Lower. Like it’s just for you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You blink up at him.

That doesn’t sound like Rafe. That sounds…human.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. Not at you, but at himself.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re just so—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence.

He looks at your dress, the white cotton hem brushing against your thighs. At the way your fingers tremble just slightly around your purse.

“You’re not like them,” he says.

You shake your head slowly. “No. I’m not.”

He nods once. “That’s why I notice you.”

That admission sits between you. Heavy. Dangerous.

You don’t know what to say. You should walk away. But your feet stay rooted. And he steps closer. So close you can feel the heat radiating from his body. A part of you wanted to lean into the warmth.

“You’re Sarah’s friend,” he says. “That means you come around. Which means I see you.”

His voice drops even lower. "A lot of people see you." He pauses, eyes scanning your face, “And I don’t like the way the other guys look at you.”

Your breath catches.

Is he jealous?

“Why?” you whisper.

He shrugs, but it’s forced.

“Because they don’t know what to do with a girl like you. You’re soft. Quiet. Not made for people like us.”

“Then why are you still talking to me?”

That gets him.

His eyes flash with something hungry. Possessive.

He leans in until his mouth is right next to your ear.

“Because I want to see what happens when I stop pretending I don’t want you.”

Your pulse skitters. Goosebumps travel down your arms.

“I’m not scared of you,” you lie.

His breath brushes your neck.

“Yeah, you are.”

Then he lets go.

Takes a full step back. Runs a hand over his jaw, almost regretful.

“Go find Sarah,” he says, voice rough.

And with that, he walks away.

You’re left staring after him, heart in your throat, hands shaking.

[mcrdvcks]

— love language

summary: You and Matt are now dating, but you haven't told anyone. How long will it take your friends to notice?

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

notes: i had this idea after writing goodnight n go (which is technically the first part, but you don't need to read it to understand this). anyways, here's a bunch of fluff

warnings/tags: after endgame but date is not specified, best friends to lovers, reader works at stark industries, matt is a cocky little shit, making out

Things moved on normally, the only thing that had changed in the past month was that you two weren’t just friends but dating.

You didn’t realize it, but you were already quite close to Matt.

Matt chuckled, his arm hooked around yours as the two of you waited in line for coffee. “Really?” He asked sarcastically.

“Ugh.” You elbowed him. “You’re an ass.”

“I’m just saying, what kinda friends have a toothbrush at their place?” He tapped his cane against the floor lightly.

You tilted your head. “Uhhh… pretty sure at one point Foggy had a toothbrush at your place.”

“That he never used other than one time.”

You scoffed, nudging his side again. "Still counts."

Matt smirked. "Does it?"

"Yes, because that means I’m not the weird one here. You just have a habit of letting people leave their stuff at your place."

Matt tilted his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. "Interesting theory. Except you’re the only person whose toothbrush has stayed."

You opened your mouth to argue, then paused, realizing he was right. "Okay, fine, but that’s only because—"

"You stay over all the time?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, squeezing your arm lightly before stepping forward to order.

---

Foggy opened the door to Matt’s office. “Hey, did you ever finish the deposition for the Martin case?”

Matt put down the fork to his Pad Thai, leaving it in the Styrofoam container. “Yeah, I did.”

You took the opportunity, snatching the fork from his container and stealing a bite of his Pad Thai. Matt huffed, but you could hear the amusement in it.

"Really?" he murmured.

"You put it down," you said, chewing. "That means it's fair game."

Foggy barely glanced up from the papers in his hand. "She’s got a point, Matt. You know the rules."

Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he blindly reached for the fork still in your grip. You dodged, keeping it out of his reach as you took another bite.

Foggy flipped a page. "Anyway, judge pushed the hearing back a week, which is good because it gives us time to go over the new witness statement. Karen’s taking a look at it now."

Matt hummed in acknowledgment, still trying to reclaim his fork. You smirked, shifting slightly in his lap. He retaliated by sliding an arm around your waist, pinning you in place.

"You gonna give that back?" he murmured.

"Maybe," you teased, holding it just out of reach.

Foggy sighed, still not looking up. "If you two devolve into a full-on fork battle, at least take it outside. I don’t need Pad Thai in the depositions."

Matt smirked, finally managing to grab the utensil from your grip. "Noted."

You huffed but didn’t move, resting your elbow on his shoulder instead. "Fine. I got what I wanted anyway."

Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he twirled the fork back into his food.

Foggy snapped the folder shut. "Alright, well, since you two seem busy, I’ll go see if Karen needs help."

"Let us know if you need anything," Matt said easily.

"Yeah, yeah," Foggy muttered, already halfway out the door.

---

Josie’s was loud and crowded as always, but at this point it was like a second home. You were telling Karen about an incident in the lab. “—Levi somehow hooks the string around the sprinkler and pulls. I get an alert on my tablet and rush over to the lab. Turns out, when he pulled the sprinkler, he also pulled part of the main water line. All for a tiny qubit that got stuck on the ceiling.”

Karen snorted, shaking her head. "Please tell me this guy got fired."

"Nope," you said, sipping your drink. "Because technically, it worked. The qubit came loose. He just, y’know… flooded half the floor in the process."

Karen groaned. "God, Stark Industries sounds like a nightmare sometimes."

"You have no idea," you muttered, setting your glass down.

As you kept talking, you felt your shirt strap slide down your shoulder. It wasn’t anything major, just a slight shift, but before you could adjust it yourself, Matt did it for you.

His hand found your shoulder with ease, fingers brushing your skin as he hooked the strap with two fingers and guided it back into place. It was quick, thoughtless, something he’d probably done a hundred times before without even realizing.

Karen barely blinked.

You didn’t think much of it either, continuing on. "Anyway, Levi tried to convince me it was an 'engineering breakthrough' and that 'technically' he proved a new method of remote retrieval—"

"You’re kidding," Karen deadpanned.

"Oh, I wish."

Matt smirked beside you, listening quietly. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, close but not overbearing.

Karen leaned forward, taking another sip of her drink. "So what’d you do?"

You grinned. "Told him if he ever did that again, I’d make sure the next thing he got stuck was his own head in the centrifuge."

Karen burst out laughing. "And let me guess—he immediately backed down."

"Pretty much," you said smugly.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are terrifying sometimes."

"And yet, here you are," you teased, echoing the same words you’d said to him earlier that morning.

Matt tilted his head slightly, smirk deepening. "Guess I have a thing for danger."

Karen rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. She was too used to the way you two interacted, and nothing about tonight seemed different from any other night.

---

“You didn’t have to come.” Matt murmured, as your hands combed through his hair. “It’s just a mugging case.”

“And yet,” you pulled your hands away. “You were goin’ to walk in there with hair like that.” You gave him a grin. “I helped you devil boy. Oh, wait.”

You pulled his red-lensed glasses off before cleaning them with your shirt. Matt huffed, tilting his head slightly. "You know, most people don’t manhandle my things without permission."

"Most people aren’t me," you shot back, flipping the glasses open and sliding them back onto his face.

Matt’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue.

Foggy sighed from beside you. "How do you two have time for this while standing outside a courtroom?"

Karen smirked, arms crossed. "Multitasking."

You grinned. "Exactly. I’m helping him and annoying him at the same time."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You really do take your job seriously."

"Obviously."

Before Foggy could reply, the courtroom doors opened, and the previous case let out, lawyers and reporters filing into the hallway. The four of you straightened slightly as Matt rolled his shoulders, settling into courtroom mode.

"Alright," Matt murmured, adjusting his tie. "Let’s get this over with."

You reached out instinctively, running a hand down the front of his suit, smoothing the fabric. "You’re good."

Matt caught your wrist before you could pull away, his thumb brushing over your pulse for just a second longer than necessary. “You going to stay?”

“Yep. I’ll be sittin’ in the front row looking pretty.”

Foggy snorted. "Sittin’ pretty? That’s your plan?"

"Someone’s gotta balance out Matt’s whole intimidating blind lawyer thing," you teased, adjusting your bag over your shoulder.

Matt smirked. "Intimidating, huh?"

"You know what you do," you muttered, patting his chest once before stepping back.

Karen chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, let’s get in there before we miss the good part."

The courtroom was already filling up when you and Karen slipped into the front row, Matt and Foggy making their way to the bench. You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back slightly as you pulled your phone from your bag, muting notifications.

"You know, sometimes I forget you don’t actually work for them," Karen mused, watching as you settled in.

You glanced at her. "Why?"

Karen shrugged. "You’re here so often, always involved in their cases, bringing them food, making sure Matt doesn’t walk into court looking like he just crawled out of a dumpster—"

"Hey," you cut in. "I don’t make him look good. He just listens to me when I tell him to fix his tie."

Karen smirked, tilting her head. "Mhm."

You rolled your eyes, looking toward the front of the courtroom. Matt and Foggy were talking in hushed tones, Foggy flipping through a stack of papers while Matt leaned slightly toward him, nodding at something he said.

Karen was still watching you, but you ignored her.

The judge entered, and the room settled as the proceedings began.

---

The hearing wasn’t long, but it was long enough for you to notice Karen sneaking glances at you every so often. You didn’t say anything, keeping your focus on the case.

Matt and Foggy handled it well, as expected. You knew Matt’s confidence in the courtroom was unmatched, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the red lenses, you knew he was completely locked in, analyzing every shift in the judge’s tone, every heartbeat in the room.

By the time the judge adjourned the hearing, you were stretching slightly, rolling your shoulders as you stood.

Matt and Foggy approached, gathering their things. "Well," Foggy said, stuffing papers into his briefcase. "That went about as well as it could’ve."

Matt hummed in agreement. "We should have a decision in a few days."

Karen exhaled. "That was exhausting to watch, so I can’t imagine how you two feel."

Matt smiled. "Used to it."

You reached out, fixing the fold of his pocket square before he could tuck his cane under his arm. "You did good."

Matt turned his head toward you slightly, smirk playing at his lips. "Yeah?"

You huffed. "Yeah, Murdock. Try not to look so smug about it."

Foggy raised a brow, gaze flickering between the two of you for a second. Karen, too, was watching, something unreadable in her expression.

Neither of them said anything.

"Alright," Foggy finally broke the silence, snapping his briefcase shut. "Lunch? Please? I need food after all that legal jargon."

"Agreed," Karen said.

You nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Matt tapped his cane against the floor once, falling into step beside you. Karen shot one last glance between the two of you but still said nothing.

---

You pulled out an expired container of milk. “Matty, I seriously don’t know how you, of all people, didn’t notice you had 2-week expired milk in your fridge.”

Matt smirked from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I make a habit of sniffing my milk cartons?"

You made a face, waving the expired container in his direction. "Considering you should be able to smell the rotting dairy in your fridge? Yeah, actually, I do."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, stepping forward as you popped the lid open and took an experimental sniff—only to gag immediately.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shoving the carton at him. "Smell it. I dare you."

Matt wrinkled his nose, taking a slight step back. "I’ll pass."

"Uh-huh, that’s what I thought." You shut the carton and tossed it in the trash before opening the fridge again. "When’s the last time you actually bought groceries?"

Matt leaned against the counter, lips twitching. "Don’t know. You usually do it for me."

You shot him a look over your shoulder. "That’s not the win you think it is, Murdock."

"I don’t know," he murmured, stepping behind you, hands settling at your waist. "Feels like a win to me."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, lips brushing just behind your ear. You huffed, pushing him back lightly with your elbow. "No, you don’t get to distract me. Your fridge is a disaster."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t let go entirely. "I’ve survived this long."

"Yeah, because I keep you alive," you muttered, pulling out a sad-looking bag of spinach and holding it up for him. "This? This is a crime."

Matt smirked. "Pretty sure I deal with actual crimes for a living."

"You’re so lucky you’re cute." You tossed the bag onto the counter with a sigh. "Alright, that’s it. We’re going grocery shopping."

"You say that like I have a choice."

"You don’t," you said, shutting the fridge and turning in his arms.

Matt smiled, fingers brushing over your hip before he dropped his hands. "At least let me buy you dinner after."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Bribing me with food?"

"Wouldn’t be the first time."

You rolled your eyes, but the smirk you tried to suppress still made its way onto your lips. "Fine. But you’re carrying all the bags."

"Deal," Matt murmured, reaching for his cane.

You grabbed your coat, glancing at him as he adjusted his watch. "And I’m making sure you don’t buy anything that will expire in two days."

Matt chuckled. "Now that’s just cruel."

---

The grocery store was relatively quiet for a Friday night, the kind of late-evening lull where the only customers were people grabbing last-minute dinner ingredients or, in Matt’s case, replacing an entire fridge’s worth of expired food.

You pushed the cart while Matt walked beside you, his hand resting lightly at the crook of your elbow. "Alright, first things first," you said, steering the cart toward the produce section. "You’re getting actual vegetables. Not just things that used to be vegetables before they died a slow, tragic death in your fridge."

Matt smirked. "I resent that."

"You resent having to eat vegetables," you shot back, picking up a head of lettuce and tossing it into the cart.

Matt tilted his head slightly, like he was considering. "That might be true."

You sighed dramatically. "It’s like taking a toddler shopping."

"You did sign up for this," Matt pointed out, casually trailing his fingers over the display of apples as he passed.

You side-eyed him. "Did I? I don’t remember agreeing to supervise you."

"You knew what you were getting into," he teased, reaching past you to grab an apple and setting it in the cart.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, adding a few more. "What else do you need? Other than everything."

Matt hummed, fingers tapping lightly against the handle of the cart. "Bread. Eggs. Coffee."

"Obviously," you muttered, already steering the cart in that direction.

As you walked, Matt’s hand slid from your elbow to your wrist, fingers idly tracing over your pulse before his hand found yours, linking your fingers together like it was nothing.

You squeezed his hand slightly. "If you think holding my hand is gonna distract me from making you buy actual groceries, you’re wrong."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Worth a shot."

"Mm-hmm," you mused, scanning the shelves as you walked. You paused near the coffee aisle, reaching for a bag of Matt’s usual blend.

"That one’s good," Matt said, nodding toward it.

You smirked, holding up a different one just to mess with him. "What about this one?"

Matt tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "That one’s decaf."

Your lips parted in mock surprise. "Wow. Look at that. Guess you do pay attention to your groceries."

Matt exhaled a laugh, leaning in slightly. "I pay attention to you."

Your stomach flipped, but you covered it with an eye roll, tossing his usual coffee into the cart before dragging him toward the next aisle.

---

By the time you made it to the checkout, the cart was full. Probably more food than Matt had ever willingly bought for himself.

"You’re never gonna finish all this," he mused as you unloaded onto the conveyor belt.

"You will if you actually cook," you shot back. "And don’t tell me you can’t. I’ve seen you do it."

Matt smirked, handing the cashier his card before you could stop him. "Guess I have no choice now."

You squinted at him. "That sounds suspiciously like a challenge."

Matt tilted his head. "Maybe it is."

You grinned. "Alright, Murdock. Guess I’ll be the judge of whether or not you can actually cook."

Matt chuckled, grabbing the grocery bags as the cashier finished bagging them. "I did offer to buy you dinner."

You crossed your arms. "I thought we were talking restaurant dinner, not Murdock’s Mystery Kitchen dinner."

Matt smirked, shifting the bags in his hands. "I never specified."

You rolled your eyes but reached out, grabbing a couple of bags from him. "Fine. But if you burn anything, I’m taking over."

"Noted," Matt said, leaning in just slightly. "But I wouldn’t underestimate me, sweetheart."

You huffed, shoving a bag at him before walking toward the door. "We’ll see about that, devil boy."

---

“Where’s my shirt? You know, the soft blue one with a star embroidered on it?”

Matt, who was sitting on the couch, fingers tracing a braille legal document, tilted his head. “…Where are your clothes?”

“My—that’s what I’m asking you.” You replied, hands on your hips, leaning against his bedroom door.

Matt’s lips twitched, setting the braille document down on the coffee table. He turned his head slightly, his attention fully on you now. "You’re asking me where your clothes are?"

"Yes, Matty." You sighed, crossing your arms. "I took a shower, and now I can’t find my damn shirt. The soft blue one? The one with the star embroidered on it?"

Matt hummed, pushing himself up from the couch, his movements slow, deliberate. "And you think I did something with it?"

"You have a habit of stealing my clothes," you pointed out. "So yes, you’re my prime suspect."

Matt smirked, stepping toward you. "Interesting accusation, sweetheart."

You didn’t flinch as he closed the distance, his fingers barely brushing along your forearm, trailing up to your shoulder before settling against your jaw.

"You’re not wearing any clothes."

You rolled your eyes. "I am wearing clothes. Just not the ones I want."

Matt exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "Bra and underwear don’t count."

"Tell that to every guy who’s ever seen a Victoria’s Secret ad," you muttered.

Matt grinned. "Is that what this is? A show?"

You huffed, lightly swatting at his chest. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, echoing your words from earlier, his fingers still lazily tracing the edge of your jaw.

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Are you gonna help me find my shirt or not?"

Matt’s lips twitched. "I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to walk around like this."

You scoffed. "Matty, if I wanted to walk around half-naked in your apartment, I would. I don’t need an excuse."

Matt grinned. "Good to know."

You rolled your eyes, stepping back. "So are you gonna help or—"

Before you could finish, Matt turned toward his dresser, fingers trailing over the top before he grabbed something and held it out.

Your missing shirt.

Your jaw dropped. "You knew where it was this whole time?"

Matt shrugged. "You left it here last week. I thought it was mine."

You squinted at him. "Since when do you own a soft blue shirt with a star embroidered on it?"

Matt smirked. "I don’t, but you leave your stuff here so often, I figured it was fair game."

You snatched it from his hands. "Unbelievable."

Matt huffed a laugh, crossing his arms. "You gonna put it on, or do I get to keep enjoying the view?"

You shot him a look, but the heat in his voice sent something warm curling in your stomach. You turned away, slipping the shirt over your head, and when you glanced back, Matt was still smirking.

"Happy now?" you muttered.

Matt hummed, stepping closer again. "Not yet."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, catching your chin between his fingers before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

When he pulled back, his smirk deepened. "Now I’m happy."

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you love it."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.

---

It was late at night when Matt convinced you to stay. Foggy and Karen were out of the office for the night, leaving just you and Matt doing your separate work.

The office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper and the distant hum of the city outside.

You were perched on Matt’s couch, cross-legged, a set of blueprints spread across your lap while he sat at his desk, reading over a case file. Neither of you spoke, lost in your own work, but there was a comfortable ease to it.

"Are you even getting anything done over there?" Matt asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn’t look up. "Are you?"

He hummed. "I was. Until I realized how unfair this is."

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. "What’s unfair, Matty?"

"You get to sit all comfy on my couch, while I’m stuck here, hard at work."

You snorted. "Hard at work, huh? I didn’t realize whining counted as work."

Matt pushed his chair back, standing slowly. "I think I deserve a break."

You barely glanced up. "Then take one. I’m actually doing something productive."

Matt made his way toward you, hands in his pockets. "Are you?"

You narrowed your eyes, lifting a brow. "Yes. Unlike some people, I have deadlines to meet."

Matt hummed, stepping in front of you. "And yet, you’re still here. With me."

"Because you asked me to stay," you reminded him, flipping a page. "You coerced me."

Matt smirked. "Did I?"

"Yes, you—hey!"

In one swift motion, Matt plucked the blueprints from your lap and set them aside. Before you could protest, he leaned down, hands bracketing your sides as he caged you against the couch.

"Take a break with me, angel," he murmured.

You exhaled, glaring up at him. "You are so—"

Whatever insult you had lined up died in your throat as Matt leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw. His lips brushed over your pulse, deliberate, teasing.

"Annoying?" he murmured.

You swallowed hard. "Distracting."

Matt grinned against your skin. "Mm. I’ll take that."

Your fingers curled around his tie, tugging slightly. "You are so lucky I like you."

Matt chuckled, dipping his head until his lips were just barely grazing yours. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You closed the distance, kissing him properly.

Matt exhaled against your lips, deepening it immediately. His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You barely noticed when he guided you backward, until the edge of his desk dug into your lower back.

"Matty," you murmured between kisses.

"Mm?"

"I thought we were taking a break."

"This is my break," he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

You huffed a quiet laugh, threading your fingers into his hair. "Productive."

Matt grinned against your skin, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. "You’re the one distracting me, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. His lips trailed back up, capturing yours again in a kiss that left your head spinning.

Neither of you noticed the sound of the front door opening.

At least, you didn’t.

Matt either didn’t hear it, or—more likely—just didn’t care.

"Hey, Matt, I left my phone—"

Foggy’s voice cut through the air like a record scratch.

You froze.

Matt, however, barely reacted. His lips left yours just enough for him to let out a quiet sigh—like he was annoyed—before pressing one last kiss to your jaw.

"Should’ve knocked, Fog," he murmured.

Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t dare turn around. Foggy, for his part, just stood there. Silent. Karen was the one to break it. "Uh."

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back against the desk. "Jesus Christ."

Matt still didn’t move. He just turned his head slightly in their direction. "You left your phone?"

Foggy blinked. "Yeah." A beat. "But now I kinda wanna leave it here forever."

Karen coughed, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Should we leave?"

You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

Matt just smirked. "You could, but I doubt you will."

Karen cleared her throat. "Y’know what? I suddenly really need a drink."

"Yeah, me too," Foggy muttered, grabbing his phone off the desk and speed walking toward the door.

Karen cast one last glance between the two of you, shaking her head before following. The second the door shut behind them, you finally shoved Matt away.

"You knew they were coming, didn’t you!?"

Matt grinned, shrugging. "You said it yourself—I have a habit of coercing you."

You gaped at him. "Murdock."

He just leaned in again, lips ghosting over your ear. "You gonna finish what you started, angel?"

Your face burned. "I started!?"

Matt chuckled, nudging his nose against yours.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, still flustered.

"And yet," Matt murmured, smirking, "here you are."

[muqingslover]

[ This is different than what I usually post but I had to get this out of my system. The new DMC show brought back so many memories and idc what the haters say it's PEAK.

Anyway, to the DMC lovers out there, please accept this humble offering ]

Being in a relationship with Dante. | some NSFW included.

⊹— He may be the best demon hunter but in a relationship? He's the BIGGEST loser. Dante is always throwing some lame pick-up line your way and believe me when I say he will not give up until one sticks. (Spoiler warning: The fact that it actually works only makes him want to do it again)

—⊹ Dating Dante is not for the faint hearted. You have to be ready for all kinds of beyond ridiculous situations and have a godly amount of adaptability.

⊹— He will ALWAYS answer the phone for you. Literally. It doesn't matter what he's doing or where he is he will pick up the second he sees your name on the screen.

"Babe? Oh yeah! I'm totally still up for dinner! By the way, can you add those pieces of chocolate again to— *Approaching yelling in the background* Just a sec! *Crashing sounds and gunshots* Whew, okay, anyway like I was saying—"

—⊹ Oh yeah, he loooooves using pet names and silly nicknames. His personal favorites are "Babe" and "My little luck charm".

⊹— He likes to give you "traditional" dating gifts because that's what he always saw others do so when he shows up with a big ass teddy bear and a box of chocolates (which by the way he definitely ate some before giving it to you) please tell him you love it.

—⊹ Bro is so competitive. Dante is NOT letting you win in card games or any other board games because he wants to show off his skills to you. Though, if you get genuinely upset he would feel bad and invite you to play video games with him because he fails miserably at them every time.

⊹— His hands grab your ass every time you hug him. Not even in a sexual way he just can't help it and he never fails to throw a "nice ass" right after.

—⊹ Missing jewelry, hat or belt from your closet? He's the culprit. This guy will wear anything as long as he believes he looks good in it. I pray for you if you guys are a similar size because then you will have full clothing pieces missing.

⊹— He is THE hype man. Dante kisses the ground you walk on and he supports your rights and rights (because you could never do any wrong ;)).

—⊹ Dante's favorite thing is to show you off in every opportunity he gets. And if he doesn't have the opportunity then he'll just do it anyway. He is constantly yapping about how incredibly hot his partner is, how good your cooking is, how cute you look when you're focused and the way you smell so damn good all the time like, man! You're a freaking gift from the gods! (someone save poor Lady she can't bear to listen to him any more)

⊹— Please also hype him back in return! He has the worst praise kink case I've ever seen. Each time he's praised he just doesn't know what to do with himself and despite the initial cocky attitude he is easy to overwhelm if you don't stop. The first time you praised him while patting his head or scratching his chin he got a hard-on and had to rush out with a poor excuse before you noticed it.

—⊹ There is nothing romantic about sharing a bed with him. It's an absolute nightmare. First of all, this guy is physically incapable of sleeping with his clothes on. He just can't do it. Dante used to sleep butt ass naked but then you convinced him to at least wear boxers. Next on the list of problems is the snoring— Like, it's so loud you thought there was a truck engine next to you instead of your boyfriend. Not to mention the fact he takes up all space on the bed and moves around SO MUCH while he's asleep.

Please invest in separate beds before you kill him.

⊹— Absolutely hates morning. Getting him out of bed is the hardest thing to do and that's saying a lot with the life you two lead. He will keep you trapped in bed with him by wrapping his strong arms around your waist only to when you get up he sloooowly slides off the mattress and onto floor like a worm hanging to you.

—⊹ Surprisingly, or not, very insecure. This man is not controlling in any way though, he is just very worried that he won't be able to protect you if something was to happen or that you will realize you made a mistake by being with him.

⊹— His favorite thing is to make you smile. I know a lot of people paint him as stupid but I genuinely think he just acts silly as a defense mechanism. It's a mask. With you, though? He will purposely act like a dork because he knows it makes you smile.

—⊹ To add to that, Dante does everything he can to keep your spirits up; Someone hurt your feelings? No need to fret, he’s already planning their downfall. Feeling under the weather? tickle monster time! Migraine? He is closing the curtains and cuddling you until it gets better!

⊹— The filter between his brain and mouth is naturally bad but with you, who he is truly comfortable with, it's just INEXISTENT. This may range from random, useless bullshit to out of pocket comments that should definitely not be said out loud.

—⊹ Physical contact is his thing. I mean, he NEEDS it and can be very high maintenance about it. Having his hands on you is not enough for Dante he has to be as close as physically possible and you need to be giving him some kind of attention in return.

⊹— Hugging you from behind when you're cook, snuggling while on the couch together, keeping a firm arm hooked around your waist while outside, constantly nuzzling his nose on your hair, kissing your neck at every chance he gets, pulling you into his lap as if it's his second nature ECT.

—⊹ Did I mention he adores your hair? In particular long hair because then he can fidget with it by twirling it around his finger or by being a dork and putting it between his lips and nose to make a mustache.

⊹— Your lips are like a drug to him. He will be saying "okay, okay I REALLY gotta bail now" and then stare at you for a solid two seconds then steal another kiss and another and another....oops, he's 30 minutes late already.

—⊹ Dante is a biter. God help you when you give him cuteness aggression (which is basically always) because he will chew on you like candy. Your skin is often red from teeth marks and he doesn't feel sorry about it at all.

⊹— Cannot cook to save his life but absolutely loves your food. Especially if you're good at baking! Man's scarfing down those sweet treats like it's his last meal on earth.

—⊹ He sings while he's showering and holds the bottle of shampoo to you like a microphone so you'll join him. Oh and yes, he is VERY tone-deaf.

⊹— No matter how many times he sees you naked he never gets tired of that blessed sight. He flirts with you like it's the first time he's seeing you and those naughty eyes speak for themselves.

—⊹ He has a high libido, especially in the beginning of the relationship where he's even more excitable than usual. Sex can be very clumsy and messy with him, but that's just what makes it so him.

⊹— If you're a breasty lady, he is reaaaaaally into you using your boobs to get him off. Dante also enjoys having your lips around his cock more than words could describe and a quickie in dark, tight spaces is part of the package with him.

—⊹ Bondage is a guilty pleasure of his. Dante prefers to be the one restrained and left at your mercy instead of the other way around because it's just very hot to him when you take control. You're also the only one he would trust to be this vulnerable with.

⊹— This guy is always late for EVERYTHING, but he shows up without a fail in the end. No matter how battered or tired he might be, not even if he was run over by a truck, he will definitely be there.