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phyrestartr · 1 year ago

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Till Death Do Us Part (Miguel x Reader)

Miguel x Husband!Reader W/C: 9.5k

#NSFW, exhibitionist kink, praise kink, hurt/comfort, infidelity, toxic relationships, brief verbal abuse, mending relationships, mentions of medication, mentions of mental illness, difficult/complex feelings and emotions, things work out in the end, nobody dies, the zombies aren't that important, old men just really going through it

Note: I cried a lot writing this lol please also cry and enjoy! (I also tried my best with the Spanish and tried to reference good sources, but I apologize if it sounds whack lol I only know EN and JP o(--( )

-- Till Death Do Us Part --

"(Name), where the fuck are you?" Miguel ran his hand through his hair as he watched the news, as he stared outside at the cascade of chaos. He waited for you to pick up the phone. He'd already called so many times, but you weren't picking up. Why weren't you fucking picking up?

"Miguel, he's probably fine," Dana cooed as her arms looped around him from behind. "You need to worry about what we're gonna do."

Miguel shook his head and shoved Dana's arms off of him. "Our daughter–Gabriella–"

"You mean our daughter?" Her tone was vile. So, so fucking vile.

"Shut up," Miguel barked before ripping the phone from his ear when your voicemail picked up again. He shot you another text, asking where you were before his fidgety fingers scrolled the log up and down, cruelly reminding himself of the messages he'd ignored from you just a few days ago.

November 18th 7:04am babe come home 7:04am please 12:19pm we can talk about it 12:20pm we'll figure it out 12:46pm gabi misses you 9:34pm call me tomorrow

November 19th 7:35am you still ignoring me? 7:40am gabi wants to call you 7:41am you gonna answer if it's her? 8:05am i'll tell her you're busy with work 9:50pm i miss you

November 21st 9:56pm call me

November 23rd 12:01am i shot someone 12:01am i had to 12:01am but i can't stop thinking about it 12:32am i need you 1:12am please 2:07am miguel

November 30th 7:16am miggs shit's crazy outside 7:17am lock the doors, don't let anyone inside 7:17am maybe stock up on food first idk this might take a while 7:18am but DON'T help anyone who's bit or injured 7:19am they evacuated gabi's school but i don't fucking know where they're going 7:19am i'm gonna find her, i promise 7:20am i love you. stay safe.

December 2nd 3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel rubbed his eyes. He sped past his own wall of text starting from that day, December 3rd, and sent another plea, another wish that you'd respond back sooner than a week from now.

"Oh my God, just give it up–"

"Dana, shut the fuck up, just shut up."

He called you again.

And this time, you answered.

Miguel's heart jumped. "(Name)?"

"Babe?" You sounded like you were panting, like you were straining against something. "Are–are you okay? Where are you?" A string of coughs punched out of your lungs in rough staccato, pinching Miguel's nerves with every ghastly beat. He was scared. He was so fucking scared.

"I--I'm," Miguel stammered, still unable to have that conversation, still too much of a coward in the end. "Does it matter?"

"Just keep the doors locked," you continued. "Keep 'em locked, and…and I dunno if you're in a tower or a house or fucking whatever, but don't leave until things get quiet." You picked yourself up from the ground, Miguel could tell by the scratch of gravel echoing wherever you were. "Don't get bit. Don't help anyone who is bit. Put yourselves first."

"But, I–you–do you have Gabi?" Panic gripped his throat as jets flew overhead, high above the city. The engines roared a gruesome apology, a sound Ouranos himself must have made when his own children slew him, so filled with godly enmity.

Then, molten death rained on the city. Miguel stared at roaring explosions dotting the cityscape, watching pillars of flame feed into the world's chaos. His hands trembled when the same carnage screeched through your phone.

"I'll find her. I-I promise, Miguel, I'll find her and--and I'll–shit."

There was gunfire. Gunfire encased in wild snarling. It devoured the crack of plastic hitting concrete, the noises you gasped out, the–

Silence.

Miguel hated his mind. He hated how it remembered that one moment so clearly, like it'd happened just a minute before the present. Sometimes, when he felt like torturing himself more, he wondered what your face looked like in those last moments. He wondered where your life flickered out. He wondered when he'd see you stumbling through the streets and have to put a bullet in your head.

But he'd force good memories to the surface when he found the light growing too dim; that confession and first kiss, starry nights spent lazing on the hood of your jeep, the look on your face when you finally held little Gabriella for the first time–it all chased away the darkness. It all made him feel whole again, it let him see clearly again. But with clarity came the difficulty of accepting what he'd lost.

He found a way to do it. He found a way to talk about you, too. It was hard not to–your old colleagues, other officers of the lost world, were an integral part of the Alchemax colony. Jeff Morales and George Stacy, amongst a few others, had known you, and by proxy they knew Miguel.

"He was a good guy," Jeff had mentioned when the moment felt right. "Bragged about having the best-looking and smartest partner around. Now, I ain't gonna say he was right, but he wasn't wrong." That brought warmth to Miguel's chest, but guilt smothered it too quickly.

"Never stopped talking about your daughter either." George smiled when he recalled it, but it was something small and morose. "Gabriella, right? Yeah, he said she was a smart cookie. Kind of a brat, apparently, but hey, with that guy as her father? Hah! I'm not surprised."

Miguel liked having them around. He liked the happy memories they brought to your name.

But on bad days, vulnerable days, Miguel wanted to break their necks and watch them turn so he could kill them again in their undeath; they still had their children, their families. How could they bring up what he'd lost while they still had everything?

Today was one of those days, too, one where your memory hurt just a little more than usual. Maybe it came with the snow whirling in the blue-drenched outdoors, or the sudden darkness the world lost itself in. But he knew the frostbite decaying his heart came from the eternal proof of your lost existence:

December 2nd 3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Why did you apologize? Miguel sighed, and carded a hand through his hair as he paced Alchemax's halls. Enough of that, Miguel. You need to focus. Focus.

And once he stepped foot in the control room, the routine morning check commenced: doors remained sealed with no record of tampering, security cameras still functioned, the solar panels still collected more than enough light to keep things rolling. Good. Perfect.

"Hey, hey, how's it lookin'?" Peter asked, a cup of coffee in one hand and his little girl tucked in the other arm. It would've been a wholesome sight, if Peter hadn't ruined it with a too-loud slurp from his mug. Ugh.

"Fine," Miguel grumbled. "Everything's in the green. Nothing to worry about." He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. "Just have to clear the snow off the solar panels later today."

"Oooh, snow! It is that time of the year, huh? December already! Who woulda thought. Time goes by pretty quick when you're not worried about getting eaten all the time." Peter looked at his little May and cooed. "Isn't that right, Mayday?"

Miguel rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head. "If you're that excited about snow, I'll put you on shovelling duty, Parker."

"Oh, wow, I'm suddenly deaf and can't hear you." Peter shuffled away in his stupid slippers and stupid bathrobe. "Oh, right, right, MJ made bread! Can you believe it? I feel like I haven't had a bread-carb in forever! We really gotta do another supply run or we're eating canned beans all winter long. Y'know what? I'll put it on the 'to-do' list!"

Miguel threw a glare at Peter over his shoulder. He was annoying, but he wasn't wrong. They did need more food, more supplies, more ways to sustain themselves. Scavenging the dregs of supermarkets and convenience stores wasn't cutting it anymore; there were too many mouths to feed, and shitty, packaged foods wouldn't suffice much longer.

Miguel braced his hands on the centre console after pulling up a satellite map of the surrounding area. The lab they called home laid nestled away from prying eyes of citizens, making it a safer place to start to rebuild the semblance of a normal life. Though, at the same time, it made it more difficult to get in and out of the city in good time. They had to pick their destination on the map, calculate the time it'd take to get there, and then execute the plan with little to no hiccups. It was hard. It was a pain in the ass. But it had to be done.

Miguel took his time scanning through the map, trying to spot any buildings they hadn't already marked off as empty and not worth the trip. These days, they had to get creative, they had to think of places that'd have food where people wouldn't expect, where the average scavenger wouldn't think to look and–

"Shit," Miguel breathed before rushing to move the map. "How could I forget?"

He spotted a small building on the map, one they'd never ventured to, one they never thought to go to. A chain link fence surrounded the perimeter, giving about five metres worth of breathing room around the building. Clusters of huge garden pots dotted the area randomly, along with whatever outdoor trees and shrubs that'd survived all these years on their own.

Miguel covered his mouth as he smiled.

"You might've just saved us, viejo."

Because you were a country boy. A farmer's son.

You convinced (begged) him to pull over, to go to the new garden store that'd appeared not too long ago. Miguel, far too smitten with you, couldn't find the heart to say 'no' to the excitement buzzing in your voice.

The store was filled with beautiful plants, ranging from common houseplants, to tropical rarities that Miguel never knew existed. All sorts of bushy plants, tall single-leafers, and vining beauties lined the displays and bathed in the gentle, constant mist raining down on them. It really felt like a tropical jungle landed in New York.

You'd sauntered over to the seed section while Miguel wandered through all the store had to offer before finding you again. You had several sachets in your hands and scanned the shelves for anything else that piqued your interest; they were all vegetable seeds, stuff like corn and green beans, tomatoes and onions, but the occasional herb showed itself as well.

To Miguel, raising vegetables seemed like a cute hobby. But to you, raising crops meant revisiting your childhood.

"You wanna get some?" Miguel asked. He looped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he read all the different seed names on display.

"Yeah. I mean…maybe. Dunno if a vegetable garden'll go with the house." You laughed softly, a little self-deprecatingly, before you reached to put the packets back. "I just–I don't know."

"I think it'll work." A smile warmed Miguel's face as pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We can make a greenhouse. A big one. In the backyard." He kissed your neck next. "You can show me the farmboy fantasy."

You laughed, turned in his arms, and kissed him. "Done."

Miguel crept up to the garden centre with Hobie and Gwen in tow. Travelling anywhere from the safe confines of Alchemax was something of a nightmare, but Miguel was used to it–despite being the man who knew how to run the building, he too often volunteered to head out on supply runs himself. He needed the space to think, to feel the darkness they’d found themselves in, and to feel the light of the sun on his skin to remind himself it wasn’t over. Because it was far from over.

The garden centre was surrounded by chain link fences encircling the entirety of the building, the very same ones Miguel had seen from the satellite’s view. Honestly, he found himself surprised to see just how good the place looked–the windows were mostly intact, the fences hadn’t been torn through, the doors were still sealed, and a row of crippled undead and frozen re-deads dotted the perimeter, but none were inside. It didn’t seem like any had ever been inside, actually.

“That’s…kinda weird, right?” Gwen murmured as she adjusted her toque. “This place feels like…like it never went under, or something.”

“Damn near stuck in the past, I’d say,” Hobie agreed. He looked to Miguel. “Fishy’s an understatement, yeah? Might be some not-so-dead-yets in there.”

Miguel took a deep breath as he thought. “It’s a plant store. Not the highest priority for scavengers like us.” He headed forward, grip tight on his hunting knife. “Try not to shoot. Not unless there’s a runner.”

“Better not be any runners,” Gwen grumbled. “It’s December. Hopefully they’re all freezing to double-death right now.”

Hobie scoffed a smile. “If not, we just give ‘em an early Christmas present, hey?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’d love their brains blown out.”

“Eh. I would.”

Miguel rolled his eyes as the youngins bickered softly behind him. There was no point stopping them–trying to dad them out in the wilds of New York just gave Miguel a bigger headache, and too often ended in a louder match of bickering and scolding, which then often resulted in the undead stumbling their way. It was always a mess. Maybe he should stop bringing the dynamic duo with him.

But you’d known them. You were fond of them, too, always letting them off the hook with a slap on the wrist when they were caught vandalizing buildings or stealing from stores when they were teenagers. You laughed when you told Miguel stories about them, about how Hobie’d call you “officer tall, sunny and handsome” to get on your good side (which worked), and how Gwen would try to bribe you with car-washings and babysitting to get you to not tell her dad what happened. You knew they were good kids, just bored and too smart for their own good. Miguel knew that, too; the two of you were thick as thieves back in the day, total petty-crime masterminds. Maybe Hobie and Gwen were your dark apprentices, in a way.

Miguel smiled faintly. He missed the days where you both broke into abandoned buildings, haunted houses and everything else inbetween to fool around and fuck. It’d always be filmed, much to Miguel’s embarrassment, but watching the videos back always made him feel…wanted. Appreciated. Like a rare piece of art.

You’d always cheese it up and make it sound like some sort of bad porno or found-footage film, like you didn't just break into Chuck E. Cheese to fuck in front of the creepy animatronics. Breaking the law got you excited, as ironic as that was for a future cop. Miguel thought you were a freak. Miguel was kind of a freak too, though.

“Fucking God,” Miguel moaned, somehow louder than the squeak of the table hosting your feverish coupling. His hips bucked and rolled against yours in a desperate attempt to keep up with your brutal, delicious pace, and his thighs dug into your sides with his hands clutching to your shoulders for dear life.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you mumbled into his ear. Miguel’s body gave a sharp, involuntary jolt, kickstarting the sudden crescendo of his well-earned euphoria. He let his voice be heard as he arched off that shitty table and up against your solid frame, his hips still rutting and moving in sync with your own. You groaned too, letting yourself be just as loud in the midst of him tightening around your heavy, thick cock pummeling into him.

“God, lookit that pretty face,” you growled when you pulled back to see how fucked out he was. “You feel good, huh? ‘M I makin’ you cum hard?” Your hand slapped the side of his ass, and Miguel whimpered sharply. “You’re so good, baby, so fucking good. I’ll make you cum again, yeah? Make you cum while you–while you take everything I got.”

You were terrible. Horrible. A monster in the sack, and apparently in front of powered-down robots. You did what you promised, and ripped another orgasm from his exhausted, over-stimulated body before reaching your own blissful undoing with a rude grin on your stupid, annoying face.

It made for good content, though.

They reached the front gate without problem, only to find it locked with hefty chains and thick padlocks. If there were people in there, then breaking through the first line of defence wasn’t their favoured option–they didn’t like other survivors, no, and they didn’t work with them without good reason, but they weren’t in the business of sabotaging them, either.

“Hobie,” Miguel beckoned, muffling the chains’ clanking while holding up one of the locks.

The young man smirked and flicked his old lock picking set from his pocket. “Don’t mind if I do, coz.”

He unlocked everything in record time. Miguel thought of you for a moment, and wondered if you’d taught the young man a few nefarious tricks since you, too, were an expert sneak. But Miguel pushed the thought aside as they all carefully, slowly, painstakingly unwrapped the linked metal from the fence, and pushed it open with just as much care to keep the noise to a minimum. It’d be a shame to ring the dinner bell in such an untouched place.

They relocked one of the padlocks for peace of mind before wandering towards the front entrance. The doors’ windows were boarded neatly and meticulously, Miguel noticed first. He crouched down and noted something blocking the small gap between the ground and the door, but the faintest reach of light still reached through the few cracks that remained.

“Lights’re on. Front’s boarded,” he sighed before backing up. “Might be a different way inside. Looks like there might be people in–”

“Miguel!” Gwen whispered. He looked her way, and saw her point to a decrepit shed nestled up against the side of the building, right underneath a large window. Shoved against it laid a single, heavy pot flipped on its end, serving as a sort of stool to get up on. But the lack of snow on the newfound path gave Miguel pause.

“I’ll check it out,” Gwen said before nimbly scampering up the side of the shed.

Miguel frowned. “Gwen–”

“Relax, I’m just gonna look.” But Miguel did not relax, especially not when she rose on her tiptoes on that shitty, rickety shed roof and peered through the window before her eyes grew wide with a soft woah.

“Whatcha got, Gwendy?” Hobie asked, approaching the shed himself.

“You two–” Miguel warned. He looked around cautiously, his body aching with primal instinct–they weren’t alone. There had to be someone else here. Gwen and Hobie had to realize that. They were smarter than this. They wouldn’t do anything stupid. They wouldn’t be hypnotized by whatever was in there and throw caution to the wind to get it. Right? Right.

…Right?

Excited, Gwen smiled and glanced at the two before looking back at whatever she saw. “There’re–there’s…trees? And bushes with veggies and–and wow, you were right, Miguel.”

“Well, I say we hop in there and snag a few to bring back, yeah?” Hobie suggested. “Reckon they grew on their own?”

“No,” Miguel scolded. “They didn’t. Come down, right now. We need more people for this.”

“I’m juuust gonna...” Gwen reached for the window, and Miguel’s anxiety peaked.

“Gwen.”

“Just a little–” The window groaned as it popped open.

They froze. They died as statues for a single, long moment, rejecting the need to breathe, letting their eyes freeze solid in winter’s mercy while their ears pricked, searching like the alert deer suspecting death stalking nearby after a misstep on a brittle branch.

One minute passed.

Then two minutes.

Three minutes.

But the birds kept chirping, the world kept spinning, and Ares didn’t come to collect their battle-worn souls.

Gwen looked at her group with a nervous smile, a guilty thing that said, “oops?”

Miguel was furious. But now was not the time to argue or yell. He could let her father handle that back at Alchemax.

But someone grabbed her, and yanked her inside.

Hobie didn’t hesitate. He jumped up to where Gwen once stood and took the plunge after her, scrambling up into the window, but that same someone shoved him, sending him plummeting down to the frigid concrete. Miguel rushed to his side when he hit the pavement with a choked-back groan.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Miguel rolled him on his back. “Hobie, you fucking idiot.” Miguel’s panic ebbed just the slightest bit when he saw the punk blinking away stars instead of losing consciousness.

Click.

Electricity burst through him. Miguel ripped his revolver free of its holster and returned aim up at the shadow in the window. The tired winter sun illuminated a barrel of black metal, and the small, tawny hand holding it steady. A child. A kid. He was pointing a gun at a kid.

“We don’t want any problems, kid,” Miguel called up. He tried to relax, but he couldn’t; children who grew up in this world were ruthless. They were cruel, unrelenting, and unapologetic towards their targets. He couldn’t blame them. It was all they’d known, all they’d been taught. But they were only as cruel as their teachers made them. Some of them still held on to shreds of humanity.

And judging by that unwavering hand, Miguel feared their adversary was at least a confident shot if not a full-blooded monster.

“Yeah, c’mon,” Hobie groaned. “We just–we just want some seeds ‘n shit, ‘at’s all.”

The small hand faltered a bit. Seems she still possessed sympathy. But a voice, deep and thread-bare, called to her. She looked over her shoulder for a second, before pulling the window closed and locking the latch behind her.

Panic lanced through Miguel as anger possessed Hobie. “I’m gonna snap that kid in half–” but the creaky hinges of the front door opening cut him off. Miguel aimed toward it, and Hobie did the same once he got himself together, but then–then Gwen peeked out.

“Guys!” Her hand fluttered and ushered them to come. “You’re not gonna believe this! It’s–”

“Daddy?” A young, gentle voice asked, and Miguel’s gaze snapped to her. To her. To the little girl peeking out from around Gwen. To his baby, to his tiny world, long lost but never forgotten. To–

“Gabriella,” Miguel breathed.

“Ho-ly shit,” Hobie commented.

Gabi’s eyes flooded with emotion. She sprinted to him, nearly slipping and tripping in the snow before jumping into his arms and holding on tight. She was so much older now, so much bigger; her tiny face used to bury into his stomach, but now she had her head tucked up against his chest, staining his jacket with heavy tears.

“It’s okay, mija, it’s okay. I’m here, Daddy’s got you.” Miguel kissed the top of her head. He fought back tears of his own, but did so so pitifully with broken, bewildered laughs and shaking breaths. He pulled back and looked down at her face, her beautiful, beautiful face, and carefully wiped away the wet trails freezing on her cheeks. “I–you–L-Look at you. How’d you get so big?”

Gabi smiled and sniffled as she wiped her eyes. “I-I, um, finally ate my veggies.” She took a breath to try and still the quiver in her lungs between thoughts. “Y-You have so much grey in your hair now!”

A few beats of warm laughter left Miguel. “Yeah, no thanks to you. Spent all this time worrying about you, kid.” His hand, so used to killing and defending, trembled as he brushed flyaways out of her face. "Listen, I–I'm gonna take you somewhere safe, okay? You won't be alone anymore."

Gabriella blinked. Her small hands clutched his jacket. "What? But–"

"She's not alone."

Miguel almost didn’t look. He didn’t really believe what he just heard. But when he risked it, when he managed to wrench his gaze away from his daughter and back to the heavenly light of the front entrance, he saw you. The man who'd been haunting him for years. The man who'd been keeping him warm at night. You, his lover. You, his husband.

(You, the man he betrayed.)

"She hasn't been alone," you said, the words punctuated by hazy clouds of warmth–proof you were alive, that you weren't an illusion, not this time. "I promise."

You looked so, so tired.

But Gwen was grinning, and even Hobie smiled with a lack of irony as he walked to you and gave you a hug.

"My man! Officer tall, sunny and handsome in the flesh!" He clapped his hand hard against your back but you hardly wavered. You offered a smile, and hugged him back, short and sweet.

"Hey, Hobie. Behaving?"

"Eh. Sometimes."

"Good enough for me." You let him go and scanned over all the survivors, your eyes not lingering on anyone for too long. "Head inside. It's warm, there's food. We'll talk. Gabs?"

"Okay!" She hurried to corral everyone inside. "In, in, in, we gotta lock up for the night." Her gaze turned to Miguel as he hesitated, still watching you with glazed eyes. "Daddy, are you–?"

"I'll be there in a second, mija." And, thankfully, his baby girl read the room better than he could have at that age, and let you two be.

You looked over your shoulder, so like a predator making sure his cubs were inside and safe before prowling through the night. A man enchanted, Miguel followed you, watching you re-lock the gates they'd slipped through, and lagging behind while you checked the perimeter with thorough hands. Miguel would give anything to have those hands on him right now.

He didn’t know where to start. "(Name), I–"

"You said you could take her somewhere safe, right?" You asked before you turned that timid, unsure gaze back to him. "You meant that?"

The words took too long to register. "I–yeah, I meant it. I mean it." Miguel forged courage out of trepidation and used it to fuel his journey to you. "We have a colony. The old Alchemax building, you remember?"

"The one that was supposed to get torn down?" You wondered.

Miguel nodded. "Yeah, that one."

You kept walking. "Didn't we fuck in your office there?"

A smile threatened Miguel as he followed like a lost puppy. "We did."

"Ah. Always liked that building. Liked that desk, too." You shrugged. "Comfy, all things considered."

Miguel hooked his finger into your belt loop and pulled you closer to him. "Then you'll be happy to hear it hasn't changed."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You almost laughed, Miguel heard it. But you pulled away from him, and wordlessly finished up the perimeter sweep.

"You should stay the night," you mumbled on the way back. "Pretty sure it's gonna snow."

"Might make it harder to get back tomorrow," Miguel said, following you inside and watching you bar the door again. "We came here by foot."

"No truck?"

"None."

"I'll take you back, then. I got a truck."

"You make it sound like you're not coming." Anxiety gripped Miguel. "I'm not losing you again." He held onto your arm tightly.

You looked troubled, glancing between the hand on your arm and Miguel's eyes. "Did Dana die?" You asked.

Sickness coiled in Miguel's stomach. "What?" But his tone was too deep, too dark.

You shook your head. "No, I–I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm just–"

"We both know why you said that," Miguel said through clenched teeth.

The way you looked at him, eyes full of bristling hatred for the woman who'd stolen away everything from you, set alight an ancient sort of fear in Miguel’s core. It was so like that night, the one where you'd found out.

Gabi was still at daycare. You were at work. Miguel was supposed to be at work, too. It could have been the perfect crime, one full of sinful lust and infinite rapture.

But you came home early.

You didn't even say a word when you walked into the bedroom and found him tangled in the sheets with Dana, with the woman he'd convinced you to think was a surrogate, not someone he was fooling around with and just so happened to knock up. You had that same stare, rotting with hatred, infested with betrayal, all for the woman underneath your husband. Miguel loathed that look, but he found some sick joy in hurting you, too. Because he hated you, for some reason.

Dana laughed when you walked out, some smart comment about how pathetic you were dancing off her plush, scarlet-stained lips. Miguel scoffed a laugh, too. You really were a coward, weren't you?

(But you weren't.)

Miguel finished with Dana, and she left. He heard her say something to you, something light and playful and damn hurtful, but Miguel didn't say anything. Nor did you.

He found you in the living room after he'd pulled some clothes on like it mattered. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, staring hard at your profile while you graced the ground with an empty gaze. Your hands clasped and unclasped slowly. Your head nodded shallowly.

"You're really not gonna say anything?" Miguel goaded.

"What am I supposed to say?" You offered.

Something. Anything.

Miguel laughed, mocking, and sat down across from you, on a mirrored couch, across the glass coffee table you'd picked out together.

"How long?" You managed.

Miguel hummed in thought. "How old's Gabi?"

That got a reaction out of you, something Miguel craved so deeply; your eyelids fluttered in disbelief, and your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath. You looked hurt. You looked like you were feeling something.

"The prenup says you keep what's yours, I keep what's mine, yeah?"

Miguel's smile faded. "What?"

"Gifts fall into that category. I’m keeping the Jeep."

"Wait–"

"I'll find a lawyer in the morning." You got up, and Miguel snapped.

"You're not even going to fucking ask why?" He yelled, pursuing you into the bedroom. "You don't wanna know why I'm fucking someone else? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

You ignored him. Miguel's temper flared.

"Fine! Fine, fuck it, I'll tell you. You don't excite me anymore. You don't try, you don't wanna fuck me, you don't wanna do anything anymore–"

"Miguel–"

"You're not the same man I married. What happened to you? When'd you get so–so pathetic and weak?" He took a pause to breathe. Or maybe gasp, more like, as the stabs of panic started to overtake him. "I hate you. You can't leave me."

He braced on the door, trying to get his bearings on his own, but you were quick to his side. With a strength Miguel loved and adored, you eased him down and fell in slow-motion with his shaky frame secured in your arms.

“It’s okay, Miggs. You’re okay.” Your fingers combed through his hair slowly. You held him tight, and convinced him to breathe with you. In and out. In and out. In and out. He breathed to the rhythm of your heart, as it turned out. Slow and steady. Hurt and bleeding.

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

And he believed you.

That’s why he took off the ring, and left first thing in the morning.

Hobie and Gwen passed out after eating their fill of stew. Miguel was beyond annoyed, but couldn't find it in himself to wake them up and leave, not when you were undecided about going with them, but very much wanting him to take Gabi.

Honestly, he didn't think you'd still be hurting after all this time. Dana was something of the past, a succubus that followed the steps of opportunity and wealth wherever it may go. That's why she wasn't with the group anymore. That's why she left him when he needed her most, and jumped in a truck with strangers while he bled out, alone, in the solitude of an abandoned pet store.

Chills raked his spine, breaking off chunks of bone when he thought about it. He'd never been so fucking scared in his life. He wished he could have called you to come save him. He wanted you to be the one to walk in there and find him, crying and dying, because you would have stuck by his side through all of those moments; if he hadn't let his emotions get the best of him, if he hadn't made so many stupid decisions, he would've been with you. If he died that day, it would have been in your arms.

"Hey," you murmured with a gentle touch to his shoulder. Miguel jumped, and your eyes softened. "You okay?"

Miguel swallowed thickly as he nodded. He looked around, grounding his mind through the touch of your hand, the duo snoring and slumped against bags of soil, and the gentle flickering of the propane campfire keeping the space warm. You taking a seat beside him helped, too.

Copper eyes took a moment to pace around the old garden centre; true to the outside, it was more or less untouched on the inside, just more cluttered with haphazard barricades and half-done projects. Miguel watched his ghost walk through the isles, once filled with tropical plants, but now replaced with beautiful, healthy trees raised by your hand. It was no wonder Gabi grew up so strong.

Speaking of--"Where's Gabi?"

"She's in the next room. Watering some seedlings." You smiled for a fraction of a second. "Putting her green thumb to the test. Tryna show her old man up, I guess."

Miguel smiled though his eyes stung. "Sounds like an O'hara."

"Yeah, I thought so, too."

You shared a few broken beats of laughter before silence fell, just like the snow beyond the door. Then, shyly, like you'd never done it before, your arm reached around his waist. Miguel didn't hesitate to lean his weight into you, though, and that arm didn't wait to pull him in closer right after.

"So. You still hate me?" Miguel dared to ask before the dancing cinders.

Your hand smoothed up and down his side thoughtfully, soothingly. Miguel melted against you more with a sweet, content sigh.

"I never hated you," you whispered in return. "Never."

Miguel made a little sound, something caught between surprise and relief, while your words sunk deep into his thoughts. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t hate him.

“Then come back with us.”

“Miguel–”

“There’s no reason to stay here,” Miguel bit out, frustration egging him on. “We have shelter, we have water, showers, rooms, beds–we have everything.”

“What about food?” You asked quietly.

But Miguel didn’t have an answer; food was the reason they were coming out here, to find more ways to create sustainable living, to try and make life work again. He couldn’t help but look at the trees and bushes bursting with colourful fruits and vegetables, showing off years of dedication and hard work through the literal fruits of your labour. Miguel didn’t know how hard it was to get there. He didn’t think he wanted to know.

“...It’s a work in progress,” he grumbled instead of admitting the truth. “But we could use your help.”

Your warm fingers dipped under layers of clothes to find the searing skin of your past lover. To Miguel, it almost ached. He hadn't been touched in so long. He hadn't felt your hands on his bare skin for even longer. It intoxicated him, filled his mind and blood with wants and needs–things only you could fulfil for him.

"I won't leave you hangin', promise that. I just–I need to figure out how this is all gonna work." You looked around the room, taking stock. "Lots of gear we'll need, lots of shit to move. I'll send you back with whatever's already picked. Not worried about the cold with those. The trees are another story, don't want 'em to go dormant while–"

Miguel kissed you. Sloppily, and wantonly, but with genuinity. Your hands scrambled to hold onto his massive frame when he leaned into you and almost knocked you off the discounted garden bench. This time, you were the one who made a cute, surprised noise.

And you were the one who kissed him the second time, but it was smaller and shier coming from you, not so eager to consume like Miguel. Your calloused hand held the side of his neck, and your thumb ran along his jawline thoughtfully when you parted, noses bumping and nudging together in a weak nuzzle.

"I guess you don't hate me anymore?" Your whisper ached Miguel's heart.

"I never did," he confessed.

"Then why did you say it?"

"I don't know." He traced the curve of your lips with tired, weighted eyes. Your cupid's bow had a nice shape to it, so soft and pillowy, meant just for him. "But I didn't mean it."

"I need a better answer than that." You swallowed down what Miguel could only guess to be a tincture of fear and sorrow, or maybe rage and betrayal. "I've lived with–with that for a long, long time." Your eyes glistened with unspent grief, suddenly. "I need more than 'I don't know.'"

Miguel's heart lurched. He hadn't bore witness to the consequences of his selfishness before, not with you, not during his affair with Dana. He'd only seen you grow distant across that coffee table far before that god-awful night. And back then, he wanted a reaction. He wanted something like this out of you, but now, he couldn't fathom why.

"Mi amor, I–it's hard to put into words, and I was a stupid kid, and–hey, hey, don't--don't cry." He wiped away the bravest tear to fall first before you turned away, back to the flickering blaze, and rubbed your face roughly.

"Here's my guess," you muttered. "You wanted to fuck, and I couldn’t–I just–it was hard for me. Or maybe it wasn’t hard, maybe that’s a better way to put it.” You rubbed your face, and held your head in your hands. "The, ah, the medication, the anti-depressants or whatever, they were fucking me up. I didn’t wanna fuck you. I didn’t wanna do anything. Then I was in training to join the force. Wasn't home, and when I was, I was too tired to take care of you and Gabi, so I focused on her. And that made you go back to Dana. Again."

Bile scorched the back of Miguel’s throat. "You knew." A realisation, not a question. "You knew we–that she and I–"

"Yeah, that she wasn't a surrogate.” You picked your head up from your hands and stared at the fire, unseeing. “Because she was dating Gabe at the time, and you were with me." You sighed and let a deep, venomous grief finally escape from the space between your lungs, from the spot where that thing had festered like a disease for too many years.

"I could let it go the first time, turn a blind eye because she gave me–gave us–our daughter, but–the second time? With all the shit you two said?" You shook your head. "I just--I couldn't–I wish you'd just told me what was wrong. I wish I'd told you what was going on with me, too, 'cause I know all the shit that happened is my fault, too.”

"Dad?” Gabi's small, hollow voice rang. The both of you turned to her, but you were the one who got up.

“Baby,” You said with a hushed tone, somehow so comforting but so afraid. “Hey, you done with the watering?”

“Uh, yeah, but…um, is everything okay?” Her gaze flicked between you and Miguel. He could almost hear her little mind firing on all cylinders as she tried to parse what they were talking about. “You look sad.”

You crouched before her and took her hands in yours. “We’re talking through some things, honey, it’s alright. We’re figuring things out.”

A light of worried realization illuminated Gabriella’s gaze. Miguel fidgeted and futzed with his clothes as he looked away, unsure of how to deal with her accusatory revelation. How much did she know? Did you tell her anything? No, no, you wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t dirty her memory of her father like that. You were a good man. You were a better man than Miguel.

“Oh,” she whispered.

You nodded and brushed some hair free from her freckled face. "We’ll be alright, baby. You just get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. Lots of loading up to do."

Gabi whispered the softest okay before giving you a hug. She paused for a moment, before running to Miguel and throwing her arms around him for a few precious seconds before running off to the loft to sleep.

You sighed, then, and Miguel did too.

You turned to him. “Look, you–I don’t know why I’m starting shit right after you…you wander back into my life,” you murmured, going back to Miguel and straddling the bench before taking his hand and squeezing. “I’m sorry. And I love you. You know that, right?”

That pang came back in Miguel’s chest, but this time, it was warmer.

December 2nd 3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel squeezed your hand back and this time, he was the one tearing up. “Mi amor, you don’t need to–you’ve done enough apologizing already.”

"Miggs, don't say that. I–"

"Stop. Stop it." Your husband straddled the bench, too, and scooted closer to you until he was more or less in your lap, his heavy thighs draped over your own.

"But–" you started, and stopped as Miguel cupped your face with both hands and squished your cheeks. You sighed and leaned into his touch when it eased up. "Baby–"

"Me arrepiento de lo que hice," he whispered to you, "espero algún día puedas perdonarme." He let go of your face, and found your hand to kiss its back. "Te amo."

You smiled. Something real, something happy. Something that stayed around for more than a few seconds, and made the corners of your eyes crinkle with the beautiful way you'd aged. Then, you kissed him.

"Te amo," you murmured back, your lips still touching his. "We'll figure this out. Work it out. We have the time." Your lips pressed against his again. "I'm not giving up on us."

This time, Miguel cried.

It took some time to transport everything to Alchemax. It took a little bit longer to get you there, too.

But you got there eventually, ready to stay for good, and ready to put Miguel's mind at ease.

Your old friends and coworkers greeted you, clasping their hands on your back and hugging you tight until you couldn't breathe anymore. You smiled, too, and asked them how they were holding up, if your husband was keeping things in line. You couldn't help but remind them that you in fact hand the handsomest and smartest partner in the world, too.

They let you get acquainted with the building pretty quickly, probably seeing the haggard, exhausted state you'd lived in for five years and wanting to let you unwind for the first time in a long time. And that called for a hot shower, food, and some sleep.

"I'll take you to your room," Miguel told you as you both left the common area.

"My room?" You retorted, sounding mighty confused and damn near insulted.

Miguel blinked and looked at you. "Yeah. There's enough for–" Oh.

"What's yours is mine, yeah?" You said, stern and a little bit spicy. "Then your room is mine. And your ass is–"

"Câllate," Miguel cut you off with a smile. "I'll take you to our room."

He led you there with a bit of a spring to his step, and you kept up with as much enthusiasm. The room was nothing special, featuring nothing more beyond a mediocre bed, uninspired furnishings, and random knick knacks Miguel had left here over the years. But it was home. Your shared home.

"Huh." You looked around the room. "I think that coffee table woulda looked nice here."

Miguel scoffed a laugh and rested his hand on the small of your back. "You think so? I think it'd clash."

"Yeah, well, you have bad taste, hun."

"Oh, wow, you're really gonna say that when I'm married to you?"

"I'm the one who confessed first. I'm the one who proposed. Pretty sure it's safe to say I picked you." You leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “And I have good taste.”

Miguel felt his face get hot. "Shut up and take a shower."

"Your wish is my command." You set your pack down by the bed before sliding open the door to the ensuite. Miguel watched you like a hawk, his prey drive skyrocketing when he caught swaths of your bare skin peeking out from the washroom. He wanted to watch more, but you deserved a little privacy.

"Oh," you said, peeking out from the doorway. "I, uh, kept my phone through everything. There're some photos of Gabi, if you wanna check it out." You vanished back into the bathroom and Miguel heard the water turn on. "It's in my pack! In the shitty little phone pocket thing."

"Yeah, I–okay, I'll take a look, thanks." Miguel smiled, and rummaged through what you'd brought with you before pulling out that beat up phone with the charger still plugged into it and kept together with bandages of tape. Colour him impressed.

He sat on the edge of the bed and went straight for the camera roll. There were loads of new pictures ranging from Gabriella when she was littler, to pictures of animals that Miguel guessed Gabi had a hand in.

There were old pictures, too. Mostly of Miguel, as embarrassing as that was, but the baby photos took over his reign once that perfect little girl entered your life. It made Miguel wish he’d taken more photos, that he hadn’t thought it was too cliche and embarrassing to capture every moment. He used to say shit like, “Do you have to take a photo? Can’t you just live in the moment?” but you’d stick your tongue out, give him a pinch or a bite on his cheek or something else in retribution. Because you didn’t care, you wanted to look back on little memories.

He scanned through photos until he caught one that sent a rush of red to his features; it was of him, on his back, eyes teary and face alight with a fierce blush as you, well, obviously fucked him stupid. It was the only one of its kind. Maybe you forgot to delete it? Maybe–

The videos. Oooh, now that had Miguel excited. Miguel scanned through the other folders, but found nothing, much to his dismay and relief, seeing as Gabi probably had free access to your phone.

But then, he spied a locked folder.

The first password he tried worked (your anniversary because duh. You were such a sap), and a whole catalogue of videos and pictures were unleashed.

Miguel glanced up at the washroom door before he skimmed through. He remembered all of these places (but the geo tags helped, too. Christ, you were so organised with your exhibitionist porn), ranging from IKEA after closing, to an abandoned amusement park. He still didn’t know how you picked out these places, or how you knew how to get into them without getting in heaps of trouble with the authorities.

He tapped on a video and bumped the volume up a couple notches, just so he could barely hear; it was him on his knees, on a rusty old ferris wheel, staring up at you like you were God himself as he gripped your thighs and did his damndest to give you the blowie of a lifetime. Your sighs and soft moans rippled through the speakers like waves lapping at the shoreline. Present Miguel rubbed his mouth, worrying at his bottom lip before licking the dryness away.

“Good boy,” You whispered on the other side of the camera. Your hand came into view and carded through dark locks before cupping his cheek. Miguel of the past turned into your touch and took your thumb into his mouth while his hand took over stroking your length from base to tip over, and over again.

Miguel swiped to the next video. He was on his back this time, in your shared bedroom, if that duvet cover was to be trusted, while your fingers plunged deep inside of his heat and tore loud moans and gasps from him. He remembered this; you called it an experiment before you bullied his prostate with three, thick digits.

"How's that feel, gorgeous?" You purred. Miguel swallowed thickly, both in the video and in the now. His hesitant hand crept down his thigh slowly, like he was trying to hide it from himself and call it an accident as he reached to palm himself through his jeans while he watched. He almost felt guilty. But that's what made it better.

"Good. Really fucking good." His past self rocked down against your fingers, choking on a needy whine as his eyes slid open, and found you. "I need you, mi amor. Please–"

"I know, babe, I know. I'm almost done here," you promised. You tilted the camera down to his stretched hole to catch what you did next. "Then you can have whatever you want from me."

You pressed your pinky in, then, and Miguel of the present bit his lip as his shocked gasp and shaky cry pierced through the speakers. Miguel still couldn't describe the deranged pleasure he got from having half your hand in his ass, nearly to the point of fisting him.

Miguel switched to a different video quickly. The next one was in the Jeep you loved so much. You were both out camping for the weekend, something you loved and Miguel had learned to love; that stupid red truck became home for so many long weekends, it became host to long hours of napping and intimacy, it turned into one of Miguel's favourite places.

The video started with you adjusting the camera and squinting at it while Miguel’s younger self bitched and moaned in the background.

"I'm just making sure the tripod's working 'n shit, babe, just gimme a sec!" You whined back.

"My dick's getting soft," Miguel threatened, so blasé but annoyed at the same time. "Come on, viejo."

You pulled away from the camera, grinning smug as a fox, and scooted back to your lover. His past self was lounging, hair and clothes already a mess from the prologue to this movie, as he watched you.

"I'm here, I'm here." You kissed him, and Miguel could almost taste the s’mores on your tongue, the coffee on your lips. "Sorry, just wanna make sure it's perfect."

"Oh, yeah, 'course. Gotta make sure your indie porno looks good."

"Hey, one day we're gonna look back on this! It's worth it, baby, trust me."

"Whatever. Just kiss me," Miguel demanded with a laugh. And you did as you were told, kissing his lips, then down his chest, then–

"Knew you'd like watching 'em back."

Miguel jumped, nearly dropping the phone as he jerked his hand away from his clothed bulge. "I, uh–what?" he asked dumbly as he stared at your built frame leaning against the doorframe. God, you were still an impressive specimen. He wished that loose towel would just drop from your hips already.

"Our, ah, home videos." You grinned, so much like that fox from the past, and paced to Miguel. "Nice looking back, ain't it?" You cupped the underside of his jaw and tilted his face up. "Got you a lil' excited, yeah?"

You weren't wrong. With a hammering heart, burning skin, and tingling nerves, he couldn't deny he was stuck deep in a pool of desire and need. And now with you handling him like this–fuck. He was in trouble.

Miguel nodded weakly. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Just a little."

“I’ll help.” You eased onto the bed and took great care in settling behind him. "Let the video play," you whispered against his neck before leaving a possessive kiss.

Miguel leaned back into you. He watched you pop open his jeans and slip a hand down, down, down, until your warm palm met his aching length. A shuddered breath escaped him when you felt him up, pulled him free, squeezing and stroking in all the right spots; it'd been so long since anyone touched him. It'd been so long since he touched himself.

"I, ah, don’t think we–did we lock the door?" Miguel heard himself moan in the video, and he dared another look; your head bobbed between his thighs while fingers pistoned into him. He wondered if you would do that to him again. Maybe tonight.

"Nope.”

“Shit.”

"Mmmh. You want me to stop jerking you off so you can lock it?"

"No."

You chuckled. "Okay."

Your hand still worked him slowly and thoughtfully while lovers of the past filled in the rest of the silence. Miguel's hips bucked, and you hummed, so pleased with yourself. Pleased with yourself for pleasing him. Something Miguel found self-value in.

"I think I, uh, I think you mighta been right," he murmured to the air, trying to control his voice. Your gentle hum of intrigue spurred him on. "I think I need you to fuck me more than I realized. Need you to want me, ‘n…take me."

“Yeah?” You asked before sinking a bite into his neck. “Figured you had somethin’ of a praise kink. Makes sense, in hindsight.”

Miguel gasped when you picked up the pace. “Fuck–I’d call it…mmmmn, I’d call it a-a love language–”

“Huh, didn’t know there were six love languages–”

“Sh-shut up, shut up, you know what I–what I mean–!” Miguel bit down hard on the inside of his mouth as his hips rocked up into your cruel, talented hand. He was close. How embarrassing. “I, uh…physical touch. Words of affirmation.”

“‘Needing my husband to fuck me and tell me I’m sexy.’” Miguel moaned and dug his head back into your shoulder as you chuckled. “That sound about right?”

“Viejo,” he whined, setting the phone aside to be forgotten. “I–”

“I know, baby; show me how hard this love language makes you cum.”

It only took a few more strokes for Miguel to come undone. His teeth clattered together as he strained to keep his voice on lock as a forgotten rapture ripped the air from his lungs and electrocuted every vessel in his body. He clung to the other arm that’d come to wrap around his chest and hold him against you while you worked him through the motions, slowing down, accommodating the way his body reacted to the blinding pleasure. There were words said, probably encouraging ones muttered into his shoulder, but Miguel didn’t have the mind to parse the meaning of what you’d said.

“Y’know,” you tried again when Miguel’s mind levelled out, “I think I have a praise kink, too. But a complimentary one. One where I like praising you.” You rested your chin on his shoulder and hummed. “Hm. Who woulda thought.”

“Hah. Good to know you’re still annoying,” Miguel said with a chuckle. He scrunched his nose up when you licked the side of his face. “(Name)--”

“No.” You bit his cheek this time, and he sighed. You did, however, feel his softening cock start to come back to life again. “Want me to lock the door now, old man?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. You got off the bed, letting the towel fall where it may, and Miguel finally gazed upon his lost treasure. “And set up your phone. We need to update the archives.”

You grinned when you turned back to him, and Miguel felt so at ease.

There were still things to work out: the mental illness you hid from him, the cheating Miguel tried to hide from you, the little secrets you both kept wedged in the darkest cracks of your minds. But with you with him, the man who refused to give up on their bond and their love, Miguel felt safe indulging in mindless pleasure you so generously gave to him. Neither of you were about to seal away the past again, but if you could share in the good of your relationship while acknowledging the bad, then hope wasn’t lost; it was found in the moment you’d pulled his old wedding band from your pack, and slipped it back on Miguel’s finger that night, murmuring the words you said in a church so long ago:

“Till death do us part.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr #smut

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rancidpancakebatter · 2 years ago

Text

"Uhluhu" - [M.M.]

Pairings: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

Summary: Matt tells he loves you, and you want to say it back

Word Count: 1.6k words

Content: Like nothing. Safe for all.

( Masterlist )

A/N: Sorry, I've been on a bit of a hiatus. Finals are coming up and it's super stressful so I haven't gotten to write much. I found this in my drafts so I'll let yall have it. Hopefully, it will hold you over for a bit.

You had been dating Matt for several months now. You met him as the devil first. He was limping through the alley, and you heard him curse as he tripped over a trash can. When you looked out your window, you saw him collapse face-first in grime. You called out to him but heard no response. So against your better judgement, you climbed down your fire escape to check on the stranger.

Matt woke up with a familiar feeling of deja-vu. He woke up on a soft towel draped over a couch, shirtless, with gentle hands tending to his wounds. His waking up was not peaceful in any way. He bolted upright with a large gasp ripping from his chest. You fell back on the floor in surprise at his outburst.

He rattled off a lot of questions, and it took you a moment to respond to them as you tried to coax him into lying back down. You told him your name, where you had found him, and that he was about to bleed out from a bullet wound.

“Luckily for you, it was a clean shot. I don't know how to fish out a bullet, but I was able to find a decent tutorial for stitches. You should be fine if you rest.”

Matt learned to trust you over time. You never asked for his identity or pushed him to talk about his past. He respected you for that.

One night you got a text from him. It was only an address. You made your way up in the shaky elevator and knocked tentatively on the door. You were surprised when a blind man answered and greeted you by name.

He asked you a bunch of questions about The Black Mask and what you knew of him, but you refused to answer, going as far as to threaten him. He chuckled at you as he opened a beer.

“Trust me, honey, I’m not someone you wanna pick a fight with.”

You bristled at the nickname, but something about his voice was familiar. You raised the candle you grabbed from the coffee table higher, ready to swing if he got closer.

He walked past you and opened up an armoire in the corner. You couldn’t see what he was doing. He threw something at you that you struggled to catch it. You ran your fingers over the familiar dark material. He heard your heart race before it started to settle again, and he knew then that you had connected the dots.

“Really? A candle? What was your plan there?” He asked with a teasing condescension you’ve come to love.

You chuckled as you set it back down. “I was gonna use that right hook you taught me.”

It wasn’t long until he asked you out, the next day if you remembered correctly. He introduced you to his friends one night at Josie’s. Foggy and Karen adored you, and It was funny to see Matt’s lifelong friend tease him.

“I mean honestly, what do you see in this ruffian?”

“I dunno Foggy, I guess he’s charming. In his own…weird…brooding way”

Dating Matt has changed your life. You have never known true admiration- devotion- like his. Anything you ask for, he would deliver (if he had the financial means to do so). He had been working on a healthy life balance for a while and with you, he felt he had it. And he felt the need to pay you back for that in any way he could. Flowers, home-cooked meals, cuddles, you name it.

You were a well-known writer for The Bulletin. You often got to work from home. For the past month, you’ve been working from Matt’s. He had joked a few times about how you “moved in,” and if he noticed the way your heart raced when he said that, he didn’t mention it.

You had been burned in the past. Pretty severally. So your relationship with Matt seemed almost unreal a lot of the time. While you didn’t have the crushing catholic guilt Matt did, you still had some baggage you were carrying around.

Last week Matt told you that he loved you. He assured you that you didn’t have to say it back, that he still meant it either way. He’s said it every night as you drifted off to sleep and every morning as he left for work since then. Those three little words.

You wanted to say them back- you really really did. You knew that if you spoke them, you would mean it; it would be the truth. Truthfully you did. But what a terrifying truth. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You wanted to move in officially. You want to wake up to him every day. You wanted the good and the bad and the ugly. You wanted him, devil and all. But no matter how many hours you spent hyping yourself up, when he came home, you just couldn’t do it.

You decided to change that today. You couldn’t let him go any longer thinking you don’t feel the same way. You could say it; you had to say it.

You spent all evening cooking chicken piccata with homemade noodles. You went to the farmers market this morning to get fresh, local ingredients because you know Matt can taste the preservatives on grocery produce. You even baked fresh bread, made fruit tarts, and currently, you were tossing a salad.

You had put on some of Matt’s vinyls, and when he walked in, he was almost overwhelmed. He could smell your cooking from the front entrance, and it only got closer as he approached his apartment. He could hear you humming and singing along once he got to his floor, and your gentle footsteps could be heard against the kitchen tiles.

You heard the door open and were sure Matt could hear your heart rate pick up. You walked away from the stove and saw him taking off his coat.

“Matty!”

You ran into his arms, and he didn’t hesitate to catch you, spinning you around and holding you close. You melted into his embrace as you buried your head into his neck, taking a deep breath and letting his woodsy cologne wash over you. His hands were pressed flat against your back; you could feel his warmth soaking you to the bone. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Your sauce is starting to stick.” You could hear the smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you and liked to rile you up.

“Oh shit,” you mumbled as you dropped down from his arms and raced back into the kitchen to stir.

He followed after you at a much more leisurely pace, leaning against the island as you worked.

“Let’s see here, I smell…chicken, lemons, garlic, raspberries, bread, parsley, and…is that fresh capers?”

You grinned, “Yes, bloodhound, these are fresh capers. I wanted to make you a nice dinner. Now go get changed and comfy. It’s almost ready.”

You felt his hands on your waist and leaned back into him on instinct. He took the opportunity to place a kiss on your temple.

“On it boss.”

He stepped into the bedroom, and you began setting up the island. You arranged the plates and placed the glasses of water (and an opened beer next to Matt’s). By the time he returned, you were taking the rolls out of the oven.

The power Matthew Murdock held was entirely too dangerous. He emerged wearing a v-neck and his trusty grey sweats. You knew he felt your stare. He could probably hear your heart rate pick up at the sight of him. His smile grew into that smirk you knew very well, and you knew he knew.

Dinner was great and went off without a hitch. He told you about his day, and you did the same. You talked about big and small, and all the things of the world. He continues to complement your cooking, praising you after every bite. You brought out the fruit tarts, and the both of you munched on them happily.

Matt set his fork down and looked at you curiously. “What’s all this about?”

You frightened confusion, and Matt decided to play along. “The food was wonderful, but why did you make a three-course dinner? What’s the occasion?”

You set your fork down, wiped your mouth with the napkin sitting you your lap, and place it on the counter. Matt could sense your anxiety and wondered if something was wrong.

“There’s no… occasion, per se. It’s more of an announcement.” Matt tilted his head, and you continued.

“I uh-” You cleared your throat, trying to force the words out. “I…”

Matt was patient, silently reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. His own anxiety melted when he felt your pulse slow.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why it’s so hard to say,” you admit with an air of defeat.

A knowing smile makes its way onto Matt’s face.

“You want me to guess?” he asked, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze.

“No, no. I want to say it. I want you to hear it come from me.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You had been practising saying it all day, saying the words over and over again.

You forced out the words on your exhale. “Uhluhu”

Matt tilted his head, ”What?”

You took another breath and squeezed his hand, “I love you.”

His face split into a grin. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. You suddenly felt light.

“I love you, Mathew Murdock. I love you.”

You couldn’t stop saying it.

“I love you too.” He said, oh so quietly, but his words dripped with their truth.

Tag List: @barbecuetiddy, @heejinw0rld, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @purple-amaranthe, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz,

#rancid writes #marvel #daredevil #daredevil netflix #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil imagine #daredevil blurb #daredevil fluff

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devilart2199-aibi · 7 months ago

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Transformers Skybound Reading update: Issues 6 & 7!! 📚

As a Soundwave enjoyer, these were crazy. Thoughts and spoilers below ⤵️

I gotta say I feel like someone on the team likes Soundwave haha. This fella feels like he always gets the short end of the stick. Always incredibly efficient, loyal and quiet, but never rewarded. But in this one!! Soundwave steps up! I had to go over it a few times to just take it in and be like "Wow Soundwave really just did that?!?"

It kinda felt weird almost, like maybe we're getting too much from him? You know when a character usually occupies a quiet role and they work on something in the background (a scheme or something). Additionally him really caring for his Cassettes is something I love so much so getting that too, I almost feel spoiled! Or like maybe this is too good? Like something horrible is gonna happen?haha I dunno.

The panels too of Soundwave fighting Screamer and them all saying his name!! OOF!!! *Chefs kisses*!!

I loved this so much too T__T ahhhhh

Also I feel so bad for Thundercracker! He lost both his seeker bros T_T I kinda hope he finds out how Skywarp died actually and maybe goes on his own again like in IDW1.

Arcee being trained by magnus is a cool idea! Magnus always fluctuates in importance and age so much between interpretations!

She looks so adorable here. Poor baby T_T (also is she holding Magnus' hand?? 🥺)

And I was very happy to see Warpath for 1 second 😭 rip silly guy (also Kup)

I'm enjoying it so far! One thing that always gets me confused in Transformers series is just how much it takes for them to die? Like when should I be heartbroken or can they just be put back together? IDW1 eventually makes it pretty clear, but I'm still a bit confused with Skybound.

Some characters have gotten killed off and I'm just like "Dang... you too??" Starscream doesn't count because he's Starscream. You could put him in a blender, feed him to Unicron, have him poop him out and then be tossed in the dark universe and he'd still come back! Probably with a spiffy new paint job too!

Anyway the whole things with Sparkplug and the Matrix ehhhh I'm not sure what's going on? I get the a soul for a soul kinda thing, but I'm not sure how i feel about it 🤔well! I'll find out eventually! It's just different and interesting rn! 🤔

I have one more issue so I'll yap more then! What do you think so far?? Please no spoilers tho for the next issues! (8 onwards since I'm reading the physical releases!) I'm curious what your thoughts are!

#aibi thoughts #transformers chats #small disclaimer i haven't read IDW1 fully so idk Soundwaves full story there and everything he does but he deserves a promotion #soundwave always gives me assistant to the assistant regional manager vibes 😭😂#Aibi reads

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blackstarchanx3new · 1 year ago

Note

Are you aware that for your Four Swords Return au pages 41-44 are missing? I love that section and keep trying to go back to it, but I can't find the pages ... for a question: Do all of Dark Links shirts just have giant holes in them to account for the chest eyeball?

Fixed it. I dunno how that happened, must have been one of those times I didn't edit the master post for an extended period of time like a goof.

If there's any more mistakes in the master post I'll try my best to fix them. I'm not used to this style of comic uploading.

To answer your question

"Do all of Dark Links shirts just have giant holes in them to account for the chest eyeball?"

Yes and no? X'D

So Dark is a demon, a curse that gained sentience so technically all his clothes are just a manifestation of his magic.

Bro would never be naked unwillingly is the vibe, he'd ALWAYS have clothes that suit his bodily needs at his disposal because, they're made of his magic.

Sketch on the right here is what I'd consider his most "Default" outfit lacking Link's influence. Smth he'd summon if he didn't feel like trying too hard and was naked for whatever reason lmfao.

In these sketches you can REALLY tell how much Dark has changed his hair to mimic Vio X'D

Sketch #1 is where things get INTERESTING.

Dark were to wear a shirt from someone else, it'd have to be either a button up he could leave open around his eye, OR

I've considered a gag where he just rips open a hole in a shirt because it makes his chest eye uncomfortable. XD

So yeah. All shirts that aren't created by his magic would have to be modified to make him comfortable.

Design wise: Dark's outfit/beta design was supposed to look like THE MOST GENERIC LINK TUNIC DESIGN (because he's a blank slate of a person rn mimicking Link)

+ Vaati's eye on his chest. (Vaati created him)

Dark's design being subject to change is a huge point with him.

Already designed a new Tunic idea I had but I won't share that quite yet I think. XD

Long walk to say: Dark likes having his eyeball out so yes he'd rip open shirts if they blocked his eye.

#dark link #fsr dark link #four swords returns #four swords returns au #loz fsr au #fsr ask #thanks for the ask!

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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year ago

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Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Tough day for bad bitches -Danny Words: 2,097 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Home' -by Catie Turner

XLII: Local Dumbass Knew What She Was Getting Into and Did It Anyways

The last time she dreams of Percy, Ara just opens her eyes and he's there, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He doesn't speak at first, just studies her with curiosity.

She knows it's him and not a made-up Percy, someone has allowed them to see each other earlier than expected.

"You look like her..." he tilts his head. "But are you really..?"

Ara sits up on her bed, but she moves carefully, afraid to wake up if she makes the wrong move. "Percy, where are you?"

The boy looks around the room ignoring her question. "This is your place?"

"Our place," she knows Percy got his memories stolen just like Jason, so she starts with the basics. "When your mother adopted me, I asked if I could share a room with you just the first few months, cause I'd never slept alone," she tears up a bit. "Now I sleep alone all the time, here and in camp."

Percy smiles. "You are Ara, my sister, right?"

Percy calls her sister all the time, she was used to it already, but it's been months since they last spoke, months since they saw each other, and yet she is still a sister to him.

"I think someone wants us to talk," Ara continues, trying to keep it together. "Dunno what they want us to say."

"You sound kinda different from what I remember," Percy's eyes brighten. "You've been eating your veggies, Birdy?"

Ara abandons her bed in an instant and Percy hugs her as soon as she reaches him. The contact feels so real it makes her sob. She gasps. "I should kick your ass! You've had us worried!"

"I'm not having a blast out there either, you know?" He scoffs, squeezing her smaller frame tighter against him. "But I'm happy to see you, even if you look different."

She holds his face and looks at it hungrily: he also looks different, his features are sharper and he appears to be stronger now, judging by how she struggles to get out of his grip. "Tyson was close to finding you and then he lost track—"

"It's a long story," Percy cuts in. "But I promise you're close to finding me."

"Don't—"

"I promise," he insists, squeezing her shoulder. "Trust me."

"I always do," Ara pouts. "Don't die, Nemo. Or I'll force Hades to spit you out, just so I can kill you myself."

He laughs. "You got it, General."

I speak to Kronos's army using my charmspeak. "As the last child of Olympus, I carry the duty of defending it."

I lift the javelin and pray to any god that's listening to help me out, cause I really need to make an impression, and before anyone has enough time to doubt the reasoning of what I've said, I throw my spear at a Hyperborean.

I watch him fall, then seize my compass and turn it into Almighty. I raise the sword over my head and scream. "FOR OLYMPUS!"

The monsters are pretty frantic, so Pollux has no problem keeping the hallucination going. I charge towards their army and when Chiron concludes Lily and I have no intention to slow down, he decides to distract Kronos.

My plan also works on most of the demigods from the enemy army. I can't blame them, Achilles never spared a soul, so running away is the smartest choice here.

Pollux's power isn't strong enough to fool the monsters for long though, so they probably see just a blur, and they can't decide whether to run or stay.

I jump off of Blackjack when we get close enough to the monsters. He rises from the ground with Pollux holding onto him and I land on top of Ethan Nakamura. As soon as I touch him, he screams in realization. "It's a trap!"

An arrow flies over my head, Lily has stopped a dracaena from ripping my head off. I get up and kick Ethan's stomach for good measure. I use my charmspeak again. "Give up!"

If I hadn't been blessed by my mother in advance, my reach wouldn't have gone as far as it does. The monsters closer to me drop their swords, and some get on their knees begging for mercy. Arrows come down flying all around me, evaporating the monsters on the spot.

I run forward and a monster tackles me, but then a miracle happens:

Nico Di Angelo's arrival is enough to split the crowd. He's wearing black armor that, to be honest, makes him look really cool. He lifts his sword and kills the monster that has me pinned on the ground.

I thought I'd failed to convince Hades, and even though I hadn't said anything to Lily, I'd assumed he was determined to let us die. I guess I was wrong. "Sorry for the delay," Nico helps me up. "But I know it's never a good idea to steal the spotlight from an Aphrodite."

It's the first time in days that I manage to smile. "Thank you."

"Son of Hades," Kronos sneers at Nico. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Your death," the boy replies, lifting his sword again. "Would be great for me."

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

Nico and I share a look and he picks Almighty from the ground, handing it back to me. "You're gonna kill him, or what?" He asks me casually.

Kronos notices me at last. Luke's eyes haven't looked in my direction in so long, that it hits me like a ton of bricks. It's weird 'cause he doesn't look any different, just... worn out.

But I, on the other hand, am a whole other version of myself.

"You," he seethes. "This is the last time you disrespect me."

"Yeah," I adopt a fighting stance. "It is."

The ground quivers under our feet and skeletons spurt out of every crack, seizing monsters without warning.

"Drop your weapons and retreat!" I yell, Nico, Lily and I move together. "You're done!"

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos screams. "The dead are no match for us!"

"The dead are not the ones you should be worried about, old man," Lily says, aiming two arrows in his direction.

Hades shows up riding his spooky chariot. "Hello, Father. You're looking... young."

"Hades," Kronos glares at him. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."

"I'm afraid not," The god looks at Lily, Nico, and me. "My son and his friends convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." His eyes Percy. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, not all of them are deserving of oblivion. It would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."

Kronos shortens the magical barrier and leaves most of us out, only a small group remains in it, and my brother is one of them.

"NO!" I run towards it and Hades does too, but we're both pushed away.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Lily, he knew about Camp Jupiter before any of this happened and he never mentioned it!"

"If Chiron couldn't, what makes you think Nico could?" Lily leaves her dagger on Ara's nightstand and gets up. "His new sister is Roman, right? Perhaps he was afraid to lose his family again if he talked."

"So you're saying I shouldn't tell Annabeth about it?"

"Gods, no! She's having meltdowns left and right! She'll murder Nico! My sister's already way too pressed about the delays, don't freak her out more."

Ara scoffs, obsessively folding and unfolding the clothes she's planning to take on the quest. "I'll murder Nico when I see him—no wonder he never stayed here, he knew Jason would recognize him, that asshole..."

"Hey..." Lily stops her. "You can't be mad at him for wanting to protect his sister..."

"And where is his loyalty to us?" Ara demands grumpily. "He owes us."

Her friend stops her from folding more jeans and shorts. "Are, whenever he visits you're always fighting. You promised Hades he'd be welcomed with open arms—"

"He's the one who continues to act like we're out to get him! If he were nicer—"

"Ara!" Lily stomps her foot in frustration. "You always do this! You push Nico and me into the crowd, telling us it's easy because you have no problem doing it, but it's not fair!"

"You wanna talk fair?" Ara argues. "Nico saw us dying with worry every day for the last six months and said nothing!"

"What could he tell you that Jason hadn't? And being fair, Ara, after you met Leo you left camp like it wasn't important to supervise us anymore, like you'd gotten what you wanted from us so the rest didn't matter."

"I'm sorry?" The girl glares at Lily. "I care about this camp more than you seem to know, Lily. Unlike Nico, who only cares about his reputation!"

"How can you say that after what he did for us during the war?"

"He tried to kill my brother and felt guilty when it didn't work!"

"It wasn't his plan and you know that!"

"I don't wanna go over this again," Ara rolls her eyes and turns away from Lily. "I've got other things to worry about..."

"Like your prophecy?"

Ara freezes. Annabeth must've told Lily about it, so there is no point in asking how she found out. She wonders how long Lily sat with this information, letting it boil until she could spit it out.

"I was going to tell you," Ara says quietly.

"I doubt it."

"I was going to tell you once I knew what it meant," she clarifies.

Lily starts to leave the room. "You're unbelievable, and I'm done."

"Don't do that!" Ara follows her out. "Why do you have to turn every conversation into a test? Every time I choose wrong, you treat me like I'm still small dumb Ara!"

"Because you keep hiding stuff only to tell us about them at the last second so we have no chance to stop you! You've always been like this, and that's why no one thought you'd be a good leader!"

Ara comes to a halt at the top of the staircase. "Did you?"

"What?" Lily stops midway down the steps.

"Did you think that as well?"

"It doesn't matter," Lily's eyes are cold, like two pieces of sharpened ice. "You move faster than I can think. I struggle to keep up and you don't care if I'm still grieving. Nothing's been enough for you since you became the daughter of Olympus."

"If you could believe in me for just a second, maybe I wouldn't need to do everything on my own."

"I believe in you," Lily's grip tightens on the handrail. "Learn the difference between concern and distrust, Strategus. Whenever you do something foolish is like you don't understand how lucky we are to have—"

"No," Ara replies, anger seeping through her words. "You are lucky to have survived, I worked hard to get here. I earned my place as Olympus's General, don't you dare say I'm here out of mere luck."

Lily looks up at her, eyes darkening. "You used Michael and I to crawl your way up, and you barely made it out," she turns and keeps going, quickly reaching the bottom of the stairs.

Ara stays at the top of the staircase, her chest tight and her head pounding. A girl calls her name downstairs and she immediately rushes down, thinking it's Lily.

She finds Annabeth instead.

"What's wrong?" Ara asks anxiously. "Not another delay?"

Annabeth's eyes are bright and eager. "Get your things. We leave in an hour."

My parents wake up and start fighting, which is something I never thought I'd see, but they're doing a pretty good job. Kronos runs to the entrance of the Empire State, and I lock eyes with Percy.

Clarisse and Chiron are out of the fight, and Annabeth and Thalia are trapped inside the border with him. I see him fall to the conclusion that I must do the one thing he can't.

"You're in charge," he shouts. "Don't make me regret it!" Before leaving, he tells Mrs. O'Leary to look for Chiron under the debris.

Lily and Nico stand by my side, weapons ready. "Heard him loud and clear," Lily nudges my arm. "So you better do something."

I nod, taking a deep breath. "Hermes, Hephaestus—Take the mortals to safety!" The campers start pushing the people out of our way. I turn to the demigods that are left. "We end the war today," I lift my sword. "Camp Half-blood!"

Cheers and cries of war respond to my call. I roar a second time. "Praise Hades!"

Lily and Nico echo my cry, and some campers repeat it as they charge against the army of monsters. Nico's dad shines brighter, and he attacks Kronos's barrier with renewed force.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

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the-bar-sinister · 8 months ago

Text

In Justice We Trust (139488 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed.

All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.

December 25, 4:25 pm

They had some time to kill before Pearl would arrive. Simon and Halblicht had gone to speak privately for a moment in another room, leaving Athena with the nervous Apollo. Or maybe Clay. he was bouncing his leg under the table again.

Athena tucked her hair over her ear with a quiet smile.

“Holding up okay, guys?"

She was admittedly a little nervous. All this ghost stuff sent a muffled wave of emotion through her, along with the memory of her mother’s face. Pearl the spirit medium was going to prove whether or not Bobby and Kelso were literally haunting their own killers; prove if Apollo’s close friend–more than close friend– had fallen into his body after the wretched way he’d died.

And maybe, if she was lucky, allow her to look her mother in the eyes for the first time in 7 years.

"I'm okay," he murmured. His own nerves seemed to match hers. "I was just trying to decide something…"

Athena leaned on her hand, looking at him with a curious tilt of her head. “Maybe I can help?”

"It was if I should ask Pearl not to say anything about my own situation until we get back to the hotel. it seems like… a lot to deal with at the police station. Either way that it goes."

Athena nodded. “Yeah…that’s a good question.” She reached out to pat his shoulder. “It's gonna be a lot either way, I’m sure. I guess it just depends if you wanna rip the bandaid off or not.”

He sagged against her hand. "What about you? You're not going to ask to talk to your mom here, are you? Or are you? I guess that would be a good way to prove Pearls' abilities…"

“I…I dunno. I’ll admit I’m kinda scared to.” Athena said with a gentle smile. “But it’d prove it nice and easy if she could manage to channel mom. So I may bite the bullet and do it here.”

Clay– or Apollo– took a deep, shuddering breath, and stared up at the ceiling. "Alright. If you do it here, I'll do it here, too. Rip the bandaid off, like you said."

Athena let herself fall against his shoulder,

“Then we can recuperate back at the hotel. Everyone’s probably gonna need it.” She laughed weakly. “Man, how do you think Interpol would handle it if it turned out their dead agent wound up in 24’s body?”

"I donno," Apollo shook his head. "I donno how I'll react. Do you think they'll throw a party or a funeral?”

“I…I think it’d be kinda sad if they held a funeral for someone who had to attend it, maybe? I mean, even if she’d probably still be handcuffed or under observation…I know I’d be kinda bummed out by it?” She put her hand on her chin with a furrow of her brow. “...or find it hilarious.”

He leaned on his hand thoughtfully. "I guess if it turns out to be the case, they can just ask her."

Athena laughed, running her hand through her hair.

“Yeah…though if that is her, she seems a little…mixed up with 24. Confused. In a mixed state.“

"Well I mean, you saw me– us?-- before you suggested the idea, right?" he murmured. "It's not normal to have someone else in your head. It's not the first conclusion you jump to when you start having weird feelings and thoughts."

Athena smiled delicately at him.

“Exactly. It feels like a stretch until you really think about it. And it’s not like it’s the sort of thing most people come to on their own right away.” She gestured vaguely towards the door “...especially if you’ve had all understanding of any emotion at all beaten out of you.”

"Yeah. If it's the case– and I'm not saying it is for any of us– but if it is, I guess I have some sympathy for her."

“Me too....emotions aren’t easy when they don’t come naturally.” She smiled a little and leaned on her hands thoughtfully. “I’m genuinely curious…I don’t know which answer would be weirder.”

"Me either. Guess we'll have to see on the other side."

There was a hesitant knock on the door.

Athena looked up suddenly and called out almost without thinking. “Come in!!”

The door opened, and Pearl Fey slid in. Though she was only two years younger than Athena herself, Pearl always projected a youthful energy that made people guess her far younger, and the same quality was on display today as she crept into the room and straightened her robes.

"Hi Ms. Athena. Mr. Polly."

Apollo put on a warm smile for Pearl, even though Athena could feel his anxiety spiking. "Hey, Pearls."

Athena flashed her a bright smile, trying to ignore the way his anxiety bounced through her own system.

“Hey Pearl! Man, am I glad to see you!”

"Good to see you too! Mr. Nick said you needed me! Oh, and that pretty agent lady said she was going to um, "drag detective prime time and mr. modern samurai" in here in a minute. And something about a prisoner?"

"Kelso. Or 24. or whoever," Apollo nodded. "Sorry for throwing you in the deep end here, Pearly."

She shrugged and smiled. "I'm kinda used to it. Um… can I ask what's up though?"

“....Detective Prime Time” Athena murmured with a shake of her head. The nicknames kept evolving, but somehow she suspected she’d always be ‘Miss Edutainment’ to the woman.

“Yeah ah, so we’ve been investigating a murder up here in Cauli…two dead interpol agents, while on the trail of an espionage ring. Only the Interpol agent sent to guide us was killed and replaced by one of the ring’s ‘assets’...people trained in a horrible facility to be used as weapons. We took her captive after figuring out she’d replaced Agent Sam Wan Kelso, and now she’s in custody– that’s Number 24…but she’s agreed to cooperate and help us!”

Pearl chewed on her thumb, listening, and nodded for Athena to continue.

She smiled nervously at Pearl. “...which is why we need your help. She knows things she supposedly shouldn’t…and we want you to do your spirit medium thing to see if we can confirm if there’s a supernatural hand in all this…with her, and with the man we used to call The Phantom. ...and maybe a few other ah, situations, too. Ghosts all the way down, Pearls.”

Pearl opened up her mouth and closed it a couple of times. She looked at Apollo, and then at Athena again. "Um. The Phantom… that wasn't… the guy who was at breakfast with you and Mr. Simon this morning, was it?"

“Uh…” Athena held her hands up with an awkward but cheery grin. “Most people aren’t really supposed to know that, but yeah. That’s him. Robert Halblicht’s the name he chose for himself, though.”

Pearl chewed on her thumb again. "Oh, I see. Um. Wow this is… super weird…"

Apollo had gone silent, just listening.

Athena’s smile twitched “....did you ah…already notice something about him, Pearls?”

There was another sharp knock on the door, but they didn't wait for permission to enter.

It was Agent Ash, flanked by Halblicht– who was straightening his tie– and Simon, whose hair looked a little bit more askew than usual.

Athena felt her face flush red, and decided it was polite not to comment. Instead, she gave them a flustered thumbs up “Hey! Simon, Halblicht…great to see you guys! Hello Agent Ash!”

Sheila smirked, barely stifling a snicker. “Sorry for the delay, Miss Edutainment. Your compatriots decided to pass the time in their own special way.”

Agent Ash wasn’t nearly as polite as she was. She turned a deeper shade of red and smiled awkwardly.

“Sool. So uh, Simon, Halblicht…Pearl’s here!” She gestured towards the other girl “which means we can get started!”

She could feel the waves of embarrassment coming off of Simon, and Bobby– more off of Bobby, than sSimon who it seemed was more than just pretending not to be affected by it.

Sheila turned her attention to Pearl with a wink.

“Thanks for making sure neither of them wandered off to get into trouble, young lady.”

"Um… no problem," Pearl nodded. She fidgeted with the charm around her neck. "So, what would you like me to do first? I heard its kind of um, a complicated situation…"

Apollo glanced Athena's way.

“W..well.” Athena’s nerves hammered in her heart, the internal discord drowning out everything else as she took a breath. “If you need to prove it to Agent Ash, you’ve got the powers you have…I h-have a possible request that could prove them.”

Pearl cocked her head. "Oh? Um, I'm happy to prove my powers if you need me to…"

Athena took a deep breath. “...would you be able to channel my mother, Metis Cykes for me?”

Sheila leaned against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, watching intently.

Pearl jumped, and covered her mouth. "Oh gosh, Miss Athena… your mother? Um, of course I could… you have a picture of her?"

"If she doesn't, I do," Simon said, from the corner where he was standing with Halblicht. "But are you certain that's what you want to do, Cykes-dono? Here and now?"

"I mean, it's not like I can only channel people once or something," Pearl murmured, playing with the sleeve of her robes. It wasn't clear whether she was actually trying to be heard or not.

“I..I can always ask for a more private audience later.” Athena said with resolve, glancing towards Simon with a nod “This is very much what I want.”

She reached into her jacket pocket where she found her wallet, and tucked inside it, a folded up photograph. “alright…I just need to give you this and you’re good?”

Pearl nodded. "I just need a name, and a face and I can channel somebody. Um, as long as they're actually dead. And not currently being channeled by somebody else. If they're being channeled by someone else, I can't do it."

.Athena noticed that Simon and Halblicht shared a glance.

“You can’t do it if they’re being channeled by someone else…” Athena tilted her head “does that include Possession?”

She unfolded the picture and glanced down at it. It was a photo taken not long after the official one hanging in the Space Museum…but this one had her in it, leaning near her mother as if trying to hide. Her mother’s face was crystal clear, smiling gently towards the camera as her hand rested atop Athena’s head.

She glanced at Simon, grimacing a little with a shrug.

"Um, I actually don't know…I haven't run into many possessed people before," Pearl murmured. She held out her hand for the picture, and then looked over at Agent Ash. "Do you want me to summon her in here, or somewhere else?"

"Unless we need the suspect involved, I hardly see a reason to move," Simon said. He glanced at Halblicht who had moved closer to him again.

Sheila tilted her head. “It’s best not to alert the suspect until we perform the test on her. Just in case, it’s better if it’s a surprise.”

Athena bit her lip and nodded. “Here’s good. Everyone here needs to be for proof, or …or support.”

She realized she’d started shaking, and shifted to hide it by hugging her arm to her side.

Someone touched her back, and she realized Simon– and Halblicht too– had come up next to her. "Athena– if you're not ready for this, Fey-dono could summon literally anyone else."

“I’m fine.” Athena said with a tense smile. She let herself lean into the reassurance and closed her eyes. “I know this isn’t going to be the last time, and…and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather summon than her.”

Simon squeezed her shoulder. "If you're certain, Athena. Then the rest of us will bear quiet witness to your reunion."

Halblicht offered her a rather shaky thumbs up.

Athena returned it, her own hand shaking just a little before she stilled it.

“Thanks, Simon…The support is nice to have.”

"You have it. Always." The two of them stepped back, giving her space.

Apollo stepped in beside her instead, and Pearl looked up from the picture.

"Okay… I'm ready for this when you guys are. Miss Athena? Miss Agent Sheila?"

Sheila gave Pearl a little salute as she snapped her compact shut again “Please. I’m looking forward to having my worldview shaken more than it already has.”

Athena laughed a little at Sheila’s remark, before she fixed her hair and nodded.

“I’m ready.”

She wasn’t– part of her wasn’t sure what she’d say, and she was sure Widget was flashing every emotion under the sun as she stood there smiling like a cheerful fool and waited to potentially come face to face with her dead mother.

Everyone in the room stood around Pearl in a loose circle; Sheila, Simon, and Halblicht further back, and she and Apollo at the forefront.

"Alright." Pearl put her hands together and smiled. "Good luck everybody."

Her fingers flicked in quick succession and she seemed to mutter a prayer. Athena felt all the emotions that she could sense from her go dead suddenly– and a strange aura filled the room. A tension, and expectancy.

Her heart nearly stopped at the sudden drop in emotions, the air felt heavy and strange as it weighed down upon her. An involuntary step back was aborted, only for her to stand nervously tugging her ponytail with the smile frozen on her face.

In a blink, the tension eased, and in that same blink– Pearl Fey was no longer there.

Metis Cykes stood in the center of the circle with her hand upon her chest over the folds of unfamiliar clothes with a pensive frown etched on her face.

There was a hiss of air behind her. "Cykes-sensei," Simon breathed, seemingly involuntarily. Athena felt his wave of emotions crash on her.

“....Well I’ll be damned in the court of Justitia…” Sheila murmured. “It's actually real.”

Metis’ head turned upwards in a slow and deliberate motion, a smile forming on her lips for the briefest moment before Athena was once more assailed with surprise.

“Simon…what in the world happened to you?” No sooner did she ask , than her eyes fell on Athena and her rictus smile. “Oh..”

“H-Hey mom!” Athena projected the joy that weakly pulsed in her own heart, lost in the ever rising volume of the emotions around her– she kept the hot, coiling feeling of anxiety pushed down and smothered instead of daring to let it show. “Mom…I..I know this probably a lot to take in…”

Metis placed her fingers against her forehead, massaging just over her nose with a quiet smile. “Athena dear…you’ve grown quite a bit, haven’t you? Which means…I’ve been dead for some time. Haven’t I?”

"Your presence has been dearly missed, Cykes-sensei," Simon murmured, dropping into a little bow. "We're sorry to impose on you in this way."

Apollo, beside Athena, was shaking. He had started to hold himself again, and Athena could tell that he was desperately trying to hold his emotions in check as this proceeded.

Metis held up her hand with a musical chuckle “Don’t worry about that, Simon. Death is a lonely sea of cognition. If I’m honest, any opportunity to escape it I’ll be happy to take.”

She walked across the circle towards Athena, and Athena felt the swell of positive feelings from inside her even as her face remained composed and thoughtful.

“I didn’t think I’d really get to see the way you’ve grown, Athena.” She reached over, and pulled her daughter into a tight hug. “You’ve even outgrown the headphones we made you.”

Hot tears stung Athena’s eyes as she half fell against her with shaking shoulders

“Momma!” Her voice hiccuped, caught on her tears for a moment as she tried in vain to compose herself. “A l-lot’s happened, m-mom…things were really bad for a while but it’s gonna get better.”

There was a hush over the room as the two of them reunited. Athena could hear the sound of Simon who was badly holding back his tears. Apollo– or perhaps Clay, or both– was shaking. Robert must have been present, because from him at least she felt a comforting glass pool of nothing.

Metis rubbed Athena’s back, letting her daughter cry against her as Athena tried to compose herself. The emotions of the room swirled inside her, her own rose and swirled within the ambiance …

Strangely, the glass pool of nothing was a comfort, allowing her own emotions to reflect back to where they belonged…flowing along with the tears as she looked up at her mother’s quiet smile for the first time in 7 long years…since their fight over her headphones.

“I can see that a lot happened, Athena.” Metis gave her a firm squeeze before she leaned back to look over the faces assembled with an analytical stare that Athena and Simon knew well. She was taking into account everyone in the room…listening to their voices and the sounds of their hearts, making judgements.

She spoke again, with her hand delicately atop Athena’s head. “...where are we? Is Aura around? This doesn’t look like the Cosmos Center.”

"Aura isn't here, I'm afraid, Cykes-sensei," Simon explained quietly. He wiped his face with his sleeve. "And we are quite far from the Cosmos Space Center. Your daughter has become a fine defense attorney, and we are currently investigating a case with some supernatural elements. You've been summoned– much to our pleasure– as a mere demonstration of our medium's miraculous skill."

Athena nodded against her again, taking soft and hiccuping breaths as she wiped her face .

“I solved the mystery of your death,” she whispered, “but…but that’s a story for another time, mom. For now, I’m sorry she’s not here…and I’m sorry to have pulled you from th–”

“Death is a dream, Athena.” Athena felt the sting of sorrow and pain in those words. “It’s not a hardship to see the light again and to see how far you’ve all come since I've fallen asleep.”

She raised her hand to her chin. Just like Athena, her mother could be quiet…pensive…often keeping her emotions tightly wrapped within herself to the point that some saw her as cold towards everything but her work.

She and her mother had always shared the need for a mask between them and the outside world…it was no wonder Metis had kept a collection of Noh theater masks along with the other mementos of her heritage.

“But a case with supernatural elements, you say? Like that whole affair on TV with that Iris girl and the birdish lawyer? Pigeon Right, or something, yes?”

Athena’s smile grew performatively awkward. “Phoenix Wright, momma. He’s my boss.”

"Our boss, actually," Apollo murmured, the first time he'd said anything at all. "But yeah. Just like that. Had to prove it was real."

Metis’ gaze turned towards Apollo for the first time, and she blinked.

“...Justice, right? Apollo Justice. You used to play around the Cosmos Center all the time with Clay Terran, didn’t you? It’s a regular reunion, it seems!”

Athena hugged her tighter. She was sure it was obvious, both to her mother’s keen ears and to the eyes of everyone watching…she knew it would only be a short time, that it wouldn’t be forever.

She didn’t want to let her go and push her away, not again.

Metis noticed, gently rustling Athena’s hair with a furrow of concern on her brow. “You know. I heard a lot about the talents of spirit mediums from my own parents. The Ayasato clan in Japan, which became the Fey clan here in America. In a way, it feels like I’m a part of history being channeled through one of their number.”

She smiled wryly “Instead of just being history.”

The black humor drew a loud and swiftly aborted laugh from Agent Ash off against the wall…enough to snap her out of her dull and staring stupor.

Simon laughed darkly, and shook his head."The same old Cykes-sensei. I see your humor hasn't passed away, at least."

“No, my dear protege. It wouldn’t be the same if it gave up the ghost. Or if the ghost gave it up.”

She let the joke hang there in the air with the barest laugh into her sleeve. Her mother’s famously dark humor and her academic and passionate love of Japanese history, space and psychology were a number of the things that had endeared both Blackquill siblings to her ever since she could remember.

Athena couldn’t help but laugh weakly herself. “Mom…”

Sheila had already broken down into a snicker .“not just a pretty stiff, a funny one too.”

It seemed she’d already gained another fan.

While the others were laughing, Apollo said, "We don't actually have anything specific we needed to ask you, Ms. Cykes. If you'd like to ask us anything, or if you'd like a moment alone with your daughter…"

“Ah…” Metis’ slight smile fell. “of course…”

She closed her eyes for a long moment of silence before she spoke. “Just one question..Then I may want some time with my daughter. I’ve got who knows how many years worth of telling her how proud I am to catch up on.”

"Of course, Cykes-sensei," Simon said. Athena could feel his tension rise, though his voice was even to any other ear. "Anything."

“...” her expression smoothed into something quiet and placid, but Athena felt the low simmer of emotions inside her mother’s voice as she spoke again.

“Did we manage to launch our Hope for the future? Did it come back safely, despite my death?” Her eyes glanced down at Athena “...It wasn’t all for nothing, right?”

Tears rolled down Simon's face. "It wasn't all for nothing, Cykes-sensei. They made a movie of it, even. They called it a miracle."

The tension inside her relaxed, and she looped an arm around Athena’s shaking shoulders. Athena felt tears welling up in her eyes as she looked up at her mother.

“They did.” Athena sniffed softly. “...and Mr. Starbuck is even set to go back into space soon for another mission. It all really, really was a miracle.”

Metis chuckled. “...a miracle, hm?” It was…That stone. The stone I died for, and the hope of more like it from the probe…it was because I knew it would do wonders in the field of psychology and robotics.”

She leaned down to tap Widget with her fingertip.

“It’s unique mineralogy was the special component that allowed this little dear and my darling Ponco and Clonco their ability to read emotions…the component that allowed me to make those headphones for Athena and help my suffering daughter and those like her. Hearing that all wasn’t lost is a weight off my spirit.”

Athena heard Halblicht breathe in, and she felt a tremor of emotion from him– truly barely perceptible over the din of the others.

"I'm truly pleased to be able to carry the news to you, Cykes-sensei. I hope it will bring you peace."

It made a twisted sort of sense. Of course her mother had fought so hard for that rock, despite the man trying to take it from her. It was for her research– and for her. Tears fell down her cheeks again as her mother continued.

“No.” Metis held her hand up with a weak chuckle. “It brings me joy. I’m not ready to be ground up in the wheel of reincarnation just yet.”

Her hand gripped Athena’s shoulder protectively “I’ve still got unfinished business. I certainly can’t flit off to the next life without saying goodbye to Aura, at the very least. Save the wishing me peace for a little while yet, protege.”

Athena hiccuped again. “Oh.”

Simon's breathy voice carried another wave of mingled sorrow and joy, and he wiped his eyes again. "Of course, Cykes-sensei. I should have known."

She smiled, and dipped into a deep bow.

“I hope you’ll come knock knock knocking on the door to the afterlife for me again, to wake me from the dream. Maybe, when that time comes, lay me out some tea and perhaps some katsudon. Hang up a few streamers. Tell Aura to please show herself from whatever hole she’s working feverishly in. Maybe give me someone to scare.”

She rose and took Athena’s hand, “I’d like to see you all with smiles on your faces.”

“P-promise mom.” Athena said, making a show of a bright smile. “...promise. Next time we’ll make it a real celebration.”

"You have my word, sensei," Simon said, also smiling as the tears ran down his face. "We'll throw a party."

#metis cykes #apollo justice #athena cykes #bobby fulbright #simon blackquill #ema skye #trucy wright #pearl fey #blackbright #phantomquill #ace attorney #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: in justice we trust

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ahimoth-storm · 10 months ago

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some relatable quotes (and why)

so i wanted to make a post about some quotes from anime/movies/cartoons that relate to me in a way. there is a lot, to be honest, so for now i'll only put a few. who knows, i might do a part 2 and songs next. if you have any quotes you relate to, feel free to comment them!

now that i look over this....i realized it looks more like a vent post due to me adding why the quote is relatable in parenthesis... shit-

I don't understand why everybody has to be so judgmental. ...."Hey, Cody's just a bum." "Cody's this," "Cody's that," "Cody's this." Cody's me, bro. Let me be me. When is that going to start? ~Cody Maverick, Surf's up (constantly being compared to others, told i should be like this or more like that)

I, am on, *so* much migraine medication you have no idea... The stress is killing me. I dunno how much longer I can last, I have to tell you that right now! ~Mikey Abromowitz, Surf's up (i have chronic migraines; stress makes it worse)

No joy, man. No joy...Fail. ~Big Z, Surf's up (me after telling myself "i'ma have a good day" and it ends up being shit)

Mikey, why don't you head on over to the snack bar and get yourself a big bowl of shut up? ~Reggie Belafonte, Surf's up (me when i am not in a good mood and people make it worse. me when someone pisses me off then tries to make me laugh)

heh heh, this place sucks, bro. ~Cody Maverick, Surf's up (me at school, me at home, me at the store, me in any sort of inconvenient/annoying place)

i promote happiness! can you see the happiness emanating from me!? what's wrong with you? ~Reggie Belafonte, Surf's up (me looking in the mirror when i am one minor inconvenience away from absolutely losing my shit)

*sigh.* why is it that whenever i'm having fun, it's wrong? ~Squidward, Spongebob (me. just me)

what are those neanderthals doing?.... ~Squidward, Spongebob (me with my nosy neighbors, me at the store and people are acting absolutely RIDICULOUS)

too bad that didn't kill me. ~Squidward, Spongebob (me, with just anything)

i hate all of you. ~Squidward, Spongebob (me after i graduated in 2023)

well, it wouldn't be the first time you ruined everything. ~Squidward, Spongebob (me when my family just can't get along, younger me with my little brother 'cause my father always favored him)

wake me up when i care. ~Squidward, Spongebob (me when my little brother constantly woke me up for the damn nintendo wii (i wanted to do what Squidward did when he bashed his head into the register, but to a table or wall instead))

why am i always the one handing out apologies? ~Shippo, Inuyasha (was blamed for everything; grew a habit of apologizing for everything)

...nothing i could've gained was worth losing her. nothing at all. ~Sesshomaru, Inuyasha (i lost my grandma in january of 2021)

i want you to be happy. i want you to laugh a lot. i don't know what i'll be able to do for you, but i'll always be by your side. ~Kagome, Inuyasha (me to my best friend who i've known and been friends with since 2018)

people like you… are the reason why people like me need medication. ~Inuyasha, Inuyasha (many people in the world, and many types of people, are driving me up a fucking wall)

i just don't like giving up, there's a difference! ~Inuyasha, Inuyasha (i refuse to give up on something/someone that means so much to me, unless i absolutely have a good reason (even then, a part of me still wants to refuse giving up))

i can't be at peace until i find out the truth. Sailor Mercury, Sailor Moon (there are a lot of things happening in my family, as it was split in half when i was very young. one side says this, the other side says that. i'm in constant turmoil trying to figure out who is and who isn't lying. it feels like the equivalent of being ripped apart)

18 quotes, and now my fingers are cramped T^T they'll only cramp more when i add the tags.

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nokingsonlyfooles · 11 months ago

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The menus don't work, the menus don't work, the menus DON'T WORK...

OK, my few readers. I took a break, I went back to fix the navigation, it's unfixable as-written.

I need some complex stuff in places, I was willing to forgive WP for putting out a new site editing interface that barely works - as long as it has the basic features someone would use on a storefront. I'm an outlier. I know this.

BUT IT IS NO LONGER POSSIBLE TO CREATE A MENU WITH A WORKING SUB-MENU IN IT. IF YOU TRY, THE SUB-MENU LINKS ARE UNCLICKABLE.

I am using their site editor and their 2024 theme, I should say.

I crossed my fingers and looked for the (now liable to vanish from anything more complicated than a paragraph) "edit as html" option. Nope! It's gone! I can't fix it. I would have to hack the interface somehow to fix this for WordPress, within WordPress.

I had to go looking for plugins. I HAD TO GO LOOKING FOR 3RD PARTY SOFTWARE TO GET A FUNCTIONAL MENU. And, of course, they paywall features I need. I found a "floating" menu that actually does work well enough (it's a little cramped on mobile unless you put the screen in landscape mode, but at this point you should really do that anyway, I can only format so much) but the sub-menu function is paywalled. And I'm actually fucking tempted to buy (haha, I mean "rent") it. Because the damn thing works in dark mode and across devices. And it sticks to the side in a fairly unobtrusive way, which WP's menu will not. It won't stick anywhere. And it sure as hell won't do that thing where you scroll up and it plops down for your convenience.

But if I use that floating menu without sub-menus, it's gonna get longer, and longer, and longer, until it doesn't fit on your mobile screen anymore, or potentially your tablet or desktop, and then I dunno what happens. Also, in order to keep it small, everything is a cryptic icon that displays a title when you tap it (on mobile) or hover over it (on desktop). That's kinda counterintuitive, I don't know if I want my one working menu to be like that.

I might keep looking and find another plugin that also works that well but... it's not likely. Or, if I do, I may run into another paywall. They gotta get their rent somehow!

This is a stupid problem and so far I am unable to come with with a non-stupid solution. I can:

Put all the links in the header menu, and you'll have to scroll through EVERYTHING to find the actual content every time.

Put all the links in the content area, in different places and different combinations depending on the page. (And this would mean doing some reformatting on every instalment AGAIN.)

Start fucking around with the sidebar - I don't know if it works and I'd have to rip up every template I've already made to add it.

Put all the links in the footer menu, and nobody will notice them.

Put all the links in the floating menu (see above for the issues with that).

Make sub-pages for Misc/Notes and similar that are just lists of links and serve the function of a sub-menu.

Actually put the content on the sub-page and have it navigable via anchors (this seems like it would be a bitch to load, but most of my content is just text).

Make a list of links that isn't actually tagged as a menu, thus losing the collapsible function for small screens.

Kill God.

That last one is probably the most doable but I feel like someone would get mad at me. Like, Hazbin Hotel finally got its first season on Amazon, and if God dies they might have to rewrite some shit.

If I don't lay out the money for the cryptic icon menu, we're probably going to end up with three or four accordions that are not technically menus at the top of every page. And I'll hafta check back every once in a while to see if WP fixed their shit yet.

If they don't stick with that site editor and make it useable, all this work is going to vanish like chalk marks in the rain.

I WANTED to put up another six-pack in February. I have it ready to go! But the site doesn't work. If I can't fix it this week, I won't even be able to put things up without illustrations. And forget having time to fill in the missing artwork. I got enough to do trying to kill God!

#tin soldier and soldier on #updates #website woes #in other news i woke up with an inexplicable ability to focus better on text today #which i should not have?#I'm not wearing reading glasses to write this #pretty sure this isn't gonna stay like this but wtf happened?

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sunyandmony · 1 year ago

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"ꋊꏂꅐ ֮ϐׁυׁׅtׁׅ ….σℓ∂?" |Cato and Reader drabble(?)|

Cato but if he was a… Mer? Fish? Dunno- I'll see what I can do- The design comes first though- So yep- that's why it comes out very badly and late 😔

Just to be safe, I'm gonna add extra trigger warnings..

Tw:body horror(?), implied gore, potty mouth author/reader, self-harm mentioned(ig??)

B̶i̶g̶ f̶i̶s̶h̶ a̶r̶e̶ d̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶o̶u̶s̶ no̶w̶- B̶u̶t̶ a̶l̶s̶o̶… V̶e̶r̶y̶ s̶m̶a̶s̶h̶a̶b̶l̶e̶- I M̶E̶A̶N̶ H̶U̶H̶?̶!̶- D̶O̶N̶'̶T̶ L̶O̶O̶K̶ H̶E̶R̶E̶ D̶A̶N̶G̶-

Start reading under cut ⬇

—-------

You were NOT gonna make it out alive, not out of this one, nope, all the instructions did not tell you about a humongously tall half-human and half-fish, dangerous and about to probably rip you into pieces creature who currently had a staring contest with you, scarlet eyes glowing straight towards you, pentagrams sending daggers(?) your way as you prepared for the worst yet to come..

╰•°`°•>3 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑡ℎ𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒..<•°`°•╯

You finally managed to get out of that ridiculously uncomfortable seat, your mind trailing with thoughts of how your life is changing so fast, it hasn't even been that long since your parents handed out this house to you, and you knew they weren't poor, but neither that rich, you might've been wrong about that- What you're looking for was right in front of you as soon as you looked up from your phone and compared the screenshot to the actual thing.

The house itself wasn't much of a house itself,..a beach house? Could it be considered one at its size? Probably- But you didn't really care, this was now your new home, along with your dog of course, who's been following you all along, practically trying to get your attention to feed them, but you can't right now, it's too much to unpack now and so, she'd have to wait for a bit, you already gave her treats not long ago before getting out of the taxi.

Your dog was mostly fluffy and pretty friendly towards everyone, mostly children and especially you, the owner, the fur on her body being like a rough, colorfully coat. Black, brown and white adding to her fit, her ears dropped over her head as if acting sad from your denial for more treats, slowing down her rhythm ever so often while running off to the docks while you opened the door to your house, a key you almost forgot you had in your jacket that lazily draped over your persona.

This was much better than being locked in your apartment 24/7 working from home for the stupid makeup company your mom told you would be 'best for you' even though you barely liked makeup in general, not phased by it or anyone wearing it, because unlike everyone else, your parents just sent you off and said that it's fine to just retire all of a sudden, and not even bothering to tell you why, just 'waving' you off the best way through a call at midnight.

It wasn't new for them to ask you to do something, but this? You surely haven't expected things to go out this way, not when they planned on you being the one to take over their company when you're older, no not the make-up one, that's just another job you rather forget about now, because you hated every moment being there, not one moment did you enjoy working with uncooperative people at your side and trying to get projects done before they're overdue, so you took it pretty well actually, a chance to start fresh.

You slowly unlocked the door with a click and looked inside, the curtains having been left closed from the last time someone was probably, which you doubted was recent due to how private this part of the town was, nobody even stepping here and just going another way to avoid this place as if they couldn't step on the beach near this house, and you assumed it's your parents who bought this place for sure, because unlike your cousins you're not that easily gonna gloss over it and just, enjoy the kind of wealth? Not quite though, and the beach beside it, how do they have the money? A total mystery you don't ever wanna find anything about.

Ever so slowly, you set your bags near what looks like a desk with many drawers that had already been here for a long time, the dust having gathered onto it, the way this place looked like couldn't be described better then a abandoned house, a whole bunch of old garbage and dust laying around for who knows how long now, bookshelves full of books that somehow fit in the shelves for how many there were, old furniture somehow still intact as well but as everything else here, dusty, but overall organized. Huh, it seems whoever was last here at least left less chores for you to do, you assume that they're more responsible than you are though.

As soon as you hear the creaking of the porch behind you, ever so slowly getting closer, you open the door as your dog, which you so decided to call 'Jua', since the name fitted her pretty well. After she got in, you shut the door closed, making sure to check if it would budge before groaning to yourself, your thoughts running a mile an hour for whatever reason as you slumped towards the middle couch, letting yourself fall on it face first and not thinking twice before closing your eyes, trying to get some good night's rest.

… Turns out that's just impossible the moment you got your phone out and started scrolling through media, again, trying to pass the time and looking through 'Tuza', a popular app today that mostly had everything you could wish for, aside from the hackers, that's something you'd rather not get involved with, yet… At least if it's not necessary..

You didn't realize just how much your eyes hurt until you blinked once, finally coming to a stop from scrolling through Tuza, closing the app and then closing your phone, the screen turning black as you set the said device on the coffee table next to you, closing your eyes and uncomfortably shifting on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but none of the positions helped one bit with your sleepy state, you wanted to sleep so badly, yet couldn't, shifting eve more, as if it would help at all.

You grip your already messy hair and pull on it, the silence abruptly cut short as droplets of water started pouring down from the sky above on the roof of your house and everywhere else outside. You have not watched the news for a while, so you weren't expecting rain at almost 4 AM in the morning, and to say you were tired was a lie.. You were exhausted, spent and done staying up just because of your thoughts, stupid, awful thoughts..

What thoughts were they to be so bad? You don't even know, all you know they're so bad they keep you awake, and a bonus with that constant scratching noise from outside, and you already forgot what you were even talking about a moment later. You slowly loosen your grip on your hair, looking up to be met with the said rain outside that kept on pouring down on your windows. It was actually pretty quiet except the sound of your breathing and Jua's on the floor next to the couch, somewhere in the pitch blackness in front of you.

A deep sigh and you stand up, strolling closer to the window and looking outside, it was all normal. The palm tree ravishing with the violent wind outside, leaves thrown around by the force. You squint your eyes, and then you're met with another, much bigger, much weirder face staring back at you. You scramble back, breathing heavily. What is that? Whatever it is, it's not human, but it wasn't gone even when you looked back out, it started almost right through you.

You gave it a small wave, more out of curiosity than anything, and it returned the gesture, much to your horror. Yep, so it could see you through the darkness from a distance of at least a hundred yards away. Great. You understand why your parents had so many books about mythical creatures now, given one is staring at you. You come back to the present and skip back to your room, picking up a few clothes and changing into them. They were soft and somewhat comfortable on your cold skin, but it wasn't time to think. You put on the hat and then throw a raincoat around yourself, plucking the buttons on it close and putting on the hood before putting on some much needed boots and putting your phone in your pants pocket under the raincoat before running outside, bursting the door open and then closing behind yourself.

If you were gonna see a creature, you would see it up close to make sure it is real and not a trick or your imagination. Humid and wet sand crunched up under your feet and the wind blowing past you so rapidly made it impossible to concentrate on the current mission. Mostly because you forgot to bring a flashlight, so you had to base yourself at the bare minimum that you could see outside in the rain with the bare moonlight slipping through the heavy clouds.

A particular hard swoosh of the wind almost knocked you off your feet, but you grounded yourself, breathing heavily under the collar of your shirt, trying to warm up your breath somewhat before continuing on. You weren't seeing anything as of yet, given how low you are on the ground at the moment, and it felt like forever but you hit somewhat of a checkpoint, a rock in the middle of the beach that you sat down behind to rest on the sand, the wind not as effective now as it was before.

Were you seriously risking your life just to prove a thing to yourself? While it would satisfy your curiosity, it could also satisfy your death wish. A shiver ran down your spine. No, you were not going to die, if it was dangerous you knew you could run, some creatures of the ocean couldn't always stay on the ground before needing to go right back into the water. But given the rain right now, it didn't count, but they could still be out given the chance, and you weren't taking a 'no' as an answer from your brain.

A few more deep breaths and you got off the ground, steadying yourself with the help of the rock given at hand before walking around it and continuing your adventure towards the rocky hill, trying hard to not fall over because of the rain picking up and the wind blowing past you becoming much, much colder and harder to ignore.

A particular area nearby the rocks started rocking along with the wind, and the moment you got too close to it, the wind picked up and the boulder on top fell over, rolling off its spot.

You were so focused on it that before you knew it, darkness ate at your eyes and you collapsed completely under the boulder that continued to crush your body. You were too weak, too stupid to defend yourself against a rock, much less an unknown creature. It ate at your thoughts.

. . .

And suddenly, you took a deep intake of breaths as something heavy was lifted off of you as simply as a feather, you shot up and held a hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself. Your back was most likely not gonna help you, and neither were your most likely broken legs, well, not that broken, you still could move them, given your stupid attempt to get up off the ground.

A harsh gasp came from you, and you sat back down, feeling with your free hand at your ankles and lower leg, trying to see if it was fractured. On the inside it felt intact, on the outside however it felt like it was all scratched and bruised, for both legs had the same problem, but your right leg aches more given the weight that was put on it the most. More thoughts came about and then you raised your head, looking up to be met with what you could describe only as some sort of mer or even, leviathan. It couldn't be put in words at how silent it was, it was leaning close and stabilized with two hands on the ground, holding its body upwards.

You couldn't help your curiosity growing even more, despite the dread you were feeling, knowing that you were probably just prey in its eyes. It inched closer to you, and you had to hold back the shiver that ran down your spine once its immense, wet face was right in front of you, blocking out everything else, all you could see were the obvious scarlet, glowing eyes. To say you were one second away from running wasn't a mistake, but even if you tried, your legs would've given out the moment you get up, given just how much damage has been done already to your body.

The moment you took in a deep breath, it seemed to back away just the slightest bit, you were sure it was more scared of you then you were of it, even though it obviously had an advantage over you in most things. The first obvious one is the height, given you're about the size of an ant to it at this point. You weren't sure what to do, this was just a long staring contest between the both of you.

While most people would've run for their life or fight back, even do as much as flinch, you barely even took in a breath when it inched much closer to you than before. Not to mention it had an unreadable expression on its face, which, from your point of view, looked like a crescent moon and the variety of curves on its face couldn't give it away better than that. You wish you knew more about…Whatever this thing was, so as to know at least what would trigger its fight or flight response.

More harder given how dark it still was right now, and the fact it was still raining, but the creature's body somewhat loomed over you so much it blocked out the rain drops, it was probably trying to trick you into thinking it wasn't dangerous and then just finish you off without a second thought.

It was more than frustrating to think you would be done so easily, given all your life built up to this point, the silence is deafening, it's not a good sign, neither is the way it's inspecting you so closely. You forgot you were still in danger, given it hasn't moved a single bit, well, except for its head, but its body was as still as ever. Was it having some sort of debate on what to do with you? Okay, stop thinking that way, this creature is definitely not as dumb as you thought it would be, it's more like the smart type amongst its species. It's weird to say that too, you don't even know what it is.

It then shifted, leaning away all at once, and you once more had to hold back your breath, though that didn't prepare you for it to smirk at you. The sharp, razor teeth didn't help the matter much. It literally looked like it was about to eat you alive, not like it would be different from when you tried to do it to yourself, but glossing over that- You squeaked the moment the ground left you, and your raincoat not being helpful anymore, given how far off the ground was, you didn't dare look down knowing it would make it worse.

A sound revertabrated from its chest as you didn't move a muscle in its hold. It was so, SO, slippery and wet, yet it had such a hold. The grip around you tightened and your breath was taken away. It slipped closer and closer to the water, using its other hand, clawed tips dragging along the sand, dragging you along against your own will. A momentary midair view of the stars and then darkness.

Water surrounded you the next moment almost instantly, luckily for you, it wasn't as cold as you thought it would be, it was actually pretty warm water. Would be logical, given how hot it was outside not long ago. You blinked several times, adjusting your vision and looking around your surroundings, yep, confirmed you're being dragged deep into the ocean. It wasn't so hard to guess, seeing as many fish started to appear the more your vision cleared, yet your lungs didn't appreciate being so abused, bubbles left your mouth in an attempt to breathe.

Wherever you were being dragged to, it wasn't your home any longer. You covered your mouth with your palms, not doing much but giving you some sort of feeling that gave just the slightest bit of hope you wouldn't drown while being carried away. Was this really a reality? Or is it a dream? It feels too real to be one. The thing holding you was more than real, given that it looked at you from time to time. Your lungs didn't last long, and you started to lose consciousness, your vision blurring out most things around you. It was too much silence.

Wherever you were going to get dragged to, you just hoped it would have some air pocket space. This was the least you could think about before everything suddenly went dark, a warm embrace amongst the sudden cold in the deeper sea. It felt…Comfortable… The light was getting far too close for your liking….

𓆝~°^•*`°•End of prologue⌕`*•°^`•𓆜𖤐

@artistkeval , your blorbo.

FEESH, am I right? 🤔

#sunyandmony writes #Mer!Cato & Reader #Cato and Y/N's wonderland series #Keval this is your blorbo #mer / leviathan creature of nature idk-😭#fnaf oc #artistkeval :0 #writing #fnaf #dca fandom #started this 2 months ago don't blame me😨😨#cw implied body horror #cw implied gore #cw implied death #cw implied self-harm #potty mouth author 😶#cw self-harm

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