#but we're in real danger of ending up back where the start of your story was in a lot of places for a lot of people

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

every time i see this post i cry a little just out of sheer overwhelming emotion. gosh. but so I have a bit of a story that started as a tag ramble but got too long, and it's... not similar, exactly, except for how it is, I think, because it's about keeping the world blooming into something better.

so i was realizing i was queer and not actually a fan of the conservative party about the same time OP was. i'd been raised conservative and evangelical, in the southwest and also in florida, and everyone i knew for most of my life was that way.

so in early 2005, I hadn't really followed anything about gay rights or anything like that until extremely recently. I didn't know much about gay rights, but I knew gay people had gotten AIDS in the 80s and 90s, and I knew that they weren't able to get married or join the army, and I knew my favorite character in First Wives Club was Annie's adult daughter who was a lesbian college student and was complete #stylegoals for me in the early aughts.

In fall of 2004, I'd met some other kids who were about a grade behind me at a NaNoWriMo event, and I'd ended up going to see the tour of RENT that came through with one of them. They became, quite quickly, my very best friends, and all three of them were queer (two of them even started dating around when I met them, I think). They weren't religious the way i was, they were liberal (as much as you generally got in high school in 2005), and they were newish friends but they were kinder and more supportive than anyone i'd ever met through church. They were the ones who'd reach out to me when i was having a rough time to make sure i was okay, they were the ones concerned about my wellbeing when i wasn't sleeping or something. They were queer but... they were good people and i could recognize that in them. I thought that maybe they shouldn't be doing gay stuff, but I was also starting to wonder why that was a bad thing in the first place. Literally could not figure out what harm could come from two girls or two boys loving each other.

I remember a month or two before i finally came out to those friends and kissed the girl who is now my wife, my mom and i got in a fight about me being friends with them because they weren't "appropriate friends". and i was mostly just tired and annoyed and prepared to go 'okay mom' until she was done rather than it being a fight, because I'd heard this before about my friend Willow and done the same thing.

but then she said "people LIKE THAT won't be there for you when you need them. they will abandon you at the first sign of trouble." To this day i'm not 100% sure if she meant non-christian or if she meant ~QUEER~ (or both), but either way i went from 'just wait it out and pretend to agree' to absolutely incandescently angry in the time it took me to parse what she'd said.

I lost my temper completely and for once I didn't and still don't feel bad about it. I screamed at her at the top of my lungs over this: about how they were the only ones who'd BEEN there for me, about how they didn't need me to be perfect to be acceptable, about how they loved me even when i screwed up and had never ONCE made me feel like i was unworthy of love because I didn't live up to some standard I could never quite reach. Unlike everyone i'd ever met through church and ESPECIALLY unlike her and my dad.

and in retrospect while i turned my sexuality over in my head a bit longer to be sure, i think that's when i knew i was queer and that I wasn't ashamed of it and was in fact proud of it. I parsed it at the time as pride in my friends, but looking back? It was pride in me. Because i didn't want to be part of any family that would talk so cruelly about people who'd been so kind, just because of who those people loved and who they did or didn't pray to. And I knew I DID want to be part of a family of misfits and outcasts who refused to sit down and shut up while people treated others like that.

In 2005 it was scary sometimes even just to openly be an ally of queer people, let alone openly queer yourself. Things had improved in a lot of ways, but it was still scary. You still couldn't get married, which meant that if something happened to you, your spouse had no legal rights to make medical decisions, keep custody of your kids, keep your possessions, plan your funeral. You still couldn't come out if you were in the military. There weren't feel good queer stories that were easy to find - even the well written stories were almost exclusively tragic. (I discovered To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar in late 2005 or early 2006, and it was the only story I had for YEARS where there were queer characters and they got a happy ending. I relished it. I still do.)

The point of all this is that I was proud, I wanted to be queer and to not sit quietly and assimilate but be loud and proud and unapologetic, but by fucking god it was scary and not always safe, so sometimes I did end up hiding it. And then things got better. Not everything, but... I was able to get legally married to my wife. I was able to get a testosterone prescription without needing to be psychologically pathologized. I was able to find a job in the midwest of all places where I can have "he/him" in my email signature but still wear skirts and not have any of the people I work with (at one point they'd all been 40+) question it or push back. We were helping the world keep blooming into someplace that doesn't suck so much all the time!

But it's starting to get worse again. My state's passed legislation trying to dictate public bathroom use based on genitals. The supreme court is overturning many landmark decisions, and I know the moment they can, they're coming for Obergefell v. Hodges, the legislation that made my legal marriage valid in all states (including the one I currently live in), not just the state I was married in (which is not the state I currently live in).

So we need to keep fighting. We need to get incandescently angry and we need to be there for each other. We need to scream at the top of our lungs at cruelty and injustice, and we need to be kind and support each other, especially when times are rough. We need to BE a family of misfits and outcasts who refuse to sit down and shut up while people treat our siblings and ourselves like this. Because that's what they want. And we can not give it to them.

I’ve been contemplating for several days something, and I’ve been trying to distill it into meaning, and put nice little bullet points on how this relates to things that have been bugging me about some common Discourses I’ve been seeing, but at the end, I only really have a story. So here, have a story.

About ten years ago, sometime in the eventful 2006-2007 George W. Bush-ruled hellscape of my identity development, I was just starting to figure out how I felt about my conservative upbringing (not great) and whether I was some brand of queer (probably, but too scared to think about what brand for too long). I was working as a server at a popular Italian-inspired sit-down restaurant that was the closest thing my tiny South Carolinian town had to “fancy” at the time but isn’t really fancy at all.

The host brought a party of four men to one of my tables. It was hard to tell their ages, but my guess is they were teenagers or in their early 20s in the 1980s. Mid-40s, at the time. It was standard to ask if anyone at the table was celebrating anything, so I did. They said they were business partners celebrating a great business deal and would like a bottle of wine.

It was a fairly busy night so I didn’t have a LOT of time to spend at their table, but they were nice guys. They were polite and friendly to me, they didn’t hit on me (as most men were prone to do – sometimes even in front of their girlfriends, a story I’ll tell later if anyone wants me to), and they were racking up a hell of a tab that was going to make my managers happy, so I checked on them as often as I could.

Toward the end of their second bottle of wine, as they were finishing their entrees, I stopped at the table and asked if they wanted any more drinks or dessert or coffee. They were well and truly tipsy by now, giggling, leaning back in their chairs – but so, so careful not to touch each other when anyone was near the table.

They’re all on the fence about dessert, so being a good server, I offered to bring out the dessert menu so they could glance it over and make a decision, “Since you’re celebrating.”

“She’s right!” one of the men said, far too emphatically for a conversation on dessert. “It’s your anniversary! You should get dessert!”

It was like a movie. The whole table went absolutely silent. The clank of silverware at the next table sounded supernaturally loud. Dean Martin warbled “That’s Amore” in some distorted alternate universe where the rest of the restaurant went on acting like this one tipsy man hadn’t just shattered their carefully crafted cover story and blurted out in the middle of a tiny, South Carolina town, surrounded by conservatives and rednecks, that they were gay men celebrating a relationship milestone. 

And I didn’t know what I was yet, but I knew I wasn’t an asshole, and I knew these men were family, and I felt their panic like a monster breathing down all our necks. It’s impossible to emphasize how palpably terrified they were, and how justified their terror was, and how much I wanted them to be happy.

So I did the only thing I knew to do. I said, “Congratulations! How many years?”

The man who’d spoken up burst into tears. His partner stood up and wrapped me in the tightest, warmest hug I’ve ever had – and I’ve never liked being touched by strangers, but this was different, and I hugged him back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, halfway to crying himself. “Thank you so much.”

When he finally let go of me and sat back down, they finally got around to telling me they were, in fact, two couples on a double date, and both celebrating anniversaries. Fifteen years for one of them, I think, and a few years off for the other. It’s hard to remember. It was a jumble of tears and laughter and trembling relief for all of us. They got more relaxed. They started holding hands – under the table, out of sight of anyone but me, but happy.

They did get dessert, and I spent more time at their table, letting them tell me stories about how they met and how they started dating and their lives together, and feeling this odd sense of belonging, like I’d just discovered a missing branch of my family.

When they finally left, all four of them took turns standing up and hugging me, and all four of them reached into their wallets to tip me. I tried to wave them off but they insisted, and the first man who’d hugged me handed me forty dollars and said, “Please. You are an angel. Please take this.”

After they left I hid in the bathroom and cried because I couldn’t process all my thoughts and feelings.

Fast forward to three days ago, when my own partner and I showed up to a dinner reservation at a fancy-casual restaurant to celebrate our fifth anniversary. The whole time I was getting ready to leave, there was a worry in the back of my mind. The internet web form had asked if the reservation was celebrating anything in particular, and I’d selected “Anniversary.” I stood in the bathroom blow-drying my hair, wondering what I would do if we showed up, two women, and the host or the server took one look at us and the “Anniversary” designation on our reservation and refused to serve us. It’s not as ubiquitous anymore, but we’re still in the south, and these things still happen. Eight years of progressive leadership is over, and we’ve got another conservative despot in office who’s emboldening assholes everywhere.

It was on my mind the whole fifteen minutes it took to drive there. I didn’t mention it to my partner because I didn’t want to cast a shadow over the occasion. More than that, I didn’t want to jinx us, superstitious bastard that I am.

We walked into the restaurant. I told the hostess we had a reservation, gave her my last name.

She looked at her screen, then looked back at us. She smiled, broadly and genuinely, and said, “Happy anniversary! Your table is right this way.”

Our server greeted us, said, “I heard you were celebrating!”

“It’s our anniversary,” Kellie said, and our server gasped, beaming.

“That’s great! Congratulations! How many years?”

And I finally breathed a sigh of relief, and I thought about those men at that restaurant ten years ago. I hope they’re still safe and happy, and I hope we all get the satisfaction of helping the world keep blooming into something that’s not so unrelentingly terrible all the time.

[archangeldyke-all]

Something with like cellmate prisoner!sevika?! 😭😭😭 idk I just think like her being all dangerous and powerful, having a shit ton of friends but like selectively, no one messing with her maybe even hating how just mean she is. And then comes in reader and yk. I’d love if the story was smutty but u can chose ofc 🫦

i love this so much

men and minors dni

living in zaun is shit. but the one thing that's always kept you and a majority of your fellow citizens in line, was the ever-looming presence of stillwater prison just a few miles away. you've watched countless people enter those prison walls. you know very few who ever came back out.

and now, through a series of unfortunate events that lead to you assaulting an undercover enforcer, you're going to find out first hand just how horrible stillwater really is.

you don't think you've ever been so nervous in your life as the enforcer guides you-- restrained and already hating the itchy fabric of your new life-long uniform--down a long, long hall of cells.

he's chewing a wad of bubblegum, casually, like you aren't about to piss yourself with nerves. "listen kid." he says, looking you up and down. "i read your file. seems like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." he says, shrugging. "no prior arrests, clean record-- honestly i'm surprised they sent you here, but i guess you did break marcus' nose." the enforcer chuckles here.

"you know that asshole?" you ask. the man guiding you snorts.

"'s my boss." he mumbles. beside you, a prisoner lunges at the bars of their cell, screaming at you. you jump, and the guard laughs. "as i was sayin'-- you seem like a real peach. like you'd be a good influence on some of our... rougher prisoners." he mumbles.

dread starts to curl in your stomach. you have a pretty good idea of where this conversation is headed, and you don't like the outcome. you just hope you aren't cellmates with someone real bad: like genie the counter-fitter who got caught two years ago; esmee the weapons expert who successfully set an entire square block of piltover's wealthiest neighborhood ablaze; or, god forbid, sevika.

she'd been caught just weeks ago, smuggling an entire airship's worth of shimmer into piltover's loading docks. it was big fucking news.

sevika's a big fucking deal.

and you want absolutely nothing to do with her.

which is why, of course, the guard pulls you to a stop right outside of the only cell with a light on, the low, dim glow of a reading lamp and the quick flickering light of a lighter. you feel like you're gonna barf.

sitting in the shadows of the cell, puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette, sits sevika, silco's second in command.

if he's the eye of zaun, she's the arm. he might be watching-- but she's doing. she's nothing but bad news; everything you've tried your best to avoid while living in the undercity.

well, look how well that turned out for you.

"sevika, meet your new cellmate." the enforcer calls out. a pair of silver eyes snap up from her book and lock on yours. you shiver.

"fucks' wrong with her?" she mumbles. you gulp.

"nervous, i'd assume. 's her first-offense." the guard says. he shoves you into the cell and you jump as the bars slam shut behind you. "you ladies have fun." he says, before turning and walking away, the smacks of his gum echoing behind him.

sevika inspects you from her chair.

"how'd you fuck up so bad you ended up in a cell with me from your first offense?" she asks, seemingly intrigued.

"punched an undercover enforcer." you whisper. sevika's eyebrow hitches up, a little amused.

"yeah?"

"think his name was marcus, or something." you mumble. she sputters.

"ha! really!?" she asks, a little smile growing on her face. you nod. she takes a drag off her cigarette, then points at the bunk beds. "i get bottom. don't go thinkin' 'cause we're cellmates it means you get to touch my shit. i got people outside pullin' big favors for met to get shit like this." she gestures to her cigarettes and lamp. you nod. "don't look so nervous. i won't bite unless you piss me off."

you try to stop shivering. you don't succeed. "s-sorry."

she studies you for a moment, her smile growing as she does. though she's no longer armed with shimmer, her arm's still in perfect working condition, five little daggers gently tapping on the table top as her eyes dart across you. "you from the lanes?" she asks. you nod. she snorts. "you know who i am?" she asks. you nod again. she chuckles, then stands. she approaches you, circling around you like you're prey, then chuckling and leaning back against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "you scared'a me?" she asks.

"shouldn't i be?" you choke out.

it seems to be the right answer. sevika laughs, then sits back down at her table, picking her book back up, chuckling intermittently for minutes after.

she's not a bad roommate. she's surprisingly tidy, always quiet, her nose usually buried in a book. she smokes like a fucking chimney, and you've come to find she gets her tobacco-- and sometimes a bit of weed-- from one of the guards every tuesday night.

she's got special privileges among most of the guards. they're always sneaking her books and flasks, letting her get away without cell-searches, letting her read past lights out and have lighters and screwdrivers and other dangerous, weapon-like tools.

you, on the other hand, do not have these privileges. and, keeping in line with sevika's one and only rule, you don't touch her shit. all of this means that while sevika smokes and works on her arm and reads and works out, you spend your time just... sitting on the top bunk. watching her.

sometimes, during open cell time, she gets visitors. you're surprised that none of these visits end in shady dealings-- sevika doesn't seem to need to trade her stash of goods for anything. most of her visits are quick, and most end the same way: a small scrap of paper being shoved in sevika's hand.

she burns the scraps after she reads whatever's on them.

she's... pleasant, sometimes. it's rare, but it happens. one day, you'd forgotten to make your bed before you went to breakfast. you returned to find it neatly made, and when you thanked her for helping you avoid trouble with the guards, she had just waved it off. "don' get used to it. i won't always be here to fix your mistakes."

once, a fight broke out while you were in the showers. you were sent back to your cell soaking wet-- your hair still lathered in shampoo. she had chuckled, called you a "wet rat", and helped you rinse your hair out in the tiny sink in your cell.

and... she's kinda pretty. it occurred to you one evening while the two of you were partaking in your nightly routine: sevika reading in her chair while you study her, pretending to sleep. she'd glanced up at you and whispered. "why're you always lookin' at me?"

you shrugged, then nearly choked on your tongue when 'you're pretty' almost slipped out of your mouth. "uh... i got nothing else to look at." you'd ended up saying. she seemed to accept this.

"you don't have any prison girlfriends?" you ask. sevika's in a particularly jovial mood today: the note she'd been delivered earlier in the afternoon must've had great news. she's decided to share her joint with you. the question slipped out the second you took your first puff-- your tolerance astronomically low from being without for so long.

sevika laughs. "nah."

"but..." you cut yourself off before you get yourself in trouble, biting your lip. sevika chuckles, then nudges your leg.

"y' can say it." she says. you smile at her, then speak.

"it's just... i had a few friends who work at babette's." you say. "i figured you'd have as much of a reputation here as you do there."

she takes a second, tilting her neck side to side as it cracks, then sighing. "i got shit to do in here." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, biting your lip again, and she chuckles. "say it." she demands again.

"you just read all day." you laugh. sevika nods.

"i'm... working." she says. you just nod along, pretending you understand what she's alluding to.

it happens in the strangest way but you and sevika start to become... friends.

she sits alone at lunch, and you sit alone too, on the oppisite side of the cafeteria. but you're so used to looking at sevika, that you find yourself watching her even when there are much more entertaining things to look at, like the handful of fights that break out every meal.

you notice she loves the jello cups you guys get once a week. so you pocket yours and toss it at her later that night. the way she smiles lights up the room even brighter than her tiny lamp. you make it a habit.

she starts loaning you her books, finds you a crate to sit on by her table while you guys read together at night.

and when sevika gets jumped in the middle of the night-- you don't even question it before you jump out of your bunk, grab sevika's screwdriver where she left it on the table, and start swinging in the dark, blindly.

"what the fuck?" someone squawks when you manage to stab something in the dark.

"what?" sevika whispers in the dark.

"sevika, your bunkmate fucking stabbed me!" her attacker's voice rings out.

a light flicks on. you cringe at the sudden brightness, then blink in confusion as sevika and a guard with a screwdriver sticking out of their shoulder stare at you.

sevika's grinning. the guard is scowling. you hold your hands up in shaky fists, preparing for a fight. sevika chuckles.

"relax, sweetheart." she says, swinging her arm around you and tugging you into her side. "ran's a friend." she whispers into your ear. you blink at the bleeding guard, then back at sevika.

"so, what, we're taking your girlfriend with us now?" the guard-- ran-- asks. sevika looks at her friend, then looks at you, a calculating look in her eye. she smirks, shrugs, then looks back at the guard.

"she threw herself between me and a uniform-- can't just throw that kinda loyalty out, now can i?" she asks, smiling.

you don't know what's happening. you're about to ask-- when suddenly you black out.

the first thing that comes back to you is your sense of hearing.

voices.

"sevika, fuck, you can't just throw a wrench in the plan like this--"

"i can do whatever the fuck i want--"

"on the night of the breakout?! no heads up!?"

"do i need to remind you which one of us is second in command, here?!"

"...fuck. c'mon, help me load her in the van."

the next thing is your sense of touch. you're laying on the rumbling cold steel of a van floor-- currently in motion.

you're shivering, but then something warm and wool and smelling like cigars is draped over you.

you're head keeps bumping uncomfortably with every crack in the road. someone gently picks your head up and puts it in their warm nap, a hand coming down to scratch your scalp.

your voice comes next. "mmmh?"

"it's okay." sevika's voice comes. you groan, cracking your eyes open, only for her face to be grinning down at you. "fuckin' maniac." she giggles.

"wha?" you groan. you're seeing double, your head is pounding.

"ran knocked you out. 's what you get for stabbin' 'em." sevika chuckles. "but, you're lucky, 'cause they don't hold a grudge. they helped me lug your ass outta stillwater."

"wha?!" you ask again, snapping up. sevika laughs as you look out the front window of the van-- the depths of piltover surrounding you as you head, presumebly, to the last drop.

you recognize the man driving-- a tall, muscular, tattooed man who'd recently been added to your cell block's guard rotation. in the passengers' seat sits the guard you'd stabbed-- bandaged and watching you with amusement.

"wha's happenin'?" you mumble, looking back at your cellmate as you clutch a hand to your throbbing head. you've been shrouded in a red cloak-- sevika's already out of her prison uniform and back in her 'second in command' look. she smirks at you.

"y' really think i was jus' sittin' around, servin' my time?" she asks. you shrug.

"figured somethin' was goin' on. y' kept gettin' those notes. didn't wanna ask." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"well, you shoulda. or i shoulda warned you, so you didn't try killing my crew." she chuckles. you blink over to the person in the passengers' seat, cringing.

"s-sorry." you mumble. they wave it off.

"'s cool. knocked you right the fuck out, didn't i?" they chuckle. "we're even."

you turn back to sevika. "you broke me out of prison?" you ask. she shrugs.

"'re you mad about it?" she asks. you gawk at her.

"uh... just... a little surprised?"

sevika cackles. you smile at the sound, despite your headache. "i wasn't plannin' on it! then you started givin' me your jello, 'n readin' all my books, 'n..."

"she's got a crush on you." ran fills in from the front.

"i didn't say that!" she shouts.

"she's not denying it though--" the man driving teases.

you choke on your spit. sevika huffs, rolls her eyes, and speaks. "i... i kinda got a crush on you, yeah." she mumbles. "and i swear i'm not sayin' this jus' 'cause i think you're cute but: you should really stay with us at the last drop until things calm back down, since, y'know... you're kinda wanted now..." she says, rubbing the back of her neck.

you blink... shocked.

you don't really know what to think. you tried your whole life to stay out of trouble, and it managed to find you anyways in the form of a drunken under-cover enforcer deciding to smack your ass when you'd had too many drinks to hold your punches. you tried to stay out of trouble in stillwater until you were saddled with sevika. you tried to stay out of trouble with her until she dragged you-- literally, you were unconscious!-- out of prison along with her. it seems like trouble's meant for you.

but if there's one thing you're certain of, it's sevika.

you smile at her, then reach up to cup her cheek. she looks more nervous than you've seen her in all your months in stillwater together.

"you gotta crush on me?" you ask. she gulps.

"i'd say it's a little more than a crush seeing she broke you outta stillwater as your first date--"

"ran!" sevika hollers. you chuckle.

"is this our first date?" you ask, raising your eyebrow at her. she shrugs.

"it's... jus' don't expect the next dates to be this exciting." she chuckles, rolling her eyes. you grin, then dart forward and press a kiss to her lips. when you pull away, she's wearing that same nervous look again.

"you okay?" you whisper. she licks her lips, nuzzles a bit against your hand on her face, and nods.

"'m just kickin' myself for not puttin' the moves on you sooner. coulda been fuckin' you to pass the time in prison instead of readin' all those boring books." she mumbles. you burst into laughter, and she grins.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[roseofdarknessblog]

Raspberry kisses (Postwar!Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 3 450

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: After many hardships that came with a new and much different life in the world after the Rumbling, you and Levi finally own a tea shop.

This story can be read on its own or as a part of my little post-war series: Learn to live again

Raspberry kisses

If somebody asked you, when was the last time you had a truly good and restful sleep, you wouldn't know how to answer. You hated how endless most nights seemed. Mostly when you ended up wandering around the little apartment or simply staring at the ceiling. Or even waiting if such a nightmare would wake up Levi as well. He used to have them more often than you, unfortunately.

And tonight wasn't any different. You were asleep when you felt him tossing around, just seconds before he cried out something you couldn't understand. But he did it loud enough to wake you up, sending your body and mind into a panic mode. When you sat up, reaching for the switch from the little lamp on the nightstand, shivers were running down your back, your eyes searching the room for any kind of danger.

„Y/N...“ Levi got out quietly, breathing hard and rubbing his eyes.

„I'm here, it's fine, it's okay. You're okay.“ With a shaking voice, you moved closer to him and grabbed both of his hands, pulling him into a tight hug. You knew Levi since the time you both lived in the Underground, so by now, you knew more than well what you were supposed to do to help him. „Shhh, it was just another nightmare,“ you whispered into his ear, one of your hands rubbing soothing circles across his bare back. His warm skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, his whole body trembling against yours.

„You okay?“ The weak, worried tone of his voice shattered your heart.

„Of course I am.“ Reassuring him that you were fine was the key. No matter what he dreamed about, he had to make sure there was nothing wrong with you right after he woke up. „Of course, I am okay, love. Nothing from your dream is real. We're both fine and safe. We're home.“ Your fingers slipped into his hair, your lips pressing tiny kisses to his forehead.

„We were back in Shiganshina...“ Levi whispered, his voice cold and still shaky.

„Did you see Erwin?“

„And every single one of them, too. All their faces.“

To this day, you felt horribly guilty that you didn't take part in that mission. You weren't there when the Scouts went back to the town where it all began and tried retaking Wall Maria. Since you suffered very serious injuries during the encounter with the Female Titan, you were still recovering. And nobody wanted or needed a soldier, who wasn't capable of carrying out every order or fighting without restrictions. So Commander Erwin decided that you would stay behind at the HQ in Trost, waiting for their return. Not in your wildest dreams could you imagine, that only a handful of them would come back. Without him, the Commander who gave you and Levi a chance to leave the Underground and start a different life.

So looking back, Annie almost killing you, when her Titan slammed you into a tree saved your life in the long term.

You gently kissed Levi's forehead, encouraging him to take slow deep breaths alongside you. It usually didn't take long for him to calm down. Once he made sure, that you were still alive and right next to him, he snapped back to reality. Since you got married a few months back, he always checked if you had your wedding band on and if your whole relationship wasn't just a part of another dream. 

„Sorry for waking you up,“ Levi mumbled quietly, laying back down and pulling you down between the sheets with him. It was obvious that his leg was hurting once again since it took him a while to get comfortable and stop shifting. „Will you be able to fall back asleep?“

„Don't stress about that, it's fine.“ You wrapped your arms tightly around his still slightly trembling body, pressing your lips to his neck. As he was holding you tight against him, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. „Everything is okay. I'm right here.“

The gentle silver moonlight was shining into the room through the parted curtains. It was way past midnight, close to four in the morning. The street, to which your bedroom windows were overlooking, was eerily quiet since everyone was home and asleep. There was still time until the start of a brand new late November day. Each day and each night was slowly but surely getting colder, reminding you how close the winter season was.

„Are you in pain?“ you asked as Levi couldn't stay still. „It's the cold, right?“

„Probably.“

Last autumn and winter were hard for Levi. His injuries were hurting much more when the weather outside got cold. At first, you didn't think that his worsening pains had anything in common with the changing seasons. But after one of his surgeries, a doctor told you, that it's normal for many patients in similar conditions.

„More than a year and a half later and those damn missing fingers still hurt,“ Levi sighed resting his chin on top of your head. „It's not as bad as it used to be, but still... it's annoying.“

„Phantom pain...“ you whispered, pressing your lips to his neck again. „It's supposed to disappear with time. At least that's what they told us, right?“ He nodded, straightening his left leg again gritting his teeth in the process.

„They told us a bunch of useless shit so who knows.“

You chuckled quietly, stroking his side and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. His bare torso felt so nice and warm underneath you. So soft and still a little unfamiliar, but in the best way possible. The past few months, when you looked at Levi or at yourself, you could see some changes. Not training or living as actively as before, resting way more, and eating much differently than ever before started showing here and there.

Surprisingly, this fact didn't make either one of you angry. Quite the opposite. It felt... strangely therapeutic. Your mind took it as a reassurance from your body that you were finally safe. It was perfectly okay to lay around when you felt like it or eat as much as your heart desired. Putting on some weight was an incredible feeling since both you and Levi knew how it felt like to almost starve to death.

„We'll probably have a long day. Fridays are always busy,“ you said after a moment of silence, your eyes slowly closing again.

„Gabi and Falco are coming to help us out, they don't have school for some reason.“

„Really? That's lovely, I always miss them.“ Those two loved coming here to visit you and Levi. Falco was still trying and failing in chess against your husband, who loved kicking the boy's ass every single time. But Falco's determination to win was simply adorable.

For the past five months, you and Levi put all your time and energy into the tea shop he always dreamed about. Opening it wasn't easy, mainly because Levi didn't think it was a good idea with all of his disabilities. He didn't trust himself enough to run his own business.

However, he wasn't alone – he had you, his loving wife and his biggest supporter. And together, you were taking care of the small shop, which helped with your healing even more than you hoped it would. Having something, that was solely your responsibility felt amazing. Sometimes stressful, but rewarding at the same time.

Coming home every evening and feeling tired because of work felt strangely liberating. Running the tea shop truly made you feel that you had a firm grasp of your life and future. After years of feeling uncertain if you'll live another day or week, having this kind of security and calmness felt like a true gift.

„These are the last ones,“ Falco said, handing you a couple more little card boxes you were stocking up in the back of the little kitchen. Since you were selling different kinds of cookies and pastry as well, they were perfect for packing up all the orders for your customers.

You smiled over your shoulder at the boy. „Thank you so much.“

While Gabi loved helping serve the customers or simply chatting with Levi when there was no work, Falco loved spending time in the back with you. Helping you complete orders or even with some baking for the shop. Your cooking and baking skills were never the best, but since Onyankopon decided to teach you many of his favorite recipes, you were very slowly getting better and better.

Not long ago you tried to offer some of your bakings to the customers and to your surprise, they loved it. A whole tray of lemon cookies sold out in a couple of hours. So since then, you tried experimenting more and more, relying a little less on the bakery that supplied you with other delicious treats.

„What's the matter, Falco? You seem distracted. Did something happen with Gabi?“

He shook his head, leaning against the counter. „I miss Colt a lot these days. Like... I miss him all the time but lately, it's more...“

„I get it,“ you said, seeing how he struggled with finding the right words. „I'm sure he's happy that you have such a calm and safe life now. And that you and Gabi are sticking together.“

Colt Grice, Falco's older brother, was a complete stranger to you. The two of you never even met, but you knew so much about him thanks to Falco. He made sure to tell you everything about his brother, who tragically died when Falco was turned into a Titan for the very first time. Just a moment before he ate Porco Galliard and became the new Jaw Titan. You didn't know that man either, but once again, Falco made sure to tell you a lot of things about him. And in a way, your heart was breaking for all of them – all the former Marleyan Warriors, who once wanted you dead. Under different circumstances, you all could have been friends.

„Will it really get easier after more time?“ he asked, looking at you curiously with his hazel eyes. He sounded truly troubled over his own thoughts.

With a sigh, you came closer to him and leaned against the counter right next to him. You hugged him around the shoulders and pulled him closer. „Everybody says it does, so I guess we just have to wait and see for ourselves. I don't want to lie to you, so I'm not going to sugarcoat it. You're not a little kid anymore.“

„I wish I was.“

„I bet you do.“

It surprised you when he leaned against you for a few moments. Both Falco and Gabi became very close to you and Levi. In a way, they reminded you of the 104th kids when you first got to meet them all those years before, after they joined the Survey Corps. And remembering how both of them fought in the final battle alongside you still made you a little emotional. They came a long way and learned a lot. In a very harsh way but... life back then was all about suffering and pain.

„Guess I'll go...“ Falco said quietly in a sad tone, looking into the ground.

„No, no! Wait a second!“ you blurted out and pulled Falco into a tight hug, stroking his hair and kissing the top of his head. „It's okay to feel like this. You lost your brother, friends, your homeland... it's normal to be sad and confused even after a year and a half. We're all adjusting. What we saw and did was horrible and nobody has the right to blame us, that we sometimes still feel sad and have the need to grieve what we lost.“

He nodded a few times, not saying anything in return. He truly was a great and wise kid. You didn't have to worry about him, he would get through all of this and live a happy life. That much was certain.

„You can talk to me or Levi anytime you want, okay?“ Falco nodded again and gave you a little smile. „Now, let's see what those two are up to.“ With a smile, you ruffled his hair and both of you left the kitchen in the back of the tea shop.

When you walked into the main area of the shop, you found Gabi sitting behind the cash register, eating the last chocolate cupcake you had available. But since it was almost closing time anyway, it was fine. They both loved finishing any pastry that was left at the end of the day, it was probably their favorite part of the day spent here.

„Where's Levi?“ you asked her, seeing his wheelchair empty and left behind the counter.

„Outside, talking to some kids,“ Gabi said with her mouth full, a tiny bit of chocolate frosting on the tip of her nose.

„Careful, you'll get the frosting all over your face,“ you chuckled and looked over at Falco, who went to pick up one of the last raspberry cookies, which you baked this morning. Until now, you've only done them at home for you and Levi, so today was their big premiere in the shop. Seeing them almost all gone made you more than happy.

„I'll go check on him, can you stay here?“ you asked those two and headed for the door.

Today was another good day. Many people came to have tea and something sweet right here, or just buy something and take it back home to enjoy later. It really didn't matter. The most important thing was, that they kept coming back. You were earning a good amount of money for your household, but it was also possible to put some money aside.

But the most important thing was, that doing this job and having this place was helping both Levi and you heal in many different ways. You loved seeing him interact with the customers. And even more, you loved seeing how lovely and respectfully they acted towards your husband. Many people loved coming back to have a conversation with him... and Levi didn't mind one bit. Quite the opposite. You could see that it truly made him happy and satisfied with how life turned out.

After so much pain and suffering, he was getting content and comfortable with what the two of you had now.

When you made your way over to the front door, you saw Levi sitting on the bench right outside, talking to a pair of siblings you knew very well. The toy store next to your tea shop belonged to their parents, so the ten-year-old twins used to come over pretty often. Both of them loved talking to Levi and having a cup of their favorite raspberry mint tea, which Levi mixed together, especially for them.

You watched them for a little while until the kid's mom closed the toy store and they all headed home. Both of the boys stopped just before turning the corner, and they waved to Levi one last time. He waved back with his right hand, giving the kids a small smirk.

„They loved your new cookies,“ Levi said even before looking at you.

„I'm not that surprised, they love anything with raspberry flavor,“ you chuckled and came to sit down next to him. „Are you okay? It was a pretty busy day.“ One of your hands came to rest on his right knee, squeezing it lovingly.

„Yeah, I'm fine. Needed to walk around a little, my lower back was hurting from all that damned sitting.“

You nodded understandingly. „Just don't be here for too long, it's cold. I don't want you to get sick.“ Leaning closer, you kissed his cheek, resting your head against his.

„Tch, I don't get sick that easy, you should know that,“ he teased you, wrapping one of his arms around you tightly. „What are those two doing inside?“

„Finishing up the sweets.“ 

„Are they staying for dinner as well?“

„Yeah,“ you nodded, kissing his cheek one more time before standing up. It was way too cold to be sitting outside. „I'll walk them to the train station after dinner, you can stay home and rest.“

„The hell? And let you wander the streets alone in the dark?“

„I can take care of myself,“ you reminded him but knew it was a lost case. He would never let you go to the train station and back alone. Not when it got already dark outside. „Okay, we'll walk them there together. Gabi's father is going to wait for them back home.“

Levi nodded and pushed himself to his feet as well. You reached out your hand towards him, but he didn't take it. So while he slowly limped back to the shop, you stayed close in case he would need to lean against you for support. With gritted teeth, he walked back inside and with a pained expression sat back into his wheelchair. It was very noticeable just how exhausted this short walk made him. But you were glad that he was trying to stay as active as possible.

The sun outside was setting, casting dark shadows over the shop's interior – the little round tables with wooden chairs, pictures on the wall, the counter with the cash register, or the shelves behind it with many kinds of tea. The place always seemed cozy and welcoming, during any time of the day.

„Okay, let's clean up and go home. We'll cook something delicious for dinner. What would you like?“ you asked Gabi and Falco with a smile. Every time they came to visit, you cooked one of their favorite foods. It was a little act of kindness you loved doing for them.

While the two of them were debating on what should be for dinner, Levi reached for your hand and pulled you towards him, making you sit down on his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly, his head resting against your shoulder.

„What is it?“ you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Levi shook his head and closed his eyes, gently stroking your side. The content and relaxed expression on his lovely face almost melted your heart. There was nothing better than seeing him like this and knowing just how big of a progress he made since the Rumbling.

„I love you so much,“ you whispered, kissing the top of his head. Gabi and Falco were still talking, not minding what the two of you were doing. „And... I just love all of this. Everything we have now and how we live. I guess we finally found what we were looking for.“

„I think we found even more,“ Levi said in a quiet tone, his body relaxing against yours, while his arms stayed tightly around your waist, keeping you close. „Thank you, Y/N. For everything.“

It was during moments like this one when you hoped that your fallen friends and comrades were watching. And hopefully smiling at the life the two of you built together. Because looking back to old times, this was what all of them fought so hard for – a quiet and peaceful life. A life that didn't need to be lived in a constant state of hypervigilance. The kind you and Levi now got the chance to wake up to every single morning. 

All the fighting was done and all the pain was slowly but surely fading away. Every single day was a little brighter and easier. Your hearts hurt a little less with each passing week. After almost two decades of fighting for humanity, you could enjoy the sweetest reward.

Together.

As you looked over at Falco, you found him and Gabi happily grinning at the two of you. Before you said anything, the boy handed you a raspberry cookie while he and Gabi shared the last one.

„I'm happy they were such a hit,“ you chuckled and broke the cookie in half, giving one of them to your husband.

With a smirk, Levi kissed your cheek and ate his half of the cookie in one bite. Before you knew it, he took your half as well and popped it in his mouth, not giving you a single second to intervene. You playfully furrowed your brows, holding his face gently and kissing him right before the kids. Only because he hated it so much and wanted to pull away immediately, mumbling something about how childishly you were acting.

„Guess you liked my cookies the best,“ you chuckled and gave him one more sweet kiss, discretely licking the raspberry flavor from his lips.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

I got all these issues. Will you be my prescription?

Bucky Barnes x POC!Reader

Wordcount: 4462

Summary:

A fight about your safety ensues when pictures of the two of you together get leaked by a fellow agent and former one night stand. He's livid that your relationship is exposed to the world and now could be used against him. You could care less who knows about your relationship. You've been together over a year, you knew what dating the former Winter Soldier brought with it. No, you're pissed that some bitch, who doesn't even count as an ex, is trying to ruin the best thing to happen to you.

Warnings:

Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Feels, Some Humor, Protective Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Song Lyrics, Inspired by Music, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, P In V Sex

Notes:

Hello Heathens! This oneshot came out of nowhere one evening when I was listening to music on my phone while working on another fic. A cover of the song "Issues" (originally performed by Julia Michaels) came on and my mind was flooded with this idea and story that I need to flesh out. I have no control of my muse. I just write the stories she tells me to. HAPPY READING! Lyrics for the song Issues by Cameron Bedell will be in bold. ( Here's a link for you to check out the song ) Thoughts in italic.

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

You're trying to get him to understand that the real problem is the agent and not the exposure. Yes you now have to be more careful when you're somewhere without him. But it's not much different than what you were already doing.

"If she leaked us being together what makes you think she wouldn't leak other more sensitive information. Hell, she already could have!" You argue, trying to get him to see the whole picture.

"I don't give a fuck about some jealous drunken hook up who still feels jaded. I never wanted you in danger. That's why it was so important to keep us hidden." He snaps back.

Your emotions finally get the best of you. "I never WANTED to be hidden James! I went along with it because it was something you needed that made you feel secure. One less reason I might leave." 

You shake your head as the tears begin to well in your eyes. "We're over a year in. I thought we'd be out to more than just people with enough clearance to be made aware. Makes me feel like your dirty little secret. I don't want to be that forever."

"Keeping your attachment to me hidden keeps you safe. What about that dont you understand?" He's so lost in his fear that he can't see things clearly.

"No. It leaves me vulnerable and easier to take with no one noticing because they're unaware of my relationship to the deadliest man I know." You calmly state. That seems to get his attention. "How can anyone fear the repercussions of even trying to get close to me like that without knowing who to be afraid of?" 

He just stands there. Tension radiating off his body. 

You let out an exasperated sigh and start walking to your door. "I think you need to go Bucky. I can't do this with you right now. You're so lost in your anger and fear that you're not thinking clearly. And I'm just plain pissed off. I don't want either of us to say something we regret later."

A look of shock crosses his face. "Doll, you can't be serious? We just got exposed. You're not safe."

"No one knows where I live, yet."

"Key word, yet."

"James." You reach for the knob. "Please just give me some time alone. I know where to find you when I'm ready. We both need to think about things from all angles."

He walks up to you and pins you to the door with a soul crushing kiss. Putting all of his fear and love into that one small gesture. He pulls away and allows you to open the door. Just as he crosses the threshold he turns his head your way. "This is far from over, doll. Don't keep me waiting too long."

You spend the next couple of days working through your thoughts with your guitar. Letting the music take you where you need to be. Mending the frayed edges and soothing the aches.

Through your musical therapy a song develops. Something that you think might help ease things between the two of you. Because, let's face it, you miss your man something fierce.

Every imperfect piece of him. Responding to his texts just to let him know you’re safe and alive, just isn't going to cut it anymore. Someone has to yield first, and it looks like this time around, it’s going to have to be you.

Mind made up on what you are going to do, you decide to give Steve a call.

It rings three times before he picks up. “Rogers.”

“Hey Stevie. How’s he holding up?” You waste no time asking what you so desperately want to know.

“Hey, Dollface.” He sighs. “‘Fraid to say, he’s not doing too great. Seems his already short fuse has shortened significantly. Had to take him off the training roster for the recruits because too many couldn't keep up with his demands or got injured.”

“Shit.” You shake your head even though you know he can't see it. “I was hoping he had calmed down some by now. I’m sorry Steve. I didn’t think he'd still be affected this much.”

“It’s not your fault. You know how overprotective he is in general. Add a threat, from the inside at that, and he goes nuclear.” He excuses.

“Well, I think I may have a solution to our problems.” You admit. “If not at least a band-aid for the time being. I’m going to need you and Sam’s help though. If you're willing of course.”

“I’m all ears. Want me to grab Sam so you don't have to explain it twice?”

“That would be great actually. I’d appreciate not having to spend more energy than I need too.”

“Alright. Hang on a sec.” You hear shuffling, followed by a door opening. Then the tell tale sound of a knock and a muffled voice before a door opens once more. “Hey Sam. Mind if I come in? I’ve got Buck’s best girl on the phone and she has something she wants to go over with us.”

“No problem man. Come on in.” Sam replies.

Once safely behind Sam’s door he places the phone on speaker. “Okay, doll. Tell us your plan.”

“It’s pretty simple really. I’ve used my time alone to reflect and process things the best way I know how. With my guitar.” You lightly chuckle. “Anyway. Long story short, I wrote something for James and I want to surprise him by performing it in front of you all.”

“All of us?” Sam asks.

“Well, just the Avengers. A small little private concert type of thing. Though I'll only be singing the one song halfway through. My friend has a great band that I think you all would love. If you can get Tony to hire them for the night to do a private show for you guys, I can sneak my performance in.”

“So Bucky will know about the private show but not that you're a part of it?” Steve questions for clarification.

“Yup.” You pop the ‘P’ for emphasis. “Think you can sway Tony to make this happen?”

“Seeing as how this should improve Bucky’s temperament and save us doing extra recruit rotations and paperwork. I don't see Tony being a problem. Text us when you know if your friend's band can do it and we’ll take it from there.” You can hear the relief in Steve’s voice over your plan.

“Thank you guys. I owe you big time.” You declare.

“Just help us get the normal grumpy old man back. That’s all we ask.” Sam imparts.

“That’s the plan.”

Tonight’s the night. You rub your hands anxiously against your thighs as the town car Tony sent for you cruises leisurely down the long Compound driveway. You surpass the front roundabout and make your way around to the back, near the private entrance and garage the Avengers use.

You text your friend Marco, the lead singer of Bow & Dagger, that you’ve arrived and to send someone out to get you. Of course your ex Chase, the bassist, is the one to greet you. He leans his body against the door frame, a smirk plastered across his face, as he scans your body from the bottom up. “Looking good Firefly.”

You roll your eyes at the use of your old nickname. “Still using that outdated moniker Chase?” 

He quirks a brow at you. “You’ll always be my firefly. Maybe even more so now that you’ve gotten away. I’ll forever be chasing your light.”

You can't help but laugh at him. “Does that lyrical prose still work on the female population nowadays?”

“I’ve had no complaints.” He shrugs. “It used to work on you just fine if I remember correctly. Hell you used to toss it right back at me.”

“The blessed naivety of youth. Thank the Goddess that I grew up and my priorities shifted. I’m a more well rounded individual now. Less in search of useless validation.”

“Ouch.” He clutches his chest. “Still got those talons, I see.”

“Never leave home with them.” You wink at him. “You gonna let me in so you can make that paycheck I’m sure is well above your normal fee, or stand there all night?”

“Get in here smartass before Marco lays in to me for wasting time.” He moves aside.

You walk into the pseudo green room and are immediately smothered in a bear hug. “Hiya Stu. I’m happy to see you too.” You say into his barreled chest. “Mind letting up a bit. I kinda need to feel my fingers in order to play.”

He quickly lets go, only to place his hands on your shoulders and stare at you with a dopey smile across his face. “I’m sorry girlie. I’m just so happy to see ya. It’s been too long.”

“It has. I’m sorry ‘bout that.” You wince. “Life kind of got away from me. You know how it goes.”

“I’d say all is forgiven, seeing as you booked us this sweet gig.” Marco butts in, scooping you up in a hug himself. 

“Fuck yeah! I finally get to shoot my shot with the Black Widow.” Stu exclaims.

“It’s the least I could do. You guys have no idea how much you're helping me out here.”  You walk over to the couch and place your travel case down.

“What exactly are we helping you with anyway?” Chase inquires.

“Some Rom-Com grand gesture type shit” You smugly state.

“No shit?” Stu asks.

“I speak only the truth.” 

“You gonna tell us who the unlucky schmuck is?” Chase snipes.

“With that attitude, you’re just going to have to wait and see.” You give him a smile to rival the Cheshire Cat’s. “The look on your face is going to be fucking priceless. I can’t wait.”

Before he can respond with some dickish comment, there’s a knock on the door, followed quickly by Tony and Steve entering the room.

Steve makes his way over to you. “Hey Dollface. You ready to get this show on the road?”

“I’m all set if these knuckleheads are ready to head on out there.” You turn towards the boys. “Have you guys met your benefactor for tonight's little private concert?”

“Negatory little lady.” Stu speaks up first, walking over to Tony. “Howdy Mr. Stark. The name’s Stu. Bow and Dagger’s drummer and loveable goofball. That’s Chase. Bassist and resident fuckboy. And the merose looking fucker over there is Marco our lead guitar and vocals.”

“That suits you.” Tony imparts. “You certainly give off drummer vibes. Lots of energy. Any questions on how this is gonna work?” 

“I wouldn't mind a breakdown.” You pipe up.

"Here's how it's going to go." Steve grabs everyone's attention with his Captain voice. "We're going to gather the team in the common room where Sam and I set up a stage earlier. Tony is going to introduce the band. You'll play 3 songs and announce your taking a 5 min smoke break. That's when Dollface here is going to make her way on stage and do her thing." 

He smiles over at you. "Hopefully if all goes well you guys will finish your set and then you're welcome to stay for dinner and hang out."

"Solid plan golden boy. You come up with that all on your own." You joke.

"Always with the smart quips. I'll remember that. Now let's get moving before the team gets restless and wanders off."

So far the evening was flowing seamlessly. As Bow & Dagger played the last notes on your third song, your nerves decided to make themselves known. You watched them announce their break and leave the stage. 

Before you could sabotage yourself, you made your way onto the tiny stage and turned to the group of mostly stunned superheroes. “Hey guys. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting. I have some things I need to get off my chest and thought I might provide some intermission entertainment in the process.”

You roam the space for Bucky and lock eyes with his Steel blues, seated on the sofa next to Steve. Taking a deep breath, your fingers begin to strum the opening chords, the team looking on in curiosity over what may come out of your mouth.

Sustaining eye contact you let the lyrics flow out of you as if there is no one else in the room.  

Mmm mm mm I'm jealous I'm overzealous When I'm down I get real down When I'm high, I don't come down I get angry Baby, believe me I could love you just like that And I could leave you just this fast

You take in his demeanor, stock still but engaged nonetheless.  

But you don't Judge me 'Cause if you did, baby I would judge you too No, you don't judge me 'Cause if you did, baby I would judge you too

The only thought in your head is Here goes nothing, as you put your whole heart into the chorus.

'Cause I got issues But you got 'em too So give 'em all to me And I'll give mine to you Bask in the glory Of all our problems 'Cause we got the kind of love It takes to solve 'em Yeah, I got issues And one of them is how bad I need you

You breathe a little easier when you notice him start to soften. Just absorbing the piece of your soul you're sharing with everyone. 

You do shit on purpose You get mad and you break things Feel bad, try to fix things But you're perfect Poorly wired circuit And got hands like an ocean Push you out Pull you back in

A subtle smile crosses his face at the truth in your words. The picture of him that many do not get to see. You really get into it as you run through the bridge and chorus one more time. Now it’s time to bring it home and woo your man.

Ooohhh, Need you OOOOOOH AHHHH I got issues You got 'em too So give 'em all to me And I'll give mine to you Bask in the glory Of all our problems 'Cause we got the kind of love It takes to solve 'em Yeah, I got issues And one of them is how bad I need you Ooh hoo hoo I got issues  One of them is how bad I need yoou Issues And one of them is how bad I need you

You could hear a pin drop in the room as Bucky rises from his seat and makes his way over to the stage. You swallow and try to get your breathing under control as you have no idea what is going to happen. 

Before you know it, he’s standing in front of you, broad chest heaving. He brings his hands up and cups your face before pulling you into an earth shattering kiss.

You forget that you have an audience until the sound of their cheers and clapping reaches your ears. You think you not only hear but see the muted flash of a camera through your closed lids.

You come up for air to see Bucky with the most lovesick expression on his face. “You did all that for me?” 

You nod your head. “Figured it was the best way to get you to listen and understand.”

“Fuck I love you.”

“Love you too James.”

Sam rushes over to the stage. “Man, I live streamed the whole thing. The people are going crazy over ya’ll.”

“You did what?!” You both blurt out.

“I streamed it. The world already knows about you. Might as well milk it. No need to thank me, damn.”

Bucky moves to jump off the stage and rush Sam. You barely catch him in time. “Hey. Don't let him get to you okay. You know how much he loves to rile you up.”

“Sorry, doll. He’s just such a douchebag sometimes. We were having a moment.” He apologizes, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“It’s fine.” You nip at the flesh as it passes over once more. “What I really want to know is if performing the song in front of everyone was okay? I just wanted you to hear me out and understand my side of things. I didn't want to embarrass you or anything.”

“Doll. Stop rambling.” You shut your mouth. “I loved it. Honestly I liked that they got to see how much you feel for me.”

You beam up at him. “Good.”

“Now I have some displays of affection I need to show you myself. Come on babygirl.” He pulls you off stage and heads towards the hallway that connects with his, Steve and Sam’s wing of the compound.

You’re pulled inside Bucky’s room, tripping over your sneakers as he hurriedly maneuvers you through his space. “James, slow down. I’m gonna eat shit if you keep it up.”

He stops in front of the bed, turning toward you. “Shut up.” He grabs your waist and tosses you down on to the mattress, climbing on and caging you in with his massive frame. “You’ve used that mouth enough tonight. Now it’s my turn.” 

With no time to catch your breath, he renders you incapable of responding by capturing your lips with his own. Kissing life back into your body, as your tongues dance a tango only you know. 

He takes his time as his hands roam your curves. Sneaking his cool metal digits under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He begins to remove your shirt, placing his flesh hand  underneath your lower back as he slowly lifts your torso to pull your shirt over your head. You raise your arms in aid, grazing your fingertips across the stubble along his jaw when he tosses your shirt aside.

He trails his hands down your flesh until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. With a quick snap of his vibranium fingers your button is undone, your zipper quickly following suit. He starts to slide the denim down, tapping your hip to get you to raise them so that he can remove them entirely.

Leaning back on his haunches, he grabs the back of his shirt with his flesh hand and pulls it off. His lust blown blue eyes focused on you draped over his bed sheets.  “So fucking beautiful.” He runs his hands up your legs, gripping the waistband of your panties when he reaches your hips and takes his time removing them from your body. 

“Take your bra off for me, babygirl.” You lean up on your elbows, reach behind your back and unclasp the garment, letting it fall away from you body. 

Leaning forward, he ghosts kisses along all of your exposed skin. Mapping out a trail of pleasure and gooseflesh. Teasing first one and then the other nipple with his tongue, ending each with a deep suction. 

The slow paced teasing continues, driving your need for him higher. He stops his trek at your mound, hot breath blowing puffs of air on the cooling slick leaking from your folds. “So beautiful and all mine.” He runs a cool metal finger along your drenched lips. He ensnares you in his gaze. “That’s right, isn't it, babygir? This pretty little pussy is mine to do with as I please?”

“Yes. All of this is yours.” You pant out. Delirious for him to do something more than tease.

“Damn right it is.” He runs a stripe from taint to clit with his skillful tongue. Circling your sensitive little bundle nerves, pulling a moan out of your throat. Having had enough of taking his time slowly torturing you he thrusts his tongue inside your aching center. The thick muscle massaging your silken walls, giving them something to finally clamp on to. 

“Mmm. James. Fuck. Your tongue feels so good baby.” Your hands anchor themselves in his hair, just enjoying the ride. But that’s not enough for him. He wants you desperate and begging before he gives in and makes you come apart on his cock.

He pulls his tongue out, swirling it along your folds, seeking out every drop of your essence. Moving the appendage upward to lightly circle figure eight patterns on your clit, bringing you right to the edge. So close to falling over that cliff into utter bliss before he pulls away.

“No! Why’d you stop? I was so close.” You sit up, reaching out for his face, wanting to drag him back to your pulsing center.

He scoots back off the bed. “The first time you come after sending me away and keeping your distance, is going to be while my cock is deep inside you.” He unbuckles his belt, drawing your eyes down to his hands working on divesting himself of the last of his garments.

You're hypnotized by his movements. Mouth watering as you wait for his thickness to spring free from its confines. Time seems to stand still as his pants drop to the floor. “You went commando.” You whisper out, licking your suddenly dry lips.  

“Wonderful coincidence. I wasn't expecting to see you tonight and Steve came pounding on my door right as I got out the shower to tell me I had to come be a part of the festivities. I just threw on the closest clothes.” He shrugged, wrapping his metal fist around his length, giving himself a few pumps as he drank you in with a predatory gaze.

“Lay back down, babygirl.” He husks out. The command sends a fresh wave of slickness to your core, anticipating what’s to come, as you slowly lie back.

“Spread those luscious thighs for me, doll. Present me with my perfect little pussy.” He grunts out as he continues to stroke himself, a bead of precome precariously close to dropping from the tip as he places a knee down on the bed.

You open your legs wide enough to show off your glistening folds. Following his command, but holding back just enough to make him growl and push your thighs open the rest of the way. 

“You really wanna play with me right now, babygirl? After keeping this body away from me for days?” He rubs his cock between your cleft, tip bumping against your engorged and still so sensitive clit.

You squirm and whimper, just wanting him to be inside of you already. That halted orgasm, inching its way back to the surface every time his hot length grazes your bundle of nerves. 

“I’m sorry, James. Please. Need you inside me.” You plead. “It’s been too long since you filled me up.”

“You’re sorry huh?” You quickly nod your head. “Gonna let me wreck this pussy? Ruin you for anyone else? Milk me dry like the cumdrunk little slut that you are?”

“Yes. Yes. Please.” You beg, just wanting him to finally take you, reclaim you as his own.

“As you wish, babygirl.” He slams forward to the hilt, splitting you open with his girth.

He doesn't even give you a moment to get reacquainted with the size of him deep inside you. He just pulls back and thrusts in harder. Setting up a pace that just makes your brain go fuzzy and every nerve-ending sings in pleasure.

“Fuuuck. Look at you doll.” He grunts out. “Already cock drunk and I’ve barely gotten started. Pussy’s gripping me so tight baby. She doesn't want to let me go.”

Your mind can't function enough to produce anything other than moans, whimpers and wails of pleasure. You’re flying a serotonin high you are not ready to come down from yet. The coil in your core tightening as you dance closer and closer to the knife's edge of orgasm. Waiting for the moment when you dive off the edge into ecstasy.

Almost as if sensing that your climax is impending, Bucky picks up the pace, swiveling his hips and grinding his pelvis down on your clit for added stimulation. “Come on, baby. Come for me, pretty girl. I can feel your walls quivering around me. Give in. Fall apart on my cock. Show me how good I make you feel.”

That’s it. That’s all you need to lose yourself and let go completely. Surrendering to the euphoric bliss, screaming out for the whole compound to hear.

A rainbow of stars detonate behind your eyes as you writhe beneath him, back arching off the mattress before you go limp, laying in a state of bonelessness.

“Don’t pass out on me now doll. I’m so close. Little pussy is squeezin’ me so tight.” His pumps become erratic as he chases his own high. “Don’t you want me to fill  you up? Have me leaking out of you for days?”

You just nod and whisper out. “Please. Full.” Not able to formulate more than two words in your current state.

It was all the validation that he needed to hear to stop holding back and release the days worth of his seed into your waiting womb. Painting the walls white with rope after rope of his spend. 

It felt like it went on forever with how much he was pouring into you, until his dick stopped twitching and he collapsed on your chest. Catching his breath and covering your face in sweet kisses as you both come back down to earth.

You stayed locked together, your pussy warming his cock, as you both let your fingertips roam along the other's skin. Allowing yourselves time to just revel in the moment of the new direction your relationship is heading.

"You sure you're okay with the world knowing about us, doll? You’re not afraid that you'll no longer be safe?" He asks into your neck. 

"Like I said before, I feel no less safe than I did before, James.” You tell him with conviction. ”Plus now, I get to rub it in everyone's face that the White Wolf is all mine.” You grin like the cat that got the cream. “You're truly stuck with me now, Bucky."

He chuckles. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He places a soft kiss on your lips.

Just as the kiss deepens and you start the journey towards round two, there’s a knock at the door, followed by Sam’s muffled voice. "You guys done making up yet? Steve wont let us eat until you guys get back out here."

You both can’t help but laugh. "Tell Stevie we'll be right out but we're not staying long. I've got time to make up for."

“TMI man! A simple ‘Be right out’ would have been enough, Buck.” Sam scoffs as we walks back to the common area.

“Come on, doll. Let’s get dressed before Stevie comes looking for us next.”

If you made it to the end, THANK YOU! If you liked it please feel free to let me know (but it's not required); and if you didn't, that's okay too, I still thank you for even giving it a chance.

[skyfallslayer]

The Darkness In Me || Story 3: Kingpin & Daredevil

-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?

🖤 Story Summary: Your night trying to save a kid takes a dangerous turn. Now fighting to stay alive after a possible life threatening injury, you soon find yourself face-to-face with the man that runs this city’s underworld: The Kingpin. Aka… your childhood friend.

🖤 Date: 12/06/23

🖤 Rating: Mature

🖤 Word Count: 12, 842 (Damn o-0)

🖤 Warning: Blood; Gore; Talks of Child Abuse; Child Death(s); Child Manipulation; Mental Break; Murdering and Allusion to Murder; Non Consensual Touching(?) Looks like it but its not); Seductive Talk; Implied Seductive Manipulation; Slight Karedevil; Implied Frank/Karen: Past Killing of a Love One; Talks of Betrayal; Death of a Love One; Dark!Matt; Yeah, Matt gets a fucking warning in this one (I mean, he ain't the Kingpin for nothing); Russian & Japanese Via Google Translate (not super accurate, I apologize). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

-Let me know if I missed anything-

🖤 A/N: Oh boy, this was tough but fun to write! Hopefully nothing is too overwhelming for y'all. Alrighty then… we're finally getting to Matt's POV of things, which I honestly think I enjoyed writing more than reader's (*le gasp*). But yeah, here's a bit of the flirty and charming Matt Murdock we all know and love with a dash of darkness. Enjoy!

There’s no fucking way this was real. Was the first thing you thought. Maybe it was the next one. Or the next one, or– Oh, geez. You really didn’t know what to think. 

Here you are thinking the whole time that he’s the same as you; That despite your rough childhoods, you both managed to put the nightmares aside and build the life you guys wanted. You both had your hopes and dreams, you both got the jobs you desired, you both made a friend that had your back. But now…

You don’t know when or where or how this even happened. You don’t know why he’s on this route. You don’t know why you just watched him kill a man for screwing up his ‘responsibility’. You don’t even know what to think of this situation, what to think of…

Him.

Matthew Murdock, Your childhood friend; The person you were starting to feel more for. The person that was none other than–

.

.

.

The King of Darkness himself.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| Four Days Ago || 

The doors slammed simultaneously, the both of you sighing as you laid back in the chair as your partner, Frank, rests his forehead against the steering wheel before lightly tapping it a few times. Your mornings had started off with a call of distress from an elderly man claiming that he had been robbed. Turns out, the poor man just had dementia. So after a talk with his son who stepped out to run an errand, they ended up back her with slight annoyance. 

Frank sighs again, finally bringing his head up. “I know he has health problems, but still… you think your stuff’s gone and you call 911?” 

“Yeah…” You rub your eyes, dark circles dusting them. “This is going to be a long day.”

“Of course it will be.” He starts the car, sitting up straighter. “Breakfast?”

“Please.” Like you could turn that down after not eating anything for a few hours straight.

He pulls away from the curb, driving in the direction of a local diner that he’s mentioned a few times. “So, Y/N… how are you adjusting to the move?” He said at his attempt at small talk (he didn’t speak much if he didn’t need to, you noticed, so I guess you could say this was a good sign).

“Me? I’m actually doing pretty good. I know how Hell’s Kitchen ticks so–” You shrugged. “Except for when some of the places I’ve been to have disappeared, I didn’t really need to adjust to anything.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been to Hell’s Kitchen before?”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh, shit. I guess I didn’t tell you. I was born here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I lived here till I was eight.”

“Damn. So it’s been awhile.”

“Yep.”

“What made you move away in the first place?” Frank asked, making you pale. But he didn’t seem to notice since his eyes were on the road. “Y/N?”

“Uh, well…” You frown thinking about that day. You sigh, trying not to play with your hands like you were a kid. “My parents passed. Car accident, uh– Truck ran a red light and hit up straight on.”

“Oh, my god.” He begins, and you hold your hand up.

“Before you apologize for asking, don’t. You didn’t know.” 

“Yeah, but still.” He frowns worriedly. “You were… eight? That’s rough.”

“It was, but I had to accept it pretty quickly when I moved to California with my Aunt and Uncle.” You explain, feeling your heart clench at one of the names.

“Quickly?”

“My Aunt wasn’t the nicest woman.”

Frank scoffed, but not at you, but at everything else. “I got to hand it to you, Y/N, you turned out pretty well. To me, your story sounds like the makings of a villain’s origin.”

You chuckled. “So I’m not the only one to have that thought.” You reply, half joking as the car pulled into an open spot.

“I mean it though.” Frank says, turning the engine off. “You’re strong. Stronger than you think. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost my family like that.” He opens his door. “Alright. Enough depressing shit. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

You snort. “What? Did you not eat before your shift last night?” 

“You think I know how to cook?” He smirks. “I leave the cooking to someone else.”

“I could see that.” You teased, following him inside.

“Well it’ll be dinner when our shifts are over. We should get burgers.”

“I wish I could. Unfortunately I got dinner plans with friends.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Oh, Y/N!” Foggy shouts as soon as he spots you, standing up and waving you over. “So glad you could make it.”

“Well thanks for the invite.” You said, with a smile, hoping the makeup you put on hid how tired you were (Seriously, why did you talk yourself into being a vigilante and a cop at the same time?).

“Y/N, this is Marci.” He said, gesturing to his lovely wife, who shakes your hand.

“Hello, Marci. It’s finally nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise.” Marci said as you guys took a seat. “I swear, he talks about you more than Matthew does.”

“Hey, she gives me all the juicy details my dear friend leaves out. That’s all.” Foggy defends, making her roll her eyes playfully.

You chuckle. “So, speaking of the devil. Where is he?”

He frowns, almost feeling like it was somehow his fault. “Unfortunately, poor Matty can’t make it tonight.”

“No?” You copy his expression. “How come?”

“Says he’s got something important to do.” He sighs dramatically. “I swear he’s got some weird night time hobby. He’s always disappearing.”

“Sounds like something he would do.” You smirk as the joke rolls off your tongue. “You think he’s a secret mob boss or something?”

“Honestly, I was thinking more like Batman, but wouldn’t be surprised with that either.” Foggy said with a shrug, before picking up his menu. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Never heard that one before.” Marci said, hiding her laugh.

“Hey.”

This was nice. You finally made some acquaintances that you could now call your friends. Although this dinner would be a bit bittersweet without Matt, you couldn’t complain, you were just glad you were here, living the moment.

However…

Deep down…

.

.

.

You still wonder what he’s doing.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Punch. Punch.

.

“Is something going on with you? You know you can always talk to me.” Foggy said, clasping his friendly hand onto his shoulder with a warm smile.

.

Punch. Punch.

.

“I thought you were supposed to help me.” Wilson Fisk said as he stared in disbelief from across the table; his hands were aching to strangle his lawyer as they stayed handcuffed to the metal flat top.

“But I am helping you.” Matt replies, his calm complexion suddenly morphed into something wicked that even made the ex-mob boss shiver in his seat. “The Defense is just doing a better job than me.”

.

Punch. Crack. Punch.

.

“You’ve done a wonderful job, Matthew.” The older woman, who happened to be the leader of assaination group that took him in, Alexandra Reid, smile so proudly at him as she grasps his shoulders. “You… are the most perfect soldier I’ve seen in a long time.” She chuckles. “Go spread chaos, my love.”

.

Punch. Crack. Pain. Whine. Punch.

.

“You fight well, kid.” His old and blind mentor said, making his heart skip with pride until… “But not well enough. You disappointment.”

.

Punch. Pain. Pain. Whine. Pain. Punch.

.

“Is Mama really gone?” Matt croaked as held his father’s hand, laying in bed as his head started to go numb from the medicine. But he didn’t need sight to know what expression his dad was making.

“Yeah, Matty. She is.”

.

Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Crack. Punch. Punch.

.

“You really are leaving?” He asked, watching his best friend’s face morph into hurt and sadness.

“Yeah. I am.” You could feel yourself starting to cry. “But I don’t want to.”

He grabs your hand, holding it tight. “Then don’t. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t go.”

“Matty, I don’t have a choice. I have to go.”

.

Matt lets out a low growl as keeps pounding his fists over and over into his ‘sparring’ partner. In the boxing ring he had the man backed into one of the corners, flat on his bottom as blood sprayed everywhere; small bone fragments starting to stick out of his bruised flesh too, But he didn’t care. This was just someone he could easily replace, so he picked up the speed, turning the dial full. Striking over, and over, and over, and over again. And again. And again. And again. And–

“If you don’t stop you’ll cripple him. Or worse.” The blond Karen Page, his advisor, said as she entered the room, making him pause for a second.

“Should I care?” Matt snipped, voice sounding like acid that could melt anything it touches.

Karen’s jaw clenched, but she kept her composure. “You should care, seeing that our number of men is declining. Fast.”

Matt groans and punches the man again, surely KO-ing him this time. “I turn my head away for one second, and my men just disappear in a blink of an fucking eye. They’re all ending up on police departments’ doors so fast, It’s not even safe enough to let them go without some suspicion. Fuck!” He kicks him in the shin, getting a crack. “It’s all because of that fucking asshole in a mask! Do you have any idea where he came from?”

“No, sir. I asked around. Nobody knows. And the reports I… ‘borrowed’ shows that there’s no reports of a mutant, or superpowered individual other than Ghost-Spider in the last ten years or so.”

Matt pauses, thinking. “You think they come from out of state?” 

“It’s a possibility.” Karen quickly notices his silence. “Someone comes to mind, sir?”

“No. I was over stepping.” He sighs, holding out his hand as he’s thrown a towel. “Did the delivery arrive smoothly like I asked?”

“It’s on its way. Should be there soon.”

“Good.” He throws the towel around his neck. “I need a shower, and send someone to bandage him.”

“Shall I tell the driver the penthouse or regular?”

Matt pauses again for another second. “Regular. I need to go to work tomorrow.”

“Very well then. I’ll call him now.” Karen bows his head. “Goodnight, Sir.”

“Likewise.” He says, while exiting the ring and into the locker room, still burning with rage that keeps on growing. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Stretching out in your new pajamas, you casually let yourself float around your apartment, excitement (or I guess pride) ran through your veins as you read the next article about your alter ego ‘Daredevil’. The local news lately has been flooded with nothing but articles about you. The next one made you grin, some twenty year old blogger was geeking out how fast you were in some reports and sightings.

You chuckle, lips curling in a smirk. “Damn right, I’m fast.” You didn’t have enhanced speed for nothing. Besides that, you were also cursed gifted with levitation, superhuman reflexes and stamina, and lastly, psionics; Something that you can manipulate in many different ways. It wasn’t as glorious as when your mother would do it, but you were trying.

I wonder how Uncle Pietro would have felt if he knew I had his speed. You frown, shaking your head when a gruesome memory crosses your mind.

Gosh. Why am I living so much in the past all of sudden? Why is everything flooding in quickly? You’ve been pretty good about not reliving your past over the years, but now… you can’t seem to get away from it.

I wonder why? You perk up when a knock comes from your door. You rotated slowly and gently landed on your bare feet, trekking across the room.

“Coming!” You call out, fixing your top before opening the door. You were met with a familiar sight, just like when you had moved in you saw the white vase at your feet filled with the same color and number of Roses. Looking around with caution again, you saw no one before picking it up, plucking the note off one of the stems. This time it just had a single word which was–

��Sorry.’

You furrow your brows. “What the fuck?” Did whoever sent them know that you were down to your last rose? Did this person know that getting these was intriguing to you? Did they know that this was secretly creeping you out as well?

You scoffed out loud.

Hell…

Why the fuck were you hanging onto the roses if they were driving you crazy anyway?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt does his best the next day to hide the cuts on his hands, and bruises lingering on his body. Although he’s grown used to the smell of blood staining his flesh, he knows everyone else around him is not (And being a blind man certainly didn’t help his cause). He got dressed like usual, skipping the red suit for his normal, freshly pressed, black one. He slips on his shades, grabbing his cane and briefcase by the door before stepping outside; One of his men standing there just like always. Dressed in what looked like a ‘caretaker’ outfit, he puts on the bubbly personality he was instructed to do.

“Morning, Mr. Murdock.” 

“Morning, Anthony.” 

“Taxi’s here like you requested.” 

“Perfect.” Matt starts walking with his men a quarter step behind. Now since they’re out in public, it’s time to start speaking in code. “Still having dinner with the family later?”

“That’s the plan, but you know Brently and his boys are. They’re probably out adventuring around here, waiting to give me a scare.” His response made Matt mentally smile. 

His bodyguards were in their posts like they should be. “Well, we wouldn’t want that for you.” He plays along, feeling for the door handle before pushing it open to the outside world.

“Oh, and don’t forget, you have a doctor’s appointment tonight. A follow up.”

A meeting. He almost forgot about the meeting he set up weeks prior. “Ah, almost slipped my mind.” Matt admits, opening the taxi door to get in but—

The smell is what threw him off. This scent was completely different than what he was used to.

“Where ya heading to, sir?” The driver spoke, which was another unfamiliar thing. 

He frowns, hiding his worriedness. “Mr. Richards?”

“Mr. Richards’ sick. I’m taking his place today.”

And that makes Matt grow quiet, letting his other senses kick in. Other than the scent, he could hear the steady heartbeat slowly start to spike, the knuckles tightening their hold on the steering wheel, and the smell of ink lingering on the man’s neck. Now he’s realized what’s going on.

Sliding back outside, sensing his bodyguard looking at him with concern. “It’s a shame, Mr. Richards is sick.” Matt said, acting like he was scratching his neck but in reality was a signal. His bodyguard trails his eyes subtly inside, confirming what Matt thought the tattoo was. 

A logo for a rebel gang in the area. A real pain in his side, always gutting for him. I guess he should have seen this coming sooner.

“It is. I hope he feels better.” His bodyguard said, still with a smile. “Will you be taking a stroll instead?”

“I will.” Matt pushes away from the vehicle, heading in the direction he needed to go. “Just make sure you take out the trash for me.”

“Of course. I’ll see you later Mr. Murdock.”

Matt listened as his bodyguard shut the back door before getting in the passenger, and took out his side arm, politely telling him to drive. He wishes he could go back and laugh in his ‘kidnapper’s’ face. He’s been in this business long enough to know who he trusts and who he can gut. Even though it can be tiring…

The monster inside him sometimes enjoys the thrill of it all.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He sighs when the knob doesn’t turn, and starts fishing around for his keys; His pocket was like a void sometimes. He brushes off your scent and footsteps as being part of his tired mind, so it still surprised him when you suddenly appeared next to him.

“Wow, look who’s late.” You say, with a cheeky look.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, pausing his actions (guess he should stop brushing the thought of you off).

“Thought I stopped by on my patrol of the neighbourhood. I brought bagels.” You hold the piping hot food up. “And if you’re wondering why the door’s still locked, Foggy had… lots to drink last night.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How hungover is he?”

“Well, not sure on that, but he did call me three times in the middle of the night to talk about the Yankees and how Darth Vader would be great at the sport.”

He chuckles. “Oh. So he’s that drunk.” He finally unlocks and opens the door. “I’ll make coffee.”

You smiled. “Sounds good to me.” 

He started the machine and you walked around again, being nosy as usual. The office still had its characteristics about it, enough to know what side was Matt’s and what side was Foggy.

God, I’ve spent too much time around them. You spotted a stack of papers nearby, printed on it is what looks like an ad and you let your curiosity get the best of you on this one.

“You going to start standing on street corners and pass these out?” You asked, before realizing you didn’t phrase it right. “Sorry. The fliers, I mean?”

He smiles. “I thought that’s what you meant. No, Foggy thought it’d be a good idea to get the word out more.”

“Is business not good or something?” You asked, worriedly. For being in a building like this you thought they had to be doing good. 

“Don’t worry, we are. But we want to branch out more. Marci’s job allows her to travel around New York City, so we’re going to have her put some up whenever she gets the chance.”

“Well that’s good.” You look back at it, admiring the work until something catches your eye. You noticed that each of the men had signed their names on the bottom right above the printed version of it, a nice warm idea to show how ‘cozy’ this place was. But that’s not what was stopping you; There was something… oddly familiar about Matt’s penmanship. 

Where have I–

“Coffee’s ready.” Matt announces, coming out from the kitchenette with two cups.

You smile, subconsciously folding the paper and tucking it away. “Thanks.” You take a sip, the cheap coffee actually tasting pretty good this time around. Then, you noticed something else about him, something more troubling as you jump into action. “You’re bleeding.” 

That catches him off guard. “What?”

“You’re bleeding.” You set your cup down before he could speak and roll up his sleeve. You noticed the deep gash on his forearm, not too big, just deep. You furrow your brows concernedly. “How’d you get this cut?”

Matt keeps his cool, the lie he tells rolls off his tongue with ease. “Curse of a blind man. Can’t see where I’m going.”

“Let me fix you up. Where’s the first aid kit?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Where is it?”

“Y/N–”

“Don’t be a brat, Matty.” You slap him in the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Where is it?”

Now he seems like he was trying to do the same thing. “Really? You’re bringing that name back?” He asked as you hum and nod. “Well… peaches, it’s under the sink.”

“Pfft.” You slap him again as you pass and mumble, “Can’t believe that name is still haunting me.” You grab the kit and examine his arm again, taking a better look. “Looks deep. I could stitch it up?”

“Nah, don’t bother. It’ll heal.” Matt says, trying to calm the nerves he could hear in your voice.

“But it’s deep. I really should.”

“Y/N, it’ll heal. Trust me. Just bandage it.” 

You comply against your better judgment, and start cleaning it up first. “You got some superpower I don’t know about?” You asked, ironically.

“Hmm, maybe, I don’t know.” He grins. “Wouldn’t little peaches like to know that.”

“Oh, my god. Stop.” You blush a bit. “You’re never going to let that go.”

“What? Like I said the last time, I think it’s adorable.”

“No, it’s not.” You shake your head, all embarrassed as you start applying the bandages. “What would you think if I started calling you ‘Bratty-Matty’ again?”

He chuckles, making your heart flutter. “You already did a few times.”

“In public.”

“Oh, well—”

“See? You’ll hate it.”

“No, not necessarily.”

You pause. “Huh?”

“Well, you know, in today’s environment it’s kind of–” His free hand tugs on your badge around your neck, getting closer. “Kinky.”

“Kinky?” You said, with a flush face and slightly intrigued (completely unaware that he could hear your heart racing with excitement). “I didn’t think little… Catholic Matthew Murdock would be into those things.”

His pulse skipped a beat, feeling your hand gently brush the injured one. “Well, we were just children so… we wouldn’t talk about adult stuff now, would we?”

“Oh, certainly not.” You feel his chest press against yours as he closes the gap. “You… like to talk about that stuff?”

“Only with the people I really admire.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” His hand creeps up to the back of your neck, gently bracing you. 

You couldn’t help but moan a little from it, drawing a seductive smile from him. “Matty…”

“I kind of want to share that with you.” He whispers, trying to lock his lips to yours and–

Your walkie suddenly crackles, an order coming through.

You blush. “Sorry.” You reply, trying to unclip from your belt as he steps away to give you space.

“It’s okay.” He says, listening to you ask the operator to repeat and you to take it.

You sigh. “Geez, I’m sorry, Matt. I’ve got to go.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You’re still on duty.” 

“Okay. Thanks.” You start to leave, until you feel him get close to you again (and looking flustered once more).

Matt rubs the back of his neck like a nervous tick. “Hey, uh… would you like to… catch up some more? Just the two of us? Like… over dinner?”

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. “Dinner?” You asked, making sure you heard that correctly. “Like uh… like a date?”

“I was thinking more of a play-date, maybe?” He replies with a half shrug.

“A play-date, huh?” You raise your eyebrow, grinning. “And where would this play-date partake?”

“Oh, I was thinking maybe that Sicilian place in that hotel off 5th?”

“That’s quite the restaurant. You sure?”

“My treat.”

“Alrighty then, hot shot. I’ll see you seven. I’ll wear something nice.”

“You could wear pajamas and I wouldn’t care.” He listens to you laugh a wave goodbye, standing in the doorframe of his office until he hears you no more. His expression fades away into something more serious now. “Brently.”

The office across the way, which was ‘up for lease’, opened up to one of his bodyguards who was awaiting a task. “You called, Boss?”

“Call Karen and tell her to move the meeting I have tonight to tomorrow.”

Brently’s face stays the same, but his tone shifts to concern. “Sir, would that be wise? I mean, they’ve been waiting weeks to have a word from you. You sure they won’t lash out?”

“They should know enough to not even try that. If not, handle it. Understood?”

“Understood.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Did Castle disappear again?” You asked an officer as you entered the office, noticing that he was not lounging around where his desk was. 

“Probably. I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“Figures.”

Seriously, where does he run off too? You should probably ask him, I mean he trusts you enough to tell you, right? You head into the women’s locker room, heading to the row in the back. You quickly examine to see if your lock has been tampered with before putting your bag inside. It’s kind of sad you had to watch you back here, a place you should feel the safest but you don’t. You lock it back up as you hear the door being opened, sounding like two officers coming inside, chatting.

“-surprised she’s not dead yet.”

“I know, right? I’m still amazed.”

You roll your eyes at the gossip and how they sounded like they were teenagers in high school. “Oh, boy…” You whisper, and start to leave, but–

“I wonder what Lieutenant Y/N did to the Boss for him to spare her so far.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat.

Wait, what? 

“I mean, how long has she been here with us? A month? Two?”

“That sounds about right.”

“I mean, she’s survived a lot longer than we expected. Remember Captain Trevor? He refused to follow the program and guess what? A day and a half later he was dead. Bullet embedded in his skull and they ruled it a suicide, but we all know what it is.”

“Yeah.” A sigh, and the next words were like a knife to your heart. “I feel bad for Castle. A hardened soldier like him still felt guilty about doing it. You could see it in his eyes.”

“Yeah. Poor Trevor too. He was young. Castle probably saw his own son in him.”

“Man, this sucks. How has the Lieutenant been living this long?”

“That’s what I’m saying. There’s got to be something to it.”

“I believe it.”

You continue to listen as they talk about something else before grabbing something out of their lockers and leaving. The whole time you had your hand cupped over your mouth, your face went pale. Frank had told you briefly about his ‘program’ kill but…

You didn’t think it would hit so deep. Now all you could think about now was–

.

.

.

Why were you still alive?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You wore a cap sleeve red dress for your date, accompanied with black heels and a purse. You kept your makeup kind of light, and decided to style your hair long today with an exception of a clip for looks. Just as you finished putting some perfume on, you were surprised when you found Matt already at your door.

“Matty?” You said, taken back.

“The one and only.” Was his response, hold out his arm for you to take. “Ready to go?”

You knock yourself out of your trance (that of shock and how good he looked tonight) and lock the door. ���Yeah, of course.” You take his arm and you both guide each other around down the apartment stairs.

“You smell good, by the way.” 

You blush. “Thanks.” Then you mentally slap yourself. “I just realize you can’t see what I’m wearing.”

“I can feel.” He fingers brush the fabric. “Silk?”

“I got it years ago when my precinct was doing this charity-gala event, and haven’t worn it since. It’s red by the way.”

“Ah. I always liked that color on you. Cherry?”

“Apple.” You answered as you get to the last step when the thought from earlier comes back. “Hey, how did you know where I lived?”

“You told me one time.” Matt replies, masking his panic pretty well (God, how did he forget that?).

“I did?” 

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” Maybe it was all those third shifts you’ve been doing lately. “You must have a better memory than I do, ‘cause I don’t.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The restaurant was… way more fancy than you thought it was going to be. I know Matt said he’d treat you but Jesus H. Christ this place was way above your pay grade. The materials they used and decorations you could see knew they were attached to triple digits, and when a menu doesn’t bother showing you the price for something, you knew you were out of your league.

Now I feel kind of guilty mooching off of him. You thought, knowing he was a lawyer but still. Could he really afford this?

“Here’s some glasses for the wine.” Your server said, gently placing them on the table. You quickly now noticed the the brace on his forearm and out curiosity, you asked,

“Your hand okay?” 

“Oh, this? Yeah I’m fine. Lucky actually. I was getting mugged the other day.” He says, and you suddenly realize why he looked so familiar. 

“That’s awful. Sorry to hear that.” Matt replies, as the waiter shrugs.

“Like I said, I was lucky. Thank god that vigilante was nearby. Saved my ass. Just wished I could have thanked him.” You couldn’t help but smile a little while Matt mumbled something incoherent as he continued tracing his fingers over the braille menu.

What’s up with him? You wondered, before tuning back into what your waiter was saying.

“-So, have we decided what we’re eating tonight?” He asked, and the two of you placed your orders before handing the menus back. “I’ll have that out for you shortly.”

“Still not sold on Daredevil?” You asked, pouring a glass of wine for the both of you. 

He thanks you before answering, “Like I said, I just want the right guy to pay.”

“And you think he’s not doing a good job?”

“Well the media thinks he is. I’m not so sure myself sometimes. But I’ll admit, I admire how persistent he is.”

You pause before tilting your head, confused. “Persistent? What do you mean by that?” You took note how he looked like a deer in a headlight just as your waiter came out with the appetizers. By then the subject was changed, something less ‘intense’ and more lighthearted. And by the time your main courses came the two of you were laughing and enjoying yourself, feeling like you two were kids again. 

“Oh, man. I can’t believe you guys actually did that.” You said, mixing around your carbonara with your fork. “How did you and Foggy not get expelled?”

“Good…” He chuckles. “Good question. We really should have, to be honest.”

You hum, staring at him for a minute before feeling a twinge of guilt. You wanted to ask him something that’s been bugging you for a while, and you were not sure if it was the appropriate time or not. You set your utensil down, nervously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“It’s… kind of a debbie-downer.”

“You know I’ll answer it, Y/N.” He says, reassuring. “Shoot.”

Backing out crosses your mind, but you managed to encourage yourself to finally ask, “Why did you stop writing letters to me?” And then you saw his expression again, one that you didn’t know how to place. Why was he so surprised you were asking him certain things tonight? 

You watch him set his own fork down, eternally debating with himself as he takes a deep breath.

“Listen… Y/N, I–”

The sound of something shattering caught both of your attentions, followed by hush voices before it got really loud.

“I know he’s in here! I recognized his cars outside! His people!” A man shouted, his thick accent lingering. A worker shouted at him to get back as he entered the dining hall, catching everyone’s eye now.

“What’s going on?” You said, missing the way the brunette clenches his fists (‘Cause unlike you, he knew exactly who this was).

“I know you’re in here! Тащи сюда свою задницу, ублюдок!” (*Get your ass over here, Bastard!)

“What the hell is babbling about?” You asked, recognizing it was Russian, but didn’t understand it. You watched him get pulled away by a few people, still shouting and kicking like a child throwing a fit. “What do you think that was all about?”

Matt’s hands twitched and ached in his lap, unbeknownst to you. “Um… I don’t–” But then his phone rings, this time you could see the bit of annoyance on his features as he pulls it out.

[‘Brently. Brently. Brently.’]

The automatic voice chimed over and over until he picked it up.

“Sorry. Let me take this.” He says, before you have any say. “Hello?” You watch him talk, the annoyance on his face seemed to progress that was starting to rub off on you. “Alright, then.” He hangs up with a sigh.

“Who’s Brently?” You asked, slightly irritated (and you would be more if he knew he was going to lie next).

“Uh, client. Um, he’s in some legal trouble, I, uh… gotta go bail him out.” Matt replies, scooting his chair back.

You blink in surprise. “What?” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I gotta take responsibility for this.”

“To bail your client out?” He shakes his head, causing you more confusion. “Doesn’t he have a family? Why did you call you to bail him out?”

“Well, I’m… his lawyer, and he calls me so it falls on me.”

Now that just sounded like a load of bull to you. You frown. “So? Make him wait, or call Foggy then. We’re–”

“Foggy’s out with Marci. Don’t want to bother him.” Matt says, cutting you off.

“And we’re not… out? Together? Like him and his wife?”

“Y/N, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, but this is important.”

Now that got your blood boiling. “And this is not?” You asked, standing up yourself and walking away with him calling out your name like a broken record.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt was really surprised that you let him even open the taxi door for you, but he knew you weren’t looking his way with your arms cross and head down with rage (he honestly couldn’t fucking blame you for acting like this). He then walked around and told the driver your address, and told him to drive safe which he complied.

“You Mr. Richards son?” He asked in a low tone that you couldn’t hear.

“Yes, I am.”

“Is he doing better?”

“A little banged up, but he’s alright. Should be back in a few days, Sir.”

“Good.” Then he made a face that makes anyone’s skin crawl. “You make sure nothing happens to her, or I’ll gut inside out and mail it to your dad as a ‘get well’ gift. Understood?”

The driver pales and nods before driving away. Matt then gets in a black tinted SUV, fuming in his seat as his bodyguard rolls the privacy screen down to talk.

“Page has Mr. Anatoly, Boss.” 

“Where are they heading?” He asked, hands aching again as he bounces his leg to confine his anger inside. 

“Usual spot. Shall I drive you over there?”

“Yes.” A grin. “Please.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Here’s a twenty.” You said, as the taxi pulled up to your apartment. “Just keep the change.”

“Uh, no need, uh… Your date paid for it.” The driver explained, waving it off.

You roll your eyes. “Of course he did.” You mumbled, getting out of the vehicle quickly as he bid you goodnight. Well…

That had to be one of the worst dates you’ve ever been on (and you’ve been on a lot). You threw your purse on the kitchen counter, kicking off your heels somewhere in the dark hall before sliding down to a sitting position against the wall. You get that he had an important client, but did he really have to take priority over him rather than spending a nice evening with you? Or better question… Why did he look like you caught off guard so many times tonight? 

What are you hiding, Matt? And that was a question that was burning like candle light.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Karen was sitting in the back of another SUV listening to how Anatoly, the Russian mob member, went on and on about something (to be frank, she was only half listening).

“You were right to reach out to us, although, since we’re being truthful, a call would have been more appropriate.” Karen explains, feeling slightly sorry about what was going to happen to this man.

“Look, I… I wanted to speak with him in person. Try to put the past behind us.” The Russian said, getting a hum which was right on cue for the vehicle to stop. “Why are we stopping?”

“They say the past is etched in stone, but it isn’t. It’s… smoke trapped in a closed room, swirling, changing. Buffeted by the passing of years and wishful thinking.” Karen starts poetically saying. “But even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. The past can… never be completely erased. It lingers. Like the scent of burning wood. And it’s my job as his advisor to make sure everything just… lingers.”

Anatoly gives her a strange look, which Karen ignored to answer a call.

“Sir?” She said, listening closely. “Yes, passenger side.”

“Was that him?” The Russian asked, hopeful.

“Yes. He’d like to have a word with you.”

Anatoly nods and mumbles something in his native tongue seconds before the door flies wide open. To his shock, an angry Matt Murdock reaches inside and yanks him out, throwing him viciously on the ground. 

“You embarrassed me.” Matt snarls, even with his shades on you knew there was bloodlust in those blind pupils. “You fucking embarassed me infront of her!” And throws a punch.

They both exchange some hits, equally spilling some blood, however, at one point, Anatoly pulls out a knife, swinging it defensively. What thought could do some damage, he ends up seeing the Kingpin’s suit was barely touched by the blade.

Surprising him again, Matt had him pinned against the vehicle, breaking his wrist the weapon was in. “Мне бы хотелось, чтобы ты просто позвонил. Я бы дал тебе пропуск. Но нет…” He hisses, cradling the sides of the Russian’s head (*I wish you had just fucking called. I would have given you a pass. But no…). “Ты только что выкопал себе чертову могилу.” (*You just had dug your own fucking grave.)

He then starts banging his head on the side of the car a few times before tossing him back at the ground. Anatoly desperately tries to crawl to the car, begging Karen to help in Russian, but Matt’s advisor made no movements that she would at all. Instead, Matt drags Anatoly by his hair, laying him between the floor and the door…

Then slams it hard.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over again.

As blood bathed the concrete with its glorious red color, Matt never stopped until his enemy’s head was completely taken off. 

Inhaling heavily, body still tense as Karen walks over carefully, offering her Boss her handkerchief.

“Tell Mr. Potter, I’ll need a new suit.” Matt said after a moment, and wiped his face clean.

Karen nods with a hum. “What about this?” She asked, gesturing to the body behind them.

“Keep it. Freeze it. Let his brother worry for a few days, and will pull the cards if we have to.”

“Which cards, if I may ask?” 

“Send it to Vladimir to show who really runs this city, or…”

.

.

.

“We blame it on Daredevil.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Alright, listen up. Last night, a father was driving home with his son until they were surrounded by unidentified men.” Your police chief said as you all were gathered around the office. You knew by how tense he was this was going to be some tough news to swallow. “Those men beat the poor dad and kidnapped the kid. Griffin Banks. Eight years old, he has curly brown hair and brown eyes; about 5 feet tall, 86 pounds, and was last seen wearing his little league uniform. Your jobs are to find him quickly and bring him home safe. Understood? – Great. Off you all go!”

And then all of you scattered like ants, hopefully to get some kind of lead, some kind of evidence of where he was but… 

“This shit’s going nowhere.” Frank complained, after a few hours of tiredly searching. You couldn’t blame him for complaining about this, because you too were feeling the same way.

If only I had heard about this last night when I was on the street. I could have been looking already. You went out as Daredevil last night to clear your head after that disastrous date and didn’t come across any crime or hear anything to spark your interest. You thought that was a good thing, you thought maybe the criminals finally understood that you weren’t leaving, but now you realize that the reason was entirely different. 

Did everyone in the underworld know about this kid? Was this an act of war or treason? You still weren’t a hundred percent sure how everything ran, but you did know that not everyone in the shadows worked or agreed with the Kingpin, so maybe this was a way to get back at him.

But why an innocent kid of all things? 

“Let’s try around the park again.” You said, heading back for the car.

“Again? Y/N we just came from there.” Frank said, as you shake your head.

“Maybe we missed something. I want to check.”

“Y/N. Hey, wait. Y/N–” He grabs you by the shoulder to stop you from entering his car. “Wait. Look, I know you want to catch this guy, I get it, but we can’t keep going back to the same place over and over again, it’s not doing us any good.”

“Yeah, but what if we’re missing something?” You asked, forming a look of desperation in your eyes that means so much more. So much more that he actually understands it.

His face softens. “Y/N, I know that look, you’ve been through this before haven’t you?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, breaking eye contact. “I just want him to be alright. I couldn’t save the last one.” You explain, voice quivering at the end.

“Hey, I get it. We all have a similar case every once and while, and it gets to us. I understand how you feel. However, if you keep running in circles, and getting inside your head, you’re not going to be able to do much. You’re going to make the same mistakes.”

“I know, but–”

“Go take a break. Go clear your head, then come back to the precinct.”

“Frank–”

“There are a hundred or so other officers looking for this kid. You can take a rest.”

“Frank–”

“Please.”

And how could you say ‘no’ when Frank reminded you of your old partner Max here? He was making the same thoughtful, worried expression that made you want to break and asked for a hug. 

You wanted to say ‘no’, to show them both that you could handle it, to show that you’ve grown but… You can’t.

You haven’t grown one bit since then.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

You take your face out of your hands, looking up from your spot in the waiting area. You decided on getting a quick bite before you head back. “Foggy?”

“Thought I get some grub myself.” He said, sitting down next to you, waiting as well. “Rough morning?”

I guess he could tell how messed up you felt. “You could say that.”

“Is it because of that missing kid?”

“Yeah.” You said, as you laid your head against the wall. “Guess word got around quickly.”

“You guys will find him.” He gives you a reassuring look. “I have faith.”

You scoffed. “You have more faith than I do.”

He looks proud of himself while replying, “Hey, It’s what I do best.” 

“What about you?” You cast him a glance. “Did you and Matt sort out that client issue?”

Foggy tilts his head, eyebrows scrunched together. “Issue? What issue?”

“The client issue.” You realize he didn’t know what you were talking about and continue trying to specify. “Matt and I went out last night but he cut it short; Told me he had to leave because of work. An issue with a client.”

“Issue with a client? I don’t recall a current issue with anybody.” Foggy says, honestly, as he scratches his head to think. “Are you sure that’s what he told you?”

“I’m dead serious.” You sit up straighter. “You seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I would know if we had an issue, I mean, we’re partners; Fifty-Fifty, you know? But if he comes into the office later I’ll ask him about it.”

You let his words sink as he excused himself to grab his food. You were… baffled. Completely fucking baffled. Did Matt really lie to you last night? And for what? He didn’t want to be there with you anymore? Did he think you were being nosy? Did he not like you in the way you thought he did? Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter…

You were going to be pissed off anyway.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Take the bag off.” Matt snarls as he enters the freezer. His bodyguard complied, showing their enemy off for him to ‘see’. “If you’re smart you’ll make this quick. Where’s the kid you took?”

The Russian grinned, his teeth stained red with lips full of blisters. “Like hell I’ll tell you. Not until you agree to meet with Vladimir like you promised!”

“Where’s the kid?” He tried again, patience thinning out already.

“Fuck. Off. 3асранец.” (*Asshole)

Matt hums. “So not smart? Not a shocker.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who backed out at the last minute. I don’t know what was so important last night that you just had to miss it.”

“Well, all of us have lives, you know.”

He laughs. “A leech like you? Have a life? I find that hard to believe.” Another chuckle. “We know you so well that Vladimir had us on standby to take a kid.” And another. “We know you have a little soft spot for them.”

But Matt stays calm, eerily calm that could make anyone’s skin crawl. “Just Vladimir? So did his brother not have any say in that?”

“What?”

“You know, Anatoly paid me a visit last night. He actually interrupted my important event. If your bosses had such a… grand plan, how come one of them came looking for me?”

He scoffed under his breath, mumbling, “Цифры. Анатолий всегда был нетерпеливым.” (*Figures. Anatoly was always the impatient one.)

This makes Matt grinned. “Ah, so you guys have no idea? Do you?”

“Know what?”

“Что я тоже нетерпелив.” Matt says while snapping his fingers (*That I am also impatient). The meat hooks were shifted around until it was a headless body that appeared, but that didn’t shake the Russian too much until someone pulled out the body’s severed head from a box of ice. 

The man paled. “O Боже…” (*Oh God…)

“Понимаете?” Matt asked, the same expression staying (*You see?). “Мне плевать, какой у тебя статус. Ты меня злишь, я убью тебя.” (*I don’t care what status you are. You make me angry, I’ll kill you)

“You really are a monster.” He says, trying to keep it together.

“Yeah, I know. And with no regrets too. Now…” Matt’s face falls. “Where’s the kid?”

“Like I’d ever tell you after what you just did! 3асранец!” He snaps before spatting in his face. (*Asshole!)

Matt stays quiet, and calmly wipes the red spite from his face. “Otomo.” He calls out to the deepest part of the freezer, a person dressed in an all black ninja outfit. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him). The assassin nods, unsheathing his blade which was enough to get the Russian to wiggle in his restraints and start begging.

“W-Wait! Wait! Wait! What about– No. No–”

“Dispose the body anyway you can.” Matt orders as he turns to leave the cold, until…

“Ты хочешь остановить Сорвиголову, верно?!” (*You want to stop Daredevil right?!)

As soon as those words were spoken, the Kingpin stopped in his tracks. It was only until he turned back around, the Russian started laughing with hysteria and joy.

“I know you do. We all do.” He pants and swallows. “Этот парень... он поможет любому. И я гарантирую, что он захочет спасти ребенка. Пусть все это ускользнет…” (*This guy... he’ll help anyone. And I guarantee he’ll want to save the child. Let this all slide…) He chuckles with a painful smile. “Я-я упущу это, и вместе мы сможем поймать Сорвиголову. Разве это не было бы красиво?” (*I-I let this slide, and together, we could trap Daredevil. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?)

The man prayed that this would work, and his spirits seemed to be lifted when the King of Darkness smiled.

“No one else saw you take him?” Matt asked one of the guards who shook his head. “Huh. You know…” He shifted the weight on his cane. “I like that idea. It is beautiful. Slightly risky, but beautiful.” Then he flickered his blind gaze back to his assassin. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him)

Then he spun on his heels again and left, the door shutting behind the screams that his sensitive ears could still hear. He maneuvered around the place, listening to his adivisor’s heels click around behind him at the pace he told her to as he finds a sink to clean his soured face.

“So you’re going forward with his suggestion?” Karen asked, hands behind her back, waiting.

“It’s a little far-fetched, but if Daredevil catches wind of the kid, we actually can kill two birds with one stone.” He said, running the very idea over and over in his head. “Any updates?”

“Your phone’s been blowing up. The personal one.”

“Calls?”

“Texts mostly.”

“Who’s it from?” He asked her, as she pulled it out of her pocket and reread it over.

“Foggy.” She replies, watching him stop drying his face.

“Is it important?”

“Might be.”

“Might be?”

“He wants to know what client issue you had last night, and says you should contact Y/N.” She frowns. “Apparently she’s pissed at you for leaving last night.” He mutters something under his breath that she didn’t hear before she decided to take a step forward. “Forgive me if I’m stepping over a line, and I know she’s a long time friend, but she’s also a cop; A cop that hasn’t been linked with your program yet, and has been begging for you to tell her yourself, which I know you won’t.”

“Your point is, Karen? Matt asked, throwing the towel aside.

“What if this works out like you hope, and you reveal to her that you’re the Kingpin, then what? You expect her to be okay with it? Expect her to accept it without a little blackmail on the line?”

A brief pause. “No.”

“Exactly. She’ll try to take your ass to court, better yet she’ll try to shoot you dead. I just don’t want a repeat of last time.”

And the haunting memory flashed before him. He didn’t think it could still hurt so much. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll figure that out later. But what about you? How’s your task going?”

“Still growing strong like you asked.” Karen said as he cups her jaw with a smile. “He trusts me a lot.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He says, while slowly tracing her red lips with his thumb. “Even if, and that’s a big if, Castle ever thinks that he’s out of my control, he’s not, not if you’re on him like a thorn in his side. Right?”

“Right.” 

He hums, and lightly ghosts her arm with his fingertips drawing a small sound from her. “Bet you’re imagining me as him. Hmm?” He pulls her head down closer, his lips right next to her ear. “Keep seducing Castle for me, okay? I don’t care if you catch any feelings either, as long as you know he’ll still be between my fingertips, then I’ll let that slide. Understood?”

She makes a sound again, eyes half lid. “Understood.”

“Good.” Then he gently bites the side of her lower lip, kitty licking the bruise before pulling away. “Tell the driver to bring the car around while I make a call.”

With a shaky breath she says, “Yes, sir.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The voicemail still buzzed in the back of your head as you came bursting through your window, barely having the mental strength to lock as you started shedding your DD suit as you walked towards your bathroom.

*Beep*

[ ‘Hey, Y/N. Look, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but please just… Can you just call me back and just listen to what I have to say? Please? I just… I know I messed up. I’m sorry. Please call me back when you get the chance.’ ]

*Beep*

You kicked off the last pair of clothing as you crawled into the shower turning the hot water on, letting it run on your hunched over back with your forehead against the tiles.

These few days have sucked. First your date leaves you high and dry, then you find out he lied, and now you can’t even find a missing kid whether your Daredevil or Detective L/N. It…

It really hurts.

This task… hits… close to home.

You hold back the tears you felt, and hold back the urge to sob as you let your fingers trace the scar on the base of your neck, remembering how it got there. 

.

It was stupid mistake. 

You should have waited for your partner instead of running off on your own. 

You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You should have waited. You should have waited. You–

You honestly thought the universe would grant you this. To grant you a chance to catch the man you’ve been hunting for weeks; To catch the man that’s been stealing those kids and doing heinous things with them. You needed to catch him, you begged to catch him but…

No.

No you can’t.

As soon as you spotted him you ran like hell after him, ignoring as your partner Max yelled your name. You had blinders on, you’ll admit, but you don’t want that man to take another kid, to steal yet another kid’s future. No.

Not on your fucking watch. However–

He catches you by surprise, and suddenly your whole world is on its side as you free fall, hitting something sharp and painful on the way down. Now you’re laying on the ground, your spine feeling funny as you feel the pool of blood grow around your head, your ears ringing like they’re dying out.

Damn it. You thought. You really thought you had this one in the bag as you started to fade to black just as your partner’s voice broke out into a scream. A scream that you know was–

.

“Fuck!” You yelled, and swiped off all the bottles off the shelf and let it rattled to the tub floor (you know you probably just woke up your downstairs neighbour but you couldn’t care less). You sigh heavily, holding the sides of your head.

.

.

.

Tonight was going to be a long night for you.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Frank’s fingers glided over his phone for the millionth time this morning. You haven’t arrived at all this morning which was so not like you (Especially since you were so desperate to solve this case). He waited a few minutes before texting again:

[ Forget what precinct you work at or something? Where are you? ]

He just wants something from you, even if you respond with an emoji that he’ll have to decipher.

Come on, Y/N. At least tell me you’re staying home. One of his fears right now was you doing something drastic. After his conversation with you yesterday he decided to look up what was scaring you, and that was the case you took just a few years out of the academy, the same year you became a detective. A criminal that had been taunting you and your partner for months, and when you finally had him, the night ended with you getting a near death injury… and another kid getting killed.

Poor girl. I just wish you didn’t have to get demoted here. You’re too good for this place. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone finally dinged with a message from you.

[ Detective Stubborn: Ate something bad last night. Stomach’s killing me. ]

He sighs with relief, whether that was true or not, he’s just glad to know you’re away from here.

[ Feel better. ]

He just really, really hopes you stay home and clear your mind.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

But of course… why would you?

After planning all day and looking over very little evidence you had you decided to go out as soon as the sun started to set. You had to rough up a couple of street thugs to get some more solid evidence, but eventually it was enough for you to figure out where they took the boy.

The warehouse district.

You floated through one of the skyline landing without a sound, and the rest  of your mission honestly became a bit of a blur. Why? Well… as you rushed around through each warehouse undetected until you actually found the kid, your enemies, when they finally noticed you, didn’t seem very fond of you poking your nose in their business. Now you’re running like hell, a kid in your arms as you tried shielding him from every bullet that came your way. You tried levitating a few times when you found yourself up high and trying to cross a beam or a walkway, but you’ve never actually flown with someone in your arms so you’re out of practice.

Come on, Y/N. Remember bootcamp, Remember your first rescue mission, you know how to carry someone to safety. Which was true, but all those other times weren’t with you being pelted with bullets from an angry mob.

You felt the kid grip your outfit tighter making you say, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” You just kept repeating that comfortingly as you made three small crates float and fly to knock the men out of your path. You kicked one of the guys in the head when he tried to get up, sprinting again. If you can just get to the edge of the building, you’ll be home free.

Trekking across a catwalk, you used your abilities to conjure up a quick shield to block before surging the power outwards, knocking the gunmen off his feet and over the railing, plummeting into the overly packed room of wooden crates from overseas (you’re not sure if you really wanted to know what the Russian mafia was importing). You fought a few more guys that dared to intervene, dared you to stop and surrender and be killed.

You could see the finish line, you could feel the boy relaxing your arms as he sees it too; You were finally going to complete the mission that’s been haunting you for so–

You heard something rattle and roll behind you.

You just had enough time to look at what it was before putting a shield up, the tiny thing exploding your whole world.

.

.

.

.

When you came back around, an excruciating pain ran through your body, a pain that was so unbearable that you didn’t want to move. The explosive you managed to shield took out the catwalk you were on and everything close by. You fell all the way down with debris dusting your face, still holding onto the kid before blacking out. Now… you laid on the floor, your head shaking as you urged yourself to look down, finding what was causing the pain.

 A metal bar was sticking out from your abdomen.

You somehow didn’t scream, maybe because you felt like you were going into shock, or maybe you were shouting and haven’t noticed yet.

Oh, god, I’ve– wait… the boy… Trying not to black out when you turn your head to look, and about a foot away was the boy who had bounced off your body during the fall. Your heart would have caught in your throat if he didn’t see his chest moving, but it was.

He’s alive. You sighed with relief, but here comes the tricky part. How are you going to move and save him with this pole in your stomach? You groaned loudly as you tried to move, arm reaching out in the attempt to at least shake him awake, trying to tell him to run if you’re truly stuck.

“Uh, Gr-Griffin… g-get up. W-Wake… up. Please…” You croaked, yet it doesn’t seem like the sleeping boy can hear you… but someone else could.

But as you shifted again, pain shooting out as the metal shifted with you, that’s when you noticed someone coming over in the corner of your eye. One of the Russians had come over, checking if you were still alive which was plain as day now. You watch his eyes go between you and the child for a few seconds before grinning like a maniac. 

Your eyes widened when you saw the gun in his hands. “No.” You whimpered with your fingertips glowing red, right as he shot a bullet into the kid’s head. “No!!!” You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed. Would this have happened if it didn’t–

Then he pointed the weapon at you, out instinct or adrenaline your abilities shifted the gun towards him, firing his own bullet into his own skull.

His body dropped like it was made of bricks, the gun sliding inches away from him, causing you to nearly throw up in your mouth. I mean, you were a cop after all, so of course you’ve had to shoot a person or two but this was…

Messing with your fucking head.

You could hear shouting in the distance, which was enough for you to kick it high gear again and try to move. First things first was trying to get this damn bar out of your stomach. 

How the fuck– wait– let’s see– You concertrated the best you could as you redirected all the energy you had into yanking it out (doing it quickly probably was the best idea but you didn’t have much time). The bar rattled next to you, a pool of red oozing out as you rolled to your side feeling the blood rise to your throat. You quickly moved to all four, pulling your mask down to cough up the rest of the red. Sweating and heaving, you felt like you had no energy left to move, but you needed to. You could hear them coming.

As you got up to your feet, your knees nearly buckled but yourself forward where you noticed some stairs going up. Ripping and pushing your hood against your wound as you started to climb, hoping you weren’t leaving too much of a blood trail. 

Just as you got to the top you heard the voice grow near, and you managed to slide yourself into a place that no one could see from below. You just needed to stay hidden long enough for them to leave to make your escape (whenever that was). However, you never thought after searching for a few months that you would actually get to see the man they call ‘Kingpin’.

You peaked out watching two very different groups of people arrive. The Russians looked slightly surprised when the Underworld’s Ruler showed up, dressed in the red suit that you’ve heard about on the street. He walked like he owned the place, his black cane with gold trim was like the piece that tied his whole look together. He stopped with his back towards you, with many of his men standing around as, what you tell was, the Russian mob’s leader came face-to-face with Kingpin.

“3асранец. Now you show your face.” The leader, Vladimir snaps (*Asshole). 

“Well, seeing how this is my turf now, I have to show my face.” Kingpin said, making you perk up with confusion.

Why does his voice sound–? But your thought trails off as you watch Vladimir scoffing in disbelief.

“Your turf? You think we just… ‘mess up’ and you take over?”

“Well, I certainly don’t need to see that–” Matt points to the mess the explosion made. “You pretty much destroyed most of your cargo.”

Vladimir frowns, shifting his weight. “I’ll admit, I wish my men didn’t blow up half the warehouse. But I will give him a pass because he was trying to stop our rat.”

He raises an eyebrow. “A rat?”

“Yeah, a rat.” Vladimir smiles a little. “I had a feeling Daredevil would come for the kid. Why wouldn’t you if it makes you feel good?”

Matt clenches the top of his cane, keeping his composure from the neck up. “Daredevil was here?”

“Still here, I think.” The Russian points to the bloody puddle on the floor. “There’s a pipe laying next to a large amount of blood. In my experience, getting impaled you don’t get very far.”

His frown deepens, grip tightening. “And the kid? I smell two bodies with no heartbeats.” Then his whole aura changed into something darker, suffocating. “Tell me, are those your men?”

Vladimir paled, and tried to keep the discomfort off his face. He didn’t want to answer, even he knew staying silent wouldn’t be a good idea. “One of them.”

“One of them?” 

“Why do you care? It could have been Daredevil! She could have pulled the trigger!”

Matt didn’t say anything as he cast his blind gaze at the corpses before saying, “No. His scent is the only one on the gun and its bullets. So the kid’s death is in your hands.” But then he pauses, realizing something. “Wait. She?”

“Yes. My men said they saw Daredevil upclose, says the stature’s too small and not burly enough to be a man.” Vladimir replies, making Matt hum in response. “I guess something good did come out of this after all. We finally have more evidence of what we’re up against.”

And those words were his signature for his own death. 

The room got really cold, and energy felt suffocating. Everyone present began praying that they’ll be spared.

Matt grits his teeth, shaded eyes growing hungrier. “First you embarrassed me, now you insult me? I’m not even sure what to say anymore.” He says, snapping his fingers as his bodyguards shoved Vladimir to his knees, the end of a barrel being pressed in his face. The other Russians tried to make an advance, but they were outnumbered, making them slowly raise their hands over their heads.

“Давай, мужик.” Vladimir said, as Matt made a tsking news (*Come on, Man).

“Don’t ‘come on, man’ me. You brought this upon yourself. I mean–” Matt chuckled dryly, lowly, scary. “All you and your brother had to do was just wait the next day for our meeting. But no, you had to go out and throw a tantrum, you had to go out and kidnap a kid that has no meaning to any of us.”

Vladimir scoffs. “No meaning? It always has some meaning to you. Don’t act like you haven’t kidnapped someone’s kid before.”

“And I’m not. I know what I’ve done. But unlike you, when I kidnap someone there’s meaning to it, a purpose. Like when I… ‘picked up’ our DA’s lovely daughter after soccer practice, and said we were good friends. And like any child, she believed it.” Matt smiled just a little before it faded in an instant. “However… she never ended up like that.” He gestures to the body on the floor. “You get what I mean?”

The Russian growls. “3асранец.” (*Asshole)

“You can keep calling me an asshole all you want, but you know I’m right.” Matt sighs. “I just wish your brother was like you.”

Vladimir’s breath caught in his throat. “What did you do?”

“Nothing that your brother didn’t deserve. He did interrupt a very important date I really care about. I’m honestly surprised he found the restaurant I was in.”

Brother? Interrupted? Restaurant? You thought, wondering why this sounds so familiar. 

“What. Did. You. Do?!” Vladimir shouted, baring his teeth as the King of Darkness lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Like I said, nothing he didn’t deserve.” Matt snaps his fingers again, this time summoning someone over who was holding up a duffle bag. He reaches inside and pulls the brother’s head out by his hair (You had to hold back from gasping loudly at the sight).

Vladimir nearly broke down on the spot. “Anatoly…”

“I really wished he had just called, I wouldn’t have resorted to such manners.” Another sigh. “I even had to lie to my date that I had to go bail him out.”

And that’s when your whole world collapsed.

No. You thought, shaking your head as everything started to click in place.

No. No. This has to be fake. I have to be sleeping. This can’t– But you can’t deny what was plain as day. You didn’t have to see his face to know it was him. I mean, he had a cane you thought was just for fashion, he had shades on that you thought was just part of his look, but you can’t deny that his voice is the same, you can’t deny that the missing pieces had formed a whole. 

But then his name rolled off your lips as you stared with disbelief.

“Matt…” You whispered, and as soon as you did, his head snapped your way. 

Tensing up and pushing yourself further into the shadows, you slapped your hand over your mouth as your heart pounded in your ears.

There’s no way he heard me… right? However, that couldn’t be a coincidence. There’s no way you just mutter his name and then look your way. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be true. But does that mean–

Can Matt… hear anything? Does he have abilities like me? You didn’t know what to think as he went back to his conversation with the Russian mob leader.

His perplexed expression changed back to the grin as he continued to taunt the man before him. “Now do you understand why people don’t cross me?”

“You’re a monster.” Vladimir replies, voice filled with venom. “You’re a fucking monster.” 

“I know.”

“You won’t get away with this. When people hear about what you’ve done, there’s no way the others are going to let this go.” The Russian clenched his fists. “My people, even if I’m gone, they’re not going to put up with this. Same with the Doctors, S.I.L.K., the Chinese, the Japanese–”

“The Japanese?” Matt said with a laugh. “Oh, they work for me.” And he almost laughed again when he saw his prey’s face pale again in shock. “Yeah. You see, they raised me. The Hand taught me everything I know, and helped me rise to this position.”

What does he mean he was raised by the Japanese? You managed to think after slowly coming over your shock. You knew his mother died in the accident that blinded him, and he mentioned his dad pasted as well, and–

Wait…

Matt never told me when his father died. Does that mean he was young enough to be taken in by someone? Someone like… You couldn’t even finish the sentence. You’ve heard bits and pieces about The Hand on the street. You knew they were hardcore, highly skilled and basically an assassination group; People you didn’t want to mess with.

So does that make Matt… an assassin? 

“You really have power in everything.” Vladimir said, head hanging low.

“Pretty much.” Matt said, proudly.

“Then I guess… I’ve got nothing else to do than follow you.” 

“Follow me?” The blind man scoffed. “Oh, Vladimir, you lost your chance at that. You’ve already proven to me that you have no loyalty, that you only think about yourself.”

“Mr. Murdock–”

Matt cut him off by holding his hand up, and staying quiet for just a moment. “I really wanted to like you Vladimir, that hard head of yours I could have used for so many things but…” He sighs and stays silent again. 

.

.

.

And then you watch him plunge his sword into the side of Vladimir’s head.

Your pupils shrunk and you felt all the air get sucked out of you. You–

Matt slowly pulls his weapon out, letting his bodyguards drop the body to the floor. He just stares again, almost like he was basking in what he just did.

Oh, my god… he just… Then you watched him sheath the blade back into his cane and says,

“Kill the rest.” 

And that’s when you knew you had to move. Using all the strength you had left to bolt away as Matt’s men started firing at whoever was left of the Russian mob.

You’re not sure how you’re even going to get home, but fuck…

.

.

.

There’s no way in hell you’re going to stick around here.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You practically crawled to the bathroom when you got back to the apartment, black spots started dancing as you ripped open the first aid kit. You shake off your top, turning the shower on for a few seconds to remove the excess blood.

.

“Matty… would you still be friends with me if I was a freak?” You asked him as the two of you sat on the fire escape of his apartment. The question has been gnawing at you for quite some time, and you weren’t sure how to express it so.

“A freak?” Matt said, confused. “Why would you ask me that?”

.

The pole didn’t go all the way through, which was good, but damn… that was going to leave a nasty scar when it did heal. You had to bite on a rolled up magazine as you started sewing up the wound, the pain keeping you awake.

.

“Well…” You nervously shifted your weight, looking in his direction. “What if I told you… that my parents are special?”

“Special? In what way?

.

You placed the gauze over the wound, then bandaging it up. You then cursed as you pushed yourself to a stand, running your blood soaked hands under the water, watching it swirl down the drain.

.

“Like… what if they had abilities? Like superheroes?” 

“Like superheroes?” Matt perked up a little. “Do they?”

“It’s just a question.” You shrug and look away. “Would you be okay if I was a freak too?” 

.

Your eyes shifted from the bathroom to your kitchen, remembering something. You flicked off the faucet, wobbly walking towards the very thing that’s been peaking your curiosity for the longest time.

The vase of roses.

With a shaky hand you grabbed the note, opening up to reread the one sentence on the paper.

.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Matt said, with a smile. “I’d think it’d be cool.” 

You blink in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. You would be like an actual superhero. Like the ones you see in the comic books. I’ll admit though, I’d be kind of jealous if you did.”

“How come?”

.

Now you were back in your room, rummaging around for the outfit you wore to work the other day. You know you still have it, you have to. You needed the chance to compare the two.

.

“Because–” Now it was his turn to shift in his seat. “My best friend has powers and I don’t. Everyone would be in awe with you but with me? Nothing.”

You frown at his words. “Don’t say that. I think it would be nice to have someone different than me.” Then smiles. “Keeps me from not going completely crazy.”

He chuckles. “Well it would be my job to keep you from going nuts. I wouldn’t want you to be the villain of the story.”

You smirk a little at that, scooting closer. “Is that a promise?”

.

Your (Y/E/C) eyes widened with disbelief for the millionth time tonight. In one hand you had the note from the vase, the other? It was the ad from Nelson and Murdock, the ones they were going to pass out, spread the word. 

The one that had their penmanship on the very bottom.

A perfect–

Perfect–

Match.

.

You held out your pinky. “Promise me. Promise me that as long as we’re together, we won’t become villains in this world. Will always be each other’s light.”

He stays quiet for a second, like he’s thinking. Then he raises an eyebrow, saying, “Superpowered or not?”

“Superpowered or not.”

“Okay. Deal.” He interlocks his pinky with yours. “I promise I won’t do anything crazy while you’re here.”

“Thank you, Matty. I’ll hold you to it.”

.

You snagged everything that was off the counter, marching over to the window, ripping it open. Without even looking you just tossed it out, letting it drop and shattered on the dumpster lid below.

You just couldn’t believe it as you sank to your knees.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just…

.

.

.

.

Couldn’t believe your whole life was in a lie.

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene

@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago @lazyxsquirrel @yeonalie @scoliobean @kayden666

@nkmblackhyuuga @nk1023 @queenofnigthdarkness

[starrylightseeker]

I'm bored so...

SONGS THAT REMIND ME OF LADS

I have a playlist for Xavier, Zayne, and Sylus but those follow their individual plots (x)

Those Eyes (feat. Zeph) by New West. I could die in your arms when you kiss me / And brush my hair back / Not a star could melt me like you do / I hope you understand

𔘓 Xavier

Rewrite the Stars from The Greatest Showman. You know I want you / It's not a secret I try to hide / But I can't have you / We're bound to break and my hands are tied

𔘓 Zayne

Crush by David Archuleta. Do you ever think, when you're all alone / All that we could be, where this thing could go? / Am I crazy or falling in love? / Is it real or just another crush? / Do you catch your breath when I look at you? / Are you holding back, like the way I do?

𔘓 Jeremiah (justice for my bestie ㅠ.ㅠ killing off his girl was foul....)

Loved You Before by Peach PRC. I wanna stay in love in this life and the next one / I think we've already met, somewhere, another planet / I wanna stay in love in this life and the next one

𔘓 MC because this is such a playful and cute song, and Mc is always making up stories (me too girl). To quote Zayne: "You have a knack for turning the most trivial of things into movie-worthy stories."

Hands by ORKID. But just let me pretend our vows still mean something that moment I'm holding your hands 'cause your hands getting colder

Say nothing mean more than ever with your silence / You think that I don't even bother / It's just that I care too much about you, to dare to break this silence

𔘓 Rafayel, Zayne

Queen of the Night by Hey Violet. I've bandaged your bruises, you've held back my hair / Who'd've known when this started that we'd end up here, here? / But you reach out and touch me, say my name like a prayer / All my friends say you're dangerous, but I don't fucking care

𔘓 Sylus

Two Hearts by Maryjo Lilac. This heart that beats in me is the heart that beats for you / You take me in / My mind feel so at peace / You turn my soul to sleet

𔘓 Rafayel (get it? Cause he gave her his heart?), Sylus

Just A Kiss by Lady A. No, I don't want to say goodnight / I know it's time to leave / But you'll be in my dreams tonight

𔘓 Xavier

Heartbeats by hanniou. Ever since you said out my name / I haven't heard it sound the same / Ever since you stepped into the light / I'd let you ruin the rest of my life

𔘓 Xavier

Slow Dancing by Aly & AJ. I don't need anything fancy / I just need me and you slow dancing / Hell's bending keeping me captive / Heaven's here it's right where you're standing

𔘓 Xavier, Zayne

[aquadestinyswriting]

Writing Exercise 3

Ok, so I was looking through this post again to see if I wanted to do any of the other writing exercises on it and I came across the "Shuffle a playlist on your music player of choice. For whichever song plays, describe what you “see” with your imagination." exercise. Needless to say, since I have at least 4 different playlists just for my many WIP series, I needed to give this one a shot.

I'm just gonna go with shuffling my 'Emotional Songs' playlist since that's the most extensive one I have and I use it to plot with. Placing the song and my thoughts about it under a cut to save everyone's dashes.

Tagging: @davycoquette (as requested), @druidx, @lexiklecksi and @sparrow-orion-writes because you guys might get a kick out of this.

And shuffle chose the following song:

Oh man. Ok, so let's get into this.

I feel like I'm losing hope In my body and my soul And the sky, it looks so ominous And as time comes to a halt Silence starts to overflow My cries are inconspicuous

OK, so for this part of the first verse, I typically see Elowyn staring up at the ceiling of the cavern she, Meredith and Enezeage are shivering in after almost drowning trying to swim through some flooded mineshafts to get to some Bad Guys(tm). I think it's pretty accurate to say that at least the girls are feeling a bit hopeless since the other two members of their party have just drowned and Merri and Elowyn had just about followed suit not that long before.

Tell me, God, are you punishing me? Is this the price I'm paying for my past mistakes? This is my redemption song I need you more than ever right now Can you hear me now?

The scene in my head for this part skips ahead a little bit to when Elowyn dies for the first (or was it second?) time thanks to being ripped to shreds by a Dire Dire weasel (the thing stood about 4 feet at the shoulder, which is a bit taller than Elowyn). Elowyn's sitting in the waiting room when she suddenly gets pulled through a portal by a clawed, reptilian hand and is then told that she's now Kurtulmak's Vassal before she wakes up back in the real world pretty much naked and covered in ick. Bear in mind this takes place waaay before Elowyn finally gets ordained as a paladin, so she's a rogue at this point in the story of the campaign.

'Cause we're gonna shout it loud Even if our words seem meaningless It's like I'm carrying the weight of the world I wish that someway, somehow That I could save every one of us But the truth is that I'm only one girl Maybe if I keep believing, my dreams will come to life Come to life

There are a couple of scenes that flash into my head for this first chorus honestly. All of them involving Elowyn standing up for herself, her beliefs or others that are less fortunate than herself. The first one is when she's standing up to King Storri and Captain Bloodvein about the kobolds that the party ended up taking on as companions after that whole resurrection by Kurtulmak thing. The next one that comes to mind is quite a lot later when she's up on a box trying to calm a riotous mob that's trying to get into the Temple of Moradin in Toreguarde.

After all the laughter fades Signs of life all washed away I can still, still feel a gentle breeze No matter how hard I pray Signs of warning still remain And life has become my enemy

Now, I tend to switch POV over to Meredith for the second verse, only because this song is a definitive fit for both girls, for slightly different reasons. For this first part of the second verse, the scene that comes to mind is always one where Meredith is sitting in her room in Acacia Avenue after the celebrations for Darkhide's defeat are over and the party have been chucked out to go home and sleep. The scene is not a happy one, since she's trying to pray to Moradin and not getting an answer and is slowly realising that her people are still in grave danger, despite the defeat of one of the most powerful necromancers Allansia has seen in about a decade.

Tell me, God, are you punishing me? Is this the price I'm paying for my past mistakes? This is my redemption song I need you more than ever right now Can you hear me now?

For this second half-verse, I tend to visualise Meredith sitting in her cell waiting for her trial and likely execution date after she's discovered and arrested in Fangthane upon her return there. To be fair, she doesn't believe her gods are punishing her so much as kicking herself for getting caught because she has no evidence with which to exonerate herself, so she's spending herself praying for some sort of miracle.

'Cause we're gonna shout it loud Even if our words seem meaningless It's like I'm carrying the weight of the world I wish that someway, somehow That I could save every one of us But the truth is that I'm only one girl Maybe if I keep believing, my dreams will come to life Come to life

Like with Elowyn above, I tend to see various scenes for this chorus. Most of them involve Meredith standing up to the various enemies that her party met during their adventure. I also sometimes visualise a few scenes where Meredith is trying to keep her party or her people safe from some sort of danger, even if it's not immediately visible.

'Cause we're gonna shout it loud Even if our words seem meaningless Like I'm carrying the weight of the world I wish that someway, somehow That I could save every one of us But the truth is that I'm only one girl

For this chorus I visualise short flashes of both Elowyn and Meredith trying to talk some sense into their people as matters in both Toreguarde and Fangthane start to fall apart. Mostly it scenes of Elowyn trying to stem the corruption in the Council and the Brotherhood of Cleaving's reign of terror in Toreguarde and Meredith trying to talk some sense into the leadership of her Church as a full-on Schism starts erupting.

Still, we're gonna shout it loud Even if our words seem meaningless It's like I'm carrying the weight of the world I hope that someway, somehow That I could save every one of us But the truth is that I'm only one girl Maybe if I keep believing, my dreams will come to life Come to life

For this last chorus, I tend to visualise the lead-up to the final battle of the campaign. The first scene I visualise tends to be Elowyn getting ganked on top of a sea stack and Merri having to ress her mid-battle. However, the main scene I tend to see is Elowyn trying to talk Ionah (the Big Bad) down in attempt to, potentially, save what's left of the woman's soul. There was a whole heartfelt speech about understanding why Ionah followed the path she did and the fact that there was second chance still available. The body language I can see for both women in my head at this point is just heart-breaking, because Elowyn tried so hard, only for Ionah to turn around and basically murder her son (and Meredith's husband), who is off-screen and on another plane of existence at this point.

[huckleberrykai]

choi yeonjun ~ i did something bad

pairing: mafia!choi yeonjun x fem!mafia!reader summary: if you're on opposite sides, then why does it feel so good to be with him? genre: mafia au warnings: general mafia things, guns, fighting, mentions/implications of sex, pretty short notes: idk if i like this but it's been in my drafts for like a week so . here u go 🤩 word count: 0.6k click here for my masterlist!

"we really shouldn't be doing this.." you mumbled against his lips.

despite knowing it was dangerous, you really couldn't find it within yourself to care.

you and yeonjun were on different sides, and you should probably be trying to kill each other instead of making out in an alleyway. the two of you originally met outside of work in a dive bar, and being in the professions you were, both made up a fake name and cover story of where you really worked - him a lawyer and you a waitress. long story short, he took you home and you left the next morning - assuming you'd never see him again.

until you showed up on one of his guy's doorsteps for the $30,000 they owed you. he had to admit he was both shocked and impressed when someone as pretty as you took out five of his guys in 3 minutes flat, getting your money and getting the hell out of there. until he chased you down, pushing you into an alleyway and holding his gun to your throat.

"hey there pretty girl... waitress huh?"

"well.. i did say part-time," you sneered. "how's the law treating you?"

he stayed quiet at that, trailing the end of his gun over your chest, landing between the valley of your breasts. the smirk on his face never left as his face came closer to yours. "we don't have to fight."

well this was a first. "you.. you do know you're the one holding a gun to me right now right?" he chuckled darkly and retreated the gun, shoving it back into his pocket. he didn't move from where he stood though, opting to only press his body further into yours.

"my boss is gonna kill me, but the money's yours anyway. keep it."

you sighed in relief but faltered a little as he placed a soft kiss just below your jaw. "what's your real name cutie?" his hand moved from your shoulder and he brought both of them to the sides of your waist.

"i think you and i both know i shouldn't tell you that."

he breathed out a laugh. "we could be the start of an alliance you know.." he pressed another kiss to your neck. "nuh-uh. you really think i'll trust you that easily?" he moved to meet your eyes again and shrugged.

"we're both stuck in this shit, it's nice to have a friend, no?"

you scoffed. "i just knocked out like four of your friends and you wanna be my friend? are you insane?" the smirk didn't leave his face for a second. "it was five. and they aren't my friends." he corrected.

"you're fiery. i like it."

he seemed incapable of staying on one topic, and you gave him a questioning look. sure he was gorgeous and good in bed, but he was supposed to be your enemy. why was he sucking up to you? was he trying to infiltrate your side?

"the name's yeonjun." he smiled. he looked like a fox when he smiled like that, sly and cunning. you knew from the look in his eye he wasn't gonna budge, "Y/N." "pretty name." he moved in closer, pressing his lips to your bottom one. having someone so important on your enemy's side hanging on your every word could be useful, and you got some of your own satisfaction out of it after all. and that's how you ended up making out with him in an alleyway.

"we really shouldn't be doing this..." you mumbled against his lips, hands pressing into his broad chest. "we could be killed for even talking to each other. my boss-"

he shushed you quickly. "no work talk okay? i don't want any information from you, and i won't give you any." you nodded in agreement, panting into each others mouths, foreheads pressed together. "this stays between us sweetheart."

you shot him a sultry smile, "well yeonjun, we gonna stay here all day or are you gonna take me home?"

that definitely wasn't the last time you'd see choi yeonjun.

if being with each other was so bad, then why'd it feel so good? ~

[vorish-wonderland]

It's me the anon who doesn't play twisted wonderland! I have a request, could you please write something very cruel with Jade? Maybe some sort of scenario where he toys with a tiny reader and is overall extremely mean. Kinda like your story "Serves you Right" where the Floyd broke the readers arm, like cruelty similar to that! And also plz have an ambitious ending!

Despite me not knowing much abt twisted wonderland I am obsessed with the way you write for that guy 😭

Includes: soft/safe-ish vore, biting, blood, ambiguous ending

★✦A Midnight Snack✦★

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

You live a very quiet, usually peaceful, life in a building far too large for you. You find it quite nice, despite knowing your life could be in danger if you mess up at all and get seen by the... other people who reside here.

They're much bigger than you. They're basically giants, at least compared to you. Those people... don't take too kindly to people of your size. They seem to think of people as small as you as pests...

But that's fine. You deal with it just fine. Or at least, as well as you can. You often find the remains of people like you scattered about the place you call your home. It's hard to see that... but you deal with it as well as you can...

You only go out when you're sure those giants are all asleep...

But tonight...

Tonight was... different.

When you went out to get food, you saw... him.

"Oh my, what a surprise..." He kneels down in front of the counter to speak with you. "How small you are... I thought we had gotten rid of all of you... but you seem to have proven me wrong. Hello there, little one. Who might you be?"

"...(Y/N)." You decide to cautiously respond.

"Interesting, my name is Jade." He suddenly grabs you. "(Y/N) really is a lovely name... it really suits someone like you." He suddenly smiles, showing off his serrated teeth. "It's a shame no one will remember you."

Well... this was bound to happen sometime. You couldn't have kept hidden forever...

You're trying your hardest to stay calm... quite unfortunately, it doesn't work out too well.

"A-alright, hey, l-listen, y-you're not actually going to kill me, r-right-?" You nervously ask.

"Kill you?" Jade laughs boisterously. "Ahh, you're mistaken, little one. I'm not going to kill you, no, I'm going to eat you! And sure, that very well may lead to your death, but I assure you, it is not my intention!" He smiles politely.

"I-I'd really rather you not do that, r-regardless of what your intentions are..."

"Oh, if only I cared."

Jade gently lowers you down into his mouth, biting down on one of your legs. He applies pressure, slowly, slowly, slowly, as you struggle to escape his grasp.

It starts off feeling like a small prick as the tips of his sharp teeth poke into your calf... then, as the pressure increases, you begin to panic more and more.

Blood trickles out from the spots he bites down on... it runs down his teeth and drips slowly down onto his tongue. He smiles wildly and the pupils of his eyes dilate as he tastes your blood.

Then... he bites down on your leg as hard as he can, severing it from your body.

You scream out in unbearable pain as he sets you back down on the countertop. He quickly pulls out his magic pen and casts some kind of healing spell on you, almost instantly healing your leg to the point where the severed point is no longer an open, bleeding wound.

"Oh, do be quiet, little one. As much as I love hearing your screams and cries..." He closes his eyes, and swallows the part of your leg he just bit off. "Mmm... fufufu... we wouldn't want to alert anyone else to this fun we're having, would we~?"

Panicked thoughts race through your head, not a single one of them being coherent. There's only one real thought. Run. But you can't. You can't move even the slightest bit, all you can do is stare upwards at him in fear of this... predator.

"I have an idea, (Y/N)... I do so enjoy it when my prey decides to run from me... it's always so fun, seeing them think they have a chance of escaping me..." He smiles, and reaches for you. "Of course, I doubt you'll be able to get very far in your current state... but it would be so fun to see you try and escape. You know what? I'll give you a head start. You can have 10 seconds before I start chasing you! Go on, little (Y/N)~"

He begins to count down.

You can't move.

You can't bring yourself to move.

You're paralyzed in fear, even though every cell of your tiny body is SCREAMING at you to get out of there as fast as you can...

But you just can't move.

"...3... 2... 1..." Jade pauses for a moment, staring down at you. "Hm. What a shame. You didn't move at all. Oh well, that just makes it easier for me, I suppose."

Jade picks you up once more as you try to say something, anything... all you can let out is a pathetic whimper, however. How unfortunate.

He places you into his mouth, almost sucking on you like a hard candy before he swallows you down whole...

You're terrified. It's warm and dark and wet and you keep getting squished and squeezed as you're slowly pushed downwards...

His voice is muffled by the layers of flesh between the two of you... but you still hear him.

"What a wonderful midnight snack you were, (Y/N). And you were so cooperative, too~"

The air stings your eyes... it's hard to breathe...

"You know, you were quite fun to play with... maybe I'll let you out... maybe I'll let you live, just so I may play with you again sometime..."

You try to regain your balance, but you can't hold on to any surface without it stinging your hands and having your hands slip right off the walls you tried to hold...

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You don't really know how much longer you can keep your eyes open... it gets harder and harder to breathe...

"I'll think about it. But of course, don't count on it. For now, get comfortable, because I don't know when or if I'll be letting you out. Have fun, little (Y/N)~"

...

You slowly close your eyes, hoping he decides to spare you.

[marauder-of-the-valley]

Snape asks: 14 & 19, please! :)

Thank you so much for the ask! It became much longer than I initially intended. I hope you don't mind! ;)

14. Favorite Snape line/moment? (books or movies!)

There are many moments I love (many I can't recall at the moment), such as the sarcastic bow he gave to Umbridge. But I absolutely love the response he gives right before when he says, "No idea." Absolutely savage. I love in particular that it's a public display right in front of all our main characters of how he performs his role as a double-agent, whether if they realize it or not.

Also his response to Dumbledore when he's asked to be the one to kill him, "Would you like me to do it now...or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?" His sarcasm towards other adults feels extra "done with this shit" to me.

And I have a special place in my heart for his response to Lily, "It's real for us."

19. What’s the song that always has you thinking of Snape?

Oh HO do I have something for this.

This response became much longer than I meant it to. There wasn't a single song for me but a couple. These songs are what I was listening to at the time that I really became invested in Snape's character, so they're a bit old. Back then and even now, I was most interested in his love for and (platonic) friendship with Lily and the effects they had on each other's lives when their friendship ended. I really focused on it being a tragedy for the both of them.

The Prince's Tale by the Butterbeer Experience It's a beautiful song that summarizes the Prince's Tale chapter from Snape's perspective. It's an absolutely beautiful performance.

Songs by Broken Iris: - Beautiful Girl (Snape's POV) - A New Hope (Snape's POV)

Songs by Red: - Let it Burn (Lily during the war asking if Snape found it all worth it and if he's really going to turn away from the misery his cause has inflicted on people) - Start Again (Snape's POV) - Yours Again (Snape's POV)

Fire Fire by Flyleaf. Listening to it, it sounds like Lily's perspective as a third-party spectator watching Snape's life play out. She's watching his life, picking out moments and fitting them together as she's realizing that Snape's turning for the worse. This song eerily fits his life. I was going to summarize, but I ended up going through the whole song:

"Almost thought we'd made it home But we don't know this place at all That's enough now, dry your tears It's been a long 11 years"

I took this as young Snape believing that Hogwarts would be a safe-haven where he finally managed to escaped to, but he instead just ran into more and greater torment.

"Fire, fire, fire Fire from the tongues of liars"

This is the chorus, and it matches the lies he was fed since he was young about blood purity and the beginnings of the ideology and insecurities that would shape his actions further on in his life.

"You're ashamed of where you're from Crying 'cause your father's drunk We can't die because we're young At least that's what we heard in a song"

How he felt towards his childhood and his father. Also the hope that stories of Hogwarts gave him as he shares them with Lily.

"You're ashamed of what you've done Crying 'cause your father's wrong Trying to be something new You'll feel that you have something to prove"

There are two moments this makes me think of. One is right after the moodblood incident as he fully turns to the Death Eaters, and the other which I believe fits the best, which is right after he's placed Lily in danger. He gained the information and passed it on to Voldemort in order to prove himself. Voldemort is the father in this instance, while Snape is completely turning against him after Lily's life had become at risk.

"What you confuse for glory's fire Is fire from the tongues of liars What you confuse for glory's fire Is fire from the tongues of liars"

This is reiterating the chorus, and it's when Snape is realizing the glory he sought after with Voldemort was meaningless to him and made up of perverse lies that were told to recruit him.

"You're afraid of who you are Crying 'cause your father's gone Clinging to your youthful truth You'll find that you've nothing to lose You'll find that you've nothing to prove"

This is after Dumbledore's death, with Dumbledore taking the role of the father here. At this point, he's thinking back to his childhood with Lily and his childhood in Slytherin House. The memory of Lily keeps him going, while he's become fully disconnected from his past motivations he had developed while in Slytherin.

[hellbreakfast]

Good Client Guide

I've been asked how to be a good commissioner, and while every artist is different, there are a few guidelines that are at least solid rules of thumb. In no specific order, and with no real presentation to speak of, here's a list.

Know what you want, or at least have a vague idea in mind

Communicate clearly: do not be coy or make an artist drag it out of you. Include details, especially if they are important to you. This isn't like buying a TV, this is getting another human being to make you something that is only for you. This is about what you want. If you need to give feedback regarding work done, do so clearly and cogently as possible. You don't have to be a poet, just a person with an idea, so don't be intimidated.

Have references: Either have a reference sheet made up (even if you draw your first one, yourself!) or gather up some images of things you like. If you're working without a sheet, first make sure the artist is ok with that, then give them the info. I have had people come to me with little photocollages listing ”Hair similar to this, but this color, clothes like this, body style like this, shoes like this, but in this color, etc.“ And you know what? I nailed it for them every time. Once you have your first image, use that as reference for the next ones.

Try to make sure your references have everything an artist will need to work from.

Ask for WIPs on big projects, and ask for changes during the sketch phase: It is generally ok to ask for a WIP sketch on a big project. General etiquette is to ask for any big changes during the sketch stage, before inking and coloring get involved.That said, do not be afraid to ask for what you want. If, at the sketch stage, something is off, speak up. Be frank, but do be polite. Every rule also has its exceptions. If your character has purple hair, and the artist has colored it blonde, mention that. If they missed that little tattoo that is on your ref sheet, mention it. One thing, though, do not ask artists to work off of several conflicting sheets. The collage idea only works if you're just starting out, and it's confusing to jump back and forth between conflicting references.

Regarding artistic license: Ask if an artist is comfy with that, first. Some people genuinely like seeing where an artist will take something. This is lovely! However, some of us are very uneasy with it, and want a clear idea of what you want. Also, if you choose to let an artist create something for you, with no more input than the initial contact and concept, please don't ask for a bunch of changes. Many people think they want to be surprised, but actually do have a vision in mind, and become disappointed if they don't get a vision they never communicated in the first place. That isn't fair to any of the parties involved!

Be respectful of boundaries: If an artist says they are uncomfortable with a subject, do not push them to engage with said subject. Period, end of story. An artist also shouldn't press you to let them use any of your characters in ways you don't like.

Don't argue with an artist's prices: If you can't afford something, that's ok. We aren't judging you, we're probably poor, too. But don't argue or be rude about a price. “Wow, I wish I could afford that!” is the “If it doesn't scan, it's free, right?” of the art world. Please do not. Especially on an open commissions announcement or something, because at that point you're getting in the way of paying clients instead of just being pithy.

Pay promptly: Some artists take the whole thing upfront, some take half upfront and half after. Some dangerous fools don't take any money upfront, paid only on completion. Whatever methodology they take, pay at the time that you agree to.

Tipping: It is good form to tip an artist, if you can afford to. Most people do not know this. Artists often undersell their wares, and if you think its worth more, even that up with a tip.

Do not buy what you can't afford: Dear, god, the last thing I want to hear from a client is that they aren't eating or paying their bills to buy something from me. Please, take care of yourself and do not buy art if you are in danger! Food, meds and shelter first! We're out of a job if our clients die off, you know!

Be respectful of time: If you have a date you need something by, make sure that's clear, and that the artist agrees to that date. Generally, there can be roughly 24 hours of play in response time on either end, since both you and the artist do have lives. You may not even live in the same time zone! Both can be patient with that. And, of course, if either has an emergency or illness, that's different. Asking after something more than once a day is a bit clingy, but also, don't leave an artist hanging for days on end if they're asking for feedback.

While my words might have gotten long in the tooth, I would like to hope these are cogent in the majority. I'm blessed to do this work, and blessed with good clients, so hopefully this little guide can shine a light for anyone wondering how to be a good one, too!

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 18: Back In The Saddle. Part Six

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2½ Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Really thought this was just gonna be a cute filler episode I could whack off (lol) in like 2 or 3 parts but somehow we're on part 6? My longest review EVER both in number of parts and also in words? (A Tisket A Tasket may have gone on for 10 parts had Lorelai not made me rage quit).

How the hell did we get here? Oh.

Mark my words. I will hunt you both for sport. The only saving grace here is that our favorite pornographic film, Insatiable Cougar Does Her Daughter's Boyfriend, will mercifully cum to an end in about 1 minute and the remainder of the episode will return to pointless filler once more. I just realized there is no Jess in this episode, at all. Not even a counter-wiping scene stuck on at the end. BOO. Dean is confused by this concept of giving Rory "personal space" so Lorelai, of all people, is going to try to explain it to him like he's 5. No, literally, he does not know what "Space" means. Behold!

Absolutely breathtaking. The audacity of Lorelai Gilmore to gently tell Dean that Rory needs "just a little bit of space" after his behavior in this episode that fits the legal definitions of stalking and harrasment (I looked them up, lol). Where does she find it?

Did your parents spoon feed you lead paint chips as a child? How can one person be this fucking dumb? How have your remaining brain cells not yeeted themselves out of your head already?

"I... don't understand."

Rory Gilmore, you are in grave danger. Your mother is so blinded by her DeanLust she is throwing you to the lions (again).

Never ever, Dean. She's going to give you a sloppy beej when this talk is over. L (flirtily): If I was trying to get rid of you, I'd start telling you stories about my family! Har har har! You're soooo funny, Lorelai Gilmore!

L: I'm not telling you this to try to get rid of you, but to help things between you guys. Just try it! Ms. Gilmore, please explain to the court where Rory asked for your help. Just try not be doing a scary douchecanoe for one hour, Dean. I know that seems like a Herculean task, my man. But just try it.

"Wash my car"-stick your dick in my mouth"

What sexual favor is "a soda” code for, as she's asked him twice already (he keeps sounding reluctant to accept, so I am to assume it’s some freaky thing that only comes with the experience of a much older woman, and he’s nervous about his first time).

Whew. That had to be the most overwhelming sexual tension I've had the misfortune of witnessing thus far on my Gilmore Girls hell-journey. I'm scarred. It's going to be imposible to remove from my psyche, stuck there like chewed gum, or like Jess Mariano's sidewalk drawings. And I thought nothing could ever eclipse these levels of sexual tension:

Or one of the many instances of this

No, this one beats em all by a mile. The big difference being that the other scenes make me want to throw up my hands and rejoice, while this scene made me want to throw up my intestines.

ARE YOU DONE?!

The remainder of the episode contains the conclusion of the z plot involving MIchel's mother which I've barely paid attention to.

Michel is mad at Lorelai because she overstepped her boundaries once more, so that's good. Let the hatred flow my man! I need to recruit as many soldiers as possible for my Anti Lorelai Gilmore army. Take your anger a step further and report her to the labor board in Connecticut for her undoubtedly shaky bookkeeping, close down the whole operation, send her out to the streets and Rory into a nice foster home, and you can find a nice job at a real hotel. Am I thinking too far ahead again?

"The lunchbox of the new Millenium." or the RX 2002 First Aid Kit? Which lame-o creation which would only excite the most lifeless of Teens will emerge victorious?

Now here's some sexual tension I don't mind. Thank god. I needed relief.

And another sucky competitor throws its hat in the ring!

Spoiler alert: they are not it.

The part where he finishes these sentences with "including yours" must have gotten left on the editing room floor.

Just another reminder that Madelyn over there in the background invented the smart speaker, and Rory said her smart speaker couldn't be made because no one at Chilton knew how to build a robot, but there's a sign behind her for an invention called "The robotic dissector", whatever the hell that is. They should have had those dudes on their team, because every single person on the RX 2002 development team was completely dead weight except for Paris.

I totally forgot about this other male douchecanoe. WTF is a "hose hook"? And a locker refrigerator? WHAT? I thought these were supposed to be practical inventions? Why is every invention so god damn terrible? How can Douchecanoe Charleston possibly choose a winner? I can never un-know Charleston as Doug Heffernan's dad on one of my favorite shows, King Of Queens, where he had a completely different accent and not the quasi-British thing he's got going on.

The Locker Alarm wins. Grown Adult Man Richard Gilmore take this loss of a high school invention fair, one his granddaughter contributed nothing to, quite personal. In a tired sequence of events that we have already seen unfold many times before and one which will unfold to the extreme in the next episode, something unfortunate but hardly life altering happens to Rory that she takes in total stride while the adults in her life invalidate her feelings and lose their shit on her behalf anyway. If you guessed “Richard is having a coronary over Rory's loss at a silly school business fair and Rory could not care less”, come on down and collect your prize.

R: You've all put in an extrodinary amount of time, effort, and thought into this. Rory's entire contribution to the project was "This is amazing. I want one of these." Richard is not having it and he is taking it up with DCC. I get the sense this is not actually about Rory at all and is really some kind of Old Man Vs. Old Man Personal Beef about stocks and bonds or golf or something.

In what should come as a surprise to no one, I was right about something again 😁 turns out Richard was bored with retirement or something, so his solution was to take out his frustration on Douche Canoe Charleston because he knew him from Old Man Business Land, and he was jealous DCC had a job? And he didn’t care if he humiliated Rory in the process. I have no more room for screen shots and I refuse to make this a seven parter so you're going to have to use your imagination for the last 8 minutes, kay? Rory expresses to Richard that she's okay with the loss and she does not want Richard to bring this up to the principal but he doesn't listen to her. He says she was robbed and he is not going to sit back and let it go! ARGH!! My poor girl!!! Richard complains to the Manager while Rory has to sit back and watch and while wishing Lorelai would just dump her off with some strange relative like Liz did to Jess so she didn't have to be part of this awful family. Richard to DCC: Out there in the real world, there is no way a locker alarm would be a viable business investment! It's a school that should be training children for the real world! Oh, right, a locker alarm is useless, but a lunchbox full of band aids isn't. The only ground Richard has to stand on here is that if the best minds in this expensive school can't create anything better than a "hose hook" and a "locker refrigerator" then indeed, their educators are clearly failing them. If Richard and Emily had raised Rory instead of Lorelai, you know Richard would have been picking a fight with Rory's kindergarten teacher if she came in second place in the class spelling bee. Richard: I DEMAND A RECOUNT! DCC: Richard, this is not the real world, this is just school. This is so embarrassing. Rory should go on and pull the fire alarms and evacuate the school just to put an end to this humiliation. I feel like every time I have stated "I got no problems with Richard" at the beginning of an episode I've been so, so wrong. I'll stop doing that from now on. At Friday night dinner, Richard is sulking in his room like a baby over his granddaughter's loss at a high school inventors fair, and Lorelai GIlmore, of all people, suggests to Emily he should go to therapy, because "there's nothing wrong with getting help". Does Lorelai ever listen to herself? Where does she keep finding the nerve to advise other people to do things that she refuses to do herself? Clean up your own house first, woman. Emily of course responds that therapy is only for deviants, people with multiple personalties, and disturbed people who lick parking meters and think their dogs can talk. And so another week goes by where all four Gilmores push their numerous emotional traumas deep, deep down inside once more where they can continue to bubble and fester. Things aren't looking too good for little Chaz Gilmore, Rory's son, to break the cycle. (I've decided Rory has a boy just to throw the whole darn Gilmore Woman dynamic off its axis and give things a little pizzazz). (but what would Rory name a boy? Please do not say "Jess Jr." ) After hours of sulking, Richard emerges from his room chipper as a daisy asking for dinner, confusing us all. We come to find out that due to Rory's non-contribution to the invention of a Lunchbox full of Band Aids, Richard has been inspired to come out of retirement. That makes a whole lot of sense. Rory recieves a page from Dean on the way home from FND and Lorelai is pleased as fucking fruit punch to learn that her sloppy but satisfying sexual services earlier in the kitchen were enough to convince Dean to reduce his harassment down to one page per two days. Rory states he hasn't "Called or mysteriously appeared next to me" in two days! Lorelai is pleased that he's "calming down"! The bar is so low! Rory is relieved to get some breathing room from Dean, so to celebrate, Lorelai encourages Rory to call him anyway, then when Rory says no Lorelai asks if she’s super duper sure that she doesn’t want to call Dean.

You can keep your corny little froo froo sitcoms where people learn valuable life lessons at the end of every episode. No one ever learns anything or betters themselves on Gilmore Girls and that’s the way we like it.

Lorelai arrives home, late at night, after dropping Rory off at Lane's house (weird turn of events, but OK, I'm sure this is going to be some kind of set up for Teach Me Tonight) to find Dean sitting on her porch, sulking. Despite the fact that this is the second time in one day that he has shown up at her house to wait for Rory completely unannounced, Lorelai does not find his repeat behavior the least bit concerning. Little baby is pouting and trespassing on private property because he really struggled and put his four brain cells to work to come to a conclusion: his repeated harrassment towards Rory, for some strange reason, isn't endearing her to him, so she may just prefer the company of Jess instead of a DoucheCanoe Wtihout A Paddle. Lorelai merely sticks out her lower lip, gives him some puppy dog eyes, and pities this poor dumb creature who she has an unbearable, aching sexual attraction to. Then he walks off into the night, hopefully over a steep embankment into a pit of alligators. Goodnight.

[storiesofsvu]

https://www.tumblr.com/storiesofsvu/756561724151414784/ask-game-for-fanfic-writers

How about every integer of 10? 🙏🫡

10,20,30,40,50,60,70,80,90,100

(or less if that's too much)

ooo bless!

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles and how easy or hard is that for you?

fuck. i HATE titles. 99% of the time it's the very last thing I do and half the time i forget about it until i open tumblr to make the post. For one shots i generally read through it again and pick a phrase or repeating word and use that. For series: i'll usually pop onto discord with a brief summary and ask if ppl have ideas, otherwise i have a note in my phone of potential titles that are generally song titles or lyrics. i like my series titles to actually mean something and tie into the story whereas i dont give a fuck about the one shots LOL

20. what is your favourite trope to write?

forbidden love? we're gonna pretend that's a thing lol. like, stories have to have conflict and what's better than two people who wanna fuck/date/whatever and either can't or shouldn't, or like, their bosses would frown upon it, right? like, any and all degree of it, not particularly totally forbidden.

30. most inspirational quote you've ever read or heard that's still important to you.

christ. i cannot think of anything rn. My mind went straight to disney because there are so many things that light up my passion/motivation. the last time we were there we saw the "new" (lol) fireworks show and it had this little speech that was all "no go, let your dreams guide you, reach out and find your happily ever after" and it was kinda the resurge i needed at the time to be all "oh fuck, that's right, i just need to focus" as the old fireworks show had a bit that i like, wished on every fucking night and always made me cry about cause of how i related to it. wow i'm SO cool HA.

in high school (performing arts) certain people got to sign the theatre crossover wall at graduation and i got to and i singed it with a Fosse quote but i cannot remember it anymore for the life of me loll

40. best piece of feedback you've ever gotten?

bruh ive got no clue. i dont get/ask for feedback basically ever. esp recently people have been more just "omg so good" or "next part??" uhh... yeah, i dont think anyone ever has minus like a comment here and there with a friend when spitballing and i have a goldfish brain so i cannot remember.

50. do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

bit of both! for one shots it's usually just the prompt i was given/found and MAYBE a bit of a blurb scenario.

series: i will not start until i have a much more detailed outline and a rough idea of how it's going to end. nothing is specifically labelled and as i work on the story the outline gets longer, more fleshed out, sometimes there's full conversations or smut pieces in the outline and eventually ch's get labelled and sometimes it's like "ch 4, they go to this hotel and fuck" lol

60. where is the most dangerous place that you're written fic?

work. was stuck in the bar (that guests dont have access to) during service time with nothing else to do. my manager literally came in and teased me about not working and then later asked what i was working on and i said "fanfic, but that's all i'm telling you cause a lot o its real gay and real dirty" LOL

70. are you ever critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during or after the fact?)

i'm SO critical, but it's like, when i'm rereading it months down the road and it's been posted and too late to edit LOL. and it's mainly me just looking at old works that are SO trope filled and slightly cringe and include lot of the stuff that i no longer write.

I don't edit too much at all lol. I'll catch most typos or grammar while going/on a brief read through but it's VERY rare i'll actually go back to edit a full passage the next day or anything. Hence my very detailed outlines! i will edit from there to the fic cause i'll add to the outlines whenever something sparks in my brain and i know its good lol.

80. do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing?

uhh... no? LOL. sometimes i do, and sometimes they just end up there completely by accident.

90. do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

absolutely. why do you think there's so much profanity? LOL. but also as someone who writes mainly reader insert, there is a little bit of me in every yn i write

thanks for asking!! <3 (and that's never too much lol)

[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [9]

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC

Rating: General

Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: The final chapter, now completed after a three-year hiatus.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Chapter 9: The Past Returns, Again

Dante is shaken awake, jolting out of a deep sleep. “Huh?” he grunts as his eyes blink open, rolling to find Lir gripping his arm.

“Dante,” she says worriedly. “You need to see this.”

He sits up as she grabs the remote control, turning up the volume on the small television in their motel room. The news is on—breaking news, as evidenced by the large red letters that splash across the chyron.

He slides to the end of the bed where Lir sits, and the two are silent as they watch the report next to one another. “—National Guard, although there is still no indication if this is a domestic or foreign terrorist. Evacuations continue for the uptown area, and all citizens are urged to take shelter. Mayor Morrison has asked everyone to avoid the roads so that emergency services—”

“What's going on?” Dante finally asks.

Lir changes the channel to another newscast. This one has footage from a helicopter, and his eyes go wide as he recognizes the huge tower now standing in the center of several city blocks, reaching two or even three hundred stories tall. “Temen-ni-gru?“ he groans to himself.

”So it is connected. Is it your father?“ Lir turns to him worriedly. ”The reports are saying...“

Her voice fades and he swallows uneasily. ”I need to call Vergil.“

His brother picks up on the first ring. ”What the hell?“ he shouts. ”What the hell did you do?“

”It's the old man,“ Dante growls. ”You think I'd do this shit? He's raised the damn portal, just like you tried to do.“

Vergil goes quiet for a moment before asking, ”I did? Why?“

”For some bullshit power. But I don't think that's his plan.“ Dante sighs as he glances back at the television. ”Can you meet me there?“

Lir insists on going too, even though he tries to put his foot down. But she won't be left behind, so they climb into the car together before Dante begins to maneuver through the busy streets. Luckily most people are trying to get away from the tower, not go towards it like him, and it takes just a short drive to get as far as they can before hitting a roadblock.

Dante throws the car into park and gets out, remembering to bring Rebellion this time. ”Stay here,“ he orders.

”And get eaten by some demon? No way.“ Lir quickly scurries out behind him, picking up a piece of broken rock on the ground to hold as a weapon. It would make him laugh if it wasn't so ridiculous.

Honestly she's probably just as much in danger here than with him, so Dante just grumbles as she follows. The ground is broken beneath their feet, the force of the tower ahead having broken the concrete as it rose. Buildings on either side are in various states of brokenness, giving the place the look of some dystopian nightmare. Abandoned cars lay along the sides of the road, and Dante is grateful that there aren't any corpses on the ground.

His pocket buzzes and they stop as he fishes out his phone. ”Vergil?“

”Where are you?“

Dante looks around. ”Uh, looks like what used to be 30th Street?“

Vergil sighs. ”We're on the other side. I'll meet you inside the tower.“

”Okay, but Verge—“

The call ends before he can finish, and Dante curses as he stuffs the phone back in his pocket. ”You still good?“ he asks Lir as they start off again.

”Yeah,“ she replies, her voice shaking with nerves.

It's not until they are nearly at the entrance that they begin to encounter the first demons. Dante dispatches them easily, his muscles slightly sore from the fights the night before but thankfully remembering his maneuvers easily. It's much quicker to kill the demons with Rebellion, and he can't help but smile to himself when he catches Lir watching with awe.

Once the place is cleared of the demons he gives her a wink. ”Easy as pie,“ he says.

Lir laughs, making his skin heat, and together they head inside. The memory of the tower comes flooding back, and he looks over his shoulder, half expecting Lady to come busting through on a motorcycle. Instead, they enter the main hall and hear two voices arguing.

Vergil and Mary are there, along with the boys. ”You're not going anywhere!“ Mary is shouting.

”I have to!“ Vergil insists. ”You have no idea what you're talking about.“

”Hey, hey,“ Dante says, quickly hurrying over to the bickering couple. ”Let's all calm down.“

”You.“ Mary pokes him in the chest hard, and Dante stumbles back a few steps. ”What the hell is wrong with you? What did you do to Vergil, and what the hell is all this, and why—“

Dante holds up his hands. “Look, I'd love to fill you in, but in a few minutes this place is going to be swarming with bad guys. So why don't you all go back to the car and wait, okay? I'll make sure nothing happens to Vergil.”

Vergil seems to scoff at this and Dante braces himself for an argument; at the same time, Mary opens her mouth to yell more, but is interrupted when Vitale says, “What is that thing?”

The group turns to see a huge, three-headed dog step through the entryway. “Get back!” Dante yells, throwing out one arm.

”Dante!“

He ignores Lir's startled cry as he steps forward. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Vergil matching pace with him, drawing Yamato out of its sheath. ”You sure about this?“ Dante asks. ”I've kicked its ass before. I can do it again.”

“I'm sure,” Vergil replies.

Dante takes a glance over his shoulder to see the others heading for cover behind a pillar. Relieved they are somewhat safe, he darts ahead, moving in an arc parallel to Vergil. Together they reach the Cerberus at the same time, and with an angry cry Vergil jumps as Dante goes low, both slashing at the monster.

They work together with amazing speed, and Dante even finds himself laughing as Vergil takes off one of the heads, his own Rebellion plunging through its heart underneath. The spray of blood is warm and familiar, and Dante wonders if it would have been like this, had he and Vergil been able to stick together back in his world. They really do make a great team, killing the Cerberus almost as quickly as it arrived, and when the beast finally falls to the ground in a heap they skid to a stop next to each other, both grinning wildly as they catch their breath.

“Jackpot!” Dante shouts, pumping his fist in the air.

He offers his fist to Vergil, who bumps it with his own after a moment's hesitation. “I forgot you used to say that,” he huffs.

Dante grins. ”Can't catch your breath, old man?“

”You wish.“

He hears his name and turns, and a moment later Lir is in his arms, pulling him into a kiss. Her lips linger on his for a long moment, making Dante feel like this is all worth it after all. When she finally pulls back, Lir is grinning, and he thinks he’s never seen anything so beautiful. ”That was incredible!“ she exclaims, her eyes bright as she looks him over. ”You're not hurt, are you?“

”Me? Nah.“ Dante grins as he slings an arm around her. Usually when he fights demons he's lucky if he gets a thank you; typically it's a bill for destroyed property and a few choice words from the client. But he feels a real sense of accomplishment as Lir presses against him, watching as Mary fusses over Vergil and the boys chat excitedly.

”That was so cool!“

”Did you see all the blood?“

”Dad, you took its head right off! How did you do that?“

Vergil looks confused, shaking his head as Mary presses her hands to his face. ”I...“ He scratches his head. ”I don't know.“

”Uncle Dante, that was amazing,“ Nero gushes. ”Can I try it next?“

”No,“ Mary and Vergil answer together.

The tower suddenly shakes, and they look up as dust falls from the ceiling. ”We need to get going,“ Dante says as Vergil nods. He pulls Lir away and presses a kiss to her forehead. ”Just stay with the others, please? We need to get the old man back.“

”Dante...“

She definitely wants to protest, but Mary takes her arm. ”Let's leave it to them,“ she says. ”I think I've had enough demon hunting for one lifetime.“

Dante snorts, and with the boys protesting that they want to go too, the twins head to the staircase that leads to the upper floors. It has been years since he navigated the tower, and his memory fails once or twice as they take a wrong turn. But it mostly comes back as he reaches familiar areas, and he and Vergil easily take care of the demons that pop up in the hallways as they head towards the top of the tower.

When they reach the library, Dante feels a bout of trepidation, remembering when he left Lady there to confront Vergil. But this time it's different; his brother is beside him, not ahead, and his nerves strangely settle as they step out onto the platform on the highest level of the tower.

Sparda is there, as expected. He watches a spell that swarms in the air ahead, strange writing and patterns swirling in a glowing green. ”Yo, pop!“ Dante shouts, and Sparda jumps. ”What the fuck, man?“

He turns with a furious look on his face. ”What are you doing here? Go home!“

”You destroyed the city!“ Vergil fumes, stalking ahead until he can grab the front of their father's shirt. ”What is this? You raised a demon tower? What is wrong with you?“

”I did it for you boys,“ Sparda argues, shrugging out of Vergil's grip. ”Dante is right. It's too dangerous to let these portals exist. Mundus can break through at any time.“

”So what's the plan?“ Dante sighs, slinging Rebellion over his shoulder. ”Gonna draw him out and fight him?“

”No,“ Sparda replies. He swallows thickly as he presses his lips together tightly before responding, ”I'm going to go and defeat him.“

”You're what?“

”I'm going back to Hell,“ Sparda repeats. ”I need to finish what I should have done years ago.“

Vergil frowns but Dante laughs. ”Yeah, you're not doing shit.“

”Dante—“

”I don't need to tell you what a huge mistake that plan is, right?“ Dante asks. ”Because of all the ideas that the Spardas ever had, this is probably the dumbest.“

Sparda bristles a bit but Vergil shakes his head. ”Dad. You can't... What about mom?“

Their father shifts uncomfortably. ”She'll have you boys, and—“

”Are you crazy?“ Dante's voice shakes with anger, his temper flaring as he continues, ”You know what happened last time you took off? Mom died. Demons showed up at our house and burned it to the ground. Vergil and I were nearly killed. And not just us, Dad.

“You know how many families lose people with the demons running around? What it does to this city? Fuck, there's a goddamn cult that starts up and tries to breed it's own damn demons, because you left! You can't keep doing this. You can't keep...”

Sparda's expression is pure shock, and Dante grits his teeth, trying to get a hold of his emotions. “This isn't going to end the way you want it to,” he finally finishes.

His father looks at him sadly. “Dante...” Sparda winces and looks between the two brothers. “Vergil. I never wanted this curse to land on your shoulders.”

“Then don't leave,” Dante says. “Your leaving is what starts everything.”

Sparda nods before turning back to the spell. He lifts an arm and begins to chant, but before he can contain the magic a demonic voice sounds through the tower, making even the walls shake.

“Sparda. Finally.”

“What is that?” Vergil asks wildly.

But Dante and Sparda exchange a glance as a burst of power comes from below. They back up as the runes grow bright, then blood red, before exploding in a shower of stars. Dante holds up his arm to shield his eyes, Vergil doing the same. But Sparda stands unmoving as a huge, winged figure is revealed in the wake of the broken spell.

It stands at least twenty feet tall, its wings opening to nearly the width of the tower. “Mundus,” Sparda says with disgust. “So you've broken my seal.”

Mundus laughs, the noise like a growl. “It may have taken me three thousand years, but you could not escape me forever. Once you began your spell, I was ready with my own.”

“Shit, what do we do?” Vergil hisses.

Dante shakes his head but Sparda glances back at them over his shoulder. “Stay here,” he says. “This is my fight.”

“Like hell it is,” Dante argues. “We can help.”

But Sparda ignores them as he steps forward. His hair blows wildly behind him, his shirt flapping as magic swells around them. His palms glow as the power is rapidly drawn forth, and Vergil grips Dante's arm, both in question and in alarm.

The fight between the two demons is brutal. Magic sails between them in an elaborate dance that shakes the Temen-ni-gru and fills the air with electricity. The sons of Sparda can only watch as their father faces the King of Hell, holding onto each other to keep steady as the ground beneath them rocks with each attack.

It could have been ten minutes or ten hours, Dante could never tell. Never had he imagined such a display, even when he faced Mundus himself, even watching Nero take on the Savior, even when he and Vergil had their final, fateful fight. This is truly a fight between gods, and Dante can't help but feel a deep pride in his father's power, but also a deep sadness. He has the capability of saving the world, but only at the expense of his own family. How is any of this fair, to anyone?

The fight is nearly won, and Sparda opens the portal to Hell as Mundus staggers. Dante and Vergil brace themselves against the incredible winds that now swirl around the tower, watching in amazement as Sparda methodically takes down Mundus bit by bit.

So focused on defeating him, Sparda does not see the spear that appears just outside of the portal. Mundus is forced back, and as he steps into the portal his hand darts out to take hold of the demon weapon. Dante can see it clearly in his mind's eye: Mundus is defeated, being sent back to the demon world, but the spear will run Sparda through. But unlike when Dante did the same with Rebellion, this one will kill him.

With a cry he jumps forward, ignoring Vergil's shout as he steps into the fray. Sparda does not see him until the last second, no time to even say his name before Dante pushes him out of the way. The spear goes through his chest, making him stagger to the side, and the searing pain of the demon spear sparks a pain that he has never, ever experienced before.

Mundus is already disappearing as Dante falls to one knee. “Dante!” Sparda cries, grabbing his arm as Vergil hurries over to take the other. Dante leans forward, spitting out blood as he tries to take a breath, his lungs seared and bleeding, making it impossible. He falls backwards, the world slowing as the faces of his father and brother swirl overhead. At least they will be safe, he thinks, and then he remembers to wince as his head cracks on the ground.

“Dante? Dante!”

Someone is shaking him, and a bang brings him back to the present. Was that a dream? Is Lir shaking him awake in the motel room again? ”What?“ he rasps.

”Jesus Christ I thought you were dead. Fuck, get up.“

Nero's voice makes his eyes pop open. Slowly Dante sits up, his lungs tight as he presses a hand to his chest. There's no spear or hole, just his torn t-shirt and about a liter of blood all over him. He blinks the stars out of his vision and looks over at Nero, who is kneeling next to him. ”Must have really hit hard,“ Nero says. ”Damn, I've never seen you actually black out.“

”I what?“ Dante looks up, his vision swimming. ”Where's the queen?“

”Dead.“ Nero gives him a wink as he spins Blue Rose on his finger. ”Two bullets right between the eyes did the trick.“

”Did it...“ The dream is fading, just out of grasp, and Dante frowns. ”What the fuck happened to me?“

”Hell if I know. Come on, we should go.“

Nero hauls him to his feet and Dante stands awkwardly, trying to remember. ”Did... where's Mundus?“ he asks.

”Mundus?“ Nero makes a face. ”What made you think of that fucker? It was just a swarm. You sure you're okay?“

”Yeah, yeah...“ Bits and pieces come back: Vergil, Mary, the Temen-ni-gru. He looks at Nero and sees he is no longer a teenager. ”Yeah. Weird, weird dream or something while I was out.“

Nero laughs and claps him on the arm. ”Let's go get a drink.“

A week later, Dante sits at his desk, frowning down at the notebook on top. He had jotted down the bits of his dream he had remembered, but there was still so much that was missing. He had told Lady she was in his dream and that earned him a knock on the jaw, so the rest he had kept to himself, making notes on the shop and his parents and the fight on the tower. Dante couldn't seem to shake it, the dream clinging to his skin like the dampness after a shower.

Something was missing.

The bell above the door jingles, making him grit his teeth. Patty had put that up despite his specific instructions not to, and he had been meaning to take it down right after he checked on the seals in his dream. ”Yeah?“ he grouses.

Dante looks up to see a woman step through the door, looking around curiously. Her eyes fall on him and he sits up, wishing he was wearing a clean shirt. She has light hair, almost white, that frames her pretty face in a trendy little bob. Her outfit is casual but cute, and Dante notices right away how good the jeans look on her as she walks across the room towards his desk. And when she smiles at him in greeting, his heart jumps.

”Hi,“ she says. ”I'm looking for some help.“

”Help? I can help.“ Dante jumps up, sending his leather chair rolling, and he clears his throat as he steps around the desk. He offers her a smile as he leans one leg up against the edge, trying to look cool. ”What can I help you with?“

She looks him up and down. ”You, uh... work here?“ she asks skeptically.

”Not only that, but I own this place.“ Her brows draw in so he quickly straightens, deciding being professional will be better. ”I'm Dante,“ he offers, holding out his hand.

She still looks unconvinced but at least takes it. ”I'm Lir,“ she replies.

”What can I do for you, Lir?“ he asks.

Lir smiles again, and he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his entire life.

[twotangledsisters]

Literally Nobody: ...

My brain at 4 in the morning: What if you write an AU where Gothel wasn't Gothel, instead she was actually a good person who hid from the world because using magic (even just to keep herself alive) was expressly prohibited and when Rapunzel was born she knew the baby would be silently killed for her magic so she steals the girl.

She raises Rapunzel and Cassandra in the tower as a loving, if somewhat stuck-up and not the best at communicating, mother keeps her children safe.

Eugene arrives, doesn't realize Rapunzel is magic and they leave the tower but when Eugene learns about Rapunzel's magic he's like, "Shit, your mother is right, we gotta go back to that tower and hide you!"

But Raps and Cass are like. "No, we've seen the world now. It's not as scary as we thought! We're gonna go to the village and see the lights!"

So they escape Eugene in yet another act of teen rebellion and head to danger!

Eugene is left seeking out Gothel and being like, "Hey, may have put your daughters in massive danger but they seem nice so I'd like to work with you to get them back to safety!"

I guess the girls will somehow end up saving Corona using magic, making magic kinda accepted.... or fuck Corona and they flee all four of them because Eugene (being so well travelled) knows of a place where magic is accepted.

Gothel gets back into the tower, sacks beneath her eyes as she placed the basket of food on the kitchen counter. Another villager had questioned her youth today which meant it wouldn't be long until this village was also off-limits. Corona was a small kingdom.

Before, Gothel would have simply left Corona for a few decades before coming back, but with the girls everything was more complicated.

"Mama! Mama!" Cassandra ran down the stairs.

"Careful," Gothel warned with a roll of her eyes when Cassandra nearly tripped and fell. They were so careless. "Look, look" she held up a drawing.

Gothel shook her head. "Very nice," she started unpacking the basket. She didn't have time for her daughter's art. She had so much to do. "Has your sister been okay in my absence?"

"She's still sleeping."

"Oh," she must have taken less time than she thought. "Good."

"Will you tell us a story tonight?"

"One about the world outside?"

"No!" A nice story, with magic and happy endings."

Gothel sighed. "One real story and one pretty story," she negotiated.

Cassandra hesitated before nodding. "But the scary one goes first! The nice stories help me not get nightmares."

Gothel nodded. "Alright."

-----------------

Eugene watched the blonde named Rapunzel run around a tree, the older girl named Cassandra chasing her while holding the hair in her arms. "Slow down or I'm letting your hair go so it gets tangled up!"

He frowned. The girls were very naïve, they seemed harmless enough. But why were they kept up in that tower?

Why did the blonde not cut her hair?

And most importantly, why did they have to use him as an escort? He had so many better things to be doing.

-----------------

When they climbed onto dry land Eugene had a lot of things to consider, the first thought was they were alive.

The second was they shouldn't be.

The third one he said aloud. "Your hair glows?"

Rapunzel smiled. "It's magic."

Eugene's eyes went wide, of course it was magic! What else could it be?

Eugene for a solid five seconds felt suddenly terrified of the girls, the witched! He'd been raised on the idea that magic brought nothing but death, destruction and chaos.

But then he looked at Rapunzel's concerned green eyes and that fear morphed into fear for the girls. "We need to go back to the tower."

"No, we had a deal!" Cassandra was the one to react with anger, Rapunzel just looked confused.

"I know we did but this changed things, didn't you say the outside world was scary? Well you're right!" He rubbed the back of his head. "You're very right..."

"Hah! You already tried this trick on us!" Rapunzel grinned. "Well, we're not falling for it Mr. Rider!"

Cassandra nodded.

Eugene shook his head, "No, listen girls the world doesn't welcome your kind."

The girls shared glances before Cassandra shook her head. "Well, the people in the bar were very nice. Are you sure your kind isn't the type that isn't welcome? Cynical, annoying, stuck-up!"

Usually Eugene would argue with Cassandra, but instead he looked past her at Rapunzel, his expression pleading. "You don't need to give me the crown back, but we can't go into town."

"But... the lights?" Rapunzel's eyes filled with tears.

"We're going to see them," Cassandra grabbed her little sister's hand. "With or without your help!"

-----------------

"You must be Gothel..." Eugene spoke calmly.

The woman turned on her heels fast, eyes wide. "You. You're the thief everybody is looking for!" she shouted.

Eugene stepped back, raising his hands in a sign of peace. "Wait, no, I mean, I want to help you."

"Help me?"

"I know about the girls and the..." he leaned in and whispered, "Glowing hair," he didn't dare say magic.

Gothel paled and swallowed.

"I swear I had no idea about the hair, they wanted to see the lights so I was going to take them, but when I found out I told them we needed to get back to the tower and they slipped past..." he sounded embarrassed. "Please, I want to help you get them back safely."

The woman looked to the ground then to Eugene, she looks at her hands that were ever so slightly wrinkled, she was too close to fading right now and she supposed the girls didn't stand a chance alone. Perhaps an ally would be a good idea. "Tell me everything."

[fumblingmusings]

Do you have any music that you associate with characters when you write or in general?

My music taste is objectively bad I hope you know. I like Eurovision and K-Pop (BEFORE IT WAS 'COOL' I HAVE STANNED GIRLS GENERATION SINCE 2011 GET ON MY LEVEL BTS ARMIES OR WHOMSTEVER) so my choices are... bad. Basic. Melodramatic. Problematic? Another adjective ending in tic.

So uh. Music. You can guess if you like which songs refer to whom. I think many of them are generic enough to span many nations at one point or another. They're all far more dramatic than canon I can say that much. :|

Melanie Martinez - Void

Pipe down with the noise, I cannot bear my sorrow / I hate who I was before / I fear I won't live to see the day tomorrow / Someone tell me if this is Hell / I gotta escape that void / There is no other choice, yeah / Tryna turn down the voices / The void ate me / Look at the mess I've done / There is nowhere to run, yeah / Holding a loaded gun / The void / Like a priest behind confession walls, I judge myself / Kneeling on a metal grater / Bloody, like a body that has died and it's myself / Tangled in my own intestines

Konata x Generdyn - Fight Back

Nah, this ain't hate speech, this is faith preached / This is Shakespeare mixed with Banksy / This is screaming out until you can't breath / This is I don't care how long it takes me, yeah (I don’t care) / 'Cause I know freedom reigns here / Already overcame fear / So if I wanna see it then I gotta be / Imma be the change (Yeah) / I'm defiant, I rise in a crisis, I know what the price is, I'll show 'em what a fight is / I'm the leader of the pack / I'm here, where you at? / Set the flame light a match / I will fight back

Rina Sawayama - Holy Til You Let Me Go

Tried to pray the pain away / Just like you taught me (But something had changed) / Came to shelter from the blame / But I left taking all the shame / Oh, you saw a light starting to shine / Wanted it only for your eyes / Older and wise, God on your side / I was the martyr who paid for your life / I was innocent when you said I was evil / I took your stones and I built a cathedral / Found my peace when I lost my religion / All these years I wished I was different / But, oh, no, now I know / I’m holy till you let me go

Chelsea Wolfe - The Waves Have Come

Creation was the only word that made you feel you never were / An endless hope is all it was and holding sacred all were / And don't forsake the way we were and don't tell me you never would / And we don't need physical things to make us feel and make us dream / When earth cracks open and swallows then / We'll never be tired again / And we'll be given everything the moment we realize we're not in control / And all you know gets older when the sun goes down and everything / Begins to fade away the waves have come and taken you to sea / Never to return to me

Lana del Rey - National Anthem

It's a love story for the new age / For the six-page, we're on a quick, sick rampage / Winin' and dinin', drinkin' and drivin', excessive buyin' / Overdose and dyin' on our drugs and our love / And our dreams and our rage / Blurrin' the lines between real and the fake / Dark and lonely, I need somebody to hold me / He will do very well, I can tell, I can tell / Keep me safe in his Bell Tower Hotel / Money is the anthem of success / So put on mascara and your party dress / I'm your national anthem, boy put your hands up / Give me a standing ovation / Boy, you have landed, babe, in the land of / Sweetness and danger, queen of Saigon

Marina - Immortal

I wanna be immortal like a god in the sky / I wanna be a silk flower like I'm never gonna die /I wanna live forever, forever in your heart / And we'll always be together from the end to the start / That's what we do it for, to reserve a place / It's just another part of the human race / That's what we do if for, to reserve a space / In history it's just part of the human race, race / I'm forever chasing after time but everybody dies, dies / If I could buy forever at a price, I would buy it twice, twice / But if the Earth ends in fire and the seas are frozen in time / There'll be just one survivor, he memory that I was yours and you were mine

Loreen - Under Ytan

I often think about you / As if you were my own brother / I have changed too / Into a merciless monster / When I see all the evil / That we, as human beings, have unleashed / The senseless suffering / Then I find it harder to understand / That we all were children once / And we all were helpless once / We loved without limits / We loved unconditionally / Under the surface / We're all small / Under the surface / A good soul can be lost