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never-afters · 3 months ago

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DEMO. (SOON)

The crowning of a jealous king one century ago spelled the doom of invokers, beings bestowed with the ability to control the essence of the world and manifest it in the surface. Out of envy that he was naught but a normal human, he ordered the capture and execution of invokers, reinforcing his power as a king. He made an enemy out of your people to secure his pride and throne.

A hundred of years passed and the slaughter only continues, a jealous ruler crowned one after another. The land of Zandria is stained with the blood of your ancestors, and it only continues to spill. You, who were once revered, admired, and loved, are now loathed, imprisoned, and executed simply for bearing the ability to manipulate aether, the essence of the land of Aeresia.

You are an invoker. Do you have what it takes to survive the wrath of a land that calls for your death? Or will you, like the ones before you, fall into the abyss?

Abyssal Depths is a dark fantasy set in the fictional world of Aeresia. It is the revamped version of my interactive fiction previously titled Invoker.

˖⋆࿐໋₊ Who are you? Only you have the answer to that question. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Build bonds with the people you meet. Friendship, rivalry, romance — pick your poison. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Disguise yourself as a human, working as a mercenary for the guild Sentinel. Try your best to hide the truth from your guildmates. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Do your job. Who knows? Maybe along the way, you'll find what you're looking for. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Survive. Perhaps you'll live long enough to see all the mysteries unravel.

Elfrid Basset [f] ✦ Your childhood friend and the daughter of the woman who saved you. Elfrid has always had a strong personality, always pushing you out of your comfort zone. Stubborn, impulsive, yet caring to those she cares about, there was never a time where trouble never followed her. She doesn't know your truth, but as people say, there is no secret that lasts forever.

Lucianus le Cordiér [m] ✦ An ex-noble you and Elfrid stumbled upon a year ago one night. Without the riches and reputation his family once had, Lucian brandished his skill as a swordsman and earned himself a spot as a mercenary in the same guild as you. He appears kind, gentle and open, but the air of mystery that surrounds him proves that no one truly knows who he was once.

Alcaeus Vanderbilt [m] ✦ A person from your past that you thought you will never see again. Meeting him may mean good things, but perhaps it also meant that the ghosts from your past are now catching up to you. Smart, skilled, but surrounded by walls he built to protect himself, Alcaeus won't let anyone take away anything from him again.

Amelia Vanderbilt [f] ✦ Someone from your past who lives with the guilt of surviving. Amelia has always been sickly, but despite everything she has outlived everyone else. She's still the timid and soft-spoken girl you barely saw back home, the only thing you can't believe is her unwavering trust that there is still good left in the world you're both living in.

Clair [m] ✦ A traveling bard who decided one day it will be fun to go adventuring with you and your group. He said he wants to turn your exploits into a great story, and no matter how hard you dissuade him, he never relents. Charming and cunning, that's how Clair is, and you never realized how dangerous those two qualities together were until you met him.

Salomé [f] ✦ An eccentric woman you met in the middle of your mission. Boisterous, fun, yet eccentric, it's hard not to notice her with all the rings that adorn her fingers and the scars that she flaunts like trophies. She tries to come off as someone who knows nothing, but you have the feeling that she hides something you need to know. You wonder what it could be.

Kazehara [f/m/nb] ✦ With clothes you've never seen around Zandria, Kazehara stood out like a sore thumb the first time you saw them. Framed for a murder they swear they never did, they join you in an attempt to clear their name. Sarcastic, cynical, and brash, there is never a shortage of insult from Kazehara. However, you know too well that it's merely an image they conjured to protect themselves in a land they know nothing about.

??? [f/m/nb] ✦ A figure in your dreams, blurred and ever changing. A memory of the past, a phantom of your grief, your desire for warmth — you do not know. However, the way they speak, the way they try to meet your eyes behind the fog that keeps them at bay, and the way they try to reach for you make them seem real. They feel familiar, and there exists a tug in your soul that pulls you closer to them.

OTHERS

✦ Ask box is open! Any question is okay but there is no guarantee that your ask will be answered. Anything that are spoilery, disrespectful, and extremely explicit will be deleted. ^^ ✦ The demo for Invoker can still be accessed through google search. However, it hasn't been updated since 2021, and won't be updated anymore. ✦ This project is not my main focus as I'm a full time university student. My goal is to release the demo before 2024 ends, though. ✦ I haven't decided which platform to use for the demo yet, but rest assured that writing is as consistent as it can be despite my busy schedule. I haven't had the chance to learn how to use Twine yet, so I'm either planning to look for a collaborator who can code in Twine or stick with choicescript first until I get to learn how to use Twine. ✦ I will be posting character profiles for the ROs, though there are no set dates yet. This is to give way for a more detailed description for their personality and physical appearance.

#abyssal depths #AD-if #announcement #interactive fiction #aaand we're back guys!#im so nervous to be back ><#reblogs are highly appreciated!

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cevansgoodgirl · 4 months ago

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I’m not gonna talk about Blake lively because everyone is doing it and there’s nothing I can say that hasn’t already been said.

But I will talk about Justin Baldoni. Justin Baldoni is probably one of the only men in the movie making industry that has ever put women first. Not for his own personal gain but to empower women. To tell their stories and experiences.

He did a TED talk years ago that I’ll never forget when the Me Too movement was happening. Where he talks about how women and statistics say it’s not a matter of “if” women being assaulted whether it be sexually, emotionally, physically happens, it’s a matter of “when”. He is a man who knows that women simply existing in this world have to live with this fear of this type of reality. He spoke up and it’s always stuck with me.

Not only that but the projects he’s been involved in? That he’s directed ? Never were about HIM. Or what he can do, what fucking brand he has or any shit like that. His stories he told were about the people directly inspired by them.

Five feet apart - Claire Wineland- dedicated and inspired by her. Brought awareness for cystic fibrosis. Still gives and bring awareness to the organization that helps people and families with this disease.

Clouds- zach sobiech’s story of a kid with terminal cancer diagnosis of osteosarcoma., who wanted to make music. Met Justin years before the movie and changed Justin’s life.

The man is bringing awareness to these things AND TOXIC MALE MASCULINITY!?!? The man enough podcast? The book? Where he talks about not only his experiences but is bringing awareness for MEN

God bless this man. Everything he does and works on speaks for itself. He is a selfless man who is telling different stories in the most real way possible. Not Sugar coating a DV movie about it being rainbows and lollipops and sunshine and to get your florals and go see the movie like it’s the fucking notebook.

He wanted it to be as real as possible. To the point where he literally feels sick or disgusted with the character he played because of how he had to ACT. The man is a god send.

YOU CAN NEVER MAKE ME HATE JUSTIN BALDONI

#justin baldoni #it ends with us #blake lively

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youremyheaven · 9 months ago

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Rahu & Ketu: Abuse & Addiction

TW: drug overdose, death, suicide, abuse, childhood abuse

Nodal influence can be very destabilising and intoxicating. They're opposites but as they say the extremes of anything is a meeting point for it's opposite, so Rahu & Ketu share many similarities.

Rahu & Ketu are both shadow planets, Rahu is the head whereas Ketu is the tail. This in itself reveals much about the nature of the two. Rahu is over immersed in the world whereas Ketu is completely cut off from it.

When I say Rahu is over immersed/over stimulated, I don't mean they're profoundly connected to reality, I mean the opposite, they're deeply immersed in Maya/illusion that they often have no sense of reality. Rahu is the head, imagine if you lived in your head all the time? You'd be in your own la la land, disconnected from what is actually happening around you. This is Rahu energy. Without your body, you cannot use your senses, you cannot fully feel alive or experience reality. Rahu being the head means you're cut off from what is "real". You only live in your head and what happens in your head is very subjective and completely illusory.

They are so deeply immersed in an illusory world. This can manifest as substance addiction, video gaming, fame, material success, internet addiction, overly obsessed with "binging" content, maladaptive daydreaming etc, any experience that disconnects you from what is "real" and immerses you in something that feels very real but isn't real. Both Rahu and Ketu people suffer from addiction, Claire had mentioned that Nodal influence can make someone prone to addiction but why Rahu and Ketu are addicted tend to be very different. Rahu is overstimulated, they always need more of everything. There are people who spend 10 hours a day just watching YouTube videos or IG reels or whatever, that's because they need that much stimulation, since they live in their heads. Their minds need that kind of fodder to thrive off of. Once you start using any kind of substance, your brain builds a tolerance for it and you have to start using higher and higher doses to get the same high. When a Rahu native accumulates wealth, they start indulging in it but nothing is ever enough. They never feel "full", they don't have that fuse in their brain that flares up and says "this is enough". Basically they never know when to stop, they just keep going and going and going with anything they immerse themselves in. People play video games for 3-4 days straight without leaving their game set up. They don't ever feel satisfied. This is scary because "feeling full" is our brain's way of asking us to stop. Without that mechanism, we would overindulge and overdo everything which is what these natives do.

This is also why relationships are so tricky for Nodal people. They give too much and immerse themselves to the point where it's detrimental to the relationship. You either feel like you're losing part of yourself to it or the other person feels like you're consuming their energy too much (which makes them feel drained). Moderation does not exist for Nodal people either they're completely detached or they're completely obsessed.

Its similar to Jupiter energy in the sense that Jupiter is also very expansive and has the ability to immerse itself in everything and give so much but Jupiter has other principles that firmly ground it in reality as it is not a shadow planet like Rahu. It is not suspended in an illusion, Jupiter natives give so much or do so much because they have the internal space to do so, not out of a tendency to immerse themselves in Maya/illusion. Jupiter is the opposite, they see through Maya and find it hard to consciously part take in it.

Taylor Swift- Ardra Moon

She works harder than anybody in the biz. Her concerts are like 3 hours long and she does like 40-50 shows on average. She's ALWAYS doing THE most. She releases a new album every 2 years or so, has other projects etc this is a positive manifestation of Rahu energy because it allows you to be deeply immersed in your craft and your world but it also means you live in a bubble and you are cut off from "real life".

Ketu is the tail, it is cut off from reality and feels profoundly disconnected to reality. It is hard for these natives to feel like they relate to anything. This is why Ketuvians struggle with addiction. They use substances because they want to feel something, want to feel tethered, want to feel connected. They have to use higher doses because it helps them feel heightened emotions when they usually don't feel anything at all.

Ketu is connected to spirituality because natives who feel disconnected from the real world to this extent find it easier to immerse themselves in the occult and in esoterica. It is more abstract and requires you to think non-logically, i.e, experientially, but this is something Ketuvians have a hard time with, they themselves feel very "abstract" or like they aren't real or don't exist, so while they're intrinsically drawn to the esoteric, they feel untethered/ungrounded by immersing themselves in it too much. They need something they can cling to, they need something solid that they can attach themselves to.

All Rahuvian nakshatras belong to the Shudra caste, specifically the Butcher caste, this is very interesting because Shudra is the lowest caste (Mleccha is "outcaste" which means it exists outside the system entirely), to be Rahuvian means to operate on the lowest level. Butchers have to slaughter meat to make a living, that is unpleasant and brutal work, and only if they are disconnected from it can they keep doing it. They cannot be too focused on what they actually do because then it will be hard for them to do their tasks. They're not repulsed by it because they're disconnected from it.

2/3 Ketuvian naks are also Shudra caste whereas Ashwini is the only Ketu nak that is upper caste as it is a Vaishya nak.

(table by me hehe)

Rahuvian naks are found in all 3 ganas (Swati is deva gana, Ardra is manushya gana, Shatabhisha is rakshasa gana)

2/3 Ketuvian naks are Rakshasa gana (Mula, Magha) with only Ashwini being a Deva gana nak

I feel like Ketuvians are always made to feel like the bad guy / people villainize them a lot. They're the "ugly ducklings" who have to "win" approval as they're never accepted for who they are.

Rahu needs to immerse itself in something because its sensory perception is limited and they need to really indulge to grasp what is "real". Its very common for people with heavy Rahuvian or Rahu in a malefic placement to experience hallucinations or feel like their grip on reality is very thin.

Ketu has nothing perceive with at all. Its like being completely lost in the shadows or the dark. There's no perception taking place at all, it makes the natives inwardly drawn because its truly hard for them to absorb from their surroundings unlike Rahu which absorbs easily and fully. Rahu is over immersed whereas Ketu lacks immersion at all.

Lets look at the yoni animals of Rahu & Ketu naks respectively

Rahu: Ardra -dog yoni, Shatabhisha- horse yoni, Swati-buffalo yoni

Ketu: Magha-rat yoni, Mula- dog yoni, Ashwini-horse yoni

one common theme is that all these animals are abused, mistreated and exploited

(rats are the go to animal for lab testing, dogs are valued for their loyalty and are at the mercy of their owners, horses are made to endure so much labour, buffalos are farm animals)

all of these animals are also associated with dirt/filth in some way or another which is perhaps why people with Nodal influence often have a dishevelled appearance. They're bad at taking care of themselves.

Both horse yoni & dog yoni are divided among Rahu & Ketu naks whereas the yoni consort for Swati is Hasta (Moon ruled) and Magha is Purvaphalguni (Venus ruled).

Horses are very strong but very fragile animals. They start walking almost immediately after birth, they sleep standing up but they require a lot of attention and care as their health tends to be very fragile. Even though horses are associated with working hard, its not exactly innately part of their nature, it's just that they've been domesticated into being that way. It represents a very powerful active energy, as horses can be highly temperamental and unpredictable.

Dog yoni on the other hand, makes a person very needy and eager to please others. Dogs depend on the affection of their owners and without it they feel unhappy. Both these nakshatras have obsessive tendencies and a people pleasing nature. They're also two nakshatras who endure abuse the most.

I've noticed that a lot of people tend to have both nodes in their chart and I wonder what its like to house such contradictions. On one hand you're extremely involved, on the other, you're supremely detached.

The entertainment industry is one where people with Nodal influence really thrive but also often, self-destruct themselves. Its immensely hard to balance these energies since Rahu heightens whatever is in it, the way Jupiter expands whatever it touches. Both planets make you feel manic but in different ways.

Addiction is the result of an overactive nervous system and a coping mechanism. Ketu feels cut off from society/life/the world so in order to feel connected, it over indulges. Rahu needs something that will help them fully lose themselves, idk if I'm explaining it properly but you know how the best movies you've watched are the ones where you feel like you were in them experiencing those things with the characters? Its like that

There is an unhappy pattern of Rahu & Ketu influenced people being abused, I have especially noted this among child actors but also others.

Taylor Momsen- Swati Moon

Her parents signed her up with Ford Modeling when she was just 2 years old. "No 2-year-old wants to be working, but I had no choice. My whole life, I was in and out of school. I didn't have friends. I was working constantly and I didn't have a real life."

This theme of not experiencing "real life" or reality is very prominent in the lives of Rahuvian and Ketuvian people. It can be interpreted in many ways according to the context but there is always a sense of being deprived of what was "normal" or "real" as a result of which these natives had to live in their imagination or indulge in other things.

Like the child star who worked their whole life playing other people (acting is very Rahuvian) or the loner kid who spends all their time immersed in movies or video games because that feels more "real" to them.

Fame is also an inherently Rahuvian experience bc it's an illusion & a prison.

Judy Garland- Ardra Rising, Mula Moon

She was emotionally abused and controlled by her mother who got her addicted to drugs by the time she was a teenager. She was also sexually abused by the studio executives she worked with. Judy had a very tough life.

Aaron Carter, Ardra Moon, Mula Rising

Aaron Carter claimed that as a teen musician, his family spent $500 million of his money on 15 houses and 30 cars. He claimed that when his parents sold the houses, he didn't get a cut of the profits. He also alleged that his dad shot a .44 magnum near his ear — which resulted in him going 70% deaf in one ear — to force him into signing a $256,000 check.

Being heavily tattooed (more examples at the end of this post) is also a very Nodal thing to do.

He unfortunately passed away in 2022 from an accidental drug overdose. This is also a very unfortunate pattern among Nodal celebrities.

Macaulay Culkin- Shatabhisha Moon, Magha Sun & Mercury

Macaulay Culkin's father Kit managed him during his childhood career. Macaulay has shared that his father was controlling and had him on a very busy filming schedule in the early '90s. He added his father made him stay up every night to study the lines he would have to say the next day. Macaulay asserted that his father was "such a crazy person" that he forced him to do SNL without cue cards when he hosted the show at 11 years old. Macaulay has explained that he felt his father was jealous of him because “everything he tried to do in his life I excelled at before I was 10 years old.”When Macaulay stopped acting after his 1994 movie Richie Rich, he told his parents, “I’m done, guys — hope you all made your money because there is no more coming from me.”His parents were never married and after he stopped acting, his mother filed for custody. Macaulay ended up taking his parents to court to stop them from controlling his $17 million in earnings. Since then, he and his father have been estranged.

I feel like the "child star gone wild" is a trope meant specifically for Nodal people

Keke Palmer, Magha Sun & Mercury, Mula Moon

Palmer shared on IG:

"Due to traveling and scheduling both of my parents had to stop working to support my career and be present for my three siblings, leaving me with the financial responsibility around age 12. Which I took great pride in because I knew what it would do for generations to come and a huge blessing that I could even help out. However it caused me a lot of pain because I essentially had to abandon my childhood feelings and desires, becoming like a parentalized child, which is something some of you can probably relate to in your own way. This was something that I have had to continuously work through because I am grateful but often feel like.. I missed “IT”. Life can be such a tragic comedy because how funny is it.. that now becoming an actual parent, and the responsibility I’ve always carried being more valid now than ever, has in fact given me the chance to feel what it’s like to be a kid again, I get a chance to explore a lot of the things I missed out on with my son, His freedom is like, the most priceless gift to me. He is already teaching me so much, it’s like he awakened the little me inside that I thought was long gone."

Ketu dominance = being your own parent, being neglected by your family or having to be your parent's parent.

Michael Jackson, Magha Sun & Mercury, Shatabhisha Rising

From a young age Jackson was physically and mentally abused by his father, enduring incessant rehearsals, whippings and name-calling. Jackson's abuse as a child affected him throughout his grown life. reading about the lives of the Jackson siblings and how severely they were all abused is very perspective altering and sad

Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen, Magha Moon, Ashlesha Rising (inc the ashlesha placement bc its another nak often subject to control and abuse)

“With what we were doing in business when we were younger, I don’t think it ever felt like we were actresses,” Mary-Kate “Because we spend so much more of our time not in front of the cameras, building a brand. Ashley agreed, saying: “I always looked at myself, even as a kid, as a business woman.” Mary-Kate said she wouldn't wish her childhood on anyone, and said she felt like a "monkey performer."

they quit acting in the mid 2000s and rarely make public appearances and god only knows what they endured in the business bc neither of them will talk about it.

Sarah Michelle Geller, Ashwini Sun conjunct Ketu, Shatabhisha Moon

Sarah herself enjoyed the path she'd ended up on, she has rules in place for her own daughter. Recalling the "industry abuses" she experienced as a teenager in Hollywood, she said she hoped she'd "set up a safety net for these actors that I didn't have," but that she and husband Freddie Prinze Jr. have "rules in place" that mean daughter Charlotte "can't be in front of a camera until she graduates high school."

Kylie Jenner, Swati Moon

Kylie started appearing on her family's reality show when she was 10

In 2016, she told her sister Kim in an episode of the show: "I feel like I've had anxiety for too long. I feel too much, I care too much, I read too much. Some people are born for this life and some people aren’t. I just know I’m not supposed to be famous.” in an old IG post she said: "I’m proud of myself, my heart, and my strength. Growing up in the light with a million eyes on you just isn’t normal. I’ve lost friends along the way and I’ve lost myself too sometimes. My first tattoo was 'sanity' to remind myself everyday to keep it. I’ve struggled with anxiety my whole young adult life." "I know I don't want to be famous forever. There's gonna be a time where I feel comfortable, I'm at a good place in my life, and I just stop."

Natalie Wood, Ashwini Moon

The late Natalie Wood was forced into acting by her mother, Maria, who missed her chance to become a performer and instead focussed her efforts on pushing her daughters to stardom.

While young Natalie had a natural talent for performing, it seemed that her reason for going to movie sets was more to please her mother than to quench any desire of her own.

Bella Thorne, Mula Moon

"I was sexually abused and physically growing up from the day I can remember till I was 14. When I finally had the courage to lock my door at night and sit by it. All damn night." She has also stated that she only started acting as a child to support her family.

Drew Barrymore, Shatabhisha Sun

Drew's mother took her to clubs and allowed her access to drugs and alcohol, ultimately leading to her institutionalization at the age of 13, and emancipating herself at 14. Drew described fame at such a young age as "a recipe for disaster."

Edith Piaf, Mula Sun & Mercury, Magha Mars

Born in Paris practically on the streets, she struggled from day one, the daughter of street performers. The mother, a singer, eventually abandoned both Edith and her father for a solo career. Piaf spent her youth entertaining passers-by, receiving little formal education in the process. She often accompanied her father's acrobat street act with her singing and at various times was forced to live with various relatives, in alleys or in cheap hotels. An aborted love affair left her with a baby girl at age 17, but little Marcelle died of meningitis at 2 years old. Devastated, Piaf returned to the streets she knew, now performing solo. Her fortunes finally changed when an impresario, Louis Leplee, mesmerized by what he heard, offered the starving but talented urchin a contract. He alone was responsible for taking her off the streets at age 20 and changing her name from Edith Gassion to "La Mome Piaf" (or "Kid Sparrow"). Piaf grew in status entertaining in elegant cafés and cabarets and became a singing sensation amid the chic French society with her throbbing vocals and raw, emotional power. From 1936, Piaf recorded many albums and eventually became one of the highest paid stars in the world.

Later in life she became an addict and died in poverty at the age of 47.

Brittany Murphy, Swati Moon & Venus

she was a child star who was managed by her controlling mom. she battled with eating disorders and drug addiction. rip britt.

Justin Bieber, Shatabhisha Sun conjunct Saturn

Justin shot to fame at a very young age and was severely exploited by his management/everybody around him

Now here are some heavily tatted celebs and their placements

L to R

Rihanna- Shatabhisha Sun

Paris Jackson- Ardra Moon

Cheryl Cole- Ardra Sun & Mars, Shatabhisha Moon

Demi Lovato- Magha Sun

Jungkook- Magha Moon, Mula Rising

Ruby Rose- Swati Rising

Machine Gun Kelly- Ashwini Sun

The 27 club refers to a phenomenon where several musicians have died by age 27, many from an overdose. Unfortunately many of them have Nodal influence.

Brian Jones- Shatabhisha Sun

Jimi Hendrix- Mula Rising

Amy Winehouse- Mula Moon

Kurt Cobain- Shatabhisha Sun, Ardra Moon,

Janis Joplin- Ardra Moon, Mula Mars, Asc conjunct Ketu (in Dhanishta)

Jim Morrison- Ketu conjunct Rising (in Shravana)

several other celebrities who have died from overdoses also tend to have prominent Nodal influence

John Belushi- Mula Rising

Phillip Seymour Hoffman- Mercury in Ardra 2h, Mars conjunct Ketu in Swati

Prince- Shatabhisha Moon, Ketu in Ashwini

Whitney Houston- Shatabhisha Rising

River Phoenix- Magha Sun conjunct Ketu, Swati Ascendant conjunct Jupiter

Elvis Presley- Shatabhisha Moon

Margaux Hemingway- Ashwini Rising

Nodal planets are shadow planets and it can be very difficult for these natives to manage this energy as it is energy without a source, Rahu & Ketu don't have physical form or existence, that is a lot of uncontrolled energy to possess within yourself. Many people turn to spirituality and other esoteric sources and good Rahu & Ketu influence is vital and necessary to study or gain access to gnosis, study astrology or other occult matters but when this energy is imbalanced in their chart, these natives are more prone to self-destruction than any other planetary dominance simply because the unbridled energy is impossible to contain and requires some kind of coping mechanism. I have dated several Nodal men and they all dealt with varying degrees of addiction to varying substances and they all spoke about "wanting to feel more real" or how "nothing feels solid". I will try to focus on the positive manifestations of the Nodes on a future post.

thanks for reading<333

#astrology notes #astrology observations #vedic astro notes #nakshatras #astrology #astroblr #astro notes #astro observations #vedic astrology #sidereal astrology #jyotish #rahu #ketu #ashwini #shatabhisha #mula #magha #swati #ardra

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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago

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A Second Chance pt.4 {Blurb}

Poly!Marauders+Lily x Fem!Reader - Zombie Apocalypse Au

Summary: Avoiding spoilers

Cw; Guns, death, zombie apoc typical violence)

a/n- I restarted this three times

Wc-2464

Amazing People- @mooonyxoxo @sippinpeachtea @amethyistheart @zjasminelouvre3 @idonotknowenglish @le-clair-de-lune @shylahstarzz @losttoliterature

Masterlist

The path to the stream was familiar, each step resonating with memories of your own journeys back and forth. The subtle breeze welcomed you back as you tried to alcamate to your new normal. The wind smelt fresh, like weeds and wet rocks, the song birds were singing despite how late it was, and you could hear the sounds of creatures around you simply living. It had been a while since you considered yourself, and other survivors for that matter, on the same level as the common rat and squirrels.

Yet, the presence of Sirius didn't bring you the same comforts as the common chipmunk. The forest, usually a haven of tranquility, felt different today, alive with an undercurrent of tension. It didn't help that you still felt the hair on your neck rise with discomfort. Still unable to shake the feeling that there was more than just Sirius’s eyes on you.

Sirius, despite your warnings and slight nagging, stayed casual, his eyes wandering the surroundings with a curious hum that shouldn't have been annoying as it was. He seemed less affected by the pressing silence and more intent on making conversation.

"So, {Y/N}." Sirius began, trying to cut through the heavy quiet. "How long did you say you've been out here alone?"

You sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of the question. Sirius's voice, though casual, seemed to echo in the stillness of the forest. You wished you could just ignore him. You wanted to.

After what happened to Peter you didn't have time to stop and think about how unfair it was for you to blame him solely for it; so you stayed high strung. You just wanted to make it back to Hermione.

Everything within the last 24 hours was too much and in truth, you just wanted a break. So the conversation wasn't horrible.

"About a month since my camp was attacked.” You mumbled, keeping your tone even. You didn't want to delve too deeply into the memories of that night, but it was impossible to ignore the shadow it cast over you. Your heart ached helplessly at the memory of some of their faces. Seeing flashes of Regulus’s bloodied face would haunt you for days.

"That's rough." Sirius responded, his voice softer this time. He seemed to recognize the tone you were taking. “Listen-”

“I don't need your apologies.” You quickly cut him off and he scoffed a bit.

“Just listen.” He rubbed his face with both hands before he pulled his hair back. “I didn't truly know what was going to happen. If I did, I would of said something, I swear it.”

“Nothing you can do about it now.” You dismissed him quickly and he huffed in disbelief.

“We are in the same boat. We are the same.” He challenged and that's when you stopped, looking around you as that feeling you got at the front of the house only worsened. No longer just paranoia, true fear rocked through you.

“Sirius, stop talking.” You hissed at him and he shook his head.

“No! I get it, I fucked up. But we are the same. We would both do anything to protect our people, I can see that in you. I think you can tell you're a hell of a lot like me too.” He insisted and you continued to shush him.

Your head snapping around to look behind Sirius when you heard a twig snap behind him. Not a normal one, like one you'd soon hear scurrying after as a rodent scared itself. No. It was something else.

“What?” Sirius huffed before he turned to look.

Everything happened in a matter of seconds. You felt a metal rod against your throat. It was a gun. A gun someone was using to force you back against them, threatening to choke you if you squirmed too much.

You looked up and watched as another person shot out from behind you.

“Sirius!”

And like that, the figure hit him hard with the butt of his gun, making him fall to the ground.

“Fuck! {Y/N}!”

The forest seemed to close in around you as the situation escalated, the once familiar path now a stage for a dangerous confrontation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and every instinct screamed for you to fight back, but the cold metal against your throat held you in place, a chilling reminder of the peril you were in. You didn't notice how the figures seemed to tense up at your name. Like they knew who you were.

Sirius lay on the ground, dazed but conscious. He groaned, trying to shake off the blow, but the figure who had hit him stood menacingly over him, gun still drawn.

"Don't move.” The voice behind you commanded, harsh and rather loud in your ear. Instead of listening to reason, you began to squirm, the gun tightening on your neck. It was a man’s voice, edged with authority and a hint of desperation. You could feel his breath on your neck, the tension in his grip. You had been in this position before, you absolutely hated it. “Knock it off!” The voice snapped at you, tightening the gun just enough to earn a desperate gasp from you. "We don't want to hurt you, but we will if we have to."

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "What do you want from us?"

“Us?” He chuckled. “Just you and that other lady back at the house is all. And your kids.” He chuckled and your face paled. Glancing down you felt your stomach turn helplessly, they had the mark of a death eater.

By the time you noticed Sirius seemed to as well, trying to get to his feet, only to be kicked back down by the other figure.

The Death Eaters, in their twisted minds, sought out 'religious renewal.’

One of those things they preached about was sanctuary for women.

No one was stupid enough to truly believe that they had their best interests at heart, certainly not you. Especially when they started hosting public ‘purity unions’ for anyone brave enough to travel to their base.

Again, a trick you hadn't fallen for. The simple idea that you were able to avoid them this long and was about to be dragged there now of all times was terrifying.

Your mind raced, desperate for a way out. The weight of the gun and the cold threat in the man's voice made it clear that any rash movement could be your last. But the mention of Hermione and the others ignited a fierce determination within you. That meant they knew where the house was. They had been watching. They waited until you and Sirius were gone. You couldn't let them fall into the hands of these monsters.

Sirius, despite being kicked down, managed to lock eyes with you. There was a silent understanding between you two. You had to act, and you had to act now.

"Listen.” You pleaded, swallowing thick, trying to buy some time. "We don’t want trouble. We’re just trying to survive. Just like you."

"Talk?" The man behind you spat, his breath hot against your neck. You wanted to hurl. "There's nothing to talk about. You’re coming with us, and that's final."

Sirius, now on his knees, glanced at you, licking the blood from his lip. You could see the gears turning in his head, formulating a plan. You just needed to give him a bit more time.

Time. You could buy him time. You prayed to god he was trustworthy enough for this.

"Please.” You whispered, your voice desperate. "We have supplies. Medicines. Food. We can share it with you. But if you take us by force, you’ll get nothing because the rest of our group will hide or destroy it."

The man only laughed at you, something that filled you with dread. You didn't have many bargaining chips to begin with. It was a slim window, but it was all you needed. "Is that so?" He taunted, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

“Good thing we have some people there already, yeah?” He breathed heavy on your neck and as if to punctuate his statement you heard a gunshot coming from the farm house.

You gave a sob, choked up and quite as you began to hear babies crying. Faint, desperate, and so fucking far away. The men laughed at you, the one over Sirius raising his gun to Sirius’s head.

Sirius took the opportunity. With a sudden burst of movement, he lunged forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun aimed at him and twisting it with all his strength. The attacker, caught off guard, stumbled, giving Sirius the opening he needed. He delivered a swift kick to the man's knee, causing him to collapse in pain.

Taking advantage of the chaos, you threw your head back hard, connecting with the face of the man holding you. He grunted in pain, loosening his grip just enough for you to twist out of his hold. You dropped to the ground, rolling away as he swung the butt of his gun at where your head had been moments before.

"Run!" Sirius shouted, his voice raw with urgency. He managed to wrench the gun from his attacker, firing a wild shot into the air. The deafening crack echoed through the forest, startling birds into flight and momentarily disorienting the Death Eaters.

You didn't need to be told twice. Pushing off the ground, you scrambled to your feet and took off running, your heart pounding in your ears. You could hear Sirius struggling behind you, but you couldn't think about that. Your first priority had to be Hermione and little Harry.

The forest blurred around you as you sprinted, branches whipping at your face and arms. Your mind raced with frantic thoughts, but you forced yourself to focus on the path ahead. You had to get to the farmhouse, had to make sure everyone was okay.

When you made it there the door was wide open, and there was a dead body in the grass. You slowed to a stop, giving a shaky sigh of relief when you didn't recognize the figure.

You looked him over and cursed when you didn't see a gun, but the pleading from inside hit your ears hard.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lay ahead.

Creeping closer, you tried to make as little noise as possible. The pleading voices grew clearer, more desperate, and you could hear Hermione's little cries among them. Your heart clenched with both fear and determination.

Peering through a broken window, you saw a scene that made your blood run cold. Two Death Eaters stood inside, their guns drawn, while Lily clutched little Harry and Hermione protectively. The children were huddled in her arms, their faces bright red with tears and snot.

James stood between them, and Remus was sitting on the seat you had left him in, unable to move with a gun to the back of his neck. You could barely make out James pleading.

You took another deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm despite the terror gripping you. Your mind raced, trying to formulate a plan. You needed a distraction, something to draw their attention away just long enough to give them a chance.

Your eyes scanned the room through the broken window, taking in every detail. James was trying to reason with the Death Eaters, his voice steady despite the tension. He didn't seem to just back down and roll over like he did with you.

Remus, though immobilized, seemed to be quietly assessing the situation, his eyes flickering between the intruders and the small clan. Then, his eyes flickered to the window. Both of your eyes locked in a second, yet he remained calm and simply averted his gaze.

Remus never failed to impress you.

You took another deep breath, feeling a surge of resolve. His calm reaction gave you the reassurance that he trusted you to act. You couldn't let them down.

Your eyes darted around, finally resting on the pile of firewood. If you could create a loud enough distraction, it might give James and Remus the opening they needed. You picked up a handful of small rocks from the ground, weighing them in your hand. This had to work.

With a steadying breath, you hurled the rocks at the pile of firewood through the broken window. The clattering noise was loud and sudden, echoing through the farmhouse. The Death Eaters whipped around, guns raised, their attention momentarily diverted.

James took the opportunity, lunging forward to tackle one of the Death Eaters, and you rushed the back door to come help.

Only, you rushed in to watch Remus, moving with calm and swift determination, stand and snag the gun from the stunned intruder. In the same motion, put a bullet through his head. Without flinching, he then turned and fired at James’s tussle buddy with that same overwhelming calm.

You stopped dead in your tracks, the back door creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The scene made you take a full pause, you had always assumed Remus was the softest of them all but his actions were precise, calculated. Like he had done them a million times before. The Death Eater's body slumped to the ground, and James quickly disarmed the other, pinning him down.

The sudden silence was deafening, punctuated only by the ragged breathing of everyone in the room. Hermione and Harry were still crying, clinging and shaking as Lily clutched them tightly, their faces bright red and distressed. James stood over the fallen Death Eater, his chest heaving with exertion.

Remus, still holding the gun, looked up at you with a grim expression. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice steady despite the tension.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "We need to get out of here.”

“Damn right.” James hissed and stood, turning to face you before furrowing his brow. “Where's Sirius?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind you. You turned to see Sirius emerging from the trees, disheveled but alive. Relief washed over you as he jogged up, his eyes scanning the scene inside the farmhouse.

"I'm here," Sirius said, slightly out of breath. "But we need to move, now. More of them could be on the way."

James nodded, looking at the rest of the group. "Right, we can't stay here any longer. Grab whatever you can carry. We need to find a safer place."

Lily, still holding onto Harry and Hermione, stood up, her face set with determination. "We need to get the children to safety first. Then we can figure out our next move."

Remus, still holding the gun, moved to help gather things, before you finally managed to croak out.

“Car. I have a car. It's shitty, probably can only take us a few miles but-”

"That'll have to do." Sirius interrupted, his voice steady despite the chaos. "We just need to get out of here. We can worry about the rest later."

The second you were all finished packing you left. Didn't take longer than ten minutes.

You turned quickly, leading the way through the back door and out into the cold air. The forest felt different now, less like the home you made of it and more like a looming threat. The shadows seemed to stretch toward you, and the distant sound of rustling leaves began to sound like whispers of danger, warning you of the trouble that might still be lurking just beyond the trees. Still, you suppressed your emotions. The growing fear at knowing you had been being watched, the feeling of the gun to your neck, the feel of his foul breath on your skin-

“{Y/N}?” Lily’s voice called out to you, almost grounding you to the moment. You gave a small steady breath, smiling and reaching out for Hermione.

Lily gave you a worried look before you took her and looked down at the girl in your arms. She had cried herself to sleep, her little body curled against you, her face streaked with tears. You gently brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, wishing you could wipe away all the fear and confusion swirling in this world around you.

“We’ll get through this.” You whispered softly, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to comfort her or yourself. Your heart was racing, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but you forced yourself to focus.

Sirius, James, and Remus were already moving ahead, keeping an eye on the surroundings. You could see the tension in their shoulders, the way they scanned the trees as if expecting danger to pop out again. Lily moved that much closer to you, but you all stayed silent.

“Over here.” You called to the boys as you guys made it to the barn that was hardly standing. You gestured to it and Sirius walked over to open the swinging doors, grimacing at the rusty old bucket of a truck.

“Is it quiet?” He turned to you and you scoffed.

“Not at all. But it's fast as hell.” You confirmed before you walked over. James opened the back seat and helped Remus into it. He then lifted Lily up with Harry next, turning to you. He held out his hand and you hesitated for a moment.

Turning to Sirius and noticing his cut lip was still bleeding, he had a bad bruise forming on his head and a few scratches from the tussle.

James looked between you two before he tilted his head to the passenger seat before he got in the back. You took a deep breath and climbed into the car, still securing Hermione as you shifted your weapons to the side. Opening the dash to toss Sirius the keys.

“Are we ready?” He looked back at the group, the back seat particularly squished with everything- and everyone.

There was a thick silence before Sirius huffed. “Let's get the fuck out of here.”

~~~

Back in the once still forest you left behind, none of you were aware of a shadow slothing his way through the tree line.

One of the men Sirius had managed to get down wasn't quite dead yet. After fighting off the zombified version of his partner, he watched you and the rest of the group drive off.

In a car that looked painfully familiar.

The walk home for him was hell, his wounds were still fresh and bleeding, each step sending waves of pain through his body. He gritted his teeth against the agony, his mind racing with thoughts of vengeance and the need for retribution.

The memories of the skirmish replayed vividly in his mind- Sirius’s sudden burst of movement, the way you had fought back with a ferocity that surprised him. He had underestimated you, and that was a mistake he wouldn't repeat. But at least he could come back with something. Having found the elusive {Y/N}.

When he finally made it back to the mansion, the sun had rose behind him. Stumbling in, half bloodied and bordering on unconscious.

He pushed through the heavy door, the creaking wood protesting against his weight. The moment he stepped inside, the air shifted, the atmosphere thick with tension and the lingering scent of fear. It was a stark contrast to the familiar, almost cozy feel of the mansion he had once known. His old home.

“Where the hell have you been?” A voice barked from the shadows. It was Lucius Malfoy, leaning casually against a wall, his eyes narrowing as he took in the state of the man before him. “Father Tom isn't happy. You’re supposed to report back! What happened out there?”

Avery winced, clutching his side where a deep gash throbbed, blood seeping through his fingers. “We... we encountered them. They were not alone.” He forced out, each word a struggle. “That girl at the barn down the road. She had a group with her.”

Lucius's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing further as he processed the information. "A girl? With a group? This is unacceptable, Avery. You let them escape? You know what Father Tom will do if he finds out about this."

Avery struggled to hold himself upright, the pain coursing through his body threatening to overwhelm him. "I... I tried to capture them. But they fought back- hard. Sirius Black was there, and he wasn't alone. They’ve become more organized, more dangerous. He was with that James Potter and his goons.”

Lucius took a step closer, his condescending demeanor shifting to one of intense interest. “Sirius Black? So, the traitor has resurfaced. And you say this girl, this survivor, is connected to him?” He paused, a calculating look crossing his face. “What if she’s more than just another survivor?”

Before Avery could respond, a third figure emerged from the shadows- a tall man with dark hair and sharp features that seemed to cut through the dim light of the mansion.

It was Barty Crouch Jr., a (now) high-ranking member of the Death Eaters, his presence commanding and terrifying, considering all he's already done for the organization. He stepped forward, a smirk playing on his lips as he assessed Avery’s battered state.

“Sounds like the perfect gift for Tom, doesn't it? After such a momentous mistake. Oh Avery, run in with a bunch of kids? You get sadder every time I see you.” He taunted, crossing his arms. “Did you really think you could take on Black and a bunch of survivors? How cute.” His smirk quickly turned deadly, relishing in the familiar deranged anger they had grown to know from him. “Where is he?”

Avery winced at Barty's taunt, his frustration boiling beneath the surface. “I'm sure you heard as you were eavesdropping, Crouch.” He snapped, “We were caught off guard. Black put a fucking bullet in me and that damn girl broke my nose, least you could do is go fetch Narcissa.”

Barty raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You’re wounded and still trying to bark orders? I’d be careful with that tone, Avery. You’re lucky to be alive after failing so spectacularly." He leaned against the staircase, smirking at Lucius. “You heard the boy. Go fetch your wife. Though, if it were me, I'd let the bastard bleed. I bet it will feel wonderful compared to what Tom will do to him.”

“That wasn't all.” Avery finally piped up as he leaned back against the marble wall, looking up at the ceiling as he panted. “I got her name.”

Lucius's interest piqued as he leaned closer, curiosity mingling with irritation. “What do you mean you got her name? Who is she?”

Avery took a moment to catch his breath, the pain in his side sharpening with every second. “She’s {Y/N}. The girl from the camp. She had the truck we left behind, it's her. I'm certain of it.”

Barty’s expression suddenly darkened and his face fell hard. “What?” He whispered.

Lucius gave a weak scoff. “You may have just saved your own ass with that, Avery.”

As the atmosphere in the room thickened with tension, the heavy door creaked open from down the hall.

First out was Narcissa, who gawked at the boys in front of her before hurrying over to help Avery. “What are you guys doing? He's bleeding.” She spoke in a firm tone.

Behinder her, there was the soft sound of a baby’s cry and Evan Rosier stepped into the light, followed closely by Regulus Black. Regulus holding up a little blonde kid on his hip.

Evan's demeanor was lax, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of a threat, while Regulus’s face bore a grimace of pain, a bandage wrapped around his head where a nasty gash marred his brow. Still, the kid seemed unbothered by his angry expression. Evan had to charge himself forward to stop Barty from taking down the bleeding bastard.

“You better not of fucking touched her!” Barty shouted as he tried to jump past Evan who eventually had to tackle him against the wall. Holding his shoulders and looking at Barty with a hard look.

“The hell mate!? What's gotten into you!?” Evan shouted and Barty was panting, glaring at Avery.

“Bastard attacked {Y/N}! Got that fucking shiner to prove it!” He shouted and Avery huffed.

“I did my job!” Avery snapped back.

Regulus took a step forward, his eyes wide with shock as he absorbed the situation. His face switched from his hard scowl to soft and almost vulnerable at your name. “Wait, wait. {Y/N}? Our {Y/N}?” His voice wavered slightly, and there was an urgency in his tone that caught everyone’s attention.

Avery's eyes narrowed, irritation flickering on his face. “Yes. That’s what I’ve been saying. She was with Sirius Black and they’ve formed some sort of group. She fought back, fucked me up, but she's alive.”

Regulus’s expression darkened, a mix of concern and anger. She was with his brother? His brother was still alive? That meant the Order could get back together.

But mostly, that meant you were okay. The men he sent out looking, the days he was losing hope, you were out there. “But she was here? Down the street the whole time?”

“What the fuck have you idiots been doing? We send you to get one girl and you come back empty handed and four men down!” Barty snapped at them from where Evan had him pinned.

“An entire month and she was right there.” Regulus snapped as Narcissa led Avery to the back room as he began to stumble, the adrenaline wearing off.

The three watched Avery retreat to the back room, Lucius gathering Draco up as he passed Regulus.

The three boys exchanged looks between each other. There was a long silence before Evan finally let go of Barty.

“I'll kill him.” Barty mumbled and Evan gave him a toothy smirk.

“Leave it. She's alive mate.”

“Alive and with Black.” Barty snapped and rubbed his face. “Who's to say what's going on? What's happening?”

“We'll find her.” Regulus affirmed. The two looked at the shorter boy who was staring at the door.

“We’ll just send someone more competent.” He mumbled and both boys turned to look at Even.

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yannaryartside · 17 days ago

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A brief essay of Sydcarmy breaking the old curses in Carmy’s life

There is something so beautiful about Carmy falling for someone that is such a honest person (sometimes even to her own detriment) as Syd is.

Carmy grow up being gaslighted by his abusive mother and his emotionally absent brother (that despite everything is probably the closest thing Carmy actually had to a parent). Even really important things like why his father left of what is the source of income of the family are trapped on in mistery. The stories Michael repeated to serve (what he thought) was his function as the glue of the family (that were all some bullshit), failing to be up front about his addiction and asking for help. The toxicity, the pain, the problems. Nothing is ever addressed or called for what it really is. Avoidance was the way to cope. Lying to themselves was the way to cope.

You can see this still affects Carmy, how he jumps every time someone seems to give him passive aggressive hints (and it’s something that is happening, even Nat does it regularly). He seems to be very vigilant as a kid of what he could do to upset people (also because people around him were not honest about the actual issues, so he thought every time mommy was angry it had to be something about him) and that’s probably why he was so shy.

And then there is Syd, she was just so earnest and transparent even if the beef was not the ambience that supports or celebrates people like that. They still reject Pete, which is kinda the extreme of this concept. I think they even hightailed it by making Pete a lawyer (yk the representation of black and white the law should be).

This family tends to swipe things under the rug until there is an explosion.

(This is not me blaming them for Michael’s death, but his depression and addiction were festered in that house, in those dynamics)

That scene in fishes when he tried to convey to Michael that he felt ignored and abandoned by him and Michael just dismissed it? Carmy really doesn’t seem to be able to distinguish honesty from fakeness, maybe because he desperately wants it to be true.

This is also the reason why I think he hadn’t picked up on some of Claire’s toxic tactics where they were getting to know each other “you own me” “say that again” “I will let the Faks to beat you up”. I think Claire is putting a nice girl facade and he is eating it up (so is everyone else).

His anxiety on the other hand may be his instincts ticking up. If she is so much peace, why his anxiety seems to be around (and even created) in their most intimate moments (he remembering their love making scene, and when they were talking about traumatic experiences and Claire admitted to malpractice)?

This man really doesn’t have much self assurance or boundaries. I imagine he developed the anger outbursts despite himself as a way to defend himself (and mirroring the behaviors around him)

And then there is Syd, she says out loud what she wants or needs even if the environment around her may challenge her. She has not lied to Carmy or assumed anything of him even when at this point she had every reason to do so. She could have given up on him since s2, stop communicating all together and being passive aggressive as the rest of the crew in s3,

Idk, I even wonder if the reason he doesn’t admit he has feelings for her is because what he is feeling cannot be love, because, for him, love is supposed to be half good half bad, that you have to give parts of your dignity to be loved, that your loved ones may manipulate you or lie to you “because they love you so much”

But of course, Syd is not like that.

The scene of them in the back of the restaurant is so special for me because of this. They talked. They were honest. They made compromises and amendments. I don’t think he had much of this growing up

“I love you” was love but a knife at the same time, because it was used to paint over wounds that were still fresh, without ever addressing the issue that were causing it.

And I know in s3 Syd is at fault too, she really cannot stand in front of Carmy and put a stop on the madness yet and I wonder what may give her the courage to do so. While carmy was frozen, it felt like Syd was paddling desperately in dark waters and managing to sink deeper the more she fight it.

This was kinda the most intriguing element of Syd’s character for me recently, how she is super aware of what she wants and how she feels but seems equally incapable of going against whatever flow she is trapped in. She could have seen Sheridan Road was not stable. But she ran into it full speed until it burned. She could have left the beef at one sight of the toxicity. She had reasons to leave every season.

In that sense she also mirrors Carmy. The difference between these two is that carmy keeps doing the same thing hoping for a different result because he thinks the toxic way is the only way (of being a chef, to be the best). He sees toxic as good/professional/justifiable, even only subconsciously. While Syd is capable of seeing the toxicity for what it is. She knows what to do to fix it. Is lot like she id afraid to implement change it, that’s why she got here in the first place.

Idk what it is that terrifies her so much. Maybe she is subconsciously is afraid of her own truths? Maybe she is afraid of the person she will be in the other side of this equation. Is there something that happened in the past (maybe her mother’s death) that left her feeling like a broken doll, an incomplete equation, afraid of her own voice? Maybe she (subconsciously) doesn’t want to go full intent into the right direction just so she doesn’t have to find out if she really has what it takes to do this?

Whatever it is, if she is the one that can see the toxicity and react to it, (because everyone else is still trapped in it) then I believe Syd completing her arc could be the catalyst for all the other elements of the story to fall in order, for better or worse.

#my ramblings #I love how this show breaks my brain #sydcarmy #the bear #sydney adamu #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear meta #carmy x sydney #carmy the bear #sydney x carmy

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faerygrant · 9 months ago

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Ultraviolence - Carmy x Reader

Summary : An interaction between Claire and Carmen leaves you questioning his loyalty to your relationship.

Carmy was a complicated man, that went without saying. He was a man riddled with untreated trauma that stemmed from an absent father and an alcoholic and unstable mother. Not to mention the complicated and for a very long time, codependent relationship between he and his brother. The only constant and non-toxic person Carmen Berzatto had in his life was his sister Natalie, well that was before he met you at-least.

While he had become a changed man and confronted his demons from the past, there was no denying that Carmen still had lots of issues he still hadn’t addressed in therapy. The sleep walking had stopped almost a year ago, which you were thankful for, especially after a night in which he accidentally woke up and nearly lit the house aflame. The anger issues however still persisted, as well as the avoidant personality and constant feelings of angst.

You could tell Carmen was happier, he now kissed you goodbye in the mornings and goodnight before bed, he smiled more, he cooled off on the self deprecating remarks and most of all, he let you in. The old Carmen was hard as rock, made of brick wall, refusing to allowing anyone into those walls he’d spent all those years building up in self defence. Yet now he was willing to talk things through, slowly but surely.

Like most winter nights when the city got dark by 5, you’d walk over to the bear from work so Carmy could drive the two of you back to your place. It made the both of you feel safer and you weren’t opposed to any extra time you could spend with you partner. It also didn’t hurt to see his coworkers, who you’d come to see as friends of your own.

Tonight however when you’d come into the restaurant it seemed the only people here were Natalie and Sydney who were out back doing stock count. They both greeted you, however their odd attitudes weren’t lost on you. The two of them were usually so happy to see you, friendly. Yet upon your entry into the restaurant they had both gone frigid.

“Where’s Carm?” You’d asked, pulling the slipping straps of your tote back onto your shoulder.

“T-the office.” Sydney motions awkwardly to the office and your brows furrow. Why were they both acting so off?

“You probably should wait-“ Natalie tries to say but you’re already bursting into the office, curious as to why they were being strange.

“You know I just missed you Bear.”

You’re not prepared for the site of what you walk into, Carmy’s “ex” who’s not his “ex” but is his “ex” stood with her arms wrapped around his neck trying to kiss him. Your heart all but sinks into your ass as you watch her lips meet his.

“What the fuck” you scream, and immediately the brunette is clambering away from your man. She innocently tucks a piece of hair behind her ears and then looks at Carmen before she pushed past you. Not even an ounce of guilt on her face.

“It’s not what it looked like, I promise.” Carmen says walking over to you, trying to grab hold of your hand.

“Then what the fuck was that, she kissed you Carmen!” You yell at him and both Sydney and Natalie are now stood in the doorway watching everything go down.

“It was nothing, she just…” He holds his hands in his hair as he paces back and forth between the office. Refusing to complete his sentence.

“Are you going to finish the sentence Carmen, man up and tell me why the fuck your ex girlfriend was in here just now, kissing you” Your shouting has Carmen exasperated, he wants to tell you but can’t even figure out how to start the conversation.

“Carmy just talk to her.” Natalie tries intervening but is met with Carmen throwing a staple gun against the wall.

“Sugar get the fuck out of here and give us some privacy”

“Carm!” You yell at him all at once Sydney screams “Carmy what the fuck” Both of you appalled at his childish display of violence.

“Can I have five fuckin minutes alone with my girl now?” They both roll their eyes and walk out of the office. “Asshole” Natalie mumbles before slamming the office door shut.

“So she calls you Bear, is there something you’re hiding?” You question as you walk closer to him, tears falling from your eyes.

“No baby, she just came here trynna sweet talk me about all this fuckin shut but I didn’t wanna hear it.” He tries taking you into his arms but you push him away, not fully ready to give into him.

“Don’t fuckin pull away from me baby, you know it drives me insane” he sighs defeatedly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Carmen just tell me why that girl was here, why she was kissing you.” The head from his head against yours somewhat calms you down, so does his smell and gentle touch.

“I told you, she wanted to talk and because of all that shit Dr. Murphy said in therapy about confronting your past not running from it, I thought I’d give her a chance to say her piece but she just took it as a chance to make a move.” He looks into your eyes, searching, no- hoping you’d believe him, he hated the feeling of losing your trust especially when he’d never lie to you.

“I just hated seeing that, her hands all over you and her mouth on yours, it hurt me Carm.” You finally allow yourself to fully give into his touch and he pressed a kiss to your lips, your manicured hand cupping his face, relishing in it.

“I know and I’m sorry, I only want you okay, you’re the only girl for me.” He whispers, causing you to whimper.

“Promise?”

“Hand on the fucking bible, I promise”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #the bear fic #reader x carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic

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oizysian · 4 months ago

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XII. THEN WE’LL TALK

Word count: 1.3k

All Eyes on Me masterlist

•

Y/N, Lizzie called me crying. You need to talk to her.

It's been two weeks. You haven't streamed, you haven't gone out. What have you been doing?

I let out a deep sigh, rolling the blunt between my fingers, Brie's voice echoing in my head. Lizzie missed me. She needed me, but I was a coward and only knew how to run from people when things got complicated.

I sniffled, swallowing roughly as I thought about the woman I had walked away from completely for her own good. Without me in her life she could be happy with her husband without the fear and doubt of an affair hanging over their heads. Maybe she hadn't done anything wrong, but she could've. I definitely would've given the chance, but I would have regretted it. Just like I regretted everything I did.

I slammed my hand down on the cold tile in frustration and leaned my head against the sink, my mind racing as it had been for two whole weeks. The weed helped silence it for a while, but the more I replayed Brie's messages in my head, the louder my thoughts got about Lizzie.

Had I been wrong to walk away? We didn't do anything wrong. Not really.

I picked my phone up off the floor and unlocked it, browsing Twitter to get my mind off of literally everything.

CELEBRITY SIGHTING:

Elizabeth Olsen and Robbie Arnett were seen out and about in LA this week.

She looked good in the picture; happy, healthy, but then again, she was a good actress. They probably went out together on purpose considering it had been a while since they had been out in public with each other. Her last two sets of paparazzi photos were with me.

I licked my dry lips, quickly tweeting out that I was sorry for disappearing, but I was fine and streams would start up again soon. Almost instantly, comments flooded in wishing me well and hoping that everything was okay. I couldn't reply to everyone, so I just liked the kind comments and ignored the ones that were rude or mentioned Lizzie. Nobody needed to know my fucking business. I was still a person, I deserved my privacy despite what the world thought. And so did she.

The last two weeks had been hell between ignoring Lizzie's calls and texts and dealing with Brie and Claire trying to talk some sense into me. I knew they were right, that it was just gossip and Robbie would get over it, but the risk of her marriage ending because I had feelings for her was too much for me to ignore. Maybe she liked me too, or maybe she was just a flirty person - who knew, but what I did know was that I wasn't going to be the reason her marriage ended.

But, their marriage hadn't ended. According to Twitter, they were a happy couple and nothing was wrong between them. Which was good! So, why wasn't I happy about it?

At the moment, I wasn't happy about fucking anything. The only thing that could make me happy was Lizzie, and I let her go.

I brought the blunt up to my lips and inhaled deeply, wanting nothing more than to just forget for a little while. I kept the smoke in my mouth for a moment before exhaling.

Why was I making such a big deal about this? She barely knew me. I barely knew her. It was for the best that I ended our friendship before it became something more.

My phone rang, nearly making me jump out of my skin, and I peeked to check who it was. Brie. I took another toke and answered.

"Hello?" I said, my voice straining from holding in the smoke.

"Y/N? What the hell are you doing?"

"Smoking. Why?"

"Why aren't you speaking to Lizzie? Ignoring her like this isn't going to help the situation any."

"I'm making it go away."

"No, you're making yourself look like a child."

"Whatever, Brie." I released the smoke from my mouth. "What do you care anyway?"

"Oh, so on top of being a child, you're also gonna act like a bitch?"

"Oh, fuck you, man."

"Fuck me? After everything I've gone through trying to help you get the girl, you're gonna say 'fuck me'?"

"I didn't ask for any of this!"

"No, you didn't, but it all happened and you're in it now, so put on your big girl panties and deal with it."

"I don't want to. I don't want Elizabeth."

I lied.

"Then what do you want Y/N?" She asked with frustration in her voice.

"You."

She was quiet on the line and I knew I fucked up. I grimaced, leaning my face against my propped up knees. Why did I have to open my mouth and say stupid shit?

"You don't mean that." She sounded sad. "You're just hurting."

"I can be friends with Lizzie again if I'm with you." Why was I still speaking? "If Robbie sees I'm with someone, he'll leave her alone about her having an affair."

"Are you trying to use me to get back in Lizzie's good graces?"

"No! I-I'm just trying to fix this and make everyone happy."

"You being with me out of pity or ... whatever this is, will not make anyone happy."

"It's not pity, Brie. I like you."

"You like me. You love her."

"I love the idea of her! I don't know her and she doesn't know me! I know you. I know we can make each other happy. Please, Brie."

"We'll talk about this when you're sober."

"No, I want to talk about it now."

"Talk to Lizzie. Make up with her."

"If I do that, then will you be my girlfriend?"

"No."

"No?" Tears welled up in my eyes. First Lizzie, now Brie.

"You don't mean it. Prove that you mean it and I might change my mind. Until then, no."

It was wrong for me to use Brie to get over Lizzie, but it was true, I did like her ... just not the same way I liked Lizzie. I knew this was the only way I would be able to get close to Lizzie again. I had to be with someone, prove that I'm not a threat, stop acting the way I've been acting towards her. I needed someone.

"Go on a date with me. Let me give you a kiss goodnight. Let's watch the stars and pick one as ours. Let me treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

She didn't speak for a while and I thought for a moment that she had hung up on me.

"I'm not her."

I sighed.

"I know. I know who you are."

"I'll let you kiss me, but forget all that romantic shit."

"Okay, fine, no romance. Just us."

"So, you want to be friends with benefits?"

"No! No. I just ..." I rubbed my hand over my face. "I don't know what I want."

"That's the problem, Y/N. Make up with Lizzie. Then we'll talk."

"Brie -"

She hung up on me. I kicked the hamper in next to me in pure rage, knowing that I just fucked up another friendship. Either that, or Brie and I would be a different type of friend after this.

I put the joint out on my floor, smashing it into the tile and leaning my head into my hands, frustration seeping from every inch of my body.

Hot tears spilled from my eyes as I thought about Lizzie, as I thought about Brie, as I thought about the hole I kept digging for myself. Did I like Brie enough to be with her despite possibly having a connection with Lizzie?

The answer was ... yeah. I could be with Brie. Would I do it, though? Could I do it for Lizzie?

Was it fair to Brie? No, but we'd both get what we wanted. Wasn't that all that mattered?

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp @dorabledewdroop @scarlie-johalsen-blog @annie-ahmelia

#oizysian writes #elizabeth olsen x yn #elizabeth olsen story #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #brie larson x y/n #brie larson x female reader #brie larson x you #brie larson x reader

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undead-moth · 5 months ago

Text

I do think it's funny seeing Carmy /x reader prompts and fics with like, a very dominant sexually-competent Carmy lololol because to me Carmy is nothing if not someone who has visibly had very little sex in his life, with very few people, and has no idea why it's been so unfulfilling every time or why it makes him so uncomfortable -

Like, Something about the worst of his trauma being because one person hovered over his shoulder giving orders expecting an impossible standard, and insulting him incessantly for not being able to do the impossible and not being able to be perfect...Him saying in AI anon that he didn't have any girlfriends in high school which was then followed by years of extensive life-consuming culinary training...His awkwardness and uncertainty with Claire, and whether or not she was his girlfriend....Him having his panic attack as flashes of his intimate scene with Claire go through his head - and then it's thoughts of Sydney praising him that calms him down...not being able to handle the pressure of running the whole restaurant and giving everyone orders...him taking complete control of everything, even the menu this season, and him trying to control everything being a symptom of his trauma, and it being the most unhealthy coping mechanism for him...and even seeing him almost have another panic attack again until Sydney looks at him and says very firmly, "I need you to calm down. I'm not your fucking babysitter," and immediately, he's fine, lmao.

He is submissive and he has no idea because he's had so few opportunities to explore his sexuality or even find someone he's comfortable being vulnerable like that with.

Sydney could fix him with easy, immediately achievable directions, punishments of his choosing, and praise, is all I'm saying, lmao.

#the bear fx #carmy berzatto #sydcarmy #I'm not hating on x reader fans btw people can headcanon whatever they like

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scoobydoodean · 3 months ago

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i gotta wonder why castiel, in claire's body, seemed to be hesitating to heal jimmy in "the rapture" episode. like he was saying "time to go to your real home in heaven" when jimmy was bleeding to death from a bullet wound. at this point castiel was like. freshly lobotomized so he might've just been being more ruthless in an attempt to manipulate jimmy into allowing castiel back in. but i always am a bit confused and was wondering if you had any thoughts

I think this very much has to do with "heaven's persuasion" as Cas calls it at the time. 4.20 "The Rapture" starts with Cas having learned that heaven will intentionally start the apocalypse and kill millions of humans in the process. He is so horrified by this that he decides to rebel. He enters Dean's dreams, but says even Dean's dreams aren't a safe enough place for him to reveal the secrets he's harboring, so he sends Dean to meet him at another location, and when Sam and Dean arrive there, the whole place is torn to bits. Cas fought multiple angels tooth and nail to avoid capture so he could tell Dean the truth—that the angels were going to start the apocalypse and let them all die. However, he was captured before he could pass on his knowledge and then he was brainwashed back into compliance with heaven's orders.

One of the things I think it's clear the higher ups told Castiel as part of the brainwashing process is that humans dying just means they go to heaven and live forever in peace where they are better off than on earth, so why even fight the apocalypse? Silly Castiel! There's no reason to fret! Humans dying is a good thing! It's a mercy killing! So when Cas returns at the end of 4.20, he is operating under this new worldview and the results are chilling.

CASTIEL Of course we keep our promises. Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. Your work is done. It's time to go home now. Your real home. You'll rest forever in the fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy. JIMMY No. Claire? CASTIEL She's with me now. She's chosen. It's in her blood, as it was in yours. JIMMY Please, Castiel. Me, just take me. Take me, please. CASTIEL I wanna make sure you understand. You won't die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred, a thousand more like it. JIMMY It doesn't matter. You take me. Just take me. CASTIEL As you wish.

Cas acknowledges the suffering he's put Jimmy through and in his own way, is trying to show compassion in this moment, but his thought process is absolutely alien. He sees the compassionate choice toward his vessel as 1) letting him die instead of healing him (drink the Kool-Aid type shit) 2) possessing his little girl to "spare" him the suffering of possession. He doesn't really seem to understand why Jimmy would beg to be possessed again instead Claire. He's completely lost perspective on human connection to the point he can't grasp a parent putting their own child's well-being above their own no matter the personal cost. This is another function of heavenly brainwashing/the cult mentality. The angels have a hierarchy in which everything is (allegedly) for their father and they sacrifice for him, not the other way around. They, in turn, intend to slaughter humans in droves for their own peace because they see humans as beneath them in the hierarchy. Cas has been re-programmed to believe this is how things should be, so he absolutely cannot understand in that moment why possessing Claire instead of Jimmy is an absolutely horrifying proposition to her father and not a form of mercy in Jimmy's eyes at all. It doesn't compute with brainwashed!Cas's understanding of hierarchy.

We see Cas's brainwashing in regards to death and ascension into heaven as the ultimate mercy again—two episodes later in 4.22:

DEAN You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam.

Note that Cas clearly didn't feel this way before he got "sent back to Bible camp". He fought violently to reach Dean and tell him the truth before he was captured.

#mail #castiels motivations #heaven as a cult #jimmy #claire #castiels moral compass #4.20 #4.22

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etherealising · 9 months ago

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idk how request, I hope you understand ^^

could you do one about michael and baby having their cute moments but carmy misunderstanding everything?

english is not my first language, sorry 😭😭

in the arms of another

a/n: bestie i promise your english is just fine please don’t apologize. also i’m sending you all the internet kisses for this request because i’ve missed writing baby x mikey content so much!!! maybe not as cute as you may have wanted but i still hope you enjoy! 🫶🏽

wc: 4.3k (what can i say, i missed them)

You lost Carmy in the crowd mere moments after collecting your diploma, part of you couldn’t seem to care considering how rocky things became between the two of you but you were also a bit overwhelmed with the amount of your classmates who kept stopping to share in the success that was graduating high school.

Most of the people you stopped to take pictures with had rarely ever spoken to you during the 4 years you shared, considering the occasion you hadn’t minded the first couple of pictures you stopped for, but now you were ready to find your mom and the Berzattos and leave.

It was a few moments more before you heard the familiar drawl of Richie’s voice, he was always loud and you never appreciated that more than in this moment. You spun around a few times to try and spot him, finding the whole group of people standing a few ways off, Carmy had better luck than you did seeing as he was already standing there getting congratulations from every which way.

Smiling you began making your way through the other families apologizing along the way as accidentally bumped into people. Mikey was the first person to spot your approach, his eyes finding yours over Carmy’s head as he spoke to him. The wide smile took over your face instantaneously his own seeming to match yours, you picked up the pace trying to reach him as soon as possible.

Your hand raised in an excited wave, Mikey’s returning wave caused Carmy to turn as well a small smile growing on his face the closer you got to them, his hand raising in a shy wave as you approached. You hadn’t given Carmy a second glance as you brushed past him to leap into Mikey’s awaiting arms.

Carmy tried not to let the hurt show on his face as you ignored his presence, Mikey spun you around in his arms the sounds of your melodic laugh mixed with Mikey’s rough one felt like the only thing he could hear. He did his best to keep the smile on his face, ignoring the apologetic look Nat sent his way by bending down to pick up your cap that fell to the ground from all the excitement.

He hated to admit it but he understood the cold shoulder you were adamant on giving him. After that day at The Beef things were never the same, upon returning to Claire he’d tried his best to shut down whatever was transpiring between them but couldn’t allow himself to break two hearts in one day. And while he was doing his best to spare Claire’s feelings all it did was push you into the arms of his brother.

The more you distanced yourself from Carmy, the more time you spent with Mikey. Carmy tried to convince himself there was nothing untoward going on between the two of you but between the quiet laughter and the shared jokes he was beginning to feel paranoid. And now he stood there like a loser watching his best friend, the only person he ever wanted to share his joy with again, cling to his older brother like a lifeline.

You squealed as Mikey roughly set you back on the ground, hands falling to his biceps as you smiled at him. “Don’t tell me you shaved for a little graduation ceremony.” One of your hands settling against the slight stubble on his cheek.

Mikey’s response was mute to your ears as rough hands gripped your head, the smell of Richie’s cologne invaded your senses as he began plastering chaste kisses all over your face, one hand removing its grip as he raised a disposable camera to snap a picture of the two of you,

The sound of Nat’s annoyed sigh reached your ears as she shoved her way between you and Richie a look of disgust on her face at Richie’s overdramatic display of affection. “You grew up so fast Baby,” Her arms pulled you into a gentle hug against her chest the two of you rocking back and forth in each other’s arms before she pulled back the proud smile on her face telling you all you needed to know. “We need pictures though.” She gave a soft pat to your backside as you walked away to find your mom and aunt.

You gathered with your small family for pictures, wiping your mom's tears of joy as the three of you posed together. You did your best to hold your tears at bay, thankful your mom was still around to enjoy this moment with you. You felt a bit resigned as your aunt stepped out of frame after a few shots, watching silently as she motioned good-naturedly for Carmen to take her place.

Things between the two of you were the weirdest they’d ever been, with the whole prom debacle a few weeks ago you made it your mission to be alone with him as little as possible. He stepped towards you eyes everywhere but your face, the tension between the two of you was obvious but thankfully everyone ignored it in the same way you did.

It was hard to feel any resentment towards him as he tentatively reached up, his hands delicately fixing your dropped cap atop your head. You sent him a small smile before turning to face the camera, a genuine smile coming to your face.

Rounds of photos later, each with a different participant and you were almost begging to leave, but the sound of Donna’s voice rang through your ears. “Just Bear and Baby now! Our two high-school graduates where’d the fucking time go.”

You couldn’t say no to Donna, and even if you did it's not like you had a believable reason as to why you didn’t want to be pictured alone with Carmy. The two of you got in position next to each other, neither of you moving to bridge the space between the two of you, both deciding to don awkward poses holding up your diplomas.

“Oh c’mon act like you love each other!” The words were mumbled through a cigarette but you knew Donna expected more from the two of you.

A reluctant sigh left you as you stepped closer to Carmy arm brushing his. You looked in his direction for a moment rolling your eyes at the blush on his cheeks. You reached out forcefully handing him your diploma as you fixed his uneven stole. You locked eyes, your heart speeding up just by staring at him, of course, you were still hurt by his actions but you couldn’t deny the soft spot you’d always have for him.

The urge to caress his cheek surged through you, but instead, you carefully took your diploma from his grip. Your hand fell to wrap around his as a small sincere smile rose to your lips, “I’m proud of you Carm.” The words were softly spoken between the two of you, you sent him one last smile before turning back for the last few pictures.

The backyard of the Berzatto family household was overrun with disposable cups and plates scattered around the various folding tables. A surprise graduation party for you and Carmy took place there after the ceremony, though most everybody had cleared out by now the backyard relatively empty.

You stumbled your way to the backyard after seeing Hayden off, soft giggles escaping you every few minutes or so. You’d spent the party socializing mostly with The Beef family and friends, a few of Carmy’s family members, and neighbors who’d joined the celebration, Claire and Hayden joined the party after some time with their own families. The night was mostly spent explaining your plans for college a hundred times over to all the curious adults who’d offered various forms of unsolicited advice.

Richie had been your saving grace though as he’d offered you drinks sporadically throughout the night he reasons that you deserved to celebrate. He’d cut you off before things got too far lecturing you about how Mikey and your mom would kill him if he got you drunk. So you spent the remainder of your night slightly tipsy enjoying yourself more than you probably would have.

The poisonous liquid even opened you up to spending time around Carmy. You knew he’d had a drink of his own but you weren’t sure if he continued like you had. But what sent you over the edge was the joint Hayden brought that the two of you snuck away to smoke. You’d had your fair share of drinks but you’d never been high before, and while all it seemed to do at first was make you a giggly mess, you found that you now had trouble getting your limbs to work properly.

You made your way safely to the backyard by placing your hand on the gate and following its path, eyes glued to the dirt beneath your sandals incessant giggles leaving you. The path illuminated as you stepped through the garden gate. You spotted Mikey and Richie moving around the backyard trash bags in hand as they cleaned up.

“You guysss.” Even to your ears, your voice didn’t sound like your own, your words drawn out the tone more high pitched.

More giggles escaped you as you began trying to skip over to the older men, whatever control over your equilibrium completely gone as your legs gave out knees connecting with the dirt, hands doing little to stop your fall as your body met the ground.

You didn’t even bother lifting yourself, instead rolling over as full belly laughs wracked your body, the lack of oxygen to your brain extending your high. You could feel someone tugging at your arms trying to pull you off the ground, laughs worsening tenfold as you felt like a rag doll gravity keeping your dead weight on the ground as hands fought to pull you up.

“Hey c’mon get up.” At the sound of Mikey’s voice, you let out an excited squeal finally helping him.

Mikey stumbled as you energetically rose arms tightly wrapping around his neck, head leaning into his chest as you divulged into another spell of giggles. You allowed him to gently remove your arms from around his neck taking a step back to check you a whispered curse leaving him as he motioned for Richie.

You tuned their voices out hands moving to try and play with Mikey’s hair, the inky tendrils were mesmerizing under the fairy lights, and you pouted as Mikey kept dodging your assault.

“Why the fuck do you smell like weed?” Mikey’s question stole your attention, your eyes darting between him and Richie a sly smile gracing your face as you raised your index finger to your lips in a shushing motion before you began to lose your balance once more but the firm almost harsh grip on your bicep steadied you. “Are you fucking high right now? Was it that fuckin’ loser who’s always on your ass?”

You scoffed at Mikey a sneer taking over your features, “Are you?” The backyard was silent, Richie stood watching the scene play out uncomfortably before your laughter started up once again. You weren’t privy to the hurt that flashed across Mikey’s face before he led you to sit down, kneeling in front of you to check out your scrapped-up knees. You watched on in silence gently swaying back and forth as you hummed.

Carmy walked into the kitchen to find Richie rummaging around as he quietly cursed to himself, the sound of Carmy’s footsteps alerted him to his presence, “Yo where the fuck is the first aid kit?” The anger in Richie’s voice confused Carmy as he shrugged deciding to help him look.

“Dunno, what’d ya need it for?” Carmy couldn’t pretend to know how Donna organized everything in the house, the only thing he had free reign over was his bedroom.

Richie slammed a cabinet in frustration, “Baby’s fucking high, probably drunk too. I don’t know why she hangs around that stupid fucking kid he’s bad news.”

Carmy frowned, he remembered watching you wander off somewhere with Hayden but he couldn’t remember you coming back and maybe he got you high, but Richie was the one who allowed you to drink in the first place so the blame was equally his. “Is she okay, why do we need the first-aid kit? And why the fuck did you even let her drink in the first place.” Carmy’s head swam with negative thoughts.

Richie stopped his search hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose the last thing he needed was Carmy and his fucking teenage angst being misguided towards him. Richie knew he shouldn’t have allowed you to drink as much as you did, but he didn’t see a problem with it considering it was supervised, how the fuck was he supposed to know you’d run off and get high. Before Richie could give the youngest Berzatto a piece of his mind his phone began to ring, the chime he designated for Tiff rang through his ears. He let out a quiet sigh as he dug his phone out of his pocket.

“Find the fuckin’ first aid kit and take it outside to Mikey.” Carmy’s eyes followed the direction Richie pointed his hand in before walking off. Eyes landing on you and Mikey, the older man settled in front of you on bended knee hand carefully massaging into your calf as he looked over your knee, your head raised to the night sky a smile of bliss on your lips.

You gazed up at the sky wondering what it must feel like to be a star, a feeling of contentment washing over you the longer you stared up at them. After a while, your head lulled to the side before your eyes found Mikey body still kneeling in the dirt before you.

“Mikey,” you waited as he let out a soft hum, his fingers carefully digging the pebble out of the skin of your knee. “Will you dance with me?”

Mikey let out a sigh, his earlier annoyance washed away the longer he realized you were safe, that even though you were crossfaded you still had the mind to return to him. He rose, knees thankful to be out of the kneeling position as he held his hand out to you to indulge your desire.

You stood on shaky legs allowing the older man to guide you to the center of the backyard, the only thing you could do in your inebriated state was sway back and forth, the weightlessness of your body forcing Mikey to guide the both of you. All was quiet, your cheek found purchase on Mikey’s chest at some point, and the sound of his heartbeat lulled you into a sense of calmness.

The night air was warm as the two of you swayed for what felt like an eternity, your hands moved from their place around Mikey’s waist to tightly wrap around his neck, eyes finding his. “Why doesn’t Carmy love me the way I love him?”

Mikey frowned unsure of what to say, you still looked gone out of your mind. A smile still playing on your lips, but the question you asked him was the direct opposite of every feeling present on your face. “Baby,” a tired sigh left him. “You’re kids, you’ve got your whole life to figure this shit out.”

You laughed, nothing Mikey said was funny you just couldn’t stop the urge to laugh at every little thing. Your fingers began unconsciously playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, for as long as you’d known Mikey you hadn’t realized just how handsome he was. You knew he attracted plenty of people but you’d never given much thought to it until now, seeing his face glow under the fairy lights.

Mikey’s side profile lit up showing off his chiseled jaw, his eyes roaming the back door trying to figure out what the fuck was taking Richie so long to find the first-aid kit.

After minutes of searching, Carmy finally decided to grab the first-aid kit from the guest bathroom before returning to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks just as he made it to the back door fingers tightly gripping the plastic in his hand as he watched you and Mikey in the center of the backyard, eyes wide heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Carmy’s eyes moved from Mikey’s hands on your waist, to your hands wrapped around his neck fingers in his freshly trimmed hair before his eyes landed on the way your lips seemed to find solace against the oldest Berzatto’s.

He couldn’t stand to look at the two of you any longer, his feet leading him back into the kitchen carelessly dropping the first-aid kit to the counter as his hands gripped the marble. His mind raced with all the ways he might have imagined what he had just seen. He did his best to ignore the sound of Richie’s voice as he finally returned, his grating Chicago accent asking about the stupid fucking first-aid kit before snatching it off the counter himself and moving to exit the house.

“Oh…shit.” Carmy had never thought in all his years of knowing Richie that the man was capable of whispering, but as he stood there trying to convince himself he’d made the whole scene up he knew it was null and void from Richie’s reaction alone.

Carmy moved back into the shadow of the kitchen as the back door opened, your quiet giggles filtering through his ears as you entered the house, a soft ‘goodnight Richie’ followed as you walked past him to head wherever you were going. Carmy watched you make your way to the stairs, his hands shaking as he tried to get a hold of his anger, the sight of you tripping up the stairs a catalyst for the damn that held his emotions back.

Without a second thought, he pushed past Richie making his way outside to find Mikey sitting down, head in his hands. “You robbing the fucking cradle now huh?” He ignored Richie’s plea to calm down not even wanting to be around either of these two fucking losers.

Mikey raised his head exhaustion clear on his face, “Go to bed Carmy.” His tone was dismissive as he stood from his position to continue his cleaning.

The casual way Mikey ignored him pissed Carmy off even more, “Why the fuck would you kiss her Mikey? What the fuck is your problem man!”

Carmy did his best to shrug off Richie’s touch as the man tried and failed to lead the riled-up teenager back inside, sure this was all some big misunderstanding. “I don’t have time for this, just get the fuck outta here.” Carmy could hear the growing frustration in his brother’s voice but the anger surging through him was fighting any logic his brain was pushing forth.

“You’re a piece of fucking shit Mikey, what the fuck you say to her huh? Sh-she wouldn’t just fucking kiss you, Mikey. Don’t pretend you fucking deserve her…I-I see the way you look at her don’t fucking lie to me.”

Carmy’s words had their intended effect whichever ones he wasn’t sure but he’d struck a cord in Mikey, that much was evident in the way he threw an empty beer bottle to the ground the loud shattering echoing through the quiet neighborhood. “And you do Carm?” A sardonic laugh left the vicious sneer on Mikey’s lips, “Give her a couple years Carm, who knows maybe she’ll decide I’m the better brother.”

Mikey knew the words were wrong the second they left his mouth and he didn’t need to hear Richie’s admonishing call of his name to realize it. Mikey didn’t see you as anything more than a little sister and he made sure you knew that as he gently pushed you away from him, breaking the kiss you initiated as soon as it started, he couldn’t be sure your inebriated mind understood at the moment, but he needed to make the boundaries between the two of you clear. Talking about you in the way he just did made him feel like the piece of shit Carmy was making him out to be, he was old enough to know not to disrespect you in the way he just did, but his younger brother's misdirected anger was the last thing he needed to hear, so Mikey hit him where it hurt a low moment of his he was sure to regret.

It all happened so fast the way Carmy took several quick steps forward, fist swinging out just as Richie wrapped his arms around him stopping his momentum before his fist could connect with Mikey’s face. Carmy struggled against Richie for a few moments before slumping against him defeat clear on his face. He shoved Richie away from him as he let him go, angry eyes blazing through Mikey’s figure.

“Fuck you, Mikey,” The quiet angry quip was punctuated by the glob of spit flying out of Carmy’s mouth and landing by Mikey’s shoe.

The last thing Carmy wanted to see as he stormed into his room was your figure in the middle of his floor, sundress pushed far too high up your legs displaying your panties as you sorted through the first-aid supplies scattered around you that you’d most likely found in his bathroom.

You looked like a fucking idiot sitting there focusing way too hard trying to read the ointment you’d picked up. Carmy’s irritated huff reached your ears a wide grin gracing your lips as you looked up to see him standing in the doorway. He rolled his eyes slamming the door behind him as he made his way fully into the room.

The loud noise had you stifling your giggles, “Someone’s mad.” The words were drawn out in a sing-song voice.

Carmy was doing his damndest to not blow up on you as he made his way to his dresser before pulling out a pair of your sweats you kept over for emergencies. He pulled the sweats out balling them up in his hand before harshly slamming the drawer and turning around and tossing them at your head, the bundle of cotton hitting you in the face and sending you into a fit of hysterics.

“Fucking cover yourself up.” The harsh tone of his voice caused you to roll your eyes quiet giggles still slipping past your lips as you reached for the sweats before putting on a deep voice and mocking him.

You stood up struggling to step into your sweats without losing your balance. You’d thought you had it this time but you were mistaken as the feeling of being on one leg sent you toppling over onto Carmy’s bed.

Carmy’s anger ebbed away into annoyance at the state you were in as he moved to help you stand before leading you to sit on his bed eyes dropping to your scraped-up knees only to realize that you’d done fuck all to clean them.

He ignored you as he gathered the necessary supplies and began to work on the scrapes on your right knee, doing his best to finish quickly so the both of you could get some sleep and pretend this night never happened.

“Carmy, you’re still my best friend…right?” You still sounded out of it as you asked the question, Carmy was resigned to ignoring you but then your soft voice began whispering his name incessantly.

“Sure Baby.” The irritation was obvious in his voice, and even more obvious in the way he harshly rubbed the alcohol pad against your wound, the movement causing you to wince. “Sorry.”

You sat still for a moment before your hands made their way to his grown-out hair, fingers wrapping around the curls that began to form at the ends. “I have a secret to tell you but you have to promise you won’t get mad.”

He gave a noncommittal hum hoping to finish patching you up before you spoke another word. The silence in the room gave Carmy hope that you’d fallen asleep but he was sorely mistaken as your quiet voice reached his ears. “I kissed Mikey. But…he didn’t like it.”

Carmy was surprised to hear the words leave your mouth, sure that the drugs and alcohol in your system would lead you to crack some stupid joke. He let go of your leg before leaning back on his haunches his eyebrows furrowed at your admission. “Why?” If this was true, if you kissed Mikey of your own volition he needed to understand why. And it also meant he probably owed his older brother some form of an apology.

He watched as your shoulders moved up and down in a lazy shrug that goofy smile still pulling at your lips, but the sheen in your eyes contradicted it, “I wanted to forget about you.” Your voice was hoarse with emotion as you answered hands moving from the curls of Carmy’s hair to gently grip his face in your scratched-up hands.

The two of you stared at each other, minutes ticking by as you drank each other in, Carmy’s confusion only growing as you began to giggle again, the noise juxtaposed by the new tears streaming down your cheeks.

“But I think I’ll remember you forever.”

a/n: please don’t take this as your sign to get experimental with drugs and alcohol, in no way am i endorsing that any of you go out and do this. please remember you are responsible for your own media consumption!!!

my first edible made me think i was the yellow power ranger, so please if you do, use recreational drugs safely and correctly!!!

#etherealising’s 1k celebration #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #fem reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] universe

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farfromstrange · 1 year ago

Text

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him.

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense.

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again.

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true.

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks.

Foggy dislocated his shoulder.

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act.

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital.

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him.

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips.

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on.

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought.

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence.

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say.

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why?

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask.

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet.

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says.

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind.

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real.

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says.

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further.

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go.

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort.

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about.

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot.

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself.

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise.

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated.

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?”

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.”

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing.

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier.

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor.

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin.

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry.

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help.

“It’s fine,” he assures you.

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.”

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier.

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes.

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do.

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie.

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for.

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers.

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.”

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye.

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says.

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running.

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @littlehappyperson @danzer8705

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

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