#local annoyance writes stuff

[localannoyance]

Paralive HC Requests (Yohei and Saimon)

I did some flower prompts from this list for Yohei and Saimon from Paralive as requested by a friend. This is my first time doing this and thought to share it. Personally, I see them as platonic best friends but feel free to take it however you want. Keep in mind I haven't caught up with all the tracks and content yet so if I make a canon error, let me know along with source so I can catch up.

It's been only a few months down this rabbit hole.

Alstroemeria - going to an event that the other person is interested in just to see them happy

Saimon Naokira

Saimon and Yohei are very close, having known him for years. Even still, there are aspects of Yohei's life that Saimon rarely touches simply because he's too busy with his own life; managing being a professor, a rapper and a bar owner is a lot. Not to mention the kids!

Although, it's much easier now than it was back then, back when Yohei was still an alleycat

I can see Saimon accompanying Yohei to an appliance exhibition sale as Yohei browses replacements for some of Bar 4/7's older tech (because Saimon definitely is too much of a sucker for nostalgia to want to replace anything as long as it works, so Yohei does it and needs his help bringing everything back)

…Or so he says, but Saimon can easily tell from the way he unconsciously smiles that Yohei is having a lot of fun imagining all the new ways he could make cocktails and food at the bar with the appliances

Saimon would listen intently while off to the side as Yohei pestered the salesperson with questions and specifications, such as if parts are replaceable; warranty dates; how much electricity it would take— all showing his care in wanting to keep costs to a minimum for Saimon's sake too

It was amusing for Saimon to point out when Yohei was accidentally scaring the person with how "enthusiastic" he was, earning a grunt with a hint of a smile

Other than interrupting sometimes for some questions and to put the other person more at ease, Saimon is happy to just be there and watch Yohei's passion show itself again; a worn photograph of the younger punk which had only mellowed and refined itself with age

At the end of the day, Saimon and Yohei return back to Bar 4/7 to unload everything, and he hums along to Yohei's ramblings on what he wants to set up first

Yohei Kanbayashi

Similar to above, they've known each other for a while now. However, with Yohei's business, he is too focused on his own things to really dabble in Saimon's work, despite caring for the other man a lot

…that, and I can imagine there are still some feelings he can't shake about being very involved in areas he feels undeserving in

An example would be the graduation of some of Saimon's students. As someone who didn't pursue further education, being there feels weird, but he'd go if Saimon asks him to

He doesn't quite feel enthusiastic about sitting/standing and watching a ceremony for a few hours straight, probably immediately calling a smoke break the second any sort of intermission is announced

Still, he has enough respect for the hard work each student has put in to graduate, so he watches everything in the ceremony, from clapping whenever a graduate receives their certificate to any shows the students put on

Though, he's mostly watching Saimon's reaction and following along, since he just wants to make him happy

Seeing how Saimon swells with pride over every student "growing up and spreading their wings and visions to new horizon" —Saimon's words, not his— does make Yohei feel kinda happy for these students too, oddly

That weird feeling of being moved seeing someone he holds in high regard be so moved

Yohei slides Saimon some tissues whenever he seems to tear up, looking away to give Saimon a private place to cry on his shoulder a little

He excuses himself sometimes when a parent comes to talk to Saimon, feeling a little awkward, but most time he lingers in the background to listen and (try to) encourage the student in their future

"Yohei, would you like to say something?" "Hah? Uh… just do what you want kid, and put your all in what you believe. —that good?" "Excellent words Yohei."

At the end of the graduation ceremony, he had to drag Saimon away before it got too late for both of them to open the bar for the night.

Dandelion - finally hearing the other person laugh after a period of hardship

Saimon Naokira

Yohei has probably been more restless and irritable in recent weeks, signaling to Saimon that something was wrong

Yohei tends to keep all his emotions bottled up and suppressed, though in his attempts to keep them hidden, becomes rather obvious

Saimon would pry, if he knew that Yohei wouldn't just shut himself off more if he tried. So, Saimon simply waits for Yohei to approach him

Saimon tries to help out around the bar more to ease Yohei's burdens since it could be anything really setting him off, and he knows that despite him not saying anything, Yohei sees his concern and is appreciative

Finally, Yohei approached Saimon of his own accord, and they talk and help Yohei through his troubles

Finally, Yohei takes a whiff of his cigarette and lets his shoulders relax just a little bit more, the invisible walls he put up whenever going through hardships falling, and with that a smile finally spreads across his features. Saimon smiles too, before giving Yohei a firm pat and shake on his shoulder

"Glad to see you feeling better, Yohei. You don't smile enough as is."

Another chuckle masked with a scoff comes from Yohei

Yohei Kanbanyashi

It was very unusual to see Saimon without a smile on his face, the dapper gentleman always having that calming aura and smile on his face for his students and the world to see

Even when he went through unimaginable pain, the gentleman never really left his smile behind

So this must've been really serious, Yohei surmised. Despite his nature, he picks up on small cues like these really well, especially with a longtime friend

Yohei gives Saimon some space but watches carefully whenever he can. Is Saimon eating well? Bring him food. Does he need coffee for his work? Prepare some for him.

However, Yohei would be a lot more proactive in asking Saimon what was wrong and trying his best to help

Yohei makes more wise cracks to Saimon, and whenever the older man seemed to be swimming in his thoughts, he'd nudge him by interrupting

When the source of Saimon's stress has been dealt with (with or without Yohei's intervention), or if he manages to laugh at one of Yohei's jokes, Yohei would chuckle back

"Now there's the smile our handsome bar owner was missing. I ain't gonna smile much, so you have to do it for both of us. Do it for the bar."

Saimon rolls his eyes with a hearty chuckle

[robo-writing]

helloooo

I’ve recently gotten into call of duty and I make a humble request 🕺

could I have a ghost x afab!reader who’s usually innocent and stuff, but tries to seduce him or something? Take your time!! I love your work

I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to people saying they love my writing 🥹

His squadmates check up on him occasionally—especially Soap, nosey as he is. For everything that they've gone through together they practically know nothing about Simon, and he likes it this way. Not to say that he doesn't trust them, but because Simon's a solitary creature, nothing more. However, it's surprising to the entire team when he off-handedly mentions that he's picked up a new hobby recently—bird-watching.

Immediately questions are fired off, but much to everyone's annoyance Simon only smiles as he takes another swig of beer. They almost suspect him of lying; he's not. His favorite past-time is making his way to his local haunt—9:00 pm sharp, every Friday—all to watch the pretty little bird behind the bar. He hasn’t missed a day, a regular customer every week for the past three months.

He likes the atmosphere, he likes how no one seems to ask questions about the 6’4 beast that orders his whiskey neat and sits alone in the corner—even more than that, he likes how you greet him with a smile every time he walks through the door.

Adorable really, how you fly about the bar, chirping out orders at the speed of light. More than once he’s had the opportunity to talk to you, and more than once have you averted your eyes from him, made yourself busy in hopes that you could hide the obvious attraction written on your face.

It never works, but he likes that about you.

He likes how you stumble over your words, how you meekly offer him a refill once his glass is empty, how your face lights up when he purposely lets his fingers touch your own when you set down a new glass. It's easy to let his mind wander knowing how easily riled up you are, and let it wander he does. Sensitive little birdy, he thinks to himself. Wonder how you'd react if his fingers were stroking your clit instead.

His pretty little birdie, shy little thing you are. So shy that you can’t bring yourself to express your little crush with words, but it’s alright—he knows—and he's willing to play this game for as long as you want it to go on. He's a patient man. It's February now, and it seems as if you're ready for this game to end. Among the red streamers and paper hearts that decorate the bar is you, and the cute red set you're so excited to show him. "I got the boss to sign off on it, see?" You ramble excitedly, stepping away for a single moment to show off your low-cut top and jeans to match. "Isn't it so cute?" He's the only one that gets this special treatment, the sight of you doing a 360 almost enough to make him reach across the bar. "Mhm," he agrees, far too engrossed in the shape of your ass than the color of your outfit. "Y'look amazing birdie." You bow your head in embarrassment at the nickname, unable to see how Simon's lips curl upward in response. "How am I supposed to react when you say things like that..." "It's a compliment. I don't say shit I don't mean." Again, you feel your face heat up at the implication, surprising yourself with a sudden burst of confidence. "You really mean that, don't you?" "I do. You think I don't?" "I think you're a flirt," you reply, the timbre of his voice sending shivers up your spine when he answers— "I'd be more than happy to prove just how honest I am, birdie." The look he sends you is nothing short of a promise, eyes boring into your own as he takes a sip. He knows, and you're willing to guess that he's known for a while based how how quick he is to laugh at your befuddled expression. "That's—I mean—" He sets his glass down slowly, tilting his head towards you. "Am I reading something wrong here?" You stumble over your words, barely muttering out a meek little "no" under your breath as he leans in close, enough to smell the liquor on his breath. "So, if I ain't wrong, feel free to meet me in the back after closing. I'd hate for you to think I'm a liar." Hours later, he found the answer to the question of how you'd react with his fingers against your clit—turns out you're even more sensitive than he imagined.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light in |One-shot [1]|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader | Dewey Riley and Fem!Reader

One-shot: A Classic Whodunit

Summary: Moving to Woodsborro was certainly not your willing decision. Change has always been hard for you, so what better way to cope than to make everyone else's life almost as miserable as yours?

Warning(s): Swearing, & mentioned family issues (?)

Notes: Finally got around to re-writing this and I definitely prefer this version. There's more Tara x Reader stuff and a little more details regarding R's past. Still based off this scene from Gilmore Girls and takes place when R just moved to town. This'll still be the last thing I'm able to post for one my stories for a bit, but I'm glad it's still something

Masterlist

The fall breeze hits you as you walk out of the school building. You continued reading from your book as you walked with your head hung low paying no mind to your surroundings, too engrossed with the words you read. That was until you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye, your brief suspicions immediately being confirmed when the person spoke. 

Dewey—who was previously leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed—began to follow you, uncrossing his arms. “Hey,” he nodded at you and you didn’t reciprocate, only turning your head to look at him briefly before turning your attention ahead of you while putting your book in your back pocket. “How was school?” Dewey immediately followed with. 

“Great,” you couldn’t help the blatant disinterest in your tone. 

“Learn anything good?” You could already tell he was amping up to something. There was a certain eagerness in his voice. An eagerness to segway into what he truly wanted to talk about. 

“Oh yeah, tons of things. I got gold stars plastered all of my forehead,” you remarked with as much sarcasm you could muster at the moment. 

“I got an interesting call today. Wanna know who it was from?” He asked and you couldn’t care less. 

“Not really,” you answered honestly, your tone still showing anything but amusement.

“So Mr. Collier—you know he owns the local market?”

“If you say so.” 

“Said you came in today.”

“He did?” You rhetorically asked; you looked both ways before you and Dewey now walked alongside a road. 

“And he said you took some money out of a little donation cup to help repair the roads. I told him he was crazy, you wouldn’t do that, you weren’t a thief, that he was just trying to start trouble and then I hung up on him.” Most of what Dewey was saying was going in one ear and out the other. You’ve grown good at tuning people out, intentional or not. Still Dewey continued. “Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging up on Mr. Collier. The guy’s nothing but a jerk—and he is crazy. But I was just wondering, if maybe, any of the other things were true.”

“What do you think?” You questioned with annoyance at the edge of your voice. You were starting to grow more and more impatient as he continued to yammer on. 

“I think if you tell me that what he’s saying is not true then I’m going to believe it’s not true,” he elaborated.

“Okay. It’s not true.” 

“That doesn’t sound very convincing—”

The two of you were now on a dirt path as you stopped in your tracks and finally turned to face Dewey. While one hand moved as you spoke, the other one was clenched into a fist to your side. “—Look, what exactly do you want from me? First I get forced to move here, now I’m stuck with you most of the time. I’m put in this place—now in a school that has us doing the pledge of allegiance in six-different-languages! I’m supposed to be this happy-go-lucky person after being taken away from my home, my friends—and now you want what from me?!” 

You didn’t need this. You were fine living in a crappy apartment. You were fine knowing the city you lived in like the back of your hand. You were fine having your best friend within walking distance. 

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Your father had no right to ship you off just because he couldn’t take his precious image being ruined. He was on the verge of sending you to military school before your mom stepped in. Their marriage had been falling apart for some time but this was definitely the nail in the coffin. 

“I’m just trying to help you,” Dewey sighed as his own patience was beginning to grow thin. Dewey knew about your complicated relationship with your father. He knew what led to you ending up in Woodsborro. He knew things about you before you even knew them. He just wanted to protect you, shield you from harm. Even if he knows where that has gotten him in the past.

“Well stop trying. Stop talking to me, stop following me, and stop asking me questions! Just stop!” You waved your hands in aggravation as you spoke, your temper and annoyance taking over you with each second. You were pissed and upset with every aspect of your life. Unfortunately, Dewey found himself being on the receiving end of your frustration. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

“That’s what you really want?” He wasn’t yelling but his voice grew louder with his second question to match your own tone.

“Yes,” you spoke with more conviction. 

“Fine. You got it, kid!” Dewey said as he threw his hands up.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

You both continued walking, both of you walking tensely as you stepped onto the bridge that went over the lake that was not far from where you two were previously standing. You each refused to look at the other as you walked along the bridge. When you were halfway on the bridge, you suddenly felt yourself being shoved. In a blink of an eye, you go from standing on the bridge to standing in the lake soaking wet. You pushed your hair back to look at Dewey who was still walking with his back facing you. He didn’t pay the person he just shoved into a lake any mind. 

Great.

By the time you successfully lifted yourself up and got back on to the bridge, Dewey was gone. Nobody liked soggy socks but maybe you deserved it. Maybe. Even if you were far too stubborn to admit it. 

—

The next day people were crowded around Mr. Collier’s store. He was ranting about something with his hands going up and down as he spoke angrily. When Tara walked closer she finally saw what all the ruckus was about. 

Apparently someone had drawn the outline of a body right outside of his store and put up caution tape. It was obviously just a prank.  If there was actually a murder, the police wouldn’t let it hit daylight. Let alone bring attention to it by drawing an outline of the body with white chalk. They weren’t living in the interwar period. But Mr. Collier refused to see this as he argued with Sheriff Hicks, eyes flickering back and forth from the sheriff and the outline as he yelled. 

“What am I supposed to do?! I have a dead body right in front of my store!” 

“No. You have a chalk outline of a dead body in front of your store,” she said as a matter of fact. “One of my guys is doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then just sit tight? This is probably just some prank done by one of the highschoolers.” She sighed before walking away from the dramatic man. 

Tara couldn’t help but laugh as she looked over at the outline again. Nothing good ever happened in Woodsborro. Other than the fact that a few murders from the 90’s are practically a part of their school curricula, it was a boring ass town. So one should never take entertainment like this for granted. 

Sheriff Hicks came back just a few minutes later and informed everyone—mainly Mr. Collier—that everyone had been accounted for and it really was just a prank. 

“But it looks so real! Where’d they get the police tape?” The man was still in disbelief if his tone was anything to go by.

“Kids have their ways,” Hicks shrugged, resting a hand on her hips. She had gone through ghostface before and even her ptsd wasn't flaring up from what was in front of her. The man needed to relax.

“Who would be depraved enough to pull a stupid prank like this?!” 

As if on cue, Tara’s eyes found you leaning against a light pole across the street as you wore a devilish smirk. It shifted into a small smile when you met her eyes. You looked away for a moment then back at her before you walked away. 

Of course it was you. This had your name plastered all over it. You might as well have been posing at the scene of the crime. She should have known better. You have been wreaking havoc from the moment you stepped into town. Nothing good ever came from that stupid smirk she’s become all too familiar with. Everything about you annoyed her to no end. There was just something she couldn't put her finger on. It was driving her insane. You were going to drive her insane. 

—

The next day, Tara returned to the market so she could fulfill her duties as the snacks retriever for tonight’s movie marathon with the others. After seeing that everything—your mess—was cleaned up and Mr. Collier was less frantic, she made her way inside the market. While inside, she bumped into Wes. They talked for a few minutes as she continued shopping. Wes was nice, but romance wise? Tara didn’t know how to feel. Wes is kind, good looking, a gentleman—what was stopping Tara from going out with him?

“I’m going to ring these up but I’ll meet you outside?” Tara said to Wes and he nodded with a smile. Tara returned it before checking out the things she bought and waited outside the store for Wes with her plastic bags full of snacks in hand. She suddenly felt a light tap on back before she turned around and saw you.

“Should you be standing around here all alone? I heard this is a pretty dangerous corner,” you teased while emphasizing the word ‘pretty’ by motioning with your hands. Tara looked at you then immediately looked away as she crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” she said—trying in a nonchalant tone.

“Feeling succinct today?” You looked her up and down, noticing her tense demeanor.

“Pretty much.” She refused to give you anymore than that. She was not going to buckle. She was not going to fall for your witty remarks or snide comments.

“Hm,” you said while lightly nodding. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“Me? No.” Now she was finally looking at you, meeting your eyes.

“Good.” 

“You might wanna ask that same question to Dewey though.”

“Meaning?” You raised your eyebrows as if you didn’t have a single clue.

From your facial expressions to your tone—how were you so unbothered? How could you be so clueless? So dense? Fuck it. Maybe she was going to buckle and fall but you were just too irritating to resist the temptation. “You’ve got this whole town coming down on him,” Tara’s voice became more defensive.

“Reeeally? How’d I do that?” You feigned a look of surprise and concern, matching your conceited tone

She was going to punch you.

“You know how you did that,” she replied because you couldn’t be that dull. You just couldn’t. 

“I’m quite familiar with the bluebook laws in this town so you’re talking about a lot of things. Dropping a gum wrapper, strolling arm and arm with a member of the opposite sex on a Sunday,” you satirized with that vexing voice of yours.

Maybe you were that dull. Tara pointed down with both her arms at the chalk you both stood on. They were able to clean up the police tape no problem, but the chalk was going to take more elbow grease. 

You looked to where she was pointing before saying, “Ah.” You moved your feet off of the outline before continuing, “What about it?”

“You did it,” Tara said. “Everyone knows you did it. They had a meeting about it.”

“You actually go to those bizzaro town meetings?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. You shook your head, “God those things are so To Kill A Mockingbird.” 

“My friend’s mom is a sheriff, so she’s the one who went. And Dewey went. When he got there everyone ganged up on him. They all want you gone,” Tara told you with no remorse.

“Wow. Bummer.”

“And he’s standing there, yelling at everyone, and defending you—now he’s a pariah for the shit you’ve caused in just a month of being here.” You looked down to the side, processing what you were just told. You wore a look Tara wasn’t able to read. “Of course you don’t care about any of this,” she rolled eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” you said. 

“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” she waved you away with her hands, shooing you, before looking away.

“Fine…” You started to walk away but Tara’s frustration got the best of her and you stopped and turned back around when you heard her speak again. 

“You’re an asshole!” 

“Got a second wind, huh?” You tried to hide the displeasure you suddenly felt.

“You’re making his life hard. And for what? For your own amusement? You’re sadistic.” You could tell she had been holding that in. You also wouldn’t comment on how you found the pout she was wearing a little cute. “Second wind over.”

“I didn’t realize they were coming down so hard on him…”

“Funny, I never pegged you as clueless,” Tara remarked, annoyance still evident in her voice.

“I get it…” She gave you a look. “No no no, I do, I get it,” you lightly nodded at her. Contrary to your previous tone, your voice now held interest and understanding—and so did the look you gave her. Your eyes flickered between her and the chalk outline before asking the question that’s been in the back of your mind, “Did you at least think it was funny?”

Tara tried to fight the smile on her face as she rolled her eyes, but this time rolling them in a more playful manner. “That is so not the point!” She hoped you didn’t hear the laugh that threatened to come out. 

“Yeah… you thought it was funny,” you said proudly. 

“Shut up.” She could no longer meet your eyes, now looking back at the ground.

Before either of you could say anything else, the door to the market opened and Wes walked out with a few bags of his own. “I got the—oh hey,” Wes cut himself off to greet you.

He didn’t know you personally, just that you already had a few run-ins with his mom in just a month of being here. Did that make him weary of you? Sure. But you weren’t the first kid at his school to have run-ins with his mom. Your reasons were just more… creative. 

“This is Wes,” Tara introduced the two of you. Looking between you both as you two made eye contact.

“Boyfriend?” You asked without looking away from Wes.

“No! I mean,” she cleared her throat. “No. Not boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” was all you said as a reply while you continued to stare him down. “How you doin’?” 

“Good. Yeah I’m good,” Wes responded with a tightlipped smile. 

“Okay see you around,” Tara quickly cut in before this awkward interaction could go any further. 

You finally turned your attention back on Tara, looking at her. “Seems to turn out that way. Doesn’t it?” Your tone was underlined with something Tara couldn’t place. Before she could respond, you turned around and walked away to who knows where.

You were truly something. 

—

You let Tara’s words sink in as you made a detour to Dewey’s trailer. Deep down you knew Dewey didn’t deserve the way you were coming down on him. Especially when you could probably say he’s done more shit for you than your father has. 

Moving to Woodsborro was definitely not at all ideal. You hated change and everything that came with it. All it did was bring more anxiety into your life. So when your mother informed you you would be leaving Brooklyn to move to some town in California, you didn’t handle the news well. You still weren’t handling it well. There were a few reasons as to why you moved, your father being the root of each one. But although you understood part of it, what you didn’t understand is why you had to move so far away. Maybe that’s part of why you’re so hard on Dewey. If your mom was moving and starting fresh, it makes sense she would want to start it surrounded by close friends. But did she have to pick one that lived so far away?

You didn’t know a bunch about her dynamic with Dewey other than the fact that they met in 1998 during the ghostface attacks. They eventually got close and became friends. They must have been great friends considering she made him your Godfather. 

You also knew Dewey was a former Sheriff. A former Sheriff that’s aware of your trip of a track record. He always made sure to keep an eye on you and it was extremely annoying. A nunsense really. It’s like you couldn’t breathe for five seconds without him hovering over you.

Your mom was a nurse, you didn’t get to see much of her. She always took as many shifts as she could, more shifts meant more money. More money is definitely something your family could use. Since your mom was always working, you often found yourself stuck with Dewey. You quickly grew sick and tired of him. But now here you were, making your way to Dewey’s trailer as you went over everything in your head. You knew you were the asshole in all this. Dewey was just trying to help you. He didn’t need you making it harder for him than it already was.

You knew what you had to do, even if it meant forcing out the words. Apologizing was not one of your specialties. You went over the exact words you wanted to say, sighing, before knocking on the door to Dewey’s trailer. 

Dewey answered the door, already knowing who it was. “Hey, kid,” he greeted just a second after he opened the door for you.

“Hey. Mind if I…?” You pointed to the inside of his trailer with raised eyebrows and he nodded before letting you inside. “So uh…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as you looked around as if you have never been in his trailer before. As if you hadn’t already spent most of your nights sleeping on the beat up mattress that was now leaned up against the wall. Dewey looked at you with his arms crossed and expression warm. You felt like he always wore a warm expression no matter what. “Hey,” you finally said once you realized you lost your train of thought.

He chuckled a bit before saying, “You already said that.”

“Right, well I wanted to…. Apologize,” you said while looking at the ground, playing with the fabric of your pockets.

“Okay. I’m listening,” Dewey replied as he took a seat on his futon.

“Oh, that was actually the apology.”

He hummed before inquiring, “For…?” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was enjoying this. 

You exhale, tilting your head back as you look at the ceiling. You finally looked back at him before saying, “I’m sorry for making things harder than it needs to be.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate that,” he looked at you with a soft expression. You didn’t get a lot of those.

“No problem,” you give a brief smile before you begin to turn around. But before you’re able to leave Dewey’s trailer, you hear his voice again. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I know your mom’s working tonight and Stephen’s off at a friend’s house. What do you say?” His offer caught you off guard. You certainly weren’t expecting that after all that you’ve put him through. But you also didn’t feel prone to declining it like you usually would be. 

“Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, actually,” there was still a bit of reluctance in your voice but it still held honesty. You were feeling something indescribable. You don't think you have ever felt it before, or maybe you just never felt it often. Dewey cared about you. He wanted to be there for you. It was a strange feeling, but not a dreadful one. 

You spent the remainder of your night in Dewey’s trailer; you talked and joked with one another as you ate leftover pizza with the television playing in the background. You always ate dinner alone. No one was ever around to eat with you and it didn’t take long for you to get used to it. It was different eating dinner with Dewey. To have someone to share a meal with. It was just a matter of whether it was a good or bad difference. 

Maybe for once you shouldn’t dread on your spiraling thoughts and enjoy the moment.

The next morning, you woke up to Dewey cursing at his toaster. You lazily pushed yourself up by your elbows, leaning forward and rubbing your eyes with one of your hands. “Damn toaster!” You heard Dewey curse before you heard something clattering. You pushed your blanket off of you before rolling off of the mattress and onto the floor then got up to see what was going on. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked once he saw you before continuing to whack his toaster. 

“No. You’re good,” you yawned. “But—uh, why are you assaulting your toaster?” You looked between him and the toaster with raised eyebrows.

“I’ve had this hunk of junk for ten years and suddenly it just stops working,” he answered with a huff as he continued to hit the toaster's side. 

“I don’t know if ten years is suddenly.”

He waved his hands up in the air, purposely dropping the screwdriver he had on to the counter in the process. He let out a defeated sigh as he said, “Forget it,” pushing the toaster away from him. “I have to grab a few things. Are you going to be fine here or do you want me to drop you off?” 

You looked at the toaster as you thought to yourself. “I”ll be fine,” you said and he patted your shoulder as he made his way towards his keys. 

“Breakfast is on the table—I shouldn’t be out long!” He called out before leaving through the trailer door.  As soon as he left, you went for his tool box. You remembered seeing it the first time you came over. After grabbing the tool box, you grabbed the toaster and got to work. It actually wasn’t that bad. There was just some tightening and cleaning that had to be done. By the time you finished, you had a little over ten minutes to spare before Dewey was home. It wasn’t until later that night he noticed something was different about his toaster.

“My toaster works,” he said with shock. This toaster was complete garbage just a few hours ago. What happened? He looked over to see you with your nose in your book, not paying him any mind. Then it dawned on him and he couldn't help the smile that grazed his face as he looked at you. “Thanks, kid.” 

“Didn’t do anything,” you simply replied before getting up from your mattress and grabbing your light jacket. “I’m going for a walk,” you reached for the handle before pausing. “I'll be back in a few,” you then added before leaving.

Dewey was still admiring his toaster when you returned.

-----------

A/N: tara and r are both sarcastic little shits in different fonts

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga @rroyale-109 @alliecavell

[munson-blurbs]

Hi, I'm really interested in your meet-cute idea. This is my first time making a request with my info and also first time writing to you, so I hope it makes sense🤗I'd choose Steve (Because your Steve fics are awesome), and my pronouns are she/her. About me, I'd probably be one of the shyest and most awkward people, I'm also a bit of an overthinker and I probably have a little stutter👉👈(as I heard from people around me). And about hobbies, I like playing piano and violin, and I sometimes paint. I really hope this is okay...

Your meet-cute happens while you're playing the piano!

CW: none, just Steve and Dustin annoying each other WC: 513 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

You didn’t hear the ruckus outside of the practice room at first. Your focus remained solely on the piano in front of you, your fingers dancing over the keys from muscle memory. The practice room was tucked into the corner of the school’s music wing, right next to the drama club’s storage room, which usually gave you peace and quiet after a long day at school.

Usually.

“Tell me again why I needed to leave work early to pick up your sorry ass?”

The voice from outside the door was familiar, but one you hadn’t heard in a while. Still, you continued playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. It was your favorite piece, soft and melodic and like being wrapped in a fantasy.

“I told you,” a different, younger voice said, “Eddie moved Hellfire to Thursday this week because we don’t have school tomorrow, and my mom has to work.”

There was a sigh, then: “Whatever, Henderson. You owe me.”

You heard feet shuffling past your room, but one pair abruptly came to a stop. 

“What’s that sound? Like someone’s playing the piano or something.”

“I think you cracked the case, Steve.”

Steve. That’s who that first voice belonged to—Steve Harrington, formerly known as King Steve. He’d graduated last year, the star of the basketball team. Last you’d heard, he was working at the local Family Video. 

Knuckles rapped a light knock on the door—so light, in fact, you barely registered it. Then there was another knock, this one a bit more forceful, that jolted you out of your musical stupor. 

“S-Someone’s in here!” Christ, this wasn’t a public restroom. Why would you answer like that?

Steve pushed the door open until it was slightly ajar. His eyes widened when they met yours, as though he was expecting the piano to be playing itself. 

Those eyes. Their melted milk chocolate hue softened the edges of the awkward tension, pulling you in and rendering you speechless for an extra beat. “Can I…can I help you with something?” You cleared your throat, trying to find the right tone. “I mean…hi.”

Oh, yeah. That was much better.

Steve didn’t seem bothered. He ran a hand through his hair–still gorgeous, perhaps even more so than when he was a student here, if that was possible–and smiled sheepishly. “You play the piano really pretty. Prettily. Is…is that a word?” He turned to the freshman standing next to him to confirm.

“Sure is, Webster.” The kid rolled his eyes. “You still sound like an idiot, though.”

Steve mumbled something under his breath and brought his attention back to you. “Do you play, like, modern stuff? Tears for Fears or something?”

“I don’t think she’s taking requests, Steve.”

“Shut up, Henderson!” Steve shoved the kid with barely any force; just enough to emphasize his annoyance.

You laughed, amused by their ridiculous banter. “Yeah, I do.” Your eyes drifted to where the Henderson boy was waiting impatiently. “But don’t you have to drive him home?”

Without looking back, Steve stepped inside the practice room and closed the door behind him. “He can walk.”

--

[theressaicon]

✩•.My cute little psycho.•✩

(yb Peter x (f) reader)

☆.。.：*・゜☆.。.：*・゜☆

Another Tuesday of me working at the local coffee shop. Could be better, could be worse, I always say. It keeps me going. My friend T/K keeps me company here. We've been friends for some time now and I can't imagine how my life would look like without him. He was the first one to take the first step. We eventually started to talk more and more, building great friendship between us as coworkers. It's good to have someone by your side when costumers can be quite rude. Somehow we always tries to make fun of it.

This day was pretty busy at the shop. High temperature from the sun shining outside made everyone sweat and me with T/K as well. Of course that almost no one ordered a hot coffee, that would be a suicide in this weather. Instead people wanted milkshakes, lemonades and cold stuff like that.

Mine and T/Ks part of the job was to take orders from costumers and deliver their products to them. The rest of the people working here were hidden at the back, making desserts, drinks and other stuff we sell. Lucky them, there was air conditioning in the back, so they didn't sweat there like we did. Sometimes T/K and I also went to the back to cool off, but today there was almost no time for that.

It gave us both a shock when we saw a guy walking into the store wearing a dark blue t-shirt with a black sleeveless hooded sweatshirt. I was terribly hot for him. I was almost unable to breathe from the heat in my light blouse and work apron. There was no way he could be cold! I exchanged glances with T/K and went to attend to the customers at the register while T/K went to serve the veiled man.

After a while he came back saying that the man had not yet chosen what he wanted. I shrugged it off and both of us went back to work. In two minutes he went again to try to ask what the guy would like. Just like before, no answer from him. So I offered to try to serve him myself.

As soon as I got to his table, he took off his hood and looked up. The fact that he was bald didn't scare me in any way, I calmly and smilingly asked if he knew what to order now. „Strawberry milkshake, please." he spoke quietly, maybe even shyly. „Right away, sir." I wrote his order down and left. T/K watched me with his mouth open as I returned with the order. „Ain't no way." He said with a look of annoyance. It made me chuckle. „Did you see that?! He said what he wanted to you without hesitation-" „Well I guess I am much more trustworthy and certainly nicer." I teased him playfully. „Yeah right, miss trustworthy." he rolled his eyes and kept doing what he was doing.

I made the decision that I would bring him the milkshake myself too. When he finished it, he paid and left me a tip before he left. It was my first tip of the week, which made me truly happy. But by the end of the day, I was still asking myself why he was wearing such warm clothes in this terribly hot weather.

☆.。.：*・゜☆.。.：*・゜☆

Another hot day at work, sweating like crazy and slightly getting pissed off by irritating people. Me and T/K were passing out from the everyday heat... Yet there was this guy in a sleeveless hoodie who seemed unbothered. As he sat down to his table like yesterday, I made a bet with T/K, that he's not gonna be able to serve him again. He accepted the bet, probably out of boredom, and went to the bald customer. Exactly as I expected, T/K returned defeated and without his order. "Watch and learn from the master," I said and confidently left.

„Good afternoon, sir. What will it be today?" I took out a pen with a paper to write on. „Good afternoon miss, I would love to order another strawberry milkshake." a warm smile appeared on his face while he was talking. „Alright sir, anything else?" I returned the warm smile. „Uhh... I.. um.. Well-" He looked stunned and started stuttering. I didn't want to make it worse for him, so I spoke to his embarrassment. „What if I get you your strawberry milkshake and when you finish it, you can decide whether to order anything else? " After a moment of silence and staring at me, he spoke again with a smile. „Ah yes, that would be wonderful."

Once I got back behind the counter to T/K, I set my hand. After a while he handed me five dollars without a single word and went on to work again defeated once again. 'easy money' I thought for myself.

Just like yesterday I gave the guy in the hoodie his milkshake and kept concentrating on my work. That wasn't easy though. There was this old aggressive man who purposely made troubles for his entertainment. I suspected he had dementia, but I think almost everyone around me has lately. He liked to drag his family to our cafe and apparently liked to show off in front of them. He thought that he probably owned the cafe and that he could afford almost anything.

„Hey! you- maid or whatever you are.. Milk!" I slowly turned to him with disbelief in my eyes. „Excuse me? Is there a problem, sir?" I asked diplomatically stepping forward to him. „Someone's deaf, huh? I. said. MILK." How arrogant I thought... But I'm about to keep my cool. „I see, okay sir. Now please tell me what you want me to do with the milk." „The fuck you mean? BRING IT, MORON!" his yelling made me jump and step back. T/K helped me out of the unpleasant situation by bringing a glass of milk. After that he pulled me to the side so I could calm down from the shouting. I hated to deal with him almost daily, but it's what I get paid for.

After a few minutes I felt good enough to work again. At that moment, the man wearing the sleeveless sweatshirt appeared at the register and handed over an empty milkshake glass. „Thank you very much for your services. The milkshakes you make here are lovely!" His words somehow made me happy and put a smile on my face. Blood began to rush to my cheeks, making my cheeks slightly red. „Anything else I can do for you?" I asked politely. „There is actually one thing, yes..." I strained my ears to hear his wish. „Y-your name.. May I know w-what your name is?" He scratched his neck at his question. His handsome smile didn't fade for a second as he was looking at me. I took his glass from his hand and answered. „It is Y/N L/N, mind telling me your name?" It seemed that he shivered a little, it took him about two seconds to answer, but he eventually did. „I'm Peter." „Well, I'm glad I could serve you Peter, again today! Will you visit us tomorrow too?" „Depends if you'll be here as well." „I'm here from Monday to Thursday." „Well, that answers my question. Oh and I almost forgot..." Suddenly he showed me a red rose. I have no idea where he kept the rose the whole time. „Here, Y/N... This is your todays tip." I accepted the flower with open lips. It was beautiful. „I love it, Peter! Thank you very much, this made my day!" If we weren't separated by a counter, I would have hugged him for sure. I had a reason to look forward to the next day.

☆.。：*・゜=time skip=☆.。.：*・゜☆

Thank god that todays Thursday is a bit cooler than the days before. Pleasant wind flew through my hair when I was heading to work. I was there first surprisingly, it doesn't happen very often. I put on my work apron and turned on the ice cream machine. And because I deserve it, I made myself latte that I of course paid for. I quickly wiped down the tables and eventually the rest of the staff arrived. I greeted T/K with an offer to make him coffee, but he refused, saying he was saving money for a new joystick or something like that.

The cafe was quiet today. Suspiciously calm. Then I realized that the old man didn't come today. I was relieved that I didn't have to deal with him today. I didn't even wonder where he was. I didn't care as long as he didn't make trouble around me or insult me.

This afternoon none other than Peter came in, the hooded man in the black sleeveless sweatshirt. As soon as he sat down at his table, I went to serve him. „Good afternoon, Peter, let me guess... Strawberry milkshake?" I smiled, caughing him off guard. Blush appeared on his cheeks as he stutterly spoke. „Ah, hello Y/N! H-how did you know?" „Well.. You had the same twice so I figured out you'd go for it again?" „Well, you are absolutely correct. I would love another strawberry milkshake!" and so I made one.

„Would you mind joining me?" He asked, pointing on the seat opposite to him. „Sorry..." a said „I'm still working, management wouldn't like it." „I can pay for whatever you'd choose." „That's kind of you, really.. Still I gotta say no." He looked so upset I pitted him. „But um.. Tomorrow's my day off. We could maybe..." that was the moment where his eyes almost popped out of his head. He looked like a child on Christmas day. „YES!" he unexpectedly yelled and drew attention on both of us. „UHM I'm mean.. I'm sorry heh.." looking embarrassed he apologized. „So.. tomorrow? Afternoon?" He agreed and started to drink his milkshake happily as soon as I brought it to him.

The only thing that startled me was T/K, piercing  me with his gaze. „What?" I asked confused. „What, you ask?! What was thaaat-" „What was what?" still not getting the point of his. „Are you seriously going out with this creep?" „Who are you calling a creep, huh? He's actually nice." I pouted at him. „Wow, I didn't know you are into guys that look like they are addicted to drugs or alcohol." „Hey, you can't say that when you don't know him!" 

I stood up for Peter. „And you do know him?" T/K argued back. „Well... I'm about to." T/K broke the silence between us. „Be careful, Y/N." „I will T/K, thanks for caring. Just remember, I'm adult too."

Meanwhile Peter drank his shake and went to the counter to pay. „There you go, pretty lady. See you tomorrow." Peter handed me the money and smirked. I took the money with a kind smile. I also noticed that T/K and Peter stared at each other almost deadly. Hmm, I wonder why, or not? „Whatcha staring at, man?" I couldn't believe my eyes that T/K was the one that said it. „You wanna know what I'm staring at? I'm staring on idiotic face, blocking my view." „Oh yeah? At least I have some hair, bald head." They roaster each other for like a whole minute that seemed like an hour. I was just standing there, watching like a female doe looking at two stags fighting with their antlers. I gotta admit it was quite funny to watch them till they involved nudging and physical signs of pushing. A few things fell of the table separating them, which made me act. I pushed them both away from each other, giving them warning glares. „I better go." Peter looked at me with apology in his eyes. „Yeah, sorry for T/Ks behavior." I replied, not meeting T/Ks eyes at any cost. „Then Peter turned and gave me a smile in the entrance door, walking round a corner.

„I'm disappointed, T/K." I said, picking up the fallen things off the ground. „Whatever... You'll thank me later." He scoffed, going to serve someone just to show he doesn't care about what happened. While picking up the things that fell I noticed a black lighter with a picture of a black and white colored heart. I thought for a moment... Wait up, PETER has the same heart on his dark blue T-shirt! He must've dropped it while trying to hurt T/K. I rushed out of the shop, running the way I saw Peter going a moment ago.

Peters pov:

That bastard makes me look stupid and dangerous to Y/N. Funny, he ain't wrong by saying I'm dangerous, but I would never hurt Y/N. And I wouldn't let anyone else hurt her. Or insult her, just like the old man on Wednesday did. Good thing I dealt with him, he's not going to say shit to anyone anymore, including my darling, again.

I went to an alley between some shops a few meters from the cafe. That jerk was getting on my nerves, always hanging around my Y/N... And so I pulled out a cigarette to calm myself down. But- oh shit.. I can't find my lighter. Then, an angel appeared in front of me.

Y/Ns pov:

„Peter! There you are..." I gasped for air, happy that he didn't go far. „Y-you forgot your lighter, um.. There you go." I handed it to him and watched his shocked face. „Wow- you chased me just to give me my lighter back?" „Yeah, I guess so." a tiny moment of silence appeared, however it wasn't feeling awkward at all. „Thank you Y/N." Peter smiled at me and lighted up his cigarette. „Oh." I said slightly socked, „hm? what?" „N-nothing! I just.. didn't know you smoke, that's all." I didn't want it to sound like I was being disgusted. „Oh- sorry." Surprisingly he put out his cigarette right away. „You didn't have to do that! I mean, we all deal with our problems somehow, one way or another." His eyes widened and I kept on talking. „I don't care what T/K says about you... I will make my own opinion on you and I'm looking forward to it."

Peters pov:

I couldn't believe my eyes... Y/N was so perfect. They are willing to get to know me. They are so kind. They are so precious and pretty and... Oh god. I'm mumbling to myself again. „Ehm- thank you, darling." „Darling? Well, that's new." Crap- I called them 'darling'- I mean, they are, but- Shitshitshitshitshit-!.. „I like that nickname." they said right after. Wow. Did I mention I fucking love them?! CAUSE I DO!-

„I gotta go, I still have stuff to clean and people to serve. See you tomorrow, Peter!" That was the last sentence they said to me today.

Fuck I'm obsessed.

[wannaeatramyeon]

i need samuel with an “annoyingly cute” s/o who literally never shuts up and pester him 24/7 whose fave color is pink (literal the opposite of him)

Who's out here trying to break people out of their Samuel angst? I started writing this, but realised I was more building up how Samuel + Reader got together rather than anything about what you asked lol.

Thanks for the ask anon - and happy Saturday!

Samuel Seo x Reader: Another work day

Samuel trying to do work, You doing anything but

Samuel wonders whether it's a curse or bad karma that he's with you.

You bounce into his office in a cloud of pink (and an impeccably cut suit) hellbent on trying to ruin his day.

"Sammy baby, wanna go for lunch?" You perch on his desk, annoyingly sitting on some of the important documents he is currently trying to review.

"Y/N, it's 10am. And how many times must I tell you to call me Samuel in the office," he roughly pushes you off.

"Fine be like that Mr. Important Boss Man. I have stuff to do too!"

"Then go do it."

.

.

"Mr. Seo? There's an urgent call on line 2 for you."

"Put it through."

"Sammy~ Cmon lets go for lunch."

"It's-" Samuel checks his watch, "10:30."

"Brunch then!"

He hangs up.

.

.

"Mr. Seo, Y/N is calling again. Shall I put them through?"

"Please ignore all calls from Y/N in the next couple hours."

"Of course, I'll tell them you're in a meeting."

.

.

You knock on his office door but receive no response. Slowly, you open it and poke your head around to see Samuel deep into his work. And blatantly ignoring you. Meeting, your ass.

"Samuel. Please."

No reaction.

"I'm really hungry!"

Nothing.

"I promise I'll leave you alone if we go now,"

Finally, his eyes meet yours accompanied with a single raised eyebrow.

"Until at least 5!"

Samuel leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. He gives you his full attention. Hours of peace from you does sound like a decent deal. Why he couldn't get that in the first place, he doesn't know.

"I swear you won't hear a peep from me until the end of the day," you mime zipping your lips and throwing away the key.

Samuel eyes the paperwork that covers his desk and the unread emails notification; he considers your face, excited and smiling. He resigns himself to his fate.

"Fine."

.

.

Samuel finds himself at a small, local hole-in-the-wall. You had eclectic taste at the best of times, but even this seemed a bit too... rustic for your taste.

As soon as you are seated, you nod your head towards to a quiet corner table, where a group of men are talking in hushed voices.

"Hey Sammy, that guy over there - he's the head you wanted to meet with right?"

You pass Samuel your compact mirror so he could discreetly check behind him. You notice his eyes widening and the spark of recognition.

"Did you know he was going to be here?!"

"Well I am hungry too... But why else did you think I wanted grab some food! And in this dump too!"

Samuel clenches his jaw in annoyance, exasperated at your antics yet again. You have undeniably good instinct and showed utmost loyalty to him, but your method left a lot to be desired. He quickly stands up to go over and introduce himself when-

"Hey!" you pout at him, "Don't I deserve a little something?" and tap twice at your puckered lips.

Even with everything, you always manage to draw as much amusement as you do ire. Samuel kisses you and murmurs a thanks before rushing off.

"Love you too, Sammy."

[lassieposting]

Lassie's Fic Prompts: Tolkien Edition

Usually I haunt mutuals or the prompt channels of Discord communities but the Tolkien ones are all massive and I have anxiety, so I'm gonna shove them in the tag instead! Fic concepts from your friendly local prompt goblin, because god knows my ass will never get around to writing them. This post will get updated as ideas occur to me. Tags are mostly to help express The Vibe™. Anyway feel free to come talk to me about this shit I have feelings.

Bagginshield

T+ || Fluffy || Post-Canon, Reunion Fic

When the ringbearers arrive in the Blessed Realm, as a reward for the great peril they have suffered on behalf of all of Middle Earth, they are granted a single boon by the Valar.

Bilbo Baggins knows that elves, dwarves and men go to different realms after death. But Mahal's halls are vast and grand, and he is only a very small Hobbit. Surely room can be found for a single burglar in the dwarven afterlife?

Barduil

G+ || Angsty || Post-Canon, Loss, Closure, Bonus Points For Bard's Memorial Surviving To Be Unearthed In The Modern Day

Before leaving Middle Earth, Thranduil pays a final visit to the memorial he had carved for Bard.

Saurondriel

T+ || || Debates & Bickering, Sauron Drawing Parallels Between His Life & 'Halbrand's', Sauron As A Calming Influence On Morgoth's Genocidal Tendencies, Galadriel's Black & White Thinking, Small Moments Of Goodness

Halbrand takes Galadriel out to eat with his first week's wages from the forge in Armenelos, but the puppetry performance going on in the plaza - in which she is the heroine and he one of the villains - proves a distraction from their definitely-not-a-date.

When Halbrand admits that he's never seen the Sauron/Morgoth duo portrayed as utterly evil before, coming as he does from a land of their allies, Galadriel asks him what kind of stories the Southlanders tell. Sensing an opportunity to humanise himself in her mind, Halbrand dredges up some painful memories to introduce her to Mairon, Melkor and the path to hell paved with twisted love and good intentions.

T+ || Comedy || 5+1 Fic, Sauron Doing His Best, He's Not Spectacular At Being A Human But He's Trying, Galadriel Is Suspicious But Doesn't Know Enough About Humans To Call Him Out, Entirely Normal Mannish Behaviour™, Galadriel Will See A Guy Leave Scorchmarks On The Bedsheets When He Comes & Be Like 'It's Fine They Probably All Do That'

Halbrand is quite possibly the most realistic fana Sauron has ever created. He's designed to be so believably human he'll fly completely under the radar. But ultimately, a disguise is only ever as good as the actor wearing it. Halbrand is a fire spirit piloting an exquisitely crafted meat suit, and Sauron's idea of Totally Normal Mannish Behaviour is sometimes...slightly off base.

Galadriel is beginning to suspect the truth: her new significant annoyance is many things, but human is not one of them. But that's a terrifying prospect. And - and she hasn't spent all that much time around the race of Men herself, really. She's used to other elves. So it's probably fine. It's totally fine. Men are just Like That, is all.

AKA, five times Galadriel notices Halbrand's weird-as-fuck Maia traits/behaviours, but deliberately excuses them as Just Human Stuff because she doesn't want to deal with who and what he really is.

And one time where she already knows who and what he is. Many years into their marriage, Galadriel is mostly accustomed to her king's more unusual quirks. But sometimes, Mairon can be so human it almost breaks her heart.

T+ || Future Fic || Redemption Arc, Sort Of, Ainur Family Drama, Where Is Celeborn? Who Knows, Sauron Slouching Less Into The Light Of Goodness & More Into The Mist Of Moral Ambiguity, For Galadriel™, Dagor Dagorath

At the close of the Third Age, the last of Arda's elves take ship for Valinor, leaving Middle Earth - and the disembodied spirit of its former Dark Lord - to the race of Men. For thousands upon thousands of years, the Undying Lands enjoy a hard-won peace.

But when Morgoth manages to escape the Void, that peace is shattered, and with Valinor itself under threat, Ossë is dispatched to the world left behind to find the one soul who knows the enemy as well as Morgoth knows himself. He tracks Sauron to the deep south, where he's managed to claw back a physical form and has been living out his powerless exile as Hal Brand, old-timey blacksmith to the local ranchers.

When Ossë appears on his doorstep with news of Morgoth's escape, offering clemency in exchange for information, Sauron suspects a trap, and turns the offer down, intending to go into hiding rather than face his old master's rage at what's become of his dark kingdom and faithful servants. To sweeten the pot, Ossë leverages Sauron's greatest regret: the knowledge that Galadriel is in Valinor, and the implication that she'd like to see her old enemy again. Unable to resist the opportunity to reconcile with her, Sauron agrees to finally go home and share what he knows of Morgoth's plans and likely next moves with the Valar.

But with age-old grudges and rivalries causing trouble in Valinor, and Morgoth determined to retrieve his wayward lieutenant at any cost, can Sauron really turn back from the darkness long enough to hand victory to the Valar in the Last Battle?

T+ || Hurt/Comfort || Trauma, Nightmares, Identity Reveal, Sauron Has Seen Some Shit, He Probably Has Impressive Telepathy Defenses Most Of The Time But Shh, He Loves Her & He Wants To Be The Person She Thinks He Is,

Fighting for his life on the road to Eregion, Halbrand slowly succumbs to a murky world of fever dreams and infection-addled hallucinations. Trying to ease his restless sleep, Galadriel reaches out to to touch his mind...and finds herself dragged into a disjointed maelstrom of her most hated enemy's worst moments and greatest fears: Morgoth's bitter rage, the judgment of the Valar, the agony of bleeding out in the snow at Adar's feet, the inevitable pain of her own rejection if ever he's discovered.

Too weak to repel her or even really realise what he's sharing, Sauron lets her in, taking comfort from her presence. Presented with an opportunity she never thought she'd have - to look through the mind of her enemy unhindered - Galadriel stays her hand long enough to look for closure, for confirmation that he is the monster she's been hunting, that he's been manipulating her all along. Instead, she might just find something worth saving.

T+ || AU || Enemies To Lovers To Enemies To Friends To Lovers Again, Yelling At Sauron As Therapy, Halbrand!Mairon, Probably Because He Feels The Most Himself With Her Or Something, Aulë Knows Whats Up, He 100% Lets Slip On Purpose, Healing

After the destruction of the One Ring, what's left of Sauron's spirit is rounded up by the Valar and imprisoned in Valinor.

Galadriel does not find peace in the Undying Lands. After everything she has seen and done, she struggles to settle back into the realm of winterless spring. When a slip of the tongue from Aulë gives her the location of Sauron's prison, her restless nighttime wanderings begin to take her there to see him.

Sometimes, she is incandescent with rage and betrayal, and she vents her age-old anger on him without expecting any answers. Sometimes, she comes for information, and her questions are cold, cruel, demanding things flung through the bars. Sometimes, she is just sad and tired, and her questions are quiet things passed between them as they sit either side of the door. At first, there is no fight left in him: he takes what she throws at him in defeated silence. But the more she visits - to berate him, to needle him, to call him names, to ask him why, to reminisce - the more he starts to respond to her. And as her anger finally begins to die out, and their time together is increasingly spent remembering, and talking, and getting to know one another anew, the more the broken, amorphous creature in the cell begins to resemble the Man she once thought she knew.

M+ || Shameless Smut || Romance, Sauron's Complicated Relationship With Sexuality, Service Top Galadriel, Maybe Grayspec Maiar, The Mortifying Ordeal Of Emotional Intimacy, He Thinks She Wants To Subjugate Her Enemy, She Actually Wants To Love Her Idiot

Millennia ago, Mairon learned the value of sex as a bargaining chip, and he's been using it to get what he wants from the Incarnates - and Melkor - ever since. It's become a well-honed staple of his negotiation toolkit, a performance so well-rehearsed he barely needs to think about it. It's almost unheard of for anyone to notice that he tends to zone out partway through.

Almost.

Halbrand's tendency to seduce his way out of the doghouse hasn't gone unnoticed by his new queen, and nor has the way his eyes glaze over just as things start to get interesting. She's beginning to wonder whether anyone ever actually told him that intimacy is supposed to be fun. Determined to keep him in the moment with her, she decides she'll just have to teach him that herself.

AKA, Galadriel notices that Halbrand tends to dissociate and put on the act he thinks she wants from him in the bedroom. Concerned, she makes it her mission to show him he's safe to relax and enjoy himself with her - and absolutely wrecks him to make her point.

T+ || Canon Divergence || Galadriel Says Yes, Ainur Family Drama, Mairon's Aulë-Shaped Daddy Issues, Arondir & Theo, Could Be 5+1, Angst & Fluff, Maybe Comedy, Lucifer-Style Therapeutic Breakthrough, Aulë & Mairon Have Different Love Languages/Communication Styles, Galadriel Eyeing Sauron Suspiciously: What Are You Scheming Now, Meanwhile Sauron To Arondir: IDK Man I Just Never Felt Like I Was Good Enough YK? Why Wasn't I Good Enough?, Arondir Just: Your Majesty Have You Considered Therapy

Galadriel names Bronwyn advisor to the newly-restored crown of the Southlands, which means the new king and queen start seeing a lot of her husband and child. Mairon seems fascinated by the little family, and the pseudo-paternal relationship developing between Arondir and Theo - suddenly, he's full of questions about family dynamics for humans and elves. Gradually, the advice of his new wife and friends helps Mairon realise a few things about his own relationship with Aulë.

Alternatively, five times watching Arondir and Theo interact recontextualises a memory for Mairon, and one time he makes a parenting choice with Celebrían and saltily realises Aulë had a point in doing the same thing to him

T+ || Time Travel/Time Loop || Sauron Fucks Up The Timeline, Then Tries To Fix It Without Killing Finrod, Bonus Points If Halbrand Finds He Begrudgingly Likes Finrod, Alternate Meeting, Maybe She's Still A Soldier But Doesn't Remember Him, Maybe He Has To Go Back To Valinor To Even Meet Her, IDK Lots Of Options

The thing about Galadriel's rejection is that it all goes back to the death of her brother.

Either by his own power, or by the power of a Vala who wants to teach him a lesson, Sauron finds himself transported back to shortly before everything fell apart, and realises that, as Halbrand, he has an opportunity to fix everything...by breaking Finrod Felagund out of his own dungeon.

But he's surrounded by dangers, not least of which is his own former self, and time travel is tricky. Saving Felagund's life may have unexpected consequences - without her quest for vengeance, would he ever have met Galadriel at all?

T+ || Canon Divergence || Body-Sharing, The Equivalent Of Having Your Shitty Ex Crashing On Your Couch, Road Trip, There Was Only One Body

Ever since their falling out on the banks of the Glanduin, Sauron has been trying to get into Galadriel's head. One night, furious at yet another invaded dream about a man who never existed, she lashes out. She channels all her power into shoving him off the raft, or stabbing him with Finrod's long-lost dagger - and wakes, shaken and convinced that she just felt Sauron die.

She's half-right. She's successfully caught him by surprise, and ripped him out of his body. Unfortunately for her, since they were connected at the time, she's failed to leave him formless and impotent.

She's dragged him into her own head.

When he awakens, psychological warfare erupts as they battle for control of her body and mind, a twisted back and forth - she tries to drown him in his nightmares, and he tortures her with her broken heart. Eventually, as it becomes clear that the only way to evict him from her brain is to bring him back into proximity with his own body, they reach a tentative, fragile truce. They can hold off on killing each other for as long as it takes to journey across Middle Earth. They hope.

But it's a long way from the Shipwright's home in the Grey Havens to the half-finished tower of Barad-Dur, and a long time to get to grips with someone else's pain. When Halbrand reawakens in Mordor, Galadriel might find she's not so keen to kill him after all.

T+ || AU || Kidfic, Single Mom Galadriel, Halbrand Has A Dog And He's Gonna Make It Everyone's Problem, Step-Sauron, Romcom Vibes, Quite Wholesome Actually, Modern AU

Galadriel's marriage has been hanging by a thread for years, but when her estranged husband Celeborn is confirmed KIA overseas, she unexpectedly finds herself utterly lost in the world. Now a single mother to their heartbroken six-year-old daughter Celebrían, she takes a job offer that moves her little family halfway across the country and finds herself struggling to adjust to her new normal as she tries to settle in to a new area while transitioning from stay-at-home mom to…well. Putting a roof over her daughter's head and making sure Celebrían can see the play therapist a couple times a month.

Lonely, struggling and beginning to wonder if she fucked up by moving away for a fresh start, if she ought to just go home to her parents with her tail between her legs, Galadriel is delighted when Celebrían announces she's made a friend in the next garden over, and goes to introduce herself to her neighbours and invite their child to dinner.

The man who answers the door has tattoos, no kids, and is very happy to introduce her to the new friend Celebrían has been playing catch with over the fence: Carcharoth, an absurdly oversized shepherd mix.

While Galadriel is initially wary of her child getting friendly with a strange man and his rowdy dog, it's nice to have someone her own age to talk to. Someone who looks at her like he sees her, and doesn't find her wanting. Someone who supports her, and lets her support him in turn.

As their lives begin to twine together and they figure out how to fit their jagged edges together in a way that works, Galadriel starts to think she might just want to stay here after all.

AKA: Halbrand kept the dog in his messy breakup with Melkor. Carcharoth learns to play fetch…and fetches Halbrand a whole-ass family

M+ || AU || Wrong Number, Text Fic, Modern AU, Romcom Vibes, Strangers To Friends To Lovers, But Also Strangers To Rivals To Lovers, Halbrand's A+ Flirting, Found Family, Halbrand Uses His Middle Name In His Personal Life I Guess, Tevildo Is Spoiled And Orange

When Galadriel is offered one of four coveted associate spots at a prestigious inner-city law firm, she barely stops to think before wrestling a lifetime's worth of belongings into the trunk of her sensible hatchback and exchanging her sprawling family home in Tirion for an overpriced one-bed apartment in Eregion, halfway across the country.

While she's settling in, she receives a text from an unknown number - a picture of the sender's cat. And although she's not usually the type to strike up a conversation with a stranger, she's feeling rather alone and isolated in a new city while she waits for her first day at work, and so she responds with both a 'wrong number' warning and a question about the cat.

Unexpectedly, Wrong Number Guy texts back.

And keeps texting.

Over months, she develops a friendship with this stranger she's never met. Wrong Number Guy is apparently called Halbrand, has bizarre taste in music, can recommend an excellent restaurant for almost any cuisine, and should be jailed for excessive use of the smirk emoji. He sends her a good luck text on her first day at work, sends her pictures of Tevildo the cat to cheer her up when she's having a bad day, and once orders pizza to her apartment when she's having a really bad day. He also listens to her vent about her fellow associate and work archnemesis, Mairon, who's smug, shady as all hell, and gunning for the same promotion Galadriel wants, which naturally makes him the worst person alive.

As their relationship evolves, Galadriel starts trying to get Halbrand to meet her in real life. But he seems strangely hesitant for someone so charming and sociable, and it makes her wonder. Who is he, really? And what is he hiding from her?

M+ || AU || Modern AU, Sex Work, Accidental Voyeurism, Porn With Plot

Halbrand, being the fortunate owner of a Sexy Voice, has a nice little side gig doing audio porn on OF/Patreon/whatever, and he's Galadriel's go-to jill-off material. When her elderly neighbour transitions into a nursing home and the most obnoxious man alive moves in next door, she can't help feeling as though she's met him before. But it's not until she hears him getting off through their shared bedroom wall that she realises why his voice is so familiar.

G+ || Canon Compliant-ish || Half-Maia Celebrían, Werewolf!Sauron, Father-Daughter Bonding

When Celebrían is small and life is peaceful, Galadriel believes her lands to finally be safe, and the little princess of Lothlórien is free to wander the forest at will. Near the outskirts of her mother's realm, she befriends a strange wolfish creature with yellow eyes.

AKA: Galadriel has custody. Sauron, living as the Necromancer in Dol Guldur, risks sneaking into Lothlórien as a wolf or a warg for visitation.

M+ || AU || Modern AU, Sex Work, OnlyFans, Porn With Plot, Halbrand Is Loaded & Galadriel Is Making Bank, But Also Halbrand Is Interested In Her As A Person So That's A Plus, Online Flirting

Struggling to feel attractive and reclaim her sexuality after the breakdown of her marriage, Galadriel impulsively signs up for OnlyFans following a night out with Nori and one too many cocktails. It's fun and validating and boosts her confidence to get back into the dating scene. But the mediocre men she's meeting at bars and on dating apps quickly begin to pale in comparison to the lavish attentions of her most supportive follower, "darklordsauron", with whom she's beginning to feel an undeniable spark.

M+ || Canon Divergence || Dream Courtship, Prison Penpal, Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Morally Questionable Valar, Reeducation, Attempted Brainwashing

The war is over. Morgoth, brought back to Aman in chains, has sued for clemency, but the Valar do not fall for the same trick twice: it will be the Void for him this time. Thousands of his Úmaiar have been imprisoned in Valinor. And Galadriel, her oath fulfilled, joins the legions of Eldar taking ship back to the Undying Lands.

As she struggles to pick up the threads of her old life, embroidering and baking and waiting for her brothers to return from Mandos, a figure begins to appear in her dreams - in the background at first, becoming increasingly prominent the more she notices him - and she comes to know him as Halbrand the blacksmith.

Galadriel is no fool: she knows "Halbrand" is a Maia, paying court to her through her dreams. And she knows well the Aulendili who worked the Smith's forge when she was apprenticed there: she is certain she can discern the identity of her admirer, with a little time and effort.

But her dreams, she will come to realise, are not coming from Aulë's forge, and her Halbrand is no simple worker.

AKA: The war ends with Morgoth's defeat. Imprisoned by the Valar, Sauron's only escape is osanwe. Galadriel, a powerful telepath in her own right, gets unwittingly signed up to a prison pen pal program.

T+ || Canon Compliant || Third Age Haladriel, Sauron Can Still Be Halbrand In The Mind Palace, Just Not In Real Life, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort

In Caras Galadhon, Galadriel wakes up screaming from a horrifying PTSD nightmare. Instinctively, unintentionally, she reaches out for comfort, for safety, for understanding - not from her husband, sleeping soundly down the hall, but from an ancient evil she's been shutting out for centuries.

Hundreds of miles away in Barâd-Dur, Sauron answers the knock on the door to his mind -

-- and Halbrand does his best to give her what she needs.

M+ || Canon Divergence || Consensual But Neither Safe Nor Sane, Sauron Poking The Bear, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Deliberate Triggering, Halbrand's Morgoth Trauma, Galadriel's Finrod Trauma, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Aftercare In Both Directions, Galadriel Goes Too Far & Finds It Quite Upsetting, Halbrand's Shitty Coping Mechanisms

Sauron has spent hundreds of thousands of years devoted to Morgoth, in a relationship where every dynamic was characterised by power and domination - corrupter and corrupted, king and general, master and servant. In that time, he's learned that pain and punishment are unpleasant but essential components of absolution. When he fails or angers Melkor, he is punished for it, and then - eventually - forgiven.

Now, as Halbrand, he's not getting that same routine, and it's making him antsy and unsettled. Galadriel may have agreed to stay with him and bind him to her light, but he's painfully aware of her hatred for Sauron, the way her brother's corpse still lies between them. But she hasn't taken her retribution, and he hates waiting for the hammer to fall. He remembers all too well what happened the last time he failed to address this kind of resentment from an important ally. He wants her to get it over with.

At his invitation - and after a considerable amount of goading with which he manages to make her snap - she vents centuries of loathing and long-nurtured pain on the monster she's hunted for entire lifetimes - and, for reasons she cannot understand, he lets her. This makes Halbrand feel more stable, but she's horrified at her own loss of control. Together, they try to figure out a better way forward.

M+ || AU || Modern AU: Famous Musicians, Enemies To Lovers, Fake Dating, Romcom Vibes, He Makes Her A Little Bit Worse, She Makes Him A Little Bit Better, Writing Songs Together

Galadriel is a folk singer-songwriter with a squeaky-clean image, fighting to break out of obscurity. Halbrand is a trainwreck rock star on his third tabloid scandal of the year. Frantically attempting damage control, his long-suffering manager makes a deal with hers: a fake relationship. Being seen with her will make it look like he's finally getting his shit together, while being seen with him will give her much-needed exposure to a massive and passionate fanbase.

There's only one downside. She hates his guts.

G+ || Canon Divergence || Bronwyn Is Fine Guys, Comedy, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, Life Lessons, Romantic Cliches, Galadriel Just Wants A Little Bit Of Honesty Y'all

When Halbrand returns to the Southlands elfless and withdrawn, everyone seems to have Opinions on how he can win back Galadriel's affection.

Five times Halbrand follows the well-intentioned romantic advice offered by Bronwyn, Arondir, Theo, Celebrimbor (via letter, probably) and the newly-rescued Isildur, plus one time he finally gives up on the scheming and manipulation and gives Galadriel what she really wants from him: the truth.

G+ || Canon Divergence || Step-Sauron, Celebrían Has Balls Of Steel, Bonding

Halbrand doesn't really understand how to play. Celebrían attempts to bond in a way that will make sense to him.

AKA, Galadriel's eight year old challenges Morgoth's former right hand to a (play) swordfight

T+ || Canon Divergence || Lifespan Differences, Forgiveness In Mortals Vs Elves, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, The Southlanders Know, Bronwyn's A+ Ancient Immortal Entity-Wrangling Skills, Halbrand Goes Back To Pelargir With The Freed Southlanders

When baffling intelligence informs Galadriel that Halbrand has returned to what's left of the Southlands and taken up the crown she helped him steal, her conscience cannot allow her to sit idly by and leave those innocent people ignorant of the snake in their midst, vulnerable to whatever foul plan he's concocting for them. At the head of a train of humanitarian aid from Lindon, she rides for Pelargir to reveal Sauron's secret to his people.

As it turns out…they know. They've noticed. Several people saw him shield the village when the volcano erupted. Those who were imprisoned with him in Mordor have heard him use or understand Black Speech, or seen him calm the wargs. Bronwyn, who spends most of her time with him as Chief Advisor, is convinced that he doesn't sleep enough to be human, and he occasionally references events that happened long before he should've been born. But Sauron - an enemy most living elves have personally fought against - is a name from the very oldest of the Southlanders' stories to these people. A fairytale evil, defeated before their grandfathers' great-grandfathers were even thought of. They're more inclined to judge Halbrand based on what they've seen him do in person - save their lives, suffer for them, shield them from Adar - than on oral history from thousands of years ago, and as it stands, they're feeling considerably safer with their odd Maia king protecting them than they would feel without him. They're giving him a chance to prove he's changed for the better. So, shh, Commander. Let him pretend. He thinks nobody's noticed. There's a betting pool on when he'll figure out that they all know.

To Galadriel, this is…a rather alien viewpoint she has to wrestle with. Can someone really change that much in just a few thousand years?

T+ || Canon Divergence || Single Mom Galadriel, Teenage Celebrían, Step-Sauron, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, Mother-Daughter Relationships, Halbrand's Aule-Shaped Daddy Issues, Family Feelings, Bad Mom Galadriel Rights

Elves have immense lifespans and enjoy commensurably long childhoods; when Galadriel left her very young daughter in the care of distant relatives to go off and hunt down Sauron, she always assumed that she'd miss very little of Celebrían's youth in the grand scheme of things. But she's been gone a very long time, and when she finally sends for the newly-minted princess of the Southlands to join her in Pelargir, what arrives is not a sweet little girl but an angry, uprooted adolescent whose memories of her mother and father have gone fuzzy over centuries.

As mother and daughter struggle to reconnect and understand each other, Halbrand - poster child for parental abandonment issues - tries to bridge the gap.

T+ || Canon Divergence || Galadriel Said Yes, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, Power Couple, Kemen Being An Asshole, Political Manoeuvring, Halbrand Is An Incredibly Savvy Diplomat, Kemen Is Way Out Of His Depth, Kemen Trying To Sway Haladriel To Pharazon's Side, Possibly By Spouting The Lie That Míriel Has Allied With Sauron, Careful My Guy Or Sauron Might Just Decide To Uphold That So-Called 'Alliance' And Start Causing Problems, Galadriel's A+ Maia Wrangling Skills VS Her Friendship With Míriel FIGHT, Halbrand Getting To Go A Bit Feral

Kemen arrives in Pelargir to take control of the city, under the impression that no grubby, uneducated low man would dare challenge the new prince of Westernesse and his contingent of Númenorean guards.

But the king of the Southlands is not, in truth, a low man.

And neither is his new queen.

G+ || Canon Divergence || Pippin Took's A+ Life Choices, Butt Dialling The Dark Lord, Pippin Tries His Hand At Relationship Therapy, Outsider Perspective, Gandalf POV

In ROTK, Sauron answers the Palantír like he's really hoping it might be Galadriel this time. Pippin Took is not Galadriel, but he has recently met her, and - since he's not the brightest bulb and doesn't really cotton on that he's just accidentally facetimed the Dark Lord - he's perfectly happy to tell this complete stranger all about that experience in detail. Sauron, smart enough to realise that he might get some usable intel about Lothlorien out of this strange little creature, entertains the conversation for longer than he otherwise might have. Pippin is even pretty easy to talk to.

And when Gandalf bursts in, half-expecting the dear little soul to be driven mad with agony, he finds Pippin…very earnestly trying to talk Mairon through how to fix his relationship problems - an undertaking of such colossal stupidity that the entire West gave it up entire Ages ago.

And Mairon actually seems to be listening.

Angbang

T+ || Angsty || Outsider Perspective, Ainur Family Drama, Melkor Is A Mess But He's Mairon's Mess, Even Evil Has Loved Ones, The Valar Concept Of Love & Melkor's Concept Of Love As Very Different Things

Angband is a smoking ruin. The Enemy is a captive of the Valar. The war, it would seem, is over.

But the Ainur are uneasy. Not all of Morgoth's forces have been subdued. The Enemy's favourite servant has slipped the net, and getting information out of Melkor is like pulling teeth. Under questioning - and even the threat of the Void - in Valinor, he still refuses to tell them where his devoted lieutenant Sauron has gone into hiding.

Aulë, waiting for news of his wayward Maia, tries to make sense of how even the most corrupted of them all can be beholden to forces like love and loyalty, and how it can be that none of them ever saw this coming.

T+ || Fluff & Comedy || Epistolary Fic, Long-Distance Relationship, Leading Armies Means Being Apart A Lot, First Age, Love Letters, Complaint Letters As Well Lbh They Probably Bitch To Each Other A Lot About Everyone Else

Melkor's rise and fall, as told by the orders Melkor sends to Mairon, the reports Mairon sends back, and the informal postscripts attached to both.

M+ || PWP || Creative Use Of The Mind Palace, Telepathy, I Could Not Find A Mention On The Wiki Of Where Sauron Was During This Siege, So Let's Assume He Wasn't Like. Also Stuck In Angband

During the 400 year Siege of Angband, Melkor uses ósanwë to leave the surrounded fortress and spend some quality time with Mairon.

T+ || Angsty || Sanity Slippage, Hallucinations, Melkor Trying To Envision His Happily Ever After Even Though He Doesn't Know What Happily Ever After Looks Like

Sentenced to eternity in the Void, and slowly losing his mind to the isolation and sensory deprivation, Melkor comforts himself with visions of his little fire spirit.

Silvergifting

G+ || Fluffy || Celebrimbor Has A Crush, But He's Very Sweet About It, Possible Angst, Celebrimbor Probably Needs Closure Too, Halbrand Should Not Be Forging But He Can Still Hang Out

Celebrimbor likes to work late. Flattered by the admiration of a handsome young king, and delighted to have a fellow passionate smith to bounce ideas off, he takes to letting Halbrand join him in his workshop in the evenings while the latter is healing. One night, while swapping theories about the mithril and definitely not watching the candlelight catch on Halbrand's hair, he finds himself making a gift of his own. After all, a king should have a crown, and what better crown than one made by 'the Celebrimbor'?

(Possible angsty bonus scene: many thousands of years later, Galadriel seeks closure and a final goodbye in Mordor after Sauron's downfall. In the ruins of Barad-Dur she finds the crown that Celebrimbor made for a king who never existed, kept in Sauron's quarters as though treasured. Maybe she rescues it to take back to Valinor)

Poly/Multiple Ships

M+ || Saurondriel/Angbang || Past Abuse, Telepathy, The Mortifying Ordeal Of Learning To Make Better Romantic Choices, Sauron Loves & Fears Melkor Equally, Letting Go, Saurondriel Is Not Healthy But In This Case It Is HealthIER, So Like. That's Something

Sauron and Morgoth were still telepathically connected when Morgoth was thrown into the Void. A fragment of his consciousness remains in Sauron's mind, manifesting as a hallucination that only he can see and hear. At first, he is Melkor, the doting lover Sauron chooses to remember, amusing and affectionate and comforting and so, so missed. But, as rage and fear take over and the Void begins to drive Melkor mad, he increasingly behaves like Morgoth, the side of himself Sauron would rather forget - the cruel master whose wrath he fled after his defeat at Tol-in-Gaurhoth. With 'his' Melkor appearing less and less, Sauron becomes more and more burned out under the slew of criticism and mockery, and his confidence in his own ability to lead takes an additional battering when his subordinate turns on him at Forodwaith. When he happens to cross paths with Galadriel, he realises almost immediately that the light in her silences Morgoth's voice in his mind. As they grow closer, her unwavering belief in him - or, at least, in "Halbrand" - makes him want to do good, to please her and prove he's worthy of her support. But Morgoth is not the only voice silenced by proximity to Galadriel, and letting Melkor go is an agony he's not sure he can survive.

T+ || Angbang, Saurondriel, Galadriel/Celeborn || Having The Same Conversation While Thinking About Entirely Different People, She's Thinking About Celeborn, He's Thinking About Melkor, Halbrand's Species Has A Mayfly Lifespan & A Casual Approach To Intimacy So She Is Not Expecting Him To Understand At All, But He Really Really Does

When their flirty banter turns to their respective races' romantic customs, Galadriel finds herself opening up to Halbrand about elven marriage, about her long-lost husband, and about her feelings of guilt over her attraction to him.

Halbrand empathises. More than she ever thought he could.

M+ || AU || Saurondriel, Galadriel/Celeborn || Modern AU, Porn With Plot, Safe Sane & Consensual, Sex Work, Polyamory, Threesomes, Kink, Switch Halbrand, Galadriel & Celeborn Are Figuring Out What They Like So Who Knows, Halbrand Blacks Out & Has A Consensual Workplace Relationship

Galadriel's marriage has been going stale for years by the time her husband hesitantly comes out as bisexual. Secure in their relationship and trying to support him, she suggests a threesome to liven up their staid, predictable sex life - and, after some thought, Celeborn agrees. His one condition is that the third should be a professional, so that the situation won't get messy. Halbrand is the professional; they have a fantastic time with him and begin seeing him regularly. The first time they hire him, they all believe that this is the best way to avoid anyone catching feelings for anyone else. This, of course, goes really well for everyone involved.

M+ || AU || Saurondriel, Galadriel/Celebrimbor, Silvergifting ||Polyamory, Open Marriage, Copious Blacksmithing, Hurt/Comfort, Halbrand Recovering In Eregion, Relationship Miscommunications

A long time ago, Galadriel married Celebrimbor. They're fond of each other, but since circumstances so often keep them apart (Galadriel hunting Sauron for decades at a time, Celebrimbor inseparable from his forge), they've been quietly maintaining an open marriage for centuries, each occasionally seeking out discrete companionship when they feel the need.

This arrangement has worked well for them for hundreds of years. Neither of them expects it to ever change, or cause drama.

Enter Halbrand.

When Galadriel returns from Númenor with her wounded Southlander king, Celebrimbor is delighted to discover his wife's lover is a fellow smithing nerd. As Halbrand convalesces, Celebrimbor finds himself increasingly drawn to the charming young man and, in spending time with him, actually grows closer to his own wife.

When Halbrand's true identity comes to light, Galadriel is devastated, and Celebrimbor finds himself fighting to keep the three-way bond they've built from imploding.

M+ || Canon Divergence: Early S2 || Saurondriel, Silvergifting || Adar Frees The Southlanders & Creates A Problem, King Of The Southlands Halbrand, Aftermath Of Torture, Celebrimbor Rescues Halbrand From Mordor, Because He Has A Little Crush, Halbrand Recovering In Eregion AGAIN, Reunions

The Men of the Southlands have always been a stubborn, difficult people. Having waited over a thousand years for their royal line to reassert itself, and having seen control over their occupied lands ceded by no less than an elvish general, they're now proving very reluctant to give up on their shiny new king. When Halbrand trades his own surrender for his people's freedom, the displaced refugees descend upon the elven realms, petitioning Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor - Halbrand's apparent allies via Galadriel - to mount a rescue.

Although Galadriel's unsanctioned diplomatic manoeuvring has put him in a difficult position, Gil-Galad opts not to intervene; he thinks leaving Sauron and the orcs to duke it out between them will spare elven lives. For Galadriel herself - still reeling from the shock and betrayal of Halbrand's identity reveal, firmly in the doghouse with her High King, and demoted from her military station - this decision is a difficult one to stomach, as she struggles to reconcile her hatred for Sauron with the sudden fear and concern she feels for Halbrand, along with her own loss of her king's trust and inability to influence or counsel Gil-Galad to her advantage anymore. She's been cut out of the decision-making completely.

When she hears that Celebrimbor - for reasons she cannot begin to understand - has disobeyed Gil-Galad to send soldiers into Mordor to retrieve Halbrand, she rides for Eregion immediately, still not entirely sure whether she wants to see for herself that he's safe, or take the opportunity to kill him personally.

T+ || AU || Saurondriel, Silvergifting, Angbang || Goo Sauron, Sauron As The Rings, Maybe Being Split Into Three Rings Also Splits Him Into Three Personalities, So Galadriel Gets Halbrand/Repentant Mairon Who Is Smitten With Her, Celebrimbor Gets Annatar Who Grows To Be Fond Of Him, And Gil-Galad Gets Sauron Who Is Above All Things Fond Of Morgoth, The First Two Are Varying Degrees Of Tractable & Willing To Work/Compromise With Their Elven Bearers, But The Third One Is Manipulative And Wants Melkor Back, Which Is A Problem, And Now Sauron Is Attached To Possibly The Most Powerful King In Middle Earth At The Time

Galadriel does not find Sauron in Forodwaith, but she does find something that catches her attention: a strange ooze that moves almost like a living thing. Disturbed and suspicious, she catches it in a container and takes it back to Eregion with her, hoping one of the scholars there will be able to tell her what it is. Despite a few odd moments on the journey that make her wonder whether the goo might somehow be sentient, Eregion's scientists determine that the ooze is not an animal - it's a highly magically potent substance, probably leftover from Sauron's experiments.

Galadriel has some misgivings, but ultimately, Celebrimbor has some projects he thinks the goo might prove useful for, and she hands it over. He incorporates it into his Rings.

It's not until Galadriel slides Nenya onto her finger and begins having some strange dreams/hearing voices that she realises the truth: they've accidentally trapped a disincorporated Maia in there. Now they have to figure out how to free him.

And all Sauron has to do is not let on which Maia they've unwittingly imprisoned.

AKA: Mairon's ëala is in the Three, and he wants out. This has consequences (whether funny, romantic, horrifying, etc) for the ringbearers.

[skyfallslayer]

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

-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

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

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

🖤 Date: 12/06/23

🖤 Rating: Mature

🖤 Word Count: 12, 842 (Damn o-0)

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

-Let me know if I missed anything-

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

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

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

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

Him.

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

.

.

.

The King of Darkness himself.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| Four Days Ago || 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

“Damn. So it’s been awhile.”

“Yep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Quickly?”

“My Aunt wasn’t the nicest woman.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

However…

Deep down…

.

.

.

You still wonder what he’s doing.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Punch. Punch.

.

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

.

Punch. Punch.

.

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

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

.

Punch. Crack. Punch.

.

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

.

Punch. Crack. Pain. Whine. Punch.

.

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

.

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

.

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

“Yeah, Matty. She is.”

.

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

.

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Sorry.’

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

You scoffed out loud.

Hell…

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

“Morning, Mr. Murdock.” 

“Morning, Anthony.” 

“Taxi’s here like you requested.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled. “Sounds good to me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where have I–

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

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

That catches him off guard. “What?”

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

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

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

“Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Where is it?”

“Y/N–”

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

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

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

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

“But it’s deep. I really should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In public.”

“Oh, well—”

“See? You’ll hate it.”

“No, not necessarily.”

You pause. “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

“Only with the people I really admire.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

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

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

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

Your walkie suddenly crackles, an order coming through.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My treat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understood.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

“Figures.”

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

“-surprised she’s not dead yet.”

“I know, right? I’m still amazed.”

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

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

You froze, breath caught in your throat.

Wait, what? 

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

“That sounds about right.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I believe it.”

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

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

.

.

.

Why were you still alive?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

“Matty?” You said, taken back.

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

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

“You smell good, by the way.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did?” 

“Yeah.”

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

“Your hand okay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

“It’s… kind of a debbie-downer.”

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

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

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

“Listen… Y/N, I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[‘Brently. Brently. Brently.’]

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

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

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

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

You blink in surprise. “What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•°•°•��•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

“Yes, I am.”

“Is he doing better?”

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

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

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

“Page has Mr. Anatoly, Boss.” 

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

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

“Yes.” A grin. “Please.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

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

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then slams it hard.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over again.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which cards, if I may ask?” 

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

.

.

.

“We blame it on Daredevil.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

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

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

But why an innocent kid of all things? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but–”

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

“Frank–”

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

“Frank–”

“Please.”

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

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

You haven’t grown one bit since then.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

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

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

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

“Is it because of that missing kid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were going to be pissed off anyway.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

“Fuck. Off. 3асранец.” (*Asshole)

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Know what?”

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

The man paled. “O Боже…” (*Oh God…)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Calls?”

“Texts mostly.”

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

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

“Is it important?”

“Might be.”

“Might be?”

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

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

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

A brief pause. “No.”

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

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

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

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

“Right.” 

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

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

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

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

*Beep*

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

*Beep*

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

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

It really hurts.

This task… hits… close to home.

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

.

It was stupid mistake. 

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

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

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

No.

No you can’t.

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

Not on your fucking watch. However–

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

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

.

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

.

.

.

Tonight was going to be a long night for you.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ Feel better. ]

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

But of course… why would you?

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

The warehouse district.

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

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

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

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

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

You heard something rattle and roll behind you.

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

.

.

.

.

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

 A metal bar was sticking out from your abdomen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Messing with your fucking head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raises an eyebrow. “A rat?”

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

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

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

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

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

“One of them?” 

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

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

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

And those words were his signature for his own death. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when your whole world collapsed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

Wait…

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

So does that make Matt… an assassin? 

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

“Pretty much.” Matt said, proudly.

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

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

“Mr. Murdock–”

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

“Kill the rest.” 

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

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

.

.

.

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

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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

.

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

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

.

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

.

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

“Special? In what way?

.

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

.

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

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

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

.

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

The vase of roses.

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

.

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

You blink in surprise. “Really?”

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

“How come?”

.

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

.

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

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

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

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

.

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

The one that had their penmanship on the very bottom.

A perfect–

Perfect–

Match.

.

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

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

“Superpowered or not.”

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

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

.

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

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

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just…

.

.

.

.

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

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

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

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

@nkmblackhyuuga @nk1023 @queenofnigthdarkness

[vashsmunch]

In our solitary room

Millions Knives x Reader

Synopsis: you and nai are coworkers at a local music shop, but recently he's been acting strange

Warnings: none

A/N: i'm sorry y'all i'm having too much fun writing him, i'll write vash stuff later i swear

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

It started off with the little things.

Nai had never been a "nervous" person for as long as you'd known him. Maybe that wasn't a reliable timeframe because the two of you had only been coworkers for a few months, but you were good at reading people. You worked with him at a local music store that sold refurbished pianos, amongst other instruments. When you were on break, sometimes he would play songs for you as you quietly hummed along in your head.

He would choose this specific one that you could never place your finger on. It didn't sound like any of the classic pieces you would hear on the radio. His fingers would elegantly glide across the keys in a manner where the melody shouldn't have sounded anything but robotic. But instead, it was sweet and tender; you would almost believe it was a love song if it wasn't him playing it.

There were times when you felt like his friend, but acquaintances would be a better term. For the most part, he kept his emotions locked behind his signature deadpan stare, sometimes accompanied by a condescending smile. You had never really minded this, though. In fact, it just made it more fun to tease him. But recently, that facade of his had begun to show cracks.

First was the incessant tapping of his fingers against any and every surface whenever you were around. It didn't help that he had abnormally well-maintained hands, so his nails would make a repetitive clacking noise every time he would start.

"That's getting extremely annoying."

"So is you referring to me as Hundred Spoons for some ungodly reason, but I refrain from saying so."

After a few weeks of giving him death glares, he eventually stopped. However, it began to devolve into other things. Every time you went near him, he would tense up, quietly holding his breath. There came points where you had to physically shake him to exhale because he started to look faint. You would catch him staring at you from across the store on other days. Maybe he was just trying to tell you something? But whenever you met his gaze, he would turn around and walk in the opposite direction. What the hell was going on with him?

Eventually, you had enough. Nai was lazily skimming some sheet music when you stormed up to him, slamming your hands on the table he was at. He glared up at you, quirking an eyebrow in annoyance. "And to what do I owe the displeasure of having you making a ruckus?"

"Spit it out. Why are you so nervous around me?"

He scoffed, almost looking insulted that you suggested something so outlandish. "Exactly how did you come to that conclusion?"

"Whenever I'm near, you freeze on the spot. Every time I look at you, you're staring back with this dazed expression I can never decipher," You leaned down to look at him and watched him swallow hard. "Look, if I somehow made you uncomfortable, then tell me. We're coworkers, and sometimes we're even friends. I like being around you, so please just say it." Your words bordered on a plea, though you weren't sure why. It wasn't as if you enjoyed his company, the two of you were merely coworkers. At least, that's what you'd thought. But as you stared into his eyes, that was the moment you realized that maybe it wasn't all platonic.

Nai eventually sighed and stood up. As he walked past the table, he turned to look at you in annoyance. "Well? Are you going to follow me?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm coming," You rolled your eyes as he led you to the back of the store, where there were rehearsal rooms with donated instruments inside. This is where the two of you would spend your breaks, listening to each other practice. He opened the door to one of them and held it, waiting for you to enter first. "My my, what a gentleman." He suddenly let the door go, and you moved inside before it slammed shut on you. Dramatic bitch. He sat on the bench before the piano and looked at you expectantly. You joined him, and as your shoulders touched, a shiver ran up your spine. God, what was this feeling?

He inhaled softly before pressing on the keys, and you noticed he was playing that song he always did. You actually hadn't heard it in a while, so it was a pleasant surprise. There was an unspoken rule between you two that there would be absolute silence when either person was playing. At that moment, the only sounds were from the piano, which was how it had always been. It was times like these when you could just exist without worrying about anything else. Being with Nai allowed you that comfort, a luxury you weren't used to. You and him, doing what you both loved the most.

As he finished, you turned towards him, smiling happily. "You haven't played that in a while. It's my favorite, so thank you," He nodded curtly, and you swung your feet as both of you stayed seated. But there was still something on your mind. "This doesn't answer my question, though. Why are you so afraid to be around me?"

Nai stared at the keys, refusing to meet your eyes. After a few moments, he finally said, "You said you liked this song, yes?" You nodded, and he brought out the sheet music he was reading earlier. Where had he been hiding that? He held it out for you to take, and your eyes glazed over the stanzas. They weren't special, but you flipped through the pages regardless. As you got to the last one, you noticed some words written on the bottom.

For the one I could never say it to.

You looked up, turning your head to look at Nai. He stared back, waiting for your reaction. "What does this mean?"

He sighed, exasperated. "You were acting so arrogant earlier; I thought you'd be smarter than this," He took your cheek in his hand, making you go bug-eyed as you stared at him, jaw slacked. What?? Okay, you had to admit, he was an enigma. But even this was completely unexpected. "I composed the song. I always played it around you because I made it for you. You were correct; being around you made me extremely tense. But it's because I feel things I've never felt before when I'm in your presence. As bothersome and aggravating as you are, you are also everything I've been looking for. Before you came, I was stumbling around in the dark, entirely lost in my head. But now I can see something shining brightly, and it's you. It always has been. I want you to be mine because you are the star I followed to bring me to paradise. I refuse to see you with anyone else because I simply couldn't bear it. I'm in love with you. And more than anything, I want you to feel the same." There was a brief pause before he finally leaned in and kissed you. In that solitary room, hidden from customers and the world itself. And it was nothing short of magical.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

3rd chapter for my own little self indulgent original writing.

Still nothing polished, just first draft stuff to get the ideas out of my head

The first two chapters can be founded in my pinned post, but as another reminder it’s still a depiction of a wildly unbalanced power dynamic, manipulation, and whatnot

But dead dove, do not eat.

Forced consent/dub-con, intentionally harmful sex, and if you’re reading this I’m assuming you’ve read the other chapters and know how the main characters are

The air smelled of fresh foods being cooked and hawked by the local merchants, the market busy as always while you made your way through the narrow twisting roads between the council building and your own home. It was not an exciting or glamorous life, but it was predictable and steady.

Life had not always been easy, but at least now it was pretty good. You had enough money to keep yourself a float and even afford little trinkets and luxuries once in a while. Your clothing was not fancy, but still had little details and embellishments that years ago you would have never thought you could buy. You no longer worried about having enough to eat, it often was nothing fancy but filling and tasty enough.

As you walked down the winding roads you mused on how one short encounter lifted you up from barely scraping by singing in rundown taverns to routinely preforming for the council. Just a chance encounter with staff attendant and an offer to sing in front of the council as they looked for performers for an event.

It had gone better than expected, you preformed at many events and were paid fairly well for your work. There were sometimes long gaps in between work for them, but with your new reputation you found you were now being invited to preform in the much nicer taverns in High Town instead of being relegated to the lower city.

There was a spring in your step, with the money you had gotten today you were fairly certain you had saved enough for a hair piece you had been eyeing. A merchant situated just on the cusp of High Town had started selling beautiful hair sticks the other week. Nothing as ornate as the denizens who lived in High Town would be wearing, no precious stones, but the metals there were shaped so intricately, doted with common but still colorful stones. In particular you had been eyeing one whose long brained stick ended with a flower and a bird spreading its wings in flight. It was not luxurious enough to be real gold, but the craftsman had done an excellent job of mimicking it, and if your math was correct then tomorrow it would be yours.

While lost in your thoughts the walk home felt shorter than usual, a pleasant surreality seemed to cling to everything that you dismissed as just your current happiness making everything else around feel a little soft around the edges. The door to your small home swung open with a gentle touch and you busied yourself setting down your things, humming to yourself and thinking how you would spend you free time tomorrow. First you would head straight to the market to buy the hair stick, then wander and find something to eat, and the trees in the square were in bloom this time of year so maybe after you would take a walk to see them?

Before anything else though you wanted to change into something comfier, you turned from the counter where you had been organizing and putting your belongings away and nearly jumped out of your skin as you noticed the figure seated at your table. In the dim lighting you could not make out many features, only the imposing size and two unnatural gold eyes.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you, my little pet”.

You shot up in bed, gulping down deep breaths of air as you tried to steady your heart rate, cursing under your breath that even in your dreams you had no reprieve.

“What are you doing?” came a groggy voice next to you. His eyes were barely cracked opened and his brow furrowed together in annoyance of being suddenly awoken early in the morning, clearly someone was not a morning person.

“Lay back down, I’m not ready for you yet” he pulled you back down on the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he laid on his side so that your back was to his chest. “You do not have to sleep, but you will remain in bed with me until I decide to get up for the day”.

Revulsion coiled through your body as he ran his fingers down your side, his hand coming to rest just below your hip and his fingers tracing circles on your inner thigh.

“Answer me so I know you heard me”.

“Yes, my king” your voice was small, doing everything you could to quell your nerves and not flinch at his touch.

“And what are you to do?”

“I will lay with you until you get up, my king”.

A low hum of approval from his vibrated against your back, “Good girl. And see? This isn’t so bad. You slept peacefully in my arms all night, even nuzzling into my neck a few times while you slept. Deep down you enjoy this, don’t you? Being desired like this. You don’t have to say anything, I know you like this, you just need to embrace it”.

His other hand closed around your neck, not enough pressure to restrict your breathing or harm you, but a message all the same. “All mine to be used and played with. No worries or concerns in that pretty little head, just your devotion and desire for me”.

“I feel you squirming now, is it because you know I’m right? Because you, just a little mortal human, have been elevated to such a lofty position? That you, and you alone, sleep with your king? Surely that must feel good, to be chosen like that”.

Firmly, he pulled your hips back against him, “But on second thought, maybe I don’t want to go back to sleep quite yet now after all, why waste this time to bond if you’re already awake? Especially with how good you feel against me like this” his hand slipped lower, between your thighs, “Let me show you how good I can make you feel. Let me toy with you until you beg me to fuck you”.

With warm, deft hands his thumb found your clit and you shuddered. It was a horrid, involuntary response that only seemed to spur him on. He settled into a steady rhythm, using a gentle pressure on you to rub circles.

Your breath hitched and you hated how good it felt, how he clearly knew what he was doing. His other hand left your throat to wander down and cup your breast, alternating squeezing it and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

A moan left your lips, you could not help it.

“That’s it, my little song bird. There’s so much I can offer you; pleasure, safety, a comfortable life. Now that you’ve accepted this you could be so happy at my side if you fully embrace it. You could be the center of attention, sitting on my lap in front of everyone, constantly doted on and being the only one to receive my attention”.

‘What’s the harm of just letting go?’ echoed a small voice in you mind, a voice you wanted to squash down. ‘It would be so easy to just surrender fully. Is there really another option?’ There was not much of a choice, either play your role or at best it was likely imprisonment, at worse? You did not want to think of it.

Maybe someone stronger would have resisted, or someone with more pride. Someone who would rather embrace their possible death than be treated like this.

But that was not you. The thought of death or imprisonment terrified you, even more so than submitting to the Dragon King did.

With deep breaths you willed some of the tension you were carrying away, unclenching your jaw and shoulders and drumming up the courage to fully take the plunge. Before you could talk yourself out of it you rolled onto your back and parted your legs a bit, giving him the access to you he sought.

“Oh!” his face lit up in genuine surprise, “I was not expecting you to relax so quickly, I- I-“ he drew a deep breath to compose himself, “I want you to enjoy this, to enjoy me. I do truly mean that”.

It was difficult to read his expression, his eyes inscrutable as ever, but what you thought you might have saw was a certain softness. Not the bravado of the past day, or cocky confidence, but an almost human sort of tenderness if he was even capable of such a thing.

Here now, resting in the bed of a king, after the most harrowing ordeal of your life, a new chapter began.

The following kiss was hungry against your mouth. He quickly parted your lips with his tongue and wasted no time exploring every inch he could.

A finger slid between your folds, teasing at your entrance while he continued his steady attention on your clit.

“So wet already” he murmured into your mouth, barely breaking the kiss.

He entered you agonizingly slowly with a single finger, taking his time and drawing out your reaction.

Being with someone was nothing new to you, but everything now was a strange new experience. The softness of the blankets under your bare skin, the opulence of your surroundings, and the very nature of the man you were laying with were all coming together to form a strange new experience for something normally so familiar.

“Ohhh” you moaned into his mouth as his finger stroked a particularly sensitive spot in you.

“There you go, my little song bird, sing for me”. He slid a second finger into you and slowly began to work you open, gently spreading his two fingers apart, preparing you to take him.

Unsure what to do with your hands you balled them into the blankets. With anyone else you would have wrapped your fingers into their hair or clung to their body, but something about that did not feel right here. Your squirmed under his careful touch. He maintained a slow and steady pace, focusing on precise and careful movements over anything else. You rolled your hips up against his hand, seeking more friction as you felt your release building.

“Are you close already?” he asked.

“Yes” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Yes, my king”.

“Good” he swiftly removed his hand from you.

“What-“ you began before he cut you off.

“I do not want your first time with me to be on my hand, come here” he rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him, your legs straddling his hips and his cock resting just between your thighs. “I want to see your face while you realize I’m better than any partner you’ve ever had, that moment of bliss when you truly understand how good it feels to be fucked by you king. Despite your actions I know part of you still resists me, don’t think I haven’t noticed, and I want to see the moment that last little bit of defiance finally snaps and you give in to me entirely”.

Your face was white hot, it was one thing when your back was to him and you did not have to see how he looked at you, but this was too much. Having to play an active part in his conquest instead of laying back and just letting it happen was more than you could stand.

“What is with that face, my pet? Is this not a generous offer? I am giving you a very rare gift, letting you decided how long this will last. You can drag this out as long as you want, or not. I won’t even hold you responsible for my pleasure, no, I just want you to enjoy yourself upon your king’s cock this time”.

“And then,” his voice dropped to a growl, “I will claim you as I see fit. My pretty little pet will know the joy, the honor, of satisfying me and being made mine”.

You stared at him, frozen, just wanting to get things over with but unable to start. Hesitantly you rose up on your knees to position yourself and tried to look anywhere but at his face. You reached down to guide him in as you lowered yourself onto him, his tip pressed against your entrance for just a moment while you gathered yourself before sinking down and accepting his first few inches.

Nothing could have prepared you for this. You knew he was much more than you were used to, even when you tried to look away last night when you undressed him you still got a good glance at him, more than enough to know that it would be a struggle.

Your whole body heaved from the intrusion, forcing you to brace your hands against his chest. He was stretching you much more than you had ever felt before, nearly equal parts pleasure and pain as you struggled to adjust to him.

“Gods, you’re still so fucking tight” he moaned, “You were so ready to finish with just two fingers, will you even be able to take it all before you cum?”

You did your best to block his words out, only focusing on remembering how to breathe. It felt incredible though, hurting in a good way as he forced you open.

His fingers returned to your clit, rubbing the same gentle circles as before, “Let me help you relax, I want to watch you sink down and take it all and hear all those pretty little mewls you’ll make. Wouldn’t it feel so good to test your limits like that?”

Slowly you took another few inches until you felt his tip press into your cervix, it was as far as you could go. You were nearly gasping for air, between how deep you felt him in you and how much he was stretching you. Such an intensity you did not know was possible.

“You look so beautiful like that, so overwhelmed and helpless, trying to be such a good girl for me, but I know you can keep going. You don’t want to stop here, not when there’s only a few inches left, do you?” he cooed at you, though it sounded like he was struggling to maintain his composure too.

“I can’t” you pleaded with him.

“Shhhhhh, just try for me”.

Slowly you attempted to lower yourself farther, his tip jabbed into you more, going past the level of pleasurable pain.

“Almost there little one. I know it must hurt, but you’re so close” his free hand dug into you hip, slowly pushing you down on him, not giving you an option.

“See? Look what you’re capable of, you’re such a good little thing to let me bury myself in you like this”.

“It hurts” your eyes watered, tears threatening to roll down your face, but his grip on your hip did not loosen.

“I’m sure it does, but let me show you how good you can feel like this anyways”. He rolled his hips against you, pressing himself in as far as possible before pulling back to give you a bit of reprieve, though his cock stayed pressed against your cervix the whole time, fluctuating between a bearable pain and a near blinding pain. His pace and pressure on your clit increased, making you feel overstimulated and every touch sent lightning racing through your nerves.

“Just focus on the good, how my fingers feel on your clit, how it it feels to be stretched around me. It’s all the same feelings you mewled over before, I’ve just added one other thing, just block it out. I feel that you’re close, the way you clench around me. Let go and enjoy this”.

“You said you’d be gentle” you managed, trying to hold back tears.

“Oh my sweet, this is very gentle. I used my fingers to warm you up, let you go at your own pace until you needed a little help, I’ve been oh so softly rubbing your clit this whole time. And now you’re so close to your end, and here I am still helping you finish before me”.

The pleasure was starting to drown out the pain. The pain was not receding but instead your own building release was growing louder in your mind and between your legs, making the feeling of him so deep inside you easier to ignore.

“I don’t often care about others’ pleasure, but for you? I want to see how beautiful you look finding your release on my cock, the sweet sounds you’ll make, but your pleasure still comes on my terms. I want you to understand that I can give you great pleasures here at my side: beautiful clothes and jewels, exquisite foods, any hobby you’ve ever wished to learn, anything you want, as you always obey me. There will not be one without the other” his words came between ragged breaths, he was coming undone just as fast as you it seemed.

His words were only barely reaching you, you were so close to bliss you could not focus on anything else.

“I-I, ohhh” you moaned the waves of your orgasm hit you hard. You heaved forwards, leaning onto his chest more until you were flush against him, gasping and sighing as he continued to rub your overstimulated clit, drawing out your pleasure farther.

Even after the initial rush started to fade you still felt yourself clenching around him, tingles still diffusing throughout your body as he wrapped his arms around your middle to hold you against him and thrust into you.

“Gods, you feel incredible. I need to feel your lips on mine, I need to feel all of you”.

You caught his mouth in a desperate kiss and you were leaning into the kiss and desiring him as much as he desired you. He moaned in your mouth, panting, struggling to even kiss you back as he got lost in his own pleasure.

For the first time in the last day you felt power. How lost in everything he was now, how he was scarcely aware of anything else, how now in your clarity you saw him at his weakest. The mighty Dragon King, not claiming you in some powerful, dominant way, but asking for a kiss and holding you closely, face to face, almost on equal footing if only for a moment.

It was not some mighty roar, or even anything loud, his moans were soft and getting caught in his throat. You felt the warmth flood into you as he found his own release, his cock twitching with each spurt and you felt his cum dripping down your thighs even with how tightly plugged you felt by him.

“I-“ he began, struggling and panting for air, “I was not expecting that”.

There was something borderline sweet about his expression, it was the first time you saw him not entirely in control of the moment, the first time he just seemed relaxed.

You nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his scent and feeling his pulse on your lips as you kissed up and down from his ear to shoulder. Maybe it was just the afterglow from your orgasm, but you were enjoying the way he was softly stroking your back, just the feeling of staying entwined after sex, enjoying his touch for the first time.

“I didn’t expect that” he repeated.

“Didn’t expect what?” you asked.

“Getting caught up in everything so much. I couldn’t bring myself to pause for even a moment to move you into a position that’s a bit more, uh… natural for me”.

“Natural?”

“Yes. Natural. Do not forget that this isn’t really me, not completely anyways. What I had intended was to flip you over, yank your hips up in the air, and take you on your hands and knees, or at least bend you over the table, something a bit more familiar for me”.

It dawned on you what he meant, a position better suited for dragons.

“No matter,” he waved his hand dismissively, “there will be countless other times to fuck you in a manner more appropriate for myself”.

Whatever softness he had shown you for a moment while you laid together was already gone, he was back to himself.

“You will accompany me for breakfast, then around the palace grounds so that I may show you around your new home, and also show you off”.

You nodded against his neck, too tired and sore to continue speaking, especially as he was back to himself and the less conversation with him the better in that case.

“You will use your words and manners to answer me. I was willing to let it slide earlier since you were clearly overwhelmed. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect a sweet, simple little thing like you possibly think straight after being fucked like that, your thoughts all scrambled up in that pretty little head of yours”.

“Yes, my king” you replied, any bit of quasi-affection you may have felt towards him gone.

“As my tailor has still not dropped off anything for you to wear, you’ll wear one of my shirts for now, it should be long enough you” he shifted you off his chest so he could get up.

As usual he moved with unnaturally light footsteps, crossing the room in a few long, quiet strides to retrieve a shirt for you and toss it your way.

“Get dressed quickly, there is much to do today. And no need to clean up”.

The material of the shirt felt like water on your hands, soft and flowing, much nicer anything you had certainly ever worn. It came down to your mid thighs, long enough to cover you but not well if you moved much.

His eyes never left you as you dressed, his head tilted slightly as he watched you fumble with the buttons.

“I will say,” he began, “seeing you in my shirt, in my bed, with my cum still dripping down your thighs, still all flush is most definitely doing a lot for me. Makes me want to fuck you again right now, though I do suppose you’ve earned a treat with how good you were for me. We’ll have a nice breakfast together and spend the morning, just the two of us, touring my palace. How does that sound, my pet?”

“Very good, my king”.

“Come, help me dress” he beckoned.

Your thighs ached from how long you straddled him, and deep in your core you were tense and tender feeling from him. You swung your legs of the bed, unfortunately for you they gave out immediately as you tried to stand, toppling you onto the floor.

“Ok” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression somewhere between pained and annoyed. “You have the muscle tone and stamina of a noodle, great. Can you stand at all?”

You forced your legs under you, grappling at the bed post for support so you would not fall again.

“Fantastic, I suppose you won’t be walking to breakfast then” he turned from you and began to dress, dark pants and a dark shirt, the v-shape of the collar loosely laced closed.

Without a word he returned to where you attempted to stand and swept you up into his arms, “We will work on your stamina and muscle strength, you may be my little pet but I will not be carrying you all the time”.

You squirmed in his arms, trying to yank the shirt down to cover your rear as it rode up.

“That doesn’t matter” he said flatly, “the whole court saw you naked yesterday anyway. And half the royal guard was there when Alondis stripped you down, though don’t hold that personally against him. If anything you should honestly thank him, I ordered him to bring you to me naked but he’s got a soft heart and gave you his cloak”.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in your perplexed look. Truth be told, you had blocked out almost everything yesterday between being escorted from the carriage to right before you reached the throne room.

“You really don’t remember, do you? You did look quite terrified when you stood before me, no room for other thoughts, hmm? I’m am not surprised you don’t remember his face either. No matter”.

You buried your face in his chest as he carried you out of the room, not wanting to meet eyes with anyone you pass in your way down to eat. You did not want to think how many people in this palace had seen you naked.

[fedzkun]

All Might,

I heard from a certain birdie that you opened application to become someone's dad and I am not surprised you would want to replace the perfectly good son you replaced because his quirk wasn't good enough.

So I am going to nominate your freaking son, in the hope that it sticks.

He is absolutely feral and not even the local Symbol of Evil can contain him so we are now counting on the Symbol of Peace.

He already has his own organization of vigilantes so he is ambitious and has a good sense of organization. I am pretty sure that if you put him in a hero school, he will become number 1 hero in two years tops. (The HPSC might not make it, though.)

He stole some shit from you? I am not sure about that part but I definitely heard Yami and his best friend talk about it at night, since those little demons keep invading my apartment.

You're probably already paying the child support so you could as well take him in.

If you enjoy a challenge, he is feral, he bites, and he will definitely fight back, so you're welcome. If you enjoy DEATH, I advise you to try taking his coffee from him.

If you don't care about challenge and you want a hypocritical story where you're one of those dads who do stuff for their children' own good and who want to rescue them from themselves, Yami has a pretty impressive caffeine addiction. Try doing something about that. But preferably outside of Japan. I live here, I don't want to watch it sink.

If you want the perfect successor (you probably do because I know your type), congratulations! Your son managed to acquire other quirks! We're not sure where because the only guy who can give quirks swears up and down that they are not coming from him. My... The annoyance in my life and I believe that Yami is stealing quirks from the Symbol of Evil in his sleep.

Honestly, the only reason why I am writing to you is because Yami ate the last chocolate donut and told me "What are you going to do about it?"

Here is where you can find him.

With no respect whatsoever,

Dabi, from Anyone

To Mr. Dabi,

I must insist that your accusations regarding my abandonment of a ‘perfectly good son’—apparently one named Yami—confuse me. To my knowledge, I haven’t become the father/honorary father of anyone who’ve went by such charming name.

In any case, the issue at hand seems to be that you’re attempting to get me to become this Yami’s father/honorary father. In which, as provided, my requirements for me to accept someone as my honorary adopted person are: (1) must be a Midoriya Izuku fan, OR (2) must at least agree that Midoriya Izuku is a true hero, OR (3) must be Midoriya Izuku. None of your statements illustrate what Yami’s opinions are on Midoriya Izuku, and the application would’ve been denied on principle for not complying with (1) or (2).

However, I admit that there is merit when it comes to its potential compliance with the third requisite, as some described characteristics reminds me strongly of Midoriya Izuku.

He is absolutely feral and not even the local Symbol of Evil can contain him so we are now counting on the Symbol of Peace. (My Midoriya Izuku is absolutely feral as well, and there was a time when not even my bentos could keep him with me. I’m alarmed, however, that the Yami has come into contact with the Symbol of Evil, though based on your wording, said Symbol of Evil seems to be no match for Yami. Midoriya Izuku, too, outmatches S.O.E.)

He already has his own organization of vigilantes so he is ambitious and has a good sense of organization. I am pretty sure that if you put him in a hero school, he will become number 1 hero in two years tops. (My Midoriya Izuku went vigilanting many times. And he is very organized, always filling his lovely notebooks. He himself is in a hero school and doing supremely well! I’m helping by always providing A+’s)

If you enjoy a challenge, he is feral, he bites, and he will definitely fight back, so you're welcome. If you enjoy DEATH, I advise you to try taking his coffee from him. (What a coincidence! Midoriya Izuku enjoys a challenge, is feral, bites, and will definitely fight back! Yami is proving to be quite someone worthy of being called a ‘Midoriya Izuku’ himself at this point. Furthermore, both of them share a deep obsession with coffees…)

The annoyance in my life and I believe that Yami is stealing quirks from the Symbol of Evil in his sleep. (While the initial anxious thought is that there exists another Quirk-stealing Quirk out there, it would be hypocritical of me to not think positively of someone attempting to use it as a fight method against the S.O.E. Indeed, my Young Midoriya has managed to steal that same Quirk in the final battle through the sheer might and power of his stockpiling one.)

In the foregoing, I’d like to inform you that Yami will pass requisite (3). I’m willing to bend the rules as he is a Midoriya Izuku to me.

Please know I will not tolerate coercion, and anyone is at liberty to apply or to refuse to be honorarily adopted by me. Should there be a change of heart for Yami, the application papers are ready.

[gamecrash716]

Discount (Pt 1)

Ships:

Kade Burns/Myles

Cody Burns/Priscilla Pynch

Kade walked into the kitchen, chuckling to himself about the sweet deal he got at the local diner. Little did he know it would come back to bite him.

Cody was daydreaming while eating cereal, Dani was attempting to make herself breakfast, Graham was making toast, and Charlie was sipping coffee while reading the newspaper.

"Mornin family," Kade said. "You're a bit late today," Graham said. Kade scoffed, "I needed some extra beauty sleep." Dani rolled his eyes at Kade's comment, and Charlie chuckled at it and continued reading. Then he read something that made him almost spit out his coffee. It took everyone by surprise by the action and got Cody out of his daydream.

"Uh, dad, is everything okay?" Cody asked. Charlie cleared his throat, "Just the news, son," "A rumor that's been going around the town for a few weeks ago." Dani raised an eyebrow, "What rumor?" If it was so bad that Charlie almost spat out his coffee, Dani wants in on the gossip. "Let me see," Dani said, and Charlie handed over the newspaper. "What does it say?" Graham asked.

"Ex-Theif Turned Rich Girl's Babysitter Is Possibly Dating the Oldest Burns!"

The four family members turn to look at Kade. His face was almost red as a fire hydrant. Charlie and Graham were in disbelief, Dani could see it happening, and Cody was mad and glared at Kade. "So it's okay for you to tease me for crushing on Priscilla, but you're outright dating her babysitter." Cody sneered. He knew his brother could be a bit of a hypocrite at times, but these are the few times where it genuinely made him mad. "You definitely don't wanna see the pictures then," Dani said.

"PICTURES?!"

Dani put the newspaper on the table and opened it, showing the "dates" of Myles and Kade. Everyone looked at Kade for a response. "I need to make a call real quick." Kade said as he dashed to his room and closed the door. He frantically dialed Myles' number, hoping it would answer.

M-Myles

K-Kade

P-Priscilla

(I absolutely suck at writing phone call dialog, so it'll be like this until then)

M: Yeah? K: Have you read the newspaper? M: No, why? None of us even really read that stuff. Only Madeline does. K: Remember how we would go to the diner and fake being a couple for their discounts. M: Dear god. What is on the paper? K: There's been a rumor going around that we actually are and my family knows. M: Let me guess, Cody's been giving you the stink eye ever since K: I didn't know people would think we're dating! And with Cody, it's not that bad. M: Dude, you bullied your younger brother for crushing on Priscilla, the daughter of a criminal. And he thinks you're dating me, an actual criminal. M: Of course he's going to be mad at you. P: He has a crush on me? M: Uhh P: Does he? K: Who are you talking to? M: *whisper* Priscilla heard me, Kade. She knows about the crush K: Why does that matter? M: *whisper* She likes him back! K: OH! Uh, gotta go train!

Myles looked at the hung up phone in annoyance. 'That explains why people kept looking at me weirdly,' He thought and turned to look back at Priscilla. She was giving puppy dog eyes. Now, most of the time, this wouldn't work on him. However, the feelings are mutual. He couldn't lie about and break Priscilla's heart. Myles sighed, wanting to to avoid the question. Luckily, his twin opened the door. "Hey there's a carnival going on tonight," Evans said, "Do you want to go there Priscilla?" "Myles, can you call Kade and tell Cody I'm going?" Priscilla asked. Myles sighed, "Yeah, I will." 'Just need to make sure that idiot didn't do anything stupid,' He thought.

-Back at the Fire House-

Cody was continuing to give Kade glares. Kade, obviously, ignored it. The bots wanted to know why, mainly Heatwave. Blades went to ask Dani, she always knows. "Hey Dani, what's with Cody?" Blades asked. "And what did Kade do?" Heatwave asked, giving Kade a harsh side eye and ready to spray him with water. Dani whispered to Blades and he was shocked and audibly gasped. "What is it?" Boulder asked. "You're dating Myles?!" Blades shouted. "N-No, the press just makes it seem like it," Kade tried to explain. "Kade, why would you associate with a criminal that we have arrested multiple times?" Chase asked. "Would you believe me I told you?" Kade asked. Everyone gained interest.

"Look, a few weeks ago, there was a couples discount at the local diner," "I didn't have enough money for the normal amount and Myles was near by so I asked him for us to pose as a couple so I could get the discount." "He agreed, so we ordered and sat away from everyone else." "We did this multiple times when the had the discount was in place and I guess people though we were dating because how close we tend to get at times..." "We got really close some nights..."

After hearing Kade's explanation, everyone had various reactions to this. "So people think you two are dating because you wanted a discount?" Graham asked. "Yup, and it worked." Kade said proudly, "I guess we got too convincing." "Why am I not surprised," Dani said, "I should've expected that you'd be the type to do it."

"So why is Cody so upset about it?" Boulder asked. "You mind if I tell them?" Dani asked. "No," Cody responded. "Alright, Cody likes Priscilla and he's upset about it." Dani said. "Wait, you do?" Blades asked. Cody nodded. "Myles did chew me out about it over the phone considering Priscilla likes you b-" Kade covered his mouth before he could finish the sentence but it was already to late. "She likes me?" Cody asked. Kade sighed, "Yeah, he did tell me because Priscilla over heard everything and he may have told her about your crush." There was a tinge of pink growing on Cody's face.

Part 2 will be coming soon

[aiwokure]

Day 2 - Frozen Lake

Nico Robin x F!Reader

Desc: Young!Robin convinces Young![y/n] to try ice skating for the first time. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

WC: 1.1k

CW: Robin and Reader are around 18-19 years old, slightly toxic relationship, death mentions, slightly suggestive ending

continuation of this: [click here]

other december writing challenge fics [click here]

banner by @/cafekitsune

Snow sprinkled down on the island and chattering voices could be heard from every crevice. Robin, currently wearing sunglasses and an aviator hat, is awestruck by the winter wonderland. [y/n] could sense her partner’s growing excitement, mainly due to the fact that she’s become nonreactive. “Hello? Doctor? We have an unresponsive patient here under the name of Nico Robin. Permission to restrict smooches?”

The dark haired woman shoots [y/n] a slightly annoyed look, unlacing their fingers so that she can cross her arms. “Oh, like it’s such a crime to take in the scenery. I was just making sure it’s safe, that’s all.” She lies with ease, lips pursed in faux disapproval. “Uh huh, sure. Let’s go find someplace to stay, then we can look around and do whateverrr you want.” [y/n] is quick to socialize with the locals, she’s always been the better one between her and Robin.

In their spare time together, the mercenary forces Robin to take “classes” on bargaining. Unfortunately, [y/n] isn’t a good teacher, her temper gets the best of her when Robin continues to make mistakes. However when she finally gets it right, the reward makes the archaeologist feel nice and warm inside. “Stay here, I’ll see what I can get us.” [y/n] enters the inn, after giving her instruction, leaving Robin to take in her environment.

Kids running around with cold noses playing in the snow, adults sitting in sheltered areas sharing warm drinks (possibly alcohol by how rambunctious they’re getting), and oh, young lovers skating together on a frozen lake, all smiles and giggles. Envy threatened to bubble up in her heart, [y/n] is not exactly a lover of winter activities, she would never agree to something like ice skating.

Click!

A light bulb goes off as bright as a summer’s sun in Robin’s brain, and about five minutes later, [y/n] exits with a satisfied smile. “We’re sharing a suite. It comes with a kitchen, so we can prepare some meals for when we’re back at sea.” Robin was less interested in the room and more interested at the thought of going ice skating. She hasn’t been in such a long time, it would bring her so much inner joy to experience it once more, even if it’s only for a few seconds.

“[y/n], let’s go ice skating.” The [h/c] woman gives her a confused glance. “Can’t you just go by yourself? I’ll have the suite set up and dinner made when you come back.” Robin huffs, grabbing some of the luggage before spinning around to return the look with an unwavering stare. “How about I help you set up, we go ice skating, then make dinner together?” [y/n] can feel the confusion quickly churn into annoyance at her partner’s insistence.

“What the hell are you going on about? You know I don’t do stuff like that.”

“You said we can do, quote ‘whateverrr you want’, I want to go ice skating with you. Just for a few minutes! It’s rare that we get the chance to be normal like this, don’t you want to cherish it? After this I won’t ask for anything else, I promise.” Robin begins to plead, her grip tightening on the luggage the more passionate that she got.

[y/n] hesitates, it’s even more rare for the archaeologist to get so worked up about something so menial. She heaves a big sigh, willing her annoyance to go away. She is, after all, a woman of her word.

“Fine, only a few minutes. Now let’s get this inside.” Seeing Robin’s face glow with joy made [y/n] feel guilty about being rough with her, but it also made her crave seeing it more often.

“You can hold onto me, I’ll make sure that you don’t fall. You have to activate your core! Don’t put too much pressure on your ankles or they’ll be achy later.” Robin spouts instructions and advice with rapid fire, hovering near [y/n] as she wobbles warily on the icy floor. “Please stop talking,” the mercenary grunts, gripping the rails with startling strength. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t- the raven haired woman repeats like a mantra in her head.

The confident and skillful [y/n] is shaking like a newborn fawn on nature’s ice rink. It’s certainly something the locals got a chuckle out of. A little boy skates by smoothly, spinning around to look at the duo. “Big sis, did you know that last year someone fell and they broke the ice, so everyone had to leave the lake, but some people didn’t move fast enough, and they fell in, so my daddy jumped in to re-resc-rescue them, and he almost died.”

He sighs sympathetically at the end of his story, lips down turned at the memory. “Oh yeah?” [y/n] grits out, more focused on regaining balance than some random brat. “Yeah…” the boy confirms, shoulders drooping before he perks back up. “So don’t fall okay? I still have to ask Jayce to be my friend!” Robin couldn’t help the laughter that built up in the back of her throat.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her so that you can befriend Jayce.” She chuckles while consoling the young boy, her arm was wrapped snugly around [y/n]’s waist. “Oversharing is a child’s specialty, no?” Robin looks over at her partner, an amused yet adoring grin on her lips. “Whatever, let’s just get off this ice so his dear daddy doesn’t die for real.” The mercenary’s teeth were faintly chattering, ears and nose stinging from the cold.

“Thank you for doing this with me. I appreciate it a lot.” Robin swoops in to place a warm kiss on [y/n]’s forehead, but in that moment, someone crashed into her. A yelp escapes her lips, as does her balance as she leans heavily into the [h/c] haired woman, who didn’t have any to begin with. They land roughly on the ice in a jumbled pile, Robin’s face flush against [y/n]’s chest. “Fuckin’ hell!”

Robin gently rubs the back of [y/n]’s head, the ice pack resting on the counter. “M’sorry… I was feeling nostalgic when I saw the rink and I wanted to experience that joy again with the person I like.” The raven haired woman confesses, tucking herself under her partner’s chin. She could feel the vibration of [y/n] humming in acknowledgment. They laid tangled up amongst each other on the couch, Robin currently being the little spoon.

“It’s okay, it was kinda fun I guess.” [y/n] responds before repositioning herself to hover above the archaeologist. “I liked seeing you in your element. Sorry for being a bit of a hardass earlier today.” She places a loving kiss on the tip of Robin’s nose, then another on her lips, her hand starting to creep up Robin’s sweater. “Let me make it up to you?” [y/n] asks seductively, shifting down so that she was between the dark haired woman’s legs.

Her hand gently caressed Robin’s lower tummy, triggering a swarm of butterflies as well as a feeling of longing. The archaeologist flushed a beautiful red, sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth. “Okay.”

[imaginesbymk]

RESERVOIR DOGS PREFERENCE

FINDING OUT YOU HAVE A MINIMUM WAGE JOB

Characters: Mr. White (Larry), Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke), Mr. Blonde (Vic Vega), Mr. Pink, Mr. Brown + “Nice Guy” Eddie 

Tags: —

Taglist: @locke-writes​ & @aryn-the-bearheart​

A/N: something lighthearted and random! enjoy and leave a like/reblog/feedback <33 ^.^

MR. WHITE ( LARRY ) —

Mr. White seeing you bagging groceries wearing a bright vest with your name on it is just so unimaginable.

He makes your job easier by helping you bag his own groceries (even tho nowadays in most stores you have to do it yourself?)

“Your manager’s paying you well, right?”

“Larry, this is Wal-Mart. I don’t get paid enough to bag people’s odd choice for frozen dinners and tennis shoes.”

He swears not to tell a soul. But he visits you at work because he needs to go to the store every week.

MR. ORANGE ( FREDDY NEWANDYKE ) —

Mr. Orange notices you as the new sales associate at the comic book store.

You’re stocking merchandise on the top shelves, using the ladders.

“Y/N?” He calls you down. You froze, fearing the worst for all retailers, seeing someone you know at your own workplace is so embarrassing.

He doesn’t care at all, though. He’s just looking for the limited edition of the action figures he wanted. 

Probably wants you to smuggle him a lifelong supply of Marvel stuff from the back.

Orange makes a smug look when he’s at the counter. 

MR. BLONDE ( VIC VEGA ) —

The thing is, Blonde KNOWS you work at Big Kahuna, and becomes a total dick when you serve him.

It’s literally Squilliam making fun of Squidward for working at the Krusty Krab.

“I asked for no onions and tomatoes in my burger.”

“Wow, Vic. You’re a convict and a picky-eater. Grow up.”

Big Kahuna is one of his go-tos, so you don’t have much of a choice but to serve him food.

MR. PINK —

Of course... you’re a server at a restaurant

He’s just making fun of you, literally treats you the way a snobby customer treats their server.

“Whatever. What do you want? We’re serving the lunch special.”

Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention across the room

You threaten to spit in his food if he makes one more joke, and you mean it.

“Pink, I told you. We don’t serve those here.”

He doesn’t tip. 

MR. BROWN —

You work at the local Blockbuster.

"Hey, where’s the Spaghetti western movies?" You turn around and see Mr. Brown at the front desk.

Both your jaws are on the floor, staring at each other in pure shock.

He can’t stop giggling at you now, much to your annoyance.

It’s a good thing you know enough about your job and where everything is, so every time Brown comes in the store he always comes to you for movies he wants to rent, and you would put it on the store TV and watch it with him

“NICE GUY” EDDIE CABOT —

Eddie seeing you at the dry cleaners when he has to get all the suits ready was a big surprise for him.

“I don’t believe it. From a distance, I was thinking to myself, ‘Hey, that mf kinda looks like y/n’, and lo and behold!”

He uses this to his advantage, though. He wants his, his Dad’s and the people his dad recruits’s clothes clean and tailored to a T.

You’re gonna be his go-to for clean suits from now on.

Would come in, cheerily calling for you or greeting you.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

"A little help"

Another tentative attempt to start writing DST fics, because why not.

_________________________________________

"Stars and atoms! You don't look so good, my dear friend."

"Not so good" was putting it mildly...

Usually the Curio Collector always greeted Wilson and the other survivors in the Trading Inn with a loud, bass voice, waving his arms in anticipation of what they had brought him again to exchange for something worthwhile and stylish. Now the poor man couldn't even get up from the stump to shake the gentleman scientist's hand properly. Any movement gave him a sharp pain that travelled through his whole body. It felt like a herd of Beefalos had walked over him!

Ah, right, that's pretty much how it was...

The Constant current ruler only knows why in the world an obscure bone with an eye fell out of the sky right on his head, forcing him to reveal his disguise to the huge horned animals. The veteran survivor in this Hell had seemingly calculated everything, and his camouflage, made of Beefalo wool and hay, should have guaranteed him to be at ease around these huge beasts during breeding season. Rain was not a hindrance, for in addition to camouflage, his cloak protected him from any bad weather, and wild spiders and hounds dared not come even close to the herd, or they would be crushed by the powerful hooves. The Collector was sure that he had prepared for everything before the nap! And suddenly - a bone in front of his nose, and a moment later - awakened and furious Beefalos battered him and toss him with their horns, like a ragdoll. Now he sits here, beaten and miserable, who can't even-

No. He'd been here so long, and had survived attacks and worse than a run-in with Beefalo, to let himself get so sore. Bruises, fractures, scratches - so what? It's nothing compared to what he's had to deal with before! And it certainly wouldn't stop him from trading with the locals!

"Hah! What gave ya that idea, kiddo? I feel fine!" As proof of his words, the Collector jumped sharply from the stump to his feet.. and immediately his face contorted into a grimace of sharp pain, but he tried not to show it. Wilson's face cringed a little too when he heard a muffled crunch from the Collector.

If there was one thing he remembered from his medical practice, it was that the body shouldn't make sounds like that when moving.

"So what did ya bring here to trade?", the Collector waddled over to his old machine, and pressed a button, bringing the machine to standby.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Wilson asked with concern.

"Listen, are ya going to trade with me or not?" Already the Curio Collector replied a little more roughly, but he did so less out of annoyance than out of the never ending nagging pain. "I may have plenty 'o time and can yammerin' all day, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna answer yer stupid questions." Why was this minnow even interested in his wellbeing so much? They all should take care of themselves.

Wilson looked at the Collector for a few more seconds and then silently walked over to the machine, putting all his shirts and trousers inside the machine, filling the slots.

"Maybe you should-"

"Just press tha damn button to start tha trade!" God, what a blabbermouth...

The machine rumbled and skidded, a Shadow hand came out of the screen and grabbed all the items stacked in the slots, leaving the black dress in one of the slots.

"Hey, ya struck it rich! Look at that- Augh!" The bloody pain won't go away! "Look at that Cocktail dress! Your fiery friend- what's her name again?"

"Willow," Wilson corrected her.

"Right. She's gonna love that stuff. Well, pleasure doin' business with ya, come back next time!"

But Wilson was in no hurry to leave. Frowning his eyebrows, he scrutinised the Collector from head to toe.

"What are ya looking at, pup?" He felt a little uncomfortable with the stare. Because that's usually how Them looked, anticipating the opportunity to strike him with his claws when the Beefalo-camouflaged man couldn't find his torch or other light source.

Wilson took his Backpack off his shoulders, fiddled around in there for half a minute, and pulled out the Honey Poultice.

"Here. Take it."

What?

To keep the battered man from making too much movement, he stepped closer to the slightly confused Collector and shoved the Poultice in his hands.

"It should help with the injuries. Not much, but it's better than nothing. If you do get hurt again, you can visit our camp and I'll patch you up!" The scientist gave him a warm smile. "We've set up near a wooded area, northwest of the frogs biomes." Wilson realized it was as futile to continue the dialogue with the Curio Collector as it was to insist again that he join their group of survivors. The invitation still stood.

"Get well, my friend, and be careful." Taking the black dress with him, Wilson started to leave the Trade Inn, heading towards the camp, hurrying before dusk fell.

And the Collector still stood in a complete stupor. Wilson, along with the rest of the survivors, were probably the only ones who showed some sort of concern for him. Hell, ta even in his life before arriving in Constant few people cared about his existence. Humans were evil and cruel. Animals were easier to deal with, like those Beefalos (not counting the breeding period). But these...

The Curio Collector sat down on a stump and began to wrap his wounds with Honey Poultice. They weren't bad kids, he thought, and he hoped they'd live a little longer here than the others.

[thebluester2020]

[OC Stuff] "The Thirteen Isles"

Mini-pause from ranting about OCs and Gods for a second in order to world-build about the Isles- [Shout-out for @cowfii for inspiring me in terms of the Horizon Grasslands ✨]

Also this is to tide y'all over since I write pretty slow for my actual fanfics 😭

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Entry #3 :: "The Realm of the Isles" [Pt.1]

So although the entirety of the world is simply known as the "Thirteen Isles" (or Thirteen Realms/Lands depending on who you're talking to). It's not exactly thirteen.

To the north, the seventh and ninth isles are uncharted lands thought to be cursed, to the point where they haven't been given official lands and are only referred to as "The Void Waters" due to the ocean in that area having no life within' them and being as black as...well, the void.

But that's besides the point. We're here to discuss the official isles and what species are contained within' them! And worldbuild along the way-

First things first, we'll discuss the isles that are more "civilized" (aka the places that have the most technology in peoples' daily lives)

Oh, and did I mention this world is a mix between Fantasy and Modern?

[1st Isle "The Gathering"] + Despite being known as the most technologically advanced isle. It's still pretty in tune with nature as that is the source of the "electricity" that runs the high-rise buildings, street lamps, phones etc. However, due to many races requiring the presence of magic and nature to function, the Monarch Government that acts as a "Judge" for the other isles, decided long ago that mortal kind shall never go too far with their advancements and that there have to be limits.

Henceforth, although their intelligence and capabilities are on par or better (in terms of our own society). They make sacrifices for the betterment of making sure there isn't mass extinction or anger/interference from the gods.

TLDR ; The most advanced isle in terms of technology. However nature is still very much present, as there are trees that rival the height of buildings and the roads are typically dirt and grass. The Monarch Government make decisions from this nation and people usually come here for the fun and collegiate opportunites rather than attempt to find a permanent home (though there are a lot who have done it).

[2nd Isle "The Great Forest" ] + Per the nickname of the isle, it's an isle completely shrouded in forest. Here the trees are large and the animals even larger! But, besides having larger-than-life fauna, the Great Forest is also known for having the "rest" of the elven species living here unlike their Sun elf cousins. Because of the danger located on the forest floor however, the elves as well as the dwarves that live amongst them take seclusion high up within the trees and make their kingdoms and homes there.

However, due to being the closest to the Gathering isle, the Great Forest isle commonly requests for help from the isle when the danger on the forest floor becomes too great for even the locals to handle.

TLDR ; Giant forest where the locals are elves, dwarves, and a few other species. However, don't catch yourself being on the forest floor because it's dangerous.

[3rd Isle "Sunlight's Landing" ] + A harsh desert land where the sun shines the harshest and the society is purely made up of Sun Elves. Because of the race's naturally arrogant and prideful disposition, all due to their way of life revolving around their beauty. This has caused other races to look upon them with annoyance at best and disapproval at worst. In recent times though, there have been attempts for scholars to try and form a friendly relationship with the race via visiting the royal family that leads the isle.

But...so far, attempts have been unsuccessful as the royals regard curious diplomats and scholars with a cold glare and a fierce warning.

"Curiosity breeds nothing but trouble. If you continue to try and sate your curiosity here then death will be all that you find."

TLDR ; Harsh desert land made up of Sun elves only. The local species has an arrogant nature and treat outsiders with disdain, if an outsider tries to stay around too long, they risk being killed typically.

[4th Isle "Rogue's Crater" ] + A barren isle that, despite the name, isn't filled with bandits or escapees from the law at all. Rogue's Crater is an isle completely covered in lava and hardened rock, grass rarely grows here and any tree that manages to spring up is quickly burned down from the frequent volcanic eruptions that take place here. Yet, although it isn't suitable for most people being able to live here.

It's perfect for the resident Dragon-kin who like to make their homes here during nesting season, preferring their nests and breeding grounds to be deep within the scorching hot craters of the isle where they'll stay put for years up until their hatchlings turn eight years of age before their kicked out to the rest of the world.

TLDR ; Dragon-kin isle that's not suitable for visiting much less making a home in. The Dragon-kin are the only ones who use this isle and it's solely for raising their young.

[5th Isle "Loquitor Wilds"] + A large and wild land that is mostly ruled over by large talking animals. Also known as "Loquitor Beasts", a group of mortals thought to have been cursed long ago by the gods, despite having human intelligence however, the Loquitor are in a constant battle with themselves as they balance a fine line between their human and animal nature. Because of this, it has led to many unfortunate accidents where a curious wanderer will come across a Loquitor who has either fallen into a totally wild state or was caught in a moment of weakness where they were struggling with themselves.

Despite these ever-present risks though, the race is friendly and accepting to those who come along, leading to scholars and mages attempting to try and find a cure to hopefully silence the other half of their nature for good and help the species live a normal life...albeit on four legs or with a pair of wings.

TLDR ; Talking animal race who like to live a life as close to their normal counterparts as possible due to a cursed wild side they can't control. They do have human intelligence though and are pretty friendly to outsiders so long as they aren't caught in a moment where they are struggling with themselves.

[6th Isle "The Horizon Grasslands"] + Also nicknamed the "Farmer's Paradise" due to the fertile soil and constant pleasant weather. Here, if one were to wish for a simpler life, this would be their first stop as the local population consists mostly of humans, animal hybrids, and a few Loquitors here and there are always happy to visitors and new residents alike. But...deep in the caves that dot the isle, there is a rather well-kept secret that's well-known amongst the people.

That they should be wary of any farm animals that manage to escape from their owners' fences and holds before venturing off to the wild. For they'll attracted to the sweet-smelling and highly contagious spores of the fungus known as the "Bleeding Crown" where they may risk being well...infected.

But of course, such a thing has never happened due to the wary eyes of the residents and the caves being sealed off for centuries!

Right?

TLDR ; Farming isle with sweet residents. Just be careful of animals accidentally escaping or they may run into the scary fungus.