#the way this would scare tf outta me if I heard this

[theminionjcfucked]

His subconscious goes crazy!!

[dilfl0v3rss]

I give you..

Bsf!Ony who claims he’s, “only friends” with you but will fuck ts outta you the second you start acting out

WAITTTTTT YOU ATE THIS UPPPPP😩😛😩

ony is the possessive type so it’s very likely that this would have to do with another boy. he was at your apartment, eating all your snacks as he watched tv on the couch. you walked out of your room dressed up for your date. “how i look?” ony looked up from the tv, eyeing you up and down before giving you a small nod. “look nice.” he grumbled. he did not approve of this at all. rolling your eyes, you walking in front of him, restricting his view of the tv.

“why you hatin’? you should be happy i’m finally getting a boyfriend.” his jaw clenched at your words. boyfriend? tf you need a boyfriend for when you got your best friend? it’s not like a boyfriend could do any more for you than he’s already doing anyway. buying you stuff, driving you to work, comforting you whenever you needed, and fucking the shit outta you when you wanted. ony was the whole package for you so the fact that you were trying to get a man was a slap in the face to him.

little did he know, you were only doing this to get a rise out of him. you’ve wanted to be with this man since y’all were in high school, but neither of you were bold enough to ask the other out, so you labeled your little situation as being best friends to keep the other from feeling uncomfortable. “these niggas not good for you suge. they can’t protect you like i can.” you rolled your eyes at the stupid nickname.

since your parents liked to call you sugar when you were little, ony decided to use the name as well, sometimes shortening it as suge. “boy the only reason you saying that is because you scared the last three off with those stupid guns.” a smirk planted itself on ony’s face, grills peaking from behind his lips as he stared up at you with low eyes. “if they running from this then who knows what else they gon run from. feel me?” he lifted up his shirt to show you his glock 19 tucked in his waistband.

you couldn’t help but get a little wet at the action, eyes glued to his inked torso and chest as he kept rambling about how pussy the guys you fuck with are. “you see sum you like mama? see you drooling a little over there.” long fingers gripped the bottom of you face, pulling you towards him for a kiss. you quickly pulled away before walking back to your room. “no. i don’t ‘feel you’ and i wont be feeling you for awhile. gon start saving this pussy for my new man.”

his head snapped towards you before getting up and following you inside your bedroom. “the fuck you mean ‘saving’ my pussy? you not giving it away. must be crazy.” ony laid on your bed, tank top riding up his toned stomach as he leaned on his elbows. is this nigga crazy? tf he mean “his pussy”? last time you checked yall wasn’t dating so this pussy belongs to nobody but you. “wanna bet?” you didn’t notice you were voicing your thoughts out loud, but you still didn’t back down. “boy please. you know better.”

“f-fuckkk ohhmygoddd.” you were face down in the sheets, strong hand in your hair as the other was at your lower back. ony was beating your shit in, thumb curved into your puckering hole as he fed you quick deep strokes in your pussy. the date you were supposed to be on long forgotten as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. “who pussy dis is mama?” squelching noises could be heard from all the way in the living room as he continued pounding away at your pussy.

“mmits ursss onyyy.” his heavy hand moved from your hair to leave a hard slap on your ass. the skin instantly heating up from the contact. “say my name right baby. who’s is it?” his pace grew as well as his anger. body roughly jolting, wrinkling up your sheets to the point where they were snapping off your mattress. “it’s y-yours daddy. it’s a-alllll yours fuckkkk.” you moaned. ony couldn’t help but smile, taking his thumb out your backside so he can kiss up your back.

you were his and his alone, and until you understood that he was going to fuck you as hard as he could to keep you from even thinking of going anywhere with another man. his mouth stopped right next to your ear, breathing steadily as if your tight pussy didn’t phase him at all. “that’s right mama. this daddy’s pussy.”

[sincerlycas]

defo need eren x black! reader when reader gets jealous nd the aftermath of it…i’m the biggest sucker for jealous fics ..

girl me too !!! and I gotchu speak nun of this 🤫.

my man.

summary: eren is hanging out with you and his friends at the pool till some girl comes up to him flirting, him not knowing so, he basically flirts back after dismissing her. this causes you to get jealous and have a sour mood but eren gone handle that.

warnings: arguing, missionary, oral, degrading, a bit of anal (thumb in thy bottox), mature scenes, black reader, bad bitch y/n, a bit of mean eren, etc.

don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

at the moment you and the group were in the new pool place that opened up. the water felt so nice and they even had a hot tub. you were sporting your black chanel bikini with hair in a updo showing off your butterfly tattoo. looking over at eren shocked after he splashed some water on you when you were taking pictures. “boy- don’t play with me” eren laughed while trying to run away in the water but failing miserably and falling face first.

you and eren were matching a bit, him being shirtless showing off his countless of tattoos and black swim trunks clinging tightly to his thighs. his hair in the same updo as you. getting up to swim after him then jumping on his back to bring back into the water when he tried to get away.

“okay okay!! you win love let me go!!” eren wiggled from your grasp then kisses your nose after. “let me fix your hair-“ eren’s words were cut off by connie and armin spraying him with water guns.

automatically disregarding you he made a beeline to jump out the pool and run after them. all you did was laugh watching the whole mess. everyone was having a good day, good vibes and all that stuff. but yours was ruined when that girl went up to him rubbing on his arm. getting out the pool to hear the conversation being in a ear shot of them you heard along the lines of “you’re handsome you know that?” she said with him responding “thank you, you’re pretty as well but I got a girlfriend..” smiling at her showing his pearly whites as if he was practically flirting back.

she frowned then it at that. crossing your arms you stood behind me as he turned around and was startled by you being right behind him. “bro! you scared tf outta me mama” chuckling while grabbing at your waist went to lean in for a kiss by which your declined by curving out the way. “what’s wrong? you okay?” putting his hand on your forehead to check if anything was wrong.

moving his hand from your forehead you frowned “do you flirt with all girls who come up to you looking thirsty asf like that?” not beating around the bush you got straight to the point. eren scrunched his face up after what you said “what are you talking about? I literally dismissed her” letting go of your waist eren mimicked your actions by now being the one to cross his arms.

“ ‘thank you you’re pretty as well’ that sound like dismissing to you?” rolling your neck at him you wanted to know what excuse he would come up wit now. “I was simply returning a compliment !” raising his voice to a higher octave he stared at you giving you the same attitude as if what he did was okay.

“oh I seee, you’re jealous aren’t you” eren smiled as he pointed out the obvious. you being who you were, you weren’t going to admit to it. “boy bye.” pushing your hand against his chest to make him move out the way you walked out and went to change to a pair of jean shorts and tube top walking towards the car and hopping in sitting in the back waiting for everyone you finish changing and leave together.

everyone got seated in the car as jean drove y’all to your respective houses. eren sat next to you trying to slip his hands between your thighs but you moved closer to armin practically leaning against him. this caught armin making him nervous so he leans toward your face to see if anything is wrong. “you okay y/n?” for a second you flicked his eyes to look at eren who was already staring at him with the most deadliest glare.

this caused him to sit back up and act like you weren’t all up on him. “I’m fine ‘min thanks for asking” side eyeing eren while doing so to see him leaning back against the chair staring right at you while tonguing the side of his cheek.

the glares and side eyes went on the whole ride till jean dropped you guys off at your house while waving a bye. you started speed walking to the house noticing eren was trying to catch up to you. “y/n stop right there.” eren yelled into the house as you continued to go up the stairs to your shared rooms. ignoring all his yells while rolling your eyes, you took off your clothes and put on a robe while looking for an outfit to put on.

meanwhile eren made it to the room and grabbed your arm “you’re that jealous that you have to be all up on armin for attention huh?” forcing you to look up at him. “I wasn’t all up on him- let me tf go-“ snatching your arm from him you turned to look at your mirror fixing your edges “I was trying to get away from you obviously- matter of fact why are you worrying about what I’m doing? don’t you miss the pretty lady from the pool?” eyeing him from the mirror you see him glaring at you.

not giving you the chance to rebel, eren picked you and slammed you on the bed while then leaned in giving you a rough sloppy kiss with anger. you being angry as well you gave in while harshly gripping his hair. “ma why are you acting like you’re not the only one for me huh?” trailing kisses down your stomach then to you inner thighs eren waited for an answer. ignoring him you spread your legs as you felt him kiss right near your cunt.

“you know you’re my pretty girl right?” looking up at you while staring to kiss your clit giving it a good lick.

“y-yes~” talking low and breathy you slipping your hand into your silk robe tugging onto the perked up nipples. eren fully placed his mouth around your pussy then started flicking his tongue up and down. moaning lightly you moved your hand to grip his hair looking down at him. “you won’t talk to girls anymore?” pouting at him he simply nodded then shoved him tongue into your hole. “ouuu~” rolling your head back from the immense pleasure.

eren was fucking your cunt with his tongue so well that when you felt your high coming you started pushing at his head. grabbing your hand eren moved it away and gripped your thighs harder burying his face in your cunt shaking his face left and right “cum on my face mama~ make a mess” like in command you started cumming to which he gladly lapped up.

licking his lips eren got up while staring down at you, starting to tug at his pants pulling them down eren rubbed at your thighs. “you’re still jealous mama?” rolling your eyes as he started laughing at you. “it’s not funny nigga; you know what, you seemed quite jealous when you saw me and armin I’d say we have chemistry don’t you think?~” this shut eren up as he finally ridded himself from his pants and took no time in sliding in with force.

letting out a yelp you stared at eren as he smirked at you and pushed your legs near your ears. “you think I see armin as a competition? you’re embarrassing yourself mama, just admit you’re jealous” slamming down into you before you could rebuttal making your let out a loud fuck while gripping onto the sheets. “this pussy is too good for you to be acting all jealous.” grunting while hitting deeper and slow eren made you stare at him the whole time.

“s-shut up ‘renn~” moaning quietly and biting your lip from how slow he was going but was still hitting the right spots. “tell me mama, you think armin can fuck you like this, hm?” suddenly he started speeding up and tugging onto your nipples. you started squirming from how the pace changed and the stimulation being put on you.

“n-noo~ only you can~” curling your toes and rolling your eyes back in your head when eren hit that one spot. “right there~!! ‘rennn right theree~” smiling eren took that ass a chance to tease you and purposely moved away from the spot and gave antagonizing thrusts. “righhtt here?” this went on for a whole two minutes till you snapped and wrapped your arms and legs around him then pushed your feet to force him to hit the right spot repeatedly.

“there’s my girlll~” moaning into your ear eren gave you what you wanted and started pounding down into that spot with no remorse.

“oh shittt~ erenn it’s so good~” mid way eren flipped you onto your stomach and gave you mean back shots !! eren licked him thumb when he saw you trying to move away with his thrusts then shoved his thumb in your ass and tugged you back to him “where you goin mama?~” screaming out you put your hand on his stomach as he continued to fuck you out regardless.

“erennnn~ enoughh~ too much~” eren pouted at you mimicking your face but let up and cummed on your ass.

turning you over on your side with him laying down behind you, you and eren shared a kiss ass he started rubbing on your clit. crying out yet again you went to tug in his wrist but he kept going. “give me one more baby then I’ll leave you alone okay? my pretty baby I’m sorry I made you jealous” pinching and rolling your clit and sometimes shoving his fingers in your clenching hole begging to be filled. finally you cummed again and eren licked his fingers slowly while looking at you.

“you still jealous mama~?”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I request Glitchy red being followed around by a Child NPC with Ice types who he defeated..and at that moment they gained sentience/snapped outta the NPC behavior and now..travels and follows him around bc they’re like “WOAHHH YOUR SO COOL!! :00 :3” and like chats up a storm and and see him as they’re idol and as a big brother figure and wants to be friends with him headcanons? He isn’t lonely anymore! :3

Awe yeah wholesome times <3

........

"I guess that's one way to break the ice!"

Although it may have been humorous to the player, Glitchy Red wasn't laughing at your post-battle line at all.

Nor did he feel any sort of victory in defeating you, one of the only NPCs with a functional Pokémon battle.

You did have some high-leveled ice types for such a young trainer class, but that just reminded him of how broken this game is...and how you really weren't any different from the others.

You were merely puppeteered by scripted dialogue, standing in the same place forever as you handed him his prize: a thousand pokedollars.

Yet he didn't wanna take them. He had millions in his inventory already, but it was all useless to him.

So he tries returning them to you, insisting that you deserved it more.

But you don't even react, instead repeating that same phrase over and over again.

"Take the damn money, kid. You need it more than me."

"I guess that's one way to break the ice!"

"I swear if you say that one more time..."

"I guess that's one way to-!"

"Shut up." In a small fit of frustration, Glitchy Red takes your hand and puts the money into your palm himself, fingers curling around it as he stares intensely at you with glowing eyes.

Yet his anger quickly subsides..and he wonders why tf he thought anything would be different with you.

He's just so lonely here and wishes somebody would wake up.

But after seeing you glitch, he steps back and thinks you're gonna disappear into oblivion thanks to him.

He turns away, not wanting to see it.

However he barely takes a few steps forward before he feels something grab the back of your shirt.

And it's...your hand????

"Red, it's you!! The champion!! Oh my gosh...what happened to this place? Why is everything so weird?"

He's stunned into complete silence, taking a moment to process the fact that someone must've heard him.....because you broke free of your programming!

He doesn't know how you did it or how he could've done it, but he's shocked as he watches you heal your Pokémon, bringing out the Cloyster, Dewgong, and Lapras he just defeated.

"Everyone! This is Red, and he's the coolest!! Can you believe we had a chance to fight him???" You whisper excitedly to your team, completely aware of the tall menacing glitchy man standing next to you.

Ever since then, you've been following him around the map, but mostly in Glitch City where you saw the same anomalies as him.

Yet you weren't have a total freakout or a crisis over it like he did....as you're too busy chatting about everything you admired about him.

And even though you have sentience now, you still retained your habit of using ice-related puns

He's certain you're mistaking his achievements for the actual Red's...or the version of himself in Gold that got casted as a "final boss" NPC.

However, you didn't seem aware of that. So who was he to crush your dreams?

Especially the dreams of the only other character in this cursed world that liked him and could talk to him?

Besides, being deemed a failure by his creators and basically left to rot took a toll on him....he never thought himself worthy of praise or positive attention.

Not even the words from NPCs helped, because he knew they were all scripted lines written into the game. They were empty.

But he believes yours 100% because you're alive and truly do mean them.

You wonder why he looked so angry all the time...and when he finally tells you the reason, he's afraid you're gonna run off scared.

Yet you hug him and promise to never leave his side.

That also makes him absolutely TERRIFIED of you possibly despawning/getting corrupted from touching him...

But nothing bad happens at all.

He may have shed a few tears after hugging you back, only to hide his face with his hat after letting you go....completely denying the fact he was crying.

Although he doesn't show it, he's genuinely happy not to be alone anymore and finds living here a little more bearable.

[cultofdixon]

Falling for the archer

What dating / being married to Daryl Dixon would be like • Grimes’ little sister!reader / Eldest Greene sister!reader [doin’ both cuz why tf not] • ANGST/SFW/NSFW

Requested by: @witch-of-letters

Rick Grimes’ Little Sister

Dating

Let’s be real, Rick Grimes would wish he was still in a coma if he saw you—his little sister—with a man that tried to kill him for what he did to his older brother

But when you look a little deeper in that situation, he would’ve reacted the same way if someone had done that to you

But y’all weren’t together in the quarry. People assumed such by how comfortable Daryl was around you.

The man gave you an ounce of his trust in the very beginning because you didn’t treat him like an asshole [like a certain home wrecker cop…]

It grew from there and had its moments. Daryl didn’t want to act on this feeling growing inside of him until he knew that you felt the same way.

But you were also struggling with the same brewing feelings that you’ve had since the ambush on the quarry campsite. Daryl knew you had the strength to defend yourself, but the second he arrived he took out every sicko that came your way. That when it was all over, the archer quickly scanned your person to make sure you were alright

The two of you really wanted to ignore your feelings because of the whole “end of the world who would have time for this?” spiel but the universe had other plans.

2 incidents happened

Daryl drunkenly confessed his brewing feelings the night at the CDC and given that the man was drunk and you were in shock hearing that come from him, he simply wished he died right then and there thinking he must’ve scared you off. But when waking the next day to the worse hangover, he saw you sleeping on the couch across from him and a glass of water with some pain killers were placed on the table for him. He indeed didn’t scare you off but was afraid he ruined something

But the other incident was at the farm when the “walker” got shot and revealed itself to be Daryl. Rick had to pry you off Andrea when you managed to get a hold of her. Daryl heard about the incident from Glenn after he left the Greene house and went to recover in the comforts of his tent.

He had to go look for you once it was night enough to get some alone time with you.

“You’re a crazy son of a bitch for picking a fight”

“Maybe if you didn’t get hurt, didn’t get lost, and didn’t get shot by Ms. Trigger Happy—I wouldn’t have had to give her a piece of my mind”

“Why do you care so much for somebody like me?”

“Because I can! And I’m falling in love with you! I’m done ignoring my feelings…I couldn’t…I wouldn’t live with myself if you died without knowing how I felt”

Typical for the other party to confess their feelings first with Daryl Dixon. But all he needed was that confirmation before closing the space between the two of you and pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Yeah. Rick shouldn’t have been on watch that night cuz he saw y’all kissing. But given how you almost beat Andrea to a pulp, he wasn’t going to get in the way right away.

Daryl didn’t want to stop kissing you, or let you go for the matter. But he knew if you didn’t go back to your tent that night, someone would come looking for you. And he didn’t want anybody else in those moments that he just wanted it to be the two of you.

The two of you found small moments to be by yourselves and admire the other. Even when their time at the farm was getting cut short by a number of events.

Sophia…Dale…Shane…the fire

When the fire happened and everyone’s first thought was to get the hell out of there, that was when Rick knew for himself that Daryl wouldn’t do any harm given how protective the archer was when you were last to join back on the highway. He met you halfway checking every part of you before pulling you into his embrace and squeezing the life outta yea.

Guess you can say when the “indirect seal of approval” from Rick Grimes came into play, that you started dating Daryl.

Or whatever dating is in the apocalypse.

Daryl isn’t one to be flashy in the relationship and you respected that, but that didn’t stop him from at least trying.

He always wanted to be close to you in any sort of way, for the most part it was sitting next to you by the fire…on the overturn car keeping watch…in your cell…the list could go on.

Sometimes Daryl would take your hand when you’d least expect it and it brought on the butterflies. His hands made yours feel extremely small and brought on a lot of thoughts that were proven later.

The times you would be more intimate even if it was just a short kiss was when no one was around. As stated before. Daryl likes having these moments in private.

Daryl knew it could be a bit unfair, he didn’t want anyone else in your bubble and he especially didn’t like the way those who didn’t know about the two of you—look at you like your fair game. Really only the farm group knows.

But he will say he was amused by how you handled those situations.

“Hey good looking wanna—-“

“Nope. Go away” Y/N got up from the tables in the prison trying to physically leave and when the man cornered her. Daryl was about to to take care of this guy and reveal to everybody about the two, but suddenly the man met the concrete floor after Y/N grabbed the book she was reading off the table and using it as a weapon.

“Crazy bi—-“ he was cut off by her dropping her book on his face and walking away.

That lead to Daryl wanting to take a leap of faith one day.

“Y/N”

“Oh hey D. I just finished getting the truck ready for the run with Sasha later. Did yea—“

Daryl cut her off by pressing his lips against hers feeling her arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

To the Woodbury folk, it came as a shock. Meanwhile, Carol got Glenn’s oatmeal packets for the bet they made about how long it would take for them to be out and open about it.

Since then he’s been a bit more open to public affection.

He’s still not the biggest about it being public but he secretly likes it. Especially when he hears you talk about how great of a man he is to Maggie. Even if part of him doesn’t believe it.

It still takes what feels like forever to get Daryl to believe the words you say to him. He gets the warm feeling in his chest during the moment and you can tell when he starts to feel his insecurities get the best of him.

Which brings into discussion—his scars

He never wanted you to see them and you never pry.

There was a moment in Alexandria where you walked in on him changing and he felt his whole body tense when the door opened. But he instantly relaxed when he heard you say that you were turning around. He didn’t even get his shirt on when he approached you and wanting to get closer to you by letting you see what he’s most ashamed of.

That leap, lead to more. You’ve always felt loved with Daryl even when he doesn’t say it often, and with that moment of him showing his scars…his anxieties about losing you to someone better has washed away.

Now to be a bit more chaotic…

Daryl respected your boundaries and went at your speed when it came to sex. But according to you, he has a look that would get yea going and there was one time he unintentionally did said look when you were talking to your older brother

“Y/N yea listening?” Rick waves his hand in front of your face as you were focused on Daryl looking your direction.

Daryl was waiting to go on a run with you and didn’t know that he was giving you that “look” when you were trying to take down what Rick needed.

“Y/N!” Rick yells only for his sister to sock him in the gut in response.

“I heard you! Now I gotta take fucking care of something before we go” You state before approaching Daryl and grabbing him by the arm heading back inside to take care of “business”.

[A/N: I used pronouns and then didn’t use pronouns in this,,,so my bad]

“The look” is really just taking up any opportunity. Not that Daryl’s complaining.

But there was one morning when you woke before Daryl could leave the bedroom first because Rick knows y’all are dating but doesn’t know y’all share a bedroom…

Bc you didn’t in the prison to respect Daryl’s feelings about feeling confined in a cell

You entered the living room without checking if Daryl left your bed or not and was about to get some water when Rick asked what you were doing last night.

Then cue Daryl coming down thinking Rick wouldn’t be in there and being met with the man’s attention.

“That’s what you were doin’ last night”

“…Yes”

“Yknow four people live in this place right”

“Yes”

“Y/N—-“

“Does Carl know about you and Michonne?”

“Okay. I’m just gonna ignore this so you don’t use that against me”

Engaged to Married

Daryl’s thing when going on runs is finding trinkets or anything that’ll make you smile. That was the one thing you’ve kept with you since the fall of the prison to after the wolves attack.

Daryl found you placing the things he found you on the shelves in your shared room because they bring you joy.

That one day, you went into your room after a long day and saw a small box. Being confused by the new item, you picked it up and opened it.

Only for all of Alexandria to hear you scream off the top of your lungs. If Daryl didn’t inform some…yeah people would think someone broke in again

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

Daryl stood at the gazebo watching Y/N approach him with the ring box in hand.

“Why didn’t you do this the right way?!”

“Uhm. Because…” Daryl took the box and instantly got down on one knee to open it presenting it to Y/N. “I planned this out…and I’m asking you now. Will yea marry me?”

“Yes! I will always say yes!”

Daryl didn’t have to ask for Rick’s blessing, because the two went on a run together when the archer found the ring and was like “You should propose with that, when yea ready”

As much as the group literally had a pastor—-the two of you wanted Rick to officiate and you kept it intimate. With only the group you first came to Alexandria with. And Aaron and Eric. The only Alexandrians Daryl trusted so far.

Being married, honestly didn’t feel very different to Daryl. Except that you two now have a place for yourselves and he really didn’t have to worry about any other guy looking your direction.

Besides. The man likes to leave marks in obvious places. Even slightly before y’all got married, no one even tried because you were marked and Daryl scared most of the men.

Waking up next to you in your own place was the best. Daryl didn’t have to get up right away and not alone for the matter. He’d roll over if he wasn’t already facing you and bring you close that you tiredly wrap yourself around him. The morning sex is a bonus too

You would always take his sweatshirts which were his least worn shirt until much later. He loved seeing you in his shirts but more specifically when he’d come home to you wearing only his shirt.

The two of you gained a routine where either of you would always throw up “I love you” in sign language whenever he went on runs or you would see him during your break from the infirmary. Daryl signed such to you when he was being whisked away by the Saviors and that was the only time it broke you.

Even when all the bad happened and you reunited, the promise Daryl made the day you were married…you made again when he latched onto you the second you walked through Hilltop’s doors.

I will always be by your side until the end, even if someone or something gets in the way. I will always find my way back to you.

The Eldest Greene Sister

Dating

Hershel wasn’t the only one to not like the new comers. But you were more open to bringing people in than he was.

“You don’t know what they’ll do”

“I know for a fact that they wanted to save their kid. What happens next? We’ll approach it with an open mind, old man”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Please”

“Sorry dad”

You and your sister Maggie were the only open minded ones when it came to the two officers and an injured child, multiplying into a whole group.

And Maggie wasn’t the only one that gained an interest in someone in their group.

But you were more risky with the whole “take on the biggest man in the room” in a literal and non-literal sense.

Daryl noticed how relaxed you were when things got heated with the group vs the Greene family. But also noticed a part of you didn’t really care for what your family argued. Guess you were also the black sheep in your family.

The first time the two of you ever talked was about trying to find Sophia. The group wanting to rest up while the archer wanted to go back out there and given the few protests. You figured you’d help the guy without any of them knowing.

Little did you know that he’d take your stubborn bitch of a horse.

The group that came knew Daryl had left to look for Sophia but the Greene family didn’t know that you went out after him. Because again, your horse is easily startled. Finding Daryl wasn’t the hardest thing in the world because these were your woods, your solitude even in this new hell. You ignored your horse completely when you realized that its rider is no longer on him or in the surrounding area.

Daryl thought he was hallucinating when you found him. Given he’s been seeing Merle. You were instantly stressed out given the arrow in his side and didn’t even think about bringing any form of first aid.

“Are you an Angel?”

Y/N laughs to the question as she pressed down on the bleeding wound making him grip onto her arm. “Far from it, honey”

That pet name stuck.

As you were helping Daryl walk back to the farm after several moments of him talking to the blood loss. You heard the yelling and thought nothing of it but when a few of the men from his group came running toward the two. It clicked that he must’ve been labeled as a Walker by their lookout. As the group got closer and it was revealed to them who it was…your anxiety got the best of you shoving Daryl quickly to the ground and that’s when the shot rang through.

Daryl groans from impact and heard the thud beside him seeing the eldest Greene sister through blurred vision gripping her arm.

Who woulda thought almost dying is what brought y’all together

I’m kidding.

But it did show to Daryl that you weren’t a threat of any kind. Even if you did prove that to him a few times already.

The two of you grew close when it was revealed that Sophia was one of the walkers in the barn. He didn’t think he had to hear what you had to say…let alone be vulnerable

“Why do yea care?”

“Are you serious?”

“Look sunshine—I don’t need to fucking hear some “it happens for a reason” bullshit out your ranch hand mouth just le—-“

“Nah. You listen here, sugar.” Y/N shoved Daryl back knowing damn well he was still recovering. Hell so was she. “A fuckton of my family was in there and I didn’t know what my bitch of an old man was doing until the rest of y’all knew. I’ve lost enough of people to know that shit happens at random. But as long as I knew…it wouldn’t eat me alive for the rest of my life. I hated not knowing what happened but sometimes that just happens too…isn’t it better to know that this happened instead of beating yourself up for not findin’ her?”

“…She wasn’t even mine”

“Doesn’t mean it don’t hurt yea too”

Something about what you said, glued him to your side and you weren’t complaining. Because who woulda thought at the end of the world you found someone that understands yea. Even if some of the things you say, worries the guy.

You’re an honest person and everyone appreciates that. Daryl especially.

But sometimes your honesty sparks unwanted anxiety and made few turn a bit resentful even if you were also the one that would do anything and everything to provide for the group.

Even before y’all became official, Daryl found himself silently checking up on you and one night at the prison before the infusion of new people…You sat beside him outside the prison leaning against him and letting him keep you close.

The prison era is when y’all confessed. Or more so Daryl did…and you returned once you “returned”

The medicine got to their people in time before anymore could go through death’s door. But as the others woke up, you still laid unconscious. Daryl never left your side the second the medicine got in and his anxiety got the best of him when your breathing would stop for strange periods that made him think he’d have to do CPR.

“You can’t leave me…you can’t. I won’t forgive yea” Daryl frowns bringing your unconscious form into his arms bringing her close. “How could yea. How could yea come into my life and made me feel a certain way that I have never felt—just for you to leave me. This isn’t better. Waiting isn’t great. I need to know if yea with me til the end or not…”

“Mm…ain’t gettin rid of me, honey”

Hershel was about to check on you when he heard sobbing. He thought you died and your old man held a lot of regret for how he treated you but when he saw Daryl holding you in his embrace sobbing even harder when you held onto him.

It always takes stressful situations to bring few together.

You were official in that moment but neither you or Daryl did more than hold hands until Carol needed a favor in getting your archer to take a shower.

“D, you busy?”

“Yea gonna force me to be nice to people too?”

“Nah. I don’t trust it here that much either. But the house is empty”

Daryl looks at you confused but quick to notice you were only wearing a robe.

“And what are yea planning with an empty house?”

“Fuck if I know…but no one would be around to hear me screaming your name in the shower…” You smirk heading back inside as Daryl sat there for a second longer before leaving his crossbow and following after you.

Daryl wasn’t the only one to bear scars from his past. You knew about his before you saw them as did he. The two of you would talk a lot at night just watching the stars from the prison so you knew what his father did and he knew what yours did…but also yourself.

He didn’t hold back with worshiping your body and making you feel loved every second of every day since that moment.

Married

Alexandria made the two you feel safe in a slow manner but you had each other and that’s what is important.

Neither of you wanted anything fancy or really a ceremony. You two just. Found some rings and went from there. He loves calling you his wife whenever he got the chance to do so.

Maggie was mad that you gave her a wedding and you didn’t let her give you one.

Being married was being more intimate. Your dating phase was more so becoming even closer with the other.

Marriage didn’t feel different. Except for the fact that you two were given a place of your own and y’all decided to christen every room in the place.

You were more of a jealous person when the two of you became husband and wife compared to girlfriend and boyfriend. People were once afraid of Daryl. Now he’s a provider and some of the ladies would stare at the man. But little did he know that he had an attack dog.

It was hot how jealous you can get but not when you start threatening to hit people.

Your jealousy level is about the same equivalence to Daryl’s over protectiveness. Man needs to know where you’re at when you’re not right beside him. And tying the knot did have y’all doing a lot of shut together. But sometimes Daryl would find himself panicking when he hasn’t found you within the first hour of returning home after a run.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’”

“…If you want to join me in the shower you could just do so instead of sitting on the bathroom sink waiting for me to finish”

________

Author’s note:

Me: *writing this*

Internet history: *eight closed tabs about different definitions for the word “Headcanon”*

This is my first one…like. Ever. I hope I did it justice

[jimmy-johns-was-taken]

to add onto the angst.. could we get some eyeless jack as a dad getting upset at his kid for doing something wrong? :O

I SWEAR YOU ARE THE SAME ANON WHO KEEPS ASKING ME FOR ANGST ISTG

Also, I’m only kinda proud of this. I’m hoping you like this, but idk how I feel

Dad Eyeless Jack Angst

Jack was keeping a snack in the basement. Some middle aged camper, you didn’t know and didn’t care. All you knew is that he was loud, screaming and pleading with your father. Something about his wife? You would just turn up the music in your headphones and ignore it. Jack could dissect the man, you would just eat whatever he put in the fridge.

Being Jack’s child wasn’t easy, you were stuck in a small cabin in the woods eating humans to survive. You didn’t receive much of an education or anything, mostly teaching yourself. But when BEN, someone you had become close with, gave you a phone, you managed to learn more. However, it didn’t change one thing.

You needed human meat to survive. That was the biggest downside to being the child of one of the most feared creepypastas.

One day though, Jack had been out. Something about needed to patch up a man named Masky? Or Tim? Jack referred to him with both names, but it didn’t really matter to you. You just nodded, mostly ignoring him, and went back to texting BEN, your only real friend.

‘Jack just left’

‘Is that code for me to come over? Lmao’

‘if u want’

‘I could 😏’

‘Your stupid’

‘You’re**’

‘Fuck you’

You threw your phone down, quickly standing and walking toward the kitchen. Hunger struck you, and Jack had left a liver in the fridge. A small snack to tide you over until dinner.

As you grabbed a plate, a banging let out. Jacks newest meal was banging on the door again. You rolled your eyes and took off toward your room, food in hand. Didn’t matter to you, it wasn’t like he was going to get out anytime soon.

‘Rember that victim Jack had’

‘Which one?’

‘The one that’s in the basement rn’

‘Ohhhhhhh yeh’

‘The random dude?’

‘Yeah, bitch is banging on the door and won’t shut up’

‘Lame, go bang back’

‘Yeah, scare tf outta him’

‘No balls you won’t’

‘Come with?’

It didn’t take but two seconds for BEN to manifest in your room, a large and evil grin on his face. He motioned for you to lead the way, and the two of you made your way to the basement door. The banging had stopped, and you looked at each other.

Reading each others mind, you opened the basement door. Might as well scare the living hell out of him. You silently walked while BEN floated down the stairs, peering around the corner. The man sat there, he reeked of fear and panic. Dread and despair.

A loud bang was heard, the front door had swung open. It wouldn’t shock you if it was off it’s hinges. The man looked over to where you were and screamed, backing himself into a corner. Loud footsteps sounded above and a shadow cast over the basement door opening. You and BEN looked to the top of the stairs and Jack stood there, shadows covering most of his features.

“Shittttttttttt…” BEN swore, looking at you. You both walked up the stairs, slightly pushing past Jack. He slammed the door shut, BEN disappeared quickly, and it was just you and your father. You gave him a look as he snapped the lock shut.

“You’re home early,” you commented, only to be quickly shut up.

“Why the hell are you downstairs? What have I told you? And why was BEN here?” Jack questioned, you could feel his rage increasing.

“BEN is over here all the time, you know that. And we were bored, just wanted to scare the guy, chill out,” you explained, brushing it off as if it was nothing.

“Chill out? What if he were to have gotten out? He’s not chained up or anything!” Jack began to raise his voice and you became slightly defensive.

“Well, he didn’t. It’s fine,” you tried to reason, backing away very slowly.

“Listen, don’t go down there, you could fuck something up,” Jack turned and stormed off.

“Yeah? Like I fucked up your life,” you mumbled, turning and walking to your room. You knew Jack would have heard it, but you didn’t care enough to see his reaction. You knew he’d be angry, imagining steam coming out of his ears and his face turning cherry red. Arriving in your room, you flopped on the bed.

“Another fight?” BEN questioned, sitting on your desk.

“Yeah, and thanks for the backup out there,” you rolled your eyes. BEN jumped up and laid next to you, his own eyes looking at your ceiling.

“Sorry, never know if he’s going to explode or not. I’d rather not be present for that,” he admitted.

“Nah, I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t want to either,” you cringed at memories of Jack truly yelling at you.

“Meh, now you got me! We should go, have fun!” BEN sprung up and motioned toward your window. You smiled, walking over and opening the window. You knew Jack would be pissed, but whatever, you couldn’t care less. Like how he couldn’t care less about you. His child that fucked up his life.

[sillywillybillywilly]

Evolution

Chapter 5

Adam was pacing around his room anxiously. He’s always hard being stuck in the house. Being grounded was his worst fear as a kid. He’s always been outdoorsy, his mother would always say he was an animal in a past life. He heard a woosh of wings behind him.

‘’will you please stop.’’

He turned around to see Michael. He looked agitated. It wasn’t Adam’s fault, he was just getting antsy.

‘’ ‘m sorry…’’ Adam apologized. Micheal looked him up and down.

‘’ I can feel you.’’ Jeez how to not make that sound predatory. Adam curiously cocked an eyebrow. ‘’everything you feel, I can sense it.’’ Micheal explained. Adam nodded slowly. Micheal kept staring at adam as if he was trying to scan him. Adam sighed and sat down on the couch with his head hanging off miserably.

‘’Better?’’ He mumbled staring up at the ceiling. Micheal narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. He looked annoyed and more curious. Adam closed his eyes and sighed expecting Micheal to leave but instead he was surprised to feel a weight slowly seated next to him. He looked up to see something in Micheals hand. It was..an Metallica record! He loved that band! Micheal handed it to Adam and Adam slowly took it unsure what to do.

‘’Holy- jeez! How did you-‘’

‘’You mentioned it when you said you wanted music in here.’’ How did he even remember that?! Adam mentioned that ages ago! But he didn’t question it. He smiled at micheal brightly.‘’I don’t even know what to say man, thank you’’

Micheal nodded and left it at that. Probably went back out the deal with Lucifer. Adam looked down at the CD and began to wonder how the hell he was gonna play it, then suddenly a CD player poped up in front of him. ‘’How the- oh right..thanks!’’ Adam yelled out. He had completely forgotten micheal can hear his every thought. Kinda freaky but can be useful sometimes. (But mostly freaky.)

When Micheal came back Adam was laying on the couch listening to the CD staring at the ceiling. ‘’I see you enjoy the noise.’’ Micheal spoke. Adam sat up and nodded. ‘’Yeah man I love it but yknow somethings been nagging at me’’

Micheal cocked an eyebrow.

‘’How did you remember?’’ Adam asked with that tone. Micheal shrugged.

‘’I remember things.’’

Adam sighed. ‘’Sure sure…ooorrrr…’’ he trailed on. Micheal looked at him curiously wondering what was gonna come out of this kids mouth now. Adam grinned at him stupidly. ‘’You like me enough to listen to me’’ Micheal scoffed. Adam smiled and stood up. ‘’Cmmmoonnn you like me you know it!’’ He teased. Micheal rolled his eyes and folded his arms as if it was w old accusation. ‘’I could never like you. You’re simply a vessel Adam Milligan.’’ Micheal spoke coldly. ‘’I gave you the CD so you’d stop whining.’’

Adam’s grin faded a bit. He made an ‘oh’ sound of disappointed. He sat back down and looked down at he floor. Micheal looked him up and down and furrowed his brow. He’d ask himself why he said that but he knows why he did. Adam looked over at Micheal nervously. ‘’Well if you hate me so why don’t you get outta here.’’ He said. Micheal continued to just look at Adam, the eye contact being tense and the silence feeling never ending. ‘’And I’m done whining.’’ Adam added. ‘’So you can take that CD back too.’’

After a few more moments of silence, Micheal left. But he left the CD. Adam got up after he left and walked over to the CD, staring at it thinking ‘I’m such an idiot.’ He took the CD off the player and threw it on the ground, then off to the bedroom he went to ‘’whine’’ as Micheal would put it. What a stupid thing to think. Micheal having any emotion? Please, it’d be a miracle. Adam laid flat out on the bed to just think. Louging around doing nothing is his best way to think.

Micheal was finally starting to come around and he scared him off again like a mad man waving his hands around at a dog. A douchy, grumpy, know it all, cold dog. Back at square one.

[celestie0]

ellie did you hear about the solar storm thing thats been going around?

my friend gave me a detailed explanation abt what it is whats going to happen n all n honestly i am TERRIFIED.

like it genuinely seems so real that i cant even convince myself that this is another one of those silly things that go around each year

the fact that research for this solar storm has been going on since 2019 is ???? scary ????

makes it seem more believable tbh bc if it was not real it wouldn't have been going on for so long

IM SO SCARED 😭 genuinely cried when my friend was telling me ab this and she also said thwt we'll get to know ab when the solar storm is going to hit about 30 minutes before AND NOW IM PARANOID BC IT CAN HIT ANY MOMENT NOOOOO

and to top this off my mother told me that not many ppl will survive till 2027 i have no idea where she got that from but she scared me even more

this is so bad.

hii my love yess ive heard of the solar storm, i know that solar flares in general have been talked about a lot for a while now but i didn’t know that there was recent news about it!

i’m sorry you’re experiencing anxiety regarding it :””( yeahh ive heard that solar flares are near impossible to predict in advance for a lot of reasons, so that can definitely heighten the fear

hm idk if it makes you feel better but i remember nasa n other news outlets were talking about solar storms the exact same way about a year ago (i just remember telling my dad ab it cuz he works in aerospace n figured his company might’ve been discussing it) but nothing happened at all within the six month period that the news had been freaking out about LOL. i panicked a lot then too n my dad said it was just fear mongering lmfaoo 💀 (he’s kind of a cynic though haha) but yea i just bring this up because it’s not the first time this sort of news has been sensationalized

following any sort of space stuff can be scary for sure n it’s super easy to get lost in article rabbit holes that can really disrupt your quality of life in the present :( but i think there have been multiple instances of space phenomena that have been hyped up in media (even by a lot of reputable news outlets) that have not really affected daily life as much as it was thought to (like the never ending cycle of news about new asteroids, the whole aliens thing, etc)

i think it’s important to remember that the scientists that are actually behind the research are completely different entities than the people writing up articles about it online, so you always have to take the news with a grain of salt or maybe try to look into accounts from the actual researchers behind the findings (who, more often than not i’ve found, don’t even panic about their own research to the level of extent a lot of media ppl do online haha)

i’m not saying i don’t believe in the possibility of a solar storm or anything like that lol i just think there’s a lot of tendency in news these days to scare tf outta people for no reason

also correct me if im wrong but the largest danger of a solar storm would be disruption of radio & internet frequencies right? i thought they werent actually powerful enough to cause any sort of biological radiation harm ;0 loss of internet access would definitely be a weird thing to see and could put stress on more developed countries, but a lot of the world doesnt even have internet access to begin with so i’m not sure how much it will actually affect livelihood (i’m aware that it’d affect a LOT of things for sure, but i’m talking ab dangers like life or death situations, n i just cant imagine that being the case? but if you’ve looked into that more than i have n have more to share then lemme know i’m really curious)

sorry, im just bringing this all up in hopes it helps w your fears, n not to invalidate them! bc i totally get it, it’s scary stuff esp when it’s stuff you feel like you have no control over. but there’s a lot of things in life we have no control over, i think it’s best to just focus on what we can control n just try to enjoy today :)

thank u for ask bb <3

[sulettaofficial]

Thinking back on the Cradle Planet mini web novel, specifically the scene where Aerial is begging Suletta to bail TF outta going to school, and then Suletta utters The Phrase™, and Aerial is suddenly on board with the idea. I can't help but think, just how deep does the brainwashing go?

Hey, first of all, you're my first ask anon! Congrats! <3

Second of all, this turned into a much longer post than I expected and I'm so sorry

TL;DR I think she's conditioned in a way where "you move forward, you gain two." makes her susceptible to doing what someone says after hearing it.

Link to the novel for anyone who hasn't read it yet. Here.

Honestly the novel is kind of wild in a sense. If I'm doing my math right (since I'm on Firefox - thanks Tumblr - it doesn't say "x out of y" when you ctrl + f) there's like four instances of "gain two", which is a lot more than any episode, I think. (It's usually like only one usage of it in an episode, right?? Maybe two at most???)

It just kinda feels like the author is really trying to signify the importance of The Phrase™. Also, the use of words like "spell" and "mom's words are powerful" are...significant, imo. I'm being conspiratorial, I know.

RE that scene, Aerial responds with

>I'm surprised. >Suletta says she isn't going to run.

Aerial has been Suletta's safe space this whole time on Mercury. You'd think that Aerial would know what Suletta's reaction to school would be, and given Suletta's behavior in the anime and the web novel, it sounds more accurate for her to bail. Suletta even acknowledges this to some extent!!

S: "I'm scared. Mercury is all I know, and Mom said she won't be able to go with me." A: You don't have to be Mom's tool. You don't have to take on someone else's curse. S: "Should I decline? If I go, I mustn't fail. Enrollment costs money, and I don't want to embarrass her. What should I do?"

AND THEN SHE SAYS THE PHRASE. And Aerial's response? Literally just

>!

But what makes it even better is that apparently Suletta just. Didn't hear Aerial??

>A: She can't have heard my voice, but Suletta speaks as if responding to me. >S: "If you run, gain one…"

Why would Suletta not hear Aerial? She always does! Except when she says this phrase.

And Prospera has been using this phrase since she was five, just to get her to get an "injection" (I'm assuming a vaccine, since we haven't really had any foreshadowing with Elan about Enhanced People needing anything like an immune-suppressant or anything). So clearly she's been conditioned since a very young age.

Considering the Elan's behaviors (if I remember correctly, Elan 4 was the first Elan that she encountered?), it doesn't sound like they have any Sleeper Phrase. It's more so that they're coerced with promises than psychological conditioning.

And to go back to the anime, when she's talking with her mom her reactions - before the phrase - are this

She's fidgety and horrified.

Prospera says The Phrase

I don't have it as a gif, but then her eyes move back and forth

And then while shaking, she says this

Back to the novel, with the school scene.

Aerial tries to reassure her, Suletta is unsure, then she says the phrase to herself and we get this line

>"You know what, Aerial? If we move forward, we'll gain lots of things--not just two. I'll study, of course, make friends, find mentors, and maybe go on dates!"

It sounds like every time The Phrase is used, someone - her mom, herself - needs to sort of talk her into it still. It seems like The Phrase instills some sense of confidence in her, sure. But it also makes her more susceptible to what someone says.

And hey, am I remembering this correctly? Isn't there a scene in one of the episodes where someone - I feel like it was Miorine? - says "You move forward, you gain two, right?" and then Suletta Does A Thing??

I think she's conditioned to be more confident in herself with whatever someone says after saying "If you run you gain one, if you move forward you gain two." She's not quite like a Cyber Newtype where you have Four out there going "THE ZETA GUNDAM IS MY ENEMY!" It's more subtle than that. She needs someone (apparently even herself) to talk her into doing something. And I'm guessing that she can talk herself into things because of all the times her mom says "You move forward, you gain two." and then goes on to be like "Suletta, you'll be really cool and people will like you and this is important and I love you and you're really really great and stuff." that it's just become a normal response to her to just do the thing. So she says "you move forward, you gain two." and then just naturally falls into "Okay, now here's the part where I tell myself to do the thing."

[definitely-mothman]

The Reflection of a Prince Ch 3

I’m really bad at making summaries, but in a nutshell, this is an Overblot! Jade Leech fic, with the Original Characters belonging to Royal Sword Academy, specifically for a fandom based on the Little Mermaid. • A gala approaches, on not one land, but two, and split in half, what other choice does a Prince have to do? But beware in the past, there is an eye that still watches. Who remembers, who plots and hides teeth in the darkness.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Ch 3 in Read More

Azul was flipping through finance files, about 7 in the morning according to his watch. It was the best time in the week to put together the documents for each days’ sales and costs, along with calculating the salary for employees for the biweekly basis. It was unusually quiet, although it didn’t bother him at the moment. It was still somewhat early, and the silence made it easier to focus.

It was only logical such silence should be rudely interrupted by annoying text vibrations on the wood desk.

“Hey do you like. Have the attendance sheets for the Board Game Club on hand rn.”

Right side top drawer, folder at the very front. Divider is by year…there it was.

“Yes I have them in the Lounge. Is Crowley asking for them already?”

“Kinda I mean. Yeah. He didn’t do this shit last year, says it’s bc of the festival thingy. BS tbh.”

“Do you want me to run them over in the next few minutes?”

“It doesn’t have to be like right now now, but around 7:30-7:45ish would be coolio, plus I’ll be actually awake at that point lol.”

Set the papers aside, set phone timer for 7:30. He’d likely just ask Jade or one of the third years to carry those over. The logistics of having the main keys for the lounge and having to cross campus not long before opening the back entryways for early shifts just seemed too annoying.

“Ok, someone will come by 7:40 at the latest.”

“Man I thought you’d do it ;-; you always send your Vice to do it and ngl he scares the shit outta me dude”

“That doesn’t sound like my issue, Idia.”

“I mean I’ll gladly accept paperwork from anyone in your dorm who isn’t in the top 3 tiers of the ‘Would Murder Me’ list. Like seriously there’s gotta be someone dude.”

“Any of them would likely lose the papers or be late. It’s not my issue he has an intimidating air carrying out benign errands.”

It was about 7:15.

“Bro tf you mean ‘intimidating air’ that implies it’s like. Accidental, and not him creating the comforting aura of a slasher villain. Idk how you survive interacting with him for most of the day. If I got locked in a room with either Leech for like 30 minutes I’d probably kms to get out faster.”

“I’m sure he’d find that quite humorous to hear. Anyways, it's not my problem, and I have things to do so I’m going to go silent for a while.”

“Alr whatever you’re like 100% serial killer victim number one tho.”

He put down the phone on the desk, mentally rolling his eyes.

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard a qualm like this about Jade, especially not from Idia. It was strange to keep hearing, probably because he just couldn’t see what it was everyone was so…afraid of. In a competitive setting, it was logical for even him to be wary of Jade as a long-game player and as someone very good at concealing his hand. But in terms of just normal school life, it just didn’t make sense. At the worst, Jade liked to poke psychologically in the same way Floyd did physically. Instead of chasing and manhandling, it was done with subtle body language and straight faced teasing. Once you wrapped your mind around how the game worked, it was actually quite fun to play in return, although for a completely anti-social loner like Idia, it didn’t seem like much fun.

He may have come across as strange or snakelike, but Azul had a level of trust in him that provided a sense of ease. At the very least, if Jade had wanted him dead, it would have happened already. He made him tea or coffee every morning, and Azul couldn’t think of the last time he’d even had a second thought at drinking what was placed on his desk.

Speaking of which. He hadn’t drank anything all morning, and the lack of hydration was beginning to make his early morning energy wear off. Usually they were both up around the same time.

He left the VIP lounge, heading back towards the shared communal space, including the small kitchen the dormitory shared. The tea bags he used were typically in one of the top shelves of the cabinet farthest from the shared fridge. He put some water in a pan and turned on the stove, sitting the bag’s string over the side. There was a kettle in the shared area, but it was nowhere to be seen, so he’d have to make do.

The tea that he had made wasn’t perfect, but it was fine enough. Octanivelle students set for the early shifts had started to trickle in, and Floyd stumbled in behind them. A bit earlier than he normally woke up, but well within his range.

“Hey Floyd. It’s odd having you be the first one up.”

Floyd slid over, propping against the island. He still looked a bit tired.

“Huh? Jade left our room like. A few hours ago. At least, I think so. Idk, I was half-asleep.”

“A few hours ago? I haven’t run into him all morning. I was going to ask him to run some papers over to Ignihyde.”

“I could run them over lol-“

“It’s fine, you can handle opening, I’ll just run them myself. Was he running off to do the headcounts he mentioned yesterday?”

“Idk, probably? He sometimes dips out in the middle of the night to do something-or-another, I figure it’s just that.”

“…I wasn’t aware he did that. I doubt anyone at RSA is awake enough for him to get any reasonable survey numbers at this hour.”

“Eh, who knows. I’m not worrying about it personally. Probably went off early to maybe hike over there instead of taking the bus. I could see him doing something like that.”

“Oh, ok. If you're not worried-“

“By the way, when are you supposed to be taking the papers over?”

“Um,” Azul checked his watch again. It was 7:39 already, and the walk across campus would probably take some 7 minutes. Shit.

“I should probably go now; I’m already behind schedule.”

“Alrighty then, have fun. I need the key ring though to open.”

“Right, right.” He took the Lounge key ring off of his belt loop, and took the trenchcoat off his shoulders and dug through the pockets for the VIP lounge key. There. When he took his hand out though, he had two keys.

He couldn’t remember which key this was, and with how often he absentmindedly put them in various pockets, it was any guess when he’d put it there. He handed off the known key to Floyd, and put the second one back.

With that, he returned to the office space, collecting the papers, and then headed towards the mirror for the main campus.

For Azul’s taste, it was an eerily lonely morning.

• • •

“I’m good to meet up whenever you are.”

It was almost 5 in the afternoon, and students were flowing to and from Coralliadom, mostly to leave campus to get dinner or head towards the cafeteria. Rielle hovered over the message, and panned his gaze over to his Housewardens’ staff. He went over and took it up, gripping 3 fingers around the magestone and prying it out. He put the stone in his right interior pocket.

“Aight. I’ll head out that way. Should I turn my GPS on to make it easier or smthn?”

“Sure.”

He flicked it on, and began to make his way out of the dormitory. He left the staff in his room to not raise any sort of suspicion, but held onto his pen. He managed to slip Claude’s visage in this escape attempt, sliding through the mirror and booking it across campus towards the gate. It was actually quite invigorating, sneaking off like this. See, I told you I could take care of myself! The gate was open, and Rielle slipped in with the crowd of leaving students, removing the outer RSA jacket and bundling it under his arm. Just before the bus stop, he broke off, awkwardly trotting down the incline and breaking off into the tree cover surrounding the campus.

He had to walk for a while before eventually running into the Octanivelle kid, about 3 minutes. Curly brunette hair almost covered their eyes completely, and their poise seemed too calm for how they talked over text.

Whatever, people were usually more casual over text anyways, right? Not like he had another option at this point anyways.

“Heyo-! I made it, sorry if I was a bit late.”

“It’s fine, I made sure to set time aside so I’d be good if you were. Do you have the stuff I asked for?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it right here.”

Rielle took a small jewelry box out of his pocket, one that you’d normally keep earrings in. He handed it over to the student, who opened it, eyes glazing over the inside.

“Spit vial thing, hair is in a vial, the clippings are just in the box bc I figured that was fine, and the empty vial is the…song? Idk if you just wanted me to sing into a vial, so that’s what I did, sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Oh that’s fine.” He closed the box lid, and put it in the pocket of his dorm uniform, which went almost below his knees.

“Are you guys’ uniforms that long? Based on the photos, I always thought they hit like, mid-thigh at the longest.”

“Oh, this isn’t my uniform.” The kid took out a small glass dish, and sat it over a bundle of tinder he’d piled on the ground. “I spilled some shit on mine earlier this week, so I had to borrow my roommates. He’s like, a good foot taller than me, haha.”

His voice seemed a little…stiff, despite how casual his words were. The student looked up towards Rielle, expression a bit nervous.

“Uh, did you bring a water bottle or something by chance? I would’ve brought one myself for the potion but I didn’t think about it. I mean, I can just use a water spell I guess, but I haven’t eaten a lot today and my magic’s probably a little shaky because of it.”

“Oh, no worries, I’ll do it. Did you skip lunch or something?” Rielle clicked his magestone into his pen, and with a small flick formed about two cups’ worth of water inside the dish.

“Thanks, and no, I didn’t bring much money when I made my way over here so I couldn’t grab anything substantial in Craneport.”

“Oh. Well, you’ll need my ID to get into the dorm anyways, so don’t worry about using it to get meal swipes. Claude will hound you-me if he sees you being the slightest bit winded. Wait-“

Rielle took out his phone, and began texting rapidly. The students’ phone pinged several times back to back.

“Ok I sent you the itinerary for the day of, so that you’ll be ready for that, and also the sheet music for the musical performance on Friday.”

“Musical…performance?”

“Yeah, I am/was doing a pretty singing number for the gala thingy- but you’re taking on my singing voice anyways so you’ll be good. There’s 5 days anyway to get the hang of it, and you won’t be on stage alone!”

“O-oh. Ok.”

The student began to dump the contents into the water, and lit a small fire on the tinder beneath the dish with his pen.

“I could’ve done that, yknow.”

“Oh, sorry. Just didn’t think about it.”

“Lol, you don’t have to say sorry. Just don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

The kid took a small twig nearby to stir the mixture, using his other hand to control the flame, it spinning to a light blue color. He was murmuring something under his breath, but Rielle couldn’t make out whatever incantation he was saying. Maybe saying it really quietly was a part of it?

In a moment, the small whirlpool in the mixture tinted to a bright red, and spread out within the dish. A small smile briefly appeared on the kid’s face, and he put the twig to the side, taking a small necklace out of his pocket.

“Oh, that’s the jewelry item?”

“Yeah. I’m using this one specifically because I’ve been able to get it to work with other magic properties like this already. No worries for me about it not working.”

“It’s so…cute. Is it an actual nautilus shell? It looks a bit more worn and dirty than the ones you see in shops. And it’s so tiny!”

“Yeah, it’s an actual shell, a friend of mine picked it out for me, we were pretty little at the time. So that’s why it’s kinda small.”

“So I’m guessing the string on it is more recent so it fits your neck? Lol.”

“Yeah, I’ve changed the string a million times at this point, hah.”

Again. That slightly strained voice, enough to notice but not noticeable enough for Rielle to want to bring attention to it.

The Octanivelle student took the twig he’d sat down, and stuck it firmly in the ground. Taking the necklace’s string and catching it on the twig, he dipped the shell down into the potion, where it began to glow a pale white within the liquid.

“Ah, yeah. The contract scroll. I almost forgot about it.”

He took a golden paper out of his pocket, along with a slightly decorative pen. It was folded several times into a little square, and once unfolded the top portion was too crinkled to properly read. But most of it was legible, and listed everything they’d spoken about over text, word for word. Rielle panned over the language, checking for any small print. He may have had no other choice, but he’d barter if he needed to.

“The only small text on there is about you being liable if the Unique Magic offered in the contract expires before you return to trade places with me again.”

“And that time would be…”

“Friday, about 11pm. An hour and a half after the gala hosted in your dorm will have ended. I just don’t want to be stuck up there. Do you want the pen? I thought you’d take it already-“

“How did you do this? This is a Unique Magic in and of itself, dude! Did you actually get your Housewarden to write one up for you? Like an IOU or something?”

“…can’t say. Secrets of the trade, lol. I don’t wanna lose my chances of getting deals like this in the future, you know?”

The student smiled, but the emotion didn’t quite reach the shine in his eyes. As if they carried two different people. I suppose that was Octanivelle for you. Rielle took up the pen, and carefully signed his name, drawing a smile heart above the i.

He absentmindedly handed the paper and pen back over, and dropped his RSA jacket onto the ground. The guy would probably need it if he wanted to slip back onto campus.

“There you go. I should probably text my parents about now and head off towards the hall of mirrors. Pretty much no one’s walking around campus right now, although you might wanna wait a few minutes before going into campus.”

“Alright, I have to wait for this to finish up anyways. Hope you have fun at the family gathering.”

“Yeah, I will! Thanks for doing me a solid, man.”

“Don’t even worry about it.”

Rielle finally got up from a squat on the ground, turning and heading back towards the campus.

He couldn’t have left soon enough. The illusory potion put together that morning was only meant to last about an hour. Even now, teal was beginning to push through the brunette hair, which was now falling to the ground at an alarming rate. He hadn’t even bothered to notice the contacts that already matched his eye color, or how squatting down disguised his clothing slowly fitting more snugly. The potion let off a sweet-smelling steam. It was done.

Taking the string off from around the twig, the necklace was pulled from the solution, and now it had a beautiful yellow gleam. He took off the Mostro Lounge jacket, covering a simple white dress shirt like those worn in RSA. The jacket and hat was placed into a pile along with the glass dish, and with a gentle wave of his pen, the pile burst into a large flame.

The necklace’s string fit perfectly to his head, and the nautilus shell was tucked beneath the shirt collar. He imagined how it looked outside of himself. Thin, siren eyes becoming like that of a doe, merging in and out as if both were mirages. A pale glow flowing down the edge of his hair, it growing vibrant red, and growing longer as the glow went down, beyond his hair’s end. The shell felt as though it could replace his own heart with how warm it felt against his chest.

Finally, he opened his mouth, feeling up and down the foreign vocal chords. The sweet, silky sound that left his mouth. That voice which was far too beautiful to belong to him. He stood and straightened his back, and lightly lifted his eyebrows along with the corners of his mouth, trying to make it look natural. Speak with your throat, keep your balance on the left side instead of in the middle. Pretend as though your head is filled with helium.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m back late, I got kinda sidetracked, went on a stroll and lost track of time. But…you forgive me, right?”

[blackshadowswriter]

BESTIE WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, YOU ARE SO INSANE I LOVE YOU

Ok i'm ngl, I've been horrendously absent from here, but then I pop back in bc I need some of your fics to get me through the day, and then I see you've posted this?? fucking?? masterpiece???

The way I gasped at the summary and then gasped even louder at the warnings and then gasped again at the word count 😭😭 you spoil us too much with your writing girl and i'll always eat it up

I LOVE the premise to this so much, like I was already obsessed with your other vampire!reader x Matt series, but then I saw this one was VAMPIRE!MATT and I was like sign me tf plss 😫🙏 the idea of an interview is so creative and I could already tell there was gonna be so much sexy tensy where tf did that shorthand come from, i mean sexual tension ofcc

You were a curious child who turned into an even more curious adult. At times even a bitter one because she couldn’t get the answers she yearned for and had to do it herself. So, of course, the We Don’t Talk About Vampires rule came across as rather absurd, learning about it back when you were merely a teen.

Reader is such a mood with this one, like they said "don't talk about it" and she said "fuck you, I'm gonna" and I absolutely love that for her

He addressed you personally. Your name resembles a masterpiece, the letters swirling at the edges.

POETRYYYY, also I love how Matt takes the effort to write pretty and with a whole ass fountain pen, like mans is down BAD trynna impress her and I get it tbh

You don’t know me, but I know you.

DRAMATIC ASS MATTHEW BUT ALSO THAT'S KINDA HOT, WHY'D THAT GIVE ME CHILLS

also i might be chronically online too much, but this just made me hear that one "you dont know me but i know you" sound in my head 😭

I can offer you a different path. A story. Answers to your questions. And the unfiltered truth of a 242-year-old man.

The 242 sounded so fucking dry LMAO like I can hear Matt saying it with a heavy sigh, poor baby is too done with this life 😭

As you are about to approach the entrance, your fingertips start to burn. A gasp escapes past your lips. Staring down, the cubical piece of paper goes up in flames. You are mere feet from the door, nowhere near close to an open source of fire, and the card starts to burn like a wildfire.

AGAIN DRAMATIC FOR NO REASON MATTHEW WHY, also the way this would have scared the shit outta me so badly, reader is sm stronger than i could ever be 😖✊

You imagine him to be an old man, possibly middle-aged.

LMAO BABY YOU JUST WAITTTT tbh matty would be hot anyways so idc id fuck him any age OK IM SORRY

Their venom rivals the intoxicating feeling of heroin, you’ve heard, and it heightens your senses to the point all you can feel is the one who bit you. Research suggests it’s a million times stronger than an orgasm, for both the vampire and the human being.

THE WAY MY FACE TRANSFORMED INTO THE SMIRKY EMOJI BECAUSE I KNEW EXACTLYYY WHERE THIS IS GOING, BITY SEX LETS GOOOO

He’s wearing a simple suit without a tie, and the white of his shirt is as pristine and clean as the cut of his beard. You can see chest hair poking out from underneath the two open buttons, as dark as the locks on his head.

MATTHEW IN THE BLACK SUIT WITH THE WHITE DRESS SHIRT, I CAN'T ✋😩😫 NOT TO MENTION THE CHEST HAIR, BESTIE YOU'RE KILLING ME WITH THIS

thank you sm for your service with the white shirt and the chest hair, you are my saviorrrrr

“You–” The blood has collected in your head, pushing the temperature in the room to an all-time high. “Get out of my body!” you snap. He laughs. “That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.”

DIRTY MIND DIRTY MIND, MATTHEW YOU NAUGHTY CATHOLIC tbf he has reason to be smug, like i wouldnt say that either, now 'get in' is a different story-ok ill stop being horny now

That summer, Elektra drained him. He didn’t know what she was. She fooled him. He was obsessed with her. Her dark eyes he couldn’t see lured her in, and it was the venom in her blood that became his downfall after she dug her teeth into him.

I LOVE how you worked Elektra in like that, like it's an AU but it follows the plot SO WELL and your description of her actually has me IN LOVE, ITS GORGEOUS

I am Daredevil, not even God can stop that now.

THE LINEEE HE SAID IT, HE SAID THE LINE YESS, peak writing at its finest, bestie 😌👏

“I only exist for myself now. I only bleed for myself. No God, no church, and no more religion. I’m not Jesus, I’m Judas, and I retired the cross the day I was crucified."

OH MY GOD, THE RELIGIOUS IMAGERY, I LOVE IT? BESTIE YOU'RE ACTUALLY A FUCKING POET HOLY SHIT. "im judas and i retired the day I was crucified" ASDLKFJA THIS IS THE BEST SHIT I'VE EVER READ, IDK WHY THIS ONE LINE MAKES ME FERAL BUT IT'S SO GOOD WHAT THE FUCK

You no longer see money in this, or a story to chase, you only see Matthew, and the halo above his head he still believes is a pair of horns.

THE HALO HE BELIEVES ARE HORNS, GOOD LORD AGAIN??? MORE BEAUTIFUL RELIGIOUS IMAGERY??? HOW ARE YOU COMING UP WITH THIS BESTIE, IM IN ACTUAL LOVE RN

Matt towers over you in all of his intimidating glory. His eyes spark red, but you hold his unfocused gaze. He has such beautiful eyes. This pull between you is far from human; it’s unhealthy, and it is exactly where he wanted to get you. You’re trapped, pinned underneath him like a deer caught in headlights. 

help i cant breath now MATT PINING HER AGAINST THE WALL AND JUST TOWERING OVER HER IS SO HOT AHHH

and his eyes, pls they're so pretty 😩 READER IS LIVING MY DREAM RIGHT NOWWW

His palm rests on your chest. Your heart pounds against his palm. “You’re so alive,” he says. You cradle his face in your hands. “And you’re more human than you think.” If he wanted to pull your heart out and hold it, you would let him in a heartbeat. 

ADLKFJSD THEY ARE SUCH SOULMATES, THE PARALLEL OF THOSE LINES IM GONNA JUMP OFF A BRIDGE, THEY'RE SO PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER

The invisible string between you glows a bright crimson. It slings around you, tying you together like the roots of a tree. It’s an eternal sacrifice. You are giving your all to him, the very core of your existence that is now flowing into his mouth

This shit simultaneously has me tearing up and feral clawing at my screen because INVISBLE STRING I LOVE THAT, THEY ARE SO SWEET THIS IS WHAT I CALL LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT and also ETERNAL SACRIFICE? HELP THEY ARE SO DEVOTED I CANT

He breathes in again, your arousal sweeter than fiction.

🎶this life is sweeter than fiction🎶 I LOVE THE REFERENCES, I thought "invisible string" was just a coincidence but thissss

“Hey.” Matt tilts your head toward him. “Where did you just go?” he asks. “Thinking about you,” you murmur. “Me?” “You.” “Why?” “Because I want to be your salvation.”

THEM 😭😩🤧🥰 literally they are such goals fr, like idc he's a vampire that makes him hotter I WANT THIS TOO, I LOVE HOW SWEET THEY ARE, THE SALVATION PART IS SO BEAUTIFULLLL

That night, you fell in love with the Devil, but he also fell in love with you, his angel in the form of a reckless journalist, and the only blood he ever wants to taste again until the end of his miserable, cursed days.

And now im crying, "his angel" THIS IS SO FUCKING SWEET AND AGAIN SO POETICALLY BEAUTIFUL OMFGGG "the only blood he ever wants to taste" THIS IS PEAK DEVOTION RIGHT HERE

bestie you put crack in this fic and didn't disclose it and that should be illegal because holy shittt you have me HOOKED on this, like I am DESPERATE for more of them, I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU ARE SUCH AN AMAZING WRITERRRR

Interview With The Vampire | Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Reader

-> Main Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Reader (she/her)

Summary: You are the first journalist to interview Hell’s Kitchen’s resident vampire vigilante after he requested you personally to tell his story. He’s offering you a way out of your miserable job—to make your voice be heard. You’re desperate and curious, so you decide to take the risk. Most people only know him as Daredevil, but you are about to learn who’s really behind the mask. How hard can it possibly be? As it turns out, interviewing a vampire is a lot more complex than you expected it to be, and Matthew Michael Murdock has set his mind on ruining you for any other man to come.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), alternative universe, blood play, marking, scent kink, slight Dom!Matt, unprotected p in v, oral f!receiving, biting, vampirism, angst, religious imagery & symbolism, Catholic guilt, mentions of violence, allusions to suicidal thoughts, lots of plot, age gap

Word Count: 12.2k (this is a beast)

Other Characters: Vampire!Elektra (mentioned), Ben Urich (mentioned)

A/n: I finally got this one edited. This is a beast, y’all! I drew inspiration from Anne Rice’s Interview With The Vampire, but particularly the 2022 AMC series (I fell in love with it then and there), but it’s not based on it, so I just played around with the idea and this came out. It’s a lot, but it wasn’t enough for a full-blown series, so you’re getting a big ass One Shot instead. I used my usual Smut tag list, but since this is slightly Dead Dove Do Not Eat, heed the warnings and proceed with care! Don't read it if you don't want to. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Read Me On AO3!

The sun has long set over the Big Apple. Artificial neon, cars, and ceiling lights burning in the highrises along the riverfront cancel out the darkness that has befallen the country’s east. Noise melts into a flood that rolls over people’s senses, but most in New York City have grown numb to the city that never sleeps. 

Sirens follow cacophonies of screams. Teenagers get into clubs with their fake IDs, adults get drunk in bars or go to work the night shift at their underpaid jobs, and the other half cry themselves to sleep, knowing they will have to get up in the morning and go through the same hell all over again. 

Life has become a miserable existence, and it leaves human beings wondering, ‘How much longer do we have to endure this before we all finally drop dead?’

The system fails them. The law fails to protect them. All they can do is lie down and wait to die. And they will die sooner or later. That’s inevitable. 

In Hell’s Kitchen, in a penthouse with a view of the Hudson through colored windows that gloss over during the day and show the city throughout the night, resides someone who most of the city only knows by an alias—Daredevil. 

If anyone crosses him, he will suck them dry. It’s not a metaphor, I’m afraid; his reputation precedes him. Criminals fear the red eyes that come with fists and a sharp set of teeth that will surely run them into the ground. The rest of the city feels a little safer with him, but so far, no one has dared to question his nature. 

Fear is known to work as a paralytic. And this man living in the penthouse by the Hudson is the personification of what one might consider fear-inducing. Without the fear of others, he would not be thriving. 

An apex predator like him lives for the thrill of the kill. When the adrenaline spikes, it makes the prey start running and the blood taste so much sweeter. It is to a creature of his kind what a good glass of century-old red wine would be to a human being; he savors every last drop of it.

Two years out of your Master’s degree at Columbia University, you have become one of those hard-working adults who fall into bed later than they should, and you lie awake at night, wondering how much longer you have to exist before you can live.

You interned at the Bulletin; you ran the true crime and mystery column for over a year before the newspaper shut down. A billionaire from downtown Manhattan bought it to start his own magazine, and you were the only employee he didn’t fire. Instead of relying on your top-tier education and experience though, he has banned you to the lifestyle and beauty column. He’s a beast if you have ever seen one. 

On a Monday in June then, after the sun has risen and is now falling again, you find an envelope on your desk. You glide your fingers over the fancy paper. The letters are written in handwriting that resembles the old letters from the 18th century you had the pleasure of using as research material for your Bachelor’s thesis.

Your heart skips a beat. Could it be…

It is no secret that vampires exist.

Over two decades ago, scientists published papers on the existence of blood-sucking creatures after years of valuable research, and now governments around the world have set out to burn the inhuman species out before they can cause any more damage. Vampirism though is older than humanity itself and unless law enforcement has evidence of homicide, vampires have the right to exist amongst humans. 

They are excellent at hiding their true nature, that much is true. The lore that has been passed down since the beginning of time is only partly true. They know how to adapt and rise from the ashes like elegant phoenixes. The misconceptions surrounding their existence stem from fiction, horror, and fear, but they persist. 

And a rule has been established in society ever since the truth was revealed: don’t talk about vampires! 

Don’t talk about them unless it’s in a fictional context. Don’t put your research out there. Don’t fraternize with them. Don’t risk becoming prey. Don’t be fascinated by them, and God forbid, don’t you dare write articles about them for the public records. If you want to know about vampires, you have to dig, and you have to do so quietly or society will deem you crazy and a freak. 

The worst thing to be is not a flying android or a super soldier with a shield; the worst thing you can be, in this day and age, is a vampire. 

You were a curious child who turned into an even more curious adult. At times even a bitter one because she couldn’t get the answers she yearned for and had to do it herself. So, of course, the We Don’t Talk About Vampires rule came across as rather absurd, learning about it back when you were merely a teen. 

You started researching, and you found out more than you thought you would—more than you thought you could. You wanted to cover the issue in the Bulletin back when you still worked there, but since humans were raised to fear the very mention of vampires in the real world, no longer romanticizing the concept but rather running from it, the truth shall remain hidden. Again, that seemed absurd, but you had to accept it to get ahead. 

You kept researching to the point you convinced yourself you could be one of them if you tried. You felt like you understood them, but nothing could ever fully answer all of your questions to the point it felt truthful. Honest. Real. 

Growing up, everyone told you dead things aren’t supposed to walk. They aren’t supposed to breathe and exist among the living. They are cruel, and vampires are killers that leave trails of bodies the government is hiding from us. Greediness exceeds common sense. The human mind tends to get sick and twisted, and those who don’t fit in hardly ever stand a chance.

Hell’s Kitchen is particularly quiet on the issue. Rumor has it that the vigilante chasing criminals at night and leaving the worst of them dry at the shore of the Hudson while, at the same time, surrendering those he deems worthy of rehabilitation to the authorities, is one of those vampires. 

They call him Daredevil; the savior of innocents and the downfall of the vile. Only a handful of people know who he is. The truth is caught in a spider web of lies, unable to come out unless someone were to tell his story for the world to hear. 

That Monday in June when you open the mysterious envelope on your desk, everything changes. 

He addressed you personally. Your name resembles a masterpiece, the letters swirling at the edges. 

You don’t know me, but I know you.

It’s strange to read your name out of the mouth of a stranger.

I must admit, Miss, I’m a big fan of your writing. And I’m not talking about the lifestyle and beauty column Mr. Doherty of the ‘Silver Lining’ has confined you to.

No, I am a big fan of the work you used to do for the New York Bulletin. I remember your name headlining many articles on crime here in Hell’s Kitchen—a column my late friend Ben Urich used to call his home.  

It’s a shame that the paper was shut down. I tried to prevent it, but the disappearance of half of humanity and Wilson Fisk’s irreparable damage to the city’s foundation tied my hands. 

The token female journalist reporting on unsolicited beauty advice and lifestyle choices no one is going to follow in the days of social media and fake marketing. It must be frustrating, right? Not having a story to tell. Not getting recognized for your impeccable talent. The Bulletin gave you a platform, but Mr. Doherty and his goons took that away from you.

What I’m asking myself is, are you satisfied? You were probably imagining a different future for yourself. A woman of your caliber must want to be more than a mere object used to make a bottomless magazine look better on the market. 

Excuse my overstepping. I read one of your essays on the magical and the mythic—lore versus reality—the other day, and it inspired me. My life has been taking quite a few turns lately, so I required some new… let’s call it insight. 

You don’t know me, but I am one of those creatures you are fascinated by. I’m the kind of creature people have been telling you not to write about because the weak minds of the public would not receive it well. The Catholics, the church, the fragile and fearful human beings that can’t imagine anything in fiction being real and want to remain the superior species—trust me, I know what it feels like to be backed into a corner. To be abandoned. To be underestimated. Not quite like you, I admit, but I have a few years of experience in and with this world to show for myself. 

I imagine you’re tired of your position. I imagine you’re dissatisfied with human idiocy. You crave answers to your questions. Questions you have been asking yourself ever since college failed to answer them. My kind is being censored—partly for good reason—but that doesn’t sit right with you, does it? To live life in a monotone line with no clear way out of this boring rhythm you have had to fall into? 

I can offer you a different path. A story. Answers to your questions. And the unfiltered truth of a 242-year-old man. 

You are going to find a card with my address attached to this letter. I can assure you, sweetheart, we both want the same thing. I will wash your hands if you wash mine. Think about it, and come find me when you have made your decision. Preferably after the sun has set. 

Yours sincerely,

M.

The paper crumbles in your hands, but only at the corners. Your eyes are glued to the lost drops of ink, the blue blood of an old fountain pen caving under too much pressure. 

He chose his words carefully. Every paragraph circles around your head. You breathe in, and it suddenly feels as though the whiff of the unknown is an inhalable drug, twisting your brain inside out. 

The pull threatens to submerge you in a stormy ocean. You’re flailing your arms around helplessly, but there is nothing for you to hold onto. All buoys have drifted into oblivion, leaving a sea of utter emptiness behind, and in the midst of it, there you are, drowning.

In a moment of clarity, you fold the letter back down on the desk. It lands with a thud, and you look around frantically, checking if anyone is watching you. They aren’t. 

M. That’s all he’s giving you. And the fact he is over two hundred years old proves the rumors to be true. He’s standing by it, but only to you. He wants to reveal himself to you, show you his true face for a story, but he’s a vampire. 

You’re alone. You can wash his hands, but is just showing up enough for him? You don’t even know him. 

You’re in trouble. This time though, you didn’t even do anything. You did your job, and he caught an interest in you. How does that work? 

Your heart skips another beat. It should not, but it does. The danger is exciting. It shouldn't be exciting. You hate what your body is doing, but how can you make it stop? You can’t. You can’t do anything but take it.

This stranger has got you in a chokehold, but in his hands, you might as well surrender to your certain demise. You don’t consider vampires inherently evil, but there is a reason people warn you not to walk alone at night in Hell’s Kitchen. He’s dangerous, no matter his nature, and he is not supposed to lure you in the way he does.

But you’re a curious kitten, and he is offering you the holy grail of answers to questions you have been grappling with for years. He hit the nail right on the head. And it doesn’t even scare you how well he knows you. 

This is a gold mine. Realistically speaking, telling a vampire’s story could make or break your career as a journalist. If you do it for the magazine, you’re done before you can even bring your words to print, but if you do it individually and you do it well, people will certainly eat it up. The question is just, are you going to play your entire life safe, conforming to your boss’s view of you until you get the freedom you crave, or are you going to take the risk and fly? 

The answer is as clear as day, but it takes you a moment to process. It’s as though someone is in your head, steering you in the direction of whoever this M is. Daredevil. This vampire who wants you to interview him, and for what? That’s still an open question you don’t have the answer to. But you do know what to do.

You scramble for your laptop, your notepad, and the letter in the envelope. The clock strikes four. You have another two hours on the clock, but you can’t be bothered to stay. 

Upon hearing the sound of your shoes hurriedly scraping against the linoleum floors, one of your colleagues turns in her chair. “Where are you going?” she asks.

“I, uh, have somewhere to be,” you tell her as you brush past her.

“What, now?”

“Yeah. I forgot I had an appointment.”

“What about Mr. Doherty?”

You stop on your way out, looking back over your shoulder. “If everything works out,” you say, glancing through the window to his office at the other end of the hall, “He’ll have my letter of resignation by the end of the week.”

She gasps softly. “You’re quitting?” her voice is barely above a whisper.

Almost sinisterly, you chuckle. “That’s the plan, yeah.”

“But—”

“Tell your daughter Happy Birthday from me. I gotta go.”

Your steps echo for minutes still, but you are long gone with the wind.

Silver linings are considered an advantage that comes from an unpleasant situation. The name has proven to be entirely unfit for the magazine that replaced a big piece of Hell’s Kitchen’s history. The Bulletin had cultural value as much as it was laden with decades of the city’s stories told to the average person. 

Wilson Fisk was the dynamite that sent New York alight. The Bulletin’s destruction was mere collateral damage in the fight to get the city back on track. You have had so many reasons to leave presented to you, yet you never took them. If you had, maybe you wouldn’t be here, making bad decisions on what started as just another Monday in June. 

The fact is though, you didn’t leave, and you are here now. Facts are what matter. They count. Your hypothetical past, present, and future have no place in this reality because you can’t travel back or forward in time. Vampires may exist, and the Avengers time-traveled to save the world, but things aren’t quite as easy once you look at the bigger picture. You are not a superhero, you’re just a journalist chasing the kind of story that will finally make her voice be heard. 

You know that Ben Urich, at least, would be proud of you.

His address weighs heavy on the small card you pulled out of the envelope earlier that evening. You passed it on to the cab driver, and he began to navigate the dark streets of Hell’s Kitchen. The luxury condominiums in this part of the city can be counted on one hand. You know exactly when you’re there. 

The sun has once again set over New York City. You’re wide awake, not quite sure though if you’re ready to face what you are walking blindly into. Even your driver refuses to take you past a certain point, and that is how you know that you’re not dreaming. This is real, and it’s supposed to be terrifying. 

How come you’re not scared then?

You slip twenty dollars to the cab driver, then climb out of the backseat. The salty air from the Hudson River a few blocks down wafts around your sensitive nose. In the distance, you can hear waves crashing into the docks as the wind picks up in speed. The boats must be moving wildly by now, swaying from side to side and possibly even making the fish in the depths of the water seasick. You would be if you were them. 

With every step, you grow closer to your target. On second thought, maybe you should have brought more than just a pathetic bottle of pepper spray and your precious laptop. You could have brought your grandfather’s cassette recorder, at least that would leave a mark if you hit someone over the head with it. 

Do vampires get concussions? That is another question you can add to the seemingly endless list in your mind. It’s a confusing place as of late, and the weird sense that someone is playing with the controls won’t leave you alone. Either you are overthinking, or you are worse off than you originally thought. 

The apartment complex the card directs you to stretches high above you. You look up, seeing not a single light on. That’s odd, you think, but then again, you are meeting with the city’s most notorious man. If he is who everyone says he is, and if the rumors are even true, that is. 

As you are about to approach the entrance, your fingertips start to burn. A gasp escapes past your lips. Staring down, the cubical piece of paper goes up in flames. You are mere feet from the door, nowhere near close to an open source of fire, and the card starts to burn like a wildfire. 

You pull back, your heart hammering against your ribcage. The ashes fall to the ground, but before they can hit the asphalt, they vanish.

“What the–” before you can finish, the doors before you swing open toward the inside. The lights turn on. Someone even has called the elevator for you. 

Another step forward, and a voice stops you. “Fourth floor, down the hallway, first door to your right,” the voice says through the speaker. Only then do you notice the lack of a doorbell. 

Everything in you is screaming for you to run, but you are rooted in the spot. He dragged you here with a mere letter, and you were more than ready to jump. Desperation was the only thing that drove you here. Your brain seems incapable of rational thought.

What if that is what he wanted all along? To get you complicit by playing on what you so desperately need, which is a story and a way out of this boring everyday life that is threatening to slowly kill you.

He’s like a siren, luring you into his deadly trap, but even knowing all of this, you still can’t find it in yourself to run. 

The second you enter the building, the door shuts behind you, and your only way out is officially locked. You made the decision; you have dug your own grave, possibly quite literally, and now you have to lie in it. It’s better to die chasing a good story than dying at a desk in an office that doesn’t respect you.

You are a disgrace, you can hear your father’s voice in the back of your mind. He always warned you not to be too reckless or your bad decisions will eventually catch up with you. He always taught you not to trust strangers, and to stay the hell away from those who disgrace God, but you have never cared much about being a good girl. 

Your thoughts are as morbid as your obsession with the walking undead. It is time you embrace what people are already saying about you.

The elevator ride feels like an eternity. It goes up and up and up until it finally stops on the fourth floor. The walls smell like nothing but a faint hint of bleach. It’s clean, parquette not carpet, and the walls are kept in a shade resembling a mixture between crimson and maroon, and it is blending into a sort of marble.

The metal doors slide open. Again, you hesitate. A sweet whisper echoes in your ear, dragging you toward the edge. You breach the border between the elevator and the hallway that waits behind it. The voice is distant, and it doesn’t sound human—it reminds you of a siren’s song, calling for you. He is calling for you, and a fog settles over your mind. You’re not in control anymore, he is. 

You imagine him to be an old man, possibly middle-aged. Vampires stop aging when they’re turned. Their mind doesn’t. You’ve read the research plenty. They are wise beings, more intelligent than human beings could ever fathom. That makes them dangerous. 

Their venom rivals the intoxicating feeling of heroin, you’ve heard, and it heightens your senses to the point all you can feel is the one who bit you. Research suggests it’s a million times stronger than an orgasm, for both the vampire and the human being. 

Part of you has always wanted to try it. Part of you wants to know what it feels like to be sucked dry. You want to know what it feels like to be carried into a new dimension by someone who knows how to play the human body like a fucking piano, eliciting the sweetest melody through your very essence and the symphony of your moans.  

This M—Daredevil—is inherently dangerous. He’s as mysterious as they come; a man in a mask lurking in the dark corners of Hell’s Kitchen every night, turning the fight for justice into his hunting ground. 

It’s as though he curled his fingers, and you followed. 

You walk the dark hallway down to the door on the right. Paintings litter the walls. Masterpieces, blotches of white, red, and color. You recognize the red marble as a decorative theme on the wallpaper. Tracing your fingers over it, the rough drywall scratches at your skin. 

You reach out a shaky hand toward the golden knob. Before you can turn it though, the door already flings open. It must be witchcraft. 

Red appears to be his favorite color. At least judging from the hallway, that is true. When you step into the room with a pounding heart and blood pooling in your cheeks though, the inside of the room is a lot more… human. You wouldn’t have guessed it from the gloominess surrounding you on your way there.

A leather couch and armchairs stand in the middle, facing toward the window front. Colored windows, as you have gathered from the rumors. They are see-through now though, showing the city skyline and the moon up high. The chandelier on the ceiling is the only piece of furniture you would consider old. Browns meet hues of blue and dark green, a forest at midnight, and you suck in a sharp breath. The apartment is beautiful. 

You look to your left and see a bookshelf stretching the length of the wall. You can’t help but run your hand over the backs. You would have expected original editions from the 18th or 19th century, but when your fingers trace over the bindings, you are met with the bulging of Braille underneath the elegant golden writing of the titles. None of them seem to have collected dust. It surprises you to only find a mere handful of classics that haven’t been transcribed in Braille and a realization you did not expect starts to crawl its way forward.

“I stole that one from a library in Paris.”

Your racing heart stops beating. The book you’ve been holding falls to the ground, its worn-out leather cracking further around the spine. The thud is deafening. You gasp, turning around. Your shoulders fly up as the tension ripples through every last muscle in your bone. Your bones ache just from how stiff you’re standing, but you can’t move.

The man before you moves as quietly as a mouse. You didn’t hear him coming. The moonlight reflects off his dark brown hair, making it appear almost ginger. He’s wearing a simple suit without a tie, and the white of his shirt is as pristine and clean as the cut of his beard. You can see chest hair poking out from underneath the two open buttons, as dark as the locks on his head. His jawline is irresistibly sharp, leading up to a pair of plump lips he is wrapping around the brim of a crystal glass filled with rum.

Your heart remains frozen. Not a single drop of blood pumps through your veins, yet your cheeks burn brighter than a bonfire on a pitch-black night. 

But his flawless appearance is not what catches your attention the most. Looking up into his eyes, wanting to know whether they are as red as those set into the devil’s mask, you find nothing but your terrified reflection staring back at you. It’s as blurry as the picture of your face in a still ocean’s water, your wide eyes staring back at yourself. 

The red glasses are all you can see. Round with a black rim. Silver would have looked better on him, or maybe even gold. The black reminds you of an endless pit, a sinister embrace of vampire stereotypes, but you can’t look away from the maroon that won’t allow you even a glimpse into his eyes. They are shielding him from the world, and his eyes from curious, stupid humans like you.

He nods toward the ground. “You gonna pick that up?” he asks. His voice reminds you of rumbling gravel. 

He looks like a man. He talks like a man. If you didn’t know better, you would say he is human. There seems to be blood in his cheeks and air in his lungs. 

You have to pull yourself together. Clearing your throat, you bend down and pick the book back up.

“Thank you,” he utters your name. “It’s been a while since I’ve received visitors that don’t work for me.”

You put the book back on the shelf. Your lips are sewn shut; you can’t find the words. Every time you open your mouth like a fish on dry land, you close it again, and it is embarrassing to be standing in front of him with your guard down. 

“Welcome to my home,” he says. You wish you could see his eyes to know if he’s mocking you. “Do you want a drink, or do you need another minute to process?”

He is mocking you. His tone is gentle, as is his voice, but he smirks like a smug motherfucker, and your anger boils to a tipping point. The candle is about to burn out. 

“I–” you stammer. Internally, you curse yourself for being such a fool. 

“Another minute it is then.”

You don’t need a minute though. “You’re blind,” you blurt out. 

The beautiful—deadly—stranger nods. “Yeah.“

“How?”

“Accident when I was a kid.”

“But you’re…” you leave the missing part of that sentence hanging in the air like a noose. 

“Say it,” he murmurs. You want to say it sounds like a growl, but you’re not sure. He isn’t asserting dominance or trying to force you into submission by scaring you away, but he is toying with you regardless. 

You take a deep breath. The word, the truth, numbers your tongue and your lips with its weight. “A vampire,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, matching his. 

His smirk broadens. He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek for a moment, then releases it as it darts out to wet his bottom lip. “I’m a blind vampire, yes,” he answers. “We’re rare, but we do exist.”

Blind vampires. In all of your years of fascination, that has never crossed your mind. You used to believe that they had healing abilities that far exceeded your own. You were wrong. He lost his eyesight before he got turned into a vampire. He lived as a blind human being and didn’t regain his most crucial sense when he died. 

He came back to life, but he died. It is surreal to stand across from him. He’s not just letters on a piece of paper, he is very much real. And he’s blind. 

“Oh, my God,” you curse.

That elicits a soft chuckle from him. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” he says. 

“I was considering not to.” 

He sees right through you with those empty glasses. “That’s a lie.”

“How would you know?” you counter. 

“I can hear your heartbeat. The blood pumping in your veins…” His head tilts ever so slightly in your direction. You take a step back. It’s an instinct. “Your pulse picks up when you lie, or when you’re nervous, or both,” he states. “When you first saw me, your heart skipped a beat. It did again when you lied to me.”

Your eyes trail down to his thick thighs perfectly fitted in his tailored trousers. His thick digits pat the rhythm with his fingers on the fabric. Thud-thudthudthud-thud. You place a hand on your chest. He wasn’t wrong; your heart is racing. 

His smirk turns into a smile, but only briefly again. It’s a glimpse of humanity he doesn’t want you to see. “I like that sound,” he says. “Has anyone ever told you that you smell good? Sweet, sour, and a little salty. Natural. You don’t use a lot of artificial perfume, but you like cherry chapstick.”

You swallow, taking a whiff of your arm. Besides your deodorant masking the scent of your nervous sweat, you smell nothing. How good must his nose be? His hearing? His sense of taste? 

“Right now, sweat is dripping down your back, and your muscles are tense enough to strain against your bones every time you breathe. Your heart just skipped a beat again. You find it weird,” he muses. “I can’t turn it off, but I get it must be strange for you.” 

“You–” The blood has collected in your head, pushing the temperature in the room to an all-time high. “Get out of my body!” you snap. 

He laughs. “That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.”

“And I never thought you would ask for an audience with me, but here we are.”

“Here you are.” 

You want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face. He looks so smug, standing there with his drink, wearing a suit too fancy for his own home. He’s fully in his element. It’s scary how alluring he is, too. You don’t want to think that way, but as soon as your eyes gaze upon him again, your chest contracts, and you forget how to breathe. 

He’s a wolf, and you’re a lonely little sheep that doesn’t know any better. That lonely little sheep just wants to be a part of something bigger, even if that means surrendering herself to the big bad wolf. He wants a taste of her, and the sheep would give him that in a heartbeat if he just asked. 

You blink. There is a voice in your head, and it isn’t your own. Far from it. You don’t want to be associated with this stranger. She thinks she knows you. She thinks she knows what you want—the sheep in the eyes of her natural enemy. This voice is the most irrational you could be, and you need to stop letting her win.

And yet you—not just the voice of the lonely sheep you appear to be—would follow this man anywhere, even to hell if he asked you to. 

Your eyes drill knives into his skull, but they are also full of curiosity. Can he hear your thoughts? Your heart beats in your throat. You can taste it on your tongue. If you bit your lip, you would bleed, and he would probably fall into a frenzy. Still, your teeth dig into your bottom lip. What if he can hear your thoughts—hear how fucking needy you are? You’re pathetic. What he must think of you, standing across from him, smaller than human life itself. 

You want to read him, but he is far from an open book. He’s not Braille you can run your fingers over, and even if he was, you don’t know how to read it. He’s an enigma. His face is set in stone; an iron mask you can’t penetrate. 

His chest heaves with another chuckle. He sets the crystal glass down on the coffee table, taking a step forward. “No, I can’t read your mind,” he says. 

You flinch. “What?”

“Your breathing pattern. The way you look at me. I can sense that you’re thinking about something.” He adjusts his glasses. “It’s just… Most humans ask me if I can read their minds, you know. I can’t. Some vampires can, but my senses are the only heightened ability I have.” This time, when he chuckles, a hint of bitterness dances in his voice. 

“At least you’re not in my head then,” you say. 

“No.”

“Good.”

A pregnant pause follows. You clutch your bag to your chest, your fingers digging into the frame of your hidden laptop. 

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asks, pointing to his empty glass.

You wave him off. That’s the last thing on your mind. “No, thank you.”

Sometimes at night, you fantasize about diving into the abyss of darkness. It looks and sounds a terrifying lot like him. You want to know him. You need to know him. When it comes to him and this—whatever this is—the lines between want and need are blurring into an unidentifiable mess. It’s an ocean of emotions with no land in sight. A total eclipse of the heart, if you will. You’re losing your mind.

“What you can do–” You straighten your shoulder, hoping it will add height to your beaten confidence. “You can tell me your name. Sir,” you say. 

He nods. “I suppose it would only be fair, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Matthew. My name’s Matthew.” The softness of his features as his lips move to the rhythm of his words takes you back anew. His eyebrows raise slightly, and you catch a glimpse of a pair of beautiful, unfocused hazel eyes that steal your breath away. 

Matthew. It is a name that easily rolls off the tongue. It suits him.

You repeat his name aloud. “That’s an odd name for a 200-something-year-old man,” you point out. 

Matthew scoffs. “My parents were both Catholic.”

“I suppose you’re not?”

You hit a sore spot. His head dips, fingers running over his nails and tongue tracing his teeth. “Not anymore,” he says.

God died for him a long time ago, and all churches burned down.

Your grip on your bag loosens. “Then why Daredevil?” you ask. 

His lips part. “I, uh, have the Bulletin to thank for that one. After centuries of existing in this world, and being despised for no matter what I do, I’ve decided to embrace it. I am Daredevil, not even God can stop that now.”

Matt grabs his glass, turning away from you. He doesn’t use a cane to navigate from the couch to the mini bar on the other end of the room. You carefully follow his movements. One of his hands remains at his side, snapping his fingers as he navigates the familiar terrain of his home. 

He uncaps a half-empty bottle of Whiskey to pour himself another glass. 

“You know, Matthew,” you prompt, daring to step forward an inch, “as big as your reputation is in this part of the city, Silver Lining is not the kind of magazine that would cover your story.”

“You still came,” he says. 

“I could lose my job if anyone knew I came here.”

“And yet you’re here and not where you should be.” He turns his head over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t risk losing your job if it wasn’t important to you, would you?”

You stammer, “I–” He’s got you. You’re a fish with a hook in her mouth. 

“If Silver Lining Magazine won’t cover my story, why are you here?” Matt turns back to you, leaning back against the shiny Mahagoni of his minibar. It offers a beautiful contrast to his strong physique and the slight paleness of his skin. “Could it be because you’re fascinated by the mythic?” he asks, teasing. “By werewolves and witches and vampires?”

It’s your turn to scoff. “I won’t confirm or deny. My boss wouldn’t let me write a vampire vigilante exposé even if I begged him to.”

“And that’s why Mr. Doherty doesn’t deserve you.” Your body visibly recoils when he pushes forward, moving just an inch toward you. “Your curiosity is a virtue,” he purrs. The moonlight sets your reflection in his glasses alight. 

“Is that why you lured me here?” you ask him. “Because my curiosity is a virtue and you consider yourself better than the people in my life?”

“I didn’t lure you here, and I think you know that. That’s not what this is.” The distance between you starts to shrink, backing you into a corner. “I believe you came here because the thought of interviewing a vampire and sharing your findings with the world on your account excites you,” he says. “You want to be heard. You want to be taken seriously as a journalist, and you want to make people happy.”

The only way for you to come out of this with your pride and dignity still intact is to put up walls before the already existent labyrinth of walls keeping your heart guarded and your soul safe. “Again,” you ask, “why me?”

“Why not you? As I stated in my letter, I’m a fan of your work.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, about that. How did you write that if you’re blind?”

“I didn’t, my secretary did.”

“Of course.” Of course, he has a secretary. “I… I just don’t get it,” you say. “You’ve been hiding for so long–” 

Matt cuts you off with an urgency you didn’t expect, “Things have changed. Circumstances…” he trails off. 

“Wouldn’t it be a suicide mission?” 

His answer is silence. You let out an exasperated sigh. “If you want me to interview you, you have to be honest with me.”

“I’m not on the record yet.”

“Right. Maybe you can answer this though—off the record, of course—how can you be certain I didn’t call the cops or the FBI before I came here?”

His eyes crinkle. “I’m not stupid, sweetheart,” he says. 

He’s amused. You’re amusing him. 

“Don’t call me that,” you growl. 

He’s spreading you open, holding up a mirror for you to look into. It’s your miserable self in all its glory, and he knows you better than you know yourself. 

You ignore the sharp pain in your left ribcage as you pull the arrow out of your heart. “Unless someone holds up a sign that they are pro-vampirism, how would you even know I’d listen to you and not just refer you to the Journal of Psychiatry?” 

“Are you telling me you don’t believe in vampires?” Matt quips.

“That’s not… Answer my question!”

The sound of your heartbeat must sound almost like the rapid firing of a machine gun, that’s how fast your pulse is racing. Your veins threaten to burst with the excess blood. It’s a heat like no other. You’re a witch at the stake, and Matt is holding the torch to your gasoline-doused body. 

He clears his throat. Your face falls at the words that tumble out of his parted lips, and the rapid firing turns into a deafening silence and a monotone line on a heart monitor. 

“After what I’ve learned from reading Dr. Rice’s research on the phenomena of vampirism, I can confidently say this species is no different than an animal like the great white shark or the Homo sapiens sapiens—our kind,” he recites. “Vampires are a medium of fiction and propaganda to induce fear, but they are also a widely misunderstood species that is being silenced rather than heard. Our species, the human species, likes to consider themselves superior, even when we’re in a position of being someone’s natural food source. Dr. Rice’s research is based on a comprehensible set of facts, and isn’t that what we have been relying on ever since the beginning? Our psychology makes it possible for us to change the narrative in our favor, and more often than not, we ignore the very facts deemed by humans as an intellectual importance to spread the message of an entirely different agenda. Dr. Rice’s research only proves that egotism and humans themselves will be humankind's certain downfall.”

“My investigative journalism essay,” you breathe out. 

“Published by Columbia University.” 

Your heart restarts with a rush of adrenaline. “How… how do you know all of this?”

“I may be blind,” Matt says, “but I know how to read between the lines.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

The alcohol in his drink seems to have little effect on him. “I know you have questions, and I’m willing to answer them if you promise to publish a detailed report somewhere other than Silver Lining Magazine.”

You look down at your bag, then back at him. “Ben Urich could have told your story in a way that would’ve made people listen,” you murmur. “I don’t have an impressive career like him.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, “but you could have easily written ‘Attack on NYC’. Ben was a good man, an even better journalist, but he could not have written your college essay. And he could never have been you.” 

Your name rolls off his tongue—not a pretentious nickname that makes you want to vomit but your name, and it flicks a switch within you. 

You glance around the spacious living, pulling your laptop out of its confines, and you bridge the distance between you, finally. You notice he smells of sandalwood cologne and scentless soap. “Okay,” you cave. “Where do you want me to set up?”

Session 1.

The spacebar clicks underneath the tip of your index finger. The white of your screen fills with a series of red sequences as the microphone takes in every little sound around you. Except for the two of you and the fading footsteps of one of Matthew’s assistants though, the world has fallen silent in the dead of the night. He’s sitting across from you, legs crossed, head tilted; your life is about to change.

“So, Mister Murdock,” you begin, “tell me. How long have you been dead?” 

His mouth opens in a wide grin. “242 years,” he answers. 

“And what happened the year you died?”

“Well, it was 1782. I was a good few years out of law school. I was a good lawyer, but I wasn’t successful. That year, I met a beautiful woman at a banquet. I wasn’t rich—trust me, I was beyond penniless—but she had been adopted into a wealthy family, and that made her one of the richest women in the room. Everyone wanted her, but when I sensed her across the hall, she only had eyes for me. And she was the first woman to not see me just because I was blind.” He chuckles sadly. “I thought she was the woman of my dreams, the love of my life, but a few weeks later, after letting her into my life, I realized that she didn’t look at me that night because she was interested. She was hunting me. El— Miss Elektra Natchios…”

The year 1782 becomes apparent before your inner eye. As he tells you about the night he met her, you can see the dark-haired beauty making her way across the ballroom. Red lips and a gown to die for. Her dark eyes were full of mischief, but the passion in them could have knocked a grown man off of his feet. And that is just what she did to poor Matthew. 

“I was going to marry her,” he tells you.

He went to church regularly. His knees were bloody from praying, his senses already heightened before he died. God’s soldier, that is how he puts it. He was told that the accident that left him blind happened for a reason, and he had to fight a war that went beyond the country’s fight for independence. 

That summer, Elektra drained him. He didn’t know what she was. She fooled him. He was obsessed with her. Her dark eyes he couldn’t see lured her in, and it was the venom in her blood that became his downfall after she dug her teeth into him.

Matt tried to beg his priest for forgiveness, but he didn’t even make it past the marble stairs before the doors locked. He knelt in a pool of blood—both his and that of the first human he ever sucked dry to survive as a newborn vampire—offering an eternal sacrifice to Catholicism, but God abandoned him on his doorstep. 

The church walls would have been set on fire if he had touched them from the inside. 

You look up from your notepad to find him now standing at the window. He’s not looking out, of course, but he seems so deep in thought, the memories that aren’t your own but his start to dissipate, and you’re brought back to the here and now.

Matt poured his heart out to you. You expected answers, but not this kind, and certainly not of this magnitude. You see him in an entirely different light. He’s vulnerable, fragile, and human. He has endured trauma that killed him, but he couldn’t die because the woman he loved made him immortal. It’s a bigger curse than growing up with the belief that an accident made you God’s soldier. 

He lost everything. For centuries, he has had to live with that. It’s killing you, feeling his pain, the pure agony that radiates off him. 

Your voice is quiet when you ask him, “What was it like?” You don’t have to say it out loud for him to know what you are referencing.

Matt chuckles, the sound a mere breath in the atmosphere. “Like she took my soul from my body, setting fire to my belief system and already heightened senses,” he says. 

You swallow. “That sounds… overstimulating.”

“It was. Is. My heart stopped, but when that happened, something else awoke inside me. The hunger… the hunger was the worst part. It’s insatiable. One hour passes, and you feel like you’ve been starving for weeks.”

“Like you’ve been possessed by a demon?”

“Like I am the demon.”

“But you’re not.” You should stop the recording. You’re not on track; you’re incorporating your feelings into Matt’s story, but you can’t help it. The words tumble out of your mouth without a second thought, a train that cannot be stopped. 

He raises his eyebrows, you can see it in his reflection in the windows. “Are you religious?” he asks.

You shake your head. “This isn’t about me.”

“Are you?”

The veins on the back of his hands bulge as he balls them to fists at his sides. Your throat is a desert, and your heartbeat resembles a storm that burns right through it, sending the sand flying in all directions of the horizon.

You adjust in your seat, crossing one leg over the other. He takes a whiff. He’s smelling you, and that doesn’t help the speed of your pulse to calm down. 

Tapping your pen on your notepad, you watch the red sequences fill the white space of the recording program. It moves with the sound of your voice when you finally dare to answer. “It’s a complicated question because there is a difference between believing in God and believing in the church,” you say.

“Do you believe in God then?” Matt asks. It’s as though he’s trying not to seethe at the mere mention of someone he used to worship. You make a note of that.

“There is so much bad in this world. So much cruelty. I can’t…” You take a deep breath. “I don’t know how to believe in a God that would let the things humans do to each other happen. If God existed—if he was as merciful as Christians like to claim, he wouldn’t let this happen. And I’m so sick and tired of people using their faith, and their beliefs in God and the church as justification to be disrespectful. I don’t understand it. How can anyone? Why is someone who has to drink blood to stay alive—someone who didn’t even choose this life—worth less and the devil’s breed when humans do worse things to each other? Why would God allow us to start wars that kill innocent people? Children? It’s just not fair that we treat ourselves and others as though we are already in hell, and we’re just supposed to accept that God doesn’t care—” You stop yourself, the tears burning behind your eyes. 

Matt turns back around. You can’t look away. “When I was still human,” he murmurs, “I used to believe everything that happened to me was God’s will. The accident, God’s will. Me going blind, God’s will. I went to confession, prayed until my knees were bloody and bruised. I tried convincing myself that every scream I heard from down the block, every person who lost their life or their innocence was my responsibility. God made me this way for a reason, right?” The scoff is as bitter as the liquor in his glass. “I fell apart, you know. I was a kid, so I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand what was happening to me,” he tells you. 

You hold your breath. The glasses slip from his eyes as he takes them off with shaky fingers. You are met with the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes. Emotions dance a heated tango in a tornado. If you look closer, the green specks bring life to his eyes. It’s human nature in the purest sense of the word. 

Your reflection stands in his irises, his unmoving pupils, and the tears glisten in his eyes. They’re as red as blood, watered-down crimson essence. You want to reach out and stroke his cheek, but that would be crossing a very big line that you can’t bring yourself up to touch. 

“I studied law because I thought it would change something,” he continues. You listen. It’s the only thing you can do—listen. “It wasn’t enough. Nothing I ever did felt like it was enough. I lost my father. Jack. I didn’t know my mother until it was too late. Maggie. I had no one. No money, no prospects, just me and those voices in my head, telling me I was supposed to be God’s soldier.”

“You’re not,” you cut in. 

He shakes his head. “I prayed; I crawled up the stairs of the church, and I spent hours repenting for my sins. I bled myself dry for Him. I sacrificed myself. I sacrificed my youth, my heart, and my soul, and I got nothing back. I begged for help until my voice was sore, but nothing… God, nothing was ever good enough. Until Elektra came around,” he says. 

“She changed everything for you. It makes sense. She turned you into a vampire, but she also loved you.”

“She did love me, in her own twisted way.”

“It’s what you deserved,” you say.

He isn’t yours, but the pang you feel in your chest is treacherous. Your heart cracks like a porcelain vase, jealousy creeping in like a parasite of toxic waste.

In response, Matt only chuckles bitterly. “She made me believe again, then took my soul and crushed it in her hand.” The correction makes your shoulders slump. “Instead of feeling like my world ended though, I felt at peace when she sucked the blood out of my veins and fed me her venom,” he says. “It’s sick, I know. I was aware I died that night, that she turned me into a devil who could only survive if he drank the blood of others. The Catholic in me struggled to accept it, but I had no choice but to embrace what she made me.”

“And where is she now?” you ask.

“Gone.” The light in his eyes has fully disappeared now. “I stayed with her for a while until she died in my arms. She showed me what love is, and she showed me heartbreak. She made me hungry for blood, awakening the devil I’ve been trying to tame. She taught me how to feed, how to hunt, and how to chase. But she also cursed me,” he says. “I only exist for myself now. I only bleed for myself. No God, no church, and no more religion. I’m not Jesus, I’m Judas, and I retired the cross the day I was crucified.”

You have run out of questions to ask. Too overwhelming is the sight of his walls crumbling down, this stranger you now know better than any living being seems to. You no longer see money in this, or a story to chase, you only see Matthew, and the halo above his head he still believes is a pair of horns. The world broke him. His faith in God broke him. It crushed him, and he lost everything. How broken he must be. 

“Not such a pretty story when I say it out loud, huh?” He scoffs.

The spacebar clicks again. The recording comes to a sudden halt. One hour and fifty-eight minutes, the first session of your interview with the vampire. You need to put a halt to it now because what you are about to say or do as you reach your hand out to brush his cold, dead skin is not something that should be found on a record. And you won’t ever tell.

Matt pulls away when your warm fingertips brush his. You’re standing across from him now, so close he can smell, hear, and feel all of you at once.

Your touch is the holy water that burns his skin, but the fire sustains him and shoots straight to his core the same way the blood rushes to yours.

“It’s not a pretty story, no,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “but it did tell me what I already knew.”

“And what’s that?” he asks.

“That you’re not evil. You’re not the Devil. You’re misunderstood. You’ve been beaten; you’ve been abandoned, hurt, and broken. That doesn’t make you a monster. Trying to make this city a better place does not make you a monster.”

“If you only knew the things I’ve done…”

“I know the rumors suggest that you were the one who fought Wilson Fisk and got this city back where it needed to be. You’ve saved countless women from the worst of fates. You are the reason the innocent people of Hell’s Kitchen feel safe. By picking up that mask, you became a hero, not a villain, and that is the story I want to tell.”

In lightspeed, he has moved you from the window to the other end of the room. Your back hits the wall. 

Matt towers over you in all of his intimidating glory. His eyes spark red, but you hold his unfocused gaze. He has such beautiful eyes. This pull between you is far from human; it’s unhealthy, and it is exactly where he wanted to get you. You’re trapped, pinned underneath him like a deer caught in headlights. 

Exhaling, your breath strokes his cheeks. He closes his eyes, savoring the taste of you. Every particle in the air, he inhales. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. Oh, what you wouldn’t do to suck that tongue into your mouth. 

Your pheromones play his head like a puppeteer pulling the strings of his marionette. He growls. “Do you have any idea how dangerous I am?” 

The moonlight catches his sparkling white teeth. This time though, you come face to face with the sharp edges of his previously concealed fangs. Your jaw drops open. He’s ethereal. 

“I could snap your neck—” Matt places his hand on your neck, “I could make that heart stop beating, take the air from your lungs. I could eat you…” He traces the vein in your throat from your jaw to your collarbone. “I could bite you and suck your blood until you’re empty. I could kill you, sweetheart. My kind is your natural enemy. You shouldn’t be here.”

You shudder. His nose brushes the sensitive skin below your ear. He’s so close you can smell him. On inhale, and his scent consumes your senses. He is all you can feel now. You reach out to hold onto his arms, his muscles tensing under your teeth. He’s big and strong, and those hands have a mind of their own as they begin to wander but never where you need him most. 

You shouldn’t be here, yet you came. He asked you to him, and you complied. Is this your fate now? Chasing after your big bad wolf like the helpless sheep that you are?

Your walls clench around an agonizing emptiness, your swollen clit brushing against your soaked underwear. Whatever he is doing to you, it’s the cruelest form of torture. 

A strangled noise breaks out of the back of his throat, rumbling in his chest. “You have no idea how badly I want to taste you,” he breathes. 

“Do it,” you beg. “Taste me.”

He utters your name again. “Stop.”

“Please.”

Your tone shatters him. When he kisses you, finally, fireworks explode in the universe around you. All the stars seem to finally align. Your heart opens, and it sucks him right into you. Your soul yearns for him. He’s so close yet so far away. 

The moon stands between you, but you cross even that ocean as you push against him, forcing your tongue into his mouth. He takes like heaven and hell; he’s the apple Eve bit into and cursed her for all eternity. But he’s also the snake, the one who compelled you to take this journey of bad decisions and jump right off the cliff’s edge. You melt into him like a broken candle. 

He pulls away. Those fangs are alluring, as sharp as a knife’s tip. You want to know what it would feel like gracing your skin, digging into your as he thrusts his cock into your tight cunt. The thought alone sends your mind into a spiral.

Your lips are swollen, but he has yet to draw blood. Matt looks as though he wouldn’t dare, his eyes darting around in a darkened conflict he feels might cost him more than your dignity. You are begging for it, as is your body, but he’s holding himself back. He’s the one who tied himself to an invisible pillar, keeping his hands locked behind his back. But that is not the Matt you want. 

You lean your head to the side, exposing the length of his neck. All control has slipped from your fingers. It’s in his hands now—you are. He cups your head gently. A mere few inches lie between your fountain and his lips.

You press a kiss to his calloused palm—a desperate and needy kiss, tracing your tongue over the lines that tell his life’s story in a way no interview can retell—and it is then he is forever done for. He’s doomed, and you are the second woman to pull him under the pits of hell. 

Saliva drips from his fangs. You hold your breath. He hisses, a weak admission of surrender; the words die miserably on your tongue when his lips close around your pulse point with all his might, and his teeth drive home. 

You moan aloud. Your fingers tangle in his hair, forcing him deeper as he sucks the dark red essence out of your vein. The sensation is more than you bargained for. It’s a drug that wrecks your system. The synapses in your brain backfire with all their might, and what follows the initial explosion of pleasure shooting white hot through your being is complete and utter silence as this God of a man feeds on you. 

The invisible string between you glows a bright crimson. It slings around you, tying you together like the roots of a tree. It’s an eternal sacrifice. You are giving your all to him, the very core of your existence that is now flowing into his mouth. You swear you can hear his thoughts mingle with yours. Yes, more, please. You taste so good. Your knees buckle, but you remain standing strong. He makes sure you don’t fall. Don’t slip away from me. I need you. 

A tear rolls down your cheek. You could sob. It feels so good—too good to be true. In that moment, you become one. There is no telling where one begins and the other ends. The coil in your stomach tightens, and the only pain you feel is the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. He’s taking everything as you give him everything, but it is not enough. It has never been enough. 

When your body struggles to catch up with the lack of blood, he pulls away. His fangs drag out of your neck agonizingly slowly. You whimper at the sudden loss.

Matt catches you as you stumble into his arms. “You okay?” He cradles your face, brushing the hair out of your face. Your blood stains his lips. Blinking up at him, the force of your metaphysical connection slaps you awake. 

You cease to exist in all solar systems but his. 

He pokes the tip of his index finger with the sharp edge of one tooth, sliding it over the two holes that are pulsating with the work of your heartbeat.

“I shouldn’t have—” he begins. 

“No,” you say. “You did exactly what you should have.”

“I couldn’t stop.”

“But you did.” You wipe the blood from his mouth. “And I felt you. I only felt you.”

The living room passes by you. Before you know it, your back lands on something much softer than a concrete wall. He’s not a monster, that one, but he surely is an animal. 

You taste your blood on Matt’s luscious lips as he devours your tongue. It tastes of copper and a little bitter, but that is what makes him moan. That sound is the last thing you could ever grow tired of. 

His palm rests on your chest. Your heart pounds against his palm. “You’re so alive,” he says.

You cradle his face in your hands. “And you’re more human than you think.”

If he wanted to pull your heart out and hold it, you would let him in a heartbeat. 

He leans you back. He strips you bare. He kisses down your body like you are a fucking masterpiece for him to explore. That is how he sees you. 

Your head falls back. The kisses wander from your hips to the inside of your thighs. Every kiss brings his breath closer to your center. Matt pulls them apart. He opens you up to him. Your scent clouds his senses, and he groans, but he doesn’t touch. 

His fangs graze your skin. “Mine,” he growls. 

You gasp. He bites into the sensitive flesh. Hard, passionately. Your legs wrap around his head, trapping him there. He sucks, and he sucks, and he drinks, and the wetness pools out of your cunt in an obscene amount. This is foreplay to him. It drives you toward the edge leading to an abyss you are afraid you might never be able to crawl back out of. There is no bottom, it is just a pit, and he’s pushing you closer and closer, and—

Your back arches, but he pulls away before the coil can snap into a million butterflies. He pries your legs away from his head, spreading them further on the mattress, as far apart as they will go. 

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner have been served on a silver platter. He breathes in. The scent of your soaked pussy sticks to the hairs in his nose. It isn’t enough. He breathes in again, your arousal sweeter than fiction. You’re everything and more. He wants to taste that part of you more than anything, suck up the slick that is soaking the sheets—and you didn’t even think that was possible—but he waits because he needs to savor it. He doesn’t want it to be over too soon. neither for him nor for you. 

The blood is still dripping from his tongue and his fangs, and the raw inside of your thigh. He runs his finger through it. The sting runs from the wound to your folds, then back down. Still, he doesn’t touch. He plays with the blood, sucking on his fingers until they’re clean, and then he dives back in for a taste. He doesn’t bite, he kisses and sucks, but he doesn’t push it further. He doesn’t hurt you. 

You’re his saving grace; he has to worship you. Pain only has a place in pleasure. 

“Matthew,” you moan. 

He chuckles, kissing where his fangs left deep indentations. “No one will ever touch you again,” he purrs. “I’ll make sure of that.” 

You try to protest, but the words die on your tongue when he leans in, capturing your clit with his hungry mouth. The wound on your thigh closes. The blood from his lips mixes with your juices, and you cry out at the intensity of it all. 

He eats you with the ferocity of a man starved for weeks. He eats your pussy like he ate your blood, savoring every drop but still feasting for the taste to spread out in his mouth like wildfire. Sour, sweet, and copper. He sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth. His tongue drags through your folds, up and down, and then the tip slides inside, tasting your walls. He grows bolder as your moans accelerate. 

Matt cradles your thighs. He forces your hips back down to the mattress, stronger than the average human man. You have to endure his beard scratching and burning, and the pace he has set.

The orgasm creeps up on you. Before you know it, he has plunged his tongue into you, and your body convulses around him. You scream into a pillow as you come. 

You are each other’s forbidden fruit. No prayer in the world could keep you apart. 

Faintly, you can hear him say, “Good girl.” Your legs quiver. He pulls away, then comes right back like a boomerang. 

He’s warm now. He was cold before, but when he kisses you this time, he’s warm. He’s hot. You run your hands over his bare chest, the scars that lie under the dark strands of hair. You tug at it, and he moans. You can tell he is a little insecure, but by pressing your lips to one of the cuts on his shoulder, he relaxes. 

What he must have endured, what he must have lived through before he died and was resurrected in the same breath, just without a beating heart—you don’t want to think about it or you will break, but you can still feel him through the crimson tie that holds you together, and you know that he has suffered enough for more than two lifetimes. You wish you could take it all away from him. You wish you could have saved him before it was too late, loved him more than the woman who turned him, but turning back time is an impossibility. You are both acutely aware of that. 

“Hey.” Matt tilts your head toward him. “Where did you just go?” he asks. 

“Thinking about you,” you murmur. 

“Me?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be your salvation.”

You. His salvation. He kisses you, softly this time. He pours gratitude into his lips and bleeds them out in poetry as they slide into your mouth, and you swallow every last drop. 

If someone had told you a week ago where you would see yourself on that particular Monday, you would have laughed at them. And if someone had told you a week ago that you would be making love to the devil, you would have called them crazy. But it’s happening. 

He thrusts into you without a warning. His thick cock fills you like nothing and no one ever has before. Your cunt has been molded to fit him, you’re sure. You take him in, and you moan at the stretch. It’s a pain so delicious you could fall apart right then and there just from the feel of him inside you. 

Every thrust drags the tip of his cock along your sweet spot. Every added sensation drives you closer to your death. 

Your body tingles. He explores your face with his lips rather than his fingers, moving to your neck again. You cling to him, oh-so-desperate for him. He likes you like that, and you like him like that. 

“You’re fucking with my head,” he tells you. “Offering your pussy to a vampire. Letting me drink your blood. Begging me to fuck you. You’re in my head, baby. Can’t get you out of my system. Fuck.”

You are his downfall, his salvation, but he is all of those things to you as well—all of those things and more. If he could read your mind, you would tell him that. Words can’t do justice to how you feel. Not right now, maybe not ever. 

“Bite me again,” you beg.

His thrusts falter. He searches your body for any sign of regret. His fangs come out, and he buries them deep in your jugular vein. The floodgates open wide. Your walls clench around his cock, your clit pulsates, and the wave crashes into you. 

You come as he devours your neck and your blood. You transcend into another dimension, far away from everything and everyone but never him. Never Matthew.

The sensation of you wraps around him like a weighted blanket. His balls tighten, your blood unfolding its taste on his tongue. You are all over him, inside of him, everywhere at once. He falls head-first, dragging you down with him. 

He comes with a shout that is only muffled through his teeth buried in your flesh, his cum spurting into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your eyes roll back. You’re flying and falling all at once. 

Oh, how good it feels to be consumed by him. To be fucked and sucked dry. You would have never expected this to come out of your week, let alone your life, but now that it has happened, you are floating on cloud nine. 

Dizziness threatens to take over, but before you can pass out, he forces himself away, allowing your heart to catch up with the lack of blood in your system. He collapses on top of you. His cock softens, but he stays inside. You need him there. You want him there. And that is the only place he wants to rest tonight. 

He heals the wounds on your neck. “You have a mark,” Matt rasps, tracing your skin with his finger. 

You choke out, “Yours.”

“Yes, you are.” He kisses you there. Once, twice, even a third time. “Mine,” he says.

You’re his. He’s yours. It doesn’t get any better than this. 

The minutes tick away on the obnoxious clock on the wall. Matt pulls out eventually, wrapping you up in a blanket. He coaxes you to drink, but you’re barely lucid. Only when he begins to stroke your hair you start coming back to yourself. You thought you might regret it, but as you look at him, his almost guilty eyes staring back at you, all you can do is reach out for him. 

“Session two tomorrow?” you ask.

He chuckles and retorts, “Have I not scared you away?” There is some truth to it though.

He’s covered in your blood. It sticks to his lips, his hands, and his chest. It’s sickeningly intimate, in a way.

You shake your head in response. “You could not possibly.”

He listens to your heartbeat. You’re as honest as they come. 

“Okay,” Matt says. “Session two tomorrow then.”

That night, you fell in love with the Devil, but he also fell in love with you, his angel in the form of a reckless journalist, and the only blood he ever wants to taste again until the end of his miserable, cursed days. 

Matt Murdock (Smut) Tag List: @shouldbestudying41 @theradioactivespidergwen @cheshirecat484 @1988-fiend @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-girl-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife

[glassartpeasants]

If you don't make a happy ending for couldn't care less you better keep bob with you at all times

HOW DARE YOU THREATEN BOB YOU KNOW WHAT-

Couldn’t Care Less .2

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, abuse, gore

~~~

“i hope that blue haired fuck got what he wanted. I hope that handyman freak dies alone.” You say to yourself as you walk down the alleys way of Musutafu. The smell of the dingey and moldy alleyways flood your nose as the laughter of happy couples ring in your ears. 

How come they got they’re happily ever after but you didn’t? It wasn’t fair. You did everything you could to be there for him. Yet he still treats you like shit, all because you cared about him? And then he thinks your cheating all cause you ask a male friend for advice! What an insecure asshole.

A vibrating in your pocket brought you back to reality as you realize your phone was ringing. Letting out a sigh you answer,

“Hello?”

“Come pick up your shit.” Oh, you thought you blocked this fuck.

“Keep it asshole. I don’t want anything that smells like ‘lonely bastard who only gets action from his hand’  on my clothes.  Burn it, decay it, I couldn’t give a shit less.”

“God you were always so dramatic. And there’s no reason to be a cunt.”

“And there was no reason for you to be an insecure dick. You either block my number or im calling the police and ratting on you.” A silence fell over the phone. Nothing was said until you finally spoke up.

“Jeez your pathetic. I’ll do it myself.” He was about to say something, insult your most likely before you hung up the phone and blocked him not seconds later.

“Now he’s outta my hair. I can finally feel some sort of calm.”

~~~

3 weeks later

After a day of coming back to your musty apartment you decided it needed a little bit of cleaning, considering you haven’t been their in about 4 months. You paid up front all the time even when you weren’t living in it. Just in case ya know?

You swept up the floors, vacuumed the carpet AND shampooed it.Cleaned the tub, shower and sinks, cleaned out your empty refrigerator, washed all you sheets and what clothes you left there. It wasn’t much so you knew you had to get some more before anything else. That and groceries.

 After all that was said and done, you sat down on the couch and just relaxed. Well you tired, that was before Shigaraki popped into your head again. It wasn’t a sort of loving way, it was a hatred sort of. The thought of his stupid face made you just want to punch a wall, pretending to be his face.

But you ignored it as you turned on the Tv, hoping that would get your mind off him. Nothing interesting except the news. Always talking about violence and war. Same old thing over and over. Blood, death, tragedy.

“This world is a cruel unjust place. The only way it seems to be recognized in this world is death or doing horrible things. Nothing good every comes to fruition.” You grumble before walking to your room and plopping down on the nice clean and still warm sheets. The nice smell of lavender slowly dragging you to sleep.

~~~

A loud bang hit your door which ripped you from your slumber. You were questioning on checking it out before you heard something that made your heart stop,

“If there’s anyone in the house kill them, we can’t have people knowing we ransacked this place.” You slowly get off your bed before moving slowly and quietly to your window. Your push your fingers on the glass and you gently push it up. Grabbing at the sides of the window you pull yourself out of it, not before hearing a gunshot and a burning pain inside your calf.

“Fuck! They’re getting away!” You could hear them from inside the house.

“Did they see you?!” You fell from your window onto the ground. Thankfully your apartment was on the first floor so it wasn’t a high drop.

“Not that i know of! I did shot them in the leg so they shouldn’t have gotten far!” You try your hardest as you run towards the main street. Cutting through alleyways, going as fast as you can as you hear they’re footsteps behind you. Looking up closely you see a hero, knowing he was your only chance you scream for help.

“Help me please!” The hero’s head turned towards you and ran towards you. You guess the robbers heard your cry for help because they’re footsteps seemed to be heading back your probably trashed apartment.

“Oh my! What happened?!” The sound of the hero’s concerned voice calmed you down a bit. 

“Some people tried to rob my place and i tried to get out of there silently but they must have came into my room and saw me leaving and shot me in the calf!” You wince as putting pressure on the wound burned hotter than hell.

“Don’t worry! I’ll get you to the hospital in no time!” You felt relieved before hearing a crunching sound, you looked to your left and see a familiar patch of blue hair in your peripheral vision. You ignored him before getting picked up by the hero and was carried to the hospital. The blood loss from your calf slowly dragged you into unconsciousness.

~~~

After waking up you notice the white room you were in. It was pristine to the touch and smelled of lemon cleaning products. The bright lights hallways peered inside your room from the crack of your door.

Looking around the small feeling of pain crept back into your leg except not as painful anymore. Pulling back the covers you notice bandages and a small bit of blood that stained through the bandages around your wound.

“Ah fuck that’s gonna scar. It’s gonna be a pain to heal too.” You say to yourself as you pull back the blankets and wrap yourself up in them. 

Right as you were falling back asleep the ringing of your cellphone brought you out. Grumbling in annoyance you grab it and look at the caller id. It was a number you didn’t recognize so you just let it ring thinking it’ll be the end of it. That was until it started ringing again. You sighed in frustration and picked up the phone, not wanting it to ring longer since it was in the dead of night at the hospital and you wanted people to be able to sleep.

“What the hell do you want? It’s the middle of the night.” You annoyed voice rang into the other side of the phone.

“Why tf were you talking to a hero? Did you fucking break your end of the bargain?” You were confused at first. You definitely knew the voice behind the phone. Then you remembered earlier that day when you saw him in the shadows.

“I was literally shot. You think im not gonna ask someone for help?” You rub the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t believe you. You always were a two faced bitch.”

“Oh jesus fuck, thanks for the insult. Glad to know what you always thought about me.”

“I’m going to kill you you backstabbing bitch.”

“Love ya too. goodnight and goodbye Shigaraki.” You hung up and blocked said number. You weren’t going to lie, hearing him spill such an insult and threat hurt you and made you very weary and afraid if he would actually go through with it or if he was just saying that to scare you.

You knew what those hands could do and you knew how painful that death would have been. You were hurt more than you liked to admit, at the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t aggressive or mean at all towards you.  He’d try to get you flowers or your favorite type of drink. He called you pet names that would make your heart flutter and beat, you don’t know what you did wrong for him to change so suddenly. It was like on day he flipped a switch, and you never knew why.

You tried recalling the day where it started and remembered that everyone was annoyed or being rude to Dabi, you didn’t know why and when you asked Spinner or anyone else they just said it was national, be a bitch to Dabi day. You laughed and shrugged it off ignoring it before walking up to your boyfriend giving him a kiss on the lips, only to be pushed into the wall and ignored. You just looked at him in shocked and it had only spiraled down from there to where you are now. 

Something had to be wrong. You knew it, Dabi had to have something to do with Shigaraki’s switch in behavior. You looked around the room for any camera and when you noticed that there were none, you called up the burnt male himself. He surprisingly picked up on the first ring.

“(Y/N)? I haven’t heard from you in 3 weeks. Or was it four? Doesn’t matter, where have you been?”

“Dabi, i need you to be honest with me, did you say something to Shigaraki?”

“Huh?”

“Dabi, five months ago Shigaraki flipped a switch and went from a caring boyfriend to an actually nightmare. I need to know if you or anyone else said something to him.” Dabi was quiet on the other line before sighing,

“About that time range i made a joke about sleeping with you, everyone knew it was a joke but apparently Shigaraki didn’t. I didn’t think he’d treat you like he did. Im sorry.” You fell silent. All this shit treatment because Shigaraki couldn’t a joke. Sure it pissed you off that Dabi made such a stupid joke but you were more mad at Shigaraki that he just treated you like shit instead of asking you and confronting you about it.

“Thank you for telling me. Do you know where Shigaraki is now?”

“He left about an hour ago, why?” Shit. You knew this was the only hospital close to your place and Shigaraki knew that too. You got up from your bed and locked the door before going back into your bed, watching the crack under your door incase the light was blocked.

“Dabi, I just want you to know that i forgive you.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about-” Your phone went silent as the battery died.

‘Shit shit shit shit!’ you thought to yourself as you beg for the phone to turn back on. But you fell silent as the light from the outside of your room was blocked.

“(Y/N), I know you're in there, open the fucking door before i decay it down.” You said nothing in fear. You were glued to your bed as you faced the door.

But that fear was nothing compared to seeing him actually decay the door.

“You stupid snitch. i should make your death as painful as possible.” he said as soon as he stepped inside your hospital room. 

“Shigaraki, I didn’t snitch I promise. Why don’t you believe me!” You say as you get off your bed and try to get as far away from him as possible. The pain of the bullet would making you wince.

“Why would I believe a cheating bitch like you?” Before you could speak a four fingered grip wrapped itself around your throat. Shigaraki was always fast, you should have known that you were gonna die even if you tried your hardest.

“I didn’t cheat on you!” You try to pry yourself from shigaraki’s grip.

“Dabi says otherwise.”

“Are you really going to believe him?! You didn’t even talk to me or ask me about it! Just went straight to believing him!” The grip on your neck got tighter.

“then why was they’re a hickey on your collarbone?!”

“You gave it to me! It was fading out!”

“That doesn’t change the fact you snitched!” His pinkie was grazing closer to your skin.

“I never snitched, I was robbed and then they shot me. If you went to my apartment you would see i was right.” He said nothing just staring at you with cold dead eyes. 

“Look! I have bandages wrapped around my calf!” Shigaraki looked down before saying something back.

“It was something the hero’s did so they could protect you in this shit hospital.” I was at that moment you knew, nothing you said would change his mind. You shed not a tear while looking him in the eyes

“I wish I never met you. Fuck you Tomura Shigaraki, I hope you die alone and I’ll see you in hell.” You move your head so his last and final finger touched your skin.

The pain of your skin decaying and falling off was much more painful than you thought it would be. You can remember screaming in pain but, it felt more of a emotional scream rather than one of physical pain. but it seems you weren’t the only one screaming.

The sounds of Shigaraki wailing and screaming your name reached your ears before all you heard was silence and saw nothing.

Shigaraki scrambled to try and grab you and even put you together, but your bloody ashes stuck to his hand. Remains of your existence covered his clothes as he screamed in pain. 

“No no no no! Wait please! I didn’t mean it!” He cried as his tears fell onto your ashes, the tears collecting the ashes and forming a grey tear drop. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he’s sorry! He didn’t want to kill you! 

Bile rose from his throat as he puked all over the ground, inches away from your ashes. He grabbed your ashes trying to pick them up to hold what was left of you. But all he got was the remains of your smeared all over his hoodie. He shook violently as  memories of you guys replayed in his mind, your happy face and the way you use to love him and care for him.

But now, you were nothing more than ashes on his sleeve, reminding him that he was now truly alone.

[ravenkinnie]

TW: Drugs, substance abuse, murder, violence, the Punisher

Another potentially unpopular opinion I've seen on here (and one that I'll actually rant about) is that, Jason is the only good vigilante in the Batfam because he kills people (think the direct quote is "unlike those other feckless bitches" and something like "when you get saved by Red Hood, you know that you'll never have to worry about getting attacked by the same person again". I don't know how to explain to people that killing the type of criminals Jason killed in canon is wrong and harmful (thinking about the 80 Blackgate prisoners he poisoned - hmm you know the American prison system is pretty fucked up i'm sure they all totally belonged there /s). Like. Jason killing the Joker is one thing, but he literally hasn't killed the Joker - Dick did that, Bruce tried to, but Jason hasn't. But like some people make it out like oh, Jason being a killer is fine because he only kills people that deserve it - who, tell me who he's killing? Sex offenders and drug dealers seems to be the most common reply. And I won't touch the sex offenders but drug dealers? Have you heard of the War on Drugs? Have you seen what happens when people in power decide it's okay to openly promote the killing of drug dealers? I don't understand why people think it's fine for Jason Todd to go around killing drug dealers, as if they don't have families, don't have other things that put them in a bad situation. There's a reason why cops in the US (idk if they do this elsewhere) use the Punisher skull as their emblem - and if you advocate for a Jason Todd that punishes criminals, don't be surprised when the right wing weaponizes him against minorities and the red hood helmet starts to get painted on cop cars.

I wrote a paper on the Norwegian prison system which rehabilitates and releases even the "worst" of criminals and just... I live in the US and it seems like we (specifically white people) have such little compassion for anyone who commits crime. Even after the War on Drugs, even after we learned it was a scam, people fall for the crime and punishment rhetoric time after time. Like I live in a suburb where people are so scared of drug dealers my mom literally called our neighbor because someone cut through our yard (and she thought he looked high or something idk). Which I get it, my cousin died from a fentanyl overdose, I understand you don't want that near your kids. But incarcerating or killing drug dealers is not the answer, and I can't stand it when people take that stance on Jason. You can try to explain the 8 drug dealer heads in a duffle bag any way you want, but at the end of the day, I think the batfamily fandom needs to be more careful addressing this issue because demonizing drugs/drug dealers/drug users is literally one of the ways the American government destroys black communities.

And to think, the Jason Todd stan that this opinion came from replied to me because I commented on how Jason likes to run around in Dick's old clothes - something that has absolutely no bearing on his morals, other than he's thrifty which is a good thing actually, something like 85% of clothes ends up in landfills. Sorry for the rant, you asked for it. Sorry if anyone who sees this likes Jason Todd and is offended, you're not bad for liking him, he has an interesting story, just please don't advocate for murdering common criminals, specifically drug dealers.

AAAHHH NOO BUT IVE SEEN SOME OF MY MOOTS DISCUSS THIS BEFORE

sorry it's late and fucking hot I don't have the most comprehensive reply dbdnhd and I do acknowledge that at the end of the day this is fiction but opinions real people hold come from SOMEWHERE - and I think we have a very ingrained belief that crime/bad deed has to be punished and that there are good and evil people and good people only do bad things when influenced by evil people which is exactly the core of jason's belief - and that's interesting for a batfam character, a former robin!! I like when him and bruce are contrasted based on ethics but I don't like when it's meant to show that jason is right and bruce is wrong

batman is an extremely popular and fascinating character because at his core lies the idea that systems that are in place to 'protect' people are corrupt and it's down to individuals who can do something to go against them and look out for others - that's something that will resonate with people even if irl solution can't be to dress up as a bat and beat tf outta people shdhhshs

I have two points to make here:

a) I'm straight up a fucking anarchist who lives in the woods, thinks aliens are listening, and doesn't trust the government but I don't believe systems are corrupt, I believe they operate the way they are meant to operate to punish and control the populations that the system needs to be controlled to keep up the status quo - war on drugs is such a good example for that. drug dealer also exists as this boogeyman, this idea of an evil person waiting to corrupt and destroy the good people but the fact is: people don't get addicted to drugs bc drug dealers exist, people get addicted to drugs because something, not someone, compels them to do drugs, because something (literal us gov) introduced drugs to their communities and drug dealers are just tiny pawns in that game. additionally, many dealers are addicts themselves who got roped into selling to pay for their own use or who got pushed into the margins of society so much that drug trade is the only way to survive they can find

there are like, whole papers and books and thesis done on this so I'm not gonna act like I can analyse it in a tumblr post dhshsjsj but yeah people who think jason is right usually show this weird superiority of 'oh batman doesnt get how to fix gotham like jason does' and like... no, jason gets played like a fiddle by the system the way people he kills do, and whatever he does will always just hit the other pawns and never reach those actually at the top, those who are profitting from finding scapegoats

and like, batman comics don't have to address that bc it's comics, you can write small lmao but don't argue that jason is somehow more enlightened than bruce for killing

b) this brings a question of, if we decide that there has to be punishment for every crime, who gets to decide what punishment is right for what crime? cause there's not a single person who's infallible enough to dictate what the best approach is in every situation

and batman works best as a traumatised man who's loves his city sm he tries to work however he can to protect people from corrupt systems and offer them second chances wherever he can bc that's who batman is at his core - batman is not a punisher he is a protector and he should never be pushed into a role of the punisher bc he's not edgy enough

also bitches are so hard acting like they would kill every villain cause rip to batman but I'm different, y'all are too scared to tell the waitress your order is wrong shut the fuck up lmao the closest any of y'all have been to being batman is getting your ass beat behind the club on a saturday by brenda in her boohoo jumpsuit

[antebunny]

April 25: ribbons

A Swan Maiden Fairy Tale Fusion

Lan Wangji is a huntsman who happens upon a pond in the woods. He sees this epic coat thing made from raven feathers on the banks and goes “wow this is so cool and so pretty i should give it to my brother” and picks it up. Then he sees this guy on the shore and freaks out wondering if he’s dead, but he’s not, he’s just unconscious & naked. So Lan Wangji wraps him up and brings him home, because he’s nice. Then the guy wakes up, introduces himself as “wei ying, courtesy wuxian”, sees the feather cloak and says “nice…cloak you got there”

“it is a gift for my brother”

“ah. Right…when’s ur brother getting here?”

“i will visit him when the snow melts”

“k. Cool. guess im staying here until then”

“can you not go home?”

Wei Wuxian eyes crinkle like he’s sharing a private joke: “Not until the snow melts”

Lan Wangji is a good host and doesn’t know how he feels about this guy just declaring that he’ll live with him for the next several months but…okay.

Lan Wangji finds out very quickly that Wei Wuxian isn’t normal, and it doesn't take him long after that to guess that Wei Wuxian also isn’t entirely human. He’s a very bad houseguest, he just sits, doesn’t know how to cook or anything really, and talks at Lan Wangji while Lan Wangji makes them breakfast. He follows Lan Wangji everywhere he goes with no explanation, just invites himself along. He talks while Lan Wangji is trying to hunt but somehow that doesn’t scare away the game. He flinched the first time Lan Wangji’s arrow found a mark, and insisted on honoring the fallen bird before returning. He passes time whistling and carves himself a flute, they play duets and Lan Wangji finds himself composing something on his guqin in the early morning while Wei Wuxian is still asleep on the floor. Wei Wuxian introduces him to spice, which he hates, but watching Wei Wuxian’s face light up isn’t something he thinks he can ever get tired of.

Wei Wuxian talks a lot about his home and his family, which is apparently a port by a river delta, which is how Lan Wangji learns that Wei Wuxian a very good swimmer, like everyone else there, and that he and his brother are constantly pushing each other in the lake, that he goes out to the pier to drink at night, that he has the best big sister who makes lotus and pork rib soup and stops Wei Wuxian from fighting with his brother, who is an angery smol one but also the best little brother ever (how this is possible, Lan Wangji doesn’t know, it’s clear Wei Wuxian loves his brother even if he spends most of the time making fun of him)

Lan Wangji doesn’t understand why Wei Wuxian can’t return to this home he’s heard so much about, doesn’t know why he found Wei Wuxian abandoned & naked by the side of the pond, but decides that Wei Wuxian is magic and it’s a magic pond, and if his family would leave him in that state, they don’t deserve him. He works up the courage to ask “wei ying. When the snow melts. Stay with me.” and Wei Wuxian is Conflicted bc he likes Lan Wangji and would like to stay but hates that he has to and maybe won’t see his family ever again. In the end all he says is “okay” and Lan Wangji is Very Happy. He also sees Wei Wuxian eyeing the feather cloak often but he already said he’d give it to his brother and doesn’t know how to offer it to Wei Wuxian. But then Wei Wuxian says “guess you’re not giving it to your brother now” which is basically how Lan Wangji thinks Wei Wuxian asks for things so he just nods vaguely.

Wei Wuxian guesses pretty early that Lan Wangji doesn’t know the full extent of what he’s done, and he clearly doesn’t know who Wei Wuxian is, but that’s not surprising. He decides not to tell him, because why would he? On the off-chance that Lan Wangji will just...give it back to him? Wei Wuxian has heard the Swan Maiden tale, he's has seen the worst parts of humanity; he can’t trust that.

It’s been raining a lot recently, which means Lan Wangji has less opportunity to hunt, and it’s harder to hunt after rain. He goes to the nearest town to trade when his supplies get too low (Wei Wuxian comes with obviously) and there the gossip is that some villagers swear up and down that they saw purple lightning (Wei Wuxian isn’t surprised, just sighs and says “of course”) which means that Sandu Shengshou is angry! And that the Lady of Lotus Blossoms, who usually blesses typical goddess things like matchmaking and fertility/childbirth, has 1) stopped and 2) started leaving white lotus blossoms behind, which means that she’s mourning which is sad and terrible! (Wei Wuxian agrees that her being sad is terrible and gets misty-eyed. Lan Wangji wasn’t aware that Wei Wuxian held her in such high regard).

In town, Wei Wuxian gets Lan Wangji better deals, flirts with some girls which makes Lan Wangji sad for unknown reasons, gets harassed by some guys which is how Lan Wangji confirms that Wei Wuxian is not human/magic bc in the dark & rainy night his eyes looked red and his teeth in the moonlight looked too long and too sharp, and no one heard from Wen Chao again. Lan Wangji also buys him clothes

The snow melts. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian set off to visit Lan Xichen. Wei Wuxian isn’t wearing the cloak and Lan Wangji doesn’t understand why? But doesn’t ask because he never does. They get to the lake where Lan Wangji found Wei Wuxian and wait for Lan Xichen to meet them there, meanwhile Wei Wuxian hisses at a peacock and talks to a sparrow (Lan Wangji doesn’t question it. He never does), then Lan Xichen arrives and at the same time purple lightning flashes and a young man descends from the sky dressed in rich purple silks followed by a lady dressed in lavender and rose pink. they’re easily recognizable as Sandu Shengshou, the Lord of the heavenly Lotus Pier, and the Lady of Lotus Blossoms, his sister and the Lady of Lotus Pier. Lan Xichen is like “wangji wtf is going on” meanwhile Jiang Cheng accuses Lan Wangji of kidnapping his brother, and Jiang Yanli is like “we’re willing to bargain for our brother back. what do you want?”

Lan Wangji: "If he’s ur brother why did you abANDON him"

Jiang Cheng: "how DARE we’ve been searching for him for MONTHS ever since you TOOK him"

"i found him abandoned so i took him home to PROTECT him"

"that’s a fancy way of saying you decided to keep him like an exotic pet"

"i did no such thing"

"then why did you keep that!?" Jiang Cheng points at the feather cloak and everyone looks

Lan Xichen: "oh no"

Lan Wangji: "what"

Lan Xichen: "wangji. the swan maiden"

Lan Wangji: *remembers the story about the swan maiden who left her swan feathers by the side of the pond while she bathed and the huntsman who took her feathers and thus took her, forced her to marry him and bear him three children, before she found her feathers, after which she yeeted outta there with her three children and never left the heavens again, leaving huntsman to die of a broken heart.*

Lan Wangji hadn’t even considered it, maybe because Wei Wuxian was sleeping and therefore didn’t beg for the feather cloak back, maybe bc he made a weak joke instead of flat-out asking Lan Wangji what he planned to do, maybe because his wasn’t pure and white but rather made of raven feathers and pitch black

Also Wei Wuxian got roaring drunk that’s how he ended up there. Jiang Cheng is like “just bc my brother is the stupidest dumb person to ever idiot–” “hey!” “does not mean you can just taKE ADVANTAGE of him”

Anyway Lan Wangji freaks tf out and practically throws the feather cloak back at Wei Wuxian, who hasn’t been meeting his eyes and not saying anything this whole time and tries to apologize. Jiang Yanli grabs it and her brother and walks into the lake, pink and cream lotus blossoms blooming under her feet; she doesn’t sink under the surface. She stands in the middle and they both go under. Then Wei Wuxian arises in his full black-and-red glory, Jiang Cheng shoots Lan Wangji one last glare and then the three of them promptly disappear into the heavens

Lan Xichen holds Lan Wangji for the first time in years while he cries. He stutters his way through an explanation of what happened the past three months, saying again and again that he didn’t know, he noticed that Wei Wuxian wasn’t human and a little bit magic but he didn’t expect this and he didn’t realize that he was preventing Wei Wuxian from leaving. Lan Xichen says things like “i believe you” and “you’re not a terrible person, you just made a terrible mistake”

Eventually Lan Wangji stops hyperventilating, and that’s when a flock of crows leaves their roosts, the wind shrieks, and Wei Wuxian descends again. Lan Wangji doesn’t understand how Wei Wuxian could possibly forgive him, or how someone like Wei Wuxian could possibly take interest in a lonely huntsman like Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian holds his hand out and says that he promised to take Lan Wangji on a tour of his home (lotus pier!!), and his eyes do that thing and he says “well? Are you coming?” and how can Lan Wangji say no?

[arhvste]

❝atsumu, kuroo, tsukishima and bokuto playing acnh ❞

miya atsumu

→ first he called the game dumb but he eventually gave in because everyone and their aunts were playing it and he didn’t wanna be left out

→ mf tries so hard for raymond at first

→ he insists it’s just because he can sell him for a lot

→ he really just wants raymond because he lowkey reminds him of osamu

→ anyways this fool doesn’t get raymond but ya know who he does get?

→ pedro

→ atsumu was ✨disgusted✨

→ “a clown?! a fukn clown?! yer jokin me!”

→ “aw don’t cry he fits in so well on your island 😹”

→ “sHUT YER TRAP 😠😠😠”

→ he hated pedro at first and for what?

→ eventually he starts vibing with him though

→ he decides that perhaps... pedro isn’t a bad guy after all

→ so atsumu develops a soft spot for him and begins to favour him over the rest of his mediocre villagers whose names he can’t be bothered to remember

→ ya know whose name he can remeber though?

→ BELLA 😡😠😡😠😡😡😠

→ the name that sparks rage in him

→ atsumu hits his villagers with his net shouting “nice cut g!” as a joke

→ with bella he’s not joking 😐

→ he hits her repeatedly and grins maliciously when she gets angry eventually

→ LOVES shoving her into pitfalls for absolutely no reason

→ cusses her out under his breath

→ writes hate mail to her only to get fustrated when she sends a nice reply about the flowers she saw the other day that reminded her of him

→ honestly bella girl it ain’t worth it, pack your bags and get outta there sis 😔

→ he wants her to get tf off his island because he doesn’t like her but he also kinda wants her to stay because he loves annoying her and making her angry

→ literally goes out of his way to buy the ugliest clothes for her to wear

→ he also has all his villagers address him as “big dick man”

→ pedro is special though 😳

→ pedro is the chosen one who gets to call him “tsumu”

→ JUST PEDRO 😤😾😡

→ literally thinks it’s the funniest thing when his villagers say “hey big dick man! the weather sure is great today isn’t it!”

→ you can hear his cackling from down the hall

→ thinks it’s the peak of comedy

→ oh and you’re not allowed to visit his island on a saturday

→ saturdays are “for the boys”

→ and by that he means he’s just going to buy a ton of matching clothes for him and pedro and talk to him all day until he eventually annoys pedro by accident to which he genuinely gets upset about

→ he doesn’t really bother with the fishing tourneys or bug offs

→ does catch a few though just to make sure he beats bella earns nook miles

→ pretty average island, not too much effort put into it yet

→ atsumu prefers channeling his energy and game time into bullying bella interacting with his villagers

kuroo tetsurō

→ bangs. it. tf. out.

→ literally acts like he doesn’t care about the game but has 395+ hours game time

→ uses the excuse it’s to play with kenma but kuroo actually got into it before kenma had the chance to look at it properly

→ fishing tourney KING

→ has multiple gold trophy’s and built a whole extension just to show them off

→ also treats all his villagers equally

→ he was a bit picky and only wanted cats and dogs on his island though

→ if you’re anything but a cat or a dog, i’m sorry but kuroo will timeskip you tf off of his island

→ has a soft spot for lucky but doesn’t admit it

→ he likes to come across as a “fair dictator of the island”

→ just admit luckys your fav and go oh my god

→ his house is really nice too

→ pretty much paid off all his debt and is financially responsible 😼

→ he will send you money over a few times a week because he claims he’s a good boyfie virtually and realistically

→ LOVES opening the letters from ‘mom’

→ it’s a small detail in the game but it brings kuroo comfort when he opens the letters and sometimes receives gifts from his virtual ‘mom’ 🥺

→ keeps all the letters from her because that’s what he would do if his real mom ever wrote to him

→ he’s a shameless timeskipper

→ “tetsu?? where tf did you get all this the games only been out a week??”

→ “👁👁 idk what you’re talking about baby”

→ the thing that annoys him the most are the fossils

→ HATES the stupid little marks in the ground that appear every day

→ also HATES talking to blathers

→ “spit it out already! i have places to be and villagers to see!”

→ completely ignores blathers’ real name and refers to him as ‘bokuto’

→ because he’s an owl duh

→ and bokuto also talks a lot

→ you thought it was a cute friendship thing at first but took it back when you heard him muttering under his breath

→ “oh my god just analyse the fossils already you himbo bird!”

→ “did you just call blathers a himbo? 😳”

→ “...no? 😳👀”

→ all in all, kuroo’s pretty good at the game

→ you like visiting his island because he has a ton of extra stuff he just gives you

→ “i never want to hear you call me a bad boyfriend again 😐”

→ “okay fine...but oNLY if you give me an ironwood dresser 😏”

tsukishima kei

→ another one who bangs it out

→ doesn’t really care when you point it out though

→ “you’re just jealous your islands a dumping ground compared to mine 🥱”

→ “k-kei 😔”

→ also sprints near where you’re fishing to scare the fish off and be spiteful 💀

→ little shit KNOWS you only need oranges to complete all the fruits on your island

→ he also knows you’re out of nook miles tickets

→ “aw that’s a shame, maybe if you were a bit better at the game you’d find them quicker but good luck! 😀”

→ oranges are his native fruit 😐😑😐

→ eventually he gives you them because you’re relentless and his patience runs thin after a while

→ good at the bug offs

→ pretty good at scorpion/tarantula hunting too

→ convinced spike is in love with him after the amount of scorpions and tarantulas he’s donated to him

→ his fossil exhibition in the museum is completed already

→ when blathers tells him the facts about the dinosaurs he just rolls his eyes

→ “i knew that already you stupid bird 🙄”

→ why’s everyone bullying blathers damn 😿

→ now, he likes henry

→ one of the few villagers he doesn’t bully

→ tsukki doesnt particularly care for majority of his villagers

→ henry has a special place in his heart though

→ maybe it’s because henry isn’t overly perky or he isn’t rude like the cranky villagers which tsukishima doesn’t like

→ henry is just??? so??? nice????

→ he can’t hate him

→ all his villagers have catchphrases that are dumb af

→ tsukki thought he was being clever when he made them but he just looks mean when other people talk to his villagers

→ “good morning i am useless! i love your outfit!”

→ henry gets to call him tsukki though

→ only because he figured out that henry reminds him of yamaguchi

→ that’s the only reason henry’s the exception to his bullying

→ i feel like tsukki has a pretty nice house too

→ he makes a lot of bells from selling scorpions and tarantulas and spare fossils he’s dug up

→ doesn’t really care about the size but has very detailed rooms

→ like all the furniture in his rooms follow a scheme

→ mf never opens his mailbox

→ doesn’t care for what the other “peasants have to say for themselves”

→ terraforming isn’t really his thing tbh

→ doesn’t like how slow the process and be and kinda likes the natural flat land

→ he likes laying down paths though

→ cusses villagers out when they get in the way though

→ full on shoves them and will keep shoving them until they get annoyed just because they’ve annoyed him

→ tsukki doesnt put as much time into the game as kuroo but his island is still pretty good and aesthetically pleasing

→ he just won’t help you make yours look like that 💀

bokuto koutarō

→ weeds. everywhere.

→ get so confused when he’s told he has to pick them all

→ “really? why can’t i just let them grow though i kinda like them 🤩”

→ mf ✨struggles✨ at the first stages

→ “y/n, you know i love you, please give me 30 iron nuggets 🥺💖💞💗”

→ ofc you give them to him because you’re well ahead in the game and don’t need them as much as he does

→ praises you like royalty but then he’s back to begging for materials from you 💀

→ doesn’t pay his debts

→ you’re gonna have to help him out here

→ doesn’t like the idea of having to constantly pay them off

→ like?? he doesn’t want a bigger house so why is this damn raccoon always bothering him to upgrade like leave him and his 2 room house alone 😠

→ has a the same camp bed and lamp from when he first moved out the tent 💀

→ insists he doesn’t need another one because the furniture all functions the same

→ he has a point tbf but his house just isn’t aesthetically pleasing

→ he also hoards stuff

→ common butterfly? yeah bokuto has 37 sitting in his storage

→ doesn’t like letting the bugs go because he “caught them fair and square”

→ you show him how to pay his debts back and then he dedicates a whole room to his stupid bugs 💀

→ loves blathers and celeste just because they’re owls

→ doesn’t care about what they’re wittering on about he loves interacting with them just because they’re the only owls in the game 😐

→ his favourite villager is kid cat

→ literally follows him around and sprints circles around him

→ l o v e s the chaos outside the town hall

→ 2 of his villagers are singing, 3 are running around and 1 is just watching like 🧍🏻‍♀️

→ HYPES his singing villagers tf up

→ “yeah get it bianca! turn it up!!! 🥳🥳”

→ has to match his villagers clothes at least once a week

→ also makes them all refer to him as “the best ace”

→ it boosts his ego a little more each time they say it

→ bokuto actually got raymond out of luck but had no idea who tf he was and just how popular he was

→ lets that mf go without advertising that raymond’s in boxes

→ atsumu screeches when he finds this out eventually

→ bokuto doesn’t care what his villagers look like everyone’s welcome

→ bella should move to bokuto’s island and move from atsumu’s because bokuto will accept her with open arms rather than a net to the head everytime he sees her 😿

→ ALWAYS remembers birthdays for his villagers

→ and always shows up to their birthday parties insisting he’s the life of the party and they’d be bored without him 😹

→ which is true to a certain degree cause the party only really starts when the player arrives

→ bokuto is actually okay at terraforming

→ quickly changes his mind after an hour of building and digging and restarts it all over again

→ he can make his island look pretty good

→ theres just weeds and buried fossils everywhere though 👁👁

→ also forgets his turnips go bad

→ literally the least financially responsible out of them all

→ it’s okay though because you help him and he eventually gets the hang of it

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei

please send an ask to be added / removed from my taglist

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

[lxstfulbeans]

May I request Dio, joseph, and mama bruno headcanons of them having a crush on black reader but they don’t know how to approach them? Thank uuu!🥺👉🏾👈🏾

I’ll be doing part 2 Jospeh! But, I know I looooove some Brunoooo!

HEADCANON: having a crush on black reader, can’t figure out the right approach.

---3. 2. 1. ACTION!---

DIO [Modern Era]:

Him? Dio? Having a cRuSh?

AND not knowing how to fuckin’ talk to you?

Oh hell no.

Surely, he had done something UTTERLY evil. like the mf-ing bully he is.

Like being fake as shit towards some people which you could obviously smell the bullshit from a mile away, thinking he was doin sum.

When he saw that concerned, almost bothered look on your face, he knew he was fucking up.

You were too beautiful, too PERFECT. He had to have you to himself.

He started to send gifts to your house, sometimes to your workplace. Hoping that would rIgHtfUlLy earn your affections.

They were flattering but, you almost saw it as cowardly that he didn’t just— approach you on his own??

Like bitch tf is you scared for- 💀

The time finally came for him to ask you out, about fuckin’ time though-

Dio stopped by your house, definitely at the worst time though.

It was the early morning, your day off especially. You were so irritated when you heard a loud ass POUNDING at yo door.

In your bonnet, tank top, and pink pajama bottoms, you stomped to the door to see who it was.

“It is I, Dio!”

You wanted to punch him, if he wasn’t so damn cute with his little bouquet of roses and a basket of your favorite snacks.

“Lately, I’ve been told that sending those precious gifts.. isn’t quite the way to earn your love. Now I, Dio, wish to take you out for dinner tonight!”

You couldn’t help but snicker. This was oddly cute yet so damn dumb for someone so cunning.

Without another word, you jump to press a kiss to his cheek before taking the new gifts.

“Aight then. Pick me up tonight. But, don’t just pull up without tellin’ a bitch. Got me out here lookin’ crazy!”

After that, y’all have been a power couple ever since. He definitely likes to show you off.

Joseph Joestar [1939]:

This goofy ass- 💀

He’s a well-known flirt, but he definitely had his sights set on you!

Trust me, he’s seen plenty of beautiful women but BABY-

He was definitely feeling that Cupid’s arrow piercing his heart when he first saw you.

The two of you were introduced through Smokey, who was your childhood friend at the time.

You couldn’t thank Joseph enough for helping him out with those bogus cops.

You two became friends very quickly.

Although the two of you would hang out 95% of the time, it didn’t stop the trouble that often came by.

He was always down to fight for you or do some goofy shit to make you smile.

But, he was so scared of asking you out.

It wasn’t because of the people, fuck them.

But, it was because he thought he wouldn’t be good enough for you. That he’d crash before the journey even started.

He often flexed when you were around, was more flirty with you more than others, and even lent his big ass jacket when you were chilly.

You’d often pick up on his advances, his hard crush on you not so much of a secret anymore.

When the time came that he actually decided to ask you out, best believe that he went all out for you when he came to your house one night.

I’m talking suit and tie, limo ride, buying you hella gifts.

“[Y/N]!! Ever since I’ve laid eyes on you, I knew you had to be mine! Come on a date with me!”

This had to be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen this boy do. How could you say no? Especially after he delivered the full package!

You chuckled as you thought about your answer, your cheeks hot.

“Okay boy. Lemme get ready!”

You’ve never seen a more wide smile as he jumped for joy, almost messing up his suit.

When y’all started dating, he never failed to make you smile. Even when he’d annoy the shit outta you, you couldn’t stay mad at the fool.

Bruno Bucciarati:

This has got to be my FAVORITE character of part 5 kakldlfmfnwjwkf— DAFUQ IS HE SO FOINE FORRR 💀 😭

Okay, okay. Let’s say that you joined Passione for XYZ reason and you were assigned to Bruno’s team.

You meet everybody at the restaurant and best believe that my boy is in complete AWE.

Sure, he was aware of another stand user who passed that DUMBASS lighter test- But, he ain’t expect a fine queen to be stuck with his rowdy ass team.

He couldn’t even count the millions of times where he bonked Mista in the head for flirting with you nonstop when he was questioning you, even going to the point where he zipped that mofo mouth shut.

Like on god, let him SPEAK- 🗣

Everyone, except you, had the idea that he had a little crushy crush on you because of how gentle and guiding he was towards you.

He was a true gentleman, praising you for hard work, even stared at and admired your beauty for a long period of time without realizing nor with you looking.

He was definitely attracted to how determined, headstrong, and smart you were. Whenever the team got into a pickle, you knew just how to get ‘em out.

Whenever you two hung out, he’d take you on tours, go on walks with you, maybe even go to dinner every now and then. Everytime you stared at an item you really wanted but couldn’t get because of expenses, he’d secretly buy it and drop it off at your doorstep for you to find. But, he loved golden hour.

When the sun was setting and it hit your skin just right, glowing from that precious light. He could feel his heart pound, coming to terms with his feelings for you.

There weren’t any missions or anything like that, so he took this opportunity to take you on a boat ride. He wanted this confession to be perfect, no distractions.

As the sun was setting, he basically got a promise ring. His heart racing as anxiety set in, what if you rejected him? He wouldn’t know unless he shot that shot.

“[Y/N], not only have you been pleasant to work and fight alongside with, you’ve been such a darling friend. Your smile shines brighter than stars, your skin glows so beautifully in the setting sun. You make me feel so alive, bella. Please, be mine.. your heart will be treasure in my hands.”

Okay, you had to admit. That was so poetic ass shit right there, you couldn’t help but feel sudden warmth in your cheeks as you stared at him.

He was fine ass hell, a goddamn gentleman, the nicest man in Italy, AND had some power?

Yep, he had you.

With a giggling nod, a smile of relief comes to his face as he slides the promise ring on. Shit, y’all were already official but he might as well put an ACTUAL ring on it.

“Damn! This must’ve cost some real cash money... I don’t think I can ever get used to you spoiling me, Bruno.”

Before the ride was over, best believe that he took tons of pictures of you while the sun was still making you glow.