#this entire scene is a gut punch and a half

[felicitykings]

Why? Give me one good bloody reason why I should! One good reason why I shouldn't keep screaming!

TORCHWOOD (2006-2011) ↳ 2.13 Exit Wounds

[xshimaeraxx]

okay ik that the fandom LOVES making logan the one who’s the cat-like mutant in the relationship and i LOVE that and it is so canon but like

hear me out here! catboy!! wade!!

a wade who was a mutant long before francis got his grubby little hands in him, wade who was a mutant but it wasnt crazy regenerative abilities or an inability to stay dead/immortality or super-human strength, but a wade who was (still is) a mutant who had the abilities of a fuckin’ cat

a wade who has semi-night vision, not entirely but good enough to help out on jobs; a wade who has lil pinprick pupils like a cat’s and who hisses damn near 24/7 on bad pain days (bc chronic pain-having wade has my entire heart and i will go to the grave w this hc alr); a wade who purrs when happy or in the middle of slicing someone’s head off during a job; a wade who has a cat’s heightened senses- hearing, sight, taste, smell, all of that; a wade who has a cat’s un-fuckin’-canny ability to jump from heights that would’ve killed a human and have at most a small, gone-in-a-day bruise; a wade who has tufts of kitty-cat fur on his elbows and on + behind his knees

and then francis comes along, and the torture happens, and he loses his looks, and then the fur grows back bc fuck but he’d thought he’d lost his og mutation when francis torture mcgee had triggered this new one, had lost the one thing that ness might still recognise him for,,,

and then the start of d&w happens, and during the birthday scene wade’s purring, happy, quietly (so quietly no one hears it half the time, and when they do they assume it’s the faulty heating of wade & al’s shitass apartment, but ness looks at him with a pleased, proud little smile when the sound starts back up after the others’ initial investigation for the source of the sound proves fruitless and it, he gets louder, purely for the way ness’s smile gets wider, prouder in a way that is purely, unabashedly so ness wade wants to go other and kiss her, right then n there) yes but he’s still purring like he hasn’t since pre-cancer-diagnosis him & ness (and also bc francis’s little angel-killer had found the sound annoying as all hell [bc wade also purrs to self-soothe bc I Say So)and so he’d rarely done so since, half out of new-born habit, half out of some primal, hard-learned fear he still hasn’t managed to completely shake, even years later)

and then the honda odyssey scene happens, and wade’s purring, purring, purring, loud and proud and rumbling and happy and he’s also hissing playfully at logan- a motion logan doesn’t notice due to how distracted he is putting his claws thru wade’s left thigh and christ, kittycat, how long’s it been since you had a good hookup for you to be THIS tense?- and logan only notices after wade’s pinned him and his minorly blood-soaked grin freezes; doesn’t drop, but freezes.

wade’s purr stutters a tad, doesn’t stop. he asks, licking the blood off of his cheek underneath his mask and for some reason logan’s sharp eyes follow what he can see of the movement underneath wade’s mask: what’s wrong, peanut, cat got your tongue?

are you- are you fuckin’ purring? asks logan, and the sound abruptly stops, and then deadpool’s stabbing him through the gut with not one word and then they’re fighting again, and while logan notes the moment to think about later, wade also doesn’t say another word other then excited/frustrated grunts and little “haha!”s for the next half hour, and for some reason that about takes up the majority of logan’s attention until he finally, finally, punches wade’s already-broken nose literally not even a millisecond after he’s broken it hard enough that it actually takes a few seconds for wade’s healing to kick in, and for some reason he feels strangely relived when wade lets out a muffled-by-blood ugh! foulplay, wolvie, foulpla-

logan interrupts him via stabbing wade and a like you don’t play just as foul as i do, bub, and wade stabs back in response with some quippy comment or another, and by then the fight’s back on, deadpool-typical quips and all.

like. when i say catboy wade, here, do you see my vision. do you see what i’m imagining. dO YOU SEE IT I SAY

[tottentz]

HE'S COMPLICATED, HE'S IRRATIONAL ── alhaitam ◟1.2k w.c ◟sfw, hurt + comfort.

"so, tell us the secret, why him?" 

alhaitam freezes, hand on the handle halfway to open the door. they're talking about him again.

he doesn't understand many of the words, but he knows the tone. talking more in breath than sound, trying to sound quieter than they really are. the same fake concern they take on the moment they turn away from your table, like you aren't still in the room.

but he doesn't care, except maybe, for you. 

you smile, a little too wide, and tilt your head. uselessly. doesn't matter either way. "him who?," you repeat in a high pitch.

"alhaitam, duh." your coworker has a tendency to talk a little too much when she's lonely and just a little bit tipsy. and given the way that things seem to be going, she's very lonely and probably drinking a little more than she should. and it's your job to be likeable and trustworthy.

"because i love him." you bit out, and you weren't sure whether a smile or a wince tugged at the corner of your mouth, wondering why you were having some sort of revelation.

"but, i mean, why?" she also calmly contradicted, though discussing an entirely different topic than the one you were stuck on, without a tremor in her voice. "'isn't he a little, uh..."

"complicated?" another of your friends ( friends? ) say.

the words are mostly unfamiliar, but alhaitam thinks you know the meaning by the way you grudgingly kick at the tiles under your feet, chewing the inside of your mouth as if musing her previous claim.

"oh" it is all you say, and alhaitam feels the acid crawl up his throat and die in his mouth. then there was anger, mostly directed at himself, hatred so obsessive it seeped into his skin, a punch to his gut of desperation, and last but not least honest, helpless. "is that so?"

alhaitam knows he is not good at expressing his affection.

and then you think of alhaitam draped over the edge of the couch when you walk in, his nose smothered deep in a book. he only notices you when you plop before him and don't say anything; he doesn't have to. he already knows you had a long day when you crawl between his legs and wraps around his waist, clinging, waiting.

 you think of alhaitam reading aloud then. even if he doesn't know what's going on half the time, he lets you hear his voice. his free fingers finding your nape, your skin dance; tingles in the wake of goosebumps, you feel his abdomen houses clutters of butterflies who fly to the tempo of his palpitating heart, and his cranium is a ground of play for rampant imagery

and things stay like this. he reads. you listen for each syllable as they glide off his tongue, lulling your muscles to unravel, your lashes to flutter shut.

"yeah, i have never seen him either, does he at least have time for you?"

alhaitam always wakes much too early for your liking, but he always humours you when you pull him back into an even warmer chest each time he scoots away. your voice mumbling just five more minutes. and he stays.

even when the day is long and you can only see him before going to sleep, you rambled. spilling whatever random scene were to display beneath your eyelids, conveying a multitude of senseless thoughts with a voice low of pitch and groggily muddled with a recognizable desire to fall into the hands of sleep, and he always listens.

doesn't matter if the curls of his dark lashes fluttered to a close, daring him to befall subject to the will of his physical need, but whenever you would stir within his arms, trembling and cutely shrinking in response, he would promptly press you flush to his nude chest and allow the slow thump of his heart to alleviate any previous distress that had startled you from your state of dozing, ceasing your teeter towards unconsciousness.

and when you fall asleep on the couch, he bundles you up in his arms, carries you to bed. you can't see it, but he’s smiling, feeling proud, feeling warm. it nearly bursts when he sets you down, folds you beneath the covers, tucks you in like always. then he crouches down to your level, and he kisses the shallow dip your temple gives. and he can't he it, but you smile too.

"sure you are okay? he just doesn't seem like the kind of, you know, to be able to love somebody."

you freeze, and alhaitam feels like everything suddenly stops.

alhatiman? the same alhaitam who cannot help himself when it comes to you? the man whose stare descends with a determined will, falling over every rounding and arched feature your facial adorns; he has to etch any blemishes and discoloration into memory. every asset is an additional detail solely unique to your character. alhaitam, who is compelled, driven, to stall for a moment more and appreciate the mere sight of you.

whose kisses are commonly renown as esteemed rarities and seldom acquaint with your supple skin. alhaitam, whose faint brushing of his lips remains long after he has finished as a bitter tinge of coffee sour on his tongue. the weight of his doughy lips coat yours in a sugarless tart.

alhaitmamwho struggles when conveying his harbored ardor, submitting to the intensity of heat that blossomed from the kindled fire of his heart; who yearns for an affinity but is terrified of the eternal menaces that endanger you and himself alike, scared to lose the last entity with possession of his fancy.

you know the way alhaitam paints his uneasy expression over with feigned confidence. his shoulders are square, but his stomach is a festering tsunami, rough waves lapping at his insides and battering his abdomen until nausea settled somewhere deep; who is ceaselessly tranced and subject to enchantment is perpetually perceived as infatuated; bewitched. unwavering gape fixated and motionless, his adherence is akin to devout. subject to time, he is spellbound; consumed with imagery that fuels his crave for a singular desire: you.

"oh, and when he—"

"because that's my choice" you interrupt her, your mind is running a mile a minute, but the smile hung from your lips doesn't falter. you stride as if already victorious, poised; daunt. "i love him with all that, because of all that."

you twist instinctively to look at him at the door. and your face – archons, the sight of you– it's like unfettered sunlight, like the first sip of coffee in the morning, like a hot shower after a long, long day.

"anyways, i have to go now," you head for the door, and you can hear a startled squeal in the distance. "nice meeting, thank you for inviting me." and you can see the pale faces of your coworkers when they notice alhaitam waiting for you.

he just nods his head in greeting, before following you.

"you are quiet, penny for your thoughts?." you ask.

he opens his mouth, floundering for words, any words, to fill the blooming silence between you. instead he just stands there, hand around your hand. just stands there. holding onto you.

"it's nothing. let's go home" he reiterates his abiding purpose with a heavy hand cupping your cheek. he has you, he affirms, right here. alhaitam has no desire to abandon his home in your arms. he faithfully persists as a knight at your side.

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪

[mcrizzystardust]

scenes that would make me physically die and ascend to nirvana if fantasy high got an animated series the way tlovm did:

the whole scene of riz blowing off biz glitterdews fingers and fig burning his crotch

fabian eating glass

ENDING OF FRESHMAN YEAR EPISODE TWO

adding onto the last one, the whole scenes of arthur getting kristen to sneak him into heaven, and gorgug seeing mr gibbons in orc heaven

adding onto the last one!! kristen thinking shes going to go talk to sol the next time shes in heaven, and ends up finding arthur aguefort and that whole shitshow

gorgug and zelda getting ice cream (with all the bad kids tagging along LMFAO)

fig stealing + driving johnny spells' car, along with that whole fight

BOGGY THE FROGGY

fabian gut punching gorgug on the first day of school

adding onto the last one: "DETENTION! DETENTION! ALL OF YOU, DETENTION"

riz throwing up in fabians backback, gorgug then 'stealing' said backpack

tracker flirting with a completely oblivious kristen when they first meet

the hang van!!

gorgug trying to sing his parents song to porter

jawbone in kalvaxus' mouth, im sobbing jdhdjsbs

"yes, yes, bike, now, lets go get some ice cream!"

THE THISTLESPRINGS DEFENDING THEIR TREE AFTER BANDITS TRIED TO BURN IT DOWN, MFING LAWNMOWER TANK

fig, on fire, climbing thru the window

buddy cubby busting the bad kids out of jail!!!!

gorgug kissing ragh

"goldenrod!! goldenrod!! goldenrod!!"

figs sexy rat, need i say more.

riz, high out of his goddamned mind on snuff, getting his tattoos

gilear being hired as lunch lad, after jawbone takes the position of guidance counsellor!!!

fig playing guitar for bill seacaster ALL NIGHT (think of those like, "8 hours later" spongebob slides)

sandra lynn seducing garthy o'brien???? not that i particularily like this scene, but for the pure storytelling purposes

that entire fucking fight scene with the dwarves, from 'havoc on the half-pipe'

"am i my own dad???"

[littlexdeaths]

bye bye bye - e.m.

y2k eddie munson x girly reader

opposites attract masterlist

warnings: gareth is a dickhead, hope y’all like some cheesy fluff, eddie is a complete dork but we love him for it.

a/n: this is a repost of my first y2k eddie fic, with some much needed edits and additions. i will be working on editing and posting the rest of this series soon. i hope you enjoy 💕

word count: 1.5k

Today really hadn’t gone how you’d planned.

You had been hanging out with Eddie and his band mates, something you’d done quite often. Only this time you made the mistake of wearing your *NSYNC tour shirt.

It wasn’t a secret that you and Eddie had polar opposite tastes, it was apparent by just looking at you. You were all pink, bubblegum and boy bands. And your boyfriend was a leather clad, heavy metal enthusiast.

Despite these differences, you fit so well together.

And as they say— opposites attract.

But one of his friends was always more standoffish towards you because of it. While you were always nice to Gareth, he seemed annoyed anytime Eddie brought you around. But today that annoyance had seemingly reached its peak.

And all over a stupid t-shirt.

Eddie had gone to get you both a drink, leaving you in the living room with the three other males. They were discussing the newest Linkin Park album. Which oddly enough, was a band you actually enjoyed outside your normal realm of music.

You perked up at the mention of the album, as it had been the only thing Eddie had been playing since it was released. Feeling eager to see what they also thought of it.

“Oh come on man, you can't say Meteora is better than Hybrid Theory,” Jeff scoffs, shaking his head in response to Gareth’s admission as Eddie leaves the room.

The male rolls his eyes before tossing a piece of popcorn at Jeff’s head, “See that’s where you’re wrong dude, have you tried listening to the albums back to back?”

You take this as an opportunity to add in your two cents, trying to include yourself in the conversation despite your nerves.

“Well, personally I think both albums are great in their own—”

You are interrupted with a loud snort as Gareth rudely cuts you off, glancing down at your shirt before meeting your eyes.

“Why would we care about your opinion of it? All you listen to is boy band trash pop,” he sneers, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his friends.

It felt like someone had punched you in the gut, any other words became lodged in your throat. Jeff and Grant throw apologetic glances your way, but continue on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Eddie returns shortly after, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. He plops down next to you on the sofa and passes you a can of coke. Due to your solemn appearance, he knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.

A frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly, replying with a shrug of your shoulders.

You let your eyes fall to the open can of soda clutched in your fist. You didn’t want to talk about it, especially not in front of them. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, or to give Gareth the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

So you sat quietly through the next half hour, letting Eddie enjoy the time with his friends.

But he couldn’t seem to let it go, far too focused on what had caused this sudden shift in your mood. So he ended the hangout early, claiming to be too tired from work. But all of you knew the real reason, guilt filled your chest as he walked you out to his van.

They must think you’re a buzzkill too.

The questions started the moment the door shut behind him, badgering you the entire way back to your house. You easily dodged his line of questioning, claiming to be tired. But Eddie wasn’t having any of that, he could see right through you. He always could.

“Baby, come on. Talk to me please,” he pleaded as he followed you up the stairs to your bedroom.

You continued to ignore him as you sat on the bed with a sigh. You felt embarrassed, knowing such a silly comment shouldn’t bother you as much as it did. All you wanted was for his friends to like you, but it was made abundantly clear that they didn’t.

All because you favored pop music? It all felt so trivial, like they weren’t even willing to give you a real chance. It hurt your feelings more than you cared to admit.

But Eddie being the sweet, doting boyfriend that he was— wasn’t giving up that easily.

“Just tell me what happened, sweetheart.” He says, kneeling in front of you, palms resting on either side of your thighs.

“It’s stupid,” you mutter, avoiding his curious gaze.

“Nothing that upset you this much is stupid,” he counters as you let out a groan, dramatically falling back onto the mattress and covering your face.

You hear his exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of his chest against yours as he leans over you. Eddie carefully removes your hands from your face, looking down at you expectantly.

“Your friends don’t like me,” you utter softly.

He frowns, confusion settling on his features.

“Why do you say that?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes which causes his frown to deepen.

“Well, just look at me…” you trail off, gesturing to yourself. “And look at you.”

It’s his turn to sigh now, taking your hands as he guides you back into a sitting position. Eddie cups your cheeks in between his palms, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I know what you’re insinuating, but I promise that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” He reassures you, his dark eyes utterly sincere.

And as much as you want to believe him, there’s still a small part of you that wonders if maybe they are right. Maybe you’re too different. He must be able to read the apprehension lingering on your features, as one of determination crosses over his.

“I don’t know what they said to make you think that,” he pauses to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “But I won’t hesitate to kick some ass, sweetheart.”

Despite the teasing lithe in his voice you know he’s serious, quickly shaking your head. The last thing you’d want is to cause more beef with his friends.

“It’s fine, Eds, I’m just too sensitive.” You give him a quick peck on the lips, “Let’s just drop it, yeah?”

You pull away to scoot further up the mattress, patting the spot beside you. But he shakes his head, remaining on the floor for a moment. His eyes dart contemplatively around the room, stopping on the shelf that held your extension CD collection.

A Cheshire-like grin tugs at his lips as he moves towards it, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your brows knit together in confusion as his ringed fingers graze over the plastic spines, stopping once he finds what he was looking for. Eddie pops the disc out of its case and into the clunky boombox before pressing play.

The beginning chords of Bye Bye Bye fill the once quiet space of your bedroom. Your boyfriend quickly jumps to his feet, spinning around to face you. He plants his feet on the carpet, head falling forward as his hands raise up in a marionette style.

Your eyes widen in realization as you crawl back towards the edge of your bed, suddenly intrigued. Eddie shoots a wink your way once he meets your gaze, beginning to sing along. His voice stood out amongst the others, the raspy quality brought a new edge to the track.

But he didn’t stop there.

You watched in amazement as he nailed all the choreography from the music video. You had no idea when he found the time to study all the moves. Between classes, work, hellfire and band practice he barely had time to think.

But knowing he took the time to do this, specifically for you— made your stomach flutter.

You can’t stop the smile from lighting up your features, giggling as your boyfriend continues to serenade you.

“I don’t want to be your fool, in this game for two…”

Eddie drops to his knees at your feet again, coaxing you onto the floor with him. He presses feather light kisses all over your face, the sensation causes you to giggle more. As hurt as you had been, the male always knew how to make you forget your problems.

At least for a little while.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbled, grinning down at you.

He’s a little out of breath from his impromptu dance routine, bangs lightly sticking to his forehead.

“You’re an absolute dork, Ed,” you giggle, ruffling his curls in a playful manner.

But the way he’s looking at you has your heart racing. His head dips, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss as the song comes to an end.

“Now, admit it,” he chuckles against your mouth, nudging his nose with yours. “I’m a much better dancer than that Dustin Timberlake.”

You laugh loudly, fondly shaking your head at him.

“It’s Justin, baby…”

[soulcandi]

𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑶𝑴 | 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲

synopsis: sorority!reader stumbles upon ghostface behind a closed door at a halloween party and decides to play along with what she assumes is a cruel prank.

warnings: blood/gore, murder, implied alcohol and drug use, bimbo!reader, finger-sucking (lmao), written with afab!reader in mind.

a/n: first tumblr post! this is cross-posted on wattpad and ao3 too! lowercase intended.

word count: 3,841

it wasn’t the muffled screaming that drew you toward the room at the end of the upstairs hallway, but it was certainly what inspired you to press your ear against the door.

at first, you weren’t sure what you were hearing—the music from the party downstairs was making the floor thrum beneath your feet and it was impossible to try and hear anything over the deafening, base-heavy music blaring in the downstairs hallway. especially in your state. but then through the thin wooden frame, there it was again—the screaming, the pleas of terror reduced to stifled, high-pitched whines. 

you held your breath, reaching down to set your big gulp full of jungle juice on the floor of the hallway. the entire first week of zeta orientation was focused solely on helping sisters in trouble and recognizing unsafe situations at parties like this one. and with your ear plastered to the door, you could tell that there was nothing safe or orderly going on in the room behind it, and not even the joint you stole from the guy dressed as danny zuko downstairs was going to change that. 

you had seen date-rape frankie hanging around downstairs, slinking around the kitchen on the prowl for incoming zetas to prey on, but you hadn’t seen him in a few minutes. in fact, you hadn’t seen him much at all since you lost track of your new freshman friend, tara.

biting down hard on your bottom lip, you rapped your knuckles against the wood. there was a slight pause before the sounds of struggle grew louder. 

oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.  

“tara?” you called, it felt like your mouth had been stuffed with cotton and you could still taste the sour hawaiian punch mixer on your tongue. The last thing you wanted to do was interrupt someone’s fantasy of hooking up in pike house on the thirsty thursday before halloween, but you would rather not just walk away when it sounded like someone was being gutted—or worse.

the knob turned with ease and you found yourself stumbling into the room before you could reconsider turning right back around and locating one of your sober sisters to investigate on your behalf. you had half a mind to slap a hand over your eyes to avoid seeing anything you rather live your life without ever seeing.

“tara, is that you? it’s—” you peaked between your fingers for a fleeting second but all you saw was red. 

desperate, angry red claw marks marred the white carpet in a breadcrumb trail leading all the way from the door to the back wall just underneath the window. you stumbled, ankles wobbling in your strappy pink heels as you reached for the doorknob to catch your balance.

there was a figure cloaked in familiar black robes wearing a gaunt white mask that you knew all too well. his hand was raised with a knife poised to stab the girl currently wriggling in his arms. they both watched with bated breath as you gaped at the scene before you. 

“uhm…?” you mumbled, not entirely sure you were seeing this right. you glanced over your shoulder to find that you were completely alone in the upstairs corridor. you coughed and shook your head disbelievingly. you really needed to thank danny zuko for his potent product.

or maybe you needed to stop stealing people’s weed when they were too busy making out with girls dressed as marie antoinette to notice. 

the girl’s head lolled to the side, blood running like rivers through the crevices of her face. her eyes were half-lidded, the entire front of her slutty cowboy costume drenched in blood. you squinted down at her, unable to place her at first. but then it hit you like a slap to the face. 

“courtney fucking carter.” you pointed almost accusingly down at her limp body. it was courtney. she posted a mirror selfie in that exact same outfit just a few hours ago, minus all the gore. ew, you really needed to take her off of your snapchat. 

you felt like an idiot for believing all those heartfelt ‘your first college roommate will become your lifelong friend!’ facebook posts that your mom sent you the entire summer before your freshman year because courtney fucking carter was the furthest thing from a friend that you had at the moment. 

from the split second she’d gotten wind of what you went through a few years back—of what you had seen and survived, it was all downhill from there. fake blood in your body wash, ghostface masks in your closet, daily prank calls, and anonymous threatening texts every morning, noon, and night.

her little display tonight was no different from last halloween when she paid the entire lacrosse team fifty bucks each to wear those stupid costumes and stalk the zeta house while you were sober sister. 

she coughed and even more blood started bubbling in the corners of her mouth. her perfectly winged eyeliner was smudged at the tips and her face was blotchy and red from crying. you were honestly a little impressed that she would make herself look so disgusting for a silly prank that didn’t even scare you. 

“(y/n)...” she blubbered, gasping as she reached out with a limp hand in your direction. “please…”

the killer hadn’t moved since you tripped into the room and if it weren’t for the labored breaths making his chest rise and fall every few seconds, you would have thought he was a statue. you wouldn’t have been surprised if she hired an actual actor to help her with this one.

“oh, this is too good,” you sighed, twirling around and grabbing your drink off of the floor before walking into the room and letting the door ease shut in your wake. as soon as it did, it was like you had hit mute on the entire rest of the party. sinking to your knees on a wet, bloody patch of carpet, you took a long sip from your straw, ignoring the delicious sting it delivered to the back of your throat.

you were just nearing the point of the night where a rum and coke only tasted like coke and you started forgetting that there was liquor in your cup at all. 

courtney’s eyebrows tethered in confusion, but you weren’t even looking at her anymore. the masked figure cocked his head to the side, gloved fingers clenching around the steely hunting knife hovering a foot or so over your ex-roommate's chest.

trauma sure had a funny way of presenting itself because there was absolutely no reason that you should be so spurred on by that sight. biting your lip, you mirrored his empty expression, tilting your head parallel to his. “well? go ahead. finish her off.”

“please, no! oh my god, no!”

“shut the fuck up, my god. you act like I wouldn’t have paid like a million dollars to see this happen to you for real. grow up and let me enjoy this.”

leaning your back against the door, you pulled your barely-parted knees halfway up to your chest, not caring in the slightest that your satin slip was leaving very little to the imagination. chewing lazily— drunkenly—on your cherry-red straw, you gestured vaguely for her accomplice to proceed.

he bristled at your attention, testingly bringing the knife down a few inches to gauge your reaction. the movement elicited a weak cry from the girl lying victim in his lap and you smiled with the nibbled tip of your straw pinned between your glittery-painted lips. “do it.”

through the floorboards, you could hear the opening chords of SLUT ME OUT, followed by the excited screams of your sorority sisters. the stars were aligning in the most perfect way. if this ended quickly enough, you could link up with tara and ethan and make your way to the dance floor with time to spare before the song was over. 

a long, labored breath was smothered by the smooth plastic of the mask but you heard it anyway in all of its gruff, ravenous glory. not even a full second passed before the stainless (probably retractable) blade disappeared and plunged straight between courtney’s ribs. she arched her back as her body mimed a reaction to the pain and you watched from afar with hazy curiosity. 

“yes!” you clapped, throwing a weak fist in the air. “get her ass!”

“fu-fuck you, (y/n),” she spat.

“ditto. no, actually you can eat shit and choke. you’re honestly such a good actress that this is kinda sad.”

every insult, every bitter comment that you’ve been holding in since last september came threatening to spill out of you. courtney’s body lurched as the knife was yanked out of her torso, but when it re-entered, there was no reaction. no more pleas for her life, no melodramatic dying remarks. in fact, she went deathly still—her body slumping over in an awkward heap on the carpet as ghostface rose, shoving her aside in order to stalk his way over to you. 

his heavy black combat boots made deep imprints on the stained carpet, now half-dried and tacky to the touch. with one more sip for good luck, you abandoned your cup beside the door and crawled on your hands and knees to meet him halfway at a tantalizing pace.

pointing your half-lidded eyes through the black eye holes of the mask, you wondered which of her sick and twisted friends was watching you back right behind them. but honestly, who were you kidding? the not-knowing was what made it just a teensy bit sexy. 

“you gonna kill me next?” you pouted, sitting up on your knees less than a foot away from where he stood, shooting him the biggest, roundest doe eyes that you could manage. your pitiful frown only deepened as he shook his head, dragging a leather-gloved hand through your hair and knocking your little plastic tiara aside.

you couldn’t help the airy gasp that slipped past your lips as he made a fist in the back of your head, pulling your face up toward his before tapping two fingers against your lips. 

heaven. you had flown straight of out pike house and somehow landed right at the pearly gates of heaven. 

your mouth fell open obediently, tongue rolling out like a welcome mat for his two thick digits to bully themselves inside. the stiff leather was coated in a warm, sticky substance that made your mouth water and your fists clench where they were folded neatly in your lap. fake blood. nice.

the flimsy plastic mask seemed to shiver as a hushed groan echoed inside of it. your tongue swirled over the leather pads of his fingers, sucking them clean like your life depended on it—and maybe it did, who knew?

the stranger’s thick index finger curled against your tongue and coaxed a soft whine to rise from the back of your throat. the stretch wasn’t too much, but paired with the sharp yank of the tight ponytail he had formed with your hair with his opposite hand, you were borderline delirious from stimulation. 

when the hand in your hair loosened without warning—like he was struggling to keep a solid grip—you blinked up at him with wide eyes and listened as the muffled breathing grew louder and even more rapid. you were desperate to see how far this would go while your shitty ex-roommate was still playing dead in the corner. 

an unexpectedly hard yank to your hair had you sitting up on your knees, face angled up toward the mask as a pleading whine bounced against the leather digits exploring the cavern of your mouth. your face had long since been reduced to pins and needles and the only thing you could do to ground yourself was seek reassurance in those black, empty eyes looming over you, even if all he did was stare back at you with blank, unfeeling apathy. 

you pulled your lips off of his knuckle with a quiet pop, wet eyes blinking up at the mask as you hesitantly wrapped your hands around his wrist. when he did nothing to pry you off of him, you pressed a gentle kiss to the tips of his fingers, licking a long stripe through the slit between the two digits and forcing them to part.

only when you were 100% certain that every trace of gooey, thick artificial blood had been licked clean from his glove did you sit back on your heels with a sickeningly sweet smile. “thank you for sparing my life, mr. killer.”

the mask was aimed directly at your face and you weren’t quite sure that it ever moved. he gave you a quick, restrained nod before finally releasing your hair. 

you shook your head to free your hair from the ponytail shape, only slightly concerned with the red handprint that must have been slapped across the back of your head. downstairs, you heard a lapse in the music and pouted as you wobbled to your feet. you missed your favorite song. 

almost instinctively, ghostface offered you his arm, leaving yet another bloody handprint on your elbow where he caught you from falling. “thank you,” you snorted, finding that small lapse in character insanely funny. this whole thing was hilarious to you and you really hoped that you would remember it when you woke up tomorrow morning for your econ lecture at noon. 

whose bedroom did courtney borrow for this? you prayed for that poor fucker’s sake that he was well-paid because there was no way in hell that all of that gore was coming out of this carpet. he could kiss his security deposit goodbye.

speaking of courtney, you turned to flip her off one last time before dipping to collect your abandoned drink and pointing an accusatory finger at the guy who was still pretending to be ghostface. “Make sure she cleans this up before one of the pledges sees. I don’t want you getting blacklisted.”

he nodded, slow and considerate. your lips found the straw and you took an idle little sip, reaching up to boop the sunken plastic nose of the mask before twirling around and slamming the door behind you. the air around your body instantly chilled—compared to the rest of the party, that bedroom had been broilingly hot.

another one of your favorite songs began to play but you ignored the urge to wobble your way downstairs and instead felt along down the dark hallway toward the bathroom. 

the dim yellow overhead lights flickered to life as soon as the door shut behind you and you leaned your entire weight over the porcelain sink. someone had been rifling through the medicine cabinet—some loose odds and ends were strewn across the counter.

you reached forward to pull the door of the medicine cabinet closed so you could catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror but your eyes instantly grew round and your mouth fell open at the sight of your own reflection. 

the entire bottom half of your face was painted in cartoonishly red fake blood. it caked your skin and rivered down your face like drool. you looked like a vampire immediately after chowing down on some poor unsuspecting person. your last-second princess costume had been transformed into a carrie-at-the-prom nightmare. 

you reached up and smeared the blood across your lips with the tips of your fingers, taking a single drop and tapping it against your tongue. it didn’t taste like cherry or corn syrup or chemicals. it tasted like old pennies. copper. 

it tasted real. 

a loud, blood-curdling scream echoed down the corridor and you felt your face grow numb. not even a full second later, there was a series of rapid knocks on the bathroom door and you blankly fumbled for the doorknob, eyes practically glazed over. all you could focus on was the taste of blood— blood—in your mouth. what were the odds that she sourced actual, genuine blood for this?

as soon as you unlocked the door, it swung outwards and you blinked up at the figure standing in the doorway. 

ethan’s face was flushed, eyes nearly half-lidded. he took one look at you and swallowed thickly. black mascara cast dark shadows across the apples of your cheeks and if you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought you had just been thoroughly fucked-out. 

you felt disconnected from the rest of your body, a dull prickly sensation stabbing over every inch of your exposed skin. ethan gulped, glancing up at the ceiling for a split-second before he could bring himself to meet your eye. meanwhile, you were scoping out the red-hot issue brewing in his khakis. 

“eth,” you whined, pulling a sad face as you shifted all your weight to one heel. “were you dancing without me?”

he always tended to get a little stiff whenever you dragged him out to the dance floor with your girlfriends at parties like this one. it wasn’t his fault. after the first few times, you started to realize that it kinda just…happened. it was flattering, honestly. 

ethan was a sweetheart—your sweetheart. your heart would have shattered into a million pieces on the floor between you if he’d told you that he had been downstairs dancing to your song while you sucked the soul out of some poor creep’s fingers in the upstairs bedroom. 

he cocked his head to the side, eyes wide and pleading as he silently begged you not to tease him. not here. not now. he really wouldn’t be able to handle it once you started.

ethan’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and he pushed the door open wider, reaching for your hand. “we gotta get out of here,” he croaked. “something happened.”

“oh shit. cops?” 

you glanced toward your cup on the rim of the sink and immediately swatted it into the trash can. there was no way in hell that you were getting busted for underage drinking the night before your favorite night of the year. spending halloween in a holding cell was at the very bottom of your bucket list. 

the world was moving in slow motion—the weed, the two lime-green jello shots you took downstairs, plus the drink you’ve been nursing since the pre-game you hosted in your room earlier that afternoon were all hitting you at once. 

ethan let out a stressed groan and glanced behind him. “not yet, but chad is talking to 911 downstairs. they’ll be here soon.”

you just then noticed that the music had stopped completely and the sound of voices were echoing up the stairs in its place. a breeze was crawling up the staircase from the front door which had been propped open as partygoers filed out onto the front lawn. “come on,” he said, voice on-edge as he guided you out of the bathroom by your hand. “i have to get you home.”

he said nothing about the blood that was trickling down your face and staining the neckline of your slip. you wrapped your fingers around his instantly, trailing absent-mindedly behind him as he guided you down the hall. when you passed the room at the top of the stairs, the door was propped wide open and a trail of blood was spilling out into the corridor.

you tried to peek over ethan’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of courtney begrudgingly scrubbing red goo off of the carpet, but she was still playing dead in the corner. 

“don’t look.” ethan snapped, instantly pulling your face into his chest. you planted your hands there against him, feeling every hastened breath and rapid thundering of his heart. the palm of his large hand closed over your eyes and you gasped at the sincerity in his tone, stumbling blindly as he led you back downstairs blindfolded. 

the dots were starting to connect and you felt yourself begin to sober up as an anxious, dreadful feeling began rising in your throat. “eth…”

courtney was dead—or hurt, at least. and you were the one who encouraged her attacker to stab her in the heart. you were the one who refused to listen when she begged you to get help. you were the one who licked her blood clean off of his fingers, looking him in the eye the entire time as if begging for him to let you do more. 

“ethan…” you tried again when he ignored you. “i think I’m gonna puke.”

“no, no, no— shit. you’re fine, (y/n). you’re okay.”

if eth said you were okay, you were going to be okay. simple as that. 

you felt numb—completely brainless—as he shoved his jacket over your bare shoulders (his jacket, because when you left the zeta house earlier that evening, you proudly proclaimed to him that a hoe never gets cold and that you wouldn’t need one). his hand found the small of your back and he rubbed comforting circles into your skin. 

the taste of copper was like acid on your tongue. you could only stare ahead as two police cruisers rolled up onto the lawn outside of pike house—the lawn which was now littered with red solo cups and the odd strands of toilet paper that also hung from the trees like thin ghosts. 

ethan squeezed your hand and you looked up, eyes blank and bleary. he shot you a quick, pitying smile, like the way someone would look at a cat with a jar stuck on its head. it was cute, but you couldn’t help but feel bad for it. “we’ll take that shortcut you like,” he said, thinking out loud as he led you toward the sidewalk away from the police. “the one that takes us by 7/11.”

with your back toward the house, you didn’t see the forensics team barrel inside through the front door. you had no way of knowing that at that very second, there was a group of officers closing off the room that you had stumbled into earlier that evening or that they were swabbing the carpet, the door, and every surface in between for dna. 

“mhm,” you hummed absently, almost completely spaced as you relied on ethan to guide you down the bustling new york city street. he supported your weight happily, knowing that when you woke up for class the next morning, it would be devastatingly easy to convince you that most of what took place tonight was a product of your vivid imagination. 

you would have no idea that after hours of labwork, they would find zero evidence that you had wandered upstairs at all or that ethan—your sweet baby ethan—had erased all traces of you from pike house, down to the big gulp you threw away in the upstairs bathroom.

he couldn’t have you blamed for his crimes. are you kidding? that would have defeated the whole purpose of putting courtney fucking carter at the top of his hit list. he wanted you to watch him play his sick little games without ever getting your hands dirty. 

what else were friends for, really?

[thatswhatsushesaid]

I mean this politely but why do you like Su She? Maybe it’s because I’ve only read the books/seen the donghua but he seems like such a non-character. Does he play more of a role in the live action adaptation or something?

hey, no worries at all! my biggest su she confession is that when i first read the book and watched the show, i straight up forgot who he was until his death in the guanyin temple confrontation. in cql, his death really is kind of a nothingburger moment for me; it happens very suddenly, he doesn't have much agency in how it all unfolds, and aside from jgy's genuinely crushed expression when he dies (the way he says "minshan!" in that moment while reaching out to him still hurts 🥺), it isn't a character death that held my attention that much.

it wasn't until i read the novel and reached his death scene there that i had a "whoa, this is su she? su 'i don't have control enough over my power to summon my sword from the bottom of a lake or avoid shooting wei wuxian in the arm' minshan?"

As expected, gurgles came from within Nie MingJue’s throat. His body turned away from the empty coffin as well. At once, he realized whom the person lying on Su She’s back was. Wei WuXian’s whistles could no longer stop him either. Like a gust of wind, Nie MingJue rushed over, his palm flying towards Jin GuangYao’s head.

Su She dodged to the side with force. With the tip of his foot he picked up the sword that had fallen to the ground and conjured up all of his spiritual energy in one thrust at Nie MingJue’s heart. Perhaps because of the dire situation, the attack was abnormally swift and ruthless. Brimming with spiritual energy, the blade glowed brightly, enveloped by swirling radiance. It was so much better than all of the previous seemingly-elegant attacks that even Wei WuXian wanted to praise its excellence. Nie MingJue was forced a step back by the explosion of an attack as well. As the light dimmed somewhat, Nie MingJue went forth again, clawing at Jin GuangYao unstoppably. Su She threw Jin GuangYao at Lan XiChen with his left hand, while with his right he sliced at Nie MingJue’s throat.

Nie MingJue’s entire body was as impenetrable as fine steel, but not the thread that stitched his neck together!

...

If the neck attack succeeded, even if it wouldn’t defeat Nie MingJue entirely, it’d still be able to save them some time. However, the sword had been infused with so much spiritual energy, due to Su She’s sudden explosion, that it could no longer withstand it. Halfway through the lunge, it broke into pieces with a crack. On the other hand, Nie MingJue’s punch landed right in the center of Su She’s chest. Su She’s splendor left as quickly as it came. He couldn’t even spit out a mouthful of blood or say a few last words, no matter with dignity or cruelty, before the life in his eyes went out.

Collapsed beside Lan XiChen, Jin GuangYao saw this scene as well. Whether because the bleeding and the pain intensified at his arm and stomach or from some other reason, the glisten of tears could be seen in his eyes.

- EXR translation pgs 1001-1002

so for me, it was reading his death sequence and realizing just how dramatically he had changed from that fumbling, mediocre, and quite frankly cowardly cultivator we meet in the first half of the novel--the guy who can't summon his sword from the bottom of a lake, who wants to sacrifice mianmian to save his own skin, who can't even fire an arrow straight--to this capable, powerful cultivator who is throwing himself in harm's way without hesitation to protect jgy, that made me want to take a second look at him. like... he's not charismatic, he's deeply resentful and bitter, the chip on his shoulder is following him straight to his grave. but he dies bravely and incandescently because he thought jgy was someone worth dying for, and that just hit me right in the gut, honestly.

anyway after that i went a little nuts revisiting almost every scene he's in in both the book and in cql, and i've blogged about my thoughts already!! if you feel like trawling through my "emotional support henchman" tag, that's where you'll find some of my other unhinged sms gushing. this is just the non-tl;dr version of why i like him, so i hope this answers your question 👍

[66sharkteeth]

WEEKLY THOUGHTS ON THIS WEEK'S EPISODE! Though tbh I think I covered a chunk of it last week-

This Claude arc has been some of the writing I'm most proud of in the entire comic, and I'm so happy other people are enjoying it too. Seeing Claude go from the series' punching bag to someone seemingly everyone's screaming over and pitying really feels like an accomplishment to me and I'm so glad even the people who don't love Claude are at least sympathizing with him (the vast majority anyway). Also shout out to Claude's leg for increasing my FP sales. I can't express enough how much my FP revenue's been impacted ever since the return. I got literally less than half of my usual income this month (when I needed it most lol) but the FP numbers *almost* returned to their old average this week, so thanks everyone who fast passed to see the fate of Claude's leg lol.

This is one of those episodes that was a long time coming and I have some kind of strong feelings about it. I've been planning to lop of his leg since high school, but I did admittedly start to get a pit in my stomach the closer it got. By the time these episodes publish, I'm usually over it and laughing to cope (see above), but I hope at least a few people were as disturbed as I was writing it. Which...I know sounds mean, but I really admire media that can get that feeling out of me (without going over the top and scarring me) and it's something I hope I can achieve too. Some of the most important pieces of media that influenced me growing up (FMA, some animations that inspired CoB, Paranoia Agent, etc), really gave me a gut-sinking level of disturbance as a kid, but boy I'm glad I saw them because they sure made an impact in a way that I think made me a stronger writer, and that's one of those things I hope I can achieve.

Anyway, to address a few points I'm seeing throughout the comments- 1. Jericho's reaction. I left it kind of vague on purpose. I have no comment on it and just leave you guys to speculate on how he will react or encourage you to FP to find out (sob please).

2. people legitimately criticizing joking about claude's leg. which is interesting to me. obv there's a lot of jokes and leg puns throughout the comments, and soooometimes I don't like that when a very serious episode's comment section is filled w/ nothing but jokes, buuut there are also enough real comments of concern and speculations and analysis of the ep that i really, really don't mind some leg jokes and puns, personally. like...as you can tell from the image above, even I'm not above making them. To the people who think it's actually fucked up for us to joke about this scene... I dunno. I personally laugh to cope, and I think a lot of other people are doing the same. I don't think anyone's literally going "LOL HE'S SO DEPRESSED HE MUTILATED HIMSELF," I think its just...funny leg puns to make a dark situation a little lighter. At least for the most part. I'm certainly not above joking about it, but as you'll see in the next episode, I'm also obviously taking it seriously and don't plan to make Claude such a butt of jokes now that he's reached this point. That would just be in bad taste. But... I think a leg pun here and there is still in line.

[witchofthesouls]

Okay, but what if sparklings were really rare, like if there was any carrier, there would be only one baby? But here comes Tarn and Camien Nurse with their massive brood of never-ending bitties and they're rubbing their combined fertility in everyone's faces. No one knows what's going on, but it looks like the djd have their hands on the only viable and ridiculous fertile womb on Cybertron at the moment

WHEEZE

Now I have the delightful scene of the Decepticons (and Autobots and Neutrals) just gawping at all the six little ducklings toddling and chirping after the Justice Division, and someone losing an arm or their head for trying to sneak away a bitty.

As well as the 'con rumor mill putting in overtime with misinformation and speculation over the wayward Camien carrier and the weird situation with Tarn, especially since, well, they're married with bitties everywhere.

There are jokes about Tarn's dedication to the Cause and how he jumped the gun to the last step. Of course, someone commented in an officer meeting about it. Maybe Starscream or Overlord being snide or mocking or perhaps Megatron making an offhand comment, but then Tarn has to drop the bomb about the incoming third clutch (what) from a drug-induced heat (WHAT).

Tarn is primly organizing his notes, while every mech has been gut-punched by the news. Everything stalled. It's so ridiculous that it highjacked the meeting. Induced what?

Not only did Hook step up his considerable round-the-clock requisition for personnel seizure and transfer, but Shockwave is getting curious about the entire ordeal, and others are poking their nasals into it...

This causes more incidents since Nurse isn't afraid to use scalpels in very unrecommended ways, but Vos is highly appreciative about it.

(Poor Nurse is also muttering half-hearted plans to geld Tarn and lock their own reproductive parts after the third clutch -damn if there's any other mecha that needs help with overcharge! A toy will do the trick! -because of the combined and completely absurd levels of fertility. Back on Caminus, this many sparklings would be the combined magic of two femmes, two trines, and the revelry of the Genus Festival. Not even the Resonants status could explain the near back-to-back carriages between Nurse and Tarn.)

Camien Nurse would be in a scramble because more interested parties would be hassling if such levels could be replicated with the other mechs (unlikely due to Cybertron's practices of resource decimation and how Functionists' standardization had severely fucked with their own reproductive capabilities and processes) or if there's something the metal of Caminus' children (also unlikely due to the severe deprivation from the Titan's griefstricken early departure and Camien's campaigns against the height of Quintessa's powers in the neighborhood.)

This could go ugly really fast, but there's the comedy aspect, too. Megatron could order Tarn to fuck his Conjunx with another mech in the process to experiment how lineages can be transferred. But now everyone has front row tickets to how territorial Tarn can be since he's ensuring 'the best' can have access and he's entitled to test potential sires (aka no else can take his Conjunx or his kids and he'll throw people into the local ship's waste management systems, well tend the environment's hostile and metal-eating fauna, and would dig up obscure rules that are considered obsolete yet never officially striken to turn away other mechs.) And Nurse was a pupil and adopted child of a Camien Healer that specialized in tracking and headhunting, and Tourniquet trained under a Healer that collected specimens in very unstable and/or hazardous domains. Nurse has many tricks tucked away in their plating.

[shelbbswrites]

So a few people asked, but really, I wanted to write about this specific shot from the Red, White & Royal Blue trailer.

And I want to include a gif so you can see the full movement of the shot as well. I've linked the source of the gif on it to give credit.

I want to approach this as just a construction of a scene in the movie and not compare it to the book by Casey McQuiston. Though, that may come later because I plan to write A LOT about this book/movie over the next month or so. Stay tuned for that!

——————————————————————————

A Lake-Side Depiction of Alex and Henry's Intimacy

First and foremost, it’s relevant to look at the placement of this scene within the Red, White & Royal Blue trailer before unpacking the shot itself. It is the second-to-last scene before the tag. It is sandwiched between Alex pleading with Henry to make their relationship work – to “figure out a way” they can “love each other on” their “own terms.” It’s a plea to break free of the societal and systematic structures that keep them from loving each other without any hindrances. It’s the trailer’s biggest gut punch and will likely be a turning point in the film.

The scene that follows the one of Alex and Henry on the dock is one fans of the books will recognize immediately. Regardless, it plays as a heart-wrenching goodbye between the two characters, who feel so much for each other but keep getting pulled about by forces outside their control. It’s moving to see Alex and Henry hug each other and find a brief comfort in each other’s arms, even though they can’t stay there forever – yet.

That context informs their next scene– the one of Alex and Henry at Alex’s family’s lake house (assuming the film keeps that from the book). The entire trailer sets up the international and interpersonal stakes of this relationship. They go from being pushed together by their teams in the first half to being pulled together on their own accord in the second half. In the time of the latter, Alex and Henry bridge the ocean between them with contact however they can manage – texts, emails, etc. – until they’re finally together again.

And when they are, it’s in this beautiful, serene environment that redefines the confines of their relationship. They are in the public sphere (as in, in the world), but they couldn’t be more far removed from the political limitations of their usual public spheres. Here, on this dock at a lake house, there are no suits and ties. There are no titles. They are not FSOTUS and a Prince; they’re Alex and Henry. They’re two people in love who fit together like puzzle pieces — down to the complementary colors of their swimming trunks.

Every element in the construction of this scene emphasizes that, even the camerawork. It’s easy to assume the camera will eventually pull in closer, but it will likely start from this higher, further perspective in the film. It’s Alex and Henry’s moment, and the camera may not want to intrude with a harsh cut-in on them. Instead, it comes to the characters in a way that gives Alex and Henry the space they so rarely get when they’re together.

It paints a portrait that juxtaposes their usual relationship with water. It goes from something that pulls them apart to something that pushes them together. It’s not a coincidence that Alex’s line, “It’s like there’s a rope attached to my chest, and it keeps pulling me to you,” plays over this scene in the trailer. Alex and Henry’s bodies scoot closer together like magnets above a body of water that isn’t their enemy but an ally. This water doesn’t mean distance and longing and hard goodbyes but the comfortability of peace and quiet.

So, it’s no wonder Alex and Henry literally open their bodies up to each other. With their arms raised, they are opening up the most vulnerable parts of themselves – their hearts. They aren’t closed off behind formal stances or other formalities; they are comfortable with each other. They trust each other. So, there’s a built-in emotional intimacy to this scene that extends beyond Henry’s kiss to Alex’s bicep, though that is incredibly sweet and speaks volumes. Yes, Alex and Henry love each other, but they also know each other, and this scene perfectly depicts that.

——————————————————————————

Watch the Red, White & Royal Blue trailer, and follow me for more writing about characters and stories that resonate with me.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Star-Crossed ||

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female reader

W/c 13.3k

Tags/warnings: Romeo & Juliet style gangster forbidden love Punisher/Daredevil AU, super-protective Matt, Jack Murdock is alive and well, some pretty old fashioned chauvinistic values, violence and injury, (protected and unprotected) p in v sex, oral (f rec), *spoiler* (kids in the future).

Author's note: Aaaaah it's finally done! I started this in December 2022 and I've had to leave and come back to it several times trying to work out how I wanted it to go. Huge big massive thanks to @mindidjarin , @the-fox-den and @theradioactivespidergwen for all the beta help! 

If you enjoyed it, let me know!

Epilogue

The Italians and the Irish. The Castigliones and the Murdocks. Two mob families that have been feuding for generations. One mired in dealing arms and the other in throwing deadly punches with them - running illicit underground fight clubs and loan sharking. 

Matthew Murdock was one of the best fighters in the entire city; after all he was the boxer Battlin' Jack Murdock's son. 'The Devil O' Hell's Kitchen' they called him. 

And he was your big brother.

He would certainly have some choice words for you if he knew where and who you were with right now.

"Princess, fuck, you're somethin' else y'know that?" 

Your body felt flushed with heat and bliss as you collapsed in Frank Castiglione's lap in the back seat of his car, laughing as his stubbled jaw tickles you when he kisses up and down your neck, like he's still hungry for you. 

"You say that every time Frank," you smile as you push yourself up off him, tutting as he ties up the condom and throws it out the fogged window before cleaning himself up.

Sometimes you have to pinch yourself to remind yourself that you aren’t dreaming. When the man that was so terrifying they gave him the nickname of 'The Punisher' was between your thighs, or you were between his, life felt like a fever dream. 

"I'll buy us a villa in the Lakes. You'd fuckin' love it there sweetheart, I just know it. You'll wake up and enjoy your morning coffee on the bedroom balcony overlooking the water. I'll treat you so goddamn right…"

The scene he painted with his words was so clear in your mind and yet- "Frank we can't -"

"Baby, you deserve more than what I can give you in a half hour in the back of my car."

You pretend not to hear, adjusting your dress to look a little more decent.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is enough for you.”

You sigh softly. You didn't need to see that puppy dog look of his to know life wasn’t fair.

"No Frankie, you know it's not, but I can't be with you like that… my father and Matty would kill you if I ran away to Italy with you!"

He tucks some of your disheveled hair behind your ear. "So you're just gonna keep leading me along like this, huh? I wanna be with you baby. I want you."

"Frankie I want you too, but they'll get suspicious if I spend any more time out and about. My da and brother think I'm taking a dance class right now."

He half snorts with laughter. "Yeah well when we 'dance' you do got some smokin' hot moves sweetheart; but I don't want you showin' them ones to anyone else."

"As if I would." You say with mock indignation. "Anyway, it's a good enough cover for why I'm always so worn out when I get home!"

Frank just smirks. "Let me at least take you dancing for real. Tell the old man you're going out with your girlfriends one night."

You roll your eyes. "Aye and if one of my da's men sees me out with you? You’ll be dead and I'll at least be locked up with a flippin' chastity belt forevermore after that!"

"Baby," He pleads and his words hit you in the heart and gut, "I've gotta be with you. We gotta find a way to make this work."

You push up off of him, frowning slightly. "The only way it could work is if you go straight. Get out of the family business and be respectable. Then maybe my da would at least listen to us instead of reaching for his gun."

He just laughs. "Me? Respectable? Well I wouldn't be able to give you trinkets like this if I was makin' a 'respectable' living now, could I?"

He produces a gold necklace from his waistcoat pocket and places it in your open palm, smiling at your surprise. It's a fine dainty sparkling chain with a little heart hanging from it. You turn the heart over and your breath catches in your throat as you read the small engraved letters 'FC' in flowing script.

You feel giddy. "Oh Frankie…" 

"Now you have my heart, sugar."

You want to scream out. Why did you have to go and fall in love with a boy from a crime family? Why did it have to be a Castiglione? It went against everything your two families stood for. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?!

You lean forward to kiss him, fingers smoothing down his lapels. "Frank, I… I love it, but you know I can't wear it…" 

He nods, resigned. "Yeah, sure." It feels like you've just kicked a puppy. You lift up your heel and slip it into your shoe for safekeeping.

"But I'll keep it with me, always."

He at least manages a smile and you kiss him again, chiding him as he sneaks his hands in places that'd make a priest blush.

"I've gotta go…"

"Ten more minutes, five even! Please babygirl, I'll make it worth your while." He pleads so prettily for the son of one of the cities' biggest mobsters and you very nearly crumble.

You extricate yourself from his grasp, trying to stay focused. If you got home late there would be questions. Your family was very protective of you. "You always make it worth my while Frankie."

"Dancing. This Friday. Wear one of your pretty dresses… mm, and don't bother with the panties."

"Frank!" 

He hands you your coat, his lips pressed into a smile that you want to kiss off his face. "Can't blame me for tryin'. Fuck, I'm missin' you already." 

"I'll seeya. Be careful." You say opening the car door and looking around to check the coast is clear before scooching out. 

"Friday, yeah?" He calls after you hopefully.

You turn and flash him a grin as your heels clack away down the alleyway. "Friday."

~

"How was yer dancin'?"

You just about manage to stop yourself from jumping six feet up in the air as Matthew appeared seemingly out of nowhere as you closed the front door behind you.

"Oh excitin' and tirin', as usual." You reply, hanging up your coat and placing your keys on the sideboard.

"Where's da?" You ask, noting that his coat was missing from its usual place.

"Out. He's meetin' some new guy. One of' the big fight brokers from the other side o' town. He can fix us up with some top names, reckons we can make some real good money."

"Why aren't you with him, Matty? You bein' the best one an all…"

"Yeah I'm goin'. Wanted to make sure you got home okay first. You've been getting back later 'n later each time yer out. Da was worried. An I was too."

You laugh. "Oh Matty, you're so damn sweet,  but I'm fine as you can well see. Us girls just love to gab on after, you know that."

He didn't look convinced but he nods all the same and that's when you see the blood drip down from behind his ear.

"Matthew yer bleedin'! I didn't know you had a fight tonight?" Your hands reach for his shoulders to keep him still as you have a closer look and then guide him towards the bathroom.

He shrugs. "Wasn't somethin' I planned exactly, one of the fuckin' Castiglione lads showed up at the gym. 

"What? Who was it?" 

It couldn't have been Frank, there was no way, but that didn't stop your heart creeping up your throat.

"One o' the younguns, just shit talkin' and tryin' to stir up trouble. Managed to clip me before I booted his arse down the street. Christ, I'd love a real excuse to fuckin' kill the lot of em…"

You stay silent, focusing your attention on gently cleaning the small cut and sticking a plaster over it.

"There. It's only a wee one, thankfully."

"Sis, yer a doll. Always lookin' out fer me." He pecks you on the cheek before grabbing his own coat and heading out. "We'll be back afore eleven. Stay inside okay?"

"Alright Matty, see you later."

~

It felt like you had been waiting months by the time Friday finally rolled around. You met the girls, Karen, Marci and Dinah at the dancehall, trying your best to pay attention and stay engaged in conversation but you found yourself constantly scanning the bar for him.

You freeze as you feel a hand on your waist and you whip around with your fist raised, ready to clock the slimeball who had dared to touch you. 

"Woah, sweetheart!" Frank raises his hands in submission and chuckles as your expression changes from pissed to adoring in a fraction of a second.

"Frankie." You purr as he slides his arm further around your waist and takes your softening fist in his hand.

"If you're done with the fightin', may I have this dance?" He asks, leading you onto the crowded dance floor. 

You nod and flash him a smile, trying to calm your excitement and allow yourself to melt into the solid mass of him, as you drift further away from your group of friends. "Missed you Frankie…" 

He pulls you even closer and you can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Missed you more. You look so gorgeous darlin'," he says. He dances with you for a while, and oh, he's got all the moves - spinning you around and dipping you for several songs before he's guiding you towards a quiet corner away from prying eyes. You giggle as he noses your ear and kisses your neck, and when you meet his hungry mouth his fingertips dance up the outside of your bare thigh making you shiver.

"Someone might see!" You warn. You should break away, but you're eager for his touch and he knows it.

"Don't care. I need a taste baby. Been thinkin' bout you all week. Can you feel that?" He asks, and it's a dumb question because he's rock hard against you and it's driving you insane. Your mouth goes dry as he takes your hand and holds it over the front of his pants. "That's what you do to me princess, fuck… that's what you do."

You glance around, your nerves on fire with the excitement of getting caught but no-one is paying the two of you any mind. 

"What about the bathrooms?" you pant into his mouth as he kisses you breathless again.

He grins, trying to hold in his groan as you squeeze his clothed cock in your hand. "What about 'em sweet girl?" He teases, knowing full well what you're implying.

As soon as the stall door's locked you pounce and it throws him for a loop. He's usually the one to take control but he'll be damned if he won't let you get what you want. You place both of his hands underneath your skirt right on your bare ass and you swear you could get addicted to seeing the expression that appears on his face as he realises you've honoured his request and you're not wearing a shred of underwear. 

He squeezes your warm flesh as you unbuckle his belt and open his pants, taking his thick cock in your hand and giving him a few firm strokes. You slip your hand into his pocket and find what you're looking for, tearing open the packet hurriedly and rolling the condom onto him before you hike up your leg and urge him to pull you up. 

It's a struggle for you both not to moan at the sensation as he sinks inside you. He turns you both so your back's against the stall, wrapping your legs around him and bracing his own legs wider so he can fuck you the way you crave. 

You hear people coming into the toilets, laughing and chatting but it's no big deal, it's the kind of place that young lovers meet to spend some 'quality time' together, and you two were no different. You'd asked your friends to let you know, unlikely as it was, if any of your family appeared, so you felt as if this was the closest to having a relaxed intimate time with Frank as you could get.

You're at eye level with him as he thrusts into you against the stall, you love being able to see his face when he's inside you and watch him try to hold it together when he comes apart. 

"Frankie," you moan, "oh fuck… feels so good!" 

He kisses you again and it's so possessive you almost lose it, his hand reaches up to grip the top of the stall to give him more leverage to drive into you deeper and harder. 

"Princess, you're a fuckin' dream. Touch yourself baby, make it feel good, that's right baby, let me feel it too."

You do as he says, unable to curb your impassioned cries as it takes almost no time at all to near the peak of your pleasure. 

"F-fuck Frank- ohh god-!"

He curls in against you, his breath hot and heavy, letting go as he feels you spasm around him with the last few desperate thrusts. 

"Marry me." He pants, still holding you tightly up against the stall door.

It takes a few seconds for the post orgasmic fog to clear from your brain so that you can process the words you think you just heard coming out of Frank's mouth.

"W-what?"

"Marry me darlin'.  I'm askin' you to make me an honest man. Will you?" 

"In the toilets? While you're still inside me?!" 

He chuckles. "Hell, I know it ain't Paris, I just… I love you."

You beam from ear to ear, laughing too. Suddenly it doesn't matter where you are, you're just overflowing with unfiltered glee at his words.

"Oh Frank, I love you too!" his lips meet yours over and over, raining kisses all over your face until you're both laughing so hard you have to slip out of his embrace.

"You uh, haven't given me an answer, sweetheart..."

You can't help your sigh as you press your palm to the side of his face. "I told you before baby, a miracle would have to happen for us to be married. I want to, Frankie, I really do more than anything but I just don't see how." 

He kisses you on the forehead before he cleans up and helps you fix your hair and dress. "Yeah, I know." He sighs.

~

You practically hop, skip and jump up the stairs when you get home, so elated with Frank's admission of love for you that the prospect of never being able to actually marry him couldn't even drag your mood down. Matt comes around the bottom of the staircase to see what all the noise was about.

"A good night then, love?" 

"Oh Matty, it was just perfect!"

He smiles wide. "Glad to hear it pet, love seein' you so happy."

You were dancing around so much that you failed to notice the necklace Frank had given you fall out of your shoe and land on one of the stairs.

But Matt noticed it. You'd disappeared into your room by the time he'd picked it up intending to give it back to you. But then he ran his thumb over the charm again and again, gritting his teeth harder each time he read the engraving. He couldn't believe it. 

He tried to stop the rage he felt rising from his gut, but this wouldn't stand, that was for sure. His little sister would not and could not ever be associated with that Castiglione scum. Matt's hands instinctively curled into fists. He was going to hunt down that son of a bitch and after he was done with him he knew he would never be going near you again.

~

When you come out of the shower and dress, the house is deadly quiet. You knew your dad was likely down at the gym training with the boys, but you called out for Matt, eager to hear about his next fixture. You loved your brother like no one else. After your mum was gone you were brought even closer together, most days you were never apart and even when he started fighting he'd always have the time to teach you some technique and even let you cut loose on him at the gym after school. He was so very protective of you when you started seeing boys, none of them were ever good enough for you and if he had his way you'd probably die a spinster. 

"Matty?" His jacket was still on the peg. Then a glint on the sideboard caught your eye. The necklace.

Oh no. 

Fuck, it must have fallen out earlier and he'd found it. You picked it up, brushing your thumb over Frank's initials. Your heart dropped like a stone as you knew what Matt was likely to do.

When you reach the warehouses down at the waterfront, you could already hear the commotion. A large circle of people stood near one of the huge open loading doors, mostly Castiglione men and some women, shouting and gesturing towards the center. You run up, forcing your way through the crowd to find the cause. 

Your eyes find Frank first. He'd look so fine if this was any other situation. The muscles on his chest and arms rippled as he stripped down to his vest. He was wrapping his hands with cloth as a few of his clan around him amped him up with whoops and hollers.

Opposite him stood your brother, still in his regular clothes with his shirt sleeves rolled up.

Your stomach lurched with a rioting combination of butterflies and bile. 

They were going to fight.

"No!" You shout, pushing your way past the crowd and running between them. You're not sure which one of them you were yelling at, your heart tearing itself in two with the prospect of what was about to happen.

"Go home wee girl," Matt barks, and Frank catches your eye. 

"He's right for once baby, get out of here. You don't need to watch me beat his ass."

"Frankie, no! Just let me talk to him, you don't have to do this, you don't need to fight!" You wheel around to face your brother. Your blood. 

"Please Matty, you don't understand! Stop," your eyes burn with the tears that threaten to flow. "Please don't, you can't… I love him!" 

You try pushing him back but it has little effect. He keeps on staring past you in the direction of Frank, his head tilting minutely as he listens to him tie off the last of the wrap and clap his hands together, testing them.

"I think I understand enough. An' I'll be talkin' to ya later, that's for fuckin' sure, now get on home!" Matt growls.

You shiver, feeling sick with anger and the sheer frustration that the two men you love with all your heart were going to fight because of you. It wasn't heroic, it wasn't romantic, it was raw and ugly and you wished you could do something to stop them.

"You wanna set rules?" Frank asks.

Matt almost snorts with laughter. "Rules? Rules?! Don't think ya know the meanin' o' the word seein' as you've had yer greasy mitts on my fuckin' sister!"

Frank wasn't going to publicly shame you by telling him that it was you who had come to him. No, if there was ever a hope for the two of you he'd play this clean and right by your family like you wanted.

"Fine." He nods, smacking his fists together and starting to circle his opponent. "C'mon then Murdock, if you wanna do it this way, ding-ding. Let's go."

They drew up fast to each other and it was Frank who threw the first punch. Matt easily ducked it, dodging to the side and countering with his own punch that you couldn't see land through your tears; but it hit its mark as you hear that sick sound that you would usually relish when you watched the betting fights. But not today. 

You run back home in a daze, unable to think of anything other than what if Matt kills him, and what will your father do to the two of you if he doesn't? 

Tears continue to blind you and your heart is a dull, burning weight in your chest as you reach the front door. You can hear the TV on in the living room so you run upstairs avoiding the inevitable questions. You throw yourself on your bed and cry into your pillow until you finally hear the front door slam. 

The voices of your father and Matthew are muffled at first and then your da is shouting. You cower as you expect him to come crashing through your door but it doesn't happen. A little while later there's a soft knocking at your door and Matt's voice floats through. "Little dove…  c'mon lass, it's over."

You let out a loud sob, the horror of what he might have done washing over you, he'd never killed anyone before but… 

"I hate you!" You push yourself up for long enough to scream through the door before burying your face in your bed covers again; pained heaving breaths wracking through your body as you cry your heart out.

He comes in and sits down on the edge of your bed as you turn away towards the wall. "You'll love me again soon enough. I've saved you a life o' heartbreak angel. He knows he won't be comin' near you again."

He sounds stuffed up, like his nose might be broken. Good. The words do little to stem the flood of anger you feel but now you know Frank is alive at least. "You can't stop me from seeing him, and you sure as hell can't control who I love!" 

Matt smooths his hand over your arm but you jerk away from his touch.

"Here, shush now, you want Da rippin ya a new one? I've only just managed to calm 'im down cause he's none too happy about the situation. You're a smart girl, you know this can't be. A Murdock and a Castiglione?" Matt spat the name like the taste of it in his mouth disgusted him. "It's bloody ridiculous! There's never been a time we've not been dead set against each other. And ya better not have been tellin' him any of our business… Da will go properly spare then."

"I’ve never told him anything! I don’t care about the stupid business because I'm in love with him Matty! I love Frank and none of you can change that."

Matt sighs deeply, his voice hardens. "That's enough now! You'll get over him eventually. There are plenty of better men out there that deserve ya anyways. I won't hear any more about it, an neither will Da. It's finished."

He makes you feel like a child and you can't stop your tears. You cry softly, your blanket damp and crumpled from gripping it so hard. 

Matt gets up. "We'll see ya downstairs for tea."

The door closes, and you feel more alone than ever before.

When you finally drag yourself downstairs to eat something your mouth drops open as you see Matt's face. Your earlier suspicions were correct, Frank had managed to break his nose, he had more than a couple of cuts on his brows too that Da had stitched for him, and from the way he moved around the table you could tell he was decently bruised. The fact that Frankie had gone down swinging was little comfort when it was your own kin hurt.

You ate in silence. Neither you nor your father were ready to look each other in the eye, nevermind speak. On the way to your room you looked for the necklace but it was gone. 

You cried yourself to sleep.

~

You spent most of the day alone in your room. Your father came in to check on you, but as soon as you opened your mouth to talk about Frank, he shook his head, slammed the door and left you angry and resentful all over again.

At night you found your bedroom window locked but that wasn’t going to put a stop to your plans. Using a hair grip and a lot of determination, you jimmied it open and climbed out and down the fire escape. Nelson's was where you were headed, they owned almost the entire meatpacking district and their main shop wasn't far from the house. Everyone went there so you knew you might be able to find out about Frank. 

The bell tinkled as you entered and Foggy was just closing up. But as soon as he saw it was you, he pulled off his apron and leapt over the counter to wrap his arms around you.

"Oh honey!"

"You heard?"

"You're surprised?" He asks as he leads you to the back of the shop so you're not seen. "It's pretty much all anyone's talking about. Actually thought your old man would have you locked in."

"Yeah well, so did he…"

Foggy laughs at that. He's Matt's best friend and practically family to you, and out of all of them he's the one that doesn't treat you like you're still a kid. You could trust him not to grass you up for sneaking out.

"Foggy, please tell me, have you heard anything about Frank, is he okay?"

"Well your bro didn't pull his punches…  He's pretty banged up from what I've heard, and uh, he’s in the infirmary. That much I do know."

Your heart feels like it's banging against your ribs and your stomach twists into a tight knot. "Oh my god, Foggy it's that bad? Wh- I need to- I need to see him!"

Foggy places his hands gently on your shoulders trying his best to calm you down. "Hey, it's okay. As far as I know it was just a precaution for concussion. Um, and for stitches, cracked ribs, and stuff. I know it's not what you wanna hear, but it coulda been a hell of a lot worse."

You swallow past the huge lump that's formed in your throat thinking about some of your brother's unluckier past opponents. "Yeah…"

He sits you down, gesturing at the makeshift bar beside him. "Tea, or…?"

"Something stronger, Fog." 

Foggy sighs and uncaps a half full bottle of scotch. He pours two glasses, and you quickly down the scotch, not caring about how rough it is or how much it burns. 

"You know I don't judge but geez, what have you gotten yourself into?"

You grip the glass tightly and wait for Foggy to give you another finger of scotch before answering. "He's so good to me, Foggy.. Nobody sees it and no one understands. They're just blinded by this fucking age old rivalry between our families. it's insane! I love him, he loves me and I don’t know why everyone can't just mind their goddamn business? Why can't we just be together?!"

He sighs again, deeper and more fraught this time. "The thing is, this is much bigger than love hon. This… it could trigger another war. You think your pop is pissed at you? I don't even wanna imagine what Don Castiglione is gonna do to his son even after what Matt's done to him over this. Your families don't cross, and when they do blood is always spilled!" 

Your brows knit together, face falling at the thought of how Frank might be punished, how he'd be kept from seeing you too. "Foggy, I need to see him. I know you must have contacts, you can help us meet without anyone knowing… please? Please can you do this for me?"

Foggy paces nervously. He loves you so much, would do near anything for you but…

He runs his hand slowly down his face. "Look, you just can't be seen near Frank at all, okay? You can't risk that and neither can I. But I do know someone; a nurse actually. She's a good friend and I might be able to get a note to him for you through her. But that's it, okay?" 

He wheezes at the surprising force as you fling your arms around him and he gives you a small smile as you hug him tightly in gratitude. 

"Thank you, Foggy!"

~

"There's our big cock-for-brains! How're the ribs, Francesco?"

Frank winces as he shifts on the couch to sit up as Billy swaggers in and throws himself down beside him.

"Better, asshole." he grumbles back.

Billy smirks. "Oh! Last time I checked I wasn't secretly fucking a Murdock but I'm the asshole? Heh, yeah that's a good one."

Frank doesn't even dignify his comment with a response but Billy keeps going.

"So, is she nasty? I'll bet she is. Does she fuck as well as that brother of hers fights? Actually, thinkin' about it she does seem to spend a lot of time with him-".

Billy gags as Frank suddenly grabs him around the throat, ignoring the dull pain in his body as he pushes him hard into the seat, choking.

"C-christ Frankie relax, I take it back! Fuck, I don't mean it, I just needed to know how serious you are about this girl!"

Frank lets him go with a growl. "You're fuckin' lucky you got such a pretty face Bill. If you were anyone else I woulda messed it up. 'Course I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah I can see that," he half laughs, coughing and rubbing at his throat. "Well, you better have this then." He hands Frank a folded up piece of paper.

Frank's eyes light up as they flit over your words, but then he scrubs his hand over his face shaking his head, his worries sinking in.

"What is it?"

"Shit, she thinks it's her fault that we were found out. Shouldn't have given her that damn necklace… should have been more careful… fuck!" He pushes himself up with a groan and starts pacing the room, the muscle in his jaw twitching and ticking as he thinks.

"I've fucked this up. I need to see her."

Billy's expression turns to concern. "Frankie, you love this girl, right?"

The intensity of Frank's look gives him the only answer he needs.

"Maybe you should just lay low for a while. The last thing you wanna do is potentially stir more shit up and get both of you in an even worse way. Just keep your head down, focus on the work, and then… who knows? Hell might freeze over."

Frank hates the idea of you thinking he's abandoned you, it guts him, but he knows Billy's right. He has to keep his distance for now. 

Fuck, he misses you.

~

A week goes by after you gave Foggy the note. And then another… and another. He can't possibly have given up on you, surely? But hope of ever seeing him again in the way that you did before starts fading quickly along with your anger at your brother. You had blamed him for everything, for perpetuating the rivalry, for telling your father, for putting Frank off you. You cried until you felt as though you had no tears left to cry.  

Matt tries his utmost to distract you from your moroseness, dragging you along to his fight fixtures that you used to love watching. But every one of his opponents that he beats just makes you think of Frank. 

There had been word of a huge arms shipment arriving at the docks later that week. Your father, uncles, and cousins spent most of their time planning on how they would get their hands on it before the Castiglione's could. It was a major job and a big risk, but if they could pull it off, it'd mean they could start selling weapons on the side and make even more money. You tried to talk your da out of it, piling up all the reasons he shouldn't get involved. But if there was anyone he was gonna take family business advice from, it was not going to be you.

"Matty I don't like this. We’ve got enough fingers in pies surely? We're doing alright, why is he so keen on going ahead with this job?"

Matt bounced gently against the ropes of the ring. "He wants to get one up on the Castiglione's, angel.  He won' let your little dalliance hold shame over us, he wants everyone to know who's boss."

Shame. The word made you grit your teeth till your jaw hurt, you were sick of this. Your father was a proud man, too proud sometimes. Nothing about it felt right but neither Matt nor your da would give your concerns the time of day. 

When the big night arrived you were ordered to stay behind, meet up with your girlfriends and go dancing or see a movie or something. Stay out of trouble.

Like hell. 

You carried on as if you were happy to stay home, but as soon as Matt and your da left to meet the others at the warehouse you followed a little way behind. You couldn't shake off the bad feeling that was slithering up your spine.

~

Frank smacked the cartridge back into the handgun he had just finished cleaning and laid it down on the massive table along with a gleaming array of other weapons. 

"Ragazzo, you ready?" Billy's voice drew him out of his silent brooding.

"Yeah, yeah. Gear up and we'll head to the docks. M'just itchin' for somebody to step out of line." Frank growls, slipping his gun in the back of his pants.

Billy throws him a grin and secretes his own arsenal of firearms and knives about his body. "Y'know, I kinda hope they do, I just love to watch you work, Frankie."

~

It was late when the boat docked. The Murdocks had intercepted it on its way in further down the river, overturned the guards and crew and steamed in ready for when the Castiglione's would inevitably be waiting for their delivery. You knew a couple of your cousins were stationed around the yard, lurking in the shadows of the huge containers just like you were. You knew how to stay hidden and move like a shadow when you needed to. Once a Murdock…

You see the Don's men arrive right on time, none the wiser as to what has happened until the gangplank is lowered and it's your da that steps out, flanked by two of his heavily armed henchmen. You couldn't see your brother.

"What the fuck is this?" Don Castiglione spits. He is every inch the gangster, tall, broad and extremely intimidating. You'd never seen him this close before but you could now see a bit of him in Frank.

"You Irish mutts think you can just take what's mine, huh? I'm insulted!  You should stay in your own little game Murdock. Take my advice, the guns do not suit you.

His men move forward and your da holds up a hand. "Now fellas, we don't wan any bloodshed tonight. If ye take a look around you'll find yer outnumbered n' outgunned. So, if ye will jist step aside we'll be loadin' these up in our trucks and'll get out of yer way and we'll hear no more about it, right?"

You see the rest of the Castigliones gradually appearing from out of the woodwork, and then you see him. Your heart sighs with relief that he's okay as far as you could make out. The glint of his piece shines in the moonlight as he moves to stand near the Don, who whispers something to him.

"Francesco, you are going to make good on your… mistake, and bring me my guns, capiche?"

They stand stock still for a long moment as Frank stares him down before they both suddenly spin on their heels as a deep voice like burnt gravel cuts the silence; effectively  interrupting the confrontation.

"Gentlemen. I believe I can resolve this rather… delicate situation that we have here…" 

It's Wilson Fisk. The fucking Kingpin. 

The metallic clack of weapons all around being raised and aimed at the newcomer echoes around the yard. However, the huge figure and his men remain unperturbed. 

"Mr Murdock," he continued calmly, "if you would please step aside, I will take what is mine."

Your blood runs cold. You knew your da would never back down. He was stubborn and tenacious and had definitely passed that trait on to you and Matt. Damn his fucking pride, you wanted to run out between them. Where the hell was Matty?

Just as you predicted your da stood his ground, finger hovering near the trigger.

"Y'think yer the fatcat around here don't ya, son? Well, I'm 'fraid to say that yer jist plain fat. Now run along an' let us men finish our business eh?"

Time slowed to a crawl. It was like everything was running through a sea of molasses. A shadow leaps over the railing of the boat onto the dock, it's running towards Fisk's men, Frank runs too as you see too late as Fisk's right-hand man raising his gun at your father. The shadow plows right into the second man who had also brought out his weapon, tackling him down to the asphalt. Several shots ring out like cracks of thunder and you scream as all you can see is your father dropping to the ground, there are more gunshots and then it's all over as quickly as it had begun. Your eyes frantically search the scene trying to understand what had just happened. 

Fisk is gone; disappeared into thin air along with one of his men. The other of Fisk’s henchmen was lying in a pool of blood at Matt's feet, one or both of the families had shot and killed him. You run out as you see your father being helped to his feet by Matt. They are alive and unhurt and you thank whatever gods would listen. 

It's then you see another body lying limp in front of them.

"No….no no no!" You hurtle across the yard towards it, Billy Russo and the Don are heading exactly the same direction. 

Towards Frank.

"Jesus Christ girl, what are you doing here?!" Matt rages at you. You fall to your knees as Billy turns Frank over onto his back, feeling for a pulse and listening for a breath; any sign that he is still alive.

Your father's voice is muddied in the background as the two families crowd around the scene. "H-He… that boy saved my life… he saved ma fuckin' life!" 

Blood seeps from Frank's stomach onto the ground.

"Frankie no, no don't die! Don't you fucking die! You hear me?!" Tears flood down your face as you grab his hand and squeeze. Billy puts pressure on the wound, slapping his face a couple of times trying to get him conscious. "C'mon bro, c'mon wake up for me! Wake up!" 

A van screeches up nearby and the Don orders his men to lift Frank and put him into the back. You climb in beside him, ignoring their protestations and grateful for Billy who snaps at them in finality. "She's coming with us.."

Matt runs up to the van after making sure your da is taken care of. "No… c'mon we need to get gone. You shouldn't even be here!"

"He saved our da, is that not worth anything?" You sob at him as Billy climbs in with you.

"Leave her be." Billy says. He slides the door shut and Matt's left standing as the van speeds off into the night.

~

Frank suddenly draws a wheezing breath as you hold onto his hand in the back of the van.

"Oh thank fuck. Frank! Frank, can you hear me?" Billy practically yells at him, ripping up his shirt and pressing it to the bullet wound as Frank gasps and groans in pain.

"Y-you holdin' my hand Russo?" He croaks, and you give it a squeeze, leaning over him so he can see you.

Your eyes briefly flick up to meet those of the Don, who has been silent the whole time.

"Frankie, you're okay." You tell your lover.  "They're taking you to a doctor.  You're gonna be okay." 

"Darlin'," he tries to sit up, starting to cough and you hold him down. "What you doin' he-" he coughs again and Billy helps keep him still.

"Shh, yeah I'm here, just don't move, don't move." You try not to think about how much red there is pouring out of him and onto your hands.

"Fuck… fuck it hurts- your dad, he okay?"

You stroke your fingers through his hair and try to smile. "Yes, oh god Frank, yes he's fine, he's fine! Now shh, don't speak, just hold on for me alright? You're gonna be okay, it won't be long.

You share a worried glance with Billy and hope that it's not far now.

Billy barrels through the A&E doors ahead of you and the Don's men who are carrying Frank.

"We need help here! Where's Claire? Get me Claire Temple!" he growls, taking an empty gurney from a nearby orderly and helping get Frank on it as he drifts in and out of consciousness.

A woman in scrubs very quickly appears from the triage area and immediately takes control. 

"Okay… we got a gunshot wound, anything else you wanna tell me? Was he conscious before now?" she asks you. A flash of recognition passes between you both, you had seen her patch Matt up after his fights a few times.

"No, no nothing else, yeah he was talking just a moment ago. He's lost a lot of blood on the way, can you help him, please?!" You plead.

"We'll do our best.  Please wait here."

Billy pulls you along as you both follow after the crash team taking Frank through the double doors, but Claire stops him short after she lets Frank's father go through with them.

"Hey, we're family too!" He protests.

"There's too many of you to let into the room, please, just wait here. Someone will update you as soon as we can. Right now, our main priority is to get him stabilised. Please, let us do our job."

The two of you reluctantly move over to the seating area as the other men go back outside to the van. Billy paces as you sit chewing your nails down to the quick.

"What you said…"

"What?" Billy asked.

"'We're family'." You say, catching his eye.

He stops his pacing, looking at you with sincerity. "If you're important to Frank, you're important to me. It's that simple."

You give him a small nod, returning to biting your nails and waiting with worry. 

Billy sits down beside you. "I'm sure he'll pull through. The fucker is hard to kill." he smiles and you return it, thankful that he's here.

"Yeah, he's gotta be alright."

~

After a few hours, Claire comes through the doors and you and Billy quickly get to your feet.

"He's stable. We were able to take the bullet out. It nicked an artery on the way in, but thankfully it missed his vital organs. We did have to give him a transfusion as he had lost a lot of blood. But, he's been stitched up and resting comfortably.”

"Oh my god," you felt the leaden weight lift off your shoulders slightly. "Claire, I can't thank you enough… Can we see him?" 

She nods. “You can. Just know that’s going to be groggy from the drugs we gave him. But I’m sure he’ll still appreciate the company.” You and Billy thank Claire before going into Frank’s room. 

He was groggy as Claire had warned you, but he returned the soft squeeze of your hand as you knelt down beside the bed. "Frankie, I'm so glad you're alright!"

"See, told you he was hard to kill." Billy said, patting Frank on the leg and smiling at him.

Frank chuckles, wincing slightly. "Yeah, you're not gettin' rid of me that easily. Baby, I'm sorry I got you into trouble. It's all my fault." He's looking into your eyes as he speaks, his hand reaching weakly for your face and you feel the bite of tears returning.

"Hey now, don't you cry over me darlin', I'll be alright. Everything's gonna be just fine, you didn't do nothin' wrong."

You sniff and laugh a little, stroking his hand that's cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears. "I'm the one that's supposed to be saying that! I missed you…"

"I missed you too. Not that I don't appreciate it, but you shouldn't be here. You should be with your family. With Fisk back on the scene it's dangerous baby, for all of us. What were you even doin' down at the docks?"

"I just had a bad feeling…" you interlace your fingers through his. "...but because of you my father is alive and well. I'm right where I need to be."

You're suddenly aware of an imposing presence as the Don entered the room. The man's even bigger than you had thought on seeing him up close. 

"Ah, so finally I get to meet the bella ragazza causing all of the trouble? The little bird that has my Francesco's heart, hm?"

Frank rolls his eyes. "Papa…"

You step forward. "I- I'm sorry Don Castiglione, I really didn't mean to-"

He takes your hand kissing the back of it briefly. "You make my boy happy, and so I am happy. So good to finally meet you, however I wish it were under better circumstances."

You swallow your nervousness down, nodding, actually surprised with how easy going he seems in private. "Thank you sir, it's great to meet you too."

"We are taking Francesco home tomorrow to recuperate, why don't you come and stay at the house with us? We have many rooms and I am certain he will recover faster if his love is nearby, hm?"

You're unsure what to say to such a generous offer, but Frank answers for you. "She'd love to papa."

You nod politely, still a little intimidated by the Don. "I would, but only if you're sure."

"It would be my pleasure, my dear."

Frank kisses the back of your hand. "Alright, I hate to say it but you better scoot, sweet thing. There's some shit we need to sort out…"

You sigh, not even being shot could stop the 'big men' from having their secret meetings. You bid the Don thanks and goodnight and catch Billy at the door. "Please will you make sure that he rests tonight and he doesn't do anything too stupid?"

Billy just chuckles, "you know that's an impossible ask, right?" He pulls you into a quick but surprisingly heartfelt hug as you stand up. "But I'll do my best bella nemica.

Frank can't help laughing softly at the nickname, groaning at the pain as it makes his stitches pull. "Oh that's a good one Bill, I'm stealin' that. You take care darlin', love you so much."

"I love you Frankie, I'll see you tomorrow!"

~

As you walk out into the hospital foyer you find your father waiting for you.

"Da, I…"

He pulls you into his arms, squeezing you so tight and you hug him back, relieved. "You shouldn't have been there tonight…"

You slump against him, the exhaustion from everything that happened suddenly hitting you like a truck. "I know, I'm sorry. I had to come, I was worried about you both. I'm so glad you're alright."

"Is he… okay?" 

You're surprised he cares at all about Frank but you nod. "Yeah, I've just seen him, he'll be fine. Where's Matty?"

"Out with boys patrollin', makin sure the streets are safe. Listen pet, I'm reckonin' we need to meet with the Castigliones to try an' organise some kind of truce. If Fisk is back and makin' a play to control the Kitchen we're gonna need more people an' it makes sense to join our forces."

You stare at him, your eyes wide not daring to believe. "Tell me you're serious. Please tell me you mean that da."

"That boy saved ma life, little dove. An it's war now, this changes things."

"But you've always hated them! Is Fisk really such bad news that you'd forget everything you drilled into me and ally with them?" 

"Darlin, ye have no idea…"

When you get back home you spend most of the night into the early morning talking with your father. He asks so many questions about Frank. He asks about his family and about your relationship, and you answer what you can. In turn you grill him about Fisk, and he paints a dour and terrifying picture. You understand now why he'd go back on his previous vow.

"I need ya to arrange a meetin' with the Don.  D'ya think you can talk to yer lad about it pet?"

"Uhuh, actually he offered me a room there so I could spend some time with Frank while he recovers… but I know what you're going to say so-"

He cuts you off. "Ye knew I was goin' to tell ye that ah think ye should go?" 

Your jaw almost hits the floor in disbelief. "You do?"

"Aye, you'll be safe enough there. Don's got a lotta men, an' that Russo I know is a good shot."

"Matty won't be happy." 

"No, but don't you worry 'bout that, I'll see to 'im."

You look into your father's eyes, and you can see he's asking for your help. You were scared. Kingpin had taken control of the shipment after everyone had scattered and who knew what else he had up his sleeve or when he'd choose to strike next. 

But this… this might just be the way to bring him down. If he knew anything about Hell's Kitchen, he'd never suspect an alliance like this. Fuck, even you would never had imagined it could be possible. 

The next morning you pack a bag, call a cab and go over what you're going to say to the Don when you get there. Matt must have stayed at the gym last night and you don't get a chance to speak with him. In a way you're almost glad as he'd probably chew you a new one for doing this.

The cab pulls up on the huge gravel drive and four well-armed guys in fine fitting suits give you a thorough once over and check your bag when you get out. 

"Hey! Keep your paws to yourselves, you animals. She's good." You are so relieved to hear Billy's voice, and he flashes you his charming smile while guiding you towards the imposing front door. 

"We figured Francesco would be safer here. The doc at the hospital wasn't keen on that idea, but what can they do?" He takes you straight inside. "You are here to help me look after the lil shit, aren't you?"

You follow him down the marble floored hallway, your eyes flitting around taking in the rather opulent but classic decor. "Of course, and who wouldn't rather recuperate at home if it's like this, holy crap!"

Billy smirks as he opens a door and ushers you inside the plush room.

You were so pleased to see Frank's smile. "Am I glad to see you again, sweetness." He tells you.

You bound across the floor to the huge bed that your beau is resting in. You're relieved that he looks so much better. You hold his face in your hands and are happy to see that he's back to a healthy colour. You pepper gentle kisses all over him, letting him know how happy you are that he’s better. Billy leaves you both to it and you're grateful to have some time alone with Frank. And so it seems, is he. 

"Frankie, you look good, how are you feeling today?" you ask, squealing in surprise when he pulls you into the bed to lie beside him. 

"Careful baby!" You exclaim before he's capturing your lips, not caring about the pain in the side of his gut if he gets to taste and feel you again. That wild want is there in his eyes when you break away and it's hard for you to resist giving in to it when his hands begin to roam over you.

"God I've missed you, missed having you…"

You huff at him. "Frank, you know I'd want nothing more… but you've got to rest, you've been shot for Christ's sake!!"

"Yeah, yeah I know," he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up mischievously. "but there's still some things I can do…" 

You feel the heat in your face even as you shake your head at the audacity of him. He never gives up, yet another thing you love about him.

"Just be serious for a minute.  My da’s asked if you can arrange a meeting between your father and him. He thinks our families should work together to stop Fisk."

He stops messing with you as he considers it. "Well shit, ain't the worst idea. And you agree?"

"I do. It makes sense, and it's the last thing Fisk would expect.

Frank mulls it over for a moment and then calls for Billy. "Hey man, can you get my dad in? Think we've got a proposal for him."

You're suddenly nervous for a different reason, hurriedly standing and smoothing down your clothes as the door opens. Frank reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, don't you worry baby." He reassures you under his breath. "Just tell him what you told me."

When you relate your own father's thoughts to the Don you're surprised when he doesn't interrupt, instead listening intently.

"...and where might the meeting happen?" He asks with interest.

"I think I know a place."

~

Foggy's in good spirits when you drop in to the shop. He’s glad that you’re okay, but his pleasant mood doesn't last when he hears what you've got to ask him.

“You want me to have The Murdocks and Castigliones under the same roof? Are you kidding me?”

"But your place is neutral ground, Foggy! There won't be any trouble I promise you."

He paces around frantically. "No trouble?! You can't promise me that!"

You fiddle with the snack display by the counter. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but if we can stop Fisk from becoming a permanent fixture everyone will be better off. Please Foggy, for the sake of the Kitchen." He stops his frantic pacing and pins you with a worried look.

“Fine. But if anyone gets shot, remind yourself I told you this was a bad idea.”

~

A couple of weeks later you found that Foggy wasn't exactly wrong in what he had told you. With the heads of both families and their closest lieutenants gathered in the large space of the Nelson's back room, the air quickly grew thick with tension. Matt arrived first with your father; stopping in his tracks as soon as he sensed you. You hadn't seen each other since that night at the docks.

"Matty-" you start. "alrigh' dove." he replies, only giving you a curt nod as he makes his way to the end of the long table. You sigh. This was going to be a long night.

When Frank comes in Matt stands quickly, his chair shrieking along the floor with his fists bunched at his sides. The Castigliones bristle, fingers itching and ready to reach for weapons. The tension was ramping up fast and it felt as though the meeting was about to fail even before it could begin.

"Ahh there he is. The golden boy. Fuckin’ cunt of the hour." Matt snaps.

"'The hell…?" Frank starts.

You found yourself getting to your feet.

"Christ Matt, will you just behave? Frank saved our da's life, does that mean nothing to you?"

"Aye it goes a way, but does he think he's better than us? That you're safer with him, with them, than us? Was that why you didn't come home, pet? Was this all his fuckin' idea too?!"

You'd never seen Matt this upset and angry before. You had to calm him down before something irreversible kicked off between the families. Frank shot you a concerned look but didn't interfere; knowing that anything he said could make things even worse. You pull Matty aside, whisper-yelling at him.

"Hey, listen to me Matt. Me staying at the Don's was da's idea, and getting everyone together was his too! Did you not know that?" You hiss.

Matt huffs. "No. I just thought that…" he paces before running a hand down your arm. "we're the ones that keep ya safe, love, yer family. Not them. It just feels like-" he stops himself, unable to fully admit his jealousy.

You urge him to continue, you don't want there to be bad blood between the two of you, especially now.

"I worry about ya dove. I know ya say ya love 'im, I just don' wanna see y'get hurt. When you're wit me, you're safe, y'can't get hurt. You know I love you too."

His expression is so honest it makes your heart burn.

"Matty, I love you so much, and I know you're just looking out for me but please, you've got to let me live my life for myself. I'm a grown woman now. You don't need to keep protecting me from everything!"

He sighs with resignation and you squeeze his arm.

"I know you're not sure about Frank but he really does love me, and I don't believe that he'd ever hurt me intentionally. And this? This is the best shot we've got at Fisk, you know that. Please don't throw this away Matt, do it for the Kitchen if not for me!"

He softens as you plead, "I'll do it for both of youse."

You kiss him on the cheek and whisper a sincere thank you before returning to the table where discussion is already underway. You walk over to stand beside Frank and kiss him swiftly. He's a little surprised that you'd make your relationship so public with the current situation as it is.

"S'everythin' okay princess?" He asks nervously as you place your hand in his, and let out a thankful sigh along with a shitload of tension.

"Everything's grand, Frankie." You say with a genuine smile. "Let's get this started."

The heads of the families agreed that they needed to find out what resources Fisk had, how many men and how much firepower he possessed before they made their move. It was proposed that members from each side should scout it out, and ultimately it was decided that Matthew and Frank would go.

As you watched Frank slip his pistol into his holster and give you a wink, you were reminded of the day you had first laid eyes on him. It felt like a lifetime ago even though it had been just over a year since you'd walked to the store with Matty, and Frank and Billy had been in there.

"Well that's my day ruined. Can't breathe in this town without runnin' into a Murdock, or two." Billy had remarked, looking you up and down with dark eyes and a devilish smile.

Matt stiffened, moving in front of you, jaw and fists clenched. "Y'know this is our territory Russo, so get lost or I'll help ya find your way out..."

However, your attention had been on Billy's companion, who you would later find out was the Don's son. His face was set hard, but he had warm brown eyes, and a big boxer's nose that drew your gaze. When they had left the store Frank had looked back over his shoulder, the faintest smile on his lips as he threw a wink your way and you found your face heating up.

Now they were heading into dangerous territory working together. Your heart was in your mouth as they both finished kitting up, arming themselves to the teeth just in case shit happened to go south.

"Please be careful." You say to Matt, your words somewhere between a prayer and a blessing.

"M'always careful, love." He replies before he lets Frank talk to you.

He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it as he looks into your eyes with a serious expression. "You promise me you'll go straight on home, yeah? Don't want you on these streets tonight baby."

You stroke the side of his face and bring your forehead to touch against his, breathing him in. "I promise. And promise me you'll look after each other."

Both men nod and then head for the door and you and your father head for home.

~

Matt stops Frank with his arm as he listens to check that the way is clear for them.

"Alrigh', we're good." He confirms after a couple of beats.

"Reckon we can get a read on em from up on that roof there, it covers most of their exits." Frank suggests, and Matt nods and follows. When they're situated, hunkered down side by side behind a low wall, Frank feels the oppression of something waiting to be said. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he clenches it and he can't stand it anymore.

"C'mon man, can we just get this over with? Say what you gotta say, I know you wanna. I can take it."

Matt swallows his pride and turns to his former foe after taking a pensive breath.

"Yeah, you're right, I have got somethin' t'say to ya. M'sorry. I was wrong about ya an I've been a right shitebag to you an ma sister all this time. But, there's a right thing to be done an' I'm hopin' tha we can move on?"

That wasn't what Frank had expected at all, a swift one-two knocking his brain around in his skull, but it felt like a dark cloud was lifting and he actually started to smile.

"I know you're just lookin' out for her Murdock, I get it, and I really appreciate you sayin' that. Might not have seemed like it but I've got a lot of respect for your family after meetin' that girl."

Matt nods. "Feelin's mutual. I shoulda just trusted her in the first place but y'know what's she's like, always gettin' hersel' into trouble."

Frank chuckles quietly. "Don't I know it."

They keep watch for a few more hours, noting the comings and goings of Fisk's men. After clocking where the weapons are stored, they manage to sneak in and get a good idea of what kind of firepower they have before reporting back.

The two long feuding families of Hell's Kitchen drive the Kingpin out of their territory in a spectacular blaze of fire and fists. He certainly didn't expect the Murdocks and Castigliones to team up and take back what was theirs; which was a huge advantage for the families. When Frank and your brother returned triumphant you leapt into Frank's arms, kissing him over and over and until he was almost begging for air.

When word spread of the victory everyone headed to Josie's to celebrate, but Frank knew his fight wasn't quite over. There was something else he had to do.

He's feeling like he knows real fear for the first time in a long while as he approaches Jack Murdock in the bar. He's got just one aim. One question.

Jack nods at him as he comes over, signaling the bartender to pour them a couple of whiskeys.

"Alright lad? We did good, eh?"

"Yeah, that we did. You, uh, know why I'm here?"

"Aye son, I know. C'mon then, out with it." Jack says to him.

Frank's mouth nervously forces a smile and he takes a deep breath before he begins.

"Sir, I'm sure by now you know just how much I care for your daughter, and if you don't, well… thing is I love her. Love her with all my soul and with your blessin', I want to ask her to spend the rest of our lives together.."

Your da raises an eyebrow. "Oh aye, is that so? An' would ya do right by her? 'Cos ya know if y'don't you'll have the whole clan comin down on ye like hellfire?"

"I know that and I will. She's my life now sir, couldn't love no one else more."

"Alright boy, but y'know we'll be watchin' ya."

He grins and raises his glass to Frank's own. "Well y'have my blessin', and I've no doubt she'll be happy wit ye."

Frank breathes out a solid sigh of relief and can't wait to tell you, to ask you to be his forever.

When he does it's a little bit more romantic than a toilet stall in the dancehall. He picks you up in his car the next evening. He's got the top down and is waiting next to the open passenger door as you step out of your house. You take his breath away every single time he sees you but tonight it's different, you no longer have to hide your love for each other. He takes your hand, takes all of you in, your dress, your hair, your beautiful smile. He knows he's a lucky man.

"Where are we going to baby?" You ask, but he only smiles and tells you to hold tight. You're curled around his arm the whole way as he drives you both to the hills outside of the city.

When he pulls up at a quiet parking spot you get out and can see the twinkle of the city lights below mirroring that of the starry sky. When you turn around to show your excitement he's pulling a hamper and blankets out of the trunk.

"Oh Frankie, this is so gorgeous! Thank you so much!" You squeal as you help lay out a blanket and he digs out some delicious treats, glasses, and a bottle of wine.

"Gorgeous spot for my gorgeous girl."

He opens the bottle then fills your glass and his own, and you raise them to clink and take a sip. He watches you looking out at the view, a mild breeze weaving through your hair. You're just sitting there and he almost can't believe how head over heels he is for you. Things could have turned out so differently but he's eternally grateful that they didn't.

When you turn to him you can't help but giggle at the insanely adoring way he's looking at you.

"What is it?" You smile, taking a bite from a plump red cherry.

Frank brings his hand up to the side of your face, his thumb passing lightly over your lips as you look up at him with your big eyes.

"God, I just…"

You tilt your head in curiosity as he reaches into the hamper for something, producing a small black box which he opens in front of you on bended knee. It's his mother's ring, a delicate and twisting precious metal band set with a small sparkling diamond glinting up at you.

"Oh Frank…" you gasp, any other words are lost in your surprise but he carries on.

"I love you baby, so goddamn much. And I know I asked you before but I'm askin' you now, proper. Your da gave me his blessing and I'm hopin' that you will too… please say yes darlin' and marry me? I've wanted to be yours since the first damn time I saw you. What do you say? Talk to me baby, don't leave me hangin' like this!"

Your hands come up to frame his face and you kiss him over and over and over as you answer an excited 'yes!' between every one. He's laughing with a smile so big as you hold out your hand for him to gently take the ring and slip it on your finger where it fits perfectly.

You kiss him again, this time it's slow and lingering on the lips and he wraps you up in his embrace as he deepens it, laying you down on the blanket underneath him. Your fingers slide into his hair and his hands squeeze the roundness of your ass eager to feel each other as your kisses become more heated and desperate.

Your eyes meet. "I'm yours forever now, Frank, make me feel like it."

He wastes no time answering your request, running his hands over your body, nipping and kissing at your earlobe and just below as he caresses your breast, and you push your hips up against his moaning with pleasure. You slip a hand down to feel his hardening cock through his pants, frantically scrabbling to loosen his belt and free him as he curls his fingers around the waistband of your panties pulling them down, his lips almost never leaving your skin.

"Baby, baby… mm, goddamn you're so perfect for me." He murmurs and you let the night sky hear just how good he makes you feel as he slides his fingers through your slick folds, teasing at your clit with light strokes.

"Yeah, you like that, huh? That what you need?"

"Frank please, I can't wait! Just- I need you…" you plead, pressing your body up against him and stroking your soft hands up and down his erection to make sure he gets the message.

"Oh shiiiit… alright sweetheart, shh-shh. I got you, I got you…" he whispers against your skin as he pushes his pants down and your silky dress up, quickly rolling on a condom. He moans along with you as he finally sheaths his thick length inside where you need him the most. both of you gasp at the feeling. You claw at his shirt, pull him as close as you can when he starts to rock into you. Every thrust of his hips has you desperate for the next, you want him so deep so that you can feel him for days after this and you tell him so, driving him crazy and making him fuck you even harder.

"Anythin' you want, I'll give you anythin' love, just wanna see your pretty face when you come for me."

He wraps a strong hand under your thigh, pulling it up making you moan out again at the new delicious angle, arching underneath him as he draws back almost all the way out and then fills you back up again, taking you so easily to the edge of an earth shattering climax. His hand comes up to cradle your face, watching you, seeing the love he feels for you reflected in your beautiful eyes.

"Frankie, you're gonna make me-" As you approach the precipice, the only thing in your mind is that he's yours and you are his.

He seals his mouth over yours, tongue teasing against your own, your whimpers muted as he does all he can to make you fall apart, to pulse and clench around him, your vision whiting out with only this blissful sensation spreading through your body and the sound of his voice in your ears while he talks you through it.

"Yeah baby, that's it my sweet girl… god I love you so fucking much-"

You cry out to the stars as you share in this intimate moment, showering each other in endless, breathless declarations of love.

.

.

Epilogue

[bastart13]

How would you rank the generals?

In how much I like them? Incredibly hard to say.

The generals have a fantastic group dynamic with them all being one insult away from killing each other despite having to share a breakfast table and ostensibly protect each other in war. That and the fact they each take a role as primary/secondary (second to the Witch Queen) antagonists in their corresponding protagonist's routes means I end up like one of them the most in different contexts.

Magnus is probably the least overtly entertaining, being the most serious and focused of the generals, but he gets some of the best fight scenes (special shout out to his final fight with Helena) and I enjoy both his pragmatism and absolute inability to kill without monologuing first. He's a straightforward bloothirsty man looking for power and I honestly respect the lack of complex motivation. Also, him getting addicted to soap operas in the modern world is some of the hardest I've laughed in the entire game.

Lennox is a bitch and I love it. His vibes are rancid and I have no idea how anyone trusts him enough to join his cult, but at the same time, I can see it. Despite being a coward and probably the least physically imposing of the generals, he can take a hit! Saerys has enough power to punch a tree in half and can outrun a horse, but Lennox can still put up a fight with him. He probably has the most entertaining dynamic with the other generals for being a manipulative shit, especially with how much Helena hates his guts.

Jinhai, then, has a really fun dynamic as the one general who kind of doesn't care about the Witch Queen. He's the most independent and really only cares about himself and indulging whatever freedoms and whims he wants, having more of a mutually beneficial relationship with her. This gives him great moments where they're all moments from tearing each other to pieces and he's just smiling and egging them on. I always laugh with how his reaction to Helena or Alain falling in love with the MC is just "fuck already and get it over with, we have bigger things going on."

...This is all outside of the moments where they die off like cannon fodder because the other routes remember they need to take them down one by one. Shout out to Magnus who gets sent to the shadow realm on a trip to town.

(Also Helena and Alain are also very funny as antagonists because they're played so much creepier. Helena and Alain be normal challenge, impossible. They've already kidnapped the MC and started stroking her hair)

[hugsandchaos]

Listen, Arthurlot angst!

So we make Lancelot part dragon, like how Shadow is part Black Arms. People fear dragons and some even hunt them, so Lancelot keeps his secret under lock and key. However, when Arthur has the day off and gets in trouble while in his disguise, Lancelot (who also has the day off) saves him from falling to his death.

Lancelot fails to recognize Arthur, although he notes that this stranger’s scent is familiar. Arthur and Lancelot either talk for a bit then and there or meet up again, and one of their conversations goes like this;

Arthur: The king really does not know of your other half?

Lancelot: No. If he did, he’d have my head on a wall by now.

Arthur: Surely, you don’t believe that.

Lancelot: It hurts to do so, but being kept as a pet or killed is much worse. In order to keep my life and freedom, I must assume the worst. You cannot say I am insane for doing that when there are hunters and even entire armies dedicated to killing dragons in many kingdoms.

And hearing that feels like a punch to the gut to Arthur because the man he loves fears him. He fears for his very life and freedom when he’s around Arthur.

So Arthur would slowly start doing research on dragons and talk about them with Lancelot when they’re alone, but he does it as if he admires them. In a way, he does. He does this to try to subtly coax Lancelot into trusting him, because after that talk in the forest, it’s become his goal to make sure his beloved knows that he’s safe. Something like;

Arthur: I can’t help but wonder how dragons breathe fire without burning themselves. It’s truly an odd and interesting thing. What a shame we don’t know much about them.

And when Lancelot realizes that Arthur knows, he’s terrified. Regardless of how close he is to revealing himself, he still starts to panic. But in the end, Arthur was able to assure him and swore that he was not going to harm him, that he was just as accepted as anyone else in the kingdom.

I imagine there being a scene where Lancelot has a breakdown or something, because he’s been afraid of this kind of thing his whole life. He’s been hunted and tortured and nearly killed many times, even as a child, and he’s finally safe? Arthur is there to let him cry and comfort him.

As a bonus, let’s say that hedgehogs don’t purr, but dragons do, and so does Lancelot. So while they’re having a peaceful time together, Arthur notices a rumbling noise from Lancelot and realizes he’s purring. So he does something like kiss him or bring him closer, and his knight purrs even louder.

Let’s hope Lancelot doesn’t realize he’s purring, he’d never recover from the embarrassment.

[charaznablespeteevee]

Would you share your thoughts on the Gundam you've seen? I added the first one to my list based on your posting about it (mostly the transition Char posting, he sounds like a fascinating character) and am not on Twitter to see your liveposting

Good question!! It seems like you want to know if I'd rec them so I'll answer based on that.

The original Mobile Suit Gundam (1979) absolutely I would rec to literally any anime fan. Both because it is a genuinely good anime, but equally because it's like. You know how people say you have to read the Bible to get all the references to the Bible in literature? It's like that. Gundam is one of the Bibles for anime. It's in everything. And you won't realize this until you watch it.

It's also a very good science fiction show just in general. The major characters are all great, the drama is compelling, and while some of the animation has not aged well, the newtype stuff has some super neat effects that are gorgeous to see on a big screen to this day.

It's also super accessible, the full show is available on Crunchyroll or if you don't want to commit watching a 43 episode show the three compilation movies are on Netflix and are a very solid alternative.

Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam (1985) - they got a big budget upgrade so everything is Bigger and More. More robots, more character drama, more romance, better music, and some bizarre segues into how men are from Mars and women are from Venus. Absolutely worth a watch if you liked the original Gundam because it continues to follow a lot of the original characters.

Mobile Suit Gundam ZZ (1986) - technically "skippable" if you consider 0079, Zeta, and Char's Counterattack a trilogy, which it kind of is. ZZ focuses on an almost entirely new cast of characters and the first half of the show is VERY heavy on the comedy before jumping directly into some of the best anime I've ever seen for the second half. The mood whiplash is kind of divisive among fans. Personally I like it and the characters are great. Worth a watch if you like what you've seen so far.

Char's Counterattack (1988) - caps off the gayass Amuro/Char rivalry and is just an amazing movie in general. Gorgeous visuals, and the final 15 minutes or so are a series of emotional gut-punches the likes of which I've rarely experienced in media. Must watch IMO.

War in the Pocket (1989) - six episode OVA featuring entirely new characters. This is a truly fantastic little series that lets you into the lives of a small handful of likeable characters and how their lives are affected by war. It's Gundam so guess how that goes. I liked it a LOT and recommend it. BONUS: This is a GREAT "starter" Gundam. It's short, it's very good, and you don't need to know anything about Gundam going in. There's a few references to prior lore, but they aren't anything major and a newcomer could easily figure it all out from context.

Mobile Suit Gundam F91 (1991) - this is a movie that was originally going to be made into a TV show and it shows, they stuffed far too much into too little time and it suffers for it. So unfortunately this is the first thing on this list I probably wouldn't rec. That said the characters are pretty fun and the ending is very good, so you can do a lot worse if you're bored or a completionist.

Mobile Suit Victory Gundam (1993) - this is what I'm watching right now! I'm a little over halfway done with it. This is all new characters and there are some interesting new concepts. For example the first twenty or so episodes were set on Earth so you got some really gorgeous scenery during mobile suit battles that made those scenes really visually distinctive compared to say, a battle in space. That said it's yet to really "pull me in" the way most other Gundam series did. For now I'm still waiting to see if it will do that or not.

Witch From Mercury - I'm assuming everyone knows what this is. It's gay as fuck, what can I say, and it's the entire reason I fell down into this Hell to begin with. 10/10

[natural-harmonia-posting]

[ In-person scene. ]

[ The front door opens with an abrupt sense of urgency, Drayden standing, haggard, in its frame. Alder is already there to greet him. "Hey. I thought I heard you pull up." He starts, reaching out to grab his husband's hand. He looks a mess. It makes his heart ache.

"What did you find out?" Drayden asks straight away, almost breathless. He at least lets him bring him closer, squeezing his hand and leaning in for a quick kiss. "Alder..." He murmurs as they part, his voice much smaller now. His face is almost unreadable to any outside observer, but Alder can plainly see the way grief twisted up behind his eyes, hiding in a subtle furrow of his brow.

"I know you're anxious to find out, but please, wait just a moment." Alder replies gently, pulling away from the man in order to shut the front door behind him. Still holding his hand, he glances down the hallway. The house is still and quiet. Drayden's eyes follow his, and he realizes how he isn't quite yet used to not being ran down and tackled by a gaggle of pokémon and children alike, while N peeked around the corner with a meek wave, soon trotting up to get a hug for themself. He missed that, it's been too long since he's been home. Nothing has been the same since the freeze. He glances at Alder again. ".. N is finally awake, honey." Drayden's breath catches. "And she needs to know she's loved. They're really struggling."

It's both a relief and a gut punch for him to hear. He's been preoccupied with Ingo and Emmet, yes, but N's state loomed over him the entire search as well. Just the memory of first seeing them in the hospital, their face swollen with purple and maroon splotches spanning across half of its surface, all hooked up to tubes and wires and beeping machinery, it makes his throat feel tight. What a relief to know he's awake again.

Alder continues. "So- I just want you to go see her for a bit before we talk about Ingo."

He nods slowly. ".. Alright. But you need to tell me as soon as N and I finish talking."

"'Course. I will."

Heart heavy, Drayden starts down the hall. Then he stops. "... Her?" He finally questions, raising an eyebrow at Alder.

"Oh, hah.. I accidentally found out he's been using she/her through his blog. I haven't brought it up with him yet. I'm waiting for them to tell me on their own time."

"Mm. I see." And then Drayden ducks into the hall once again, rounding a few corners until he's standing before N's room. Just peeking at the crack beneath the door, he can tell there's not a sliver of light coming from within. He hopes he's not disturbing any potential rest as he knocks gently on the worn wood, but admittedly, he feels almost desperate for them to answer. He taps his foot and adjusts his gloves in a nervous tic while he waits.

There's quiet shuffling inside. "Yes?" A wobbly voice croaks, sounding thick with sleep.

When he opens the door, N is still completely snuggled up in bed. Between the lights being fully out and the heaps of plushies and blankets piled up around her, it's almost hard to distinguish her from anything else. Once light pools in from the hall, though, Drayden can spot a thatch of green hair and a tired face peeking out from a fluffy blanket. "... Natural." He sighs, a weight pulled from his shoulders. He drops to a crouch next to the bed. "Great dragons. You're alright.." He has to drag a hand over his face to keep himself together.

More than likely only having expected Alder, N's eye stayed closed the entire time, until Drayden actually spoke. She blinked a few times, peering at him with blatant confusion. "... Drayden?" They warble, a spark warding away the cloudiness from their eye. They push themself to a hasty partial sit, blinking again, stifling a wince.

"Careful," Drayden places a hand on their shoulder to make sure they're stable. She looks much better than she did the last visit, he thinks. The swelling on her face is gone at last, though he can imagine that some may remain beneath the bandage. The scar poking out above her hairline seems less puffy and irritated. There's actual color to her skin now- she was completely pallid from blood loss originally.

"When did you get home..?" She starts to reach out for him, but stops short, looking hesitant. Almost self-conscious. Drayden hardly needs to be asked- he pulls N into a hug, large arms all but engulfing the woman. She draws in a shaky breath. She's stiff in his arms, doesn't move to reciprocate right away. Their hands, which now tremble almost constantly as a result of their injury, start to fidget.

"Just now. I came to see you first." His heart thrums when he realizes she's not moving to return the gesture. Did he mess up..? Is it too soon to give her a hug? He starts to loosen his hold, a bit of a pang in his chest, when N tentatively begins to wrap her arms around him in return. "... You can relax around me, Natural." He says quietly.

N has to swallow a growing lump in their throat. Their fingers curl in the back of Drayden's shirt, and carefully, they drop their head onto his chest, eye closing. There's some kind of awful feeling twisting up in her stomach, she can't quite figure it out. It eats her from within and pulls on her heart once it's sufficiently nauseated her. Drayden shouldn't have to put his search for Ingo on pause just to see her. Ingo was far more his family than she ever was.

"Alder told me you were struggling.. What's wrong?" He asks. The question makes N feel even a little more queasy, but his tone is soft, earnestly worried. He knows the man cares about them. It hurts them just as much as it heals them to recognize this.

"... Nothing." They whisper. "I'm okay."

Drayden pulls back a bit just to peer at her, his mouth quirked to the side questioningly, eyes slightly narrowed. It's not a mean look, but it cuts right through N in seconds. They duck their head just to avoid it.

"I-I just.. can we talk about it later?" She croaks. Sometimes, Drayden is grateful they're a terrible liar. "I missed you. I miss everyone."

He lets out a sigh, rubbing his back. Her shoulder blades jut out noticeably; she must not be eating well. He'll get onto her about that later. "Alright, kid.. we'll talk about it later. I missed you, too." He murmurs, a subtle break in his voice. ]

[the-last-rat-standing]

NCIS S21E02- The Stories We Leave Behind

Is that too harsh? Maybe it's too harsh.

Let me preface this by saying, I can only imagine how hard it must've been to write and film this episode. It's one reason why I don't write DeathFics, and those are only fictional people. Writing the passing of a real person, a friend and a colleague? Must be one of the hardest things to do as a writer.

So maybe that's why this felt so incredibly flat. Maybe trying to find that balance between dealing with the death and moving on dulled the emotional punch of it all? Because beyond the opening and closing, this was barely more than a clip episode shows throw in the middle of a season to save money. And of those flashbacks, we could only get ones with 3 characters who are still on the show, because Knight, Parker and even Torres didn't really know him. (I'll mention the Gibbs flashback in a second.) So you had this random assortment of clips that were supposed to engender emotions, but did the opposite in a way- because they weren't immediate reactions (they were memories), it actually lessened the emotional impact. You know what flashback would've been a kick to the gut? How about someone mention Cate, and then show us the clip of Ducky and Cate together? Then you would've gotten the one-two punch of 2 beloved characters now gone. Because if you're going to show a scene between Gibbs and Ducky that no one was present to see (using Ducky's journals as your 'out'), you could've shown Cate or Jenny or Ziva.

By not showing the funeral, fans missed out on a proper send off and a true tie-in with the past. I know Brian Dietzen said they didn't want it to be crammed full of guest stars, but the only guest star we got was a 3 minute cameo by Michael Weatherly?? If they'd had a funeral, they could've filled the church with faces we remembered and given characters/actors a chance to pay their respects. Imagine the nostalgia in seeing Hollis Mann, Jordan Hampton, Gerald Jackson, Ziva David (would've made sense since they brought Tony back), Abby Sciuto (I know, there are off-screen problems w/PP), Rachel Cranston, etc. I know Jessica Walter has also passed away, but what about the rest of Ducky's detective group? What about Jack Sloane? Yes, I know these may have added more storytelling time (particularly Abby and Jack) but did we need McGee's poison ivy flashback?

Other issues:

What happens to Nicholas Mallard? You know, Ducky's half-brother.

What happens to Gibbs' house?

What was the actual proof that the senator was dirty? I mean, real forensic proof? I didn't seem to hear anything other than Parker reading off the autopsy report and the Marine. Or I guess we're just meant to think that ruined his career? Because they didn't charge him with murder or anything.

The entire story hinged on McGee remembering one of the pictures hid a safe? Like Ducky's only clue to an important case was a cryptic line in his journal? smh

This was... this was just not good. One of, if not THE most beloved character on this show and we got a clip episode.

Which brings me back to the Gibbs flashback: As soon as they showed the picture of Gibbs and Ducky on the bookshelf, I knew we weren't going to see Mark. And that disappoints me more than it should, really. After tonight, we should never, ever see Gibbs on this show again, because there will be no bigger reason for him to return than Ducky's death, and he didn't show. Any reason after tonight will be bullshit and a slap in the face to the fans who supported and fell in love with the Gibbs/Ducky friendship. I'm so bitterly disappointed.