#(i am not proud of the shit i pulled but... ive come a long way)

[thefirstvessel]

I just realizing I'm coming up on a year since I resurfaced as Vessel!

[soombee]

🫂 ｡ﾟ⊹ you’ve built a home in my heart — 15. who’s the bitch boy now?!

:: u got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street. for your inconvenience, you quietly opened the door to meet a peculiar sight, someone trying to sleep on the floor across the hallway because their roommate has their gf over .. ?

warnings ⚠️ none, sappy shit </3

word count ‼️: 0.8k / 815 words

hai its been a long time ……. ( •̥ ̫ •̥ )

outside apartment complex, 5:38 pm

you stood outside the apartment building, waiting for your handsome date. you were excited, your heart beating out of your chest, your palms were extra sweaty, plus you couldn’t help but fidget with your fingers, hands, lips, and anything you could play with to relieve your anxiety.

you saw a familiar car pull up in front of you, “what the hell” you whisper to yourself as niki rolls the window down, “hey pretty lady! are u gonna get in or what?”

“hi silly” you flash your smile at him, “are you gonna open the door for me or what?”

“why yes, of course, anything for the princess of ansan, south korea” he says with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice as he makes his way to the passenger door, “and the queen of my heart.”

“shut the fuck up, riki” you accidentally hit his shoulder, “thank you” you kiss his cheek, feeling bad for the accident

when riki got in the car, you questioned him, curiosity took over you. “hey, isn’t this jay’s-“ he cut you off

“yes, it is, but it’s also mine” he kept his eyes on the road, “he gave me a safety key so i think he knows that ive been driving it” he smiles.

(6:30 pm, almost there)

“where are we going?” you asked, hoping for a clear answer, “you’ve been driving for foreverrr”

“secret” he sure loves keeping secrets

“did i dress for the occasion?” showing off your beautiful sundress, surely this question would make him slip

“maybe” riki laughs, he knows what your antics were. “whatever you ask, i wont tell you”

“whyyy” you pinch his cheek, making sure to leave a mark on his smug face

“cause it’s a secret and i don’t want to ruin the surprise” he pinches your nose, “plus we’re already here”

“hm?” you look through the windshield, seeing a beautiful blue beach, the water slowly running low on shore. its bright blue color like a cloudless sky

“ohmygod, it’s so pretty” you exclaim, not even hiding your excitement from riki

“just like you” he winks and gives you a lightskin stare while you just stare at him blankly, “okay nevermind then.”

“omg dude wait, i dont even have a swimsuit” you cup his cute face, his cheeks were so squishy and bouncy

“dont worry abt that, i already bought you one” he grins, you were concerned on what he bought you. “anyway, let’s go inside”

you followed riki as he led you towards the gorgeous beachside restaurant. the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, and the salty breeze tousled your hair. It felt perfect — too perfect almost, like something out of a movie. u hadn’t felt this excited and anxious at the same time in forever.

"come on, baby," he teased, giving you a mischievous grin as he opened the door to the restaurant

the interior is gorgeous, so homey and beautiful. fairy lights adorned the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the space. You two went outside, the beach was the perfect backdrop for your romantic date. He led you to a small table, already set with dinner—candles, a carefully laid-out platter of food, and all.

"riki, this is beautiful" you pouted, eyes wide in awe, “u did all of this?!!”

"well, jay lowkey helped a little," he admitted sheepishly, "but it was mostly me! and konon.."

you shook your head, a huge smile spreading across your face. "you know, for someone who jokes around a lot, you can be pretty romantic."

“pssshhhh,” he shrugged, pretending to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “you bring out the best in me, yn”

riki guided you to your seat and pulled it out for you. "my lady," he said with exaggerated politeness.

"why thank you, kind sir," you played along, feeling your heart swell with appreciation.

as you sat down, riki reached into his bag and pulled out a swimsuit. you couldn’t help but burst into laughter when you saw it—it was a pink two-piece with his face all over it!

"oh my god riki," you chuckled, holding it up. "really?"

"it’s cute!" he defended, but his grin told you he knew exactly what he was doing

"fine, fine," you sighed, still laughing. "i’ll wear it. but if I look ridiculous, you owe me."

"you could never look ridiculous," he replied smoothly, his gaze softening as he looked at you

you both sat in silence for a moment, the atmosphere suddenly shifting to something more serious, more intimate. the waves, the soft lights, his sweet gesture—it all felt so magical

"thank you, baby," you said softly, reaching for his face across the table. "this means a lot to me”

he put his hands over yours gently, his usual playful demeanor momentarily gone, “you mean a lot to me”

☆ prev || m.list || next — ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ xtras over here !!

taglist (open) !! @aernx @alicesolengg @beomgyusonlywife @yourmyst4r @j-wyoung @yumilovesloona @astrae4 @mrowwww @chaechae-23

[fireangel]

https://www.tumblr.com/ashadowofburnedoutstardust/785768647577714688/okay-so-you-all-know-that-ive-always-thought-it?source=share

im freshly back on tumblr after a long time sorry if i seem dense about this stuff, i was previously a huge fan of Chris he's still my comfort actor, so i went down the pr shitshow rabbithole (my mercury is in aquarius and i have 4 exhalted water placements, i sniffed some stuff out even as a more distant fan what can you do). you and another blogger have made compelling arguments. what i wanna know is where we stand on his political fact checking platform.

i found Pedro's recent comment saying "i know how to get along with everybody but that doesn't mean i like everybody" (i might be paraphrasing) really interesting because of the timing, i think it was right before the Materialists promo run that i first saw it, or just at the beginning. I suspected that his agency were zios based on the fact that Chris never spoke out about anything related to the issue to my knowledge and i have a feeling he's not super proud of that one movie, or maybe im missing some stuff 😭 cause i haven't seen him talk about it.

Hi Robo,

Just want to say thank you for sending an ask off anon, after all of the constant abuse I've had over the past couple of years anonymous asks still leave me a bit on edge

I am still of the opinion regardless of all of the other factors that had his bestie not been an attention seeking troll (who noone in the fandom actually liked anyway) hadn't been fame whore chasing blue tick friends dropping Polaroids as hints, and had his Publicist done her due diligence doing background checks on the people they had him following on IG for the SMA, nobody would be in this mess and that the buck ultimately stops with them

Had his team done their jobs properly and locked in an appropriate candidate from the beginning and not allowed the influence of social media traffic as a deciding factor he may still have a career to look forward to

The only crazy thing the fans have done is called out these egotists on their BS and refused to swallow

My opinion on the intentional PR sabotage being due to him starting a political fact checking platform honestly hasn't changed an iota throughout the entire shit show because it's just what made the most sense to me, you have to understand that I've always observed politics my entire life - it's a perfectly acceptable topic of discussion in my countries culture and not something we shy away from

The USA has been a behemoth bully the entirety of its existence and the intentional sabotage it imparts on those it seems a threat and with Christopher having such an active flame protective fandom and coming off the back of Marvel success, him entering the political arena would have been deemed as a type of threat that may have had teeth.

Given that his Uncle is formerly a career politician they may have seen him as a potential political competitor further along the line If he decided to leave acting and pull an Arnold Schwarzenegger and change careers he could have been a significant PR threat and able to gather a crowd behind him given the celebrity status he had already attained, I personally don't see him being able to pull that off but you never know how other may have viewed his potential, hence the extensive sabotage

I wasn't around in the fandom when RSDR was released and I've only watched it once, and only because it seemed like a necessity to understand why there was backlash to it. I did wonder if the Jenny Slate relationship was simply staged around that film due to the fact she is Jewish, but the again the possibility that he took the role because hie actual girlfriend was Jewish is also a possibility.

Ironically it may have been the backlash from this role that led him down the internet rabbit hole that led him to the thought process of creating ASP to begin with after realising what kind of influence Israel has on American politics and the way the media in the USA is controlled by billionaire oligarchs

While the creation of ASP may have been a motivating factor behind someone making arrangements behind the scenes to ensure sabotage it is unfortunately not the only factor to take into account, the level of sabotage has honestly made me fear for his physical safety and that of his family while they are in the USA, especially given the recent events of the assassinations of two Democrats.

I may be absolutely furious with the prick and his dumbass decisions but I'm not completely heartless

I have spoken of the fans being hacked and their attempts to blame it on me, the thing is these cleaners hired by his people were something the fandom had already experienced previously which I can only conclude added to the suspicions of some when it came to my appearance within the fandom due to my debunking and info flipping abilities and very outspokenness online,

I'm a teddy bear in reality that constantly gets my willingness to help other people to my own detriment taken advantage of

I cannot blame the other fans for having those suspicions about me, but unfortunately in this case they have been misdirected by the crew of people that were attempting to shut up the people they viewed as able to disturb their PR narrative that they had lost control of due to the leaking of the teachers side of the story on the LSA threads, this was well after the leaking of things from Chris friends and family

Technically the teacher reached out to me to create the group where she shared her story, someone within that group leaked the info to his team and then she was hacked by cleaners trying to redirect the narrative away from smelly and blamed it on me

The fact is these cleaners were already inside the fandom long before my arrival (and yes I could see them too) and it is a well established pattern if you read back far enough of someone from his team arranging this type of manipulation and control using the fandom as a punching bag and falling guy - this would have been under the direction of his Publicist Megan

The other factor you have to take into account is the many competing PR teams who may also have had plays etc within the fandom attempting to gain control to get the SMA PR partner spot which is what contributed to the utter chaos, which also didn't help the flow of the so called narrative storyline, it just undermined it

Had they actively locked in a candidate from the beginning and stuck with the the entire time it may have been believable, however we are where we are, with every single one of the candidates as well as Chris himself deemed nothing but an attention seeking troll liar by thousands of people who love to gossip

I personally will never ever forgive him due to the impact it has had on my life from the active sabotage that has taken place against me personally - what they have done is akin to international cyber terrorism, and the screenshots I have posted up will never ever be taken down voluntarily

I no longer care about the impact it has on his career, I have the right to defend myself, especially after what they did

The refusal of the fandom to submit to the BS they have attempted to feed them is a pure act of contempt, not out of spite for Christopher - but because the image they were previously sold was of a person who had integrity and valued honesty - and thousands of women know when they are being fucking lied to and do not appreciate the outright disrespectfulness to their emotional and intellectual intelligence

He is literally better off retiring IMHO

Those are just my thoughts

[synthaphone]

long post talking about making neopets style art, but not in a way that's useful or coherent or proofread

idk why of all the things that i struggle to do, the thing i keep coming back to trying to pull off is 'imitate the neopets art style circa 2004-2007'. i'm really proud of the stuff i make in that style, but i've always got a nagging feeling about how there's like, very few applications for this very specific skill i'm building, and i could be spending this time improving at anatomy or perspective or anything else. i guess that's just the power of 'wanting to learn something really bad' combined with, critically, 'believing im really close to figuring it out'

there's something about the line weights on a lot of old pets that's really hard for me to capture, and i've gone through a bunch of different ideas of why that is- like, maybe its easier to do in flash, or its something about the way i have the pressure sensitivity set up on my pen, or maybe the official artists also carefully shaped and weighted their lines while scaling the drawing down every so often to make sure they 'feel right' on a small scale (lol), or maybe its that shit that artists who've been inking shit for a long time learn how to do intuitively that i'm just not at the level of yet.

i'm looking at this smug bastard like. how do they decide which lines should be thick vs thin. my instinct is to go thicker on the corners of points like the ear tips, but this artist went thinner, and i think weighted the lines heavier on the undersides of shapes where the shadows are? neo artists aren't immune to stuff that frustrates me when i'm making pet art either, almost every pet has some part of their lineart that makes a weird tangent with the damn Circle. the linework on the hands straight up isn't clear at all, but i can tell what the pose is from how the shoulders are positioned and the expression of the character, so i guess that doesn't really matter at the end of the day

im pasting the lines i'm working on next to existing pets with varying levels of detail, but it might be too early to tell if they have the right level of clarity. i'm also i'm back in photoshop because that's easier for me, but maybe i should have tried flash again- doing the art in vectors does give the finished image that hard to detect Crispness that i'm always chasing

in order, these were drawn in photoshop in 2019, photoshop in 2022, and Flash in 2024. i was going to be like 'oh god, the Vully DOES look sharper than the centibyte, it must be Flash' but honestly i got the halloween one to look pretty close?? maybe i scaled down my photoshop images differently in 2019............ i think i've also gotten better at mimicking the lineart style, so it could also be that, but that doesn't account for why the top one looks kind of blurry in comparison. am i crazy. is it visible to anyone else.

anyway ive gone off on a tangent. for some reason this is what i'm obsessed with doing so i'm just gonna keep on trucking until something else seizes my attention instead i guess

[transgender-png]

ive come to a realization that i think explains a lot about me. (long post)

like a lot of kids, growing up, my parents didn't often tell us they were proud of us, at least not that i can remember. i suppose i had some sort of sense that they were, but when i look back at my (incredibly foggy) childhood memories, i mostly remember the ways i wasn't enough.

the past few years, particularly as i entered my senior year of high school, my parents started praising us more, especially my mom. she's admitted that she's worried that like her mother did to her, she won't tell us enough that she's proud of us, so she's doing it a lot now. maybe she had some self reflection or noticed the mistake she made in raising my older brothers.

but the thing is, i should've heard this stuff as a child, when i was first developing my sense of self. ive grown now, and ive learned to be proud of myself on my own, not because of her.

and if you praise someone too often, it actually has the adverse effect. it starts to feel empty and undeserved, and it's harder to believe it when you're then truly praised because you deserve it.

so it's too much too late. maybe it's early enough to fix it in my sister, but for me, the mistake has already been made and the effects settled in.

it's like making cookies or a cake, and remembering, after you've put it in the oven, that you forgot the sugar. you can pull it out and try adding sugar afterwards, but it won't fix the issues caused by the fact that you didn't add it at the right time.

so maybe she's now realized she forgot the sugar. and she's praying that because i haven't been in the oven for long, that it's still early enough to add the sugar in. but the damage has been done. the cookies don't taste right, the cake is off.

and she can try fixing it with icing. pray that it works. or simply pretend that, because she managed to frost it, that the dessert as a whole will be okay. but the icing doesn't fix anything, it's a bandaid on a scab. you can try to convince yourself that it worked, that you caught it in time, but the truth is, the bandaid won't do shit. the healing process has already started. the bandaid doesn't help now.

i hope, for my sister's sake, and maybe my mom's, that it's not too late for her. that the dough hasn't cooked yet, and she can fix the cookie by adding in the sugar now. but i can also see that she's adding too much. it'll turn out too sweet. but what can i do? she's trying her best. the other desserts already finished, but maybe she can save this one. who am i to take that away from her?

[fallingfavourites]

finale here we come!! am I really about to read a 13k fic at 12am? yes! and I will enjoy every second of it! OMG VIGILANTE SHIT REFERENCE SPOTTED IN THE SUMMARY!

- ... If he was truly innocent, why is he trying to cover his tracks?” - SPEAK ON IT!!! the whole qoute would've been too long to put on here but YES LETS GO!!!

FOGGY AND LIV MOMENT YESSSS the start of this chapter has me too hyped it's all about to go down hill 😞

I'm on the edge of my seat as if I don't even know what's happening!!

- “At the carousel, remember? You rode with me in the ambulance, stayed at the hospital until I woke up. Where’s he?” - oh that scene is going to hit different when I get to it after this 😭😔

- The ability to see something good in someone so far off their path. You never understood that ideology until recently but now… Now it felt like that was your own code. - June foreshadowing 🙂‍↕️ (most likely not intentionally since she didn't exist yet 🤞)

- “Seema wanted me to te-“ - you can't see me rn but my mouth is WIDE open, WDYM SHE DIDNT GET TO FINISH THE SENTENCE 😭😭

- “No.. No, he was gone before I got here. I just heard the shot.” - HER STILL PROTECTING DEX AFTER THAT OMG 😭

MY GIRL OMG 😞😞 SHES GOING THROUGH IT ☹️

- Now Ray was dead and it was your fault. - forcing my way through the screen rn to tell her it's not!!!

LATELY IVE BEEN DRESSING FOR REVENGE

me when livia is on her vigilante shit again

- Making them suffer was an art, and you had spent years developing your craft. - this is such a gag. I'm going to be thinking about this line for the rest of my life.

omg I am SO into it I'm completely forgetting to put down my reactions 😭 the tension between her and dex, I'm eating it UP!!

you write liv and Matt's arguments SO fucking well (you write everything insanely well tbf)!! like I always feel genuinely uneasy when I'm reading them, almost as if it's something I'm not suppose to be witnessing. It feels so personal to them.

- “You didn’t ruin that guy. There was hardly anything to ruin.” - welcome back to another episode of matt murdock pissing me off! 😄 (matt I love you deeply but please stfu 🤗)

- “Why are you so bitter?” You shouted. “You have everyone back and it’s still not enough.” - He is literally such a hater sometimes 😭 him and june def love hating on people (specifically livs exes) together 🙂‍↕️

I love when Livia calls him out on his bullshit

- “Забавно. Я собирался сказать тебе то же самое.” (Funny. I was going to tell you the same thing.) “Держись подальше от меня сегодня вечеро��.” He said simply, causing a small scoff from your chest. (Stay out my way tonight.) - my parents are fighting again ☹️

- ...for being exactly what he wanted you to be when you had first met. - EXACTLY!! she finally became the person he saw in her back in s1 and now he's being a dick about it

- “No!” Matt yelled in response. You made a face to yourself and knew you should pull the gun back you didn’t, not even when Matt came to your side to yell at Fisk. “God knows I want to, but you don’t get to destroy who I am.” - yayyyy! yippeee! he didn't do it!! (it's 1am I'm getting tired idk bestie 😭)

- “You will go back to prison and you will live the rest of your miserable life in a cage, knowing you’ll never have Vanessa. That this city rejected you, it beat you. We beat you!” Matt demanded and you were proud he found a way back to himself. - uhhmm... so about that...

this was EVERYTHING!! i should just stop here, not read the epilogue and not start the punisher spin off to keep myself sane, bc I fear I'll actually lose it 😭 (i will most definitely be reading all of it)

Billy Russo will HATE to see me coming (i will fight him)

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

Series Finale - Vigilante Shit

tags: @ironprincessstranger @americaarse @johnmurphys-sass @dusstory @astrobees @mayasaurus--rex @woowwwee // eight // epilogue // masterlist

Pairing: Matt x Livia

Word Count: 13,587 (and you wonder why it took me so long.)

Summary: Ladies always rise above but when one lady’s simply had enough, revenge takes human form in Hell’s Kitchen’s Exodus. With her rightful partner beside her, they take on the Kingpin and his former Bullseye.

“Do you affirm that the testimony you are about to give in the case now before the court will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” The bailiff asked simply as you took your seat on the stand. “This you affirm under the pains and penalties of perjury?”

“Yes.” You nodded calmly. “I do.”

“For the record, please state your name.” The judge said.

“I’m Special Agent Alivia Yersova, FBI SWAT. I’ve been with the bureau for a bit less than a year and all statements made here today are my own. My testimony does not reflect the beliefs or positions of the FBI and I accept any and all consequences my statements may bring.” You answered, keeping your eyes ahead as Tower stood and took his place in front of you. “In the short amount of time that I’ve been with the FBI, I’ve witnessed my bureau, specifically members of my team, fall victim to Fisk’s vicious manipulation.”

“Please explain in detail the crimes you’ve witnessed.” He said simply.

“I’ve witnessed slander and false accusations against one of the Nelson and Murdock attorneys responsible for his first arrest. I’ve witnessed a breach of his house arrest. I’ve witnessed his recruitment of agents and using those agents to kill people, both civilians and other agents. I’ve witnessed him coerce other crime syndicates into complying with a tax to ensure protection from federal prosecution.”

“What agents have you seen?”

“Special Agents Arinori and Poindexter, Special Agent in Charge Hattley. Special Agent Rahul Nadeem and myself witnessed but never participated past that and a few targeted raids. Neither of us pulled the trigger for Wilson Fisk, but we did nothing to stop it. There were others but I didn’t interact with them much.”

“The other agents that were mentioned by Agent Nadeem?”

“I believe so. I don’t remember their names but I could pick them out of a lineup.”

“And how many people were killed?”

“SAC Hattley killed Agent Winn. Special Agent Poindexter killed multiple people, I believe he killed the most. Given his unique skill set, he was a prime target for Fisk’s games. Innocent people died because of Wilson Fisk, good people like Father Lantom, because no one on my team was brave enough to come forward.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Who would believe a novice agent who helped put Fisk away in the first place? He knew no one would believe me if I spoke up sooner, given my very outspoken opinions against him. There was an instance, when he brought up the Nelson and Murdock attorney, that I had caused a scene. My words were driven by my sentimentality regarding the firm since I did have a small stint as an attorney there. From there, it didn’t matter what I knew and he recognized that. It didn’t matter how many times Poindexter brought me along without telling me what was really happening. It didn’t matter who I saw get killed or the fact that I was against him leaving the prison to begin with. He knew my credibility was low and I had no evidence so I wasn’t a threat to his plans… Not until someone else had enough. Agent Nadeem helped give me the courage to come forward with what I’ve seen.”

You glanced around at the jury and found them all - save for the one juror - interested in what you would say next. Tower offered a small, proud smile and Ray listened intently with his hands folded in front of him. He gave you a small nod of reassurance.

“It’s a scary thing, to feel like you have no choice but to do things you don’t agree with. Sometimes you go along for self preservation, sometimes for the people you care about. But at the end of it all, we have our limits. We can only take so much deceit before we have to do something…” You allowed your eyes to water, a shakiness to tint your voice and a slight hesitation between your sentences. “I let him convince me that my word wouldn’t matter, that I- I would just be some voice in the wind. I let him take my conviction. But I’m not going to stand down, not anymore. Wilson Fisk is afraid of what we came here to say because it’s true. The attack on our transport wasn’t a coincidence, nor was it an accident. He attempted to have us killed because of what we know and what we came here to say. If he was truly innocent, why is he trying to cover his tracks?”

“You mentioned repercussions before. Do you worry the FBI will punish you for this?”

“Not the FBI, but the agents Fisk controls. My SAC is in his pocket. My partner is in his pocket. Besides Agent Nadeem, in that hotel, I’m alone. No one protects me the way they protect him… If I lose my job, fine. If I lose my partner, okay. But I cannot stand to lose my loved ones.”

“Thank you, Agent.”

You and Ray were led out after that and you met with your friends in the hall. While Matt chatted with Ray, Foggy offered you a proud smile and moved to hug you but you simply pushed his hands away and began pacing a short distance. You pushed your fingers into your hair and tugged slightly on the ends.

Foggy looked over to Matt for help, but he was still in his conversation with Ray. Knowing that a win today would help ensure Matt stayed on the right track, Foggy decided not to cut in and talk to you on his own. He stepped in front of you and put his hands on your upper arms. You looked at him with your lips pressed together and your eyebrows up.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?” Your friend tried, ducking down to meet your eyes.

“It’s shot. The whole thing is shot.” You answered quietly, trying not to gain any more attention. “He didn’t just know about the trial.”

“What do you mean?”

“So what happens now?” Ray asked, drawing both Foggy’s and your attention. His brows furrowed but you stepped past him before he could speak.

You grabbed Matt’s arm and pulled him a couple steps away as Foggy answered Ray’s question.

You leaned in to speak quietly with your hand still gripping his arm and Matt’s hand landed on your elbow.

“What do you hear?” You asked softly.

His brows furrowed as he listened in, taking a step closer to the doors. As he focused, the grip he had on your arm tightened. You closed your eyes and cursed quietly.

“No, no, no.” Matt muttered and you nodded. “The jurors.”

“Fisk got to them.” You confirmed and opened your eyes, rolling your shoulders back and regaining your composure. “I felt it when we went in but I was hoping I was wrong.”

You glanced around the halls and felt a surge of emotions outside. Everyone still seemed entranced in Karen’s press conference. You had to give it to her, the woman was brave.

After a few anxiety ridden minutes, Tower came out of the courtroom with an apologetic expression as he passed your group. You opened your mouth to speak but he simply shook his head and headed to the cameras outside. You tapped your implant and listened in on the live broadcast from outside and you felt your stomach drop.

At this time, the grand jury had elected not to indict Wilson Fisk. But this office, under my leadership, will pursue every lead, every piece of evidence that leads us to uncovering the truth. The agents that testified today were incredibly brave and we encourage anyone with evidence regarding this case to come forward.

Everything outside continued to spike as you shut off your device and one familiar feeling stood out among the chaos.

“Karen.” You said to yourself as the boys began moving. You looked at them for a second before making a move to the doors. A hand closed around your arm and dragged you in the other direction.

“No, I have to-“ You groaned and tried to pull away but you were shoved forward instead. Looking over, you saw it was Matt who dragged you with him.

You took one last look over your shoulder before giving in and following the group. They hurried into the closest restroom and you locked the door behind you all. Ray pushed through and took a minute to himself while being quite literally sick to his stomach.

“It’s not gonna end like this, Ray. We’re not gonna let it.” Matt promised while leaning against the stalls.

Foggy stood by the sinks and you slid down with your back against the door until you were sitting up on your toes. You had elbows on your propped up knees and your chin resting behind your gently balled fists. Your eyes were trained on the floor, tracing the grout lines between the tiles.

Your brain was running through every scenario you could. You thought about whether or not he’d send Dex after you and Ray. It’d have to wait. There’s no way Dex could take you both out in a locked down courthouse. Would he go after Karen for her press conference? Or had he already wrecked her credibility? All you knew for sure was that it needed to end.

“The system will work.” Foggy ensured and you sighed to yourself. 

“You still believe that?” Matt scoffed and you looked up at him.

“Stop it.” You said quietly and he offered a sarcastic expression towards you.

“We’ve been here before. We can fix this.. Tower will impanel another grand jury and try again. We’re not done here. Right, Livia?”

“What keeps Fisk away from them this time though?” You asked simply as you turned towards your friend. “I wanna do this the right way, Foggy, but it’s not looking too good for us.”

“I told you this would happen.” Matt cut in.

“Matt, stop.” You sighed and pushed yourself to stand. “Fighting each other isn’t gonna help.”

“I need to know where you’re going.” Foggy blocked Matt’s path.

“Guys.” You warned firmly as Matt said “I’m gonna find Tower. Make sure he tries again.”

“I’m going with you.” You offered and you saw him roll his eyes behind his glasses. “Unless there’s a problem?”

“No.” He said tightly. “No problem.”

“Good.” You nodded before leaning closer to Foggy. “Take care of him. Don’t let him lose his nerve.”

Your friend nodded and you grabbed Matt’s arm on the way out.

“God, y’know what, we should’ve just done it our way from the start.” Matt mumbled. 

“Our way?” You laughed. “This is our way. The other thing? That’s my way, Matthew. You’ll never be able to do it and it’s not a bad thing. You can’t force yourself to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I almost wanna dare you to try because I know you won’t.”

“A lot has changed, Livia.”

“Sure, but people don’t completely flip on their morals.” You scoffed.

“Maybe I did. You don’t know.”

“Actually I do, because you’re too strong to do it. You have a certain faith in people that you can’t learn. If you were capable of doing what I do, Dex wouldn’t be around anymore. You believe that people can do good. It’s not the worst ideology to hold on to.”

“Clearly not everyone can.”

You stopped walking and yanked his arm to stop him. He groaned and faced you, a tight grip on his cane and a clench to his jaw.

“This isn’t just about you!” You insisted. “You do understand that, right?”

“Of course I know that. You really think I don’t?”

“Why is it your responsibility then?”

“Because it is!”

“So why didn’t you work this hard to stop me?” You challenged quietly. “If not everyone can be better, why didn’t you try to kill me? I gave you every reason to give up on me, treat me this exact same way, but you never did.”

“You’re not the same, Livia.” He sighed.

“Thankfully, neither are you and I. There’s always been someone taking people from me. Took my parents, Marc, Frank, Yelena and Nat, Billy, even you - twice - and Foggy, now Dex. I’m not gonna lose you a third time.”

“Livia, I didn’t realize-“

“No, you never do. You never see beyond what you’re doing. You do this and there’s no coming back from it. Something in your heart is gonna change and you can’t change it back. You can’t undo it.”

“I’m sorry. I just want this to be over with.”

“I know but…” You sighed and looked around, shifting your weight between your feet.

You were hit with a sudden feeling of determination. You turned towards where it came from, the bathroom you left Foggy and Ray in. With a quiet curse, you hurried back, only to find Ray gone and Foggy knocked out.

You screamed out in frustration and slammed an angry fist into the mirror, watching it shatter and become stained with the bloody print of your knuckles. You pushed out of the room and back into the hall, scanning the crowds in an effort to find him. But you saw nothing.

Ray was gone. And the clock was ticking on what kind of countermove Fisk would make against him. Against all of you.

You practically ran out of the courthouse, pushing past various security and reporters. They shouted questions, mentioning your badge and asking what side you were testifying for, but ignored them all. Some yelled that you were working for Fisk, you were one of the corrupted agents, but all you offered them was the middle finger.

From there, you ran home. The sun was already setting and you were running out of time. You changed quickly and used your mask to scan as far as it could.

You had finally heard from Rick and you were talking to Seema while wandering the streets.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Seema asked towards the end of the conversation.

“I wish I could tell you for sure… But I can’t. What we’ve done has put a massive target on us and our loved ones. All I know is that yours and Sami’s safety is all he cares about.”

“Tell him I love him.”

“I will. When I find him, he’ll call for goodbyes and then you can send a pin to that number I gave you. After that, ditch the phone.”

It wasn’t until hours later did you find him.

He went home.

You practically sprinted through the neighborhood to get there. The front door was open, side gate cracked, and the police tape was stretched from someone pushing it aside. The house was empty but you could see two figures in the backyard.

“…I can help you cut a deal with the DA.” Ray tried. “We can take him down, us and Livia.”

Dex gripped his gun tightly, though he hadn’t lifted it yet. His entire body was tense, practically vibrating with the anticipation of what he would do next. There was still a heavy apathy from Dex but there was an undercut of hesitation. Ray was still his friend, and that meant something to him. Not enough to change his mind, but something. Something you might be able to use against him.

“No.. That’s not gonna happen, Ray.” Dex shook his head with a small scoff.

“Dex.” You said carefully, pushing your mask up and lifting your hands in surrender. You walked slowly, putting yourself between the two former friends. “Think about this.”

“Move.” He answered tightly.

“I can help you, if you let me… Don’t make me your enemy, please.”

You tried to emphasize that hesitation but he would shove it back down as soon as it came up.

“I feel more myself than I have in my whole life. Fisk gave me that.”

“This isn’t you talking. This?” You gestured slightly between the two of you. “This is Fisk. He’s gotten in your head, Dex, and he’s turned us against each other. Don’t let him win! ”

“You don’t know me!” He shouted and you instinctively woke your Bite. “See?” He chuckled humorously. “You don’t really trust me.”

“What happened to the man that helped save my life?” You pressed gently with a pleading expression, taking a tentative step forward as you lowered your hands. Your devices still glowed at your wrists and Dex’s grip on his gun shifted. “At the carousel, remember? You rode with me in the ambulance, stayed at the hospital until I woke up. Where’s he?”

“That wasn’t me. It was you. It was your games.” He spat and your brows dropped and your jaw clenched.

“She cared about you, Dex.” Ray said from your side with a hand on your shoulder. “We both did. The only person that changed that was you.”

“Let me help you.” You tried that soft spot again. “I can’t do anything for you after this. I won’t.”

“I don’t care.” He shook his head and you nodded slightly, slowly moving a hand to reach one of the weapons at your belt. “I don’t need your help.”

“As long as I’m alive, my family’s at risk.” Ray admitted, though there was no hesitation.

Sadness, definitely, but it wasn’t any sudden revelation. Instead, it was acceptance. Understanding.

“Ray?” You asked over your shoulder.

“It’ll be alright.”

“Let’s go, Ray.” Dex said, lifting his gun. You sidestepped to put yourself in front of Ray again as you drew your own weapon. “Move, Livia.”

There was a slight plea in his expression, though his body language didn’t falter.

Something human was left in Dex, some tiny flicker of light. Something like that used to be enough for Matt to believe in, to give them a chance to change. Without him honoring his own prior morals, you realized that was part of why you didn’t give up on Dex.

Not the sex or the friendship. But the hope, hope that months of running around with the altar boy vigilante attached to your hip pinned to your own conscience. The ability to see something good in someone so far off their path. You never understood that ideology until recently but now… Now it felt like that was your own code.

But clearly, the flicker wasn’t enough. And you couldn’t work by someone else’s morality.

“Thought you were good enough to shoot around me.” You taunted as you lined up your own gun.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Dex.” Ray said and you felt that wave of acceptance again. “Whatever you need to do, you do it here.”

Ray had accepted his own death. And the only way you could stop it would be to kill Dex. You turned to face Ray, purposefully putting your body in front of his with the hopes that Dex wouldn’t shoot through.

“We can still get out of this.” You tried, feeling a deep regret settle in your stomach. “I can-“

“And do what, run? I can’t put my family through anything else, Livia.”

“Ray, please. I can’t bring your family back to you if you’re in a body bag.”

“Hey.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “Just do this the right way, alright?”

“Seema wanted me to te-“

Before you could get the sentence out, the gun fired behind you. The bullet nicked your ear but hit its mark.

You backed away with unsteady legs while Ray fell to the ground with a bullet hole in his forehead. Your gun fell from your hands as you collapsed to your knees. Almost instantly your eyes watered as you stared at the now corpse of your friend. It was almost enough to make you scream as you sat beside the man that risked everything to stand up to Fisk, to stand up for what he believed in. To protect his family.

His family.

Your heart broke for Seema and Sami, and you thought about who would give them the news. The news that you had failed. You didn’t keep him safe.

“She loves you.” You said quietly as your entire body ran cold. “Seema wanted me to tell you she loves you.”

Your hand shook as you reached for your scar and pressed it, sliding along until you heard the dial tone.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“This is.. This is Exodus.” You spoke shakily with your accent, fighting to keep control as the tears fell down your cheeks. “I’m at.. Fisk had him killed. He’s- He’s dead. I need.. I need an ambulance or police or something. Just send someone!”

“Exodus? Okay um…” The line went quiet as the operator spoke to someone else on the side, probably asking advice with a vigilante on the line. “Where are you? Who’s dead?”

“Special-“ Your voice broke. “Special Agent Rahul Nadeem. He shot him in his own backyard.”

“Did you see who killed him?”

“No.. No, he was gone before I got here. I just heard the shot.”

“Okay. We have units en route. Can you stay with Mr.Nadeem until they arrive?”

“No, I- I have to go. They’ll arrest me. I- I have to- I have to go. I can’t be here when they arrive.”

“Wait.”

“He has a wife and a son. Just tell um, tell Detective Brett Mahoney to contact Nadeem’s legal team. Someone has to tell them.”

“Ma’am, please, just wait until-“

“I can’t… I can’t, I’m sorry.”

You ended the call and looked down at Ray.

“I’m sorry, Ray. I’m so sorry.”

You sat back for a moment to pull your knees to your chest. You wrapped your arms around them and rocked slightly as you let yourself cry. You tried to keep the noise down, but small wails left your throat. When you heard the sirens down the street, you had to pull yourself together and collect your gun. With one last look, you hopped the fence and made your way back to the apartment.

You tried to push the guilt away but it came back to gnaw at you. You should’ve just killed Dex. You shouldn’t have tried to reason with him. You should’ve taken him down when you got there. Why did you reveal yourself? Why didn’t you kill him? Why didn’t you do anything?

You had your own ways for a reason. Using Matt’s wouldn’t bring back the man you knew. And it wouldn’t save anyone.

Now Ray was dead and it was your fault.

All you could do was keep moving forward. But there was nothing more Livia could do. The chance with the law and by the books was over. You wanted to stay on the path, to do things Foggy’s way - the right way - but you were at your wits end. Every time you tried to do things right, you lost. You wouldn’t lose again.

You wouldn’t dress yourself as Exodus to serve a villain. You wouldn’t dress as Exodus to serve the innocent. You would dress for revenge. You would dress to renew the sense of fear that your vigilante persona - just her name - used to invoke. To make Ben Poindexter pay for the lives he took. To make Wilson Fisk pay for the crimes he’d committed. And if they paid with their lives, so be it.

You wouldn’t be nice any longer. Both men had pushed you too far.

Killing people was easy. Making them suffer was an art, and you had spent years developing your craft. You would make them regret the moment you were made their enemy.

You ignored the phone calls from Foggy. His voicemails all said he needed to talk to you and he didn’t want to say it on a message, so you knew Brett told them what happened. Other numbers you didn’t recognize called but you ignored them too. Reporters, you figured.

On your way home, you were distracted by the distinct taste of fear. With a small noise of interest, you followed it. You weren’t necessarily shocked to see Matt was there at the source, but it was a surprise to see him with Felix Manning.

“Should’ve called.” You told him as you got to his side.

“Didn’t have time.” He shrugged with that smirk he always used to have back when you found him when you two didn’t know each other’s identities. When things were a lot simpler. “You hear what happened?“

“To Nadeem? How we fucked it up, again.”

“Yeah.” He answered in a whisper.

You nodded quietly and he frowned slightly. He reached for your arm but you crossed them over your chest and peered over the edge, looking at the knot that held Manning’s ankle. You gave the rope a small shake and the man screamed with a new wave of panic.

“What have you gotten so far?” You turned to Matt, though the mask did little to hide his expression. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He opened his mouth for a joke but you smacked his arm before he could get a word out. He laughed quietly and put his hands up in surrender.

“Fisk’s gathering a bunch of figureheads for a wedding.” Matt explained.

“Vanessa’s gonna marry him?” Your brows furrowed and Matt gave a nonchalant shrug. You leaned over the edge and yelled to Manning. “Do we get an invite?”

All he could do was scream.

“Sounds like a no.” Matt answered and you almost smiled, though Manning’s screams were rather distracting.

You groaned loudly before reaching forward. You made a small pulling motion and felt the fear draw out of him. The yellow smoke came to your hand and swirled up your arm and you felt the tingle down your spine as you absorbed it.

“I can give you something better.” Manning called from the end of the rope.

You hummed in interest and climbed to sit on the ledge, feet kicking idly as Matt sat beside you with his ankles crossed. If it hadn’t been for the man dangling just a few feet down, it would’ve been a nice moment together.

“We’re listening.” Matt said simply.

“I witnessed Ms. Marianna order the murder of Agent Nadeem. And Fisk ordered many!” He shouted and you felt a new wave of anger run down your spine. You ground your teeth and balled your hands into fists. Matt’s hand came up to your jaw and pressed gently on the joint to make you release the tension. You made a small noise and took his hand off your face, holding it between your own and dropping into your lap. “Agent Winn. Julie Barnes. I could testify!”

“Где был этот парень раньше?” You muttered and Matt nudged you with his shoulder. “Мог бы позволить ему умереть вместо Рэя.” (Where was this guy earlier? Could’ve let him die instead of Ray.)

“Будь милым.” Matt said with light amusement in his voice. He knew what happened to Ray upset you and he figured you would blame yourself. But at least your words were what he was used to. “Мы могли бы его использовать.” (Be nice. We could use him.)

“Hang on..” You realized and peered over the edge. “We know Winn and Nadeem. Did you say Julie Barnes?”

“Yes! Yes, he did!”

You let out a laugh in celebration and the sound seemed misplaced in the current situation. That was exactly what you had been waiting for. Confirmation. Confirmation of the one thing that could snap Dex, in every sense of the word. Confirmation that Julie Barnes, the woman that he had been obsessing over since before you met him, was dead and that Fisk was to blame.

“Help me get him up.” You told Matt quickly as you climbed back to the roof.

“Why?” Matt asked, though he followed suit.

“Ты хотел подтолкнуть Декса на грань? Вот как мы это делаем.” You answered quickly and he nodded quietly. (You wanted to push Dex to the brink? This is how we do it.)

You got Manning to tell you everything you needed to know about Julie. How she was killed. Where she was killed. Where her body currently was. Everything you needed to throw in Dex’s face and break whatever was left.

A day or two later, you were standing at a press conference at the bureau. It was an official statement regarding Ray and Agent Winn’s deaths. Hattley claimed Ray was mentally unstable, that Karen was a liar and the alleged 911 call from Exodus was fake. You almost laughed when Hattley had to redirect questions about Exodus finding the body, but she admitted it was an agent who killed him, under the guise of self-defense.

You tried to duck out of the office following the press conference but a hand wrapped around your arm tightly. You let out a small wince when you were yanked back before you were redirected and pushed towards one of the conference rooms. You were able to yank your arm free just outside the door, where you saw Seema sitting inside.

“What the hell is this?” You asked sharply as you spun on Dex. “You wanna rub salt in her wounds?”

“She came to us, said she wants to see Ray’s lawyers.” He explained simply.

“So what?”

“So call them.”

“Why? So you can put a bullet in them too?”

“If you don’t, I’ll put a bullet in you.”

“You should’ve done it last time. Too late now.”

“Really wanna do this here?” His brows raised. You glanced around, noting the mostly empty hall. The only other agents were ones you remembered seeing at that meeting. You were outnumbered and while you could likely handle the ordeal, a shoot out in the office wasn’t something you wanted to instigate with everything else you had going on. “You’re so paranoid, Aly. I’ll call him myself. Not like anyone’s gonna hurt him.” Dex smirked and began to back away.

“Dex.” You called out and he paused, allowing you to move closer. “Are you happy now? Ray’s dead. Seema and Sami are alone. Fisk is getting married. Daredevil’s image is shot… Is that what you wanted?”

He chuckled weakly and nodded. “I thought all this empathy crap was done.”

You gave a weak shrug. It wasn’t even an attempt to change his mind. It was just you being an asshole. “One last shot, I guess… Maybe you were right after all. You don’t love me, not anymore at least. You’re incapable of loving anyone, of feeling anything.”

“Careful, Livia. You’re getting predictable.” He tapped a finger under your chin and left.

You huffed a sigh and shot a quick text to Foggy, asking him to come to the bureau. You headed back to the main office and began busying yourself with some paperwork until your friend arrived.

A sharp whistle drew your attention and you looked up to see Dex waving you over. You got to his side as Foggy lifted his phone to take a picture, one you were just in time to smile for.

“Posted to my campaign webpage, and the tens of thousands of police officers that know that I’m here. With you. Helping.” Foggy said firmly and you tried to hide the proud smile.

“Relax, Mr. Nelson. You’re not in any danger.” Dex said lowly, a hand landing on your lower back that you almost jumped away from. “Agent Yersova even came to help put you at ease.”

You jammed an elbow into his ribs and he laughed slightly.

“Besides, you’ll be very useful when you’re the next district attorney.”

“Why am I here?” Foggy looked to you.

“Because you and Ray were friends.” Dex answered instead and you rolled your eyes.

“If you’re expecting him to answer questions, it’ll break privilege, even if the client’s dead.” You explained.

“I’m not asking him to.” It was Dex’s turn to roll his eyes. “Follow me.”

Dex led you and Foggy back to the room where you saw Seema waiting. You wanted to offer her a sincere apology, to comfort her and admit that it was your fault Ray was dead, but Hattley’s presence made you keep those thoughts to yourself.

“We’ll give you the room. Take all the time you need.” Hattley said after a brief exchange between Dex and Seema.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You managed and she looked at you with slight tears in her eyes. “Ray was a good man.”

Dex’s hand fit tightly to your elbow and he dragged you away. You all left Foggy with Seema and stepped back into the hall.

“Suck it up.” Dex sneered.

“I’m only doing this because I have to.” Hattley snapped back before the two split ways. You let out a sigh and headed back to your desk.

You decided you were going to leave again at lunch, figuring your time at that job was limited anyway so why be a good agent anymore. You had just dropped into your chair, a small cloud of blue proofing out as you did, when Dex grabbed your arm and hauled you away again. You sucked in a breath between gritted teeth and you knew there’d be a bruise there by the end of the day. When you two got to a secluded area, he pushed you against the wall and put his call on speaker. He held a hand against your mouth and your brows furrowed, though you showed no other reaction. You decided against fighting back, knowing it would be more trouble than it was worth.

Plus, you were intrigued.

“I’ve got some free time now. Why don’t we meet up?” Dex said, keeping eye contact with you while pressing that forearm against your chest near your throat as a threat.

“I have a question.” Matt’s voice came from the other side and your eyes went a bit wider. Dex offered a slight smirk as he caught your expression. “Did you enjoy the feeling you got when you killed those birdies? Is that why you’re still killing?”

“Birdies?”

“The ones you killed with rocks. I bet it felt good at first, right?”

“Stop.” You tried, your voice muffled from behind Dex’s hand and he pushed your head to bang against the wall.

“Then it’s never the same after that.”

You put one hand on his chest and the other on his wrist and tried to push Dex off. He growled slightly and pressed harder, causing you to release a small noise when the pressure hit your chest and then a sharp sensation erupted from your still healing stab wound.

“Who was that?” Matt asked suddenly.

“Your little girlfriend.” Dex taunted and you struggled against him, but he leaned into you with more of his body weight. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? ‘Specially when she’s helpless.”

“What do you think Dr. Mercer would say if she could see you now?” Matt continued and you sighed. You wondered if he was purposefully not showing a reaction or if it just didn’t bother him.

You leaned back into the wall and Dex noticed your shift away from him. Dex’s eyes darted between yours but you knew yours were empty. There was no feeling behind your eyes when you looked at Dex, and he recognized that. He recognized that you no longer saw him the same.

Slowly he leaned away but held a finger to his lips to gesture for you to keep quiet. Maybe it actually hurt him for you to give up on him.

Good.

“Got a second?” He spoke finally. “I need a tissue for all the tears I’m crying over my shitty childhood.”

“Have you heard from your friend Julie lately?”

“Что ты делаешь?” You whispered as your brows furrowed, trying to figure out Matt’s plan. You two had talked about bringing it up to Dex together so you could guarantee neither of you were at risk. Why do it now? (What are you doing?)

“You wanna talk to Dr. Mercer, asshole? Keep talking. Or I could send your girlfriend instead.”

“What do you think she’d say if she knew about the innocent people you killed?” Matt continued. “I bet she’d be disappointed, Dex.”

“If she was still alive.” You mumbled.

Dex’s attention snapped to you and a hand was quick to come around your throat to force you back against the wall. The air left your lungs while his hand gripped you tighter and you cursed Matt for starting problems.

“If you hurt Julie-“ He threatened lowly and lifted so your feet could barely reach the ground.

“I never touched her.” You choked out. “She was innocent.”

“Did he?”

“Fisk had her killed. He knew what she meant to you so he killed her, gave himself a chance to replace her as your North Star.” You answered quickly.

He was quiet for a moment while he took in your expression. When he believed you weren’t lying, he eased off.

“When he realized he couldn’t kill me, he went after her… She was an easy mark. I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do.” You added while rubbing your tender throat and he gave a slow nod.

“Don’t tell me that’s sympathy in your voice, Ex.” Matt said.

“Shut up.” You snapped quickly.

“Don’t feel bad for a guy who’s tried to kill us both, multiple times.”

“Shut. Up. It’s not about him.”

“You should stick to beating on people in alleys, cause you’re not gonna get in my head.” Dex said tightly, though you could feel something underlying in his words. It almost felt like.. grief.

Maybe there was something more than a flicker left in Dex. But that wouldn’t change anything. It couldn’t.

“You don’t have to believe us.. Then again, you may wanna ask how I got Manning’s phone.”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Dex answered sharply.

“Julie wouldn’t approve of your killing people, Dex.”

“Stop. Saying. Her name.” Dex practically growled. The familiar heart of his rage hit you. The soft spot he had for you may have faded away, but he’d always feel a certain way for Julie.

“You said you got some free time? You may wanna check out 16 Canal Place.”

“Why?”

The line cut out after that. Dex slowly turned to face you and your sidestepped carefully to ensure your back was no longer against the wall.

“What’s at Canal Place?” He asked tightly.

“Julie…” You answered quietly. Beneath the surface you were adding to the pressure of his anger, trying to break him. “I’m sorry, Dex. I know she was important to you.”

“What the hell is your deal?” He asked angrily and you took another step back. “What- What- What do you gain from all of this?”

“I had no part in this.” You countered firmly, forgetting about your game for a moment. “All of this-“ You gestured between you two. “-was done without me knowing.”

“Bullshit.” He scoffed.

“I wouldn’t taunt you with this. You know me better than that.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t believe me then.” You shrugged. “I don’t care anymore. I tried being nice, didn’t work. I tried being a bitch, kind of working. I tried empathy, didn’t work.” You pushed past him.

“Where are you going?” He called after you.

“Away from you.”

That night, you took a trip to Canal Place dressed in your latest, modified vigilante costume - compression shirt and vest. You still hadn’t patched your full suit and top. You arrived a few minutes ahead of Dex, but he wasn’t your point. You made your way to the roof and found Matt already there. You made sure to keep your distance, knowing you’d punch him in the teeth if you got too close.

“Wanna tell me what the hell that was on the phone?” You asked simply.

“I knew he wasn’t gonna hurt you.” Matt reasoned as he pulled the black mask off.

“That’s not the point. We were gonna do it together.”

“I needed to make sure.”

“Of what?”

“That you hadn’t gone soft.”

“So you play with my life?”

“C’mon, Livvy.” He scoffed. “He wasn’t gonna kill you.”

“The bruise around my neck says otherwise.” You countered angrily.

His body language shifted and you saw the flex of his hand. He ran a stressed hand over his mouth before he spoke again.

“You said it yourself. He loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“That’s not what-“

“Well I was wrong.” You cut in quickly.

“You’re never wrong about this stuff.”

“You think that excuses any of that?” You laughed and moved closer. “You think that excuses you pushing him when I’m the one that would’ve had to deal with the fallout?”

“You could’ve protected yourself if he tried anything.”

“So that’s it? You put me in the line of fire and taunt the most unstable man I’ve ever met, just because you can? Just because I can fight back.”

“Were you honestly afraid?” He asked carefully, head cocking in interest.

You thought about the interaction and didn’t remember feeling afraid. In fact, you felt completely in control without touching your abilities in that regard.

“He felt something.” You said instead. “When you talked about Julie… Grief.”

“So what?”

“So that means there might still be something worth saving in him. That used to be what you stood for, Matt. That chance used to be enough.”

“Oh come on.” He scoffed. “What happened to the woman that was ready to kill him?”

“And what happened to the man that didn’t wanna kill anyone? What happened to the altar boy that believed everyone could change, that just a small piece of goodness was enough for another chance? Where’s the man from that rooftop with Frank, who had a gun to his head, but still insisted on preaching about giving people a chance to change?”

“What do you want me to do, huh?” He asked loudly. “You want me to- to take the guy to therapy? Hold his hand and promise it’ll be okay? The guy’s psycho! And he’s dangerous.”

Your remark was cut off by a loud scream. A sound of pure agony that you almost swore was accompanied by the sharp sound of a snap and a shaky wave of heat. It was an uneven, broken feeling that had bits of cold air weaved in between. It was as if the anger was cracking and the sadness was patching the gaps.

You turned to face Matt again but he was already holding a ringing phone in front of him. You took a few steps closer.

“When I find you…” Dex threatened lowly.

“Like we said, Fisk killed her and we all know it.” Matt countered smoothly.

“Think about it, Dex.” You added on. “Who got Julie the job in the hotel, right after the detail starts? Who started following you? It’s all been Fisk.”

“You let him turn you into a murderer!” Matt kept going. You knew you should stop him, that he was pushing too hard. You started to feel a bit of regret for what you had to do to Dex, but you also knew you needed him to turn against Fisk.

Besides, you didn’t owe him anything anymore.

“He wasn’t gonna let someone like Julie get in the way of that.” You offered, gentler than the venom Matt spoke with. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Dex asked lamely, as if everything he had - everything that mattered - was gone. And for him, maybe it was.

“Aw, Dex..” You said quietly, more to yourself than either of the boys. Matt scoffed lightly and stepped away, adding a comment about Fisk and the wedding before ending the call.

“You can’t tell me that you really care about him still.” Matt said angrily. “After everything he’s done to us.”

“I’m allowed to feel bad for ruining a man’s entire mental state just to take down a different man.” You answered sarcastically. “Regardless if I care about him or not.”

“You didn’t ruin that guy. There was hardly anything to ruin.”

“There used to be..”

“Who’s side are you on, Livia? Because you can’t have everything.”

“No, but I can remember the guy he was before. Matt, he helped save my life, kept me from bleeding out on the way to the hospital.”

“That makes up for everything. Why didn’t you mention it sooner?” He offered sarcastically.

“Why are you so bitter?” You shouted. “You have everyone back and it’s still not enough.”

He simply shook his head.

“Why are you so hell bent on destroying him?”

“He killed Father Lantom!” Matt screamed, new anger rolling off him. “But that doesn’t matter, right? Because he lost someone too.”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I cared about Lantom, too.”

“Not like I did.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that, but-“

“But nothing. Just because you slept with him doesn’t make him worth anything.”

“Say that again.” You said lowly, your head tilting with a slight challenge. Your muscles tightened and your hands flexed as you crossed your arms to wake the devices around your wrists. “I dare you.”

He sighed heavily and lifted his hands in surrender.

“Y’know, you’re making it so hard to want to help you. And at this point, I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose or if you are just that pathetic now.”

“I’m pathetic… Okay.” He mumbled with a scoff before turning away from you.

“I may be a bitch and I may be a killer, but at least I don’t willingly treat people that love me like shit. At least I feel bad when I’ve hurt someone I used to care about… But I guess you just don’t care anymore, right? You left your conscience under Midland, right?”

“You know that’s not true.” He sighed, almost visibly deflating. “I’m doing this because I-“

“Don’t give me that shit.” You cut in firmly, taking quick strides to stand in front of him. “I’m so goddamn tired of that excuse from you, Matt.” Your finger jammed into his chest. “You’re not protecting anyone by being an asshole.. All you’re doing is becoming exactly what you want to protect this city from. You’re becoming what Exodus used to be. Now I look like the soft one. The weak one.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to! Jesus Christ, how many times do we have to have this same conversation before it gets through your head?” You tapped his temple quickly before pushing his head away.

“I understand that we’re different now. I never said we could go back to what we were. You’re the one who said you can’t have both.”

“I never said that.”

“In the van with Ray. You said that you had to give up certain people and you looked right at me.”

“For the love of..” You muttered before a disbelieving laugh. “I wasn’t saying that I wanted to give you up. I meant that you gave us up. You won’t let yourself have it both ways.”

“Right, because you’re not one to self-sabotage to try torture yourself? You- You don’t ruin anything good in your life to try and make up for all the bad shit you’ve done?”

You stood in silence for a moment, mouth opening to defend yourself but your voice keeping quiet. You wanted to talk back, to tell him that he was an idiot. You wanted to scold him for not truly understanding why you had done everything you had, why you had sabotaged so many relationships in the past. But that was what he wanted. He wanted to keep egging you on that way, maybe you’d be pissed off enough to be like the old you. The one who was so angry with the way the world was that you were going to kill anyone you thought would fix it. And as tempting as it was, as justified as you felt your anger would be, someone needed to keep a level head.

But also, it wasn’t for his sake. It was Ray’s voice lingering in the back of your mind, serving as the safety on your otherwise unrelenting trigger finger.

Just do this the right way, alright?

“Whatever. Think what you want about me.” You shrugged and your devices disarmed. He must’ve heard the current shut off because his brows raised with interest. “I’m gonna go patch my suit and head to the Presidential. If I see you, you better have your goddamn head on straight.”

“Держись подальше от меня сегодня вечером.” He said simply, causing a small scoff from your chest. (Stay out my way tonight.)

“Забавно. Я собирался сказать тебе то же самое.” (Funny. I was going to tell you the same thing.)

You headed home after that, ignoring whatever snarky comment he made when you turned your back. You got home quickly and pulled your suit from the closet. It was the first time you had seen it since the attack on the church. The blood was still soaked into the fabric, the gaping hole in the center. It brought you back to that night and the scar on your stomach burned.

You pushed through it and gave it a thorough wash before repairing the damage, not perfectly but enough to get through the night. You fit it in place and zipped the familiar top over it. As you were sliding your gloves on, you found the small insignias you had carved into the forearm plates. A small skull and two overlapping D’s.

Matt and Frank, Punisher and Daredevil. The two men that were able to sneak through your guards and understand who you were. The two men who knew what you stood for and stood beside you.

The two most important people left in your life.

You fit the rest of your equipment on; boots, Bites, belt, staff pack, and mask. You thought a lot on your way to the hotel. You thought about your relationships with Dex and Matt.

There was no way to repair the damage between you and Dex. You wouldn’t be friends or anything romantic when the night ended. The latter you could deal with, but losing the former was a bit of a bummer. Dex was damaged and your influence probably made it worse. You had a hand in breaking whatever structure and balance Dex had. You used him as a pawn in your game with Fisk and he was ultimately the one to suffer.

You and Matt had been back and forth since he came back. One night he’s begging you to stay and the next he tries to make you the bad guy for being human - for being exactly what he wanted you to be when you had first met. Despite that, despite his uncharacteristic bloodlust as of late, you couldn’t turn your back on him.

You still loved him, after all.

You moved through the parking garage with ease. You came across an abandoned SUV and when you went to check it, you instantly regretted it. In the passenger seat sat Julie’s frozen corpse.

“We really did it this time, didn’t we?” You mumbled to yourself before you heard the groans of the nearby agent on the ground. You moved to his side and grabbed his face to turn him towards you.

“Where’d he go?” You asked firmly, to which he continued his pained sounds. “Where is Poindexter?” You urged again.

He pointed weakly towards the door to the stairwell so you left him on the floor and began your climb. As you climbed, you called Matt.

But he didn’t answer.

You tapped your mask to track the microphone you had left him with and saw he was already a few levels ahead of you. You blew out a sigh and decided to call Foggy instead.

“Hey.” He said with a relieved sigh. “Please tell me-“

“He’s already here.. They both are.” You cut in as you leaned over the bar to angle a shot for your wire towards one of the higher railings. “I’m on my way to them.”

“You have to stop him, Ex.”

You smiled to yourself as your wire looped around the metal. You climbed over and began a quicker ascend.

“Well I’ve tried that, a lot, and it’s not working.” You said simply, mentally counting off floors as you passed. “We need to try something different.”

“Like what?”

“Like a bluff.”

“A bluff?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay… I’m not following.”

“Clearly.” You mumbled as you swung your feet over the final railing. “What I’m saying is what if I stay out of his way.”

“You wanna let him do it?”

“You really think he will?” You asked simply as you unwrapped and tucked away your wire.

“Right now, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“The guy we know is still in there.. I know it sounds crazy but it’ll work. He wouldn’t know whether I mean it or not. He can’t read me the way he reads everyone else. I don’t let him.”

He was quiet for a moment, likely getting Karen’s opinion.

“But what if it doesn’t work? What if.. we lose him forever?” 

“You gotta trust me.”

“I do but… Is it worth the risk of losing him?”

“I get it. But I don’t see any other option. He has to see for himself that he’s too good to do it.”

“If he can’t, are you going to?”

“Not unless I have to.”

“Will you stop him?”

“I don’t know.”

You ended the call, not allowing any other argument from Foggy. Instead, you pushed into the hall and practically sprinted to the ceremony. As you were coming up on the doors, your implant picked up on Ray’s voice. You didn’t know what it was, some sort of deathbed confession maybe, but it made your chest tight.

As you moved, you passed agent after agent on the ground. Labored breathing or groans of pain came from the bodies and you were moderately relieved that they weren’t dead. At least he had some restraint left, whichever one did all of it.

“I’d like to make a toast.” Dex said shakily from the stage as you entered the ballroom. “Julie and I wish you the absolute best.”

Dex pulled back to throw the microphone so you sprung into action. A serving tray came flying in front of Fisk and the microphone bounced off as you were passing by. Dex looked between you and who you assumed was Matt. You noticed his attention on something behind you and you turned just in time to see the agents lift their guns.

You dropped to the floor and ducked behind one of the tables. When the shots faltered you came out and hopped the table. With both hands on the surface, you kicked out and sent one agent falling into the one behind him. You took a disc from your belt and tossed it, highly charged bolts shooting out of the small device at the two agents. They fell with tight convulsions before Dex threw silverware that landed in their necks.

Matt took off and you were quick to follow him, leaving Dex and the remaining agents in the ballroom. The gunshots echoed throughout the halls as you ran and it sent a chill down your spine.

You noticed the annoyed shake of Matt’s head but you said nothing. You followed him up to the room that covered Fisk’s control center.

He burst in first with you close behind. He acted quickly and threw one of the men towards you. You reacted instantly and pulled a staff. You had to duck his flailing arms so you swung the weapon to knock his legs from under him. Once the agent fell to his back, you slammed the weapon against his temple. You flicked out the blade and moved at the agent Matt threw to the sofa.

Acting quickly, you slammed the blade through his shoulder and pin him to the furniture while you woke your Bites. Aiming one at the man beside you and one over Matt’s shoulder, you fired both and the men fell limp.

As Matt spoke to the woman, you recollected your weapon and placed it back in the pack.

“Подожди.” You called as Matt was headed to the stairs. (Wait.)

“Don’t try to stop me either, Ex.” He said tightly.

“Я не собирался.” You offered but he turned away from you. You groaned and moved forward, grabbing his arm to force him to stay put. “Я просто хотел сказать, что я с тобой... Что бы ты ни решил сделать.” (I wasn’t going to. I just wanted to say that I’m with you… Whatever you decide to do.)

“Правда?” He asked carefully, a hand handing on your arm and his fingers landing between the plates. “И если я действительно убью его?” (Really? And if I actually kill him?)

You gave a small smile as your other hand landed on his chest, right over his heart. You heard the door close as the woman ran off.

“Whatever you decide.” You said honestly.

He offered a small smirk before taking his hand off your arm and moving it to your neck. Before you could voice a question, his opposite hand slid the zipper down a few inches so the fingers on your neck could move under the collar of your suit.

“Tell me one more time.” He said lowly and for just a second, it was like old times. “Just to be sure.”

With a small smile, you let your meticulous control drop. For the first time in months, you were completely vulnerable. Every emotion, every physiological reaction, every tell you could possibly have, it was all on the table for Matt to read. And he knew it.

“I’m on your side, Matty. No matter what.” You said truthfully. And you knew the night would end in a way that favored you and your friends.

He gave a small smile and let out a sigh of relief. His hand went to the back of your neck and he pulled you closer. The other arm looped around your waist and your arms came loosely around him.

You fixed your mental guards and allowed a moment to survey what Matt was feeling. There was tension in his muscles, likely anticipatory for what was to come once you entered that suite. He was determined but also worried. There was an underlying excitement, the subtle type he always seemed to get before a fight. There was also a hint of confusion.

That was what you were looking for. Something to pull to the surface that could interfere with his initial plans.

Slipping a mental hook into that feeling, you pulled away and tapped his arm to follow you. You moved up the stairs and zipped your shirt the rest of the way up. When you hit the door to the suite, you woke your Bites and gripped one of your blades tightly. Matt’s hand landed on your lower back and when you turned to him, he gave you a quick nod.

You took a steadying breath before opening the door and walking in, ensuring your head was high as Matt followed behind you. As you entered the hall, Fisk and Vanessa came from the other end.

The tension in the air grew thicker with every breath. Fisk’s eyes went wide for a minute, flicking to the gleaming blade in your hand and the ominous red glow of your favored devices. Vanessa swallowed hard and took a fearful step back to try and hide behind her new husband.

“It’s over.” Matt said lowly, the familiar gravelly voice of the Devil coming through.

“Run.” Fisk said to Vanessa, pushing her back the way they came.

“This ends.” You warned with words tinted in your accent.

Fisk snarled slightly before bracing himself. Matt shifted beside you and your stance widened while you shifted your weight to your toes. They screamed at each other before they charged, Matt slamming into Fisk with enough force for them both to crash into something in the bedroom. You hurried in the same direction and caught Vanessa trying to race down the stairs.

You wouldn’t kill her, only sparing her life to fulfill your promise to Ray, but you’d have some fun in the meantime.

You flung your knife and watched the tip bury itself in her dress and pin it to the floor. As you were coming around the ledge, Matt and Fisk crashed through the wall. You were going to intervene but Matt fought back so you turned back to Vanessa.

You gripped the railings on either side and kicked both feet into her side. The sharp rip of fabric sounded as she tumbled down the stairs with loud exclamations. You recollected your blade and hopped the railing to follow her just as Matt sent Fisk tumbling the same way.

You landed in time to see Vanessa backing away from the door, a familiar bitter taste settling in your tongue. You spit on the floor in an effort to clear it but it lingered as you saw Dex enter the room.

You groaned inwardly as your small crowd seemed to freeze at his appearance. When it seemed no one else would move, you did. You moved around the table to put yourself in front of the bride.

As you rounded the table, you placed a hand on the ledge to allow you room to spin your legs and connect both feet with Dex’s jaw. He reached angrily for you but you threw yourself backwards. From the far end of the table, you saw Matt land from the upper level and move in against Dex.

You slid off the table and dropped to a low crouch. You snuck beside Vanessa and kicked her legs from underneath her. You pinned a knee against her chest and aimed one of your devices. You angled for a well-placed shot that would hurt but not kill her, only to be thrown off by Matt’s off balance body.

You groaned in annoyance and shoved your partner off you. In your own lull of action, you heard Fisk and Dex going at it from the other end of the room. You paused for a second to watch, only to realize that your former partner had little to no defense against Fisk. The best he could do was evade and try to put distance and gain an advantage.

He was sloppy, uncaring even. He wasn’t just broken. He has completely fallen apart.

You looked between a still fallen Vanessa and the quick paced fight ahead and decided on something more exciting. When Fisk threw Dex against the stairs, you inserted yourself.

You grabbed both staffs before getting to the side of Fisk. You stepped up the railing and reached around his neck to cross both sticks. You quickly moved your feet to be on the back end of the plexiglass and extended the limbs, holding tight with your staffs to pull the man off Dex. His ragged coughs drew an old, sadistic smile from you and the manic daze you knew all too well began to cloud your mind.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Dex stand and attempt to charge at you and Fisk. With a quick move, you jumped the railing and dug an elbow into Fisk’s spine for stability. When Dex was close enough, you slammed both feet into his chest. The impact sent him stumbling through the glass behind him and you were pushed the other direction.

When you hit the ground, you released the cross of your staffs and snuck between Fisk’s legs. You hooked a stick around either ankle and pulled forward as you slid your other leg through so you would spin to face him as he fell to his back. One staff was returned to the pack as you flicked out the long blade of the other.

“Ты больше никому не обидишь” You said simply and you placed a foot on his stomach. (You’ll never hurt anyone else again.)

You gripped your weapon with both hands and lifted it high above your head, the tip of the blade on a direct path to his chest. You let out a loud scream, one born out of pent up rage and pain that seemed to add heat to the blade in your hand, while you began to drive the knife down.

As your blade was mere inches from penetrating, you were slammed into from your side. The collision sent you rolling and your staff clattered from your hands. You heard the commotion continue and you pushed yourself to your elbows to see Fisk and Matt back in a fight, Matt getting body slammed through the table.

For a second, you hoped it would knock some sense into him. But that thought was shortly entertained because you were yanked to your feet by your hair.

You were spun roughly and a hand fit your throat, backing you up until you hit the wall. You let out a manic laugh when you saw it was Dex.

“Was it worth it?” You sneered. “Killing Julie.”

“I didn’t kill her.” He nearly screamed in your face before slamming you back again.

“But you did.” You nodded fervently. “If you didn’t try to make her love you-“

His free hand collided with the brick near your head and you acted quickly.

You grabbed the wrist around your throat and braced a foot at the bend of his hip. Your thumb dug into the space between bones at his wrist and he winced as his grip faltered. You stepped up using his own leg as leverage and hooked the other leg around his shoulder. You balled one fist in the suit material of the base of his neck and pulled to reveal enough skin that you could wedge you let Bite against. You fired the device and he yelled loudly while his hands gripped the back of your knees.

He slammed your body into the hard brick wall and you coughed roughly as the impact sent a jolt through the old fracture in your ribs. He pulled back to slam you again but you pulled the foot you had against his leg to flatten against the wall and change the angle of your body.

You slid your hands to grip the suit before kicking off and throwing yourself to the floor while Dex landed beside you. You quickly knelt on top of Dex and landed heavy hits to his face, forcing head to bounce off the ground. One of his hands were flailing to find something to use as a weapon and before you could block, he found your other staff and swung it at your jaw. You fell off and got to your hands and knees before he threw your staff at the glass chandelier above where Matt and Fisk were fighting.

Matt was quick to get out of the way, which left Fisk vulnerable to Dex’s barrage of attacks. You hurried over to the wreckage and recollected your staff before you decided what to do next. Dex’s focus shifted to Matt, which allowed you to go after Fisk. You turned to find him and saw him give Vanessa his jacket, a product of Melvin’s handiwork you assumed.

She met your eyes in a panic as you jumped the couch and began your assault. You alternated your hits, switching hands and angles. You mixed in body shots and elbows and knees. Vanessa’s hand landed on your shoulder and you reacted almost instantly.

You grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm outwards. You hooked a foot behind her ankle and slammed your other arm against her chest to knock her to the floor. She coughed heavily from the impact and you reached down for your knife. You smiled as you pressed the tip against the underside of her chin.

“You had Ray killed.” You spoke lowly, a heavy venom dripping from your accented words. “I should kill you for it.”

“But you won’t?” She managed, jerking under your weight in a desperate attempt to get you off of her.

“I do enjoy revenge.” Your head tilted as you pierced the skin slightly and you watched the steady stream of blood across her skin. “But using you to torture him is much more fun.”

You heard Fisk’s heavy footsteps behind you so you moved quickly. You quickly jumped to your feet and dragged Vanessa up with you, locking an arm around her throat while other held the tip of the knife against her sternum,

“Let her go, Alivia.” Fisk said carefully, hands out in front as if to soothe a wild animal. “She’s done nothing.”

“You consider Rahul Nadeem nothing?” You spoke sharply, pressing the knife a bit harder to hear a sharp gasp from Vanessa. “What do you say, hmm? A life for a life.”

“You don’t trade lives!”

“Исход делает.” You shrugged. (Exodus does.)

The loud shatter of glass beside you stole your attention for a second, but it was all Fisk needed. He yanked your hand away from his wife’s chest and pushed her away. With a tight grip on your wrist, he bent it back to point your own knife back at you. He backed you against the wall and you had to use your other hand to keep your own weapon away. His fingers locked around your own, not allowing you to drop your blade.

With a sly smile, you allowed your powers to reach out to the boys that came crashing through the window moments ago. You found that soft spot they both had for you, one was much easier to find than the other, and you yanked it to the surface. You projected a fear, a helplessness, while refusing to break eye contact with Fisk,

“You have no power here.” You said quietly as you heard the glass shifting. “You’ll lose.”

“Not until I’ve buried you.” He spoke roughly, pushing the knife again and you felt the tip poking through your suit and into your shoulder.

“I’m not afraid to die.”

You let your other hand drop and the knife pierced your shoulder completely with a sharp cry of pain. At the same time, two glass shards came flying in and punctured his abdomen. You offered a salute to Dex as a way of thanking him before Matt began an offense against him again. You turned back to Fisk as he pulled the bloody glass out.

You made a small noise of interest as you moved in, momentarily forgetting about the knife in you. You threw a sharp kick at the open wound and he cried out. You laughed slightly and kicked again. And again.

You reached forward and pressed your knuckles against the wound and watched the blood spurt across your hand. You pulled back and grabbed the man by his face, the other grabbing his shirtfront, and slammed him to the ground.

“You’re pathetic.” You sneered. “You’re nothing without your toys.”

You saw Dex fall from the corner of your eye and when you glanced, you saw him already locked in on Vanessa. You groaned to yourself and pushed off Fisk, hurrying up the stairs to yank Vanessa out of the way. The ceramic ashtray flew by your heads and shattered against the wall. You gripped Vanessa by her throat and threw her back against the plexiglass, leaning a knee into her chest to pin her down.

You turned back to the fight in time to see Fisk slam Dex into the corner of the brick. Your pressure on Vanessa eased slightly as something dropped heavy into the pit of your stomach. You shifted the glow to your Bites to blue and slid your knee over to allow a clearer shot to her chest.

Once Matt and Fisk found each other again, you hopped down the stairs and knelt on Dex’s chest. Your other foot pressed on his shoulder as you drew your gun. You pressed the barrel under his chin and he gasped for air beneath you.

Something was wrong. You knew it immediately, before you even got close to Dex. As your weight was bearing down on him, you were tense as you waited for a response. You waited for him to try and throw you off, to pull a knife or a gun of his own. You expected him to toss you around like a rag doll, only for you to come back at him relentlessly. But he did nothing…

“Fight back.” You demanded softly, your voice seemingly gone.

“Li- Livia.” He choked out.

The cold seemed to radiate from his chest and stick to the fabric pressed against him. There was regret, likely stemming from whatever injury the impact caused, and sadness. He truly had nothing and he finally understood that, laying on the ground with his former partner pressing a gun to his head.

“Dammit, Poindexter. Fight. Back”. You pressed the gun harder.

“Can’t.” He managed weakly.

You stood slowly, keeping a foot on his wrist and your gun aimed while the other hand hit your mask’s side button. You glanced over his body and saw the complete shatter of his vertebrae.

“You owe whatever pathetic life you have left to Ray… I won't offer this mercy again.” You said simply.

“Stop it, please!” Vanessa shouted desperately.

You turned quickly and saw Matt had Fisk on his knees and was pounding on him. You turned the aim of your gun on Vanessa and moved to stand beside Matt. Despite looking away from the woman, your gun stayed up as you faced Matt and yanked your blade from your shoulder.

His hands were positioned to finish it, to snap Fisk’s neck. You found yourself frozen in place as you waited for what he would do next. Part of you, the part manufactured from the Red Room, wanted to see him do it. You wanted to corrupt the Devil, to bloody his hands in a way he’d never clear.

But the more important part, the part you thought you had lost a long time ago, knew you didn’t want to see him do it. Seeing him do it would make it too real and it would change the way he saw himself and the way you would see him. The things that made him Matt Murdock would break if he did it.

Yet you did nothing. Not until he screamed. A sound of pure rage and agony that was paired with a blast of searing heat. Matt fell to his knees at your feet, reaching for your hand. But before he could take it, Fisk’s words drew your action.

“I will never stop hunting Karen Page or Foggy Nelson.” He warned, though there was defeat in his words.

You moved to stand in front of him and placed the gun against his forehead. He simply glared up at you, covered in his own blood. “I will tell the world who both of you really are.”

“I don’t care about the world.” You spat back, pressing your knee against his chest to knock him into the wall. You leaned your weight down and he coughed as the bony part of your leg dug into his sternum. “It has taken enough from me… You don’t get to do that anymore.”

“Wilson.” Vanessa tried from the other end of the room.

“Vanessa, please go. Please!” He shouted around you.

You turned quickly and fired a shot at Vanessa’s feet, to which she jumped back and screamed. You pressed the now hot barrel back to its prior position as Matt got to his feet.

“You.. You want us to kill you.” Matt realized through heavy breaths. 

“No prison can keep me.” Fisk taunted and you had to grind your teeth. “You know that… Come on, kill me! Isn’t that what you always wanted, Exodus?”

Your trigger finger itched but Matt spoke before you could act.

“No!” Matt yelled in response. You made a face to yourself and knew you should pull the gun back you didn’t, not even when Matt came to your side to yell at Fisk. “God knows I want to, but you don’t get to destroy who I am.”

You almost smiled in relief, but the thump of worry lived in the back of your mind. You could feel Vanessa’s concern for Fisk, her worry that he would die in front of her. Her helplessness plagued you like a magnet to metal and for a moment, you remembered when you felt the same way.

When Luke dragged you to the elevator without Matt. When Fisk said Matt’s name in front of other agents.

“You will go back to prison and you will live the rest of your miserable life in a cage, knowing you’ll never have Vanessa. That this city rejected you, it beat you. We beat you!” Matt demanded and you were proud he found a way back to himself.

“You will keep our secrets.” You spoke simply, putting your gun away to yank the man to the ground. You flicked one of your shock discs at him and pressed a foot against his broad chest. You leaned into your foot and twisted to ensure the small circle engaged and he groaned loudly as you heard the electricity crackle while you leaned the entirety of your weight against him. Matt knelt beside you and lifted his mask before he spoke.

“And you won’t harm Karen Page or Foggy Nelson or anyone else.”

“If you try it, I will go after your wife. And I will prove that she ordered the murder of Agent Rahul Nadeem. And if she’s lucky, she’ll spend the rest of her life in a cell, same as her miserable excuse of a husband.”

You stepped off his chest and tapped Matt’s arm before taking a few steps away. Matt replaced his mask and came to your side as Vanessa inched closer, her uncertainty coming off in shaky waves.

“Thank you.” She said shakily, reaching for your hand.

“I didn’t do it for either of you.” You said sharply. “And I will not extend this mercy again, to any of you.”

She nodded quietly before moving away, leaving you to stand beside an unsteady Matt. His hands were on his head and he was radiating anger. He was mad at himself for not being able to go through with it, but he was also glad that he didn’t. He understood what the consequences would’ve been and he knew that keeping that part of himself was more important than revenge.

“You’re okay.” You said gently to your partner, a hand landing on his shoulder. “I knew you’d do the right thing.”

“What if I didn’t?” He said weakly.

“We’re still in it together, Devil.” You shrugged. “Anyone comes after you, they come after me.”

“If I agree to your demands, you leave my wife alone.” Fisk countered, now kneeling beside Vanessa.

“You misunderstood me.” You warned. “There is no agreement. You have no leverage.”

“You leave Vanessa free!”

“You didn’t care about taking a father from a ten year old boy!” You shouted angrily, the sound of the bullet firing on Ray replaying in your head. Your anger burned down your spine and across your skin until it swelled in your palms, searing through the wound on your shoulder. “You took a husband away from his wife! Why should yours be free?”

“I was protecting the man I love.” Vanessa countered with false confidence, despite the darting eyes and trembling hands. “Could you tell me you don’t do the same?” She nodded to Matt though her eyes remained on you.

“I owe you people nothing. If it were up to me, you’d both be a puddle of your own blood right now.” You spat. “But I promised Ray I would do this the right way, and I promised the Devil I’d let him decide.”

Matt stepped forward and held a hand out to Fisk.

“If you keep your word.” He said simply.

Reluctantly, Fisk shook Matt’s hand. 

“Then it’s a deal.” He spoke bitterly, moments before the heavy banging came from the door.

“We should go.” You grabbed Matt’s arm lightly.

He nodded quietly before taking your hand. You two hurried up the stairs to the upper level and paused to see Brett enter with his team. You watched as they unmasked Dex and you weren’t fully listening to the words they were saying. You were distracted by the pained look on Dex’s face, what looked like tears in his eyes.

“Я оплакываю своего друга, который умер, когда ты надел этот костюм…” You said quietly, more to yourself than anything but you knew Matt heard. “Человек, которого я вижу сейчас, ничто.” (I mourn my friend, who died when you put on that suit… The man I see now is nothing.)

Matt grabbed your hand without a word and led you out the same way you two came in, avoiding cops until you made it to the rooftop. Through your lenses, you saw Fisk being shoved into the car and Foggy and Karen out in the courtyard.

You let out a small chuckle of relief when you could finally accept that you had won.

You, with Matt and Ray’s help, beat Wilson Fisk.

Again.

[kisses4kaia]

BABE WE NEED MORE ETHAN CONTENT MORE WHINY AND NEEDY SHIT

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE !! send ethan reqs u guys i’m dying over here😫🙏

(separate a/n: i'm back! i know you guys probably missed me soooo much but i missed u all so so so much more. so happy to be back. ❤)

smarty🍪- e, landry ,,

"please," he's given up, his voice was a quiet, defeated plead. you were sat on his aching cock, riding him to oblivion.

he begged permission to utilize his hands, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists to restrain himself. they were tight at his sides, sheets in between his fingers.

"oh honey, you've been so good," you slow the rolling of your hips until you can look into his sepia-toned eyes. his pupils were blown and his eyes were glossy with tears.

he whimpered at the compliment, and also with frustration due to your lack of movement.

he looked so sad, it genuinely sent a pang to your heart. finally, you nodded. "go ahead, sweetheart." you allowed permission for his hands to land on your hips.

only, he didn't get that message. his hands flew to your hips and flipped the both of you over. the swift movement left you winded as ethan pounded into you repeatedly.

you wanted to tell him to slow down, but it felt so good that you weren't even sure if that was what you wanted.

"come on, i'm almost there. am i making you feel good, momma?" you nodded rapidly. "so, so good, e. so good, don't stop," you breathed out through your moans.

he laughed humorlessly before saying with each thrust, "over. my. dead. body,"

all your senses were so overwhelmed with pleasure that you couldn't hold your orgasm back any longer. the white-hot sensation crashed over you like an ocean tide. you couldn't even recall the moment with how pumped with adrenaline you were.

and from the way ethan's eyebrows furrowed and the way his teeth grinded against each other, you could tell he was close, too.

"c'mon, pretty boy. come inside me, it'd make me so proud," and with just those short phrases, a guttural moan tore from his vocal cords as he came long white ropes into you.

ethan slowly pulled out, watching his coated dick slip out of your cunt ever so easily. he could've come again right there.

when he flopped down next to you, finally getting a real opportunity to catch his breath, you turned onto your side to face him, a thoughtful expression on your face.

"again?"

at first his face read 'you have got to be kidding me', but quickly twisted into a smile before he spoke.

"obviously."

tags; @themostintellectualblonde @dreamtofus @wannabe-indie-sleaze @insanelycrazyanddelusional

[madmarchhare]

Company Chapter 4: sci-fi story

Here is the latest chapter of Company! The first of the New year!

I hope you all like it, it was fun to right, though I am worried I didn't properly describe Las Paz station. This one gets a bit violent so be aware.

Also please leave comments, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

IV

He got up to re-set the grid after about ten minutes, the monitors mostly coming back to life as soon as he did, though a few needed some specific attention to fix. The pipes needed longer, Wick having to power on a few electric radiators he built near the pipes for to thaw them. Cass was going around the ship, having pulled on a wool lined jacket on over herself, replacing the lightbulbs that had blew and picking up the shattered glass. It was worst in the engine room, a narrow space just under two shoulder width wide that the fuel pipes ended in, along with a wrist thick bunch of cables responsible for the problem. A few wires slit off the bunches to power the lights and panels in the room, and the high voltage of the wires had caused the lights to burst. Luckily the fuse boxes in the panels had saved them. Cass replaced the bar lights, slotting them into the spring loaded fixtures and replacing the fuses. She turned around, about to make her way out but then bashed her shit on a sharp metal box jutting out from the wall.

“Fuck!” she shouted, hunching over slightly, only just not dropping the box of bulbs, wincing as she clenched her shin with her free hand. She looked down at what had wounded her and saw that the thing had flopped open from the force revealing a wheel like frame with empty holes bar for two eight inch long pink rods that were about as thick as a cigar in two of the loops. She looked at it confused for a second then closed what she presumed was the lid and squeezed her way back through the door. She made her way back to the hold to put back box, giving a proud but wary glance to the pipe as she went past, the panel already back over the damaged section. Wick would need to replace that soon. Granted, what didn’t he need to replace? Cass though to herself.

As she descended the steps to the hold she felt the ship shudder forward then continue on at a steadily increasing pace. When she came back up to the living room she saw Wick fiddling with a fuse box near the cockpit door, his usual tired look on his face as he checked through the switches. “Hey Wick, what is that little box thing in the engine room. You know with the pink rods in it?” Cass asked, sliding into a chair.

“Oh those,” Wick mumbled back as he looked deeply into the fuse box, “they’re solid rockets for the RCS,” pulling his face out of the box as he closed it to turn to Cass. “There are a few of them dotted around the ship,” making a wide gesture with one arm as he spoke, walking over to the fridge.

“Wait, solid rockets? Don’t you need liquid ones? So you can control them?” Cass asked, looking at Wick with a concerned expression as the latter went over to the fridge and pulled out a sausage roll.

“The ones I use are eclectic solid propellants, so I can control when they burn with electricity. So I just made a system that works like a mechanical pencil to push them past a ring filled with current and it works fine. They are way cheaper than the liquid fuel RCS everyone else uses, I just buy rods of the stuff or a big block and cut it up,” he droned back, a note of pride buried within his pragmatism as he took a bite of his snack as he leant back on the counter.

Cass blinked at him, not quite sure how to respond, so just nodded slowly. “Right, well, the metal ring thing was nearly out of those rods in any case,” jerking a thumb back in the direction of the engines. Wick turned his head in the direction she gestured, his brows pressing together slightly.

“Yeah, I’ll need to try and buy some from this next station. I’m running low,” he replied scratching his neck with one hand  as he flopped down into the chair. Cass mumbled out and agreement as she slumped out over the table, staring up at a set of poles that were moving about in the ceiling with a few mechanical clicks.

“I’m bored,” Cass blurted out staring at the wall, Wick turning to her with a blank expression.

“Play a game then,” Wick replied brusquely, taking another bite of his sausage roll as he finished.

“I don’t want to,” she replied simply.

“Then read a book or some manga,” he replied patiently.

“What would you recommend?”

“Well, for books there are few, like the detective Varg series, something from Tolkien or Terry Pratchett. Something by Issac Asimov?” Wick replied, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling as he tried to think of something to offer to the bored Neidr, who wore and indecisive expression in response.

“What about the manga?” she said in response, resting her chin on the table as she cocked her head to look up to Wick.

“Well, there’s Mashle, which is quite good, Samurai 8, My Hero Academia and Vigilantes among others…” Wick listed trailing off as he counted out the recommendations on his fingers. Cass seemed to mull the decision over, shifting her jaw as she considered it.

“I’ll read Mashle then,” she declared firmly, sitting back up in her chair. Wick nodded and walked off to collect them. Cass waited by herself in the living room for a few minutes, taking out swing top bottle of water from the fridge and pouring the cold liquid down her throat with a pleasant sigh. Wick came in just as she sat back down carrying a trio manga books in one hand as he read from a green pocket sized book in his other hand, placing the stack in front of Cass, a small debit card sized scrap of card on top intended as a bookmark.

“There you are,” he mumbled to her as he flopped down onto one of the sofas, turning the page of his book as he did.

“Thank you,” she replied in a sing song tone, opening the first volume with as she smiled, “what are you reading by the way?” she asked idly, Wick turning an eye over to her then to the cover of his book.

“’The Cossacks’, by Tolstoy. It’s good,” he replied matter-o-factly as they both set themselves to their reading.

They whittled away at the desolate time until the station, playing card, reading, playing games or doing maintenance inside the ship, Wick correcting his spreadsheet in his office to take account of some of the damages.  Then the ship slowed to a halt with the usual alarm that signalled the course had been executed. Wick went into the cockpit to steer the sip closer, the view of the station coming fully into view. Las Paz station was colossal structure, far larger than St Edmund, made of a large cylindrical shaft surrounded by a large ring that as long as the central cylinder, covered in solar panels that glinted in the light, large sectors painted a ruby red colour. Small ships buzzed around the station, dashing in and out of various bays, illuminated by the slowly rotating lights of the station. As he brought the ship closer Cass came through to the cockpit, standing just behind him.

“The best place is on the 20th level, the docking bay’s there,” she stated, pointing to the right side of the station. Wick nodded and moved closer too it, occasionally glancing over to the various workers out on the stations exterior, seemingly scraping ice or dust off the solar panels and repainting the red sections of the station, or more notable the white sign above the docking bay he was heading too. The suited man turned around to look at them as they approached, gripping onto the hand rail with one hand as he held his brush in the other as the doors below him split open, white hot light pouring out from them. Wick pulled the ship into the dock, landing in an open space. The dock was a grand expanse, twice or more the size of St. Edmunds dock, with grand steel pillars that crested over the ceiling, wrapped in neat white paint, glowing advertisements flickering as they hung from the ceiling and walls.

“Triples here I presume?” Wick asked chuckling slightly as he got up from his chair.

“No, just standard fare here,” Cass replied strolling into the living room where she had laid out her stuff, ready to transfer into her new ship as soon as she got it. “They automated fare’s here way before I ever came, corruption scandal came down on it same time as the mining company down on the planet took over security. So they just laid them all of and automated it, cheaper in the end I suppose,” she said, her voice slightly uncertain as Wick gave a nod, not quite of agreement, more acceptance, “There isn’t any calibre restrictions on the station by the way, though you’ll get checked more if you take anything larger than a pistol so…” she added shrugging, pre-empting Wick’s next question. He looked over to his collection of pistols on the well, mulling over what to take before finally picking up a S&W K-frame ‘Pinto’ revolver in .38 Special. It was beautiful piece, one he won… well, best to not say where, that had two different finishes on it, with a nickelled frame and blued cylinder and barrel. He picked out a handful or two of cartridges and dumped them into a pack that he pulled on, along with the holster, which was tucked under his arm.

“You all right going to buy your ship yourself? I need to get some supplies for the ship,” Wick asked, dropping rounds into the chambers of his cylinder, then pressing it shut as he slid it into his holster, shifting his jacket properly back over his shoulders.

“Of course, I know my way around the station, you’re the one who’s new here,” Cass replied cheekily, grinning at him as she finished.

“No, I meant how you are shit at buying ships. The last two you had help with after you bought the ‘Wistful’,” Wick replied deadpan, though wincing slightly as he mentioned the ship.

“Oh, yes…” she replied, a considering look on her face, seeming to consider something deeply, “I’ll be fine,” she announced proudly, “probably,” she added slightly uncertain. Wick looked at her with a tired expression, before sighing.

“Ring me if you need help,” he called out as he went over to the airlock, setting up his usual anti-burglar system.

“Right,” Cass replied, opening the airlock door and stepping down the steps onto the dock floor, “do you know where to go for your supplies though?”

“I’ll find what I’m looking for, just need to have a look,” Wick muttered back, coming down the stairs, turning to the electric clerk, a small metal post resembling a ticket meter in a car park. He tapped the thing on the side and it plinked into life, demanding its fare as soon as it did. He shoved in the money then turned back to Cass as they both made their way forward towards the left exit of the dock. It took them a while to cross the wide space, and then they were let through the gate with naught but a cursory glance from a guard at the gate holding a polymer rifle and a grim expression, sucking one of his teeth.

The ceiling seemed to drag itself onward into the sky far more than you would think possible, floors were stacked on the walls, criss-crossing catwalks and rail-cars hanging overhead clattering underfoot or rattling with the trains and mining carts. People thronged through the streets, dressed in all manner of clothes, with all manner of faces. Noise buzzed through the place, every moment consumed by a devils dozen of shouts, conversations, songs or the disgruntled mumblings of the buildings themselves as people and vehicles raced by.

“Well, I’ll see you later then,” Cass yelled to Wick over the din, “hope you find what you’re looking for!”

“I will, you worry about yourself,” Wick called back casually, turning away as he waved to her over his shoulder, slouching slightly as he walked forward. He wandered around for a while, looking about at various maps as he tried to figure out where commercial districts are. He found an electronics shop after a decent amount of time and pushed open the door of the place. It was a small, dimly lit space, the front storefront being about five meters square, maybe less, crowded full of shelves. A rotund looking man with small eyes was leant up against the counter, offering something of a smile to the other occupant. A young… Man?... I suppose was right. He, as was clear by his appearance, had undergone one of the surgeries that made it’s recipients more ‘animal like’ as was the best way to describe it. They were… An interesting demographic, some had it done for work so they had some extra strength or the like others to have a fresh identity at a lower cost than normal surgery. Ad some just did it cause they wanted too. They were mostly fine, Wick having no more a problem with them than anyone else, but a few people… weren’t so keen from any reason from the expected to the odd.

Wick walked over to the counter, the cashier looking up to him as he straightened up. Wick went over his list of parts he needed, the cashier, who seemed to be the owner, nodded as he listened to the list occasionally stating that he didn’t stock something. When Wick had finished his list and heard the prices he waited as the younger clerk went into the back to fetch them for him, packing up a few items to cart over to his ship. They younger man was much taller and thinner than the owner, his face resembling some breed of wolf, covered in cloud-like fur dressed in the store’s grey and red uniform. Overall, the price was cheap, Wick being handed back a bag of bulb, chips most of the capacitors he needed along with a dozen or more so things the ship had used up for maintenance. He gave a curt nod to the pair and walked back out of the shop brushing past a tall man in a pressed grey suit.

Next, he went into a builders merchant, ordering a number of pipes to be delivered to his ship, along with trying to snatch up a few environmental plates, but, again, none were the right size. He got some more of the ESP he used from a chemical supplier along with some more gunpowder, and more ammunition etc. It was late in the day, when he made his way into a small off-licence nestled into a dim corner of the level. It was pressed into the corner of a street, a thing doorway leading into a larger space filled with fluorescent lighting. He strolled around the shelves, lifting a few bottles of the shelves as well as a six pack of French lager, Saint Bertin they were called, adorable squat green bottles with white caps as well as some bread and other supplies taking five packs of cigarettes from the counter and adding them onto the stack of items, getting a slightly amused but understanding look from the cashier from under his mess of hair. Wick handed over the money and left without a word, rubbing his eyes as he strolled down the street, quite exhausted.

He spotted a bench nestled into a small open space a few hundred paces away, out of the view of people. He strolled over to it and dropped himself down onto the metal frame, sighing as he did. He opened one of the cigarette packets and pulled one out, plopping it into his mouth as he fished around in his pocket for his lighter. After searching for a moment he pulled out a small silver zippo painted with a small picture of Niagara falls on one side, he flicked it open then sparked it on, holding the small orange flame to its head, breathing in slightly to light it, letting it dip into his lungs as he stared across from him tiredly, letting the smoke billow out of his mouth slowly. He snapped it closed with one hand then tucked it back into his pocket. He gazed ahead of him, not looking at anything in particular, thinking about a few dozen things at once. He fixed his gaze onto a shiny steel plate in front of him, polished till it reflected him in it’s face, barely a meter from him. He shifted in his seat, getting himself comfy, and then noticed, reflected in the mirror a pistol moving closer toward the back of his head from the pitch black space behind him.

He dived to the side just as it went off, taking a decent part of his ear lobe with it, sending it ringing as he felt blood drip down the side of his head. Wick jumped up to his feet, knocking over his bag as he did, keeping himself low as he reached for his revolver, but then suddenly felt someone grab him pull him into a grapple, constraining his chest with broad arms stuffed into a pressed grey suit. A thinner man jumped out from the space behind the bench holding a black polymer pistol, a wispy moustache on his face split by a horizontal scar that went from his jaw to just above the opposite side of his lip. He twisted his face into a smile.

“I presume out friend at St. Edmunds mentioned we were coming? Guess you were too stupid to listen,” he called out a smarmy expression on his face, Wick grimacing as he felt the buff man’s grip getting tighter, “though I suppose that’s to be expected. If you were smart, you would have kept your nose out of this altogether,” he added, pointing the pistol at Wick’s head.

Wick glowered at him, then quite suddenly, slammed hi heel into the ankle of the buff man, making him twist over in pain, as he loosed his grip. Wick jabbed his elbow into the man’s chest and pulled himself free as he reached for his pistol, but received a hard punch in the other side of his ribs in response, winding him. He glanced over to the thinner man stood to the side of him and his partner, pointing his pistol at Wick’s chest. He dodged a heavy punch from the bigger man, getting into the man’s blind spot, which he presumed was the side bearing a hollow cavity where an eye socket must have once belonged. He then darted over to the thinner man, who missed a shot as he came closer which slammed into the wall panel of the building behind them. Wick threw a hard punch as the man, which he quickly guarded, then finding a hand kick on his knee, making him fall down. He then punched the thin man on the side of the jaw, nocking him out, just as he flet himself being grabbed and tossed over to the bench by the buff man. His spine clicked unpleasantly as it struck the metal frame, wincing a he stared up at the large man approaching him with a malicious expression, until he reached for his revolver and tugged at the heavy double action trigger until it flung a .38 calibre hollow point into the mans head, making him stop in place, teetering on his own feet until he slumped over, blood polling below him as Wick stared and the mangled exit wound on the back of his head, breathing heavily.

He pulled himself to his feet, grunting as he pressed a hand to his back. He stood up and collected everything back into his bag then began walking away, pointing his revolver at the unconscious man as he walked by, cocking the hammer with his thumb, then firing it into his chest a bored, yet irritated expression on his face as he bit back down on his now bent cigarette. He decided to go back to the docks, opening the cylinder of his revolver as he walked, tucking the handle of the bag in the inside of his elbow as he removed the two spent cases and replaced them with fresh ones, pressing it back closed as soon as he did, rattling the spent cases in the pocket of his cargo trousers. He walked for a while, wincing as his back and chest ached, feeling his ear bleed down the side of his head, staining the collar of his shirt. Then he saw a clump of people dressed in grey suits, or grey jackets, strolling around, a few with carbines and weapons on their backs. One spotted Wick, a shortish woman with black hair pulled into a loose ponytail and gestured him out to the others, Wick promptly turning on his heel and picking up his pace in a different direction.

 As he walked he swapped the bag over to his left hand as he reached into his jacket for his revolver, holding it in his had as he let his arm hang by his side. He strode forward through the crowd in the direction of the docks, not quite running, but not just walking either. He heard them coming after him, either matching or exceeding his pace, slowly getting closer. He continued this for a while, getting closer to the dock, then suddenly spun around, bringing up his revolver and firing at the chest of the largest man, who was carrying an M4 carbine on his back. He promptly dropped to the floor, gasping for air, the rest of them reaching for their weapons as they ducked down, the crowd being flung into panic, running away from the scene, or straight through it. Wick dashed away, occasionally spinning around to fire a shot or two at his pursuers, one remaining with the large man at the start with a panicked expression.

Wick continued at a hurried pace, spitting out his spent cigarette and racking his bag onto his shoulder as he opened the cylinder of his revolver and dumped out all the spent brass, not bothering to collect it for reuse, pressing in six new rounds into the chambers and snapping it shut, cocking the hammer. A few people gave him looks as he continued, ranging from terror, to fury, to mild irritation. They all dashed away, a few running up too guards, who glanced over to Wick with deadpan expressions, then over to his pursuers. They all disregarded their concerns a few turning over to Wick, with considering looks, debating whether to deal with him, but deciding against it when they saw him firing his revolver back after him, the short barrel spitting out a roar of muzzle flash with every shot.

His pursuers fired a few rounds after him, missing due to the chaos, not having a clear shot and either hitting the wall or some unfortunate person who was too slow to flee. Then a round ripped through the top of Wicks shoulder, near the handles of his bag, making him grunt out in pain as he ran forward to the docks, another bullet flying through his thigh, making him fall to a knee as it gave out. He span round his arm as he fell, firing a pair of rounds at the closest pursuer, who had shot him, the first one missing but the other one landing just below the sternum. Wick pulled himself back up to his feet as the other man collapsed to the ground, gripping at his chest as blood drained out of it. Wick ran as fast as he could, his wounded leg slowing him slightly as he dragged himself past the guard, who barely offered him an uninterested glance after he saw Wick’s pursuers.

Wick weaved between the parked ships as he went, hearing the rounds scattering off the steel behind him as he heard them shout after him ,slowly getting closer as the crack of gunfire rang throughout the dock. He felt his legs ache underneath him, his wounded limb throbbing as his shoulder smarted rudely, making him hiss in pain as he pushed himself further and further to his ship. He saw his ship finally come into view just then, as his pursuers came close. He dashed up to his ship, disabling the trap before he flung open the airlock door. He pulled himself up into the narrow room, grabbing a small table inside it and laying it down in front of the door as he grabbed the shotgun off it’s mount and pointed it out of the airlock and fired in the rough direction of his pursers, making them all duck down or dive behind cover. He ran into the living room, dropping the shotgun on the sofa as he grabbed the first rifle he saw off the wall, a Dutch 1895 Mannlicher. He grabbed a bundle of en bloc Mannlicher clips loaded in 6.5 Dutch, pressing one down into the rifles action as he dashed over to the airlock, pressing the bolt home, feeling its face snag the clips’ feed lips before pressing the light bullet into the chamber.  He limped into the airlock, keeping himself low as peered over the overturned table at his assailant, now down to seven people. He shouldered the rifle, gripping the narrow rifle as he aimed it over the table onto one of the advancing gunmen. He squeezed the trigger, feeling it smoothly click between its stages dropping the rifles sear. The rifle thumped back into Wick’s shoulder, as the bullet tore through the breast of the foremost man, making him drop to the ground, the others diving behind whatever cover they could find. Wick ducked behind the doorframe, working the bolt of the rifle to rechamber a round, the spent brass skittering around the floor of the corridor as bullets pinged off the side of the ship or blew though the table.

Wick propped the rifle up for a second, having distracted them for now, reaching up to one of the shelves in the wall and pulling it out onto his lap, grabbing one of a dozen or so lengths of rubber tubing from it and tying it around his wounded leg as a tourniquet. He grunted in pain as he pulled it tight, seeing the blood slow around the wound, having already doused most of his leg red. He took a breath, glancing one eye around the corner of the door frame to the open deck outside the ship to see one of them running forward, trying to dive into a further bit of cover. He shouldered the rifle and aimed for the man, leading his shot slightly as he ran then fired, just as a bullet slammed into the steel above his head, making him jump and send the shot wide, grazing the man’s shoulder as he dived behind the cover. Wick ducked back behind, a second bullet clanging into the cabinets above him on the wall, a steel oxygen container falling out of it with a high pitched whistle from the puncture wound of the bullet. Wick peered round at the one who had fired, seeing a shorter woman wrapping her hands around a full size rifle, holding it spec-ops style as she glanced around her, checking her angles as she watched the airlock, a shorter man peering over the same cover they were behind, gripping a bulky pistol wearing a suit far too tight for him, being throttled by his collar as he tried to make himself look small.

Wick twisted around to fire another round at one of the further back gunmen, a younger looking woman who seemed slightly out of her depth, who received a fast bullet to the neck as she dawdled between cover, throwing her hands up to her neck as she fell on her side. Wick ducked back behind the frame but felt something slash across his side as steel shrapnel from the table lanced into it from a round fired by the first wounded man. Wick hissed in pain, grabbing at the shrapnel with two fingers and prying it out, squeezing his eyes shut as he did. He waited a while and tried again, a bullet slamming into the edge of the cover of the man and the woman, a set of cargo crates covered with ‘fragile’ labels. Another denting an upturned maintenance panel pried up from the floor a sixth man hid behind, his dark face half hidden by a blocky pair of sunglasses, firing a Glock back with little care for how many shots it would take him to hit his mark. Then a final round that dug into the foot of the seventh man, who bore a remarkable resemblance to the man from St. Edmund, stumbling as he almost fell to the ground just as Wick came upon an empty magazine.

He opened the rifle, slamming down another clip into the magazine then throwing the bolt closed as he brought the rifle back into his shoulder, rushing as he tried to hit the man as he ran to another clump of cates for cover. He fired and missed, the bullet ricocheting off the dock floor wildly, sending sparks flying. A bullet grazed by his neck just after, coming from the direction of the spec-op woman, who only missed his jugular as the shorter man bumped into her, having slipped. He worked the bolt as quickly as he could, cursing to himself as it caught on the clips feed lips, jerking it back-and-forth until it chambered a round, levelling a bullet on the short man beside the woman, now leaping out of cover over the front and firing a bullet into his crown, watching the fountain of blood raise from his forehead over the rifles barely-corn front sight. His body fell back on the woman, crushing her against the cover, making her lean over backwards, thrusting her rifle up out of the way as she tired to shove him off. Wick only head the sound of himself manipulating the bolt just before he put a round through the read of her jaw, making her fall still and drop her rifle.

The sixth man tried to run forward as spec-ops went down, running forward as he fired his pistol fully automatic as Wick, who ducked back behind the door frame, beathing heavily, feeling his neck ooze more blood down his collar, staining the front of his short and the woolled edge of his jacket collar. He made it within a twenty feet from the ship when his pistol locked itself open on a drained magazine, he threw a hand to his hip for a magazine and pressed it in just as he saw Wick’s rifle pointed to his chest. The round ripped through his sternum, crashing into his lungs not a moment later then digging itself into the soft steel underneath him. The other two, both now wounded men grabbed each other under the shoulder and began running away, firing back at Wick as they did. Wick aimed after them, trying to line up a shot but having to duck as bullets brackets around him.

The fourth round missed, zipping past them with a super sonic crack, as did the fifth, digging into the panels by one of their feet Wick hearing the en bloc clip fall to the floor from the magazine as he chambered the sixth round, letting out a slow exhale as he manoeuvred the sights of the back of the one he had legged earlier. The bullet span out of the barrel, wreathed in an orange boa of muzzle flash and burning gunpower, flying through the air light a sparrowhawk until it crashed uglily into the spine of the legged man, sending him to the cold ground before he had time to scream, gore soiling his pressed grey suit, throwing his arm and his pistol up into the air, the barrel covered with a tally of thirty-three. The one who had been hit in the shoulder let his friends body fall to the ground, sprinting hard as he dashed away. Wick gripped his rifle by the handguard, grabbing his revolver in his right hand, firing after the man, two shots missing before he laded on a dry cylinder, the hammer landing on a spent primer. He watched the man run behind a ship, clicking his tongue in regret, knowing he’d bring more.

Then he heard a shot come from the ship he ran behind, muzzle flash lighting up the space. Cass walked out of the space and looked over at Wick’s sip, offering a tired wave. Wick looked at her slightly incredulously, then smiled with a chuckle, returning the wave as he pushed against the wall to lift himself up. He grabbed his rifle, pulling the table back up against the wall, limping down the steps as Cass came closer.

“How has your day been?” Wick asked sardonically, seeing the bruises on her cheek and the bloody nose, along with all the ruffled clothes.

She took a breath, breathing out as she looked around at the bloody refuse around the ship, “active,” she replied brusquely, Wick chuckling in response, “you can relate it seems.”

“Yes, I believe I can,” Wick replied, sighing as did, “what happened with your ship then?” he asked, turning over to her.

“I got there, was looking at ships, when a group of twelve of those guys in grey jumped me,” Cass replied, sniffing slightly as she wiped some blood from her nostril.

“How’d you manage with that?” Wick asked, placing the butt of his rifle on the ground.

“I dealt with them all myself, what else,” she replied, smiling her Cheshire cat smile, cracking her knuckles, “all dozen of them shouldn’t be getting up again. Not unless it’s to see they river Stix they were going on about.” Wick looked at her slightly surprised, well, not truly and shook his head.

He pulled up his rifle, throwing it up then catching it in the middle, sliding open the bolt and loading a new clip, “you are a marvel,” he muttered with a tired smile as Cass looked at him slightly confused. Then he shouldered the rifle and fired it at a lone man in a grey suit, gripping an M4 equipped with a grenade launcher. He snapped open the bolt, letting the brass case fling out of the action and tinkle on the floor. He looked over to Cass with a smile, “eleven out of twelve then,” receiving a mildly annoyed look in response as he sat down on the steps up to the airlock, resting the butt of his rifle on his thigh, loading it then turning over the flag safety.

Then the taller boy from the electronics shop walked out of a small passage between a pair of ships by Wick’s, carrying a number of boxes. He looked around at the scene stunned, turning to the bodies with a petrified look, then back to us. “W-w-wha,” he stammered out.

“Perfect timing,” Wick declared grandly, “you can help us load up the supplies into the ship,” gesturing to his ship with a thumb as he spoke.

“Bu-but I was just here t-wh-what happened here?” he rambled out, seaming to shrink as he rambled.

“Lad,” Cass called out pleasantly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “the question you’re trying to ask is going to cost you far more than it’s worth…” letting her voice darken as the boy’s eyes flicked between Wick’s rifle and Cass’s pistol.

“…Right sir,” the boy replied after a moment in a gingerly sort of tone, readjusting his grip on the boxes as he carried it into the ship and placed it into the living room, coming back out to lift in the ones Wick declared as both he and Cass drank a bottle of the French larger Wick had bought, tending to their own wounds.

@agarespicero @gaap-goemon-ismylife @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @shark-smuggler @shax-lied @irumeanie

@sleepy-gry @pemopemochimi @csoisoi @crazyhorst @momonoki-a-real-teacher

@noyakwajhang @https-true-egoist

@namecrisis-lifecrisis

I'm Tired

[hard--mode]

Here's the notes for everything that would happen up until the end of the story.... as far as I had it figured out. You'll notice things are a lot less fleshed out the later things go. That's a big reason why this never got finished. the longer I tried to keep the thing running, the more I realized I never had any idea what I wanted to actually DO with this story which made it pretty hard for me to keep up. it's hard to write a story you're trying to take seriously if all you really have are jokes, it turns out.

I haven't reread any of this or edited it at all so who knows what kind of notes I might have written in between things haha

P: so as i was saying about undyne-

C: who’s undyne?

Everyone freezes. Chara just walked right up to papyrus without being noticed. Paps freaks out for a sec before he pulls sans into a huddle. Chara frowns and tries to peek around.

~Montage of papyrus’s excitement and harder puzzles, death montage

~Junior jumble: its sudoku now

Chara’s doing puzzles and sees flowey spying. They shout him over

C: HEY! still following me, loser? Don’t you have anything better to do? (but they smile)

F: somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get killed too much out here

Flowey pops up closer to them

C: nah, I’m fine! I’ve got that reset power!

F: not for long considering how much you use it (mumbles. Rolls eyes??) (some depiction of chara dying a lot in the bg)

C: by the way…. In the ruins you were telling me to use it… care to tell me more about it since you seem to know so much?

F: I-... uh… well you already know the most of it. It just resets you back to your last SAVE point like nothing happened. Only beings with a powerful SOUL can use it, so monsters with their weak souls can’t.

Chara stops their puzzle work and sits to even the heights: Can flowers?

F: what the heck are you-... oh, no no no. I’m different.

C: so you have the power too.

F: No! I mean-, i used to before you came around. Yeah.

C: so you’ve done resets. (urging him on)

F: yep.

Chara waits a while: ...thats all you have to say?

F: yep

Travel scenes from here on out depict chara and flowey together

Gauntlet:

Flowey remarks that he doesn't remember a save point being before it. Chara goes along and gets paps’ bit. He does to activate it

C: wait this isn't for real right? U can't be srs!!!

P: yeah I am, this is hard mode!

Just show chara repeatedly spawning at the save and running back in with flowey watching them

Then cut to the end chara on the other side of it panting and exhausted, papyrus shocked but also beaming

P: wow you did it!! I'm so proud of u human! I didn’t think you would actually be able to get through it--- I mean- drat! Foiled again! I'll get u one of these times!

Papyrus runs off and Chara watches him with a look of wonder in their eyes.

F: don’t get too excited. his pride is cheap, he’s proud of everyone and every thing

Chara grumbles and marches forward: whatever. I don’t hear you saying you’re proud of me, so why do I have to listen to what you have to say

F: You know, you’re gonna have to fight him soon. Didn’t sans say so? What are you going to do then, die over and over until you give up or are you going to try to murder him just like you did with Toriel? :)

C: I am not! I’m gonna talk him out of it and go right past him like everyone else. Who knows! Maybe he won’t even fight me because he’s that cool. Even if he does, he’s probably a wimp anyways.

F: I wouldn’t be so sure! I bet you don’t stand a chance.

C: shut up! Quit following me if you’re gonna be this useless.

Paps fight

As papyrus carries their body to the shed to rest. Opens on their vision returning and they see their hands hanging toward the ground.

C: why didn’t you kill me? You’re stronger than everyone else, you could easily do it. Why dont you finish me off so everyone can leave or whatever it is you need me to do? Why did you hold back?

P: OH! YOU’RE AWAKE!

C: you held back…

P: OF COURSE i DID! I COULD NEVER KILL YOU, YOU’RE MY-- I HOPE I’M NOT BEING TOO FORWARD, BUT I LIKE TO THINK OF YOU AS MY FRIEND! AND EVEN THOUGH WE DO NEED YOUR SOUL, YOU DESERVE A FIGHTING CHANCE TO DO… WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE TRYING TO DO.

Chara is too shocked and confused by the sentiment: I don’t… I don’t understand?

P: WHAT’S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT A FRIEND NOT KILLING YOU? HUMANS ARE SO STRANGE ...OH! I SEE NOW! THE REASON WHY YOU CARRY YOUR KNIFE LIKE THAT. IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE MORE AFRAID OF US MONSTERS THAN WE COULD EVER BE OF YOU!

He sets them down in the shed on the dog bed.

P: I’M SORRY, HUMAN! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU MORE WARNING IF I HAD KNOWN HOW YOU FELT.

C: then… does that mean you’re going to let me go?

P: ABSOLUTELY NOT! I ALREADY CALLED UNDYNE TO MEET ME SO SHE CAN TAKE YOU! AND YOU NEED TO REST NOW AFTER ALL THAT!

C: !! I-I don’t know who Undyne is, but I can’t do that. I’m in a hurry to get out of here.

P: HMM… IF YOU’RE IN A HURRY THEN… NO, NO YOU CAN’T! WE NEED YOUR SOUL, I CAN’T JUST LET YOU LEAVE. UNDYNE’S REALLY COOL TOO, YOU’LL LIKE HER!

C: No, I have to go.

P: AGH, WELL… I SUPPOSE IF YOU CAN GET PAST ME BEFORE I CAN CATCH YOU, THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO. BUT I WON’T GO EASY ON YOU!

Cut to chara walking toward waterfall, papyrus calling after them to come back and hang out sometime. They keep walking and mutter to themself: Sorry, but I’ll get out of here before that ever happens.

WATERFALL

They see monster kid and side eye sans as they charge in, hurriedly.

Chara keeps flowey around and asks him to read the words for him. FLowey says it’s not important at all to anything they’re doing. It’s just monster history junk that means nothing if chara’s trying to leave. Chara’s like shut up cmon help me out maybe there's clues. FLowey reads some history stuff in waterfall treating it like shit they already know

F: why do you care about all this garbage anyway?

C: I dunno, I guess it just sounds familiar. Like a story I heard a long time ago.

Chara stops suddenly and checks their phone. Flowey asks what’s up

C: i thought it rang… you didn’t hear-

The phone starts ringing. Papyrus is cheerfully on the other end and they walk and talk.

He tells them about how he heard so many horrible things about humans and the surface but chara was much nicer than he ever expected. Chara asks where he heard that and he says a flower told him. Chara covers the receiver and looks around for flowey, suspicions of him raised.

Montage w monster kid and umbrella

Chara falls from undyne’s spear attack and wakes up in the trash with flowey over them.

F: hey, wake up. I can tell you’re not dead so hurry up and get moving.

Chara’s kind of bummed: she killed me four times back there. And it wasn’t even a fight. I couldn’t talk her down or… i couldn’t even talk to her, I could barely see her.

F: what, are you giving up or something? You know she can kill you as much as she wants and you aren’t gonna die.

C: I know that! I know this is just like a game where you can keep on going but… it hurts. And it’s exhausting.

F: what will you do then? Sit here in this trash and do nothing?

C: *sigh* no. I’m just feeling down in the dumps.

They smile and get up.

As they’re walking out, they hear a click and someone to tell them to “hold it”

Mad dummys behind them and she just has a gun. Pointed directly at chara. She starts on her thing about the cousin and then blook saves the day.

Chara meets up with blook again. They go to where the snail races used to be. It’s all busted and unused

C: what’s this supposed to be…?

B: oh…. this used to be a snail farm…. And this was a race course…. For snails…. But a long time ago people started to call the races “insensitive” so we had to close them…. Sorry you can’t have any fun racing snails…

C: why was it insensitive…?

B: ...i’d… rather not talk about it………..

Timeskip

C: hey flowey! What’s up with this place and snails?

F:...i wouldnt know.

montage

After waterfall where undyne says how many souls they have

C: flowey… if they have 6 human souls, that means 6 others fell down and died here, so…

F: what?

C: i just- i mean you were the first one i met-

F: no, no, no, ive never killed anyone. You’re the only human i’ve seen since i woke up

Chara relaxes: ok. So you dont know anything about them.

F: no. i heard some things from toriel, not much. It’s too late to try asking her, but she’s seen all of them. She was there at the beginning even.

C: the beginning?

F: you know…. When humans started falling down here and monsters started killing them.

Chara goes silent in thought: wait… how… long has this been going on? How old is toriel?

F: dunno

Chara after having a rough time: it’s hard, but no matter what happens i can just keep trying. I’ll make it out of this! You believe in me right, flowey?

F: no i think you should give up.

Page/chapter ends there. Next is chara going up to fight undyne.

Open on a riff on the “long ago” cutscene that chara cuts off by saying they already know this story

Undyne screams SHUT UP!!! I’m doing my HEROIC MONOLOGUE!! Whatever, I bet you haven’t heard the part about the King and Queen’s human child who died of illness and their other son who was killed by the humans when he tried to return their body to the surface?!

C: No I think I heard that one too? Why are you telling me all this anyways??

U: because this is an UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE!! NYAAAGGGHHHH!!!!!

Chara’s getting their ass beat and on low hp: I’ll die in a hit or two. But that’s fine because I’ll just start this over. I’ll start from… where was the last save point…

A vision of them with flowey. Their eyes go red and the flashback cuts in between shots of them running from undyne

F: I think you should give up

Ch: what… give up?? I thought you were on my side with all the telling me to keep going and-and the hanging out with me?!

F: as if you had any other choice but to keep going! We both know you don’t.

C: so you’ve just been following this whole time waiting for me to give up and die, huh?! Why, are you trying to steal my soul just like everybody else?!?

F: it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’re going to die! And die and die and die! You can reset as much as you want, it won’t change that! So what if I am waiting for you to give up? You’re the last thing keeping monsters trapped down here. If you give up, you’ll give everyone what they want!

C: I thought you wanted to help me?! I thought you were my friend!

F: I would never be friends with a human! You’re all nothing but killing machines!

C: I haven’t killed anyone!

F: You killed Toriel! No number of resets can change what you did! You’re a horrible, disgusting human just like all the others and everyone would be happier if you were dead!

Flowey could say something about dying down here is better than their inevitable death on the surface. Their death would at least be worth something. Mean something

Chara escapes the fight, undyne collapses, and they walk away. they tell themselves they won’t give up. They don’t need help, especially not from that dumb flower. They’ll live to spite him and everyone else who tries to kill them

Chara goes in and meets alphys and overall is p meh abt it bc bad mood. Alphys helping them through the underground makes them talk to themselves about how they dont need flowey, they can do this themself. Friends are no good.

hotland is as normal. probably figure out some indication of things not right. make the game seem broken bc they arent supposed to get so far like this

Chara meets with sans at mtt resort for food reluctantly. Lets him say his piece. After he’s done threatening to kill them chara says to his face that they really don’t like him.

Need some hubbub about them having to kill asgore to get out. Theyll be like yeah I know that (somehow)... oh but I need a plan… how will i come up with a plan..

Flowey finally appears to chara again just before they get to new home and tries to talk them out of leaving. Disparaging the surface and telling them they could live happily down here. Chara says no, it’s too hard because people are constantly hunting them down and being the last soul, no ones going to stop that. He says that he’s sorry for the way he was before

Chara smiles back, and then looks away: What you said before… about.. My inevitable death on the surface…

F: that was… don’t worry about that.

C: are you afraid of it?

F: well- yeah, it’s a dangerous place. Everyone knows that.

C: I’ve died a lot more times down here than I ever did up there.

A beat

C: you go back and forth a lot between talking about how I should stay down here because it’s better… but also if I die down here… everyone gets to go free… to the horrible, awful surface.

F: uh,, did I say all that…? I may have contradicted myself a little… I guess… in the end I just wanted an excuse for you to stay around. I really don’t want you to die.

C: so you did see me as a friend after all?

F: well…you reminded me of someone who was my friend. I wish we could have been friends.

C: Do you think… If I reset back to the beginning and did this again, if I said the right things… we could have been?

F: No… You could be as nice to me or as mean to me as you want. No matter how many times you reset, some things never change.

C: ...Did you ever… have to reset because you killed someone?

F: ……….once… and then I never reset ever again. The power to reset… makes you do bad things. It’s wrong. I had to stop because i knew… I’d make someone really upset if I kept messing around.

C: well, in that case… I guess I’ll just have to get the rest of the way out of here without any resets!

Flowey smiles: I dunno, keep one or two under your belt. You’re a pretty big klutz.

C: Thanks for helping me out of here, flowey. Even if you just did it because you were begged.

Can you imagine a more paranoid flowey who is less interested in attacking you and regaining the reset ability, but is pleased af that you have the reset ability because that means you can't die, and instead he spends the entire game trying to convince you that humanity is hopeless. That there is nothing on the surface world returning to. That it's safer, down here.

he's part of the reason why things are so much harder

he's the one that starts the rumors about the dangers of teh surface world

there's a definite sense of paranoia all across the board

When they approach new home, flowey appears one last time and grabs chara by the hand, telling them not to go. They can live in the underground, they’ve made a lot of friends here. Chara says that they have to go, they’ll find a way to get out without killing asgore. Flowey says that he tried to stop them, this is as far as he’ll go. This is goodbye. They bid their farewells and chara goes along, but flowey secretly follows them, much less detectable than ever before. It’s revealed when he’s hiding with the flowers.

Chara walks up to new home, regarding it as a vaguely familiar sight. They walk down the many halls knowing exactly where to go. The monsters speak as they go through the motions. They find a cookbook in the kitchen with a page for snail pie missing. Chara mumbles about already knowing the story and that they should all shut up. They walk more quickly to stay ahead of them. Then one mentions the snail pie and chara stops dead in their tracks. No that’s not how it happened- they stop, and take back off.

They are stopped by sans in the judgement hall, glaring at him.

S: well I had a whole speech to give ya, but you look like you’re in a hurry. You’re a weird kid, but you’re fine. The king’s up ahead.

OTHER alternative: chara realizes something’s wrong and runs back to get everyone, probably threatening to kill asgore to convince them to come quickly. Sans is avoided due to the mob approaching behind them “I heard the word that you’re on your way to kill the king.” c: are you here to stop me? “Nah. But you’d better have a good plan to back yourself up, kid. King’s up ahead”

They run up to asgore, no nonsense. Some time is taken to progress things. As they leave the throne room, flowey watches from the flowers, chara looks back to confirm he’s there.

Asgore draws up the souls, the fight is about to engage, before he can smash “MERCY” chara yells: ASRIEL. Get the souls.

Everything stops. Flowey is behind them, stunned and confused. Chara turns and asks him what he’s waiting for. Hurry up and take the souls before everyone else gets here. Nearly every last monster is coming, if he can become godlike and absorb them, it will be enough strength to break the barrier.

Flowey is confused, how do they know that? Chara tells him he did it before. Doesn’t he remember? Doesn’t he remember them?

Either flowey does it and something happens, or flowey waits too long and chaos erupts which gets them killed, and then chara and flowey have to meet up and workshop.

Final fight:

He probably says some shit about frisk and how he cant lose frisk again, chara must insist that theyre not frisk. When they say their name is chara, he hesitates for only a moment. Finally, when chara’s pinned and about to seriously die…

C: you remember it now too, don’t you? It took me a while, I couldn’t remember a thing until i started hearing your name around. You’re an all powerful god now, you should be able to remember it all better than me

A: shut up.

C: would frisk want us to fight like this?! Would frisk want you to kill your own sibling?!

A: c-.... You’re… you’re really chara?

He lets them go

They reach the conclusion that frisk messed with everything and put them here with no memories so they could do something frisk could never do. Frisk thinks they deserve to live, no matter how much the two may disagree. They have to play along. Asriel is a god and can use his powers to break the barrier and bring EVERYONE back to life so they can live together happily.

go to final fight and everyones already there, things are very confused, flowey takes the souls and things glitch out (screen phases between bosses) and chara realizes this isnt how things are supposed to be, tells asriel theyre sorry for their baggage but he doesnt understand bc he isnt theirs, and then they gotta find frisk somehow

OR... they realize things in the speech and don't go to fight asgore bc theyre finding flowey... they feign fighting asgore and then suddenly tell flowey to take the souls("Asriel! get the souls!" and thats the first time they call him by name)...? i like that a bit better. they start going on about crazy shit that makes roided out flowey kind of lose it at them which leads to them apologizing to their own asriel but then realizing they need to find frisk

but HOW do they find frisk

The end shows chara asriel and frisk hugging eachother, all alive and well. Then the two are “processing…” and remember that oh, theyve done some dark messed up stuff.

[altruistic-meme]

3,7 and 29 for the fic writers ask! :]]

hi sappho darling!!

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

the only one that i know of that i would for sure never touch is the uhhhh "sex pollen" thing?? ive literally never even seen it but it's supposedly one of the "well-known" tropes or aus or whatever and i just. don't get it. i don't understand the concept of it. i don't understand the point or interest. absolutely a no from me.

i also would probably never write a cheating fic. but i only say probably bc thought i would never read one and then i did and it FUCKED me UP (positive) and i still think about it bc holy shit

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Wilhelm took a deep breath, closed his eyes, leaned against a desk. He thought of how terrible an idea this was, how he had once again been being so selfish, how he hadn’t considered that his own freedom may cost the freedom he had tried so hard to guarantee Simon. And then he looked at Simon. And he fell in love. He fell in love with his curly hair, with his brown eyes, with the scar on his cheek, with the way he kept looking at Wilhelm and how it felt like he was seeing him, with the way his lips parted as he let out a steadying breath, with the small smile that he was giving him.  And it didn’t hurt. Falling in love with Simon didn’t hurt the way that falling in love with the sky, and with the way his coffee tasted, and with the people on the street had for the last seven years. Falling in love with Simon now felt exactly as it had the first time: freeing. This love was the most freeing thing that Wilhelm had ever felt, and he remembered why he had refused to ever let it go. Because he deserved to love freely, but the only love that had ever felt free had been the half of his love that he had given to the curly-haired boy, now a man, named Simon that he had once fallen in love with seven years ago, and was now falling in love with again. So maybe it was selfish, and maybe it was cruel, and it would definitely hurt, but Wilhelm could only be free if he said it, so he started talking. 

okay so if it wouldn't be ridiculous of me i would simply give the entirety of LVOE. because that whole story i tried to write more as prose and i love it so much. even this section is pretty... long for a snippet but i couldn't cut any of it off bc it's just so. AAAAAA.

i chose this specific area because it i think it's a very beautiful way to tie up the fic and i am so so proud of it!! of how it turned out and the ways it connects with other aspects of the story while still standing on its own: the war within Wilhelm about love vs. hurt and are they the same thing or are they consequences of each other, how painful falling in love has been since he and simon broke up but how he has kept doing it with everything anyway because Wilhelm is simply so full of love that it bleeds into everything he does, how his first taste of freedom felt like his last. as well as pulling back lines that repeated throughout the fic, "And every day, Wilhelm fell in love all over again. With the sky, with the way his coffee tasted, with the people on the street. And then one day, with a curly-haired boy named Simon." and changing them as he feels love truly without pain for the first time in seven years. and!!! also!!! including the ways Wilhelm grew in those seven years as well, how he hesitates and almost doesn't say what he came to say because he understands how selfish it was of him to come. but it also includes Simon's own growth, very subtley, because he is more sure of himself than he used to be. even though Wilhelm's thoughts tell that he's afraid of hurting Simon, Simon is SMILING SOFTLY at him because Simon has also grown up and he has long-since forgiven Wilhelm because he has learned to see his side of it, too.

WELL THAT WAS. MORE OF AN ANALYSIS BUT SIDHFKSDH yeah im proud of all of that though. im so proud of myself for being able to put all of that subtlety into it, all of these small details that still showcase big emotions. i'll stop rambling about this now sdkgfsdk

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

this is going to be INCREDIBLY out of left field ksghsdhg bUT there is a yuri!!! on ice fic, "Behind these Locked Doors" that i read forever ago. i don't think i ever.... actually finished reading the fic, i think i fell out of the fandom enough to stop keeping up before it completed. but from the last thing i remember of it, i would maybe consider writing a oneshot sequel to it that follows Victor and Yuuri after they escape, and has maybe a moment where one of them has a breakdown remembering what they experienced and the other works them through it. idk. like i said i haven't read it in years so details are so fuzzy. but. yeah!!! as i was trying to think what i would do, this story popped into my head so :]

[ writer ask game ]

[technowoah]

Revolutions Always Fall

You should've learned from L'Manburg. The Butcher Gang was a mistake.

- REQUESTED!

- I tried to put 2 requests in one here.

- its really long 🤧🤞🏽

Prompts!

13) "You made me lose all my faith and trust in you"

38) "They warned me about this.” “About what?” “You.” 

47)“Are you satisfied now...?”

⚠︎ memtions of blood, voilence, fighting, swearing, Technoblade's execution episode. Angst.

Masterlist!

Dear Technoblade,

I wont make the same mistakes again

- an old friend. ♤

Technoblade was always a threat, and you learned that from L'Manburg. You had befriended him when he joined Pogtopia and very quickly you two seemed to click. He saw the world through different eyes and that intrigued you. You wanted to be him, live life the way he does it for just a day.

He was a killing machine, he was smart tactical, but still had the thirst for blood that made him be so smart and tacitcal with how he kills.

You on the other hand were not a big fan of killing, but this war was an exception. This war made you practice, it made you angry, it lit a fire underneath you that you didnt know you had. Along with the other members of Pogtopia, Technoblade helped you fight, how to wield a sword, knife, gun, anything that you can get your hands on you turned it into a weapon, you Soon enough you had mastered weapons and you werent so passive.

You questioned yourself if this was living through Technoblade, the need to fight, hunt, to protect. You felt poweful. As you hold your own crafted swords in your hand you know what you can do. You could do so much damage with this sword, he gave you that sword. It wasn't special at all but you made it special, because in your eyes it was.

"You can do so much with a sword, people just don't know how to use it to its fullest potential. They dont know their full potential either. But now you do."

Thats what he said to you in between those stone walls called Pogtopia.

After what he said to you had done so. Used the sword to your full potential, used anything to your full potential. You wanted to be more and more you became.

"You ready?" Technoblade smirked.

"Hell yeah Im ready to kill that bastard." You smiled

"Woah-oh! You weren't saying this a couple months ago."

"Schlatt deserves it. That's not L'Manburg. This is L'Manburg." You stretched out your arms to the others who were gathering armor and polishing their weapons for the battle yet to come.

You smiled knowing this will all end soon, you wouldn't be in a cave anymore, you wouldn't have to hide the fact that you knew where Wilbur was and that he was planning the attack, Pogtopia will be no more and L'Manburg would be back.

"L'Manburg will be back." You said while taking a sword out of a chest.

"Sure." You heard him scoff beside you.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked slightly offended. Wasn't he fighting for the same thing?

"I dont know. Revolutions always fall." He turned his back to you and walked away leaving you to your own thoughts.

You hated it. He was right, he was always right and you hated it. And everyone else did too, they knew he was right. It wasnt what the majority wanted, we wanted L'Manburg while he didn't want to be held by government in the first place. That's what he meant that day in Pogtopia.

L'Manburg, one defeated, was now growing once more. After the "end" of L'Manburg you couldn't forgive him. Your anger and the feeling of betrayal kept growing and growing everyday, every time you picked up that damned sword he gave you. It was the best sword you had, you had enchanted it multiple times. You had to use it, but the only thing was the memories that came with it.

Your anger only worsened as time went on, having to hear about Technoblade and how he was such a threat to L'Manburg only made you want to destroy him and the past you two had created. That would be the closure you needed, but someone was already three steps a head of you.

In spite of your anger you and Quackity had the most magnificent idea to make a gang to finally kill Technoblade for the sake of L'Manburg. The idea was to go confront him at his house and take him back to L'Manburg for an execution. You were on board with the idea 100%. This was better for L'Manburg and better for yourself, finally someone who got you.

Quackity and you planned tirelessly to try and get Technoblade's location and bring him back. The Butcher Gang was made from the cabinet of L'Manburg. During these long days you two grew closer, you two were so different in ways of thinking, but you two shared the same end goal which worked out in your favor. You two went through hell and back just to find out that the easiest way to get to Technoblade was sitting in L'Manburg right at that moment. Philza, some may say Technoblade's only friend at the moment. He was loyal to Technoblade and you dont blame him at all, but you needed to find out where his companion was.

It was all going well, the Butcher Gang had put Phil on house arrest and Tubbo had found a compass that led them straight to Technoblade's location. Everything was going well and according to plan, you didnt want to show it on your face as you saw Technoblade's house from the spot in the woods the Butcher Gang was hiding in, but you wanted this so badly. You didnt where he was going to be, he could've came and bestowed more destruction. It was like knowing he was there, but not knowing when he was going to strike.

The anxiety that came with not knowing where Technoblade was always with you, but now it wont be.

The Butcher Gang ended up taking Technoblade by force back into the city. You were proud that you were all able to get the blood hungry pig-man to come back with you all. He was behind bars with an anvil hanging high over his head. As Tubbo gave his speech your short lived happiness soon faded as a man appeared and smoke filled the area. You started to get attacked by what seemed like Dream and Punz while Tubbo continued to yell for Quackity to pull the lever to finally kill Technoblade.

"Pull the lever Big Q!"

"Kill him Quackity!" You yelled with him.

He did it. The anvil fell fast towards Technoblade's body, but as fast as the anvil landed on him his skin, bones, and blood regenerate and return to its normal state. Your eyes widened as the totem in his hand began to disintegrate into gold dust.

"DAMMIT!" You yelled in agony while Ranboo and Fundy continued to fend off Dream and Punz until they retreated.

Once they did you realized Technoblade was gone, you saw him in the distance running away from the scene, but you couldn't let this happen. You couldn't let the fear of Technoblade being out there doing God knows what forever. The fear of him boiled in your heart as you broke out into a sprint towards Technoblade.

As you ran into a more secluded area you heard footsteps behind you. You glances back to see Quackity following your lead with an axe in his hand. Slowing down a bit you both ran side by side.

"Let's get this son of a bitch!" Quackity huffed as you both came across a cave.

You both knew Technoblade was in there so you both prepared for the mental and physical pain you would both endure. This wasn't like the Butcher Gang where it was 5 against 1, it was 2 against 1 and you've seen Technoblade fight this fight before.

"You ready to kill this bastard?" He calmed his breathing down.

"Of course I am." You kept your eyes foward.

You walked deep into tha cave to see 6 chests and a sign that said "final control room", that bastard. Wanting to be quiet you tried to sneak up on Technoblade, but Quackity's anger got the best of him.

"What the fuck is this Technoblade?! What the hell are you doing here?" He asked gripping his sword too tight.

"It not what it looks like." Technoblade airly laughed. He had an enchanted pickaxe in his hand and an open chest with netherite armor.

"How the hell did that anvil not kill you?!" Quackity yelled.

Technoblade started laughing, he was laughing, he was taunting us. "Do you really think that death can stop me? That you could kill me that easily."

Your emotions tried to get the best of you as you tried not to let frustrated tears fall onto your cheeks.

"How did you do it? What... How did you even do that?"

"You think that can stop me Quackity?" Technoblade asked again.

"Just answer the fucking question!" You yelled before either of them could speak. It was silent for a while before Technoblade slowly spoke up.

"A totem. I used a totem of undying. I always have it on me." He smugly said.

He continued on. "You know what?! You know what? Ive got a lot to say, I was gonna say it at the trial, but we got a little bit interrupted. You know I tried convincing you guys that government was not the answer, the government was actually the cause of all your problems!"

You rolled your eyes as he continued his infamous speech.

"I tried to convince you guys by fighting alongside you as brothers and you cast me aside, you used me. I tried to use force, but you still formed a government! And when I went into hiding, when I retired, when I swore off violence, you hunted me down, you hurt my friends." Technoblade finished.

"Techno you dont understand what we're fighting for!" You started finally finding your voice. "I thought you were for us! You were always against us!"

"I was always for you! I needed you guys to understand!"

"We needed YOU to under-"

Technoblade interrupted you. "You dont understand me! You never did!"

"At least I fucking tried and you gave me so much shit for it! I wanted to be you Technoblade. I wanted to see life through your eyes, I was fascinated by how you walk, fight, your mind."

Your anger began to subside as you continued to speak. "But, you made me lose all my faith and trust in you."

Technoblade laughed again. "Same here! You guys left me! Betrayed me so-"

"So the feeling is mutual." You growled.

It was quite for a minute, but you could feel Quackity's sympathetic stare as you poured your feelings out to a man who dosen't even matter to you.

"They warned me about this." Your arms gestured to the area the three of you were in.

"About what?" Technoblade scoffed.

"About you." You stared at Technoblade. It wasn't a glare, it was more calm.

"Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy...Even Ranboo." You airly chuckled.

You had stopped talking trying to get yourself back together. Quackity caught that you weren't talking anymore so he spoke up.

"What we have up there is a country and what we need here is organization and power. And I dont care how long it fucking takes me or what I have to do to get you Techno. Im going to fucking kill you. Im going to kill you Technoblade." Quackity gripped his axe in his hand.

"I just have one question Quackity." Techno smirked.

"What do you have?" Quackity responded and you took the sword out of the sheath hanging on your hip.

"Do you think you two are enough to kill me? Even unarmed with iron armor?" Technoblade closed the chest that held netherite armor signaling he didn't need that. "Do you think you both could take me?"

"Oh we do." You spoke up. "We need this, Technoblade."

"You know what?" Quackity rose his axe and you followed suit. "Lets find out you son of a bitch!" He charged towards Technoblade and you followed close behind.

Technoblade started running out of the long cave, but you two followed. He threw potions on the ground as he turned around and fought us head on. You were able to get a couple of cuts and hits on him, but he was cutting you more with his pickaxe.

The thing about Quackity was that he thought he was invincible. He kept going full force towards Technoblade, hopefully he would focus on him so you could finally get a critical hit on him. Your heart rate kicked up as your face came too close to his pickaxe. And it kept going, each swing he took towards you became closer and closer until Quackity slashed his arm with his axe.

Technoblade whipped his head his way. "I have a pickaxe and I'll put it right through your teeth!"

Technoblade swung his axe and slashed Quackity's face, including his eye. He then turned his pickaxe to the flat side and swung it, hitting the side of his head. The blow to his head sent him flying against one of the walls of the cave, knocking him out.

He then turned to you and in a flash you could tatse the metal of his pickaxe as it swiped across your face blinding one of your eyes as well as Quackity's. He had hit you on the side of the head like he did with Quackity. Your body was aching as you fell to the ground, your mind slowly shutting down. You were loosing a lot of blood quickly, and so was Quackity. You two knew you were going to find the strength to get out of this cave and follow Technoblade's path out.

You laid on the cave's cold floor realizing that this was a mistake. You were too loyal, easily swayed, you were a follower. You never knew when to stop, from L'Manburg to Pogtopia to The Butcher Gang you seeked things you couldn't have. You couldn't have L'Manburg, neither Pogtopia, you couldn't kill Technoblade and ease your fears snd anxieties. You need to seek that some where else.

Your mind began to slip, and you fell into unconsciousness.

You should've learned. He was right. Revolutions always fall.

The Butcher Gang was a mistake.

Dear Technoblade,

I remembered the day. It still pains me. The day you spawned those wither. I thought you were the traitor, but turns out I was wrong at the time. Im sorry for that.

I also remember when you left me for dead. But I made it out as you see.

But now I am resigning from L'Manburg. Im going my own way, my own path, and I don't want you on my path.

Think of this as closure, something I never got. As I am writing this I dont know why I am giving you closure, lifting a weight off of your shoulders, you dont deserve it.

I know people say that to you alot.

You really made a dent in this damned place.

I hate what you're doing. You get to live in solitude while we get to live in the debris you left here. I wanted to be like you.

I hate to say it, but I learned a lot from you. I hated what I learned, about myself, about you, about the current state of this horrible place.

I wont make the same mistakes again

Are you satisfied now?

- an old friend ♤

[jangofctts]

omg I just read so much of your writing and I’m 🥺🥰🥲🥵 the absolute royalty shit that we see here today. i’ve recently discovered I am very into ~thigh riding~ so do u have any thots on how our boys (especially our clone babes) feel about it? much obliged

IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY KEJHKJRH SO HERE YOU GO OMG

boba: yEs--boba absolutely adORES when you crawl into his lap and straddle his thigh. he’ll either pat his lap and invite you up or it’s one of those times when he’s intentionally ignoring you and you have force your way onto his lap so he has to pay attention. imo the first time you ride his thigh you weren't intending to, you wanted to fuck him but with boba, if you want something from him he’s gonna do it his way or twist it into something to tease you. so he’ll say something like “if you’re so desperate, ride my thigh” or maybe “ride my thigh and then we’ll see if you deserve my cock.” he’ll sit back and enjoy the show with a smug grin, one hand gripping your hip. he’s not controlling your pace, it’s mostly just there as an anchor bc you’re gonna be doing all the work. you’re lucky if you get to ride his bare thigh, but most of the time he’s got pants on so they always end up soaked after you cum and boba always teases you for it, “ruined another pair of pants, little one” but really he isn't even one to talk, he’ll be rock hard and leaking through his pants too. he’ll also nine times out of ten put his fingers or thumb into your mouth to suck on while he flexes and pushes the hard muscle of his thigh up to your cunt. he likes that satisfaction of knowing that even his thigh can make you shudder and whine his name--a bit of a power trip esp if he’s sitting on the throne. he’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards if you’re a good little princess for him          

din: din wants you to ride the beskar thigh plating. he doesn't realize it’s a thing he finds arousing until you sit over his thigh and he sees the heat from your thighs fog up the metal while your arousal smears over the shiny beskar. literally it’s like something just CRACKS in him and he goes feral for it. a dark thrill that comes from seeing your cunt drip over his precious armor, something so sacrilegious that shouldn't be arousing but it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. sure, it’s a bit cold at first but the more you get into it the quicker it heats up--it’s slippery too, not a lot of friction unless you drag your clit over the seams of the armor, but with din’s hands holding onto your hips and dragging you over his thigh, it’s not long before you cum. din is gonna be encouraging you the whole time, just a constant flow of praise and little moans of his own. he might bury a hand in your hair or slip off his glove and touch your clit when your hips roll up into his hand. he’d loose his mind if you lended a hand and palmed him through his pants. he doesn't even care if he ruins his trousers, he’s just so...fixated on the hypnotic motions of your hips rolling over his thigh, your wetness dripping off the plating and onto the floor. he might focus on your mouth, parted with gasping moans or how they roll the syllable of his name. he likes to watch you come undone like this, shuddering and whiney as you cum and eventually roll off his thigh. he probably busts a nut right then and there if you start to roll your tongue over the beskar, happily cleaning up the mess you made. but....sometimes...lick it off himself just to get a taste of you       

paz: big boy blue ALSO likes when you ride his beskar, but he likes it better when the armor is off and he gets to feel your wetness for himself. he has big ol’ beefy thighs and likes when you straddle one and start to ride him like that. imo he likes it when youre pressed up right near his cock so when you roll forward your own thigh brushes against his cock. it’s also just easier for him to grab your hips, set a pace and watch you squirm and whine. ngl he’s more interested in fucking you, so he’ll get cheeky and start jerking his thigh or holding you in place while he circles his thumb over your clit. p much will sabotage your wild ride and convince you to slide onto his cock instead. though,....if you were to tie him up, tease him bye riding his thigh, he might like that :)  

rex: oH rexY BOY--listen, rex has heard ALL about thigh riding, or rather what the clones like to call it, “paint job”. he doesn't understand the big deal, thinks that it’d be a complete hassle to clean and what not. in my oPiNiOn he’ll be sitting with you in an empty break room or on a couch, you both have feelings for each other but nothing's been said yet. somehow the topic of paint jobs come up and he tells you what he thinks and how it “couldn't possibly feel good, blah blah blah”. you just roll your eyes and you ask if he’s even tried it. he definitely blushes and mumbles out a no and with a leap of faith you ask him if he wants you to ride his thigh. baby boy rex gets very shy and embarrassed about it but he’s not gonna say no. so you’ll flash him a little grin and peel off your pants and your over shirt, make rex relax against the back of the couch/chair and sit over his plastoid covered thigh. even though when you start to grind on his thigh you still have your underwear on, rex with pick a corner of the room to just stare at. it’s not because he doesn't like you, he’s just incredibly shy and afraid he’ll cum in his pants if he looks at you. you gotta cup his jaw and force him to look at you. when that happens his eye will immediately drop to between your legs and just moan at the sight. he gets it now. seeing your arousal that’s already leaking through the thin fabric and staining the blue and white plastoid--he has to grip the fucking sidearm to anchor himself. his armor is one of the only things that he owns and is proud of, so seeing you riding his thigh, moaning and whimpering his name he goes wild for that shit. unfortunately he does end up cumming in his pants but eh fuck it. it was worth it   

cody: he likes when you ride his thigh in semi public places like the 79′s, debrief room, gunships, you name it. imma explain the 79′s scenario bc im a whore but anyway, cody likes to bring you on dates there, one because the drinks are free for him, two it’s dark and so unless someone is really looking at the two of you, it’s pretty secluded. he always chooses a back corner table and after a couple drinks you start to get handsy--nuzzling his neck and wiggling your fingers between the gaps separating his thigh and codpiece. it alWAYS starts like that. cody will chuckle, push his nose into your neck and nibble a line up to your ear, then bite down onto the cartilage. in that dark, rumbly voice he might sigh “such a depraved little creature. we’re in public”. but you can feel his smile and how is pulse quickens under your fingertips. cody will sigh and shake his head as he pulls you onto his lap, bUT--he’s gonna have you with your back to his chest plate, your dress/skirt/pants rolled up or down just barely in the view of anyone who glances over or looks a little closer. it’d be no secret what you both were up to but cody likes that. dude doesn't have any shame and so he’ll wrap an arm over your hip, push you panties to the side and slide his fingers through your folds. once they're coated in your arousal he might pop them into his mouth or yours, clean them off then flex his thigh onto your pussy. when he asks you to grind on his thigh you readily agree. while you ride his thigh he’ll nibble at your throat and suck bruises onto your skin, either watching your wet pussy slide over the plastoid armor or on the look out in case one of his brothers comes near. one time, just as you started to cum, a couple fresh shiny’s got an entire eyeful of you arching and burying your nose into cody’s neck as he rolled his fingers over your clit. safe to say they were a bit spooked--but of course, cody thought it was the funniest thing and couldn't stop laughing even if you were close to tears with embarrassment. now....he doesn't invite anyone to watch, but he wouldn't say no to a few prying eyes          

wolffe: I feel like with wolffe, it’s gonna be right after a mission--one of you might've almost died or gotten real hurt so he’s not thinking about fucking you properly--he just want his mouth on yours, hands buried in your hair as he pins you against the wall. I dont think he initially meant for you to ride his thigh, but when he wedges it between your legs and you moan into his mouth the second he increases the pressure, he freezes. he’ll do it again and when it receives the same reaction from you he smirks and tugs on your hair and might say smthn like “you like that? if you wanted to ride my thigh you could've asked sooner”. he’s either focused on your face or on your pussy, just soaking up all your little reactions or twitches when you roll your cunt over the plastoid. he'll have both hands on your hips, helping you grin up on him, while you either cup his face or grip his arm. either way youre in for a wild fucking ride--wolffe tbh wants to see his armor dripping by the time he’s done with you. sO do nOT be surprised if he just, doesn't let you stop, pushes you to keep going until he’s satisfied. imo I think he’ll make you lick it up after, or just in general would really Like It if you run your tongue over any part of his armor. he likes to be Appreciated :)

wrecker (im sorry I just nEEDed to include him kejkejh): honestly since baby boy wrecker is uh, so big, thigh riding is some of the first things you try with him. you’ll both be butt ass naked bc it’s just easier to explore like this, and while wrecker is eager he knows he has to think about his strength in order not to overwhelm or hurt you unintentionally. he’s a bit of a goof ball so when you straddle his thigh and bring his thicC fingers to your cunt he’ll smile and say some shit like “wow, you’re wet” or like “is it always this wet/soft?” he doesn't mean for it to be teasing, it's more like he’s just stating a fact bc he’s curious about you. you just nod and say it’s all for you, baby/only for you. the second you put your cunt over his thigh he’ll curse and clamp his hands around your hips or ribcage, and just to make the experience all that better for him, you’ll jerk him off while you ride him. wrecker is very vocal/loud and so you’ll know exactly what you’re doing that he likes--he’ll probably tell you how pretty you look, or how good you smell etc., that bOY IS SO FULL OF LOVE and just wants to tell you! it doesn't take long for him to spill into your hand, he shakes and no doubt wakes up half the barrack/ship but who the fuck cares. you just smile and continue to ride his thigh, chasing your own thigh. once he recovers a bit, you can grab his fingers and show him how you like to be touched. he’s a surprisingly quick learner with this and so it doesn't take long for you to cum. afterwards he’ll run his fingers over his thigh, collect the mess you left and taste you and maybe say “you should ride my face. can we do that?”     

[kudzushadow]

There for You | Part 1 of 3 | A Harlivy Fanfiction

Summary: After Harley finds Ivy in tears on the floor of the bathroom, realization dawns on her about how hard the past year had been on Ivy, from literally dying (1x12) to mind control. (2x12) They have a heartfelt conversation about the events leading up to the moment, and learn that sometimes it's ok to confide in the ones you care for. (Based on the scene from Eat Bang! Kill Tour: Issue #1)

Hurt/Comfort | TW: Past trauma mentions, slight hints of past abuse. | Spoilers for Harley Quinn: The Animated Series & Eat Bang! Kill Tour: Issue #1

See bottom for extra notes!

-

"...Ive?" Harley's eyes widened as she rounded a corner and was greeted with a sight that made her heart ache.

Ivy sat on the bathroom floor, head buried in her hands as her whole body shook with sobs. 

Harley was immediately kneeling by her side, arms wrapping protectively around her girlfriend without a second of hesitation. "Shh. It's alright, Ive. Everything's going to be ok…" Ivy had been acting strange since the wedding, but she hadn't been willing to open up to Harley. Now Harley was beyond worried, it was clearly more serious than the redhead had been letting on.

Ivy immediately relaxed into the blonde, tucking her face into Harley's chest. Eventually her sobs quieted down, but Harley could feel her trembling as she held her. While she tried to figure out what to say, she rubbed Ivy’s back comfortingly. 

After a couple moments of silence, after holding Ivy, feeling her tremble, listening to her uneven breathing… seeing her tear stained cheeks… realization began to dawn on Harley. God, she was so stupid and oblivious! She’d been so focused on her own feelings, she hadn’t even begun to consider Ivy’s… and how hard it must’ve been, being stuck in the middle of everything. 

“Ivy… I'm sorry. I’m so sorry… I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings, I hadn’t given any thought to how heavy all of this must weigh on you…” She brushed a strand of hair from Ivy’s face before continuing. “You’ve been through so much this past year, and I’ve been a pretty shitty friend. I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve helped you, should’ve protected you… and if I could go back in time and do it all differently, I would. A thousand times over.”

“...but I can’t, and that’s something I’ll regret as long as I live. Yet you’ve always been there for me, even when I created huge messes… when I joined the Legion of Doom, when I went back to Joker, when I released an army of parademons, when the Injustice League froze me… god, that last one sucked. Yet you rescued me. You always rescue me, Ive. Always help me. Always take care of me, even though I’m not sure I deserve it most of the time…” Harley looked away, shutting her eyes for a moment before forcing herself to continue. “...Ivy, you don’t have to pretend to be strong in front of me. You’re hurting… and that’s ok. We all hurt sometimes, but that doesn’t make us weak… or… or less human. I’m here now though. I want to share that burden with you, if you’ll let me.” Harley looked back at Ivy, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I love you, Ive. I love you so much… and if you ever… yknow, want to talk about… well, anything at all, really… I just want you to know I’m here.” 

Ivy turned her head away, and the next few minutes passed slowly in silence. Harley held Ivy, didn’t once let go, but with each passing second she became increasingly worried she’d done something wrong. Was it something she’d said? Oh god, had she made it worse? 

“Ive, I didn’t mean-”

“Harley.” Ivy pulled away slightly, raising her head so she could meet Harley’s wide blue eyes. “I-” She paused, choking back a sob. “I hurt you, I hurt Chuck… I hurt so many people… all because I didn’t know what I wanted then… and to be honest, I’m not sure what I want now, either…”

Harley’s heart dropped, and she opened her mouth to respond before Ivy cut her off.

“-...but Harley… so much has happened. You’ve made mistakes, I’ve made mistakes… and you’re trying to change… that’s good, and I’m proud of you… but you're right, we can’t change the past, no matter how hard we try.” Ivy shut her eyes, letting out a shaky exhale before continuing. “Opening up… relationships… hell, just being around other people is… is hard for me… but you showed me the good in humanity. That not all humans are… are monsters. My life before I met you… was… lonely. Even with all my plants, I had nobody to talk to. Nobody to confide in… but I liked it that way. It was safe. Nobody was going to judge me, or… or abandon me... and I guess that’s why I… why I chose Chuck… because he was the safer option.”

I trust you, with my life… but I don’t trust you with my heart.

Harley winced inwardly, but she understood where Ivy was coming from. Harley definitely didn’t have the best track record with… well, anything really. 

So I… I’m marrying Kiteman.

“I was… I was scared. Scared that if I… if I went with what my heart was telling me, it was just going to get broken… and after everything, I just… I couldn’t stand the idea of that happening. Of losing you again…” Ivy trailed off, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

You were my one friend, and I asked you for one favor, but instead you ditched me for the Joker, who treats you like shit! 

“Ivy… I had no idea you felt that way.” Harley spoke softly, using her free hand to lift Ivy’s chin so she could look into those beautiful green eyes… eyes whose depths she often found herself lost in. “I… didn’t know what I really wanted then. It was like… like I was trying to fill a hole inside me… like part of me was missing… and then, that night at the pit…” She smiled, using her thumb to brush a tear from Ivy’s cheek. “That was one of the most amazing nights of my life. I hadn’t realized… I hadn’t realized what it felt like to have someone else care about you. To have someone love you. Joker definitely never cared about me… not in the way you do… and... y'know, maybe I didn’t deserve it. Like I said, I haven’t always been the most reliable… but that changes today… if you’ll give me a shot, that is…”

Ivy looked up at Harley as she brushed the tear away, and smiled sadly. “...You’re trying to change… and that’s what matters. Harls, I do love you. A lot…. More than I care to admit… and… this whole relationship thing is new to me, but… I’m… I’m willing to give it a shot. To give you a shot… and today… today was proof of how much you’ve changed. How much you’re willing to sacrifice for others…” Ivy rested her head on Harley’s shoulder, but her mind was clearly wandering.

“...but that’s not all that’s troubling you, is it?”

“...perceptive as always.” Ivy chuckled halfheartedly, then looked away again. “It’s… it’s fine. It’s nothing important…”

“Well, I am a psychiatrist… but seriously Ive, you can tell me anything.” Harley stroked her cheek. “You know that.” 

“Harley, I really don’t want to talk about it… can we just… can you help me out of this dress?”

“...yeah. Sure thing.” Harley stood up before reaching out a hand to help Ivy up. She definitely wasn’t going to let this drop that easily, but Ivy clearly didn’t want to talk anymore right now… so instead Harley busied herself with the zipper of Ivy’s wedding dress and the sights underneath.

- End of part 1 -

I think all of it copied and pasted? If it looks like anything is missing please lmk!

This... this is what quarantine, lack of sleep, and having covid does to you. Helps you get over writers block. This is my first work I've gone public with, and originally I wasn't going to post it but a friend gave me the confidence to share it! So... here it is, I guess?

I was going to post it on Archives of Our Own too, but I have to wait till the 14th to get an account. 😐

Comments mean the world, even if it's just a couple words. I'll even take criticism to heart! By commenting you all can let me know what you think, and if you want to see the other parts...

Any interaction is appreciated, and my inbox and dms are always open! Thank you, and have a great day! (Or night!)

[lihikainanea]

i’m shy and get embarrassed easily, so i have NEVER SAID WHAT IVE WANTED but i can’t hold back anymore, I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT. actually, it’s not a want, it’s a need.

i need a really sub tiger (whimpering, spaced out look, needy, sucking on his fingers, etc) and daddy bill. sweet nani. TIGER call him daddy. i need big protector and provider vibes from bill.

also, i’ve read every single one of your posts ATLEAST 15 times. this page right here, feels like a safe space.

much love

ohhhhhhhh thank you bb! I love messages like this <3 I'm glad you submitted an ask, that's a big step--I'm proud of you, boo. This space is open and safe for everyone, it's all I've ever wanted to create, so to hear you say it--to know that you felt comfortable submitting an ask--bubs, that makes me so happy <3

I'm feelin soff and subby tiger these days. Not only because of this deadly heatwave that has been sweeping the entire fucking continent, not only because work has been hell on earth, not only because I'm finally on vacation next week after not taking time off for a year and I feel like I'm crawling towards the finish line, bruised and battered, on all fours pleading for mercy.

Oh wait, that's exactly why I'm feeling soff and subby tiger these days, so small and where she can just disappear into her bubble of safety and just know that she'll be taken care of.

If you’ll allow me to self-project for awhile, as I’m wont to do rather frequently--maybe tiger has had to be Boss Bitch for awhile. She’s not having a hard time at work--no no, quite the opposite actually. She’s killing it. Stepping up when she has to, working long hours. Maybe her boss quit all of a sudden (hello, self-projection again!) and tiger is just stepping in and getting shit done. And ike a Queen, that ‘tude is bleeding into other aspects of life. Bill has a wonky shelf that needs fixing and while he’s usually quick to fix those things, it’s lagging and tiger just thinks--fuck it, and fuck you too. Bill comes home and she’s power drilling the thing back in place. Changing the light bulbs. Replacing the battery in her smoke alarm. Doing all the groceries. Cooking. Working late into the night. Picking up his dry cleaning. Her friend is going through a bad break up--tiger is there, packing her shit up with her, finding her a new apartment.

Tiger can sometimes be a bit of a procrastinator--which Bill likes, because then he gets to step in and do things for her and he loves the smile she gives him when he does that--but lately? Bill can’t get there fast enough. Tiger is handling it all, knocking it out of the park, and making it look easy.

The problem is she also kind of works herself into a tizzy--because tiger doesn’t like having too much control. She can absolutely do everything herself, but part of what she enjoys so much in her dynamic with Bill is that she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to be in control, or have all the power. She can give that to him, and she can just float in that place free from all burdens and responsibility and know that she’ll be taken care of. There’s an immense power in relinquishing control. And like everything, tiger swings violently from one extreme to the other--she has all of the control, she’s handling shit, she’s handling shit like a boss--until she gets real small, because she doesn’t WANT to handle this much, she doesn’t want to be the boss bitch anymore, she needs a balance where she can be ballsy and courageous in her professional life but that balance comes from being able to be subby with Bill, being able to be put on her knees and be his good girl.

Yin and yang.

And Bill senses it. He probably knows by the crazy twitch in her eye, her subtle irritability, the way a problem no sooner arises that tiger is throwing some power tool, some 7-step coaching programme, some advice from years of therapy--just something at it. Bill barely has time to mention that something in the house needs fixing, let alone fix it himself--because tiger is all over it and then some.

Bill knows the pendulum is swinging just a leeeeeeeetle too far one way.

And maybe the next day when tiger gets in from work--she has a list of shit she needs to get done tonight, and she’s still tapping away more on her phone: bake brownies for a work potluck, fix the chain on the toilet, scrub the bath tub, build the IKEA shoe cabinet she bought, give Bill head because it’s been awhile, put the final tweaks on a presentation. And her nose is in her phone when she walks in the door, so she doesn’t see Bill standing there in the hallway--doesn’t see the way he has his arms crossed, the authoritative set to his jaw, his pinched eyebrows.

“Hiiiiiii,” she calls out blindly down the hallway as she toes off her shoes, drops her purse on the floor.

Bill doesn’t respond. Her eyes are still on her phone, her thumbs going a mile a minute.

“Did you get the drill bits I need?” she’s still yelling because she hasn’t seen him yet, “That fucking IKEA cabinet Allan key bullshit won’t--oof.”

She walks right into his chest, stumbling back a step or two as she startles. And then she notices--notices how tall he’s standing, notices the set in his eyes, his clenched jaw. His crossed arms.

“Hi,” he says simply, lowly.

“Hi,” she stammers, “I uh, didn’t see you there.”

“I know,” he says--and then he reaches out, takes her phone from her hands. He puts it in his back pocket and crosses his arms again.

“On your knees,” he says.

“Why?” she mumbles it before she can stop, and it’s just automatic when she’s been like this--question everything, oppose everything, demand answers. But Bill just cocks his eyebrow, bends a little at the waist and gets his face in close to hers.

“You don’t get to ask questions tonight,” he whispers, and it’s soft but deliciously menacing and threatening. Tiger bites her lip, and she’s so mesmerized by him, already so turned on, that she’s rooted to the spot and she doesn’t move.

“Tiger,” he says harshly, “I won’t repeat myself.”

“Oh,” she snaps to her senses, shaking the fog from her brain. She drops to her knees. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Do you like all of this, tiger?” he weaves a hand in her hair, gently tugging it so her eyes are on him, “All of this control? All of this power?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try again,” he says, “All of this responsibility, fighting everybody’s battles. Taking care of everyone else--but who is taking care of you, hmm? Who’s taking care of my sweet girl?”

And her walls are starting to come down, that pendulum is starting to swing back ever so slowly in the natural direction.

“I am,” her voice cracks, and she says it so lowly he barely heard it.

“What’s that?”

“I am,” she says again, just a twinge louder but even then it’s barely a whisper.

“You are,” he says, “Just handling everything like a big girl. And do you like that? Not letting me take care of you? Not needing me?”

“No,” she admits.

“And is that part of our deal?”

“No,” she says again, leaning forward and bunching his pant leg in her fist. She just wants to touch him, wants to be close to him, and Bill would never stop her from doing so in moments like these. He presses his thumb to her lips, easing it inside. She sighs and her shoulders sag with relief.

“Then I think we need to fix that, don’t we?” he asks, “I miss my sweet girl.”

She whimpers around his thumb, inching on her knees closer to him and resting her forehead on his thigh.

“Do you want me to fix it sweet girl?” he murmurs, “Get you back right again?”

She nods, but he snaps his fingers and he swears that she moaned a little.

“Yes,” she says immediately, “Please, Bill.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” he says, and he withdraws his thumb from her mouth, closing his hands around her shoulders and lifting her so she’s standing in front of him, “I think I need to hear that a little more.”

She whines, but he slams his lips to hers. He kisses the hell out of her, all tongues and teeth, pulling away as she gasps for breath.

“If you want me to fix it kid,” he purrs, “Then you’re going to beg for it.”

[wizkiddx]

without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?

hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x  I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33

summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition. 

Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.  

You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down. 

Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold. 

“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite. 

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms. 

“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”

“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”

“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness. 

“You sure? You dont really sound it?” 

“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”

“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?” 

“Not… not right now. Please?” 

With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand. 

“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.

“You looked sad.”

“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.

Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle. 

“I leave you alone for two minutes.”

“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.

 You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom. 

“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with. 

“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”

“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together. 

“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side. 

After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line. 

“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.

“I gotchu now lovie” 

And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’. 

Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible. 

He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom. 

He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person. 

And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.

once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)

would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)

tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove

[tobesolonely]

muse

A/n: hello everyone!! im very excited to put this out :-) i was going to make a long one shot but ive never written anything multi-part before and i wanted to give it a go!! also my first time with an oc 🌟so i hope everyone enjoys!! not sure when the next part will come out but i wanna upload at least once a week or every two weeks or something idk haha but anywayssss lmk ur thoughts!

biggest, biggest thank u to my love @harryysstyless​ for beta reading and being so encouraging<333 luv u!!

photographer oc x harry styles

please let me know your thoughts on miss aminah, iman, serena, and harry!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

Los Angeles was your newest muse.

You had always been the spontaneous type. It came as no shock to your family and friends when you told them you had purchased a one-way ticket and were moving across the country. Although your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter moving so far away from them, they helped you withdraw your savings and find a modest apartment in LA before sending you on your way.

Your reason for moving to LA was simple, really. You were a freelance photographer that felt your career was growing rather… stagnant. You had a thick portfolio and were proud of the work you produced, but your clientele wasn’t as impressive as you’d hope it would be after nearly six years of working at it.

And so began your desire to move from New York to Los Angeles— one big city to the next.

People who knew you often described you as ambitious, fiery, and an absolute go-getter. If your big move scared you in any way, no one knew any better. Your confidence never faltered— not even in the slightest.

After nearly three months of being in LA, you developed a routine of sorts. You’d wake up, eat a breakfast that almost always consisted of avocado toast and coffee, and go on a run. After your run, you would come home, shower, and decide how far you wanted to venture to take pictures that day.

Sometimes your roommates, Serena and Iman, would join you to keep you company. Although you’d never met either one of them before answering their ad for a roommate on Craigslist, you had grown extremely close to the girls in the few months that you’d known them. Despite the two girls being friends since their childhood, they never made you feel left out, and you fit in with them effortlessly.

During your short time in the city, there were so many places you had been, but still, even more you had yet to see. Serena and Iman, both native Angelenos, would often suggest spots for you to check out and even offer to drive you around— you were from New York after all, and at twenty-four years old, you were still not the owner of a driver's license.

“You’ve never been to North Hollywood yet, right Aminah?” Iman questioned as you all lounged around, trying to come up with a place you had not yet been.

“No, I haven’t really gone anywhere farther than walking distance,” you reply, looking around the cramped living room for your camera bag. “Or the places you guys have driven me. That was still considered Downtown though, right? Where we went the other day?” You were still getting used to how absolutely massive Los Angeles was.

“We should go to Santa Monica or something— wait, Malibu!” Serena exclaims. “We have to go to Malibu, Mina. It’s so nice there, you could totally get a bunch of good shots.”

“Yeah, we might even see a celebrity!” Iman chimes in, stifling laughter.

It was an on-going joke between the three of you. When you first moved to LA, you told your roommates that you couldn’t wait to make your way around the city because you were hoping to run into a celebrity. It was Los Angeles after all— you figured they were everywhere.

You quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Celebrities here kept a low-profile and even if you did encounter a celebrity, it’s not like you would approach them. “You’re not funny, Iman,” you tell your roommate with a roll of your eyes.

“Yes I am,” Iman quips, wiggling her eyebrows. “If we’re gonna go to Malibu then I gotta change. Can I borrow a cute shirt from anyone?”

A short twenty minutes later, the three of you were piled in Serena’s car on your way to Malibu. You’d heard of the city before and knew it was a wealthy area, but that’s about it. Your roommates promised you that out of all the beaches in LA, Malibu had the nicest ones, and lots of places to take pictures. Since none of you had anything to do, you all decided it was as good a day as any to have a beach day and get some shots of your roommates to add to your portfolio. Since you didn’t know anyone except Serena and Iman, the pictures on your camera from the last few months consisted entirely of nature and inanimate objects. While it was good practice, you really preferred to photograph actual people.

“Traffic is so bad today,” you say from the backseat after traveling approximately two feet in five minutes. Iman snorts from the passenger side.

“When isn’t traffic bad, Mina,” she turns to look at you, an amused look on her face. “Don’t worry about it. It always gets backed up at this fuckin’ exit and then as soon as we get past it there’s like, zero traffic.”

“Right! I always complain about how shitty this exit is. I have no clue who designed it,” Serena adds, skipping through songs on her playlist. “It’s still early in the day, though. I’m just hoping the beach won’t be too crowded by the time we get there.”

“I don’t care how crowded the beach is. I just don’t want it to take us forty minutes to find parking…”

You tune out your roommate's voices, instead choosing to focus on the traffic jam outside the car. To Serena and Iman, people who were born and raised in Los Angeles, the city wasn’t necessarily anything special. Sure, they loved how there was always something to do, but the bad drivers, traffic, and smog got old. The novelty of LA hadn’t yet worn off to you, though. You didn’t know how your roommates were content to sit inside the apartment all day when there were tons of things to do basically right outside your doorstep. You felt like you were the one convincing them to go out with you half of the time, and you didn’t even know where you were going.

After what feels like almost entirely too long but was really only half an hour, Serena pulls into a fairly empty parking lot. “Are we not allowed to be here?”

“Why do you think that?” Iman asks, squinting her eyes to read a sign. “It doesn’t say it’s closed. I mean, there are a few cars–– look.” She points to a few cars scattered around the parking lot.

“I mean, it is nine in the morning on a Wednesday. People are probably at work,” you tell the two girls in the front seat. “Besides, there’s someone in the parking booth. Can you even close a beach?”

Serena drives forward, rolling down her window. “I mean, I guess not. You can close the parking lot, though.” You hum in agreement. She quickly pays for parking and tosses her receipt on the dashboard before driving slowly through the parking lot.

“I love when no one’s at the beach,” Iman sighs, clapping her hands. “No one will get in the way of your picture-taking either, Meens.”

You smile at the nickname. “Yeah, that’s true. We picked a perfect time to come too, guys. The lighting’s great.”

“Really? Is it gonna make my skin pop?” Iman turns around and sticks her arm out, sensually running her fingers along it.

“You always look good no matter what the lighting’s like, Iman,” you reply, refraining from rolling your eyes at her. “You have the glowiest complexion out of all of us.”

“We’re literally all the same skin-tone, Aminah,” she retorts, crossing her arms.

“We have different undertones, though,” you answer. “So not really. Plus, Serena is way lighter than us! What are you talking about?”

“Should I park here?” Serena asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Why here? All these empty spots and you wanna park directly next to this car?”

“This is a good spot, Iman. It’s a parking lot. If they didn’t want anyone to park next to them, they should’ve taken an Uber and got dropped off.” She turns into the spot, quickly putting the car in park and crossing her arms to prove her point.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, smiling at your friends’ bickering. They were so close they were basically sisters. They argued sometimes and were quick to call the other out on their shit, and you loved it.

“I just think you’re weird for parking next to this car. It’s a nice car.”

“Who cares, girl?” Serena groans, exasperated. “We’re gonna be on the beach. They’ll probably be gone before we will.” She pops the trunk before unplugging her phone from the aux cord and stepping outside. Iman mimics her before flinging the door open as well and stepping out of the car.

You make sure your camera bag is closed all the way before situating it over your shoulder and climbing out of the car as well.

“It’s kinda cold,” Iman says, wrapping her arms around her body. “If I knew it would be so overcast I would’ve bought a jacket.” Serena hums in agreement and you look up at the sky, unphased.

“It’s like, seventy degrees?” you look at the weather app on your phone in confirmation.

“We get it, Meens. You’re from New York,” Serena teases, closing her trunk. She hands you a few towels and a blanket to carry while she rolls the cooler and Iman carries the beach chairs and umbrella.

“It’s a cold seventy degrees and you know it,” Iman defends. “Look at my goosebumps. I can’t fake this shit.” You shake your head at your overly dramatic friends and follow them down to the beach. You take off your sandals as soon as you’re off the pavement, wiggling your toes in the cold sand.

“We can set up pretty much wherever we want,” Serena points out, tucking flyaway curls behind her ears. “Where do you think the best place to be is, Mina? Y’know, so you can get good pictures?”

“It doesn’t really matter, to be honest,” you tell them distractedly, too busy looking around the beach in awe. Your friends were right–– out of all the beaches you’d visited in Los Angeles so far, this one was the nicest (and cleanest). “Maybe we can get a little closer to the water?”

The three of you walk for a couple of minutes before Iman abruptly stops, dramatically dropping everything she was carrying. “Let’s just set up here. There’s no one around anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“There actually is someone around,” you tell them, looking at a stranger who seemed to be fixated on staring at you and your friends. “Don’t look, but a cute guy is staring at us.” Serena and Iman immediately turn around, shading their eyes from the bit of sun that was starting to peek through the clouds. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty yards away from where you were setting up.

...“Huh,” Serena says, turning back around. “Is it just me, or does that guy look a lot like Harry Styles?” She looks back over her shoulder again, but he’s no longer staring at the three of you, focusing on what appeared to be a book instead.

“Why would Harry Styles be at the beach by himself at nine in the morning?” Iman asks, unfolding a beach chair and flopping down on it.

“Why wouldn’t he? It’s Malibu, dude,” Serena responds. You could tell your friends were about to start bickering again, so you quickly jump in.

“Doesn’t matter. Neither one of you would go up to him even if it was, so what’s the point in arguing about it?” They both raise their eyebrows at you.

“And you would, Mina? Bullshit!” Iman exclaims, laughing. “I dare you to go see if it’s him, and if it is, ask him if he wants to join us.”

“That’s weird! What if it’s not him?”

“Even if it’s not him, we’ll still get to hang out with a cute boy.” Iman points out. Serena nods in agreement and you can’t deny that she makes a convincing argument. “Just ask him if he wants a mimosa or something!”

“No, don’t ask that,” Serena interjects. “Tell him that you’re a photographer and you’re working on building a new portfolio. Ask him if he would be cool with you photographing him.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you sure that’s not weird, Serena?”

“Aminah, trust me. I wouldn’t deliberately let you make yourself look weird.” Your roommate reassures you.

And so you found yourself clearing the short distance to where the handsome stranger was laid, half hoping it was Harry Styles, half hoping it was not. You couldn’t act like you weren’t a fan of him–– you thought he was incredibly attractive and enjoyed his music just like most people. If Harry Styles was the first celebrity you encountered during your short time in Los Angeles, you‘d never stop talking about it. Ever.

When you’re almost to him he looks up, dog-earring the page he’s on. After making eye contact with him, there’s no mistaking that this is Harry Styles. You pinch the back of your hand, urging yourself not to freak out. He has a knowing look on his face and you’re grateful for your darker complexion that hides your blush.

“Hi,” you speak first, stopping a few feet away from him. “Uh, my friends and I are just uh, we’re... you know.” You internally wince at your inability to form a coherent sentence. His gaze never breaks from yours and you look away first, growing shyer by the second. If you thought he was beautiful on Instagram, he was even more gorgeous in person. It was incredible.

“Hi,” he finally says after a brief moment of silence. “‘M sorry if I was starin’ at you ladies a moment ago. I jus’ usually never see anyone else this early out here. Are you a photographer?”

You almost ask him how he knows when you realize your camera is still hanging around your neck. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am.” He’s still staring intently at you.

“Would you like to sit?”

You look over your shoulder at Serena and Iman who were pretending to be preoccupied putting on sunscreen, but you know they were waiting for you to come back with the man you now knew to be Harry Styles.

“Oh, my friends are waiting for me,” Harry looks up at you patiently, waiting for you to continue speaking. “I was actually going to photograph them. I’m working on building up my portfolio. I understand if you can’t for… I dunno, legal reasons? Or if you just don’t want to–– and that’s fine if you don’t, but would it be okay if I photographed you as well?”

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun. It’s kinda boring jus’ readin’ out here on my own,” he agrees quickly, surprising you. Harry stands up and stretches a bit before leaning down to gather up his blanket, towel, water bottle, and book. “What’s your name? I’m Harry.”

You know that Harry knows that you know exactly who he is, but the fact that he introduced himself to you makes him even more endearing. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Aminah.”

Harry extends his free hand to you. “It’s very nice to meet you, Aminah.” You love the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth.

As you approach Serena and Iman, their eyes go wide when they realize it really was him. Serena nudges Iman and you know without even having heard it that she’s saying, “I told you so!” Harry stops a bit behind you, smiling at them.

“Hello,” he starts. “S’okay if I join you ladies? Aminah here extended such a nice offer that I jus’ couldn’t pass it up, but wanna check with the two of you first.”

Serena’s mouth is shamelessly hanging open, and you realize that she may have been a bigger fan than she let on. Iman answers for them. “Of course! Mina’s building her portfolio and I bet it would look like, super cool, if you were a part of it!” Harry nods, setting the few things he had with him down.

“I don’t think I would even be the center of attention if ‘m sittin’ beside you beautiful ladies. I’ll jus’ act as a prop or something,” he flashes them a dimpled smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your names? I’m Harry.”

“We know,” Iman answers a little too quickly. “I’m Iman and this is Serena.” Serena gives him a timid wave.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you all. Are you guys from around here?” He lays his blanket beside all of your stuff and sits down cross-legged, not once breaking eye contact with any of you. You had no idea how he did it.

“We live Downtown. We’re only over here so Mina could get some good pictures, she’s a photographer,” Iman answers proudly. “She’s amazing, but she’ll never admit it.”

“Iman…,” you trail off. “Stop, dude.”

“It’s true,” Serena jumps into the conversation, now seemingly over the initial shock of who was sitting barely two feet away from her. “She’s the best photographer I know.” Harry turns to look at you, an amused look on his face.

“That’s a hefty claim. I can’t wait to see your photography skills, Aminah.”

“They’re just hyping me up,” you reply, making a mental note to yell at your friends for embarrassing you once the three of you were alone again. “I’m not that good.”

“That looks pretty professional to me,” Harry says, gesturing to the camera that has not yet left your neck since arriving at the beach. “I bet you’re just as good as they say you are.” You look away, hiding your face. Iman, being the wing woman she is, can tell you’re growing flustered from all the attention and moves the conversation away from you.

“Do any of y’all want a mimosa?” Before anyone can even answer her, she’s popping open the champagne and handing the orange juice to Serena to open. Harry politely declines, as he drove himself to the beach that morning. You and Iman are ultimately the only ones who indulge in a drink since you were the only ones not driving.

Talking to Harry was like catching up with an old friend. He wanted to know everything about the three of you and whenever he felt the conversation was becoming too much about him, he quickly changed the subject. Harry learned that Iman and Serena have been friends since the second grade when Iman pushed some boy off of the monkey bars for teasing Serena. He learned your favorite take-out spots, your favorite bars, and what freeways Iman and Serena tried to avoid at all cost (it was the 405, which he agreed with). What seemed to intrigue Harry the most, though, was him learning that you just moved from New York and had never even been to Los Angeles before moving.

“Why did you pick somewhere all the way across the country that you’d never even vacationed at before?” He had a look of confusion written across his face. You shrug, not really knowing the answer.

“I mean, I’ve seen it on TV shows and in movies. That doesn’t count?” you joke. Harry still looks utterly bewildered.

“I mean… no?”

Serena laughs. “We were just as confused as you were, Harry. We were scared for a moment when she moved in because we were like, oh shit, what if she’s insane? You know? Like, what sane person would move all the way across the country to live somewhere they’d never even vacationed before?”

You let out an offended, “heyyyy”, lightly smacking Serena’s thigh. “I just needed a change and I’m a drastic person! I either go all-in when I do something, or I just don’t do it at all.” You defend yourself.

“I actually think that’s really fuckin’ cool,” Harry says after a moment. “Sometimes I wish I could just… up an’ go. Y’know?” you all nod, and it falls silent again. “Well, should we take some pictures now?”

Any intimidation you felt to photograph Harry disappeared as soon as he started posing for you.

Being that he was a major celebrity, he was no stranger to posing for a photoshoot. Harry was ethereal–– you knew the pictures of him would most likely require minimal to no editing. Serena and Iman also looked incredible, and you were thankful to have such gorgeous people as your muses. You were taking pictures of them in various places around the beach, only stopping once it started getting too crowded. There were starting to be too many people in the background of your shots and Harry wanted to get going, not particularly in the mood to be recognized. The three of you decide you should get going too. You had more than enough pictures to go through and besides, you were all starting to grow hungry.

Harry follows the three of you to the parking lot, keeping his head down the entire way. The closer you got to Serena’s car, the sadder you got. You didn’t want to stop talking to Harry and photographing him. However, you knew you were just in the right place at the right time, and it was likely that you’d never cross paths with him any time soon–– if ever again.

“Thank you for letting me photograph you,” you tell him sincerely once you were almost to Serena’s car. “That was really kind of you. I can promise you I won’t post them anywhere without your permission or like, disclose the location or anything like that.”

Harry finally looks up, determining you were far enough away from the crowds and he was no longer at risk of getting recognized. “It was my pleasure, really. Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you and your friends. It was a lot of fun getting to know you all.” You feel your body heat up.

“Where did you park?”

“Right there,” Harry points straight ahead. “You?”

You let out a loud laugh, causing Serena and Iman, who was walking slightly ahead of you and Harry, to turn around and look at the two of you. “We parked right next to you! Iman was getting on Serena for parking next to you because the lot was pretty much empty when we got here this morning.”

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle. “I guess it’s fate that we crossed paths then, yeah?” You let out a quiet hum in agreement, stopping a few feet in front of Serena’s car. You hear her and Iman debating on where you should stop for lunch, but you were waiting to see what Harry would say next.

“Aminah? After you get a chance to look at those pictures, do you think you can send them to my manager? His name’s Jeff. I’d love to see how they come out.”

“Oh yeah, of course! Do you have his business card or something?” You were excited that Harry actually cared to see your work but based on the couple of hours you spent interacting with him, you learned he was just an overall insanely kind person.

“I can jus’ put his contact info in your phone? If you don’t mind,” his gaze falters, a sheepish look on his face.

“Totally! Let me just unlock my phone,” you dig in the pocket of your shorts, pulling your phone out and unlocking it with your face. You hand it over to him and while he’s looking down typing you glance over at your roommates who had shocked looks on their faces. You would explain to them later that he wasn’t giving you his number, just his managers, but for now, you’d let them think he was giving his number to you out of all people–– a total stranger.

Harry hands it back to you a few moments later, running his fingers through his hair. “Thank you again for such a great morning, Aminah. I’ll let you get goin’, don’t wanna hold you ladies up any longer,” he waves at Serena and Iman. “It was really nice to meet all of you. Hope to see you all again soon.” You notice that his gaze lingers on you for a moment when he says that, and you feel your body heat up for what must have been at least the tenth time that day.

The three of you watch as Harry unlocks his car and throws his items haphazardly into the passenger side before climbing in, slamming the door shut. His car starts immediately afterwards and he gives you a quick nod before quickly backing out of the spot, leaving. None of you say anything for a bit, just processing what just happened. Serena is the first one to speak, her hand on the handle of her car door.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Harry fucking Styles?” her voice raises at least two octaves and you know she’s about to have a mini freakout. “Did he ask for your number, Meens?”

“No dude, he just gave me his manager's number. He wants to see how the pictures come out after I edit them,” you tell her, opening the backseat of her car. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh, that’s definitely a big deal, Aminah. Stop being so humble,” Iman tells you, exaggerated annoyance lacing her voice. “Did you see how he looked at you? When he said, ‘Hope to see you all again soon’?” She puts on a terrible posh accent.

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, shaking out the blanket and beach towels before throwing them onto the seat. “Where are we gonna eat?”

Iman and Serena pile into the car as well, telling you about the three restaurants they were stuck choosing between. You hum distractedly, typing the name ‘Jeff’ into your contacts to see if Harry left a number and an email, or just an email. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the name is nowhere to be found in your contact list. You chalk up the mistake to Harry just forgetting to press ‘save’ after creating the contact and figure you can just find his manager’s contact information on the internet somewhere. As you’re scrolling back up through your contact list, your eye lands on a name that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

Harry Styles.