#Anya is right about rabbits

[magpiedminx]

Technical difficulties? @staff are hard at work fixing it.

[happyhauntt]

everything i touch turns sick with sadness — nikolai lantsov

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: anya still believes, sometimes, that nikolai made a mistake in marrying her. he’ll spend every day for the rest of their lives proving her wrong.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: serious angst, miscarriage, pre-established relationship, hurt/comfort. this one is fucking painful. thank you for voting on it i may never recover from writing it! title is from bigger than the whole sky by taylor swift. this is a little au where nikolai is still king post ROW and there's no demon bc i haven't read ROW in a minute and i didn't want to fuck up any details. also i take prompts pls send some i love them

─── word count: 3k.

     The Grand Palace is always too cold. It’s all cavernous rooms and long, draughty hallways like a rabbit warren leading to nowhere. Exploring these hallowed halls had been fun when she was small, and there were surprises lurking just out of sight. Now Anya shivers as she turns a corner, a chilly gust of wind streaking down the corridor past her.

     For somewhere so opulent, with its vaulted ceilings and gold-gilt wallpaper, one would be forgiven for assuming the insulation would be better, but even now, as the depths of winter give way to a pleasant spring, even with a fire burning in every hearth, the Grand Palace is far too cold.

     Genya rests a hand on Anya's elbow as they walk. They are heading into the last meeting in a long day, and Anya is certain she's not the only one who feels exhausted. Genya has her own things to worry about, her own duties to fulfil, but she’d taken one look at Anya’s expression, at the telltale tug of her lips, as they passed one another in the corridor and declared that accompanying her queen to this meeting was of the utmost importance. Everything else could wait.

     (It can’t, really, and Zoya will likely be very cross, but Anya cannot deny that she appreciates the company. Tolya is a darling, and follows her like a second shadow, but Genya understands the tiredness that takes root in your bones and refuses to leave. Ruling Ravka comes at a cost, Anya knew that when she agreed to marry Nikolai, but Saints, what she wouldn't give for a nap right now.)

     She meets Genya's concerned glance, and offers a weary smile. "You could set this place on fire and I imagine it would still be freezing."

     Genya chuckles. "Don't tempt me." Her kefta is buttoned all the way to her throat, and Anya briefly wishes she could wear her own.

     She does have one, embroidered in the palest blue of the Tidemakers and tucked at the very back of her wardrobe, though she very rarely has cause to bring it out. She was always going to be a hard sell as queen. So many nobles had made their prejudice known regarding her disability, while her distaste for Ravka is well-documented. She never could have imagined becoming its queen. She’d never wanted to.

     But she is, and Nikolai fought for that, so being Grisha remains a secret shared between only her closest friends. The nobles don’t need another reason to dislike her.

     Though she suspects Genya is rather warmer than she is right now.

     The War Room is already occupied when they reach it. An assortment of a few military personnel, seated around the table. This meeting isn't terribly important — if it were, Nikolai would be here — but Anya had received intelligence from one of the reconnaissance scouts at the Fjerdan border, and a discussion with the relevant officials felt prudent before any further escalation.

     She murmurs a greeting as she takes her seat at the head of the table. Her commanders stumble to their feet, "Moya tsaritsa" echoing from their mouths. A chill runs down Anya's spine. No matter how many years pass, she suspects she will never get used to the title.

     Maps of Ravka sprawl across the surface of the table, creased and yellowing at the edges. Small figurines depicting their troops are dotted about the place, though the majority are clustered near the border with Fjera now that the Fold is gone. Tolya posts himself at her back, just behind her chair, while Genya sits beside her, shoulders tight as soldiers begin to whisper.

     It has been years since Genya was scarred by the Darkling, but she is still a source of malicious gossip in the Grand Palace.

     A sharp glare from Anya silences them, and the meeting gets underway. As one of the commanders begins recounting a report from the Fjerdan scouts, Anya does her best to pay attention. His voice is dull and droning, like a drill boring holes into the back of her skull, but she nods at the right times. She knows that report from memory. She takes her role very seriously.

     When Nikolai made her General of the First Army, not long before they were married, few had found cause to argue. There'd been dissent about their marriage, concerns about her becoming queen, but not many could deny that she was an excellent choice to lead the First Army. Anya had been one of them, after all; discharged with honours after her injury, she'd ranked highly, served on the frontlines with them all, and she'd been a key figure in the Darkling's defeat.

     (Well, she’d really debate how essential she’d been in that scenario, because she’d felt particularly useless at the time, but regardless, she’d been honoured for it.)

     It doesn’t matter what she did, or who she saved. She will always have something to prove. Her stomach tightens a little as the memories come to her, unbidden, like moths to lantern light.

     Anya’s finger trails absent lines along the edge of the table. It is startling, really, how easy it is to forget sometimes.

     The civil war. The people she loved, and the people she lost. Blood in the sand. Days spent tortured in a Shu laboratory. Blood in her mouth. There are mornings when she wakes on a choked sob, red-rimmed eyes already watery with unshed tears. She can still feel the ash from the Darkling’s funeral pyre on her tongue. Her nightmares root through her and leave her half-ragged. Still fresh as the day they happened, no matter how many years sit between those days and these.

     Her husband wakes when she does, like two ends of a leather cord. If she tugs, he feels it, so attuned to her pitch-dark soul. Black-tipped fingers curl into her hair as he holds her close. He has nightmares, too. Some scars never heal. Anya knows this too well.

     Other days are different. Most days, now that the years have passed. Life demands her attention, won’t allow her to dwell on the dead for too long anymore. The world around her rushes by, and Ravka will not sit and wait for its rulers to be ready. The Grand Palace is a constant flurry of activity. 

     Her stomach is a raw nerve, a jagged edge pulling inside of her. She tries not to wince at it. The memories are painful still, yes, but she is used to breathing through them. Grief will always sit in the shadows, waiting for its moment to pounce — but there is light, too. There is love. A warm hand to hold, friends to weather the storm with. Memories, good and bad, line the halls of their home like patchwork tapestries. Every room has a ghost.

     The commander to her left says her name as he outlines his proposal going forward. Genya shoots her a concerned look, but Anya merely nods as he speaks, her lips pressed together in a thin line. In, out. Her lungs flood with air as she breathes deeply, trying to dispel the knot in her stomach, but the thread of pain only pulls tighter and tighter with every inhale.

     She touches her palm gently to her abdomen, the action concealed by the table. Another sensation strikes her, this one sharper than the others, and she fights to hold her breath as it passes.

     This is familiar. This carries with it a different grief, hollow and hopeless. Her fingers curl into the fabric of her dress. This she knows, intimately. Her heart sinks.

     The meeting can’t have lasted more than an hour by the time it is over, but each moment felt like a lifetime. With a plan of action decided between them, her commanders bid her goodbye. Anya remains seated as they file out of the room. From the corner of her eye, she watches Tolya close the door behind them.

     Genya leans in, latching a hand onto Anya’s forearm. Her eyes are bright with concern. “Anya, are you alright? You hardly said a word near the end. That’s not like you.”

     Anya allows her eyes to fall closed as her friend reaches out. The palm Genya presses against her forehead is soft and cool, and Anya fights the urge to lean into the Tailor’s comforting touch.

     “I’m fine, Genya.” It is easy to brush off her own discomfort. Anya knows what is happening, she’s sure of it, and she will deal with it in time.

     It has happened before, after all. The sensation is as familiar as the sharp ache in her knee, the scars on her flesh, the blackened tips of Nikolai’s fingers.

     Tolya kneels beside her chair. His frown is so loud that she can hear it without needing to look at him. “I can hear your heart racing, and you’ve been wincing every so often. Is your knee troubling you?”

     Another pain spikes through her like a lightning strike. Anya releases a slow breath and shakes her head. “No, it’s not my knee. I believe that was the last of my meetings, so I’ll retire to my chambers for the rest of the day.” She pushes herself up from the chair, faltering only slightly. Tolya’s hand on her waist is steady and sure. “Send a healer, but please be discreet. It’s nothing serious, I assure you. And please… no one should bother Nikolai.”

     “Anya, if you’re unwell, he’ll want to know.” Genya watches her as a mourner watches the grave.

     “I’m not unwell.” Despite her words, Anya’s voice still trembles. “I will be fine. I promise.”

     She’s just about to get out of the bath when she hears the door to their bedchamber clatter open and crash into the wall. Her heart gives a dull, heavy thud as she hears her husband’s panicked voice. She has no energy left to summon any frustration at Genya for giving her away.

     When Anya emerges from the bathroom, a silk robe tied loosely on her slight frame, Nikolai is still standing in the middle of their bedchamber. His chest is heaving as if he ran all the way to her, golden cheeks aflush. His eyes are soft and worried as he watches her fiddle with the ties of her robe. Saints, when is the last time she looked like this? Her cheeks seem hollow, purple bruises like pressed violets beneath her eyes. The weariness in her reminds him of long nights during the war, when he’d grip her tightly enough to leave his fingerprints on her skin and it seemed the sun would never rise again.

     She’s drained. As if that spark of Anya, that light he’d fallen in love with so long ago, has been snuffed out entirely. The woman before him is a hollow shell. Had it been only a few hours since he saw her last? This morning he’d chased her laughing through the sitting room and kissed her against the wall until Zoya dragged him away to attend to his duties. He can still hear her giggling, a sweet phantom sound.

     A servant emerges from the bathroom behind Anya looking upset, carrying a wicker basket overflowing with damp towels. She keeps her eyes fixed on the rug. Anya dismisses her with a small smile and the servant scurries out of their bedchamber, dropping into a rushed curtsey as she passes Nikolai.

     Anya doesn’t look at him until the door clicks shut.

     The look she sends him is enough to shatter his heart completely. Her mouth quivers perilously at the edges, but she’s smiling at him, damn it, as if soothing his frayed nerves is of the utmost importance.

     He doesn’t breathe as she crosses the room to settle gingerly on the chaise, fearful that any sudden movements might spook her. Her honey-coloured hair is swept back, a few tendrils hanging limply around her gaunt face, accentuating the sharpness of her cheekbones.

     “What happened?” His voice is little more than a gravelly whisper. The room feels impossibly heavy. “Genya mentioned you were unwell. Why didn’t you tell me?”

     Anya hugs herself tightly. The sight makes his heart ache. “I wanted to be sure, first. And I am.” The words are quiet. Nikolai doesn’t think he’s ever heard her sound so small.

     He drops to his knees in front of her. Reaching out, he clasps her freezing hands between his own. “Sure about what?”

     She looks up at him through damp eyelashes. Her eyes are bloodshot, her hands are limp in his grip, lips cracked and bitten, and yet he wonders how there was ever a day he didn’t love her. How foolish he’d been as a child, to look at her and not immediately surrender his heart.

     When Anya speaks again, it is little more than a ragged whisper. “I lost the baby.”

     Nikolai blinks at her. His lips have turned numb. “I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

     Anya shakes her head roughly. “I didn’t want to tell you yet. I didn’t want to get your hopes up again.”

     Grief sits between them like a depthless chasm, and suddenly he understands. Nikolai reaches up to cup her face with one hand, sweeping his thumb over the tear-stained skin of her cheek. She sinks into his touch, and it takes everything he has not to splinter into a thousand mournful pieces.

     They both know what happened before. There have been three pregnancies since they started trying two years, and each has left them stained with heartache. After the second, the healers informed them of the harrowing reality; that Anya may well not be able to have children. Not after the beatings she took in captivity.

     Some scars never heal. This, they both know too well.

     “You should have told me.” He wants to scream, to rage, to weep for her. He wants to scrape away all of her pain and take it for himself, to ensure she never hurts again.

     “I didn’t want to. When you didn’t know… When I kept it to myself, I was the only one who could hope and dream and pray about it,” she tells him. She won’t burden him with her dreams, of the golden-haired girl she sees when she closes her eyes or the little boy whose laugh sounds exactly like Nikolai’s.

     A desperate whimper slips out and suddenly he’s on the chaise beside her, sweeping her into a tight embrace. He rubs her back in gentle circles as she buries her sobs in his chest, and drops his lips to her hair as if that will stifle his own tears.

     “Nik, what if I can’t have children?” Her voice is muffled by his shirt, but no amount of fabric could ever disguise the pain of it. “Ravka… Ravka depends on it.” Once upon a time, it would have amused him to hear her care about what Ravka wants. Once upon a time, not that long ago, she didn’t care if this Saints-forsaken country fell into the sea. Now his heart stutters painfully. “You’re going to need heirs, and what if I can’t do it?”

     He wonders how long she has harboured these quiet doubts. How long she has let them fester silently inside her chest. It is so rare for Anya to voice her insecurities. She is a soldier, through and through; stoic and stern, facing the storm with unflinching resolve. When he’d rescued her from captivity and she found her future altered beyond recognition, she hadn’t faltered.

     She is not invincible. He knows the softness of her heart beneath all that armour.

     “Anya…” he murmurs.

     “I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret ever choosing me.” The confession spills out of her quickly, like she’s afraid she won’t say it if she hesitates. When she pulls back, skin blotchy and eyes shining, her expression is almost surprised. “I don’t think I’d survive that.”

     A fierce anger rises in Nikolai’s chest, but not at her. Never at her. His eyes burn with ferocity as he kisses her, harder than he means to, hard enough to bruise. He kisses her as if his lips against hers will make her believe it, as if she can feel the love overflowing from his heart. A heart not big enough to hold it all in without bursting.

     He pulls away, breathing heavily, and presses his forehead against hers. His hand curls around the back of her neck, fingers tangled in loose strands of her hair.

     “Loving you will never be a mistake,” he rasps. “Not to me. Do you understand? I will spend the rest of our lives proving that to you.”

     She shudders against him, half a sob building in her chest. “Nik.”

     He can feel his heartbeat in his throat. There aren’t enough words in any language to convey what she means to him, but he has to try. “And children, children with you, would be lovely. I’d cherish them with all my heart. But only if you want them. Not because you feel it’s your duty, but because you want them. It’s your choice, milaya. And if you do, and we cannot have them, well—” He shrugs, a fleeting smirk passing over his face. “I’m the King. We will figure it out. ”

     Her laugh is small, quiet, but it is there. He wants to bottle the sound and keep it forever.

     “The important thing,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “is that you are safe, and healthy, and I love you. I love you so much, Anya. Never doubt that for a moment.”

     She crumbles then, collapsing into him as the last of her strength dissolves. He knows she is in pain, and her heart is breaking, and so is his. She weeps quietly as she curls up in his lap and he holds her as tightly as he can, stroking gently through her hair.

     Some scars never heal, no matter the time that passes. But these are wounds they will bear together, and if ever Nikolai is able to ease Anya’s heartache, then by the Saints, there is no force in the world that could stop him.

[miss-ali-lawliet]

Anya's background!

Hello! I am so excited to talk about my latest oc, my beloved Anya! She is paired with Laios, and a part of me is interested in possibly writing about what it would be like with her in the party! For this post I’ll tell y'all about some background info on her, I'll have a separate post most likely about her relationship with the party and specifically Laios. The first picture is an art commission I got made by Jaijiggles on Instagram! Check them out! The end of the post sketch is made by myself!

Some basic things before delving in deeper

Her full name is Anastasia, but she prefers being called Anya. She's not even fully sure why, but it makes her happy.

Her parents are both elves, meaning she is an elf, but they also became poly when she was an adult! So she has a second mom, a human woman who fell in love with her mother mainly but also loves her father very much as well. Very healthy relationship.

Her Nana is a dwarf that isn’t blood related who lived with her and helped teach her everything she knows as well as her parents.

Anya was raised in the north, not the west, and with her influences, she grew up having general respect and admiration for all races and not just her own.

She is autistic! Her main special interest is nature and animals, having such a general love and respect for all living creatures, including monsters. 

Her special interest and because of her influences in her life, she would learn what she could to become a druid mage! She also handles healing, much like her Nana, but she offers a bit more offense with her magic mainly. Including being able to transform into animals. 

Despite being brief childhood friends, it was that friendship that pushed her to bask in her passions despite what outsiders may say or think.

Because as pretty as she may look, she would be classified as weird(yet she’s literally just autistic lol) that she grew to learn how to mask when around strangers a bit more, before she was reunited with her previous childhood friends when they arrived at the same island she had moved to not too long ago.

With them, she felt like she could freely be herself without judgment, and they could honestly say the same towards her.

She could be best comparable to a rabbit, which is also one of her many favorite animals.

She really loves fruits and veggies, and honestly she really isn’t a picky eater at all. 

She also really wasn’t opposed to eating monsters either, sure it’s odd, but if dungeons have their own sustaining ecosystems.. It had to be alright to benefit from something like that? And Laios was right! She supported him full-heartedly, trying to appease the other’s about their skepticism. Especially Marcille. 

It’s hard for her to pick a favorite monster, she absolutely loves Senshi’s cooking, but one of her favorite treats was the ghost sorbet, and dragon meat really is one of her favorites as well.

Background

Anastasia is an elf, yet she grew up raised in the north rather than the west. 

Before I move onto anything else, I’ll talk about her parents! Her mother is a powerful mage, even used to work with the royalty of the elves. Her father mainly focused on combat, his favorite weapon being his trusty bow and arrow. Both elves that lived in the West for a long time, but they felt themselves growing disdain with the treatment of other races from the elves point of view. Her mother always liked tallmen/women, and thought the races were just as brilliant in their own shared ways (she is neurodivergent, which did pass down to her daughter) and her father found himself sympathizing with her views.

So what did they do? They decided to leave, heading to the North where they would join an adventurer’s party together to make more of a living. The party had become a bit of a found family in a way, and her mother was particularly close with a dwarven female named Mirja. 

They had a good life together that way for a while until it was discovered that she was pregnant. It was a bit of a wake up call for the couple, that perhaps after the adventures they shared, the biggest one they’d have to tackle was parenthood, and they wanted to do it away from the dangers of the life they lived for a while now. 

So they would leave the party, but they wouldn’t leave empty handed. Mirja would insist on coming with them, that they would need all the help they could get. Dungeons and fighting monsters were one thing, but parenthood? She knew they needed the extra hands. With that, they would travel more north to try to find a home.

There they found a place to live, and they had their daughter, Anastasia!

They would raise her there for a long time, but when she got older they would eventually have to leave her childhood home due to unfortunate circumstances, which had an ex party member suggest a certain village to live near temporarily with some of that party member’s family there. 

Anya’s family found themselves staying near the same village that Laios and Falin Lived in. From the elf girl’s wandering around until coming across the siblings. Despite being there for a short time, she had spent so much of her time with them both, being each other’s real first friends. Their friendships were something that Anya held close to her heart and cherished deeply, they had such a deep impact on her that she held onto into her adulthood.

She had so many good memories with them, that it really was devastating for the three of them when she had to leave. She wished that she could see them again one day, and she vowed to herself that she would come back to the village in the future if necessary. 

Her family found their new proper home on a farm, and from there the young elf would continue to learn from her family. She was essentially home-schooled, learning from her mother and her mage work as well as from Mirja who was a druid-cleric.

For years, she was so dedicated to her work that once she left home she would move to start with taking on jobs to help her get experience.

They weren’t crazy jobs, but it was enough for her to try to ‘learn’ to be normal and get better with her magic. Years passed like this, her moving between groups and people, until she would finally move to the Island. It’s on that island, when staying in inns that she would come across two newcomers to the island one day. It was Laios and Falin! 

After being reunited with them, they would of course decide to all move in together so they could be able to afford someplace decent while also starting to take on work together!

They eventually would join their first party together with Shuro, Namari, Chilchuck, and Marcille, leading to the events we all know. 

I think I'll end this right here before it gets too long! I hope you all are having a great rest of your day/night!

[manias-wordcount]

Sweet Dreams (Loid Forger)

Kinktober 2022 Day One: Sleepy

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

You can’t remember when you dozed off.

It could have been a couple have seconds ago. Maybe even minutes. Or perhaps a whole hour had gone by at this point. But all you know is that by the time you finally realized that you’re no longer in a soft, sweet little dreamworld, Loid had already littered your neck with soft kisses and tiny love bites that were sure to get you in trouble at work. Not that you could bring yourself to care about things like that. Especially now that he realized that you’ve woken up too. 

 It’s still pitch black outside. The tiny slivers of moonlight streaming in front of the window parked right in front of your king-sized bed made sure you realized that it was still nighttime. It must be hours before you have to wake up and start the day. Hours before you have to think about breakfast or your commute or all the papers that you left sitting on your desk last night. But now, all you can think about is the warm hands that are rolling up and down your body as your eyes adjust to the darkness. The hands that are accompanied by even more kisses than you could ever hope for as the sheets rustle and rustle with every move he makes. The hands that find your hips and your waist and give them a squeeze before turning you onto your back while still keeping impossibly close. 

 The hands that situate themselves on your thigh and on your clit, reminding you of the rapidly hardening cock still buried in your insides. 

 It’s impossible to suppress the harsh breath you let out as Loid thrusts into your spent cunt for the umpteenth time. How many rounds has it been? Is this three or four? You’re the farthest thing for sure at this point. The two of you were determined to go at it when he got home and Anya was finally tucked in for the night. But your passionate night quickly turned sleepy as his strokes became slower and slower rather than the intense speed you were so used to. And you remember laughing at him softly. Telling him that you’re surprised that stamina of his had even managed to run so low considering how much work he puts into his job. But you don’t exactly remember laughing when he suddenly pulled out and attached his mouth to your pussy for the longest time. In fact, you distinctly remember cumming so hard you saw white. 

 But that wasn’t the end of your night. Not by a long shot.

 He was quick to stick it back inside you at your insistence. And he was even quicker to fall onto all fours as his body crowded around your moaning and panting form- taking advantage of the angle to still hit deeper inside you without as much effort. And even though you were losing the strength to keep your eyes open and on him, you still found it in yourself to wrap your legs around his torso as he shot his load deep inside of you, ensuring that you were able to keep everything he gave you. Just the way he liked it.

 But sometime between now and that moment, you both must have fallen asleep. Maybe it was the sound of his breathing right in your ear as he moved from between your legs to pressing himself against your back, never letting his cock slip from your puffy folds in the process. Or maybe it was the beat of his heart slowing down as you both of you stilled from your activities and found comfort in each other’s warmth instead of intimate touches for a moment. 

 But a quick look at the digital clock parked on your nightstand tells you that it’s early, early in the morning. It also told you that the two of you had technically been at it for hours- way longer than you thought you would be. And though your mind is still hazy with sleep you couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Loid was awake the entire time. Waiting for you to wake up from your slumber so you could both continue fucking like the rabbits you both essentially are. Or watching you in your most peaceful form- as if burning this memory of you in his head before he has to leave. But you don’t want to think about things like that. 

 And frankly, based on his reaction, you have a feeling he doesn’t want you to think about that either. 

 Because it’s almost as if he reading your mind when he leans down and onto his forearms to kiss you deeply. And even though the kiss is slow, it moves in time with his every roll of the hips to take your breath away. And even though the kiss was sudden, it's purposeful in every little nibble on your bottom lip and every little brush of tongue you feel in this moment. So when he pulls away, you can’t help but feel like you miss him already. But he doesn’t let you. He doesn’t let you miss him. Not when he can have you love him instead. 

 So he gives it to you harder. Better. Faster. More intense. He leans back on his knees, and he grips the undersides of your thighs. He folds you in half, and he snaps his cock inside of you. And he does it as if you two never fell asleep before becoming fully satisfied. He does it as if you two didn’t just wake up to just continue making love. He does it as if he’s not going to disappear one day. As if you’re not going to disappear one day too.

 Oh, but you can’t be too sure. Not with the state of the world. Not with the life that you live. Not with your husband known as Loid Forger. And certainly not with Twilight, your lover. So for now, you try not to think about it. Just like you try not to think about report cards and dinner for the week. No, you just lie back, and you look up at the face above you. The furrowed eyebrows show deep concentration and effort with the messy blonde hair that usually looks so nice and neat. The mouth that only parts to give you words of praise in between the occasional moan. And the blue eyes that tell you so, so, so much. Just with one little look.

 You decide that you should be the one to burn this image into your memories. And burn in it your memories, you shall. Because with the life you lead…

 It’s practically a dream to get an opportunity as sweet as this. 

[faline-cat444]

An image of what seems to be the main cast for Wonderful.When it comes to the little bit of details being expressed so far it's a mix of weirdness but I generally have a good feeling over the upcoming season's theme and execution.The main idea is showing us that our leading Cure is actually a dog who gains the ability to transform into a human girl and of course a Pretty Cure.I can excuse her name being Cure Wonderful thanks to that,if anything thanks to the pun it might be better off calling her Cure Wan-Derful.

For past experiences her voice actor has taken credit for that's a character I know she's supposed to be Kanna from Dragon Maid.So using that for reference this isn't her first time dealing with what I think can classify as "Shapeshifter".Her dog genetics also say she's the Papillon breed which being more of a cat person I don't really have much experience to but a page on the American Kennel Club website did provide some handy statistics that might be worked into her character.

As I said already the naming scheme for the initial Cure Status Quo feels a bit weak compared to the motifs of previous seasons but I can excuse that when your team leader is an actual dog most of the time.

Bringing us to our next most major Cure we have a bit more info on,Iroha Inukai aka Friendy.Her name in magical girl form is likely rooted to how dogs get referred to as "Man's Best Friend".

Design-Wise I'm not quite sold on her default outfit and hope the fashion she'll get later on(When the seasons change or similar) and I think the hat would look better if it covered her whole head rather than being a tiny thing on the side.Her voice apparently being who does Anya [Forger] among a few other characters makes me really want her to be worthy of my ever expanding list of favorites and shows this isn't her first time being a magical girl or dealing with a weird dog.

Similar to the season we're closing off on we don't have true details for Nyammy and Lillian but it isn't too hard to put the clues together.

"Nyammy" contains Nya which is how Japan tends to express what English would call "meow".There is a white cat named Yuki present along with her owner,Mayu Nekoshiyama.

The pink ribbon placements sort of remind me how Blake concealed her cat ears in the first volumes of RWBY.With how order is place in the quartet Yuki is going to be the one who transforms first followed by her owner.Not too sure how much of a time skip this will be in the grand scheme but the little bit of info presently given on Mayu says she recently moved into the town."Lillian" might also be an odd choice of name considering the limited knowledge at the moment for it's a name that seems rather human instead of descriptive or constructive(Then again,Laura just used her last name) and seeing the meaning of it as a girl's name it's supposed to give a sense of peace and passion but at the same time it's based on lily flowers...Which I have seen several informative sources say are HIGHLY TOXIC TO CATS and it might be very telling that a cat is possibly implied to have assisted in her owner's Cure name.

Our last duo in the visual is currently more for the hypothetical theories right now than outright stated from initial visual choices.If it's going the way they're wanting us to think they're who I am really pinning the money on.

Glasses Boy is Satoru Usayama while his bunny's name is Daifuku

The former is definitely hinting to have a lot of those marks I said I'd want for a male cure successor for Tsubasa:

Classmate to one of the main characters(So he does attend the school)

Outfit hints he's going to fill the niche of the yellow/orange/gold member to the team

Ends up needing to be a secret keeper about the girls' being Pretty Cure

If he keeps his glasses or they turn into a monocle when the time comes and everything checks out that's perfection in my book.In regards to his rabbit...

Apparently that's one brave bunny not that I can read that going by the facial expression the first impression is giving.Need to wait for the show proper to truly see the loppy lapin in action.

Now for the final shreds of detail that more-or-less are "public"...

Whatever role these animals will be serving they very much seem a bit like an extended cast including recolors of the animals from Healin' Good

Lastly is our first shot at one of our monsters of the episode which this time around are starting out with the name of "Garugaru"

This might very well be best viewed as the Pretty Cure spin on some subject matters Animal Detectives Kiruminzuu dealt with and all we have to do is wait for the fourth of February to see it start to unfold

[darkwing-katy]

Ohhhhh, I had a Lost character in mind, but actually, if you have any fun thoughts on Anyanka from BTVS, could you share? 002 in the ask game

Link to the ask game here (I hope—been a while since I linked stuff on here)

How I feel about this character: Anya is sooooo underrated at times. Like she’s ridiculous and a bit psychotic but she was a literal vengeance demon and I love that about her. I love that she becomes human and has to learn how to be human. Her monologue in “The Body” makes me sob every time because she’s feeling something for the first time and it’s just…poignant. Anya is also so fucking funny. I drew a really bad comic once where I sent her fanart that was a bunch of pictures of bunnies and she freaked out. She’s not my favorite character, but I appreciate her and was shook when she didn’t make it out by the end of the series.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: like, I ship her and Xander, but I am forever pissed off that he ditched her.

My non-romantic OTP: I don’t know if I really have one for Anya, but I really like her interactions with Giles when she works for him. I dunno, I think they have a fun relationship. And I feel like I remember something fun between her and Spike, but it’s been a long time since I last watched the show so I could be misremembering.

Unpopular opinion: I don’t think I have one that I can think of right now, alas.

Something I wish had happened in canon: Xander hadn’t left her at the altar and she survived the end of the series.

My OTP: Again, I guess Anya and Xander?

My crossover ship: I don’t really have one for Anya, but having her interact with almost anyone in different fandoms would be hilarious. I think it’d be hilarious to have her interact with the Twelfth Doctor.

A head canon fact: weirdly enough, I don’t think I have one, but now I wanna rewatch the whole series to see if I can come up with something!

Thanks for asking!!!! I’ve been thinking of doing a BTVS rewatch for a while now and this is motivating me to do it!

Also random side note—I’m so amused that you chose Anyanka of all characters because I named a rabbit after her in my LOST fanfic

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Tuesday, May 28

Anya: Piano! Xander: Because that's what we used to kill that big demon that one time!Xander: No wait, that-that was a rocket launcher. (turns to Anya) Ahn, what are you talking about? Anya: We should drop a piano on her. Well, it always works for that creepy cartoon rabbit when he's running from that nice man with the speech impediment.

~~Buffy Season 5 Episode #98: "Spiral"~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Come Home To Me (Buffy/Faith, G) by Resplendence_Of_Starlight

Void if ..... (Xander, M, Aladdin xover) by JadeWine

Cool Lips, Cold Stone (Buffy/Faith, T) by bitterxox

Mr. Snuggluffagus (Buffy, Willow, Xander, T) by JadeWine

Cigarettes are meant for two (Spike/Reader, unrated) by WhiteMonsterEnergy

Sunnydale Pawnshop (Xander, T, Evil Dead xover) by samsas

[Chaptered Fiction]

Unicorn Ch. 1 (Buffy/Angel, Buffy/SPike, T) by desicat

Happiest Place Ch. 1-8/8 COMPLETE (Angel/Cordelia, AtS Ensemble,) by julianblackthornspancakes

Where goes the Heart? CH. 1 () by skhwriter

Disease Ch. 3/4 (Buffy/Giles, E) by guin_ramble

Cultivating Chaos Ch. 17 (Ensemble, M) by BunnyQuill

The Boring Stuff: Halloween Ch. 2 (Buffy/Angel, M) by missfiggy

Broken Curses Ch 1-22/22 COMPLETE (Xander, Fanged Four, Same Lawson, E) by Ihatechoosinganame

Shadow Over Hellmouth Ch. 110/252 (Buffy/Tara, Ensemble, ) by Tuxedo_Mark

I hate the way Ch. 15 (Buffy/Giles , E) by DancingAngel0013

In the Company of Witches and Slayers: Ch. 49/200 (Willow/Tara, Ensemble, E) by VladimirHarkonnen (TheLightdancer)

In the Dark of the Night Ch. 11 (Buffy/Spike, M) by norik23

To the Skylark, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, M) by squiddz

See You Yesterday, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, M) by all choseny

Love Bites But So Do I, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, E) by CheekyKitten

Something Lingers, Chapter 25 (Buffy/Spike, E) by goodbyetoyou

Deliverance From Destiny, Chapter 15 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Ragini

The Watcher, Chapter 11 (Buffy/Spike, E) by In Mortal

Stranger in her Body, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Desicat

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Artwork:Illustration for elysianholly‛s "The Writing on the Wall" () by isevery0nehereverystoned

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Playlist:A Playlist for Buffy () by gothhobbithoe

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[Reviews & Recaps]

Real Me (BTVS 5.02) by buffster

Are You Now or Have You Ever Been (ATS 2.02) by buffster

Judgement (ATS 2.01) by buffster

PODCAST: ATS 216 - Epiphany by Another Buffy Podcast

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I’ve just realized what I actually find icky about Buffy and Angel. by reality-schmality

I just fucking hate how often the show paints Buffy as being in the wrong. by reality-schmality

You want to know why I love Spike so goddamn much? His redemption arc. by reality-schmality

I love Dawn and I love wondering how the early years might have been different with her involved. by reality-schmality

the fact of the matter is that buffy ends up isolated no matter what the scoobies do by greensaplinggrace

the most frustrating thing about the whole spike situation is that the scoobies act stupid as fucking hell about it. by greensaplinggrace

people in the btvs fandom will act like angel was buffy’s one eternal true best love and nothing else compares by greensaplinggrace

dawn summers, at 14, learned she wasnt originally human and that all of her memories were fake by leechjam

Still thinking about Buffy and Anne helping each other find themselves in Anne. by thechosenthree

ok so like. i watched the episode of buffy where the swim team turns into fish monsters alá chemicals in the steam room and. by girlboydotjpg

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Sometime I get lost wondering if Buffy ever invited Faith to live with her and Joyce. by reality-schmality

coming back for the WIP game: tell me something about Coffeehouse AU that I don’t know by somekindofadeviant

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Cowboy Guy by Al_Bee

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[bumblebuzzzz]

have you considered that this song is a song for the forger family (mostly and loid and anya story) from the POV of loid? I have.

I think the beginning of the song, the forger family is hanging out having a Normal Day but something happens and they find out Anya can read minds. Anya explains everything about her powers and even mentioning that bond can see the future as well. loid realizes that "oh wow my kid has known all this time and she has been hiding it. she could be a great spy (<- does not want that, actually) and he kinda kicks himself for that being his first thought "she's gonna be a lot like me, but I don't want to be at all like me"

she is bawlling about this cause shes terrified that shes going to be sent away again (or killed cause mama is an assassin) but yor says "stranger things than death can happen to labrat girls and pretty white dogs [rabbits]" trying to comfort her kid. reassuring her that she's going to be okay and she's staying right with her family. from there, loid tells wise that his daughter reads minds, it takes some convincing but he eventually gets through to them that, no he isn't joking and yes, he is serious. he's seen some shit and after looking into it a bit more that yeah holy shit lab rat girl. this isn't his first Christmas, he knows a mistletoe when he sees it and all that. after that, loid tells her to play along. wise knows what's going on and they want to run a few tests and such. Anya FREAKS the FUCK out but she calms down (a little) after loid starts joking with her. eventually he ends up making the joke "well afterwards will you tell me if I'm still pretty?"

he thinks it's a lousy joke but Anya lights up and starts laughing and laughing. she loves it. it calms her down enough for her to take some tests and wise to get the information they need. but every time they go in, anya comes out looking worse and worse.

then loid begins to realize that they are taking advantage of his kid. he's realized that this isn't "just for the mission" at this point and now he's worried that his daughter is getting hurt. he knows she hates these tests but he's still taking her. and he starts to question why.

he ends up talking to yor about everything, being a spy, where hes been taking anya, and what he thinks wise is doing to their girl.

yor is lowkey pissed. how dare they even lay a hand on anya, and she kinda goes off on him, saying that what wise is doing is wrong. she isn't a tool for some non-existent war and that Anya is the best thing to happen for both of them. they need to look back at what their family has really been like. (look through the pockets of the hand me downs we've layed out) and he needs to start thinking about his life as a father and a husband.

at some point, weather it be when yor called him on his shit or when anya comes out of the testing room in near tears, loid realizes what he's doing is wrong.

and he leaves wise.

and they are nooot happy about it. they keep trying to stalk him and his family and they keep getting into all of their business. and so now loid has explained to Anya what's going on. that these people are "old friends" and they aren't very nice. so he needs her to be on her best behavior and be very very careful. just play along. Anya, who obviously is still scared cause she's like. 5, loid repets that bad joke he made at the start of this whole thing "and afterwards will you tell me if I'm still pretty?" a while has passed and they've gotten somewhat comfortable. they are still being stalked by wise but they haven't made any big moves. and one day, Anya and yor have come home from walking bond, she's recently gotten a bike, but she's scraped her knee. they get it cleaned up and she's taken back home and tucked into bed for the night. and wise makes their move. they attack the forger household, and yor and loid have to start fighting, they both have been in large scale fight before but this one particularly hurts loid. these are the people who he's been working with for years and now he has to fight them?? because they won't just let him be happy?? with his family?? eventually they are outnumbered and they have to take Anya and run. Anya is confused and scared and she doesn't know what's going on. loid figures that, while she is a smart ass kid, she needs something less scary right now.

it's a game of intense tag, he needs to run away from everyone and then they will all win! (just like in the first or second episode) they run and run, all the while loid is kicking himself in the ass, what's wrong with him? how did he let this happen?? wise is still on their tail and eventually they've been surrounded. loid and yor are good but they are just two people. they keep fighting, trying to protect their daughter but. eventually they get taken out. yor was too lethal so she ended up having to be killed. bond was muzzled. and loid was subdued and Anya was taken away. as Anya is being taken away from him, he wants to hold her, tell her things are going to be okay, hell he'd even make that stupid joke again if it could make her laugh, but he's too stricken with grief and regret to word it properly. all he can say is "could you tell me how"

this plays in my mind every time i hear this song and it drives me mad /pos

[skyfallslayer]

The Devils Are Caught In Red Strings || Chapter 3: Rabbit In A Snowstorm

-Matt Murdock x Parker!OFC-

Series Masterlist

AO3 Link

♡Series Summary: Childhood friendships are a sacred thing... But so are secrets. This story revolves around a girl named Anya Hughes, an attorney by day and a vigilante by night. Join her into the struggles she’ll face, like her path coming back to haunt her, then facing a man who holds all the power, all while she develops a crush on her close friend. How long can she take all this until she falls apart? ♡

♡Chapter Summary: The lawyers take on a mysterious wealthy client, but Matt’s convinced there’s more to this case than just facts. Meanwhile, Anya deals with strange occurrences happening in her life. ♡

♡Date: 2/8 ♡

♡Rating: Explicit ♡

♡Word Count: 9,941 ♡

♡Warning: Minor Blood; Violence, Language; Sexist Comments; Suicide Near The End; Lying; Implied Stalking/Stalker; Hush Money; Talks of Murder; References To Being Killed/Almost Dying; Blackmail; implied panic Attack; Spoilers for the show; Canon Typical Violence; READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!! ♡

♡A/N: So this one is a little bit shorter than I normally write. Probably because I cut out some scenes with Ben Urich that I didn't feel was necessary to write about. Even though this shorter, I feel like this where the true fun begins as Fisk enters the Vigilantes' radars. Enjoy!♡

There was bloody flesh beneath her fingertips; the crusting over wound was still present on her collarbone. She frowns, already opening the medicine cabinet for disinfectant and a clean bandage. 

Thought it’ll be healed by now. Must have been deeper than I thought. She realizes with a worried feeling.

Last night… sucked. Her retrieval mission was a bust, then she’s temporarily blinded, then meets a nurse who knows who she is, THEN she runs into a pain in the ass vigilante that she for some reason came up with the idea to work together (To an extent, that is). 

I sure hope he compromises like promised. She finishes with the patch up, picking her phone up off the counter and walks into her room where her clothes are laid out gently on the bed. While getting ready she listens to the news on her phone, hopefully pleading that it’ll be good on that side of the city.

.

{ - Avengers are holding a party at Stark Tower later this week, and the paparazzi are dying to get a peek inside. But how do you sneak into a place like that? - }

.

Anya rolls her eyes while buttoning her blouse.

No matter where you are in this city, they always wiggle their way into the news.

.

{ - In other news that’s rather unfortunate, the city of Queens is losing its charity group, F.E.A.S.T– - }

.

Her movements faltered into a complete stop. Did she just… hear that right?

.

{ - The city’s councilmen decided it would be best to close up for good after not being able to raise enough money. Queens Local helper, Maybelle Parker, expresses her deep sadness that she’ll not be able to help out anymore after doing this since she was teenager. Other locals are expressing their own– - }

.

Anya turns her phone off with a deep frown. That was not the best news to start off her day. Especially when she knew that local… personally. She bites gently on the tip of her thumb, thinking.

Maybe I could send her some money anonymously? But she immediately swatted that idea away when she realized if she could give some of her inheritance money away it wouldn’t be enough to keep that place open.

She sighs, shaking her head before another light bulb goes off.

Speaking of money…

She finishes getting dressed, grabbing her bag, slipping on her heels by the door to leave. She took a quick trip down the elevator and a sharp turn for her landlord’s office, her hand wiggling around inside her bag’s pocket. 

“Mr. Hawthorne.” She calls out, getting his attention just as he was coming out.

“Ah, Miss Hughes. What can I do for you?” The older man asked, smiling gently.

“Just giving you the rent for the month.” She replies, fishing out the already written out check. To her complete surprise, he declines.

“No need, Miss Hughes. Your rent’s already covered.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Yeah, a gentleman came by and paid for it.”

“Who?”

“Didn’t catch a name. But he was nicely dressed in a suit and tie. Says he was a friend of yours.”

She blinks again. “Huh…”

She wasn’t expecting that either this morning as she pinched her brows together in thought.

Why would they pay my rent?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

A car pulls in close to another one, getting a clear look at the Hudson river only a few feet away. The sharp dressed man gets out of his car, slowly approaching the person he’s supposed to meet.

His guest looked at him with surprise. “Thought you'd forgotten about me, Urich.” He said with a smoker’s voice.

The man chuckles. “Never happen.”

“I don't know. People's memories these days ain't so good.” He sighs, before pointing to the city lined up in front of him over the water. “Back in the day, I couldn't wait to see this view. Me and the boys, driving in Friday nights. Kings of the castle.”

“Kings don't have bodies in the trunk.”

“Tell that to Macbeth.”

Another laugh. “What's this about you moving to Florida?”

“Did you hear about Rigoletto?” The man asked.

“Heard he retired.” Urich replies.

“Yeah… in pieces.”

Urich’s joyful expression faded into something concerning. “Somebody putting it to you?”

“You know the rules.”

“Is it the Russians?”

“The rules. You go first… and then maybe I got something to say. That's the way it's always been.”

Urich nods in understanding. “Russians got a bee up their ass. Somebody's been hitting them… hard. Mostly around the docks.”

“Wasn't Rigoletto, if that’s what you're thinking.” The man said, frowning.

“So who are we looking at?”

“You tell me.”

“I don't know. Been scratching at it. Police reports get altered. Public records, too. But I know a pattern when it shoves a thumb in my eye.” Urich pauses to think. “A new player, maybe?”

The man sighs. “Used to be if you killed a man, you sent his wife flowers. Now they just send his wife with him.”

That got his interest piqued. “You know something, don't you?”

“Yeah. Florida's beautiful this time of year.”

Urich sighs. “The rules.”

The man shakes his head. “There are no rules, Benny. Not anymore.”

“So that's it? That's all I get?”

“You know, when I went away to do my 10, every newspaper in town dragged my name through the shit. You were the only one who did it… without mentioning my kids.” He gets choked up at the thought. “Always grateful for that.”

“Then give me something.” Urich pleads. “A name, anything.”

“Take a pass on this one, Benny. Some fights will just get you bloody.” He said, patting him on the shoulder to leave.

Leaving the reporter alone with his thoughts and theories.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It seems like everyone’s day was going to start off unusual. Karen arrives early, sitting on her makeshift desk as she stares in shock at a letter addressed for her. She only hides it away when the front door opens.

Foggy closes the door, a look of regret on his face as he holds his coffee cup close. “You know the whole, ‘Let's stay out all night’ thing?” He begins, watching her stand up.

“Yeah.” She begins, plastering an innocent face on, listening.

“How about next time we skip the part with the eel?”

Karen chuckles, nodding. “Deal.”

The door opens again, letting in a tired looking Anya Hughes. “Sounds like you kids had fun.” She teased, coming up to them.

Karen’s genuine smile grew. “Yeah, we did.” Her face dropped into concern immediately. “Hey, you okay?”

Green eyes blinked puzzledly. “Huh?”

“You’re collar bone.” The blonde continues, pointing to her own to make a point.

Anya quickly looks down, spotting the small bandage she thought her shirt covered. She tries not to look flustered as she could feel her friend’s worried gazes. “Oh, yeah. I…” She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know how I did that.”

Foggy snorts. “Cause you’re klutzy, and your mind’s always in the clouds.”

She narrows her eyes, humorously. “You trying to tell me something, Nelson?”

“Maybe…” He trails off, redirecting the conversation to something else. “Hey, what do you think about getting a sign on the door?”

“Well, you got a sign.” Karen replies, her and Anya sending him a look.

“A real one.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “You should get some clients first.”

“Just one little sign. What could it cost?”

The response made Karen laugh a little. “Frank, you can barely afford to pay me.”

Foggy raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were working for free.”

“I… I did… for a day.”

Anya sighs. “Fine… I guess we could pay you.” She humors, rolling her eyes for added effect. 

Karen giggles. “Well, thank you. I guess...”

Foggy stares at his college friend. “With what money?”

“I have money, you know.” Anya replies, already seeing him shake his head. 

“No. No. No.” He sets his things down before giving her full attention. “Me and Matt told you that you’re done paying for our business.” He looks back at Karen, getting her into the loop. “She got a crazy amount of inheritance money.”

Anya holds up her hand in defense. “Okay, he’s making me sound like I’m a billionaire, which I am far from being. I just have enough to live comfortably for a few years.”

“Exactly!” He exclaims, walking around. “Which is why I’m not allowing you to blow it all on us. We’ll make something work. I promise.”

Anya rolls her eyes and quickly mouths, “I’ll pay you”, making Karen smile.

Matt soon walks in, doing his usual routine of setting his cane and bag down by the door.

“Hey you know she's not really free?” Foggy asks, earning a light slap on his arm by the blonde. Soon the jokes died down again seeing the giant bruise forming under their blind friend’s eye. “Jesus. What happened to your eye?”

“Oh.” Matt said, slightly off guard by the question.

“Are you okay?” Anya asked, worriedly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just wasn't paying attention last night. It's my fault.”

“Sounds familiar.” Karen said, casting a look at her.

Foggy nods at that, before pointing between the two. “Seriously, what’s with the two of you? I know you’re childhood friends but it’s getting a little weird.” He sighs. “You need a dog, Matt.”

Matt scoffs. “I'm not getting a dog.”

“What? You don't like dogs? Who doesn't like dogs?” He asked, sounding offended (but he just likes the sound of having a dog in the office).

“I… I love dogs.” Karen adds.

“Everybody loves dogs.” Anya finishes.

The blind lawyer shakes his head, seeing through their intentions. Suddenly, there was a firm knock on the door, surprising them all.

“Was that a knock?” Foggy said, everyone looking like a deer in headlights.

“Someone's at the door.” Matt clarifies.

Anya blinks. “Our door?”

“Uh…” He shifts his stance. “Karen?”

It took a blonde a moment to realize that she has a job. She nods slowly. “Right.” She begins, a smile slowly growing. “Okay.”

Her heels clicking over to the door, opening it wide enough to watch their visitor turn around, a sly expression on his face.

“Hi.” He said, coming inside. “Do you do walk-ins?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

They lawyers and the assistant sat at the table in front of their possible, very well mannered and dressed, client talk unafraid about his proposal.

“I represent a consortium with diversified interests in the private sector, both domestic and international. From time to time, we scout the landscape for promising talent to put on retainer.” He explains, which made the Columbia graduates amused.

Foggy chuckles. “Retainer?” He asked, getting a nod of confirmation.

“Why are you approaching us?” Matt asked, quickly with a facade of comfort on his features. “Why not a larger firm, Mr…?”

“Uh, Confederated Global Investments is my employer.” The man replies back hoping to turn this around.

“That's not what I was asking.”

“It's the only name relevant to this discussion, Mr. Murdock.”

“Oh…”

“But, why us?” Anya asked, suspicious as well.

The man opens his mouth to speak, almost surprised by their straightforwardness, but Foggy being the person he is tries to… “polish” his partners words up.

“Ob-Obviously, the larger firms aren't able to… provide the same hands-on attention that we pride ourselves on at Nelson, Hughes and Murdock.” The sandy haired man explains earning another nod from their guest.

“It's a fair question.” He agrees, sitting up straighter. “I'm here because my employer does extensive business in Hell's Kitchen, and who knows it better than three locals who graduated from Columbia Law, cum laude and summa cum laude?

“Uh, the ‘summa’ part is politics.” Foggy said to light the room, which got a laugh.

The man’s smile grows brighter, almost proud at what he was hearing. “You set up shop right here in your backyard despite the fact that all of you were made a very lucrative offer from Landman and Zack in Manhattan where you interned.”

“You've done your homework.” Matt said, his mask going back on after slipping away for a second.

The man shrugs nonchalantly. “My employer expects no less.”

“Then forgive me for being blunt.”

“Uh, ‘B-Blunt’ is a strong word.” Foggy says, nervously.

“In my line of work, I find it refreshing.”

“What is that line of work exactly?” Anya fires back not even hiding her distrusting look.

“What my partners are trying to say is… we're still building a practice, so we're very particular about our clientele.” Foggy intercepts.

“I assure you, all my employer wants is for you to continue to be ethical, decent men and a woman and good lawyers. And for that, for nothing more than your exceptional skills and your discretion…” He reaches into his suit jacket to pull out an envelope, laying it flat on the table and sliding it closer to them. “You'll be fairly compensated.”

Foggy grabs it first, carefully opening it to find a check. It took all his strength to not let his eyes bug out of his head. “Uh-huh. It's… It's fair. That's… that's fair.” He stutters, flashing it to Anya who had the same look when her eyes locked on the numbers.

“Your partner doesn't seem convinced.” The man said, talking about Matt.

“Partners.” Anya corrects.

“Like Foggy said, we're particular about our clientele.” The blind lawyer replies.

The man almost found it funny, and smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I'm curious about your… clientele. Do they all end up working for you after you get them off for murder or just the pretty ones?”

The one question shifted the mood in the lawyers, all suddenly hit with a sense of bitterness, protectiveness and (even more) suspicion. They all gripped whatever they were holding tighter as they glared at their guest.

Matt looked in Karen’s direction who seemed uncomfortable about his retort; and calmly asked, “You, uh, give us a minute, please?”

Karen swallows and nods slowly as she gets up from her seat. Her blue eyes were locked onto the floor the whole time as she walked out the door.

Their guest frowns, adjusting his glasses as he looks ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to upset anyone.”

“How did you know about Miss Page's situation?” Matt goes straight to the point. “She was never charged. There was nothing in the papers.”

“I have friends on the force. I hear I'm not the only one.”

Anya tilts her head. “How do you know about that?”

Foggy nervously laughs under his breath. “I think we might be veering off the subject.”

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Murdock, and even to you, Miss Hughes. Perhaps… you should all review one of our cases… before you make a decision? Peace of mind and whatnot.” He said, which Foggy agrees to.

“T-That's a fantastic idea. Guys?”

Anya just shrugs, and Matt replies with, “Yeah, what harm could it do?”

“Excellent.” The man said, joyfully. “You have…” He pulls up his sleeves to look at his Cartier watch. “38 minutes to get to Precinct 15.”

Anya blinks while watching him gather his things. “Pardon?”

“What? Now? What's the case?” Foggy asked, being handed over a folder.

“Everything you need is in this file.” He replies, standing up at the same time the trio did. “Thank you for your time.”

“No. Thank you.”

The man opens the door, pausing briefly to look back at them. “Oh, and Miss Hughes.” He begins, getting her attention. “My condolences. I heard about what happened to your family. They were such lovely people.”

The woman stares at him with confusion as the door closes behind him. She soon felt her friend’s eyes all on her.

“Ann, do you know that man?” Matt asked, with borderline suspicion. 

She shakes her head. “No. I don’t. I mean I… I don’t think so.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that was a little weird, but what is your guys’ problem?” Foggy asked, sounding like a scolding parent. 

“He wouldn't even give us his name, Foggy.” Matt replied.

“You wouldn't care if you could see the zeroes on this check.”

“Yeah, maybe you would if you couldn't.”

“We're running out of time.”

“I'll meet you there.” Matt announces, grabbing his cane as heads for the exit.

Foggy snaps his head in his direction, confused. “Meet me? The hell are you going?” He asked, but was ignored. “Matt!”

“Matt, what the fuck, man?!” Anya yells next just as he was out of the office, disappearing down the hall. She scoffs, running a hand through her curly locks.

“What the fuck crawled up his ass?” 

“I have no idea.”

“I guess we’ll meet him there.” He lets out a heavy sigh as he gathers his own things. “I don’t know how we’re going to get there in less than forty minutes. Jesus.”

“I drove my car. We can just take that.” 

“Oh, thank god, Hughes. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Oh, I try to be.” She starts grabbing her own things, only pausing briefly when she catches a lingering whiff of something.

Do I smell… blood?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, Matt is following a long distance behind the man, following the sound of his ticking watch. Matt only stops when he hears him getting into the car, eavesdropping.

“It's been taken care of, sir.”

Matt thought about pursuing when heard three cars heading off at the same time, but as he moved ever so slightly he could feel the stitches on his right side pop, making crimson stain his pearly white shirt. He clenches his jaw, using his hand to button his jacket back up. He soon spins on his heels, back in the direction where he’ll have to make a quick stop back at his apartment.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Foggy and Anya sat in front of their potential client, who already had a crazy look in his eyes that overlooked his neutral expression. He was still bruised and bloody, which made the two lawyers hide their discomfort. 

“So what exactly happened, Mr. Healy? In your own words.” Foggy begins, watching him carefully.

“All I wanted was to throw a few balls. The lady at the shoe counter will tell you the same.” The man, Mr. Healy said.

Foggy glanced at his notes. “She also says that you crushed the deceased's skull with a bowling ball.”

“Self-defense. The man and his… whatever they were, they threatened my life.”

“They threatened you, how? Verbally? Physically?” Anya asked, getting a reply that shocks her.

“Which sounds better?” He asked with a tilt in his head.

She blinks. “I’m sorry?”

He takes a deep breath, and bats his eyes in an innocent way. “They threatened me both verbally and physically.”

The Lawyers take a quick look at each, both thinking the same thing.

Foggy clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “So… you say you… didn't know or have never met Mr–” He looks at his notes again quickly. “Prohaszka, Prior to last night?”

“No, but I do regret any injurious consequences my actions may have caused.” Healy replies, bluntly.

Foggy decided to humor him a little. “You have quite the legal vocabulary, Mr. Healy. Am I right in assuming this isn't your first rodeo?”

“I had issues.” His lip twitches into a half smile. “I'm better now.”

“Better… how, exactly?” Anya begins, in disbelief. “‘Cause, No offense, Mr. Healy, from your statement, you sound… unstable.”

“I can be as stable as you want, baby. Just give me the word.”

She purses her lips. “Mr. Healy–”

Foggy touches her shoulder to cut her off. “On second thought Mr. Healy,” He starts helping her get up. “Uh, perhaps our firm isn't the right fit for you.”

Suddenly, their third part walked in looking apologetic.

“Sorry I'm late.” Matt says, closing the door.

Foggy clears his throat again, putting his hand up to his friend’s chest for him to stop. “Oh, no, no. I was just explaining to Mr. Healy that, uh, we have a full caseload right now, so we–”

The brunette smiles. “We'd be happy to represent you, Mr. Healy.”

“What?”

“We're taking the case.”

“Matt…” Anya warns but he’s already taking a seat.

The blind man clears his throat, gesturing for their client to start. “Uh, why don't we start from the beginning? Tell me everything you know.”

And he ignores the heavy sighing from his friends.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After a few minutes of retelling the events, they all were settled back down in their chairs; Pens and notebooks in hand once more.

“Would you like us to reiterate the terms of attorney-client privilege, Mr. Healy?” Matt asks, listening.

He blinks innocently again. “Think I got it.”

“Then you know anything you tell us stays in this room.”

“Just like church.”

Matt fought the urge to latch on that comment, but he keeps his head straight, going for the prize. “You must be a very important man.”

“Is that a question?” Healy asked, skeptical.

“Statement. It's not every day a global investment firm picks up the tab for a murder suspect.”

“Self-defense.”

“I wonder if you could shed some light on the man that hired us to represent you.”

“Don't think I can, counselor.”

“Can't or you won't?” Matt pressures, feeling his partners’ eyes on him.

“Maybe we should focus on details pertinent to the case?” Foggy suggested.

“Just trying to build a solid defense, and the connection between Mr. Healy and the man that came to our offices might just help prove his innocence.”

“How?” Anya asked, confused.

Matt chuckles quietly. “Maybe they're old friends. Maybe he's a character witness. Or… maybe you were in his employment at the time of the incident.”

“I just wanted to throw a few balls, just like I keep saying.” Healy said, slowly building up a wall (A wall that everyone could now see clearly).

“You go bowling often, Mr. Healy?” Matt questioned, applying more pressure.

His face twitches. “When the mood hits.” 

“And the deceased, he had no motive that you recall?”

Healy exhales deeply, visibly tightening his muscles. “No.”

“You didn't provoke him intentionally or otherwise?” Foggy asked with a slight tilt in his head. 

“Are we breaking for lunch anytime soon?” Healy asked, gulping down the quiver at the end (Both Anya and Matt picked up at how his heart elevated).

“Are you at all afraid of what might happen if we lose this case, Mr. Healy?” Matt asked, keeping calm.

“No.” Then he smiles, creepily. “Are you?”

Foggy takes a deep breath. “Okay. Matt, Ann, a word, please?” He said, standing up. He stands in a far corner, only whispering what’s on his mind when they show up. “We should not be doing this.”

“Doing what?” Matt asked, ‘unaware’. 

“Defending professional criminals.”

“You're the one that keeps saying we need real clients.”

“That's not a client. It's a shark in a skin suit. You, and even she, pegged it back at the office. There's something off about this whole thing.”

Anya nods. “He’s got a point. Look, I too want to know what the fuck’s going on here, but this guy…” She points behind herself. “This guy gives me a really bad feeling, Matt.”

“Yeah!” Foggy defends. “This guy’s a total creep and he’s been really inappropriate since we first got here. Come on, man.”

“We agreed to represent him, guys.” Matt fires back, sternly. “We're gonna try this case and let the jury take it from there.”

Matt leaves first, making Anya throw her hands up and Foggy shake his head.

“Mr. Healy, uh–” He clears his throat while sitting back down. “I suggest we waive criminal procedure law 180.80, give the DA more time to explore a plea. In the meantime, the best thing for you to do is to be forthcoming with us. Together, we'll confront the charges honestly, openly and within the moral confines of the law. Does that sound good to you?”

Healy sighs. “No.”

“Excuse me?” Foggy said, flabbergasted. 

“I want the 180.80 date. If I'm indicted, which we know I will be, we'll waive all hearings and discovery and go directly to trial. Not my first rodeo, remember?”

“You'll need to testify.” Matt said, recollected himself.

“I'm just gonna have faith in our judicial system…” He looks over each and everyone of them, giving them an uncomfortable stare. “And you're gonna do your jobs.”

The two male lawyers held their replies on their tongues as Anya clears her throat, crossing her arms to hide her shiver. This man was… 

Evil.

“That simple?” Matt asked, already knowing the answer.

“That simple. And, uh… as for the man who hired you… all you need to know is his check's gonna clear.”

Anya felt herself twitch under his words, deciding maybe she had enough. She pushes herself up from her seat, replying before her friends could say anything. “Wrap up, I’m going to take a breather.”

She leaves the room, strutting down the hall until she finds a water fountain. She takes a long drink of the lukewarm beverage, before pulling back, hands still grasping the sides. She closes her eyes, taking a few inhales and exhales to get her heart to stop racing.

God, I haven’t felt that much evil since… She frowns heavily, a distant memory coming back painfully enough to give her goosebumps. 

Since my dad. 

She sighs again, bitter at herself for remembering all that. Her thoughts were put on hold when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She almost wonders if it's the guys asking where she is, but instead it’s something else. It’s a news article from Queens that read:

F.E.A.S.T IS NOW STAYING OPEN, THANKS TO A 1.5 MILLION 

DOLLAR DONATION BY ANONYMOUS SOURCE.

For yet another time today, she was battering her eyes in disbelief, and chills were running up and down her spine.

What… in the hell is going on today?

And that was the million dollar question. Because unbeknownst to her and her partners, the strange man that came into their office earlier was back at the bowling alley; Grabbing the gun that their new client, Mr. Healy had used to slaughter.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The trio walk back into their office. Anya, who was still stuck inside her own mind, plopped down in a nearby chair, while the boys went at it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell's going on with you?” Foggy asked, sounding like a parent scolding their child. “First you decide we're taking the case unilaterally and then you cross-examine the guy like we're playing bad cop/worse cop.”

“If we want to keep the lights on, we gotta take some cases for the money.” Matt explains, shrugging. “You were right about that.”

Foggy’s shoulders slacked, frowning. “Okay, for the record, this is the first time you've ever said I was right. I hate it.”

“Sometimes, we have to do things we aren't proud of.”

“Yeah, but…” Foggy struggles with the words. “This can't become what we do.”

Matt scratches the back of his neck, sheepishly. “Yeah, I know.”

“And we have to be on the same team, making decisions together.” 

Matt nods, looking truly sorry. “I got carried away. I'm sorry, Foggy.”

“It's okay.”

Matt puts his fist up, making Foggy chuckle, giving him a quick fistbump.

“So?” Matt said, all ears.

“Okay.” Foggy exhales, straightening his thoughts. “So assuming he's indicted, which, yeah, it's on the DA to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that it wasn't self-defense, shoe girl's DD-5 says that she didn't come out of the back room until after the fight had started, which helps us.”

“And what about Prohaszka's men?”

“They lawyered up. Wouldn't give a five.”

Matt cocks his head. “Since when do the victims of an assault not give a statement?”

“Another chit in our favor.” Foggy said, less amused. “Plus, Healy's pretty banged up. Argue defensive wounds, which makes it look more like a fight and less like an execution.”

“So, you open, I'll sum up. Anya can be our backup in case something goes south.” 

“That sounds good.”

“You okay with being the backup this time, Anya?” Matt asked, which got silence in return. “Anya?”

Foggy looks her way in confusion, which turned into concern when he saw her spacing out. “Uh, Hughes?” He said, snapping his fingers loudly which caught her gaze. “Did you hear what we said?”

She stares at him strangely. “Um…?”

“Are you okay with being the backup in the trial?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.” She said, sitting straighter as she rubs her eyes.

Matt frowns, coming to terms that she’s been acting like this since the Police station. “What’s on your mind, Ann?”

Anya sighs, deciding to just lay it all out there. “Did you guys pay my rent for this month?”

“No.” Foggy raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well, I went to pay for it earlier and my landlord said someone, a friend of mine apparently, already took care of it. Which… is a little weird to me.”

“Maybe, you had a good samaritan.” Matt said, but even he thought it was a little suspicious. 

“Maybe, but… why?” She asks, standing up. “I’m not struggling to pay rent, nor have I ever mentioned to anybody I ever was.”

“You ordered pizza the other night. Maybe you unintentionally seduced the pizza guy.” Foggy replies, trying to ease her worries. It worked, for a second when she chuckled.

“Yeah, I looked so sexy in my oversize pjs and my messed up hair.” She deflated again, thinking. “Maybe it was the guy in the suit earlier.”

Matt’s brows pushed together. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, I mean… he said that strange thing about my parents, which is… far from true, but still, he mentioned them. And why would he even bring that up to me?”

“Are you sure you don't recognize him?”

She shrugs. “Not that I recall. I don’t remember ever seeing him. But again, I was hardly ever home in my early age.”

Matt frowns at this. Being her childhood was enough for him to know that those scummy parents of hers were abusive. Abusive in what way was still a mystery to even him. And as for Foggy, who was copying his old roommate's expression, knew just as much as Matt (She sure didn’t like reliving that part of her life with anybody).

Foggy clenches his jaw for a moment, before putting on a little show. “You know, if they were still alive, I would fight them for making you miserable.”

Anya raises an eyebrow. “Fight with what, exactly?”

He holds his palms up. “With my hands. My fisticuffs.”

“Your fisticuffs?”

“Yeah! My most deadly weapon, Anya! No match for any mere mortal.”

That got her to smirk, and hold a hand over her heart. “Awe, thank you, my knight in shining wool.”

“You’re very welcome, milady.” He says with a bow. “And I even got a trusty sidekick by my side.”

“Sidekick?” Matt said, amused.

“Yeah. It’s time for me to be center stage, my friend.”

“And how do you expect me to fight?”

Foggy pointed to the object. “You’ve got your stick.”

“You expect me to fight with my walking stick?” Matt held it up, playing along.

“Yeah, it’s like a baseball bat.”

“Awe, I got two shining knights in wool.” Anya said, her spirits slightly lifted.

Which seemed to be enough for Foggy who continued to grin ear-to-ear. “See? She's loving it. We’ve got you back, Hughes.”

“Yeah, well I can’t see, but I can hear you smiling, so…” Matt replies, earning an eye roll from the Nelson, and a light jab to the arm.

“Stop with the blind jokes.” He chuckles.

“Oh, never.”

Anya laughs, walking closer to them. “Thanks for that. However, as much as I hate to be a Debbie downer, we probably should cash that check. And maybe have Karen see what she can find out about Confederated Global?”

“That’s probably a good Idea.” Matt agrees.

Foggy nods. “Yeah. Good call.” He peaks over to where the blonde woman should be sitting, but isn't. He raises an eyebrow. “Actually… Where the hell is she?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

To answer their question on where the blonde was, she was across town, sitting in a conference room where she used to work, carefully taking in everything this man was saying.

“It's a fairly simple form.” The lawyer begins, handing over her a document in a slick black case file. “Here you agree, in writing, to never again disclose information regarding your former employer, the dissolved entity known as Union Allied Construction, or any of its affiliates.”

He continues on even after she opens it up to read over it. “Upon execution of this agreement, the corporate interests, as they currently exist, agree not to pursue legal action against you.”

“Against me?” Karen asked, confused.

“Well, you signed a non-disclosure agreement the day you were hired, Miss Page.”

“Everybody did.”

“Not everyone broke that agreement and distributed confidential information.”

Karen scoffed in disbelief. “I… I exposed criminal activity.”

“And had you taken that information to any law enforcement agency, your rights may have been protected, but instead you went to the–” He shows off a newspaper. “New York Bulletin, a privately-owned news organization.”

“I had nothing to do with that article.”

“So the file you illegally removed from the premises of Union Allied wasn't the same one Mr. Urich refers to in this?” He asked, watching Karen refraining herself. “You see how this complicates things, yes?”

She keeps herself from tensing up with anger. “Daniel Fisher was murdered and your client–” 

“I assure you that any illegal activity associated with Union Allied has been dealt with, thanks very much to you.”

“You're welcome.”

“If you'd like, you can take these to your own representatives, but I'm fairly certain they'll advise you to sign it. And as a show of good faith, my clients would like to offer you a lump sum of six months' salary.”

She raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For all your help in the matter and for any stress these events may have caused.” He said, which was something she couldn’t believe she was hearing.

“Stress?” Karen said, dumbfounded. “Someone tried to kill me.”

“And while my clients acknowledge no involvement with that individual or claim legal responsibility for his actions, they do feel it's their non-binding moral obligation to offer you a chance at rebuilding your life.”

“As long as I… keep my mouth shut?”

“It's a clean slate, Miss Page. A chance to put it all behind you.” He explains while grabbing a pen, gently placing it in front of her. “Now, isn't that what you want?”

Isn’t that what you want?

Those words lingered in the air, getting the gears in her head to turn.

Isn’t that what you want?

Did she…

Did she want to start over from all this?

Again?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It's late at this scene. The trio of lawyers are sitting around the table, books and devices open as they have a carton of Chinese food next to them.

“Let's pull section 35.15 of the Penal.” Matt replies, thinking things over.

“35.15.” Foggy repeats, typing away on his laptop.

“Then we'll take our facts and fit them to the CJI and the statute.” Matt continues before hearing his friend sigh heavily. “Got the insights?”

“It's still loading. We need better Wi-Fi.”

“We need better everything.” Anya groans, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her face. “Is IKEA’s furniture still cheap?” That made the boys crack a smile.

Foggy points at her with his pen. “Let's do that. Let's win cases, be popular and make money.”

“It's not about that, Foggy.” Matt said, but couldn’t deny that sounded pleasing. 

“I know, but it could be just a little… a smidge.”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Karen peeks her head inside.

“Hey, uh Wi-Fi's acting weird.”

“You find out anything on Confed Global?” Matt asked, getting a nod from her.

“Yeah, uh, it's a subsidiary of a holding company of a loan-out to a holding subsidiary and on and on and on.” She crosses her arms, frowning. “But that dickhead's check cleared in about two seconds.”

“There's your money.”

Anya cocks her head, puzzled. “Well that’s… interesting.”

Foggy sighs again, his attention going back to his screen. He unfortunately was met with an error, claiming that there was no internet connection.  “Bang on the router, will you?” He asked Karen, politely. 

She nods again and starts to leave when–

“Oh, hey, no more long lunches until this is over, okay?” Matt said.

Karen cracks an understanding smile. “You got it.” She leaves, and you could immediately hear her banging on the device.

Foggy throws his hands up with joy when the page is finally loaded. “All right, practice insights for New York State Penal Law 35.15…”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The next day was the trial, and just as planned, Foggy was opening the case to everyone present in the courtroom.

He starts to keep a light pace around the room. “-And in the state of New York, I'll remind you, that my client is not required to prove that he was justified in his actions. Instead, it's up to the prosecution–” Foggy points to the prosecutions at their table. “To prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he was not justified in defending his life. And they will come nowhere close to meeting this burden. At the end of this case… the only verdict that you can render will be not guilty.”

Foggy walks back to his seat, his partners whispering to him that he did a good job before returning their attention to the Judge.

She begins speaking clearly. “Members of the jury, this is an important case, and I have a few additional comments that I want you to consider. If you should fail to agree upon a verdict, we will be forced to…”

Unknowingly to one another, both Matt and Anya failed to listen to the rest of what the Judge had to say when they noticed one of the jury members in the front row. It was a woman, who’s heart was pounding like a drum. It seemed to pick up when Matt recognized the man from their office yesterday by the ticking of his watch; And Anya caught a quick subtle glance behind herself, wiping away the chills she was getting from him.

The two of them both suddenly realized something was definitely off. In the back of their minds they thought:

This is a set up.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It was now night time. The woman from the jury is walking on the sidewalk, looking like she was heading home before she stumbles across a man she seemed to know and fear.

“All will be over soon, okay?” He begins, sternly. “Just keep it together till the verdict. Can you do that?” She continues to look scared, causing him to sigh. “Look, you ask me, it's almost like they're doing you a favor. I mean, you don't want something like that floating around. Go home. Get some rest. You got a big day tomorrow.”

The woman still looks nervous as the man puts a cigarette in his mouth and gives her the sign to leave. The woman wastes no time to walk away. The man sighs again, pulling out a lighter. But just before he could light his ever craving cigarette, the devil appears and gives him a swift punch in the gut. He gave him a few more when he decided to fight back.

“Stay down.” Matt warns when the man falls, but he doesn't listen. The man gets up and tries to attack again but he gets a kick to his knee, free falling once more. “I said stay down.”

“You son of a bitch!” He snaps, standing up wobbly.

Matt snags him by the collar, pinning him against the wall. “What do you have on her?” He asked, and twisted the man’s wrist.

The man cries in pain. “A tape! Th-There's a tape, okay?”

“What's on it?”

“A mistake she made when she was 19 and pretty, something she don't want her kids to know about.”

“You get rid of it.”

“I-I can't.”

Matt twists his wrist harder, getting another scream. “It's not a discussion.”

“It won't make a difference anyway.” The man winces.

“Who do you work for?”

“I don't know.” His reply earns him a hit in the ribs. “Ah!!”

“I want a name.” Matt hisses.

“There isn't one! That isn't how this works! Look, I walk by a building, if a light's on in the window, I got a job.” He explains, making Matt release him, and he sinks to the ground. “Somewhere there's another light in another building. I don't do this. I'm somebody else's job.”

“You tell her to get herself excused from the jury. Personal reasons, whatever it takes. After that, she never sees you again.” Matt said, cold enough to make sure he gets through his thick skull.

The man scoffs in disbelief. “They'll kill me.”

“Then you'd better leave my city, tonight.”

Matt hits him in the head to give him enough time to vanish. Up above he watches the man squirming around to get up, before running in the direction the woman left in. He sighs mentally, debating if he should follow him or not before he suddenly gets company. 

“Find anything?” Anya asked, strolling up to him with her arms crossed.

“What brings you here?” He asked, still looking in the direction the man went in. 

“Investigating.” She crosses her arms. “So, can we add blackmail to the list?”

“Apparently.”

“This shit’s getting stranger and stranger with each minute passing.”

“Find something?” He asked, interest piqued.

She shrugs. “I told you that things are linking up weirdly. I think it's starting to do that again.” 

“How so?”

“Well… I can give too many details because this is more of a… personal experience, but–” She sighs, straightening up. “Everything I seemed to be in contact with, has suddenly gone from being a bad spot to being something great. Now, I’m not a huge conspiracy nut, but this definitely piqued my interest.”

Another sigh, continuing, “I thought maybe this might have to do with my parents,  we knew someone personally who worked at this charity called F.E.A.S.T. and it was going under. Several hours after I tried to figure out how to help it, I got an alert that somebody gave the charity a large sum of money anonymously. Enough to keep it open for a very long time.”

“And you found this suspicious, how?” Matt asked, slightly confused by this discovery.

“Because, I looked into it. This money came out of nowhere. It came out of literal thin air.” Anya explains with her hands. “And the money is a lot, which I was really surprised about when I discovered they didn’t run a background check on it.”

“How much is a lot?”

“1.5 million.” Despite not seeing his whole face, you could still see the surprise on it. 

1.5?” He said, before scoffing. “And they didn’t run a background check on it?”

“No.” She said, shaking her head. “And this charity welcomed it with open arms. I thought maybe that was it, but I dug deeper. Some people I know, and some people I don’t even know are experiencing stuff like this. Like, there is a shitty situation and all of a sudden it’s good. Like getting a large sum of money, or getting a house, or a new position at a job after losing their own. And this is all like a snap of their fingers. It’s instant. It’s like Hell’s Kitchen has a good samaritan, but at what cost?”

Matt frowns, his thoughts running wild. “Sounds like someone’s pulling some strings here.”

“Exactly my thought. But who? And why?” He grows quiet, long enough for Anya to figure out what he was thinking. “You think it’s connected to this case at the courthouse today?”

“It’s a thought.”

“How? And how did you know about that case?”

“I know one of the jurors, they told me about the case.” A lie, one that she could hear. “And how about you? This ain’t exactly public yet.”

“My family had ties inside.” A lie, one that he could hear. “So what are you thinking, No-Eyes?”

He purses his lips. “I’m thinking someone, maybe the same person you’re referencing, could have its hands in the courthouse. Maybe even in the law. The only problem is, nobody will tell me this guy’s name.”

“Well that’s certainly a problem.” She says, and he nods in agreement.

“Yeah…” He frowns, thinking,

It certainly is.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The next day came soon enough, and the lawyers were holding their breaths at this point, almost praying that this would go smoothly. 

“The court grants the motion to excuse juror number eight from service due to extenuating personal circumstances.” The Judge explains, letting the nervous woman out from her seat, letting a guard guide her away. “The first alternate juror will replace her. Would the defense care to make a closing argument?”

“Yes, Your Honor. Thank you.” Matt says, standing up and guiding himself in front of the jury.

He stands still for a moment and hears a heartbeat that’s lightly pounding from the new juror. Anya picks up on that too, and hides her worried expression.

“What the hell is he doing?” Healy whispers, and Foggy tells him to cool it.

“Mr. Murdock, we're waiting.” The Judge said, making him shake his head apologetically.

“Sorry, Your Honor.” He said, taking a deep breath. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, forgive me if I seem distracted. I've been preoccupied of late with, uh, questions of morality… of right and wrong, good and evil. Sometimes the delineation between the two is a sharp line. Sometimes it's a blur and often it's like… pornography. You just know when you see it.”

That got the people in the courtroom laugh.

“A man is dead. I don't mean to make light of that, but these questions… these questions are vital ones because they tether us to each other to humanity. Not everyone feels this way. Not everyone sees the sharp line, only the blur. A man is dead. Um, a man is dead. And my client, John Healy, took his life.”

Matt points in his table’s direction. “This is not in dispute. It is a matter of record of fact and facts have no moral judgment. They merely state what is. Not what we think of them, not what we feel. They just are. What was in my client's heart when he took Mr. Prohaszka's life, whether he is a good man or something else entirely, is irrelevant. These questions of good and evil, as important as they are, have no place in a court of law. Only the facts matter. 

“My client claims he acted in self-defense. Mr. Prohaszka's associates have refused to make a statement regarding the incident. The only other witness, a frightened young woman, has stated that my client was pleasant and friendly, and that she only saw the struggle with Mr. Prohaszka after it had started. Those are the facts. Based on these and these alone, the prosecution has failed to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that my client was not acting solely in self-defense. And those, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, are the facts.

“My client, based purely on the sanctity of the law which we've all sworn an oath to uphold, must be acquitted of these charges. Now, beyond that, beyond these walls he may well face a judgment of his own making. But here in this courtroom the judgment is yours and yours alone.”

Anya furrows her brows, puzzled.

That’s… oddly specific? 

But she didn’t have the heart to question her friend’s closing statement.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, somewhere in the city, the men working in the shadows were taking a drive. 

“I need to talk to him.” Leland Owsley, the investor, said, clearly irritated.

“He sends his apologies.” The man in the office, James Weasly, replies with his everlasting calm tone.

“I don't care about his… Where is he? This needs attention.”

“He’s indisposed.”

“With what?” Leland asked with a sudden concern.

“Art.” 

“Art who?”

Weasly held a snippy remark on his tongue. “Paintings. His penthouse is finally ready–” He explains getting an eyeroll.

“You're shitting me. Everything's spinning out of whack and he's decorating?”

“The situation is under control, Leland.”

“You've lost your strong-arm and the tape. You got nothing on juror eight now.”

“She's only a piece of the puzzle.”

“You ever try putting a puzzle together with a piece missing? It's damned aggravating.” Leland sighs, shaking his head. “I don't see why we're going through all of this anyway. Just get rid of Healy the way you got rid of the other guy. They find him hanging in his cell, boom-boom, case closed.”

“Rance, Fisher, McClintock, Farnum.” Wesley starts reciting. “We've been leaving a trail of bodies lately, and trails eventually lead somewhere. This… this needed to be handled quietly, within the confines of the law.”

“So you hire a couple of back-door shysters? I know 100 defense attorneys with more experience than the three stooges.”

Wesley scoffs. “It's not their experience that matters. They just opened shop and they're completely clean. Say that about any of the other 100 you know? Huh? Three lawyers above reproach. Self-defense. No questions, no trail.”

Leland chuckles, finding that statement humoring. “No trail, huh?” He shifts in his seat to get a better gaze on him. “You think I didn’t read their names? Don’t tell me that’s the Anya Hughes?”

Wesley just stares with an emotionless face. “And what if it is?” He asked, getting another laugh. “What’s so funny about that?”

“What makes you think she’s going to cooperate? She’s been out from under her father’s thumb for a very long time now, what makes you think she’ll cooperate with Mr. F–”

“She’ll come around. Especially since we have some leverage on her. We can always use her family.”

Leland’s face falls into confusion. “What family? Her parents are dead.”

Wesley smiles mischievously. “You think that girl had only parents?”

Leland bites his lip and looks away. “Whatever.” He replies, waving this off. “Going back to beforehand, there's too much light shining on this situation. I can't move on Prohaszka's holdings until the glare is off.

“Get the papers ready and let my employer worry about the rest.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In another part of the city, Karen finally made up her mind on what she wanted to do and raced as fast as she could to the address in her hand. She arrived just in time to find the woman she’s been looking for. 

“Mrs. Fisher?” She called out, getting the attention. “Hi. Um, uh. My name's Karen–”

“I know who you are.” 

“I'm sorry. I know how… hard this must be for you.”

Mrs. Fisher scoffs. “My husband was found dead in your apartment. You have no idea how any of this is for me.”

“Nothing ever happened between me and Daniel.” Karen replies, trying to get that out there.

“You think I don't know that? I know how much Danny loved me. Whatever it is you're after, Miss Page, I can't help you.” She said, turning away.

“Union Allied?” Karen spoke, getting her to look back. “They offered me money… a lot of money if I sign an agreement to never talk about what happened. They offer you something like that? They killed Danny. They tried to kill me. And now they just shuffle some papers and change their name and they get away with it?”

Mrs. Fisher swallows the fear and replies, “Let it go.”

“I've tried. It just doesn't feel right.”

“He said the same thing. A few days before he… he said something didn't feel right at work with the numbers and I told him that whatever it was, he had a responsibility to do something about it. I figure I have a couple years before I explain that part to my kids.

“They have to pay for what they've done.”

“They won't listen.”

“We'll make them listen.”

“I already signed. I have two kids, Miss Page, and they're all that matter to me now. If you have anyone that you care about… let it go.”

Mrs. Fisher leaves the blonde behind by going back inside her house. Now Karen was stuck with a thought of…

How could she let this go?

And will she…?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

And she doesn’t. She arrives at the Bulletin office, catching the last part of a reporter’s phone conversation.

“-Shirley, thanks so much for pushing this through. I… I owe you one. Okay, thanks. Bye.” He had a smile on his face as he hung up the phone, but it disappeared as he looked at a newspaper poll his boss made him do.

Karen wastes no time to knock, waiting for a response.

“Yeah?” He calls out, not looking up.

“Excuse me, Mr. Urich?” She said, opening the door up fully.

“So they tell me.”

“I read your article.” She said, as he stood up.

Urich’s face twisted with different emotions before settling with a fake smile. “About the subway line?”

“Uh, about Union Allied Construction. I, um…” She trails to think as his facial expression fades. “I think there's more to the story… if you're interested.”

And that lit a little spark in step.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The Judge walks back in and takes her seat. “Please be seated.”

Everyone complies immediately. An officer gives the judge a note just as the man from the office, the infamous James Wesly, walks in and sits down at the bench. Matt and Anya picked that up before they heard something familiar. Another juror, an older woman whose heart was about to beat out of her chest. 

“They're hung.” Both of them said, spearing a quick look at one another.

Foggy looked at them worried. “What?”

“Madam Foreperson, it's my understanding from this note that you have been unable to reach a verdict.” The Judge asks, as the old lady stands up in her presence. 

“We have not, Your Honor.”

“Allen charge. She's sending them back in. Still split, DA will retry.” Foggy leans in to their client, explaining carefully. 

“No, they won't. Will they, Mr. Healy?” Matt asked, knowing the answer.

“That was a hell of a speech you gave, Murdock.” Healy said, sincerely. “A hell of a speech.”

Anya shakes her head, and whispers, “Fuck…”

But her and Matt knew this wasn’t over yet.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Frankly, Anya usually would try to stop her masked partner from going overboard, but for this occasion…

This called for her to turn a blind eye, one she was happy to give to him.

She hops out of her hiding spot once she sees the two men starting to spar one another, and immediately opens up the trunk that had its window smashed (All thanks to No-eyes over here). She spots the overstuffed duffle bag, pulling out and peeking around the car to find that Matt had pinned down Mr. Healy to the ground. 

“The man that hired your lawyers, who does he work for?” Matt hissed, putting a piece of sharp glass near his throat.

“You think I'm afraid of you?” Healy spatted, which was the wrong answer. He was soon hit pretty close to the heart with the broken glass. 

Matt pulls it out and places it on his neck again. “Tell me! Who does he work for?”

Healy groans as Anya soon appears with the bag he had, searching through it carefully.

She whistles and taunts, “Damn. You’re really packing, Healy.”

He seemed baffled that she was here too. “You’re really letting him do this to me, sweetheart?!”

She shrugs. “Personally, I don’t condone it, but I don’t really like you that much to care. Or…” She shows off her unusually long nails. “I could poke at you a little.”

Healy looks like he might piss his pants if hasn’t already. “You people are crazy!!!”

“Oh, Shut up!” She steps on his hand hard, causing him to scream. “Who does he work for?!”

“I can't!” He cries, causing the glass by his neck to press down more. 

“I want a name!” Matt yells back.

Healy chokes on the pressure. “Oh, Oh, God! Fisk! Wilson Fisk!”

Matt pulls out the glass and breaks it on the concrete. “You get in your car. If either ever of us see you in Hell's Kitchen again…”

“No.” He croaks while rolling onto all four.

“You do not want to test him, man.” Anya suggested, but he shook his head.

“You think this is still about you? The both of you?!” Healy asked, standing up. “I gave up his name. You don't do that, not to him. He'll find me… and make an example and… then he'll find everyone I've ever cared about and do the same to them.” He looks at them with fearful eyes. “So that no one ever does what I just did.” Then disgust. “You should have just killed me. You cowards.”

Before the vigilantes could say anything, Healy went for the loose spike on the fence, and impaled his head in it. Matt takes a step back in shock while Anya shrieks into her hands.

“Oh, my god…” She chokes, and feels herself grow pale. “Oh, my god. Oh, my god…”

Matt’s jaw twitches as he swallows. He carefully finds her arm, giving a gentle tug. “Let’s go. Let’s step away.” He said, softly once he felt her gaze on him.

Despite being in shock, she was almost, almost hesitant to leave, but she did knowing there was nothing for them to do. Once they were a few blocks away, the tense air was cut away.

“Okay.” Anya breathes, hands curling behind her head. “What kind of power does a name have for you to want to commit suicide?”

Matt finds his hands clenching and unclenching, his mind wandering to dangerous places. “I don’t know.”

“Do you know it? The name?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You?”

“No.” She sighs and blinks away unwanted tears. “No. It doesn’t ring a bell.” She shifts her weight and asks a heavy question, “What have we gotten into? Can we handle whatever this is?”

Matt grows awfully quiet. He’s silent for so long that she eventually repeats the question with a heavier emotion.

He holds back a quivering lip, saying, “I don’t know.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

On another side of town, a beautiful woman walks through her art exhibition and finds a dashingly dressed man standing still, looking at a canvas painted with shades of different whites. The woman approaches him with a kind smile.

“There's an old children's joke. You hold up a white piece of paper and you ask, ‘What's this?’. ‘A rabbit in a snowstorm’.” She jokes, and looks up at him with joyful eyes. “You interested or just looking?”

“Interested.” The man said, his fingers twitching slightly.

“People always ask me how can we charge so much for what amounts to gradations of white. I tell them it's not about the artist's name or the skill required, not even about the art itself. All that matters is… ‘How does it make you feel’?”

A long heavy silence filled the air, before the man that’ll soon become so important in this world, spoke with emotions so deep in his roots.

.

.

.

.

“It makes me feel alone.”

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《

-Tag list Is Open-

@uncle-eggy @fangirling-galore @superbreadsoul

[lvcky0ne]

｡:°ஐ girl talk

✧. characters ; park sunnie, minami hiro ! mentions of kim angel, na eunhye ! ✧. warnings ; suggestive content, mentions of cheating ! ✧. word count ; 1.2k !

it was a peaceful night in the girls’ apartment, sunnie curled up on the couch with that book she had been meaning to read for months. a woody candle lit complementing the warm ambient lighting of the room. a night free of rowdy members or thumping music, time alone to relax. then, hiro was back. 

when her roommate returned home from the dance studio, the door flew shut with a slam followed by hiro immediately clomping into the room to plop down on the floor across the coffee table from her, promptly lying flat on her back in a huff. quite used to hiro’s dramatic flair, sunnie paid no mind to her grand entrance, continuing on with her reading until she was eventually addressed. sometimes, hiro just needed time to soak in the thought provoking view of the ceiling.

“he’s not coming over again,” hiro finally spoke into the air.

“ok,” sunnie deadpanned. angel, the “he,” was at their apartment more nights than not, his own poor, oblivious roommate none the wiser to his location other than just another girl’s bed. but she certainly did not mind a break from having to play white noise loud enough to combat the noise through their thin walls.

“it's been like two weeks of this,” hiro argued, trying to prove the abnormality. it was true that sunnie had had more peaceful nights as of late, but that didn't worry her one bit.

“two weeks is not that long. plus, wasn't he here like two nights ago?”

“yeah, but that was the only time since wednesday before last,”

“aren't you precise.”

“unnieee,” hiro whined, finally sitting up to look at her over their coffee table, “i’m serious. am i not enough anymore?”

she finally marked her page and set her book aside, giving her full attention to her friend. “maybe his dick needs a break from the constant rabbit fucking you two do,” she offered.

hiro sent her a glare across the table. “you know that's definitely not it,” she deadpanned, earning a sincere-enough nod from the elder. “but usually i’m enough! he only sees other girls super rare nowadays. like if he goes out without me or something. i thought he was out of his hoe phase…”

sunnie couldn’t help but snort at that. “please. kangdae’s whole life is a hoe phase.”

“unnie, seriously,” hiro fixed her with a look again. “do you think he's seeing someone else? like… regularly? he told me i was the only one who ever stuck around.”

“not like you had a choice,” sunnie sighed. It’s not like they didn’t share everything from a career to even an apartment back in the day.

“shut up, you always say that,” the younger huffed.

“because it's true.”

“ilsu, please!”

“ok, fine,” the elder relented, rolling her eyes. “he mentioned to me the other day that he was getting coffee with anya before practice and that's why he was late. could be her?”

“ugh, na eunhye? the princess? no way, he wouldn't be into her,”

“why not? you two are like two sides of the same coin.”

“unnie, i am nothing like her!”

“hiro.” she deadpanned. sunnie could easily list plenty of comparisons between the two. starting off with parents richer than god…

“i’m not!”

“ok, whatever. it's not like you're exclusive right?”

“well… no, but he doesn't do this. he hits and quits!”

ilsu cringed at the phrase, her face screwing into a frown. “please never say that again. ignoring all the red flags in that alone, you keep refusing to tell him how you feel, so…”

“i’ve told youuu unnie,” hiro whined. “it’s not like i’m in love with him or anything. but talking about that shit just ruins things and i… i don’t want to lose what we have, ok?” she peeled herself from the floor to plop into the spot next to sunnie on the couch, leaning her head onto her shoulder. sunnie joked that she felt like the group’s mother at times, but she didn't quite mind it. it brought her closer to her members when they came to her for advice, and she always told them she was there to lean on. she truly meant it, too.

“then you might just have to accept that other girls might start to stick around too,”

“but not eunhye,” hiro scrunched up her nose in disapproval as if the aforementioned girl was some foul smell.

ilsu hummed, returning her attention to the book in her lap. “i don’t know if she seems like the casual relationship type, though.” anya did have a reputation for hopping from man to man, but they were always considered boyfriends, never… whatever hiro and angel had going on.

“don’t say that,” the other girl frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. “she has to be a whore, i’m banking on it.”

“that’s not a great outlook,” she replied.

“whatever,” the younger huffed.

“well, you need to find out if he’s really into her. you don't want to be the other woman,” sunnie still had a group to hold together after all. from a leader’s perspective, she already wasn’t a fan of all the screwing around angel and hiro do, but this would only end disastrously.

“but i don't want to lose him…” hiro sighed. frankly, she never claimed to be a moral hero. though she didn’t like to dwell on it, she wasn’t all that against being a proponent of cheating. after all, she’d been with married men before, and it couldn’t get worse than that, right? “why couldn’t he be easy?” hiro’s voice was quieter than her usual timbre now, a meekness sunnie didn’t like to see in her, but she couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“oh no, he’s pretty easy,” she giggled even harder when she earned a light smack from the rapper.

“not like that! you’re no fucking help,” she pouted.

“ok, but honestly, hiro, if he really does like her enough to get serious, he’s already lost. don’t try and change his mind or his feelings, because that isn’t fair to either of you,” she lifted her hand to play with the ends of her friend’s chopped off hair. ilsu had plenty of wisdom to impart, an older sister in all aspects of life. 

the younger didn’t respond to that for a long moment, the conversation beginning to take a painful route. “i guess you’re right… being a homewrecker is still considered bad, right?” the joke would have landed better if she didn’t mean it.

“yes, homewrecking is bad,” sunnie confirmed with a nod and a pat to her head. “no in-group homewrecking please, fucking is bad enough,” she sighed a tired mother’s sigh. 

it could be worse, she reminded herself. a mantra in her mind when it came to the oddly twisted and patched bonds of their group, held together by nails and tape and wire and mismatched threads, a complicated and irreplicable amalgamation that tied them all together.

[magpiedminx]

Tumblr has engineers?! I just always assumed this place was run by bunnies and every so often they got peckish.

[mistressdickens]

So, I starter thinking about doing a poll for every Oscars ceremony to see if the academy got it right, but that's a hell of a lot of work, and I don't have the time. So instead I'm gonna see which wrong decision was the biggest Oscar robbery of all time. Restricting this to acting, but feel free to put other thoughts in the tags.

Doing this by decade so watch out for others.

[girl4music]

I’ve actually gone down the rabbit (sorry, Anya) hole of watching Anya character study videos instead of playing Hogwarts Legacy. Learning so much more about the character than what is portrayed in the show. Now that I think about it,… I think the one person that should have stuck up for Buffy in ‘Empty Places’ out of the entire group that kicks her out is Anya. Instead she was one of the people that was attacking her the most. And maybe that had a lot to do with their showdown in ‘Selfless’ but I think given Anya was also living a life against her will in that she never asked to be all human and crazy… surely she would have been in Buffy’s corner, right? Or was that not enough? I can’t even remember what the fight was about in all honesty because it escalated so quickly into a “you don’t deserve this” argument - starting off and largely emphasised by Anya. But Anya knows how if feels to not have a choice. To have to do what you really don’t want to do in the same way that Buffy, Spike and Angel does. But have to do it to simply get by in life. To survive, to be safe, to have quality of life, to protect your loved ones, to have a responsibility. None of them liked to do it but all of them accepted it. Faced it and embraced it. Under their own circumstances of course. But still forced to be unwillingly part of this Sunnydale hellmouth deal.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

[ty-manning]

Tyler Manning

He/Him

20 years old (Birthday: September 3rd)

Psychic (Lie Detection affinity)

Neutral / Good

So What Happened?

Tyler Manning had been going through some weird shit for a while by the time Founder’s Festival rolled around. (And that’s not even counting the embarrassing fight he had with Jesse at the after prom party). He felt like he was on the cusp of getting something... The weird dreams. The whispered conversations he’d over heard about a ‘birth mom’. Havensdale’s increasing reports on ‘animal attacks’. There was some weird stuff going on, okay?

Founder’s Festival happened and Tyler suddenly knew too much. Way too much. It was a wonder he survived that day but he did.

After, he realised that the things that used to matter didn’t anymore. Pretending to be someone he wasn’t, was pointless. So he hit the books- hard. He read everything he could, appealed for information, picked the brains of the supernaturals who he was close to and would talk to him. The final piece of the puzzle came in the form of Anya Nichols: Tyler’s birth mom and a real life witch.

Through the Dome, Anya helped Tyler realise what he was. One witch parent, one human but he wasn’t a witch. He was a psychic. He would never have magic like a witch but if he hit a different kind of book, he could learn enough to protect himself. Anya made sure that Tyler did just that and promised that she’d find a way into Havensdale.

One year almost became two when Tyler’s dad was killed in an attack. His mom was trapped outside of Havensdale since the Dome came down along with Robyn Manning’s. At least they had each other. And after all that, Tyler had his best friend Jesse back.

Tyler’s research found out more and more than he’d bargained for. While looking into his own lineage, he found his biological dad was Juliette Palmer’s biological dad (note: she so did not care). Tyler also discovered that Robyn’s biological dad was Joseph Salvatore and while he was down the Salvatore rabbit hole, that Callie Cooper was also one of that dude’s kids. The more you know and truly, with his newfound psychic abilities, Tyler knows way too much.

Wanted Connections

Fellow Physics - lets hold hands!

Friendly witches who have helped Tyler learn more about the supernatural and how to do some basic ingredient based spells.

Relationships during the 3 year time jump especially ones affected by his Lie Detection ability (I mean??? Yikes, right??).

Resistance members Tyler is trying to track and help but he’s kinda getting in the way/being a but useless. 

[thetrishtalgem]

Whumptober Day 9: The Very Noisy Night

Sleeping in Shifts || Tossing and Turning || Caught in a Storm

With a troubled past like hers, it makes sense that Dimeia would suffer from nightmares. Luckily her girlfriend Anya is very good at calming her down.

Tag List: @poetic-leigh-me @writerofscribbles @whumptober-archive

Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons (OCs)

**The song used is "Dear Friend Across The River (The Bridge)" as suggested by our DM. I don't know anything about the show it comes from. ^^;

Anya slowly found herself beginning to wake, the cold air of late autumn sending a chill through her entire body. She blindly reached for the blankets, but found her hand grasping at nothing covering her. It was then she suddenly became aware of the shifting bed beside her. Anya carefully propped herself up in bed to get a better look at the figure sleeping next to her.

"Dim?" she yawned.

Her eyes adjusted to see Dimeia curled up tightly in the bed. Most of the comforter had been bunched up at the foot of the bed and spilled carelessly onto the floor. Her hands were clasped tightly into fists. Every so often, Anya watched her body twitch. The corners of her mouth were turned down.

"Dim?" she called a bit louder this time, gently placing a hand on the tiefling's arm.

"N-ngh…" Dimeia whined, her body instinctively jerking away from the touch.

Anya smiled sadly and spoke louder again, "Dimeia. Hey. It's okay. You're having a dream, liebling."

"No…" Dim turned to lay on her back. Now Anya could see the tear stains on her face and the distress in her expression. "No no no no no…"

"Dimeia. You're okay. Whatever it is your dreaming about, you're safe," Anya called more forcefully.

The girl still didn't seem to respond. The pointed end of her tail flicked a few times and she turned her head away from Anya again. Anya moved a bit closer and made herself a bit more comfortable. She carefully reached across Dimeia to pull the comforter back on the bed and cover her. The movement made Dimeia's legs begin to kick again.

"Liebling, I understand if you don't want the blanket on you," Anya's spoke softly. Soothingly. "But I'm cold. Let me keep it on my side at least."

She adjusted the blanket to stay bunched up between her and Dimeia. Anya took a moment to watch Dimeia carefully. She didn't seem to be thrashing around as badly as Anya had seen her before. But her entire body was tense, wound up like a snake ready to strike. Anya's hand reached out again on instinct but she stopped herself. It would probably be for the best if she tried to keep talking to Dimeia rather than trying to force her to wake up.

"Dim, I'm gonna get up and do a few things in the room, okay?"

Dimeia didn't respond, which Anya had pretty much expected. She slowly moved off the side of her bed and stood. Dimeia rolled over again, arms splayed out on Anya's empty side of the bed. The sight elicited a small chuckle out of Anya as she padded around the small room.

"I'll be right back with you. Just gimmie a second," she called. 

She grabbed a small metal tin from atop her dresser and a tinderbox before crouching down in front of Dimeia's things. Two beady brown eyes stared back at her from the depths of Dimeia's backpack. She reached into it, carefully pulling the small plush brown rabbit out as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. Then she turned to walk back to the bed.

"Alright, Dim. I went ahead and grabbed Beelzebub from your backpack. I'm gonna set him down on the bed if you want him," Anya explained as she did so.

Dimeia's fingers twitched as she felt the fluffy rabbit plush against her skin. She recoiled her hand, expression scrunching up again in discomfort. Anya set the tin down on her nightstand and struck the match against the side of the tinderbox. A small flame sparked and she made quick work of lighting the candle. The corners of her mouth turned upwards as she was hit with the smell of lavender. Then she flicked her wrist a few times to snuff out the flame of the match before crawling into bed herself.

"I'm right here if you need me, liebling," Anya cooed.

She rested one hand between Beelzebub and Dimeia's side. Then, she began to sing softly.

"Dear friend across the river,

My hands are cold and bare.

Dear friend across the river,

I'll take what you can spare.

I ask of you a penny,

My fortune it will be.

I ask you without envy.

We raise no mighty towers.

Our homes are built of stone.

So come across the river

And find the world below."

Anya watched carefully as Dimeia's body slowly seemed to relax. She hummed softly and reached for Dimeia's hand. At first there didn't seem to be any reaction. But then Anya felt Dimeia gently take her hand. Her expression had softened considerably. Anya smiled and brushed some of the hair from Dimeia's face as she continued to sing.

"Dear friend across the river,

My hands are cold and bare.

Dear friend across the river,

I ask what you can spare.

I ask of you a penny,

My fortune it will be.

I ask you without envy.

We raise no mighty towers.

Our homes are built of stone.

So come across the river

And find the world below."

As Anya finished the final verse, she felt Dimeia shift closer to her. There was a serene smile on her face as she nuzzled her head closer to Anya's chest. Anya couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past her lips. She placed a gentle kiss on top of Dimeia's head before settling into bed herself.

"Goodnight, liebling," she whispered. "Sweet dreams."

[briamichellewrites]

77

Matthew wanted her to eat something, so he brought her to Café Habana, a Cuban Mexican café and bar. He was from Texas, so he loved bars and grilles. She was the same in that she loved meat! Two of her friends were vegan, so they teased each other. Why were they vegan? Religious reasons. They were both Jewish, so it was easier for them to not eat meat or animal products. What about her? She thought she was raised Christian, though she couldn’t remember what denomination she was.

He was Methodist. She had an idea of what that was. It was part of the Protestant movement where they followed a guy named, John Wesley. It started in 1730. Since they didn’t want to start a conversation about religion, they instead talked about other things. Her animals. What were their names? Woody, Anya, Buddy, and Missy. She got Woody in 1998.

She wanted to adopt more animals eventually and take care of them. What kind of animals? Any. Horses, cats, dogs, rabbits, fish, and birds. Maybe some critters like mice, hamsters, and gerbils. That’s why she had her barn. She wanted to eventually get a horse or two but she knew nothing about taking care of them. He would like to see that. Would she want to have children? Maybe when she was older. She wasn’t in a good place to have children because of her mental health.

She had to be selfish first. That was a very good decision. She shouldn’t have children if she didn’t want to. Her friends wanted children, so she would be the Cool Aunt Bria. She would get them hyped up on sugar and then send them home. He laughed.

Hey, I’m at Café Habana with Matthew McConaughey. I have no idea if I spelled that right. I’ll let you know when I’m home. – Bria

Thank you. – Mike

Matthew noticed how her mood had changed since he came over. Maybe she did better when she wasn’t alone. He knew people like that. When they were left alone, the voices in their heads got too loud. It caused them to medicate with drugs or alcohol. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her. Fuck mental illness. It made people feel like they were nothing. It beat them down.

As she enjoyed her marinated skirt steak, they continued talking about whatever they could think of. He paid the bill because he wanted to treat her. Thank you. When they got back to her house, he hugged her. If she needed anything, he wanted her to call him. She promised to do that. He made sure she got inside before getting into his car and driving home. If she wasn’t dating Bradley, he would ask her out for a proper date. But he respected him too much to do that to him.

“Hey, Mikey. I’m home now.”

It was almost eight in the evening. Was it too late to come over? No, she would be getting ready for bed, though. He would bring his pajamas and toiletries then. Chester had the dogs, so he didn’t have to worry about that. He permitted him to go because she needed him. Thank you. They shared a quick kiss before he went to pack a small bag of his pajamas, a change of clothing, and toiletries.

When he arrived, he let himself in before locking the door behind him. The dogs were there waiting to see who their guest was. Hi, human! They got excited and wagged their tails happily. Where’s Bria? Bark! Missy had him follow them. They went upstairs where he had a flashback to when he found her unconscious. His heart raced because he didn’t want history repeating itself. Thankfully, she was just in her bathroom brushing her teeth. He sighed softly in relief.

Once she cleaned her mouth, he hugged her tightly. Did she take her medications? Yes, she just did that. Good. He kissed her forehead before getting dressed. She went into her bedroom to give him privacy. When he was ready for bed, he came over to her. She was sitting on her bed. How was dinner with Matthew? It was very nice. He treated her. Where did they go?

“Café Habana. It’s Cuban-Mexican food. I’ve never been there before but it’s good food. He’s Texan, so he loves meat.”

He laughed. “Who said that?”

“He did. He’s a cool guy.”

“You have a lot of people who love you. We will never give up on you.”

She nodded, as tears were going down her face. What’s wrong? She was just going through her grief again. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her. She was going through so much that he couldn’t even begin to imagine. The following day, she had another appointment with her therapist. Emma would likely join them. Since he had rehearsals, Linsey would be taking her.

Mike, how’s Bria? He sighed. She was holding on by a thread. Emma was confused about everything and she didn’t understand what was going on. Bria’s emotions were all over the place. She was trying so hard just to make it through the day. Was he going to hospitalize her? No, not until her therapist thought it was necessary. She had to be considered a danger to herself before she could be admitted. He hadn’t seen that yet. They nodded.

They had so much compassion for her. She was going through grief while fighting against her mind. There wasn’t a timeline for grief. For some people, it took a year but for others, it took longer. She was doing everything she was supposed to by taking her medications and going through therapy.

They let her express her emotions. She cried on and off. During her therapy session, she asked Linsey to join them. Was that okay? Yes, she welcomed her in. Who was she talking to? Bria. Emma came out for a while the previous day. They talked about her state of mind when it happened and what she had said. She freaked out her new friend, Matthew and she felt bad about that.

“I didn’t know she would come out. He understood after I explained my disorder to him.”

“Alters can come out when you least expect them to. Good for you on educating him. How are you doing since I last saw you?”

Linsey listened with sadness as she talked about her grief. She was crying on and off. Was her boyfriend helping her? Yes, though he left to work on a new movie. She felt alone because he wasn’t there. But she couldn’t force him to give up his career for her. It wouldn’t be fair. As they continued talking, Emma came out because she wanted to talk. She had been left home alone again.

Was that why she was upset? Tears. She didn’t know because everything was confusing. What was confusing? Why her mother died. She knew that she was sick, but she wanted her back because Bria was happy.

That’s what she wanted. She was happy for a while when her friend was over, but then she was sad again when she came home. Then her other friend came over and she was still sad. Linsey asked if she could hug her. She nodded. The hug felt wonderful. She was truly just trying to understand. But she was a child in an adult’s body. There were things she was forced to experience and that confused her. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t Bria’s fault, either. She nodded again.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon