#a spark sweep would be so nice though

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men with drunk reader

Part ll with Geto, Megumi and Gojo here

Pairing: Choso x reader; Nanami x reader

Word Count: 2,9k (Choso's part escalated)

Warnings: Nanami's part is not proofread (wanted to publish this today so badly), angst in Choso's part, fluff in every part hehe

As always, I apprechiate every little comment or repost. Thank you guys so much for your support <3

Choso Kamo

You weren’t planning on drinking that much tonight. To be honest, you were just looking for a good time, guys bought you drinks like there’s no tomorrow though. Who are you to refuse that favor?

You definitely should have, though. Because right now, you are standing with your back against a wall in a dark alley of Tokyo, whole body trembling in fear. The frame of an enormous looking man cut off every possible escape route you’ve had, every minor spark of hope you’ve had left. Fuck, how could you be so dumb, why did you take the shorter route through this abandonment district? All you have in your purse are a lipstick, a few bills, your phone and your keys. No pepper spray, no knife, absolutely nothing to defend yourself. Not that you would be able to, given that you aren’t even able to stand up straight.

“Come on cutie, don’t be shy”, he purrs, hand stretched out to touch your hair.

“Keep your fucking hands off me”, you hiss before sinking your teeth into his hand so violently that his skin bursts.

“Little bitch.”

With a swift motion of his bare palm, he sweeps you off your feet, head spinning when it hits the wet tarmac harshly. You are way too drunk to collect a single logical thought, mind racing uncontrollably as your blood discolors your sight crimson.

“I was trying to be nice, y’know? But that’s it. You’ll pay for that.”

Without hesitation, he grabs you by the throat und pulls your aching body out of the dirt, smirking at you with his missing teeth. Tears start to swell up your eyes, you simply can’t believe that it came this far. You should be home already, lying in your bed after drinking a whole bottle of water, sleeping in until afternoon. But this…This isn’t how your night should have ended.

“Help me!”, you cry out.

“Please, someone! Help me.”

“Shut the fuck up”, he interrupts you roughly, smashing your weak body against a nearby wall.

Focus. Try to have a sober thought for a minute. Your legs are free, perfect height for his crotch. If you kick him hard enough, he might let go of you. Every inch of your skin hurts like hell, bruises over bruises covering your weak frame. But you have to be strong now if you want to escape him. No, you’re not going down without a fight.

With a loud scream, you put all the power you have left into your right leg, kicking between his legs with full force. He lets go of you immediately, puny figure crumpling down on the floor. You have no time. As fast as your wobbly legs carry you, you run deeper into the dark alley. Away from that man, away from his attempt to force himself on him. Get away, fuck the alcohol and the way your whole body screams at you. Your sharp and fast breath hangs in the air, tears still rolling down your eyes. You run and run and run until-

You harshly land on the ground.

Choso didn’t plan on hearing your desperate cries for help. To be honest, he didn’t even plan on being here in the first place. But still he stops in his tracks, eyes darting towards the direction of your desperate scream. What was this? It sounded like the cry of a woman followed by punches. Curses, maybe? No, he can’t detect any curses energy around this area. Is this even important, though? He is on his way to a meeting with Geto and the others, making plans on how to take revenge for his brothers.

He grumbles to himself. Whatever it is, taking the back alley doesn’t extent his path significantly. His steps follow the constant mumbling, screaming, crying and rumbling. Fast steps come near him, a woman running his way. His brows furrow. You don’t seem to see him, the panic in your glossy eyes seems to glow in the dark as you sprint forwards, directed towards him. Before he is able to move to the side, you crash into him full force, making you fall to the ground rougly.

The second your doe eyes dart towards him, he forgets for a moment how to breathe. You must be quite beautiful for a human being, even though your face and hair are covered in blood and your whole body is bruised. Carefully, he steps towards. What is he supposed to do now? What even happened?  

“Back off”, you cry out, crawling away from him on the wet tarmac of the night.

Another pair of steps, this time louder and heavier. A man come in sight. The second he lays his eyes on your puny figure, he starts sprinting faster, directly towards you with a maniac grin plastered on his face.

“What do you think you’re doing, fool?”

He shouldn’t care the slightest. No, Choso should continue on, leaving you to your face. Why the hell is he automatically positioning himself in front of you, now facing that ugly man that seems to chase you?

“What are you doing here, freak? She’s ours, find your own little whore”, the spits at him along with a weak attempt to break Choso’s nose.

Pathetic. Who does that fucker think he is? The tiniest amount of blood is enough to pierce right through his pea brain.

All you can do is stare in awe as the stranger in front of you. Who is this man? And how was he able to handle the situation in the blink of an eye? The toothless man’s body falls to the ground lifelessly. It’s only you and him, the man with the threatening appearance who happens to be your savior in shining armor.

“What are you doing here all alone?”, he mumbles before slowly turning around and staring at you dead still.

With the last bit of strength you have left in your weak body, you lift yourself off the ground and glare at him, shivers running down your spine. Did he…kill him? How? When?

“Was on my way home from a party”, you explain briefly.

“How careless to take this path without fighting experience or weapons on your own”, his harsh voice remarks, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Thank you for saving me. He’d probably killed me if it wasn’t for you”, you mumble.

Fuck, you feel like freezing to death. Your clothes are sliced open, dirty and wet from the rain that fell a few hours ago onto the ground, head spinning from the alcohol and the way he slammed it into the tarmac with full force.

“You’re freezing.”

The stranger takes one step forward, leading you to panic all over again.

“Don’t touch me!”, you yell instinctively, body desperately trying to hide from his presence.

“Stay here, idiot. I’m trying to help you.”

Choso doesn’t really know why, but his arms wrap themselves around your trembling figure, your head resting against his chest while silent sobs escape your lips.

“I just wanna go home…”, you sniff and he can’t help but feel…

Sorrow.

You were probably enjoying your evening, not putting much thought into your way home, not expecting a men to attack you like this.

“Where are you living? This isn’t an ideal place to stay”, he mutters, unsure of how to act in a situation like that.

This is the first time he ever held a woman. Fuck, this is the first time he ever felt something like distress about a human in his whole life.

“I…I can’t…walk”, you stutter.

His gaze wanders down your entirely bruised legs. Who knows what that man did to you before he arrived. Anger rises within him, hands clenched into fists.

“I’ll carry you, then.”

With a swift motion, he wraps his arms around your back and knees, making sure not to hurt your limbs in the process.

You can only stare at him in awe. Who is this man, the man with that strange tattoo over his nose, the man who wears purple eyeshadow and a robe you haven’t seen before? Why is he helping a stranger, even carrying your drunk and injured body home? Even though something about him tells you that he’s not to be trifled with, you don’t ask him. Instead, you give him brief directions to find your apartment, eyes never breaking away from his gorgeous face. He seems young, maybe as old as you. But still, you’ve never seen him around. Is it because you’re drunk? You don’t know, but you can’t hold your tongue any longer.

“You are such a beautiful man.”

His eyes widen, staring down at you in disbelief. What are those words? No woman ever said something like this to him. How is he supposed to react? He should have let these men kill you on the spot, just leave you alone in this cold and dark alley.

But why, why do your words make his heart flutter?

“I mean, your style is pretty edgy and all, but it suits you very well. Haven’t seen you here before, though. You here often?”

“I’m never here”, he remarks dryly.

Are you really trying to start a conversation with him?

“We have to go right here. Aaaaaand there’s my place”, you announce weakly, Choso’s mind still occupied by your previous statement.

“Thank you for carrying me…”, you mutter when he lets you down gently, hands fumbling to reach your keys.

All he does is staring down at you blankly. What’s on his mind? Was all of that planned? Maybe he is like that man, maybe he just came here to know where you live…God, you are so stupid.

“You aren’t here to murder me, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding me? Do you really think I would have carried you all the way to your door just to kill you here?”, he remarks.

“Right…m’sorry, I think I’m still a little drunk y’know…”

Fuck that. Before you’re able to go into panic mode again, you wrap your arms around his body tightly. His scent is almost intoxicating, probably the best male fragrance your nose ever sniffed. And you can definitely tell that he’s a well-trained man underneath that strange clothes.

Choso can’t move an inch, all senses focused on the way you hugged him. It feels strange. Strange to be embraced by someone, strange that he helped a human being tonight. Why did he choose to follow your screams, why did it bother him so much that that other man laid his hands on you? And why does it somehow warm his heart to feel you so close against his own body?

“Thank god I ran you over tonight”, you hush against his chest.

Choso has to blink a few times.

“Good for you”, he simply replies.

But deep in his heart, he knows this isn’t only an event you will never forget. He himself will probably never get over the fact that today, he helped another human being instead of letting it get killed. But not only that.

You are breathtakingly gorgeous.

“Now go inside and find some sleep.”

With one last glance at the man who saved you only a few minutes ago, you step inside your apartment, weak body sliding down the closed door. Did this really happen? You might be drunk, but that man…

You’ll definitely never forget him.

Kento Nanami

“Don’t do it, (y/n). You’ll only get yourself into trouble. Nanami-san is a higher up, you have to work with him for your entire life. It’s not wise to call him and tell him about your stupid little crush”, Ino warns you while you scroll through your phone with a dumb smirk.

“I can’t hold back any longer Ino! I’m soooo obsessed with him!”, you cry out dramatically.

One call can’t hurt, right? Nope, that sounds like a good idea. The second your eyes dart towards his name, you press the call button, Ino freaking out next to you.

“You are way too drunk for a serious talk like that. Are you out of your mind? Hang up immediately, this is a bad idea, you will-“

“Is that you (y/n)?”

“Hello Kento”, you purr into the speaker.

“Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Nanami straightens himself in his seat, eyes lingering through the window over the city lights. Why would you call him this late at night? And why does his first name coming out of your mouth make his heartbeat pick up so suddenly?

“No, jus’ wanted to talk to you…Y’know, your voice sounds so sexy, absolutely…how do you call it? Oh, masculine”, you mumble.

Something about your usual so composed voice seems off, though. Didn’t you and Ino mention earlier that you are going out tonight?

“Are you drunk?”

“Hehe, yes”, you giggle, making Ino almost lose his mind next to you.

“Can you tell me where you are? I’m coming to pick you up.”

It’s far after midnight, too late for you to be out on your own. Is Ino with you? Hopefully he’s still there. His brows are furrowed, ears focused on every little word you say. You never called him by his first name before, let alone talked with him so openly. Over the last few months, the two of you got to work together closely. And slowly but surely, Nanami begin to fall for you. Your exceptional brain, your immense powers, the way you carry yourself with such elegance and wise words. At the moment though, you seem to miss your usual composure completely. What are you trying to tell him?

“Oh really? That’s so kind of you. Uh, Ino, you know where we at?”

Ino snatches the phone out of your hand, ice cold sweat running down his face. Fuck, hopefully this doesn’t cost him his good reputation.

“Nanami-san, I’m so so sorry-“

“Don’t be. Can you tell me where you are?”

“Of course, I’m sending you the location right now!”

“Thank you. Make sure (y/n) stays save, I’m coming to get her immediately.”

With that, he hangs up.

“He’s coming to get you, dumbass”, Ino mutters.

“How exciting!”, you speak out with glimmering eyes, heart already pounding against your ribcage by the sheer thought of seeing him tonight.

“I should meet him at the parking spot.”

“Stay where you are!”, Ino barks at you, hand holding onto the sleeve of your shirt for dear life.

In the meantime, Nanami is already on his way to get you with his head lost in thought. This is the first time you ever spoke so freely to him. And the fact that you called him this late at night while being drunk…Even though a part of him wants to be mad at you for being so reckless, to know that he was on your mind instead of everyone else makes him blush ever so slightly.

It doesn’t take long to find you. With elegant steps he approaches you and Ino, your eyes wide open. How does he look so fine this late at night with his shirt buttoned up so neat and his hand braced on his hip?

“You look absolutely del…delicious…Is that how you spell it, Ino?”

“Please stop talking (y/n)”, Ino begs, finally able to let go of you.

“Come on, let’s drive you home. Ino, do you need a ride?”

“No thank you. My apartment is a few blocks away. Have a good night. And you, drink a lot of water.”

“Gotcha!”, you remark, eyes filled with determination.

Until you have to really take a few steps outside.

“Ouff, is it just me or is the floor lave?”, you breathe out.

“Come on, I’ll help you.”

His arm wraps itself around your shoulder gently, pulling you close to his large frame. Even though your mind is clouded by alcohol, your heartbeat picks up in an instant.

“I could get used to that. Should get drunk more often.”

“Please don’t”, he replies, leading you to his expensive looking car and helping you get seated.

It doesn’t even take 5 minutes for you to pass out in his car, snoring in the most adorable way Nanami has ever heard. Finally he has the opportunity to shamelessly admire your soft features and the way your hair frames your face so delicately. You really are an attractive woman with everything he could wish for.

And maybe, just maybe, this is the perfect opportunity to ask you about your feelings towards him. After all, he can’t deny the spell you put on him.

“(y/n)”, he gently speaks out.

You don’t move an inch, not even when he allows his hand to stroke over your arm. Are you really that drunk? Nanami signs to himself, gets out of the car and opens your door – still no movement.

“I’m going to carry you inside…”, he mutters more to himself than to you, arms lifting you up with ease.

God, you are so breathtakingly gorgeous. Will he ever have the courage to tell you about his true feelings, that he wants you to be more than just a colleague? Who knows. What is way more important to him now is to take off your shoes, carry you into his bed and put a blanket on top of you, softly tucking you in while you groan in your sleep.

“Good night, (y/n). Maybe I’ll tell you someday how much you mean to me.”

“Night, Kento…”, you mumble back.  

[keigo-takamis-no-1-simp]

Ｈａｗｋｓ Ｘ Ｒｅａｄｅｒ - Ｌｅａｒｎｉｎｇ ｔｏ ｌｏｖｅ: Ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ ｆａｌｌｓ ａｐａｒｔ

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Hawks x Reader

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Your anniversary with your boyfriend comes, and your life turns upside down. You lost your job and got stood up on your date... when all seems lost, a certain winged hero seems to step in.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Angst with comfort

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:  2061 

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚘 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎

A chilly January evening in the middle of Mustafu, and your third year anniversary with your boyfriend. Junichiro- a guy you met in a stupid office Christmas party. One of the few people that actually talked to you- then asked you out a few weeks later. He begged you to move in, and… you did. 

You were early to the restaurant, smoothing out your dress in your seat as you sip on a glass of wine. You had to look perfect for him- after all, you didn’t want to embarrass him. You glance around, and the time drags on. It starts at 5 minutes, then ten- then it’s 20 minutes past when he should’ve been there. The waitress had asked several times if you were ready to order, in which you always asked for more time. Was he even coming? You blink, taking out your phone. 

[Name] - Hey, you on your way? :) 

Unsurprisingly… there’s no response. Your heart sinks. This was the second- or was it the third?- time he’d done this. You get a call from your boss, in which you immediately answer it. “Is this [Name]?”

“Yes Ma’am. What can I-” She cuts you off. 

“I’m calling to inform you of your termination at my establishment, effective immediately.” You freeze. And… she just hangs up. Most people would probably leave and start to cry- or maybe shed a tear right there and then. Yet, nothing came from you. Nothing but a blank stare.

You had never cried- and you rarely smiled. Your mother was convinced something was wrong with you, and had you tested over and over- but there was nothing wrong. You were a healthy child. Once your sister, Megumi, was born- she paid more attention to her. And when your brother, Atuski, was born… she forgot you even existed. 

Much like your ex seemed to do your last two anniversaries. 

You sigh, looking around the restaurant blankly. As you begin to debate leaving- you hear movement behind you and a hand gently rests on your shoulder, and you tense. A familiar man comes into view, and you relax when his hand moves. He slips into the seat across from you, sliding off his hero jacket that’s lightly dusted in melting snow.

“Hey! So sorry I’m late, babe- traffic and reports today took way too long.” When you cock your head to the side, he leans in. “Name’s Keigo- just go with it, yeah? Whoever stood you up is a prick.” His golden eyes show a sense of honesty you aren’t accustomed to. You nod a bit. “[Name], it’s nice to meet you- and thank you.” You return his greeting, before pausing. 

“You.. look familiar. Not just from the hero stuff, but- I feel like I know you from something.” You hum, taking another sip of wine. He chuckles, sweeping his somewhat messy blonde hair back. 

“Yeah- I can say the same. Can’t place it, but I’d never forget a face as pretty as yours,” His words make your face flush- you’re certain he’s weirded out by the fact you don’t smile- yet, his expression doesn’t shift. 

“Really though- whoever stood you up made a mistake. And, if you’d be so kind as to allow me to join you… I’d be willing to show you what a good date looks like.” Oh yeah- he’s definitely flirting. Though, you take note of the fact he doesn’t say he’d ‘show you a good time’. 

Interesting. 

“Sure, why not?” you shrug lightly. “Maybe it’ll spark a memory of where I know you from- and the night can really only go up from here.” His smile widens and his wings flutter slightly behind him. You could see why they called him the heartthrob of Japan. 

“Only go up?” It’s his turn to tilt his head in confusion. There’s a soft noise in the back of his throat- something you can’t quite place. 

You shrug. “I mean- being stood up definitely sucks. It’s not my first time, but- it still sucks.” You hum softly. “I also apparently no longer have a job- so… the company is appreciated.” 

He frowns. “I’m sorry, that’s… a lot for one night. But, if I can make it even a little better, I’m happy to.” He nudges your arm. The waitress approaches your table- visibly surprised to actually see someone else there this time. Let alone a top 3 hero. 

“H-hello, Mr. Hawks, sir- um- Can I take your orders..?” Her face is flushed- definitely a fangirl. Yet- Keigo didn’t seem embarrassed to be seen with you. Was that really the case? You blinks, returning to the present. 

You give her your order after Keigo orders something with chicken. A brow quirks in surprise. “Isn’t that technically cannibalism?” He looks at you for a moment, before a genuine laugh takes you off guard. His head thrown back, how the light hits him just right- and his laugh itself is a pleasant sound. 

A smile tugs at your lips for a moment- it’s an odd sensation, but a welcome one. You didn’t smile much, but your dad always told you it was the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. 

“Jesus Christ, kid- you’ve got one hell of a sense of humor. I like it.” He takes in a breath, still chuckling. “I ain’t no chicken- those are way too weak. I’m more like a Cardinal-” 

“.. or a hawk?” You tease, and he covers his mouth as he snorts. 

Conversation flows naturally between the two of you. He never said a word about how you didn’t smile more than once or twice, or laugh at his jokes. He didn’t seem phased by it at all. He didn’t try to touch you either- maybe he picked up on how tense you’d gotten, or maybe he was weirded out after all. 

Either way, your night definitely ended on a much better note than it started. Three glasses of wine, some italian food and dessert later- and he’s walking you out, careful not to touch you. Yet, you can sense his wing behind you, in care you were to fall. Snow covers the concrete, still gently falling around you. 

You turn to face him after making it to your car. He quirks a brow. It wasn’t anything fancy- just an old sedan that gets you where you need to go. You’re pretty sure it’s an older Ford model- it was American, that’s all you knew. 

“I had fun tonight. Thank you for everything, Keigo,” You turn to face him- and he takes you in for a moment. He clears his throat, opening your car door for you. 

“Thank you for letting me join you. If you’re wanting to do something like this again… I could always give you my number,” He grins, a gentle pink dusting his cheeks. You hand him your phone- you had to give it to him, he was pretty damn slick. At least- sometimes. 

“There- and I even sent a text to myself to make sure it’s right.” He chuckles, pausing. “.. since it’s snowing, the roads may be a little slick. Be careful, yeah?” There’s a sense of genuine worry in his tone. It’s.. touching. Though, you didn’t understand. Sure, you both seemed to recognize one another, but… this was new. 

“Y-yeah.. You too. Text when you’re home?” You start your car, hoping that the heat would come on quickly so you don’t freeze your ass off. 

“Of course, kid. Drive safe. Goodnight~” He gives you a grin, ensuring you’re completely in your car before shutting the door. He waves lightly, before heading to a nice red sports car. 

Your phone connects to your speakers, and music softly starts to play through them as you pull out of the parking lot. 

… that was the first date you genuinely enjoyed in a long time. There were no expectations, no forceful innuendos, just… great food, conversation, and company. You sigh, pulling onto your street. 

Your car has been shuddering throughout the entire drive, and… your stuff is on the curb. Your heart stops as you pull up, leaving the car on as you head up to the front door. It’s locked- and… your key doesn’t fit. At a loss, you go to return to your car- to find it’s died. 

Your lips part, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Of course- of fucking course. You can’t have something good happen without 15 disasters following. Your phone buzzes, and you jump, glancing at it. 

It’s… your boyfriend. 

“Hello?” your teeth are chattering as you speak, and he just sighs. 

“[Name], I’m breaking up with you. I found someone a lot better, smarter, and prettier than you. Your shit is on the curb.” And… he hangs up. That familiar sense of numbness starts to creep in.

You stand there at a loss. Effectively… you were homeless. Jobless. You call up your brother, Atuski. After a few rings, he picks up. 

“[Name]..? What’s going on?” He sounds groggy, and guilt settles in your stomach. It’s a little past midnight, and he had work tomorrow. 

“Hey, uh… I kinda got dumped and kicked out of my house.” You can hear just how flat your voice is. You can hear sheets shifting and him cursing under his breath. 

“That fucker- hold on, I’ll be there in 10.” He grunts, and there’s shuffling in the background as he hangs up. 

Sure enough, 10 minutes later, he pulls up in his truck. You stand, your bones aching from the cold. He gives you a small, sad smile as you climb in. “Thanks,” You give him a small nod, before glancing back at your things. They were soaked from the snow- you’re fairly certain your now ex threw them out shortly after you left for work. “All of that’s a lost cause,” You hum. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh- and that guilt twists your stomach again. “Ok, uh… fuck..” He mutters. “... I hate to do this to you, but.. You can’t stay with me.” 

“What?!” You practically shout, anxiety quickly joining the dread. Shit- were you really homeless? Where would you go? 

“Hey, hey- before you kill me, I got something set up. A buddy of mine works with a guy who works with several heroes. One of them agreed to take you in until you could get yourself sorted out.” 

You sit there, mouth agape as you shiver. Your dress is completely soaked, and your hair clings to your face. Teeth chattering, you sigh. “That’s… better than nothing- I’m… sorry for all of this. Thank you for picking me up so late.” 

He gives you another small smile. “It’s the least I could do.” 

The rest of the ride is silent. You aren’t sure which hero you’ll end up essentially rooming with- but hopefully it’s someone you know. Either way, you trust Atsuki enough to know he wouldn’t leave you to the wolves. Sure, he’s your annoying younger brother- but he cared a lot more than your mother. You’ll take what you can get. 

“Here we are- again, I’m sorry you can’t stay with me. I don’t have the room, and… my girlfriend is really needy. He’s on the top floor- penthouse suite. Let me know if you need anything, ok?” He ruffles your hair, and you nod a little. 

The truck had helped you warm up somewhat, but you seriously didn’t want to get sick. Climbing out of the truck, you trudge through the snow into the apartment lobby. You take it in, eyes widening. This room alone looked 3x more expensive than your entire house… 

Swallowing hard, it’s hard not to feel the eyes of the other people in the lobby boring into you. Making your way into the elevator, you hit the key for the top floor- 17. A shaky breath makes it’s way past your lips, teeth continuing to chatter. 

You would find a job, save up enough money to pay rent, thank whoever is letting a stranger stay with them profusely, then get out of their hair. In the meantime- you wouldn’t ask for a thing. You nod to yourself, plan in place- until the doors open. 

That fucker…

“Well, I was hoping to meet again in a different way, but this works too.” Crimson wings, golden eyes, and a stupidly handsome face. Of course…

You’re rooming with Keigo fucking Takami.

[libby-for-life]

Lucifer and Adam goes clubbing/dancing for late night date and while their on the dance floor some random demon came up and slapped on Adam's ass or just starts aggressively flirting to Adam who's slowly losing patients, but one look from Lucifer and that random demon will n o t be living the place alive. Lucifer drags that poor soul out in the back of club, threw an alley way, while Adam is following them on a slower pace, instead of Lucifer's fast one. So as you know Lucifer kills the demon, unnoticed to everyone that is near/inside the club do to the music being blasted top volume. Adam gets hot and bothered by the possessive/demonic look on Lucifer's face, so he turns him around and sensually kiss him, begging him to fuck him.

Blood and Violence, Possessive and Rough Sex, Crossdressing?[adam wearing a short dress; easy access, lol], Semi-Public/Alley Way Sex, I saw that you did a Queen Adam one, can you do that for this one too?

Nice! I live for possessive Lucifer. It gets my creative juices flowing.

Let's begin, Anon.

Adam was doing well all things considered. Sure, the club had nothing on Heaven's clubs, nothing would, but for Hell's standards it was high-peak. The sheep demon pulled his short dress down a bit with a blush. The only reason why he was even wearing the thing was because he lost a bet. His husband was the original trickster so, though he would never admit it, it was Adam's own fault for believing that Lucifer would ever play fair.

"Don't worry so much, my lamb." Lucifer had purred out in a sultry way that had Adam's body melting. "You look beautiful."

"Of course I do." Adam had grumbled, but he preened at the praise, which made the whole thing much more bearable.

Adam sighed to himself as he looked in the direction his husband had gone. Lucifer had gone to change the music to something a bit more classy to dance with. Adam just shrugged but smiled nonetheless. The former archangel looked so starry-eyed at the thought of dancing with Adam that he just nodded along with him.

But he had been gone for a while now.

"Where are you?" Adam muttered, his eyes sweeping the dance floor. He got up from his seat at the bar and looked around a bit. He let out a yelp when he felt a stinging slap to his ass. He quickly turned around and glared at the tall demon before him. Adam was used to being the taller one in Heaven when he wasn't counting the seraphim.

Hell was a whole other story. Many demons towered over Adam and it always made him feel small in every sense of the word.

"Hey there, sweet thing~." The demon flirted making Adam recoil in disgust. It was a tall-looking dog. "Not interested." He didn't want whatever this demon wanted. He flashed his ring for good measure.

"Oh, come on." The demon said, pushing him into the counter. "I know you want this." Adam glared harder, his eyes burning gold. "No, I don't. Fuck off, asshole." This didn't seem to deter him in the slightest. A hand found its way to his ass and squeezed. "Let go!" He tried moving away but gasped when the offender was dragged off him. Lucifer held the dog demon by the throat and he looked livid.

"How fucking dare you," Lucifer growled, a few sparks leaving his mouth that would soon turn to flames if left unchecked.

The sinner gulped, as much as he could with his throat being squeezed, and began babbling about how Adam was asking for it and how he didn't know he belonged to the King of Hell.

Lucifer had heard enough and began dragging him away. Adam watched in a bit of a daze as his husband left him by the bar. No one had even glanced in their direction, too busy dancing to the slow music that Lucifer picked out for them to dance with.

Without thinking too much about it, he followed after them, making sure he wasn't bumping into any couples on his way. He had just caught sight of Lucifer barging out into an alleyway. Adam jogged up to the door and slowly opened it.

Lucifer was going to town on this sinner. The dog was yelping and yelling for mercy which his husband didn't seem too keen on giving.

Adam could feel himself blush, a tent forming in his silk underwear. His dress was doing nothing to hide it. Lucifer looked so hot being protective and possessive. He watched as a hole was punched through the dog demon's chest and he finally slipped to the floor of the dead.

The sheep demon walked up to his husband who was breathing heavily and was quick to turn him around. Lucifer looked surprised but moaned when Adam kissed him hard. It didn't take much time for his husband to take control with a growl.

Strong hands picked him up and slammed him into the wall. Adam moaned in slight pain but immediately moaned high and loud as Lucifer attacked his neck with kisses and bites.

"How dare someone touch what's mine?" Lucifer said, hands fondling Adam's silk-covered ass. "Only I can touch you. I should remind you of that."

Adam moaned at the gruff voice. "Really? Because I've seen you do better." He breathed out.

Lucifer growled harder, his chest vibrating with power that Adam could feel.

"Oh? Then allow me to show Hell's Queen what he's been needing."

Adam was flipped around and his dress was hiked up his ass. The panties were ripped off showing him bare for Lucifer to see. Adam didn't even need to be stretched, Lucifer made sure he was loose for himself and plunged his dick all the way in.

Adam mewled and even let out a few bleats of pleasure as Lucifer took him roughly in the alleyway. Tears fell down his cheeks and Adam felt the growing need to cum.

"Please, I-I."

Lucifer chuckled. "Does my little lamb need to cum? Beg for it."

"Please! Let me cum! I'll be good! I-I'll, oh God, be you're good little lamb!"

"Then cum."

Adam came with a scream. He loved this feeling of possessiveness, the furious protective nature, and the fact he wasn't the only one who got jealous. He loved his husband. And from the gentle look he was being given, the feeling was reciprocated.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Summary: You were never one for grand gestures displaying your love for the world to see. Love for you was in the little things, especially little notes scattered across your home for Simon to find. But for his birthday you do something a little different. OR You read a handwritten poem to Simon and he melts in your arms, with a little extra surprise as well :)) Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: None, it's really, really, soft. I can't emphasize that enough. Author's Note: Wrote this on the way to my grandparents' house, got carsick lol. Came up with this idea on the bus though, it's really cute in my opinion, hehe. Enjoy!!

If there was one thing you were sure of in this world, it was that you loved Simon. Without hesitation, you could say that, and despite the infinite number of words in the thousands of languages of this world, nothing would be enough to describe the extent of your love.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try.

You weren’t…big on talking about the storm of feelings that swirled in your heart, nor one for grand gestures encapsulating how you felt. Perhaps that was one of the many reasons you and Simon clicked so well because neither was he. You both found comfort in the collections of little things; small, considerate gestures that brought that tiny spark of warmth each time.

It could be something like bringing one another tea after a long day, murmuring so softly to each other, because your words were for each other only. Or perhaps making pancakes in the morning, laughing in embarrassment as you realize that Simon had caught you singing into the spatula. Or soft touches, skin on skin in gentle strokes as you breathed down from your highs, matching smiles gracing your lips.

Love is in the little things. That much was true, at least for you and Simon.

But you were always one to take that extra step, that little push that meant just a little bit more, but still not yet toeing the line of grandness. You loved to write, especially to him.

Little notes scattered around the house, small poems you come up with as you watch Simon in the early morning light, as he does mundane tasks like reloading the dishwasher or folding the laundry. Just because you didn’t like speaking your truth didn’t mean you wouldn’t make it known.

And just because your notes were small didn’t mean that it meant anything less than the entire world to Simon.

Every time he spotted a little note of yours his heart did a little skip, that feeling of childish giddiness he missed out on when he was young seeping into his very bones. Sometimes you would catch him as he read your notes, and without fail his eyes would sparkle like woven gold itself as he breathed in your words like they were his salvation.

He would always find you after every one, reciprocating in his own way whether it would be a kiss pressed to your lips, or your forehead, or simply sweeping you into his strong arms.

Your love language was your words, his was touch. Maybe they weren’t grand gestures, but it was more than enough.

~

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, the weather warm enough to only have to wear light sweaters as opposed to thick winter jackets. The sun was shining down on you and Simon as you went about finishing errands for the day.

The last of the groceries had been packed into the trunk, and you were both tired enough and wanted to be in the comfort of your shared home.

Despite the normalcy the day held however, today was actually Simon’s birthday. He was never one to celebrate it much, maybe a nice drink and dinner, and when he wasn’t on a mission, a night with you held close. Simply existing in each other’s space would be better than anything else for Simon.

That didn’t stop you from buying him a little cake however, it was Pac-Man themed, with little ghosts frosted on. You thought it was silly and cute, fitting given his callsign. It would definitely get a chuckle out of him no matter how ridiculous he thought it was.

“Man, I really should’ve gotten those gummy bears,” you say, a pout on your lips as you watch Simon hang up the car keys.

“I did say you would regret putting them back, doll,” he says with a low chuckle, moving the grocery bags to the kitchen to begin putting them away. You trail behind him, poking his side playfully as he shoots you a glare which only makes you laugh in response.

“We do not need more snacks in this household, Si. The pantries are suffering as is,” you say as you try to find a place for the Pringles can you hold.

“Your loss then, but you know damn well they’d be gone within the day.”

“If I tell myself enough times that they won’t be, maybe it’ll come true,” you glance at him with a grin and you watch as his eyes crinkle, likely the same expression on his face, though his balaclava was blocking it.

“Hey, let’s get this off you, hm~?” you ask, making your way over to him. You grasp the edge of it in a silent question, and he only kneels down with a slight nod.

“I’m not that short you know,” you say with a snort, pulling the fabric up and off his head.

“Tell yourself that, love,” he says, and only now can you see that cheeky expression on his face that you kiss away.

“I have a little something for you, after the groceries though,” you say, patting his shoulder lightly as you watch him stand back up. His eyes shine with something akin to curiosity as he hums, turning back to help you put stuff away.

You wrote notes, that much was true. From your vantage point in the kitchen, you could spot at least three colourful notes lining the walls alone, but it wasn’t often that you said the words yourself. It felt…vulnerable, there was no way to hide the feelings that overflowed from your voice. But even moreso, those notes allowed for time, time to find those words that captured how you truly felt, or at least as close you could get to that truth.

But you knew Simon yearned for it, you couldn’t count the times he had told you how much he loved your voice, and hearing the words of your poems scattered through the house from your very lips would make it all the sweeter.

“Your voice is like honey,” he had said one night as you simply held each other close, watching some random documentary playing on the TV. You were rambling on about the facts you knew about the animal in question, elephants or something.

“What?” you responded, confused as you paused your crash course in elephants for a moment.

“I don’t know how else to describe it other than honey. Nectar maybe. Sweet, syrupy, all encapsulating. I could get lost in it,” he said simply, and you felt your cheeks heat up at his admission. He only watched your expression change from awe to embarrassment, and couldn’t help but pull you closer to his side at your adorableness.

It made sense, the way he was so enraptured by you every time you spoke, as though your voice was an enchanting song that he couldn’t help but pay attention to. He had asked you a couple times to read out your poems but you always shied away from it. He didn’t mind though, never pushed, but deep down Simon truly wants to hear the words come from your sweet lips. But he would take what he could get, if this is what you were comfortable with, then your honeyed truths written on colourful sticky notes were more than enough.

But today was the day you would grant his wishes.

~

Finally, the groceries were packed away. Trying to find space for everything was…a task. Costco was a dangerous place.

“What was it you wanted to show me, love?” he asked, turning to face you now, hands grasping your hips and soothing little circles into them.

“Sit down on the couch, I’ll be there in a sec,” you say, nudging him a bit.

“Oh?” his lips turn up in a smirk before you huff out a little laugh.

“Not that, you freak. Not yet at least, behave,” you say before turning towards the bedroom, your heart beating a little faster now.

You speed in, grabbing a little sheet of paper from the bedside drawer. This one had taken you days to write, your best attempt at condensing all that you felt for Simon in this piece of writing. But at long last, you were happy with it.

Making your way back over to the living room, Simon comes into view sat comfortably on the couch.

“Good job,” you praise, and he scoffs lightly but you don’t fail to see the tips of his ears redden which makes you grin in turn.

You situate yourself down on his lap and his hands gravitate to your waist immediately. Your heart beats a bit faster now as you lean into him so your head is over his shoulder, face out of his sight.

“Just…stay there, alright? Stay there and listen,” you say softly before taking a deep breath. “I’m a little nervous so don’t judge me if I stutter alright?”

“Never,” he reassures you, and you take one more deep breath as you feel him hug you close in comfort.

“I...love you. I know you know this with the words that line our walls and the whispers in the dark of night, but I truly do,” you say, and where his chest is pressed to yours you feel it pick up in rhythm.

“When you kiss me awake as the golden light of the sun shines through the cracks of the blinds. When you nudge me to the inside of the sidewalk when we’re out on a walk, or when you wash my hair when I’m too tired to even think, I love you,” you swallow as you try to ease the beating of your heart that now rested in your throat, but Simon only smooths his hand over your back patiently.

“When we drink tea together in the middle of the night when we can’t sleep, or when you laugh at all my stupid jokes and innuendos, even when you heckle me in the rare times when you let me drive, I really love you,” he laughs a bit at that.

“I think most of all is when you come home after a long mission. Even despite being tired, aching, and exhausted when you come home, it means that you made it back to me, safe and sound.”

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s in the little things, I think. But they form a collective of something great, something beyond you and I that bleeds out beyond the frontiers of this world,” your breath shudders as your words reach a climax.

“I think that above all else we have a love of destiny, written in the stars by the divine entities in the heavens above themselves and tied off in a bow with the strings of fate, that’s the only way I could explain how perfectly we mould together as a pair.”

He hears you sniffle a bit and nudges you forward so he could see your face. Concern washes over his features but you just shake your head, assurance that you were okay, more than okay.

"Every day I thank the fates that I met you, and that you let me worm my way into your heart that was once guarded so tight. In the journey that is life itself, I am thankful that it led me to you,"

“In this universe, and every other universe parallel to our own, I am yours. Irrevocably, impossibly yours, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you say with a smile despite the tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You reach back into your pocket at that moment, and a small burgundy box appears in your hand. You watch as Simon’s eyes grow wide in response, swirling in infinite emotion, but most of all, love.

“So, Simon Riley, would you do me the honour of becoming my husband?” you say, tears streaming down your face now as you open the box that had been weighing heavily in your pocket all day.

It was a simple little ring, swirling black and silver that you felt represented Simon perfectly.

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you wait for his response, and before you know it you’re swept into his arms, face pressed into your neck before he pulls away. Then all he says is “Yes”, before he’s capturing your lips in his own. It’s all tenderness and all encompassing; it’s all the words that Simon can’t say but wants to show nevertheless.

When you pull away you’re breathless, and all you can gasp out is “Really?”

Simon doesn’t say anything for a moment, only takes your face into the hands roughened through time in war, yet holds you no less gently. He wipes the streaks of tears staining your face before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yes.”

[blitheringmcgonagall]

Chapter 4/4

See other chapters 3/4 here

PS this (finally) is for @athenasparrow 🥰🥰🥰

Chapter 4

You can do this, he tells himself firmly, you can do this. Only two hours to go.

He’s avoided looking at her all day. Sat on the opposite side to her during the beautiful ceremony. Avoided eye contact when the grooms kissed (could have been us, Evans). Refused to stand next to her when the photographer pushed them together. Kept a watchful eye to ensure he was nowhere near her all night. At least they had put him at polar opposite ends of the room. He’s hardly touched any alcohol, terrified of what he might do or let slip – contestant vigilance, as Moody would put it.

‘Nice evening, Prongs?’ Marlene looks a bit tipsy as she lifts her glass of champagne in his direction.

‘Great day,’ he says. It’s not his day. Remus and Sirius haven’t stopped beaming. He means it.

‘You know, you should probably just talk to her,’ Marlene twists the stem of the glass around, contemplatively.

For fuck’s sake.

‘No.’

‘Oh come on, get it over with, for once and for all,’ she insists, sweeping the glass in the air, as though issuing a decree.

‘Marls, you don’t –’

She steps towards him, finger pointed in his direction.

‘Listen, Potter, you arse –’

He moves back, feels himself collide with someone, turns hastily and watches in horror as Lily Evans recoils from him, a patch of red wine down the front of her dress. A Greek goddess in teal - sleeveless, plunging neckline, fluidity of silk, backless. His mouth goes dry.

‘I’m so—’

‘Don’t talk to me!’

Those haunting emerald eyes, fear and anger, mostly fear. She’s scared of him. Something in him, tenuous, that he was trying desperately to hold onto, snaps.

‘I have no intention of talking to you, Evans, for Merlin’s sake! Talking to you of all people is the last thing I want, believe me. It was an accident! What the hell is wrong with—’

‘Out!’

Remus Lupin is standing in front of them, his cane in his hand, waving it at James like a weapon.

‘Moony, for f—’ his temper rising.

‘Do not even attempt to swear at my husband on his wedding day, you tosser. Get outside, both of you, immediately.’

His stupid brother has materialised beside Remus in his impeccable muggle suit – eyes narrowed, straight-backed, hand hovering over his wand – like he’s about to start a duel.

‘Keep out of this, Black,’ she hisses at him, furious.

‘Make me.’

He’s watched them like this so many times in the past – two sparks about to ignite, icy wrath and a smouldering fireball, both unstoppable, both sharp, cutting, intelligent, impulsive. Alike in so many ways. He always thought they had an unusually tight bond, like siblings.

Remus Lupin steps forward and jabs him firmly in the ribs with his cane.

‘I said out.’

There’s a finality about it. It brooks no arguments. Like he’s a fucking professor telling them to—

‘Alright, cool it, Moony,’ he growls, raising his hands in mock defeat.

‘You too, out,’ he says to her.

Their eyes lock and she says nothing, but he can feel the rage emanating from her. She throws a cleaning charm at her dress and nods, wordless.

Finish reading on ao3

[true--north]

And yet another "canon" Helsa to Conceal, Don't Feel.

Spoilers to All Is Found

It's an alternate reality where Agduna lives, Anna is already in love with Kristoff, and Elsa spends the Coronation Day anew. She meets Hans at the ball, dances with him even, but feels that something is not right, that this reality is not something how things should be.

“Glad I caught you!”

Elsa blinked, suddenly finding herself staring into the emerald-green eyes of a tall, lean man, dressed in the fashions of the Southern Isles. He was gripping her hand with long, delicate fingers and looked a little worried.

Feeling her face flush, she allowed him to pull her to her feet.

“Forgive me for being so forward, Your Majesty,” the man said, interrupting her troubled thoughts. “It’s just I didn’t want you to fall.”

He was handsome. She’d give him that. With thick auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. And his smile was endearing. But at the same time, something about him made her blood run cold, though she had no idea why.

“I appreciate that,” she murmured. “I just… don’t—”

“Like formal gatherings like this?” he finished for her. Then he smiled. “Me neither. I never know what one is supposed to do. Besides eat and dance, I suppose.” His gaze locked on her. “Do you dance, Your Majesty?”

“Not usually,” Elsa confessed. “But—”

“She’d love to!” Anna broke in, practically shoving Elsa in the man’s direction.

Elsa found herself caught in the man’s arms. She wanted to break away, but she knew it would be impolite. She was queen now—anything she did could spark an international incident. And so she forced a smile to her face and allowed him to sweep her onto the dance floor.

He was graceful, the perfect partner. Easily chatting about his homeland and his brothers—it sounded like he had quite a few. But Elsa couldn’t keep her mind on the conversation. There was just something about him that seemed… off. And her heart raced in her chest at every dip and turn.

When the song finally ended, she awkwardly excused herself, retreating to the dessert table and shoving a few pieces of chocolate in her mouth. A moment later, Anna was by her side again.

“What do you think of him? He’s nice, right? And gorgeous. Total marriage material, don’t you think?”

Elsa sighed. “I don’t know. I just met him two minutes ago.”

“Fun fact: You can actually marry a man you just met!” Anna assured her, refusing to be deterred. “I hear it’s done all the time. If it’s true love.”

[hopeymchope]

Worrying about Halara Nightmare, Rain Code's non-binary beauty

Despite seemingly presenting as female at first impression, Halara Nightmare from (Master Detective Archive: Rain Code) is non-binary. Or, to be clearer about it, their character profile says that they "have no specified gender." However, they are described as "beautiful" to both men and women, which... yeah, I can see that. Halara definitely rocks that look.

Look at 'em sweeping that coat around. Every detective should rock an epic coat.

And they're more than a cool coat — Halara's a really compelling character! Like so many characters that've been born from the minds of Kazutaka Kodaka and his supporting team, Halara is an odd duck who possesses believable complexity thanks to a mix of positive and negative traits — some of which seem to come out of left field in the best way.

But here's the thing: I've been doing this for a while. I've seen all the raging discourse that follows video game/visual novel/anime characters such as Chihiro Fujisaki, Naoto Shirogane, and R/Luka Urushibara. So I know a significant chunk of players aren't going to just see Halara as another character participating in the larger narrative who happens to provide some nice diversity to the cast. Even though this is the kind of story where a massive amount of the cast isn't going to make it out alive, many would-be fans are going to take it extremely personally if Halara gets killed or — god forbid — winds up being a culprit at some point. Even MORESO if either of those happens in the first half of the game, for that matter. And worst of all... I can't even say that such a reaction would be wholly unjustified. Y'know?

That's why Halara isn't just a compelling non-binary character who could go any number of directions from my current point in the game; they're a powder keg waiting to go off. I love the representation, but... they also make me nervous.

I'm simultaneously both totally open to whatever story Kodaka wants to tell me AND crossing my fingers for Halara to avoid sparking a bunch of discourse.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

SOUL EATER AU!!! SOUL EATER TERUKANE!!!

Hear me out! I'm having thoughts!

 

Teru, after decades of the Minamoto Clan only having meister kin, is the only weapon to come out of the family. He was a surprise, and they didn't really know what to do with him. This caused him to want to improve himself, so he'd be recognized by his family. So he self-wields. He learns how to hunt Kishin eggs and even witches. Although he refuses to become a death scythe until he "proves" himself to his family.

Even though he's one of the best weapons in the school and is comparable to full-on death scythes, he doesn't believe he is strong enough. Everyone assumes that he is a katana, and he doesn't correct the rumor since that's the weapon his family is known for wielding. But I think it would be awesome if he was a Nagamaki! They're quite similar to katanas and have a longer handle, so there's better control as well as more weight in attacks. And they're a bit more versatile since they can counter and block attacks more effectively since you can control the blade more. They also have a longer reach, if I remember correctly.

 

Okay, to Akane. He's a meister with no prominent background, but he's a fine utility meister. He originally joined the school with Aoi as his weapon partner, but they separated when Aoi found a meister who she resonated with better. They're still friends, and they don't have bad blood. Akane typically works with weapons he can match with until they find another meister or they fall out. So he never had a weapon partner to truly call his own.

They met on a mission that was accidentally double booked (or was it? 🤨 Lord Death could've shipped it). And that meeting sparked a rivalry that no one expected. Akane's current weapon noped out of there because the romantic tension was suffocating. (Eventually, they calm down)

I think it would be nice if, after a while, they started feeling comfortable with each other and started hanging out with each other more. And suspiciously, Akane hasn't gone out to look for a new weapon partner in a while, and aren't they hanging out after school a lot more than with anyone else? 🤨

I think it would be silly if they were forced to work together because Teru's 99 kishin egg could be reset for some reason. So they work together, with Akane looking for more difficult missions so Teru isn't bored and patching up Teru if he gets hurt, and Teru actually doing the dirty work because he refuses to accept help. But they underestimate one mission and get ambushed, and Akane is forced to ACTUALLY wield Teru, so they actually have a chance.

And shockingly (or not so shockingly), they're a perfect match! Teru's wavelength was hard to match for anyone normal because it was too strong and erratic, but with Akane being well-versed in changing his wavelength to accommodate his former partners, he could match Teru. They win the fight with minimal injuries and a few more kishin eggs than expected.

Teru took a few days off to fully process everything, with the encouragement of EVERYONE! NO ONE WAS GOING TO LET HIM JUST SWEEP HIS FEELINGS UNDER THE RUG FOR THE SAKE OF NOTHING CHANGING!!! NO ONE WAS GOING TO DEAL WITH HIS BS!!!

So when he came back, he and Akane officially became weapon partners. During missions, Teru still took the initiative and did a lot of the fighting, but with Akane there to fall back on if he needed help, backup, or simply wanted to be wielded.

And when they finally got to the last soul on the list, the witch's soul, Akane was willing to wait for Teru to get stronger, like he usually wanted. But instead, Teru takes on a mission to hunt a witch. They take on the assignment and actually succeed!! :D

And Teru is a death scythe! Then, they kiss. Aren't they cute? I hope they get therapy soon. 🙏

 

I like to imagine that after this, they'll be caring for Kou and Tiara. They're watching Kou and his weapon partner, Mitsuba, and just going, "Wait! We were like that?!" The entire time

[petertingle-yipyip]

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

Season Three - Lavender Haze

tags: @americaarse @dusstory @ironprincessstranger @johnmurphys-sass @astrobees @mayasaurus--rex @woowwwee // three // five // masterlist

Pairing: Matt x Reader, Dex x Reader

Word Count: 9,303

Summary: Betrayal and reunions. For Exodus, seems one can’t exist without the other. All relationships are tested when it all turns into something bigger.

You and Karen took a seat at one of the pews closest to the side door. You were waiting for either Sister Maggie or Father Lantom, knowing one of them would be the best bet to talk to about Matt. He knew at least one of them would’ve sworn everyone else to secrecy, but they would talk to you.

They were always willing to talk to you, but you never quite knew if it was for your sake or Matt’s.

The idea of seeing Matt again, inside a place you so frequently visited. To know he was right there the entire time, the thought let the red haze tease your vision. You dropped your head and closed your eyes and to anyone else, the sight would’ve looked like you were praying. Rather, you were trying to settle the sparking heat of anger that was urging you to take off your jacket.

“Sister Maggie?” Karen said suddenly, leaving your side and your attention snapped up. All remnants of the red gone.

“Can I help you?” She asked politely, but you seemed to steal her attention as you stood by Karen’s side. “Y/N.. It’s nice to see you inside finally.”

You gave a polite smile in return.

“Still doesn’t smell like cinnamon but…” You gave a small shrug. “We were actually hoping that Matt Murdock was here.”

She shook her head slightly. “No, he’s not.”

“Right.” You said with a small nod. “I wasn’t so sure anyways.. Thank you.”

“Y/N, wait.” Karen reached for you.

“No, it’s fine. I can do it without him. Just.. Text me where to go and I’ll handle it.”

“Y/N.” Sister Maggie called behind you.

“Thanks for your time, Sister. I’ll see you next time.”

“Will you wait for just a minute?” She insisted. You sighed heavily and cursed yourself mentally before you turned to face her. “It wears you out, doesn’t it? Trying to save him from himself.”

“Considering I’ve only seen him once and he didn’t really care to talk or explain anything, it’s not like he wants me around right now to begin with. And it’s funny when you think about it. He used to be the one trying to save me from myself … You know what he told me? That I’ve already mourned Matt Murdock so I shouldn’t care. How can he tell me I shouldn’t care?”

“When someone in need tries to push you away, you have to find the strength to hold on tighter… Everyone in Matthew’s life has abandoned him, even me. He needs someone who’ll stand by all his struggles and be there to pull him through on the other side. You have to keep pushing back, Y/N.”

“How can I do that when he won't come near me?” You shrugged with an exhausted sigh. “He’s intently visited everyone that mattered before Midland Circle except me.”

“You’re a smart and stubborn girl, Y/N. I’m sure you can find a way.”

Karen picked you up later that night. She refused to let you go alone so you climbed into the backseat with your duffel in hand. As she drove, you changed in the backseat. She told you what her plan was, for her to go in first as a buyer and make sure Evans was there. And even though you didn’t like the idea of her going in alone, you knew it’d be less dangerous than if you showed up in your mask. Instead, you found a decent vantage point to watch her go in after slipping one of your comms mics into her pocket, then you clicked your mask and implant to watch her venture inside.

The hand on your shoulder was the only thing that took your focus away.

You instantly dropped to the ground. Sweeping their legs from under them, you yanked one of the knives from your belt and raised it above your head to throw. When you turned to find a target, you found Matt laying on his back with hands up in surrender.

“Тебе повезло, что я тебя не убил. Опять же.” You groaned and bit the blade as you hauled Matt up. (You’re lucky I didn’t kill you. Again.)

“Yeah, missed you too, Y/N.” He said with a small smile.

“Sure doesn’t seem that way.” You mumbled. “Besides, that’s not what I said.” You rolled your eyes and flipped your knife idly before tucking it away.

“I know.”

“You do understand that we still need to talk. Right? About all of it. You owe me that much.”

Before he could answer, you heard a male voice in your head. Listening carefully, you heard Karen say his name and a tight, almost threatening response.

You hurried into the room with Matt on your heels. You got to the room just in time as Karen threw an elbow at the person behind her. You yanked the man you assumed was Jasper by his shirt collar and threw him into Matt.

Two more men came after you two so you ran at the first one. You slammed into him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders as something to hold on. You kicked out hard at the second one’s chest and used the movement to throw your legs back and your torso forward to slam the first man to his back. As you stood, one of the men went to get up so you threw a knee against his temple and he fell flat. You looked over at Karen, who offered a silent nod that she was okay.

“You knew his last known address and that he’d probably be here.” Karen said to Matt. “What were you waiting for?”

He turned his head to you but you scoffed slightly and crossed your arms. Either he was waiting for you to say something or you were what he was waiting for.

“You knew we’d come?” She kept going.

“I’d hoped.” Matt answered.

“But you couldn’t have come to me?” You said angrily. You moved to Matt, still knelt by Jasper’s side, and forced your foot against his chest, pushing him to his back and leaning your weight forward to keep him down. “You didn’t want to just talk to me?”

“I didn’t know if I could get to you.” He tried but you leaned forward more and he groaned slightly.

“I may not read heartbeats but I know when you’re full of shit.”

“How was I supposed to try? When Fisk has the FBI in his pocket.”

“Because we live together!” You said angrily. “Because I never was! Because I was at that goddamn church every day!”

“He could’ve had eyes on you the whole time. How was I supposed to know?”

“You never even tried!” Your voice broke as you yelled.

You felt a hand on your arm and turned quickly, only

to see Karen with a concerned expression. Her eyes darted between yours and you knew by the colors lurking in your peripherals that your eyes were reflecting that bright, hot red. You gave in and let her pull you off Matt but once you were clear, you turned and slammed your fist through a nearby picture frame.

“I’ll help you, but after that, you need to help me and Foggy. The FBI is all over us and-“ Karen tried to explain quickly but you could feel her worry for you.

“You want me to turn myself in.” Matt cut in as he stood, rubbing the spot on his chest where your weight had been. You knew it didn’t hurt him. He was still built too well for just your weight to hurt.

“You talk to Foggy?”

“No, but it’s the smart move.. Sure, I’ll do it. I’ll turn myself in.” He turned towards you. “To you.”

“What?” Your brows raised quickly and you pushed your mask to the top of your head as if you wanted him to fully see your expression. “I’m not supposed to be involved with your investigation. It’s the one conflict of interest I can’t get around.”

“I won’t do it if I’m not turning myself in to you.” He said simply.

“They find out I’m anywhere near you and I’m done. Everything I’m working on is thrown away.”

“I thought you were an elite spy?” He tried to joke.

“It doesn’t matter. Even if you turn yourself in to me, I would still have to hand you over to Ray. It’s not my case.”

“Wait, what if they’ve figured out you’re… you?” Karen tried.

“Ray would’ve been hassling me a little more to figure out me if he knew anything.” You waved a hand, wincing as you felt the small glass shards shifting in your knuckles. Matt made a move for your hand but you crossed your arms, unintentionally pushing the broken pieces deeper into your skin.

“The mask doesn’t do me any good if I'm a wanted man either way.” Matt shrugged. “Besides, if the FBI figures out who I am, maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll lock me up next to Fisk.”

“Да, хороший пентхаус в президентском доме для Кухня дьявола ада.” You snorted to yourself and Matt chuckled. (Yeah, a nice penthouse at the Presidential for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.)

“Foggy said you were different, that you had changed. I thought it was bullshit but..”

“You’re acting a lot like me, Devil Boy.” You warned as you repositioned your mask. “Remember when I told you that you were gonna become just like the one person you didn’t wanna be?”

“Whatever.” He scoffed and you had the desire to kick him in his teeth. “We can’t take his statement here. Fisk’s lawyers will say it was coerced.”

“We’ll take him to the Bulletin.” Karen answered. “We get him on record in front of witnesses.. Besides, my editor is gonna wanna hear all this with his own ears.”

Matt yanked Jasper up and threw him into a nearby chair. You collected a bright yellow ball of fear in your palm and pushed it into his chest, watching him jerk awake in sudden terror. He moved to get out of the chair but you shoved a foot against his chest and forced him back. You held that position, leaning your weight forward as Matt came to your side. 

“It’s your lucky day. We’re gonna give you a choice.” Matt began. “Option one- I call the FBI and Fisk has you killed before you can tell ‘em how you got out of prison.”

“Trust me when I tell you that Fisk will be able

to reach you, even from his penthouse.” You threatened, your accent tinting your voice as you leaned away. “Even with the FBI watching him.” 

“Option two- you tell this nice reporter the truth about what you did for Fisk and I’ll let you run someplace Fisk will never find you.”

“I can’t.” Jasper shook his head.

“Cool. Option one.” Matt shrugged and made a move but you shot your arm out to stop him. You shot him a pointed look and he simply pressed his lips together in a line.

“If I talk, Fisk kills my son!” Jasper panicked. “We had a good life before the neighborhood went down and I got myself put away… Left my son without a father and this is what he does with his life.”

“What makes you think Fisk would need you to talk to kill either of you?” You countered simply. “If that man feels even the slightest bit threatened by what you know, he won’t hesitate to kill you both.”

“If Fisk stays out of prison, a lot of innocent people are gonna die.” Karen said, a dark tone in her words. “So you can either tell my paper the truth and we let you and your son run far away or you can go back to prison and I print the story like you talked anyway.”

“You would lie and get us both killed?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, she’s pretty well protected.” You gestured to yourself and Matt.  “The way I see it, you are the one that needs our help.”

“If you three hadnt-“

“Shut up.” You groaned and leaned away, moving your foot off his chest. “What if I can guarantee your son gets out of town before anything happens?” You offered and you felt his panic slowly drop as he looked at you with wide eyes. “People in this town owe me some favors so I can have your son out of town tonight and you can follow right after you’re done. New names, new lives in a new place.”

“You would do that?” He asked gently. “I thought you didn’t give chances.”

“I’m not doing it for you.” You said honestly. “It’s a limited time offer that I will not extend again. I have no problem putting a bullet in your head if you back out or you take too long. Do we have a deal or not?”

The next morning, you and Foggy sat in the conference room as you waited for Ray. Your foot tapped quickly under the table and all you could think while Foggy and Ray talked was how different Matt really was. He was so much darker, so lost in his own head. You’d never seen him so miserable. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, whether he said it out loud or not, that thick slime of misery trailed behind him like footprints.

It was like he had forgotten everything about who he was.

Did you do that? Had your influence broken him?

No, you had been apart too long. There’s no way it was your fault.

“My client’s ready to submit to questioning.” Foggy explained before turning to you. “Under the condition that she’s the one to bring him in and is present during all interrogations.”

“She’s not allowed on this case.” Ray countered easily. “Conflict of interest.”

“I have a witness lined up that can help provide information on Mr. Murdock’s innocence.” You said honestly.

“Sounds like I’m being jerked around, Y/L/N.” Ray sighed. “You know you’re not supposed to be anywhere near this. I tell Hattley and you’re done.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“It’s too personal for you, Y/N.”

“It’s less about Murdock and more so about getting Fisk locked up again. I will hand Murdock over to you immediately, I swear. As long as he gets into your custody, does it really matter who he turns himself in to? I’m just there for the witness statement. Anything else that happens is out of my control. Besides, I’m the only one he knows isn’t playing Fisk’s games. I’m the only one at this bureau he trusts. Why not capitalize on that while you can?”

“You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Yeah, it’s a running theme with me. Are we doing this or not? Cause if Murdock gets away, when he’s literally being handed over to you, that’s not on me. I’m sure Hattley will have a field day with that.”

With a heavy sigh and realizing you had him in a corner, Ray agreed. A weight lifted off your chest but a new one settled on your shoulders. While you made good on your end with Jasper, having called Natasha and asked her to help get some ducks in a row so the kid was out of town before the prior night ended, you were now worried about taking his statement. Fisk had to have eyes on Jasper

to ensure something like that didn’t happen, that he didn’t open his mouth.

You knew something was coming. As someone who grew up knee deep in the blood of people who didn’t keep their mouths shut, you’d be lucky if you got two words out of Jasper before a bullet shut him up for good. Especially if a certain FBI SWAT sniper was involved.

Having returned to his hidden dwelling under his church, Matt was conversing with Sister Maggie and thinking. Every time he had spoken to Y/N since his return from the dead, it hasn’t been from him reaching out. It had been a matter of circumstance. But that didn’t stop one of her sentences from bouncing around his brain.

You never even tried!

The apartment was closer than the basement after he got out of the river. Karen brought her along when they confronted Jasper Evans. As far as Matt could control and despite the way it hurt, he wanted to keep her away. He didn’t try to reach her. In fact, he actively tried to stay away from her. Because he knew, no matter what was going on or who was trying to kill him or arrest him, he wouldn’t want to leave her side again once he returned.

Her life was going great without him, for the most part at least from what he understood. Whoever she was sleeping with. Her position at the FBI. No one trying to kill her. No secret to keep. Friends who cared about her. She had almost everything she ever wanted, everything she deserved.

Though, and he couldn’t admit it out loud, he was hoping there was still a part of her that wanted him.

Admittedly, he noticed something different in her demeanor. Something darker, empty. She didn’t feel quite the same but maybe that was due more to the change in Matt than her. Or that was a result of processing the grief and trauma from Midland Circle on her own.

As caring as Foggy and Karen could be, they just wouldn’t get it. The only person that probably would was Frank, and neither of them had heard from him in a while.

Despite it all, despite the protests in his head and all logic he had left, he wanted to be with her again. To feel her touch against his skin, more than while she beat on him - though he’d admit he deserved it. He wanted her sleepy voice, muttering some old song or just talking about whatever thought she had.

What he wouldn’t give to have his Y/N back.

“This have anything to do with a certain fiery one with a couple scars that visits us?” Maggie teased with a knowing smile. 

“Y/N.” He said her name softly, like a secret only he knew. He smiled as he thought of her, coming all the way inside a place she didn’t care for just for him. “Yeah.. I’m meeting her.”

“She’s lovely. Temperamental, but lovely.”

“She is.” He chuckled lightly.

“She knows you’re Daredevil.”

“She does. Took a while of her fighting beside me for her to figure it out but….”

“But she sticks around? Sounds like a keeper.”

Matt couldn’t hide the grin.

“Yeah, she’s… She’s definitely more than a friend.” He agreed. “I really do love her.”

“Nice to hear you used the f-word and the l-word.” Maggie continued with a smile. “And to see you reconnecting.”

“No, we’re not..” He tried to explain but the wrenching feeling of his chest cut the words off. He had to remind himself to keep distance, to make it easier on Y/N. “She’s just helping me… I gotta turn myself in to the FBI and Y/N is the only one I can trust.”

“Trust?” She nodded in thought. “Trusting someone usually means you care.”

“I do.” He agreed sadly. “I care about her more than anyone but.. I can’t just waltz back into her life like nothing happened. She wants answers and I can’t give them to her.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I can’t give her the answers she deserves.” He clarified before he cleared his throat, hoping to clear the growing tightness, and redirected the conversation. “I’ve been falsely accused. Gotta clear my name.”

“You mean Matt Murdock’s name.. If you’re leaving him behind, what does it matter?”

“My life is complicated enough without being a wanted fugitive… Besides if they look too deep, they’ll figure out me and then they figure out Y/N/N. I’m doing this to protect her.”

It had always been to protect Y/N.

“Y/N/N…” She smiled slightly, seemingly proud of what she heard. “Careful, Matthew. Someone might think you’re still a bit soft under that hard exterior.” She joked

lightly as she left.

Something about the day felt off as you sorted the duffel from your trunk. It was a looming anxiety and it wasn’t coming from you. It was stemming from a distant source. Lonely. Cold. Afraid. Panicked. It was the feeling of someone who had lost everything, who was at the end of their rope. Teetering the ledge, willing to plummet rather than be saved.

It sent a shiver down your spine but you pushed the sensations away to focus on the task at hand.

You doubted you’d have time to change into the full suit, so that and your pack, you left in the bag. You had access to a mask and a pair of Bites in your glove box. Under your shirt, you wore the discreet vest and fit your holster with one of your own guns, rather than your bureau issued piece. Your badge was in your jacket pocket and two knives sat at your back, tucked safely into your waistband. You slipped a couple discs into one boot and a smoke bomb into the other. Satisfied with your simple collection of gear, you grabbed your bag and headed to pick up Foggy.

“How do you feel?” He asked as you drove with the radio low.

“He hasn’t explained shit to me.” You said simply. “He’s avoided every real chance at a conversation and he’s definitely different.. He reminds me a lot of myself and I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Just give him some time. You are probably the one person that he can’t hide from for long.”

“It took him how long to admit to me he was Daredevil?”

“And it took how long for you to admit you were Exodus?”

“Are.”

“What?”

“I am Exodus.” You turned to him at a red light. “She’s not just gone because I don’t wear the suit as much.”

“Regardless.” Foggy said carefully, taken back by your words.

The determination was easy to recognize. There was no mistaking your intent. Exodus would never be the past for you, and the time without Matt - the way you let that side of yourself handle the fallout from Billy - was more than enough to recognize that you were more the vigilante than anything. 

“Matt’s not a criminal.” He continued as you drove. “FBI won’t have anything and it’ll expose Fisk. We all win.”

“Once this all blows over, I don’t think I’ll keep this job much longer.” You confessed.

“I thought you liked the FBI.”

“I do but it seems like.. Every path I take, I end up in the same situations. I always end up in a fight that puts the people in my life at risk… I don’t know, maybe it’s better if I take off again. Keeps everyone safe.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You don’t get to leave again.” Foggy said simply. “I’m still trying to get Matt back. You can’t leave.”

“Fog, c’mon.” You tried as you parked. “I have no place in the world.”

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “You don’t get to go anywhere. Your place is here, with me and Karen and Matt. End of story.”

You smiled slightly as you got out of the car. Despite everything, your own lies and secrets and selfish behaviors, Foggy refused to turn his back on you. Nearly everyone had abandoned you, some you admittedly turned your back on first but still. No matter how hard you pushed, Foggy pushed right back into his spot.

That’s why he was your best friend.

You two walked into the Bulletin and the Foggy found Matt before you did. You stopped at the end of the hall and felt your heart jump to your throat. You felt Foggy’s hand on your elbow and you glanced over, catching his concerned expression.

“You okay?” He said softly.

“Yeah, uh.” You nodded and gathered yourself. “I’m just gonna call and check in with Ray.”

“Y/N.” He gave a small frown.

“It’s not like he’s gonna talk to me anyway.” You offered a sad smile. “Sooner this gets done, the better it’s gonna be for everyone.”

“Sooner you talk to him, the better it’s gonna be for you.” He softly insisted.

You let out a sigh and watched Matt’s head turn. His eyebrows raised slightly and you knew he was listening to you. Your heart rate or breathing. Maybe he was listening for your voice. Either way, you gave him nothing. Your pulse and breathing were as steady as ever while you quietly left to another room. You felt Foggy’s demeanor fall as he went to sit with Matt.

Your conversation with Ray was short and sweet. It was clear that he wanted some sort of confirmation that you had Matt and Jasper, but you gave him neither simply

for the fact that you couldn’t guarantee who was listening on his end. All you asked for was confirmation that his team was en route and that was exactly what you got.

Their conversation suddenly fell when you got back.

“Ray’s getting his team together. They should be here in less than ten.” You said simply, standing behind Foggy’s chair.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Foggy tried.

“You sure this FBI agent can be trusted?” Matt turned his head to you.

“He just wants the truth.” You said honestly. “He’s a good guy as far as I can tell.”

“Then yeah, I’m sure.” He nodded.

“Y/N.” Foggy turned. “Say something.”

“He knows.” You looked to Matt, shutting down the sharp pang in the center of your chest. “He saw everything at the prison. That’s why you’re under investigation, why he put a spotlight on you.”

“Are you?” He asked, a worry in his tone that he tried to push away. “Under investigation.”

“Not yet, but I’m sure the SAC is looking for a reason.”

“Y/N…”

“Matt.” You said sharply, maybe sharper than intended, but that didn’t seem to bother him.

He smiled slightly but the expression quickly fell away.

“What happened?”

“You mean how you died?.” You said flatly. “Well you pretended to at least. Or did you mean after that?”

“You know what I meant.”

“And yet you still don’t get it. Death doesn’t happen to you. You’re not the one dealing with the fallout. Death happens to everyone around you, to the people left standing in the rubble of that building wondering how the hell are they supposed to go on without you. And your death happened to the people that couldn’t even talk about it.”

“You’re right..”

“Don’t just agree with me.” You said angrily. “Argue with me. Defend yourself.”

“You wanna have an argument in the middle of the Bulletin?” His brows raised in accusation.

“I want you to show that you give a shit. I want you to acknowledge the fact that you don’t care about getting hurt, and you sure as hell don’t care when it hurts someone else.”

“You know I didn’t want to hurt you, Y/N/N.”

“But you did.”

“If there was another way, I would’ve-“

“There was.” You cut in sharply. “You could’ve left when everyone else did.. No one was recovered from the rubble because they couldn’t get deep enough. So as far as I’m concerned, there was no way out and you made it by some grace of your God. You didn’t have to stay down but you did. But you won’t admit that you were wrong.”

“At the time, I thought-“

“So where have you been?” You cut in again, not wanting to hear an excuse. “It’s been a very long time since you’ve been home, Matthew.”

“I thought you’d be safe.”

“So you were trying to protect me?” You laughed.

“I’ve always tried to protect you.”

“Well you didn’t. You left. You left like I was never a reason for you to stay.” You felt the sting in your chest grow sharper, begging for the attention that you weren’t giving it. Instead, it manifested as a waver in your voice as he stood and made a move around to come around Foggy’s chair.. “You left and I just let you. So really, it doesn’t matter how we choose to remember what happened between us. Because I know two things. One, that I was good and I loved you. And two, it just wasn’t enough.”

“Y/N, you’ve always been enough.” Matt tried but something over his shoulder caught his attention. 

A wave of panic washed over you, disappearing as suddenly as it came, so you took a few steps to try and see something. Along with the panic you felt an empty sadistic pride, pride in the pain caused and a complete lack of empathy. What really worried you was the familiarity of that lack of empathy.

“Matty?” You tried, looking down the hall to where that feeling came from.

“Screaming.” He said simply, moments before the light cut off. 

“Он сломал его..” You said to yourself, realizing your fake offer to help Fisk wasn’t needed and that’s why he didn’t take it when you offered. (He broke him.)

“What?” Foggy jumped up. “What does that mean?”

“It means that this just went from bad to worse. Get to Karen, get as many people as you can, and get out of here.”

“Go help him. I’ll handle this.” Matt said, trying to push you to follow Foggy.

“Not a chance.” You pushed him off. “You can't handle this on your own. Trust me.”

Matt grabbed your arm and gave a small squeeze, feeling for the usual material of your vigilante top.

“You’re not dressed for this.” He said lowly as you yanked your arm away.

“Neither are you.” You countered in the same quiet tone as you pressed against his abdomen, revealing not the hard pad of his suit, but the firm feeling of his muscles. He gave a small groan when your hand hit a still healing wound. “Unless the Devil suddenly fights in a suit and tie.”

“Y/N.” He tried.

“You’re gonna need me.” You said simply. “Keep him busy till I get there. And try not to die.”

You hurried out to your car, striping out of your FBI jacket and button-up. You threw the clothes in the back seat which left you in your vest from Melvin, your under arm holster, and a short sleeve black workout top underneath it all. You grabbed the mask and Bites from your glovebox. You hesitated at the Bites when you realized that the brace was too easy to recognize.

It was meant to absorb kickback from pulling a trigger and impact from hits, but if it truly was Dex, he would know it was you. It left your wrist vulnerable but you couldn’t risk it. You noticed your gym bag was still on the floor of your backseat. You dug through it for your wraps and quickly secured them into place, You threw the brace  in the back with your clothes and fit the mask to your face before rushing back into the building as you slipped the Bites over the wraps.

You threw the door open to the office space Karen was supposed to be when you saw him. Across the room, a familiar frame was sporting a very familiar look. He slowly turned to face you and it felt as if all the blood in your body drained out.

You expected to stand against Dex. From the second you knew Fisk wanted him, you didn’t have high hopes that you could keep him on your side. The man was a ticking time bomb from the start, and without you to keep the timer from running, it was a matter of time before you two were opposing forces.

But the fact that he wore Matt’s suit was what made you stop in your tracks.

“Thought you were dead.” You called across the room, watching his head tilt as your accent laced your words. “Been a long time, Red. I was starting to get lonely. Where’ve you been?”

He said nothing as the door was thrown open behind you. You watched as Dex smirked and pulled his arm back, a baton in hand. He launched the weapon across the room and you were quick to step in front of whoever came in after you, arms up to block your face as you braced for the impact. But the impact never came.

Lowering your arms, you saw the baton was caught by Matt. You released a small breath of relief before you shoved Foggy away. While the two boys were locked on each other, you took the chance to find a new angle.

You knew Dex was always better at a distance. He was strong but ricochets and projectiles were his strong suits. All you had to do was get in close. You were fast and precise enough that he shouldn’t be able to touch you for a while but the new problem was that Matt was in the mix.

Once there was an opening, you moved in. Matt had hit Dex hard enough to have him stagger back so you attacked from behind. You used the desk as footing and jumped off, hooking an arm around his neck as you swung yourself over his shoulder. Your fingers had closed around the material of the suit and yanked him with you, your momentum strong enough to throw him to his back. You landed on your knees and so you spun yourself and saw him pushing himself up to his elbows.

You planted both hands flat against the ground and kicked out sharply, slamming both heels against the side of his head. Once he hit the floor again, you pushed yourself through a backwards tumble and pulled a knife from your belt.

Dex turned to you and you could feel the anger from his glare. You offered a wink, which only seemed to piss him off more, before moving in first. You swiped for a familiar gap in the suit but he caught your wrist while his foot kicked out the back of your knee. He forced you to the ground and twisted your arm outward. You let out a yelp before dropping the knife to your other hand and slicing upwards, catching a space between the plates of his arm.

He dropped his hold which let you fall to the floor. Matt helped you to your feet and put his hands on either side of your head. You nodded quietly and waved away his concern so he could take over the fight.

You moved out of sight, pressing your back against the side of a desk while holding your blade between your teeth as you rubbed the aching joint. You shook your head quickly, collecting yourself enough to let your anger take control. You felt it burn through your veins instead and you rolled your shoulders to break it up before turning to peek over the desk and see what the boys were up to. Matt had knocked Dex down and you took your shot.

You slid across the top of the desk and hooked your ankles around Dex’s neck. His hands landed on your hips as he lifted you so he could slam you back against the desk. You coughed roughly but kept your hold, jamming your Bite against the exposed skin of his neck. He fell to his back, but with your ankles still locked, you were dragged down too.

You landed on top of him so you twisted your hips and leaned a knee against his throat. You freed the other foot and planted it beside his head for balance. You grabbed either arm and held them outwards, leaving him struggling under your weight.

His flailing was slowing when you were tackled off. You two rolled for a minute before Matt was on top of you.

“The hell is your problem?” You angrily pushed him off.

“You don’t even know this guy.” He reasoned breathlessly.

“You think that’ll make a difference to him? I wasn’t even gonna kill him.” You scoffed and turned to find Dex. “Yet.”

As soon as you did, you barely had a second to get your arms up. The butt end of a baton slammed into your forearms, forcing your own limbs against your face. You staggered back into Matt and you tasted blood in your mouth from how the impact slammed your teeth together hard enough to catch a piece of your cheek.

Dex slammed into you, tackling you into Matt and knocking air out of your lungs. Your head smacked the desk before you rolled over it and you could see Dex’s feet on the other side when you landed. You twisted and kicked the edge of the desk to hit Dex in the stomach.

You crawled under it and between his legs before he could stand fully. You reached under and hooked your fingers around the holster strap. You yanked him down and turned to get your feet against the ground. You pushed backwards and as you were rolling, you shifted your arms to grab his. You fell back and flattened his arm before kneeling on it. With a sharp red glow at your Bite, you lifted the weapon to fire. 

You heard Matt getting closer so you lifted your other wrist to ensure he wouldn’t stop you again. Opting for a blue glow against your newly returned partner, you fired both weapons at either man. You hurried back to your feet, punctuating your success against Dex with a swift kick to his jaw, before you made a beeline for where you saw Foggy go in.

When you heard the slam of metal on metal above you, you turned and saw the light fixture coming down. You dropped to a knee and lifted your arms, wincing slightly as the spark scattered across your exposed arms and the corner of the metal scraped your forehead.

You grabbed the metal frame and turned back, seeing Dex giving you a proud smirk as he came around the nearest desk and grabbed a handful of things from the organizer. He kept eye contact with you as he flung them at Matt, who had just made it behind an overturned desk. You gripped the frame tightly, jagged edges digging into your fingers. You rushed him quickly, momentarily distracting him from Matt. You swung the frame at him, knocking him to his back. He hurried to reach for your ankle but you jumped over, changing the grip on the frame to slam it downwards against his chest. His body jerked with the impact and he groaned as you dropped the metal on him. You made a face to yourself and moved to find Matt.

“You probably just pissed him off more.” He mumbled to you.

You gave a quick shrug and waved him off. You heard Dex yank something off a desk but Matt turned the corner to steal his attention before you could. You shook your head in disappointment as Matt was launched into the desk behind him so you went the other way.

While Matt and Dex were playing a cat and mouse game, your fingers slipped into your boot for the smoke bomb. You’d be able to see through it with your mask. You figured Matt would be fine, considering you’d seen him fight through worse. Dex was the one you needed it to be an issue for and if your train of thought was right, it would be. You moved the device into your front pocket as you crept through the office space to get to the room.

You stopped when you heard the clatter. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw a shelving unit on top of Matt and Dex slammed his boot down to knock him out.

You looked between a now-unconscious Matt with scissors sticking out of his chest and the door to your friends. Your hands began to shake slightly as you felt that familiar heat of rage crawling up your spine. You tapped your mask to see through the door, finding there was something blocking it along with four bodies huddled in the corner. With a sigh, you stood in front of the door and faced Dex again.

They’d be alright as long as you kept him focused on you, so you took all of Dex’s rage and enjoyment from the prior events and redirected it to be focused solely on you.

“Finally… You learned how to have a little fun.” You spoke simply to egg him on, slipping a hand behind you for a knife - realizing you had dropped your other one - as you feigned ignorance. “What happened to you?”

He answered with a quiet chuckle.

“What now? You try to kill me too? Is that how you treat the woman you love?” You toyed with a pout.

His head cocked to the side before a smile took over. You realized then that Dex didn’t quite know the story of Exodus and Daredevil. Fisk clearly knew, willing to use it as leverage to break you at work. But he didn’t tell Dex everything. It made you wonder exactly how long Fisk planned on using Dex, because that was an easy man to snap.

Maybe you didn't need to break Dex for Fisk. Maybe you needed to break his trust in Fisk. And destroying trust seemed to be one of the things you did best.

You both heard the sirens at the same time and you let out a sign of relief. You had been so focused on keeping Dex away from Jasper and your friends, on ensuring Matt got out alive, you had forgotten that Ray and his team were on the way. All you had to do now was stall for a few more minutes  so you left the knife where it sat at your back.

You reached into your pocket and threw the smoke bomb at Dex’s feet. Once the gray cloud erupted and your lenses adjusted, you pushed through it to slam your knee against his chest. The action forced him back against one of the temporary cubicle walls. He swung a left hook but you caught it, using it as stability to flip over and kick across his jaw. He swung a kick to your stomach as you landed but you spun to avoid it, meeting him with a roundhouse of your own that threw him to the closest desk.

You hurried around the desk as he was pushing himself

up. You put your hands on the back of his head and dropped to a knee, slamming him back down. As you turned away, the edge of the desk jammed into your hip and you were knocked to the floor. You were quickly pinned under Dex’s body weight as one of his hands looped around the strap to your vest. The other landed hard jabs to your face, hits that you were barely able to squirm away from.

You began kicking your foot, trying to knock one of the shock discs out of your boot. You tucked your knees up and shook your foot, turning your head away from his hits in time to see the circular device slip out of your boot. You squeezed your knees together around his waist and threw yourself to the side to put you on top. You leaned and grabbed the disc quickly. You held the tech between your fingers while you pulled your wire between your hands. You pressed the wire against his throat and his hands came around your wrists in a panic.

He coughed and thrashed beneath you but that only

made you press harder. You saw the drops of blood fall from your lips and land against the helmet, red on red to match the color of your vision. You pressed down harder and watched the dark bruise sprout across his throat.

His hands disappeared from your wrists and gripped the straps of your vest. He threw you over and you rolled until your side hit the edge of a cubicle wall. You groaned sharply as the impact vibrated through your old rib injury. You were getting to your hands and knees when a heavy kick slammed into your stomach, making you collapse again.

Another kick that knocked the air out of your lungs.

A third kick that made you cough sharply.

He threw a fourth kick but you turned to catch his foot. You yanked hard and he fell to his back. You slipped the disc under the top edge of your wrap near your knuckles and got up to a knee. Dex was making his way back to his feet so you used the cubicle as leverage to haul yourself up. Once Dex faced you, you threw your entire body weight into a hook that jammed the disc against his jaw. The shock jolted up your arm and you felt the joints throughout it lock up as Dex cried out. He fell to the floor with small convulsions as you felt yourself wobble slightly on your feet. You blinked hard and shook the vertigo away as your vision cleared of the manic haze.

You moved back to the door and as you were reaching for the handle, you heard a metallic clink just before you felt a sharp pain in your hip that caused you to cry out. Looking down, you saw your own discarded knife buried to the hilt at the bend of your leg. You fell against the wall, unable to support your own weight as Dex came over with a smug smirk. He used his foot to push you away from the door before breaking in.

You groaned loudly as you pressed your hand around the wound, moderately scared to try and take the blade out. Instead, you wobbled to your feet and used the door frame to hold yourself up just as you heard the gunshot. Your head snapped up and you saw Dex moving closer to Karen. You noticed a body on the floor from the corner of your eye. You turned slightly and realized it was Foggy. The sight made your knees buckle and you gripped the doorframe even tighter. Nudging the side of your mask with your shoulder, you gave it a second to load. You saw there was a heartbeat and you let out a soft sigh of relief. He was alive.

If he hadn’t been, you wouldn’t have hesitated to end Dex then and there.

“Hey!” You called out and his movements stopped, head turning slightly towards you. “You’ve gotta do better than that if you want me dead.”

“Hello, Karen. It’s nice to see you again.” Dex told her calmly and the sentence puzzled you.

Your moment’s confusion allowed him to get a hand around your throat and force you out the room, coughing and gagging as his grip grew tighter. You heard Karen calling for you but you took the concern she directed at you and moved it towards Matt, though you ensured there was enough fear in her to keep her from moving until you had Dex’s sole attention. Dex pulled you closer before slamming you into the wall behind you.

He forced you back again and again. You grabbed at his wrist and tried to push your Bites against his neck but he recognized it and slammed you before you could.

“I wasn’t gonna kill you.” He said lowly.

Head bouncing.

“But he said you would get in my way.”

 Air forced out of your lungs.

“All for that guy.”

Back slamming.

“All because you love him.”

Rib burning.

“What happened? I thought you were gonna make this fun.”

He threw you to the floor and you coughed roughly, turning to the side to try and give yourself space to move while your throat burned .

His foot forced you to your back and he slammed it down on the Bite you were trying to aim, which so happened to be the one that needed the brace. You winced loudly and he reached down for the knife in your hip. Once his eyes left yours, you reached the other hand for the gun under your arm. You stole Frank’s old move that he used against Matt and pressed the gun against Dex’s forehead.

When you felt the blade move, you pulled the trigger. The loud bang reverberated through the otherwise quiet room, rivaling the sharp cry you released as the blade shifted back to its first position.

He fell off of you and you moved as best you could to Matt and Karen. You reached them and pushed both their heads down while Dex staggered out the room, holding his head and falling occasionally.

“Y/N.” Matt mumbled, reaching for you.

“Yeah… I’m here.” You replied quietly, taking his hands in yours.

“Your leg.”

You offered a small smile, feeling some of your anger and pain melt into a soft sort of sadness. Almost like longing. “Your chest… Are you okay?”

“Are you?”

“Get out of here, okay?” You tried, looking towards the stairs and your lenses showing you Ray’s team coming. “I’ll find you when I can sneak away.”

“No.” He held your hand tighter, a desperation in his touch that made you soft - if only for a second. “No, I’m not- not leaving you.”

“Matt, you have to.” You brought his busted knuckles to your lips. Matt quickly put his hand at the side of your head, pushing his fingers into your hair, and pulled you to him to bring your lips to his. Behind your eyes, things turned a misty lavender when you felt Matt’s thumb running gentle patterns.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

Something deep in both your chests seem to snap.

“What about that guy?” Karen asked when you two separated, panic clear in her words.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You said simply, giving a determined tilt to your head.

“Y/N.” Karen tried as you stood.

“Nadeem and his team are coming. Just hang tight till he gets here.” You patted her shoulder.

She reached for your hand but you pulled away. You hobbled to the stairwell and braced yourself as you yanked the knife out. A loud yelp left you before you gritted your teeth and forced your anger down, literally. You took the anger bubbling inside - anger at Dex for betraying you, at Matt for nearly getting himself killed, at Ray for not getting there in time, at Fisk for stealing your partner, at yourself for falling so far behind in Fisk’s game - and directed it down to your joint so the wound would heat itself while you wiped the blade against the exposed bottom of your shirt. The burning made you close your eyes tight and ground your teeth so hard you thought you’d break them. When your leg no longer stung, you pushed yourself up and kept going with your bloody knife gripped tight.

When you threw the door open, you saw Dex climbing the railing. You kicked Ray’s gun from his hand and slammed your shoulder into his chest to send him tumbling a few stairs, rendering him unable to follow or attack you, before vaulting yourself over the side. Both feet collided with Dex and you two tumbled down the stairs. When you two finally landed, with you on top with a knee against the center of his chest, you jammed your knife between the protections of his suit and he shouted loudly in pain. 

“I’m leaving you alive to deliver a message.” You threatened, grabbing him by the chin to force him to look at you. “Tell your boss that I’m coming for him. And when I get to him, he’s as good as dead.”

“You’ll never get the chance.” He coughed.

You smiled slightly and twisted your knife, making him grab your hand in a panic.

“Try me.” You yanked your blade out and took off, hooking a wire around the bar before jumping the railing.

When your feet hit the ground, you flicked the wire to release it. You tucked it back into place and hurried back to your car, checking your surroundings before changing back into your original shirt and jacket. You wiped the blood off your hands and face as best you could and tucked your accessories under your seat before making your way back to the building.

You went right back up to the floor you left Karen on and found Ray in the room with her. Evans’ body was on the floor while two agents talked over him. An agent was checking on Ellison. Foggy was on Karen’s other side and Ray grabbed your arm to pull you aside. Your eyes didn’t leave your friends and they caught your gaze as you pulled. They both gave short nods that they were okay, but their concern for your well-being was more prevalent.

“Where the hell were you?” He asked tightly.

“Are they okay?” You asked instead, finally breaking eye contact to look at Ray. “My friends, Nelson and Page. Are they alright?”

He looked over his shoulder and sighed before facing you again. “Yeah, they’re fine. Nelson’s probably gonna have a black eye but other than that..”

“I was trying to help evac the lower floors while I waited for you.” You lied easily. “I couldn’t figure out what was going on and then- ” You gestured to the cut on your forehead. 

”Ah shit. You good?” His eyes flicked between yours to gauge your awareness. 

“Yeah, just knocked me down for a few seconds. I got up here as soon as I woke up. You see anything?”

“Yeah… Daredevil and his little girlfriend did this.”

“I saw a red suit but I thought I was hallucinating.” Your brows furrowed. “I would think those two would want Fisk locked up again more than anyone. This would’ve been the ticket to do it.”

“Maybe.” He nodded. “But how much you wanna bet they wanna be the ones to do it?”

“I doubt it matters who does it.” You made a face to yourself. “They don’t seem like the type that need the glory and the headlines.”

“I don’t think all of this was part of their plan. Not the girl’s at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cause she went after Daredevil. And not in a ‘my partner’s leaving me behind’ kind of way. It was like she was trying to take him down.”

“If Daredevil’s gone off the rails, she wouldn’t hesitate to stop him.” You agreed. “She’s probably the best qualified if we’re being honest. She can track him, contact him, and beat him better than any of us can.”

“Question now is why'd he snap.”

“If he snapped.”

“What do you mean?” His head tilted in interest. “You don’t think he’s lost it?”

“I’m from Hell’s Kitchen, right?” You explained and he nodded along. “I’ve seen this guy work. I’ve seen both of them work. This?” You gestured around. “This isn’t how they work. Not even the girl.”

“What are you trynna say?”

You glanced around, noted the puddles of blood from reporters. The trashed office scene. Pencils and pens stuck into the bottom of overturned desks. Shattered computer screens and fallen lights. Torn papers and loose cables. You sighed and turned back to Ray.

“I don’t know.” You lied. “But something doesn’t feel right about this.”

[darsynia]

Upside Down and Backwards | Oneshot

I'm glad I worked out the angle that made this story less a rehash of Animate Objects, because I enjoyed writing it and wanted to share! I wanted to add I am deeply honored that you suggested that I write one of your OCs. I was so touched I kind of blocked that out the first time, my dear @sobeautifullyobsessed, because I didn't know what to say, and I feel like that was a disservice to you.

Summary: Stephen understands why the best place to train new devotees to the Mystic Arts is Kamar Taj when he impulsively saves the life of a young woman. It turns out he trained himself on all sorts of mindfulness-- except for the kind where he sees someone he wants and steals her from fate's grasp without thought to the consequences.

Length/Warnings: 2,544 / rated T for swearing

UPSIDE DOWN AND BACKWARDS

The problem with having access to actual magic is that in the real world, you’re not instantly granted the discernment to use it un-chaotically.

In retrospect, that was probably why the Ancient One and her predecessors trained people in Kamar Taj: to keep large mistakes at a minimum.

It’s not that Stephen thinks of himself as a novice, it’s just that he’s recently gone through a sequence of life-changing events, and that kind of thing changes a man. Enough to make him incapable of watching someone else go through a life- ending event without intervening.

The moment had been simple enough; one second he was standing in front of his favorite cafe with a to-go cup, the next he was sending you into the mirror dimension with a sweep of his hand. The old man’s sedan didn’t hit you, instead crashing into the building across the street with considerably less energy than it would have without Stephen’s interference. Everything happened fast enough that he was able to jog across the street, enter the mirror dimension to find you standing dumbstruck and confused. He’d led you out through a portal back to a nearby alleyway, and before you could say anything, Stephen had portaled back to the Sanctum.

It wasn't until he went to take his first sip of his coffee that he noticed it was gone.

A mysterious stranger saved your life. He’d also given you coffee.

It’s days later, and you’re still bemused. You’d gone home and looked up ‘Avengers’ in an incognito window, but none of the pictures had looked familiar. Statistically speaking, those particular heroes are unlikely to be the only ones who exist, but you’re understandably obsessed by how and why you were saved. 

The only other clue you have is the coffee he’d handed you, and since today is your day off, you head down to the cafe it came from, seeking answers. 

You’re in luck: the barista recognizes your description of the man (you’re not surprised. He’s distinctive and handsome, certainly memorable), remembers the drink he usually gets, and only then thinks to tell you that he’d been there ten minutes ago.

“Do you know where he came from?” you ask, and the barista gives you a sly look. “He saved my life,” you explain, feeling oddly like that should be a secret between yourself and the stranger, somehow. “I ended up with his coffee-- I just want to return the favor.” --and ask him a million questions, confront him about how in the heck he did what he did, where he came from, where he’s going, whether he’d maybe like to have coffee WITH you sometime--

This seems to earn you the young woman’s trust, and she points out which way to head. You don’t think you can catch up, but it’s a nice day, and you don’t know how else to find him.

Five minutes into your hurried pace, though, you suddenly find yourself in a garden, with no idea how you got there. You catch a glimpse of golden sparks in your peripheral vision, and alarm floods your senses. Determined not to go down without a fight, you take the lid off of your piping hot coffee, tossing the liquid at the tall figure that’s approaching you.

“Aurghhhh!” the man hollers, as you drop into the kind of fighting stance you’ve seen on tv shows. He moves his hands in a strange way, and an odd blue light flickers to life, bathing his body in its glow for a few seconds, before he straightens and frowns at you. “I suppose I deserved that.”

It’s your handsome (somehow dry and un-stained) stranger.

“What do you want?” you say, snatching your keys from your pocket and trying to arrange them between your knuckles like you’d seen in a YouTube video once. The man is silent, and you look over to see his skeptical expression, complete with expressive eyebrows. “Just because you have magical powers doesn’t mean I give in without a fight!” you grumble.

“No, no, I’m impressed,” your captor says.

He sounds anything but. You try to take in your surroundings in a way that won’t reveal your next move, but he gestures to the courtyard that borders the small garden you’re standing inside.

“I thought the garden would be soothing. A non-threatening space.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Are there mountains in the distance? You back up a little bit, adjusting your stance so there’s a column in the way of the view you refuse to believe is real. The man before you is similarly unrealistic; handsome, clearly powerful in a mysterious way, and confident. Your fatal weakness.

The man is nodding. “All right, in retrospect, kidnapping you after wordlessly saving your life using inexplicable means is the opposite of reassuring. I swear, when I planned this, it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way!”

“So you’re admitting to premeditated kidnapping? Smooth, real smooth,” you say, sidestepping to stand next to instead of in front of the plant you’d been cowering near. There’s a wooden sign on a stake planted in the ground next to it, and you intend on grabbing it in a minute. Unfortunately, you’ve telegraphed your intentions.

“Will you just--” he says in an exasperated voice-- and suddenly, you’re being lifted in midair in a haze of golden magic. “Listen to me?”

“You’re really used to getting your way, aren’t you?” you blurt out. For some reason, the man’s bizarre blunders and frustration are reassuring in ways his grandiose displays are not. Not that you’re going to tell him that. He’d probably look smug and then you’d really be in trouble.

His brows are furrowed. “Yes, actually.”

“How long has it been since you’ve needed to say please?” The man’s hands drop to his sides, consequently dropping you to your feet. You’re rather proud of the way you manage to keep your balance, in the face of all of this. To press your advantage, you say, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I was taught the golden rule. Do unto others, and all that. So: please explain what the everliving heck is going on?”

He should be angry. He should be affronted. Instead, Stephen’s captivated. You are uncowed, unsoothable, and somehow undaunted in the face of everything he’s done. Hell, he’d almost accidentally dropped you on your ass, and you’d landed on your feet.

“‘What’s going on?’ I thought I saved a damsel in distress, but it turns out I’ve abducted a wildcat instead!” he says, just to see what your reaction will be. 

“Exactly what would you expect a person to do in this situation?” You are incredulous, but even so, you seem to be looking around for a weapon of some sort.

All of a sudden, it strikes him that you might be unconsciously ramping up based on his own vehemence. Taking in a deep breath, he connects with the mindfulness he’d only touched lightly back in his surgeon days, the kind he’d perfected in his first months at Kamar Taj. You’d been tensing up like you were about to run, maybe grab hold of something nearby, but you let out a breath of your own and watch him.

“Frankly, I’d expect you to be afraid of my power,” he says quietly, sliding a casual hand into his trouser pocket. “I’m not in the whole sorcerer getup today.” Stephen leans forward conspiratorially, adding, “I feel certain if I were, you’d have been a little cowed.”

“I do recall some kind of blue contraption,” you muse.

Contraption! He almost, almost gets upset, but as Stephen circles you to slough off some of his frustration, he sees a bit of a twinkle in your eyes. You do seem attuned to him-- but that doesn’t mean you’ve ceased fighting back.

You’re just doing it in a different way.

“All right, Java Joe the All Powerful, what do you really want? I could have plans you’re disrupting with this, you know.”

Java Joe? You fight dirty, it seems. He stops in his tracks to slowly turn toward you. For a long moment, the two of you look at each other, and he watches the signs of embarrassment rise in your body language. Even so, you don’t look away despite starting to shift your weight from foot to foot, and he feels something stir deep inside.

Right as your hands start to jitter at your sides, Stephen raises a single eyebrow.

You burst out laughing.

Stephen grits his teeth and waits, but not because he’s annoyed. Oh, no. It’s worse than that. He grits his teeth to prevent a smile. You’re a handful, and he’s been alone a long time.

“Well played,” you finally say, lifting your chin. “I’d ask forgiveness for the shitty coffee nickname, but I don’t think your dignity suffered a whit there. I just have to ask: have you ever looked at yourself when you lift an eyebrow like that? It’s just the most--” 

“Go on.”

You angle your head sideways at the tone of his voice, your eyes narrowing, and Stephen’s breath catches. Is there a way you can sense his inner turmoil?

It seems that you can, because you step forward. “I was going to say it was very dramatic, maybe even villainous, but I’ve changed my mind about you. You’re no villain.”

“Am I meant to be disappointed?” Stephen can’t help but ask.

Your smile is lovely, sending another tremor toward his heart’s hastily-erected sheath of armor. “Not at all, because I think you know that heroes are still dangerous. I can rephrase, if you like.” With a regal dignity that makes him mentally dress you as some kind of Roman empress, you bow before him, pulling yourself back up to a stand as you say, “All Powerful one, tell me why I’m here?” You meet his gaze and brazenly raise a single eyebrow of your own.

In that moment, Stephen understands why he’d saved you. He wants you. He’d somehow known that in the split second your paths crossed-- but would he have done it if he’d realized that by saving your life, he might end up being responsible for it?

“Hardly ‘all powerful,’ but close,” he says smoothly, walking closer. Only when he’s inches away and you’re still standing tall and unafraid does Stephen speak again. “I wanted to know what you thought happened that day. Then I didn’t want you to lash out before I got to--” he breaks off, surprised at himself. The things he wants to say, the things he wants to do, they’re not ‘day we met’ kinds of things.

They might be, though, if your time is short.

“What is it?” you murmur, looking worried again.

Stephen smiles, feeling the sweetness along with the bitter realization that his gut is usually right. If it is, he might have a fight with fate on his hands.

“I stole you away,” he whispers. It’s been forever since he’s done this, snatched someone from death’s grasp. Usually he puts them back together better than nature had. He’s never put someone back together with magic before. “I suppose I’m afraid I don’t get to keep you.”

The words fall out before he can stop them, but you drift forward rather than back, as though the seismic sway he’s been feeling might have harmony to it.

“Before I react to that, tell me what you mean?” you say, your eyes searching his.

“I hadn’t meant to say--” Stephen starts, but shakes his head decisively. “I’ve saved lives before, with skill. I don’t know whether there are different rules for lives saved with magic.”

Your eyes widen, but with awe, not fear. “So you really mean ‘keep,’ don’t you! You think some sort of Cosmic Conservator will come and fix the glitch?” Stephen nods. “Who says you’re not the Conservator?”

With the same split-second impulsiveness that he used to save your life, Stephen reaches out and draws the back of his fingers across your cheek. The touch is electric, stunning his vocal cords to a deeper register. 

“Would a Conservator do this?” he says, right before his lips brush yours.

You’re delighted by the shocking heat of his touch. There’s an instant yearning that takes over both of you after that first testing press, as though it could be possible to attune to a person’s charge within seconds of tasting them.

Somehow, without knowing his name, you trust this man, both as a function of seeing his frustration (something almost as intimate as feeling the prickle of his beard as the kiss goes on), and knowing he’s saved you at least once. There’s something desperately moral about him, almost arrogantly so, and you tug him closer, hoping to spark more frustration and thus another thrill.

From across the courtyard, there’s the sound of voices, of many feet, and you slide your hands down from clutching his collar to press on his chest, reluctant to stop but unsure of your surroundings. The man gentles the kiss so sweetly that you’re left reeling when he does pull back.

“My name is Stephen,” he whispers with a thin, vulnerable smile. “I’m doing this all out of order, and I have to make you angry with me again, because--”

Breaking off without explanation, Stephen pulls you to his side and swings one hand in a circle in front of you, drawing up the golden electricity you’d seen more than once before. It leads to the very spot he’d kidnapped you from.

“You left me with a coffee, last time. Is the kiss more valuable, do you think?” you say, clasping your arms around yourself to bolster your stung confidence. 

Stephen’s response is another unexpected kiss, brief but heartfelt. He leads you through the sparking archway right afterwards, his expression stern but earnest as he takes your hand.

“Why do I feel like I’m already in danger of leaving my heart behind?” he whispers, shaking his head as though he’s as stunned at the possibility as you are. It feels right, though, and you want to tell him that, but Stephen stops you. “Hold still, I--” 

His hands are already moving, generating neon runic symbols in the air that hover for a few seconds before rushing towards you to disappear in splashes of magical light.

“Protection spell. I have to go, but something tells me you'll subsist on curiosity and fury until I can step away again.”

“That’s a given,” you manage to say through the spinning of your heart and head. Things like this don’t happen to ordinary people like you, but you suppose that no one is ordinary, once Stephen takes notice of them. “Stephen?” you blurt out, after he steps back, obviously about to leave. He lifts his eyebrows, and you say, “Take care of it, will you?”

“Of?”

“The part of my heart you stole away. We still have to find out whether it belongs to you or Death, right?”

Stephen’s grin is blinding. “Right. I’ll, ah…” he steps back into the halo of his portal and lifts his chin, a picture of utter confidence. “I’ll pull some strings.”

His smile is the last thing you see as the whirl of the portal closes between you.

[dragonjesterwrites]

could u maybe write how Sun and Moon would handle a best friend with depression having a bad ‘can’t get out of bed’ type of day? I know this is a bit heavy so it’s ok if u don’t wanna write it ❤️

No you're good! I've had a fair few of those days myself, no fun whatsoever, so it's nice to have a little hurt/comfort to write and read later. Also I'm so, so sorry this took so long Nonnie, as an apology I poured in all the cute I had in the writing kitchen

TW: Implied depression, err platonic cuddling? Technically no romance (although I'm gonna come clean and admit I originally missed the "best friend" bit sgshjs so sorry again Nonnie) it's supposed to be platonic, but you could read it as romance if ya fancy. Annnnd I think that's it!

Hey Moony :) For the most part, everything's going swell! Only… a couple of things going on. Javier had to go home early, he had a liiii-ttle bit too much Fizzy Faz and got sick (it's been all cleaned up now though, don't worry.)

The other thing is about our friend. I think they're upset. Can you check on them, Moony? They just kept saying they're fine, but I don't think they are :(

Moon let his gaze linger on the note in his hands a moment longer, a twinge of concern sparking through his wires and tightening his chest. 

He folded the note with nimble fingers and tucked it inside the hidden pocket of his pants, before reaching up and pulling the spare blanket he'd come for off the creaky shelving, gaze sweeping across the inventory for something that might help if something was wrong.

A glint of light caught Moon's attention from the floor as he padded sideways, and he stopped to consider it. Well… worth a try. Better than anything else in here.

After plucking the object off the floor, he exited the storage closet with rolled blankets pinned under his arms, silently nudging the disguised door shut behind him with a slippered foot.

Despite the bells, Moon had gotten good at being sneaky, and the children were not alerted to his presence, allowing him to add the new blankets to the nap area without interruption.

He snuck glances over at you from where you sat, surrounded by the little ones and with a large storybook open on your lap. Even with his night vision, he couldn't quite make out your face, but the abnormal lack of enthusiasm in your voice only made his worry grow. There was variation between characters, enough to keep the children enraptured, but it carried a distinct tiredness behind it, and Moon wanted nothing more than to swaddle you up and take you somewhere nice and cozy.

"Mr. Moon?"

A whisper in the dark and a tug at his pant leg caught his attention, and he peered down at the tot that had snuck up on him, starry fabric clutched in her hand.

"Hello, little Kiera. Is everything okay?" Moon crouched and tilted his faceplate, the girl's curious expression bathed in blue light.

Kiera nodded, then gave a toothy smile and pointed at the blanket he'd just set down. "Can I be a shoo-shi roll?"

Moon let out a quiet chuckle and booped her nose affectionately, pleased at the giggle it caused. "Of course you can." In Moon's experience, nothing quite put a smile on a human's face like watching other humans be silly. And fifty giggling human children wrapped up in blankets was certainly a very silly sight. Not to mention adorable.

Kiera laid down on the blanket, cheeks puffed out as a result of trying- and failing- to contain her laughter, and Moon began to roll her up, an amused noise of his own slipping out. 

"How's that? Not too tight?" Moon asked once he was finished, and Kiera shook her head quickly.

"It's perfect! I'm a swordfish!"

Moon's frame shook with nigh-silent laughter as he scooped her up under his arm, gently shushing her when she squealed in delight. "You certainly are. Now, shall we go get your brother?"

"Yea! He can be a tuna! And Lisa can be a crab, annnd Victor can be a salmon, and…"

Moon had timed it just right so that you had finished the story upon their arrival, and as he predicted, within seconds of spotting Kiera happily being toted around as a tuna roll, every last child had also wanted to be transformed into sushi.

It didn't take much longer than that to get the children to sleep- Moon could personally attest to how comfortable being rolled up into a blanket was, having tried it himself out of curiosity- and he was able to make his way over to you where you were sat in the beanbag, completely still apart from where your thumb softly stroked the gilded spine of the closed book you looked down upon.

Upon his approach, you blinked, then raised your head slowly. The lingering worry that had been ever-present jumped to a full on buzz of concern when he caught a glimpse of just how tired you looked before you smiled. But it didn't quite reach your eyes, the usual lively gleam gone.

"Hello, Starlight." Moon whispered, slipping his hand into his pocket to pull out the object he'd plucked from the storage closet. "Sunny said you seemed upset. Penny for your thoughts?"

Your attention flickered to the copper coin he held pinched between silicone fingers and thumb, and you huffed in quiet amusement after a moment.

"Ah, you know him. He's always worried." You offered him a small smile, then turned your gaze back to the book. Moon hesitated, then slipped the coin back in his pocket. That wasn't a denial, but you clearly didn't want to talk about it either. Hm.

"M-Moony?" Your eyes widened as Moon flopped down beside you and pulled you into his embrace, his front pressed to yours, faceplate gently nuzzling the top of your head while his arms cradled you close.

"Is this okay?" He murmured, long fingers woven in your hair pausing their slow scratching.

"I- yeah, but, the kids-"

"The little ones are fine, fast asleep. They all had a Moondrop before their nap."

You were silent, but you moved in closer, arms winding around him, and he resumed gently rubbing circles on the back of your head.

A muffled noise caught his attention, and he paused briefly to listen. It came again, slightly more audible this time, and again, now accompanied by your body beginning to tremble and shake in his arms. Oh, Starlight.

"It's okay. Let it out. I've got you." Moon murmured, shifting to let you in more as you squeezed at him.

"I-I'm sorry." Came the choked reply after a minute, and he shook his head above you.

"You've nothing to be sorry for."

"But I- I'm crying all over your ruffles." You whispered, fingers flexing where they clutched at his shoulder, and Moon let out an amused hum.

"Starlight. Do you have any idea how much drool, vomit, and snot the Daycare accumulates on a daily basis?"

"Gross." He felt your brow furrow against his shoulder, but heard the short giggle you let out.

"Mmhmm. Tears are sanitary, at least. And-" His voice softened. "I meant it when I said there's no need to be sorry. But, you know you don't have to be so strong all the time. It's okay to not be okay."

"...I know." Your voice was quiet, cracking again. "I just- I didn't want to burden you two with my problems. You already have so much to deal with."

If Moon had a heart, it would certainly have shattered. Even on your bad days, you still held such care for others. Even others like him and Sun, literal machines designed to handle fifty children and all their problems. Of course, they were more than machines, and they did get stressed, thank you very much Corporate, but-

"Starlight, we adore you, you're our best friend. As far as we're concerned, your problems are our problems. You can always come and talk to us, about anything. You are not a burden." Moon moved his hand to rub your trembling back as he spoke, music box clicking to life within him.

For awhile, the two of you lay together without speaking, only the soothing chimes of the music box, Moon's machinery, and the sound of your breathing as it deepened and slowed filled the air, and the lunar animatronic became vaguely aware of slipping into a restful trance of his own.

But the disappointing, telltale clicks and whirs of the generators powering up soon roused him, and he focused blearily on his internal clock. Thirty minutes already?

"Starlight?" He began as the two of you slowly untangled yourselves. You looked up at him- definitely still tired, but the mood scan indicated you were content, at least. "Would you like to stay over tonight, for a sleepover in our room?"

"Oh." You looked surprised for a moment, then smiled, looking a bit like yourself again. "Yeah, I'd love to. Are you… sure it's okay?"

"Yes. I apologize that we didn't allow you to visit sooner, we just had to ensure it was clean… and there would be no issues for you to navigate up there." The distinct, loud whirs of the dial around his and Sun's room balcony reminded him to hurry, and he helped you to your feet. "I'll send you the route via your Fazwatch. And, Stardust?"

"Mm?"

"I'm glad you're here."

~~~~~

Sun perked up as he picked up on the sound of footsteps outside the secret entrance to his and Moon's room. Well, perked up more than he already was- he'd been bouncing around excitedly ever since he'd read Moon's note.

He leapt off the edge of the bed and swung the door open, and you only got a split second to look surprised before he was picking you up, giggling and nuzzling against you as he carried you in.

"Hello to you too!" You laughed, and Sun twirled you around, letting out a boisterous laugh of his own.

"Dewdrop! Oh, I'm so happy to see you!" His rays fluttered and pulsed as he finally set you down on the bed, dropping to a crouch next to you and digging through a bag pre-placed at the foot of the bed. "Moony told me you weren't feeling well after all, so I got out my best sleepover supplies! I, ah, had to borrow some from the lost and found, but I'll return them tomorrow."

He pulled out a stack of dvds, placing them next to you and giving them a little pat, then turned back to the bag and pulled out some hot cocoa packets, a rolled up electric blanket- "no heating when the lights go out, but this should keep you warm until they come back on!" -and roughly thirty popcorn bags.

You slid off the bed and kneeled next to him, wrapping your arms as best you could around the large animatronic and burying your head in his chest, prompting him to let out a soft 'oh' and hug you back. "Thank you, Sunny."

"Of course." He whispered, squeezing you tight. "Can't have my Sunshine upset, hm? I'm prescribing allllll the cuddles."

"That sounds lovely." Sun heard you murmur, and he took that as his cue, easily scooping you up and carrying you onto to the bed.

"Then cuddles you shall have!" He declared, playfully growling as he wrapped his arms around you and rolled onto to the bed. It warmed every last part of him to hear you shriek with laughter, swatting at him and making him giggle too. You really were precious to him and Moon.

And he wanted you to know that, too, so even throughout the movie, and the second, and the third, even after you had fallen into what seemed to be a very peaceful, deep sleep halfway through, Sun made sure to hold you close under the warm blankets, periodically whispering quiet assurances and letting the sound of your heartbeat lull him to a rare rest.

[mochiwrites]

i. show me the world outside

master list | chapter two

summary: how grian and iskall came to be, their origins, and the start of their journey.

Sitting down with a heavy sigh, a young man sits on a cliff face. The ocean waves crash into the rocks below him, and he leans back. His eyes fall shut as he listens along to the waves, feeling comfort in the familiar sounds.

The breeze sweeps through his ashen blond hair, clothes moving in the gentle breeze. There’s a smile on his face, taking in the environment around him.

“You know, you make it very easy to sneak up on you.”

He pops an eye open as he tilts his head back fully. He smiles as he meets a very familiar face. He looks into light green eyes, sees the short brown hair. “You know, you try that every time and you always fail, Iskall.” He teases.

The other laughs in reply, moving out from behind him and sitting beside him. “I’ll get you one of these days.” He hums, bumping their shoulders together. Iskall turns to stare out into the ocean, eyes full of fondness. “Back to staring at the ocean, eh, Grian?”

“What can I say, it’s alluring.” Grian answers, settling his gaze on him rather than the sea. “It’s like a reminder. There’s a whole world out there, beyond this orphanage, you know?” He murmurs, “It’s just waiting to be explored.”

Iskall watches him talk, eyes shining with fondness. He has a smile on his face as he listens to Grian talk. “It is.” He agrees, voice going soft. Grian’s ambition is always something he’s admired about the other. His spark. It’s probably what drew him to Grian in the first place.

They’ve been at this orphanage together for years now, Iskall even longer. He first came here because he lost his parents to starvation. His family was never that lucky with money, his father had to work two or sometimes even three jobs to keep them sheltered and fed.

And when the famine hit his hometown… it wasn’t enough anymore.

Iskall wound up in the orphanage soon after. Grian showed up about two years later. His mother had dropped him off on the front door step, promising to return. Yet she never did.

The older kids found it fun to poke fun at Grian and his insistence that his mother would come back for him.

Iskall normally kept to himself, not all that interested in engaging with the other kids. Yet he was curious about Grian, seeing the way he fought back against the teasing. His eyes shone with a kind of light that Iskall had never seen before. He had seen the other covered in bruises from getting into fights so often. Yet the bruises never wiped his smile away.

It had been enough to draw Iskall from his solitude, to pull himself to the magnet that was Grian. He had watched a fight break out once again, and he stepped in. They’ve been friends ever since, and Iskall has never been happier to orbit the pull Grian seems to have on him.

With a little hum, Iskall lets his eyes sweep over the ocean in front of them. He joins Grian in leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” He starts, and Grian snorts.

“That’s never a good thing.”

“Hey!” Iskall laughs, and Grian grins at him. “Anyways, as I was trying to say before someone rudely interrupted me, I’ve been thinking… what’s stopping us from finally going and exploring that ocean?” He questions, and he can practically feel Grian freeze beside him.

“What?” He asks, staring at Iskall with owl like eyes.

“Don’t look so surprised!” Iskall exclaims, a smile dancing across his lips. “C’mon G, think about it! We’re practically adults now, we don’t have to stay here anymore. Everyone else is just too nice to kick us out.”

“I’m only eighteen, and you’re only nineteen. I don’t think that really counts as adults, Iskall.” Grian retorts, though he’s smiling. “But you… you really want do it?” He questions, something akin to shyness lacing his voice as he does. He’s looking at Iskall with hope, vulnerability.

“I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t.” Iskall replies, taking Grian’s vulnerability and holding it gently in his hands. He takes one of Grian’s hands in his own, squeezing it. “We’ve both been stuck here. It’s like you said, there’s so much to explore. There’s an entire world that we haven’t seen yet, why not start now?” He grins and Grian beams brightly at him. It makes Iskall’s chest swell with warmth.

“Let’s do it.” Grian squeezes Iskall’s hand in return, and a laugh bubbles up from his chest. “We’re gonna do it! We’re really gonna set sail!” He exclaims cheerfully.

“We absolutely are. And I know just the thing to start with.” Iskall hums, and Grian looks at him with excitement. There’s a new sparkle in his eyes, one that Iskall never wants to see leave.

“Oh?”

“Interested in going on a hunt for the Heart of the Sea?” Iskall questions, raising a brow.

The Heart of the Sea is an interesting piece of treasure. No one has been able to find it, yet there are just about a million different rumors that surround it. It’s the secret to immortality. It gives you the power to control the sea. You name it.

“That’s a lofty goal.” Grian says, but he doesn’t look dissuaded.

“But it’s a good one, hmmm?” Iskall hums. “Following a rumored treasure like that is going to put us all over the world!”

“And you say I’m the ambitious one.” Grian chuckles. “But I’m all in. Even if we never find it… the chance to go on that kind of adventure, I’d be a fool to turn that down.”

“Yes!” Iskall cheers, throwing his arms up in the air. He’s still holding on to Grian’s hand though, so he tugs his arm up as well.

Grian laughs along with him, raising his other arm too. The two of them fall backwards onto the soft grass behind them. The ocean below continues to meet the rocks, creating a soothing sort of white noise. They stare up at the sky, looking right at the moon hanging in the darkness. Stars are speckled throughout the blanket of the night.

“Iskall?”

“Hm?”

“Pinch me to make sure I’m — ow! You couldn’t have let me finish first?!”

Iskall cackles, pulling his hand back from Grian’s side. “What? You should know it doesn’t take much to get me to pinch you.” He grins at Grian’s pout. “But no. You’re not dreaming. I’ve got us a boat and everything. We’re set to leave in the morning.”

“Seriously?!” Grian laughs and props himself up on his elbow, “What if I had said no?” He asks, looking at Iskall with a raised brow.

Shrugging, Iskall replies rather cheekily, “I was pretty confident that you’d say yes.”

Grian gives another laugh at that, shaking his head. “You know me too well.” He sighs softly, laying back down. Their hands are still connected, fingers interlaced. He stares up at the stars, “I’ve dreamed about being on the sea with you for years, and now it’s really happening.”

“Awww, you kept me in your dreams?” Iskall teases, which results in Grian attempting to shove him. He laughs.

“Don’t give me that! You and I both know I’d be lost out on the ocean without your technological knowledge.” Grian grumbles. “Besides, you and I are a pair, I hope you know.”

Iskall rolls onto his side to face Grian, bringing their hands to his line of sight. “We are? That’s news to me.” He jokes, and Grian playfully rolls his eyes as he turns over to face him as well. Iskall squeezes his hand again, “It’s you and I against the world, yeah?”

Grian smiles, “Us against the world.” And then he hums, “Though, if we’re going on an adventure this lofty, we should probably get a crew together and all that.”

“Ah. Right…”

[writerseven]

“I talked to Ives and he’s, uh, free tomorrow,” Tim says, clasping his cape on before patrol, “so I though we might try to...hang out?”

The ending takes on much more of a questioning lilt than he intended, but he’s still not expecting it when Bruce says, “No.”

He hasn’t looked up from pulling on his own boots. There’s no way Tim misheard him, across two feet of space in the empty cave, but, “What?”

“I said no.” Bruce does look up then, but maybe only because he’s done with the boots. “Tell him you’re busy.”

“But I’m...” Not. Tim swallows the word. Bruce lifts an eyebrow, like he heard it anyway.

“I need you here,” he says simply.

Tim knew, in the back of his mind, that Bruce might be—upset, maybe, about him leaving half the day. But Tim so rarely gets a free weekend in Gotham, and he hardly sees his civilian friends outside of school anymore. Ives texting has been a welcome distraction all evening, especially considering none of the Titans have checked in about his last-minute absence.

(Which is a good thing, he knows. Because Tim hasn’t learned the excuse, and wouldn’t know what to say, and it means Bruce has already done a perfect job of explaining it away. It just would have been nice, is all, to hear from them.)

But he didn’t really consider that Bruce would just refuse. Like Tim said he wanted to give Ives a guided tour of the Batcave.

“Need me for what?” says Tim. Bruce gives him a flat look, but the spark has been lit. “I mean, I’d be back for patrol. What does it matter if we hang out in the afternoon? I’m usually not here on Sunday anyway.”

“Being Robin takes dedication and responsibility,” Bruce says, strapping his gloves on. “I thought you understood that.”

He strides away.

“I do,” Tim says. He barely remembers to grab his own gloves in the rush to follow Bruce out of the changing area. “But I—”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised after your recent behavior,” Bruce says over him, cape sweeping dramatically behind him.

Tim feels like a kid, having to jog two steps to keep up with one of his. “What recent behavior?”

“You’re barely here,” Bruce says.

“I’m here plenty!”

“Argumentative.” Bruce cuts him a look. Tim’s mouth snaps shut. “Ill-tempted. Volatile moods. Rushing in just before patrol starts, or leaving as soon as it ends. Training half as much.”

Tim wrings the gloves in his hand. That’s not true. That’s—mostly not true. His ears burn. At least there are no witnesses as Bruce lists off his failings, not slowing through the central terminal and towards the cars.

“If you were a normal boy, I’d say problems at home. Or drugs.”

“Bruce.” Tim would never do drugs.

Bruce pauses at the top of the ramp to the cars to incline his head in acknowledgment. “But obviously you’re not a normal boy. You’re better than that.” He fixes Tim under his gaze. “And I expect better of you.”

Part 15 of the props series

[ddazzlingblds-archive]

@loiyaltie: "So, you are making this a regular thing..." The first time Sampo had shown up with breakfast he'd been suspicious, and the subsequent times hadn't done much to alleviate it. Nigh on a fortnight later, he's beginning to accept the routine. "What's sparked this?" He has to admit, he enjoys the warmth of food at the start of his day, it makes a good change from rations. And if he's being honest, the good cheer certainly helps start his morning.

      a flutter of his lashes, so innocent and taken aback by the question. there's a secret quirk of his smile directed specifically at the blond, something undecifrable by others. “ just doing it out of the goodness of my own heart! but, sigh━ you wouldn't believe me, right? captain? ”

      in fact, anybody who had even a sliver of knowledge of Sampo's character would have seen him bundling up in a fluffy coat and bringing plenty of warm food through the harsh climate of the Restricted Zone... uncharacteristic, to put it mildly. a fool's errand, walking into a lair of people itching to arrest him- in fact, it was a dangerous predicament- until he started bringing warm food with him.

      “ but, in fact... it's just all that there is to it! since now i'm dutifully following the law and being a model citizen, i got plenty of free time. gotta busy myself with doing something productive, something nice- and isn't this a good way to start? ” the smile he shoots Gepard is dazzling, the snow crystals already beginning to form over what of his hair dares to peek out of the fluffy coat hood's containment.

      in fact, the arresting ratio has lowered dramatically since he started to pop up like an hero every morning, on the clock, with packed, steamy breakfasts that seemingly refuse to give their warmth up.

      “ thought i'd take the first step in burying the hatchet, turning the page- now that Belobog is trying to heal. just a little, good action from your friend Sampo Koski, for all the troubles his mischief caused, yes? an apology... ? ”

      he's really playing it up, and purely for fun. there's an half-truth and an half-lie to anything- and nobody will try to figure it out when there's warm, delicious food to be had. even when a wanted criminal brings it, it sure must look like the coming of something sacred.

      ( if the more gullible guards have started to enthusiastically say hi to him on the streets, the snicker they receive behind their back is earned. )

      “ i bet nobody thinks about you lots, freezing your toes off while defending the city, ” with a graceful sweep of the coat's backside, he's sitting right by Gepard's side, looking as comfortable as if he was resting on something extremely comfortable- and a brown bag is handled to him, steam rising from it while bright green eyes watch him, almost amused. “ luckily, Sampo is here for you- and he doesn't forget. ”

      though, allowed to do so by his right as breakfast bringer, there comes food out of his pocket too- something resembling a wrapped pocket pie, scenting ever so light of apples. now there's the littlest mischief in his smile as he offers that out, like a peace token.

      “ want a bite, Gep? i can guarantee, it'll warm you up better than coffee. ”

[the-berf]

To my absolute surprise, the friends with BDSM benefits fic has turned into a bit of a monster (so many kinks to try, so much learning to do, so many awkward situations to laugh off/talk through). So while that's brewing away, have some Carmy suffering. Dedicated to @trickstermoose67 who is a well of inspiration and patience. And to another very very dear friend who (probably) does not yet know this blog is run by a fool they know.

Yet They Came

All the shouting, arguing and stress was exhausting. Stuck in the fridge, Carmy sank to the ground. He'd chased everyone away, Richie was right, he was just like his mother. Claire was gone, he'd abandoned Syd when he promised he wouldn't, everyone heard his not so little meltdown so probably half the kitchen staff will never return. Absentmindedly, he rubbed at his lip. After everything, he'd still fucked up. Syd had been right, he was a piece of shit.

There was the sound of some powertool or other but Carmy was only distantly aware of it. A hollow emptiness ate away at him, it weighed him so far down that he was almost weightless. Sparks were flashing through the crack of the door and while his eyes followed them, Carmy's brain was loud static. Maybe he should have been left in the fridge, let the rest of his body be as cold as his heart. It wasn't like The Bear needed him, not really. They had proven that in the space of one night.

The flashes were getting brighter and more frequent with sparks which burned out, so much like Carmy himself. His time to shine had been brief and he'd snuffed it out before anything could truly come of it. More sparks, there was a glow emanating from the lock. With a final clunk there was a bright flash and Carmy jerked back with rapid blinks, momentarily blinded by whatever the tool was.

Mind snapping back into his body, Carmy rose on creaky knees. He didn't want to think about how much it was going to cost to get the fridge door replaced. He didn't want to think about coming back the next day and looking the remaining staff in the eye. He didn't want to think about anything at all.

As expected, nobody was waiting from him on the other side except for the guy who freed him. He'd send an invoice and Carmy would settle the bill then. Watching him walk out, Carmy was left alone in the spotless kitchen. There was nothing left to do. They got it all done without him. Rather than anger at his own restaurant not needing him, Carmy felt a resigned acceptance. Deep down, he'd always known he wasn't needed by anyone or anything. But it would have been nice to be. Turning the lights off, he headed home.

The next day Marcus opened up as usual. But Carmy wasn't in at his usual time. Instead the others filtered in. Tina, Syd, Ebra, Sweeps, Richie. One by one they came and settled into the routine of morning prep. Nobody said anything about Carmy's absence even as they kept looking around.

As the lunch rush started kicking off, Nat came in looking flustered. She looked around the kitchen, stuck her head in the office then returned to the expo.

"Where is he?"

"We assumed he's taken a day off," Syd replied between calls. "Yesterday was pretty shit for him."

"He's not replying to texts. He's not here. So where the fuck is my brother?"

"Hey, Sug." Richie's voice had a soothing edge to it. "He's probably just feeling sorry for himself. Why don't I try and call him, have a bit of a man-to-man chat, yeah?"

Despite his words he looked a little wide eyed. Memories of Mikey still too fresh in their hearts. As the phone rang and rang without an answer, Richie bounced a little. Once the voicemail kicked in, he hung up. "Or we could just go to his place. He owes us all an apology."

Though not running, there was no denying the rush in their movements. Nat drove while Richie fiddled with the sleeve of his suit; he had half a mind to really rip into Carmy after all the shit he'd pulled the previous night.

Climbing the stairs, panic was taking over. By the time they got to the door, Richie banged with a closed fist.

"Open up, cousin!" He called loudly and banged on the door again.

The angry "what?" was both a relief to hear but also infuriating. If Carmy thought that kind of behaviour was okay, he had another think coming.

"At least he's not dead," Richie joked and Nat glared at him. "Sorry, too soon."

"Dick." Nat knocked a little more gently on the door. "Carmen, let us in please."

Noises from within the flat suggested Carmy was approaching the door at a slow shuffle, the odd bump and thump accompanied by a grunt. Through the closed door he growled "the fuck you want? Another round?"

"Carm, we were worried you hadn't come to work."

"Don't need to. I'm the boss."

"You're a little bitch," Riche snapped. His patience had worn thin. "Shouldn't have bothered coming to check on you. I was right, you're just like Donna."

The door wrenched open as Carmy near enough snarled. "Want to say that to my face?"

Except the desired effect was not reached. Sugar gasped as she stepped back, a hand over her mouth while Richie coughed out a laugh of disbelief. Standing in the doorway, Carmy was in ratty sleepwear which was fine. What wasn't fine was the blood smeared up his arm, across his forehead and in his hair where he'd obviously passed a hand through it. Even worse, his eyes were puffy and blinking rapidly where he squinted, except he was looking past them, not focused and gaze nowhere near either Nat or Richie.

"Carmy?" Nat reached out with shaking hands. It was only when she touched his arm that Carmy flinched, near enough violently and the hand that had been holding the door came into view. A badly wrapped dishcloth soaked in blood drew all attention. "What happened?"

"Nothing." A hand with blood crusted under his nails swiped at his face as Carmy tried to rub at his eyes before remembering he shouldn't. The long blinks and stare fixed vaguely on Richie's throat wasn't exactly encouraging.

Taking initiative, Richie raised a hand and waggled his fingers. There was no response. Flipping Carmy off had no effect either. Nor did doing the Macarena. Well, that one had Sugar looking at him like he was an insensitive asshole which...yeah, he was. As a last resort, Richie drew a hand back as if gearing up to slap Carmy. He stopped inches from his face and Carmy looked in the vague direction with a frown but didn't comment.

Nat cleared her throat. "Carmy, I'm coming in whether you like it or not. I need a drink of water."

Stepping aside, Carmy gestured vaguely towards the inside of his flat. "Help yourself. Just mind the remains of the coffee table."

Walking in on Nat's heels, Richie stuck his tongue out and scowled when Carmy didn't even look in his direction. But his attention was drawn to the coffee table, or rather, what was left of it. The glass top was shattered, most of the glass seemed to have been pushed to one side, there was a wet stain on the ground in the vague vicinity of the blood stain. Turning, Nat watched as Carmy stood near the closed door, not moving. She walked up to him, watching him blink rapidly as if just keeping his eyes open was agony.

"Carmy?" It made Carmy jump, he'd not realised Nat was so close. "What's going on? And don't say nothing."

The walls Carmy had been trying to hold up came crumbling down. His breathing turned rapid and shallow, hand running through his hair as he blinked away tears.

"I don't know. I don't fucking know!" Unmoored, he looked so lost until Nat wrapped him up in a tentative hug. All but folding into her, Carmy let out a small sob. "I can't fucking see. You shouldn't be here."

Gently, Nat rocked them, glancing over her shoulder at Richie for any kind of help. None was coming, neither of them were truly equipped to deal with such a thing. "I'm here because I want to be. Now, I'm going to lead you back to bed because I don't want you cutting your feet on the glass. Richie can help clear that up, can't you?"

As much as Richie wanted to protest, he nodded. Rather the broken glass and blood stains than a broken Carmy. Still, he kept an ear on the bedroom where Nat helped Carmy sit on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me what happened since last night."

Haltingly, Carmy began. Getting out of the fridge, his vision carrying the sparks from whatever tool he'd been set free with. Sleep coming for him eventually but he woke up to a headache in what he thought was the middle of the night. Except he couldn't see the streetlights, the TV was nothing more that a painful blur when he'd turned it on. The realisation that he couldn't see compounded by being so utterly alone. Even if he'd wanted to, his phone was impossible to use without being able to see it. Trying to find it, he'd tripped over the table, crashed through it and broke the glass. Knowing that nobody was coming, Carmy had tried to clean up as best he could, had no clue whether he'd succeeded or not.

"So what were you going to do?" Sugar asked softly. "If you thought nobody was coming, what did you think would happen?"

Carmy shrugged, twisting the bloodied dishcloth between uninjured fingers. "I don't know. It's not like The Bear needs me. You, Richie and Syd proved that last night. I just-" he trailed off with a hard sniff, "-thought you'd all forget about me and keep the place going."

The pained "Bear" from Nat was somewhat echoed by Richie as he barged into the room with a declaration of, "You're kind of impossible to forget, idiot. Now, did you say you stared at the pretty sparks and lights last night?"

Resigned to his not-to-be-forgotten fate, Carmy nodded and closed his eyes. They burned, felt like sand coated his eyelids, in short it was pain he couldn't really deal with. It was why he'd thrown his phone across the room, not when he realised he couldn't call someone but when he thought there was nobody that he could call. Yet Nat and Richie came anyway. Relief and guilt coursed through him but they seemed adamant in looking after him. Caving in, Carmy guiltily allowed the other two to take control of the situation. By the end of the evening he was on Richie's couch, eyes much less painful after being prescribed some drops and the reassurance that he'll be fine within a day or two.

Sure enough, the next day Carmy walked into The Bear, shoulders hunched as he braced for what was to come. He had a lot of apologies to issue.

[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

Year of Whump: Rejection

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Elze’ith tries to reach out.

Contains: Isolation, referenced drugging

~~~

“You would be Wallace, right?”

The chef looked up from the carrot he was chopping. The moment he saw Elze’ith’s face, he hastily looked back down. Elze’ith grimaced slightly; the other castle residents had given him a similar reaction when he had tried to reach out. Still, though, he couldn’t let one rebuff deter him.

“My name is Elze’ith. I just started working with Lord Denholm on magical research. I thought I would introduce myself. It is nice to meet you. Your food really is lovely.”

Wallace paid him no mind, sweeping the carrot into a bowl and reaching for an onion. Elze’ith bit his lip. Why was no one talking to him? He sighed.

“I know your sister.” Wallace went rigid. His hand tensed around the knife he was holding. Elze’ith kept going, words coming out almost in a rush now that he had gotten a reaction. “Not well, but… I was there for her wedding. She is doing well. I could talk to you about her for a bit, if you like…?”

“Please, leave.” Wallace’s voice was quiet, almost imperceptible, but Elze’ith heard it nonetheless. The faint spark of hope in Elze’ith’s chest went out in an instant. If there had been any chance at a connection with this man, he had just ruined it.

“Very well. I am sorry to have disturbed you.”

He made his exit. He refused to think of it as fleeing.

—

“Wallace.” Elze’ith’s voice was firm. It almost made him sound confident, even though he felt anything but. Wallace froze, hands full with a tray of freshly baked bread.

It smelled delightful. It almost smelled like home. The fragrance made something twist in Elze’ith’s chest.

“I know that you have been drugging my meals sometimes,” Elze’ith said. Wallace’s eyes went wide. He continued hastily, “I am not here out of anger. And I do not want to get you into trouble with Lord Denholm. I just wished to ask if there was any way you could let me know to expect a drugged meal. Maybe arrange the silverware a certain way, or give me some sort of hand signal…”

Wallace was looking at him incredulously. Elze’ith’s pulse rang in his ears. “I just want to know when it is coming. Please.”

At first, Wallace was silent. Then, he laughed. He laughed. Quietly at first, then louder, until it seemed to envelop all of Elze’ith’s senses. He set the tray down on the table with a harsh clatter and met Elze’ith’s eyes.

“You think that would change anything?” There was a bitter edge to his voice. “I’m not risking myself for you, especially not for something so meaningless. Now, please. I have work to do.”

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. But as Elze’ith fled the kitchen, he found himself furiously blinking back tears. He had no friends. No allies. No one who would listen to him or help him. There was only Lord Denholm and all of the discord that he had introduced to Elze’ith’s life.

A castle full of people, and he was practically alone.