#and like they're not Blood Relatives but like ????? i just somehow never realized that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farfromstrange · 2 years

Text

Foreigner's God | m.m

Previous chapter ° Series Masterlist

Chapter Forty-Three: She Knows

Summary: Life is good, life is normal. All pieces have fallen into place. A routine night of patrol leads Matt and Eliza into the arms of one of Hell's Kitchen's notorious gangs who seem to have stolen alien technology. Chaos ensues, revelations are made and things go a little... out of control.

Warnings: Angst, Smut (fingering, this is relatively tame), attempt at humor, Canon typical violence, Season 3 spoilers (heavy on that), Avengers 1 spoilers, Infinity War spoilers, use of mutant powers, blood, hurt/comfort, mentions of suicide (briefly), fluff, declarations of love

A/n: I have worked long and hard on this. I spent a good ten hours, if you put them all together, just writing this chapter. Another ten the day before to plan out the way I want to change some things about how I'm going to portray Season 2 in this story, and some of the plot points I have added with my Original Characters to make it possible to put them all together to make it make sense (and erase some of the plot holes). I have written-down and solid plans until chapter forty-seven, and from there on they're just ideas that haven't been written out yet. But I think I just built a storyline that is somehow canon yet not canon at all and it might just keep you at the edge of your seats throughout the journey. I hope so, at least.

The days in New York kept getting hotter. It was a different kind of heatwave. Even though Eliza evened out the firm’s bills, the AC broke right when they needed it most, and looking at their budget — the one she had meticulously calculated — she realized they couldn’t afford to call someone to fix it, so they were stuck with two ventilators that were barely working, and the iced drinks their clients served them with.

She still had a significant amount of money left. It was enough to buy a car, but in a city like New York, cars were overrated.

She put some money aside in case her and Matt’s living arrangement would somehow be at risk if he, once again, failed to pay his rent on time, or the electricity bill got more expensive. The monthly bill had already changed from plausible to other-worldly — having her live with him meant the lights were on when it got dark; they had never been on before, except for the rare occasions Foggy stayed over. Therefore, the electricity bill grew in size significantly compared to his usually tame living costs, thanks to the discount and his blindness.

Not only was the buzzing something Matt had to get used to but having someone with working eyes living with him meant she usually left a lot of stuff lying out, or she would move the jars on his spice rack a little to the left without noticing, and once he was the one cooking in the kitchen, he touched the shelf like a lost puppy until he found what he was looking for. And she continuously switched the places.

At first, he didn’t say anything, but it eventually got too much when he couldn’t find the salt. “Babe, that’s sugar,” he heard her say behind him.

“If you’d put the jars where they were, I wouldn’t have that problem—“ he broke off, grunting in search for the tag that read salt. He found it where the basil usually was. “There it is. Where did you put the basil?”

“Lower shelf, ‘cause I couldn’t reach it.” She sounded so innocent then, eating her yogurt and watching him through hooded eyes. Eyes of guilt. “I’m sorry if, I’d known–“

Matt sighed. “It’s not that, baby. I’m just so used to everything being in the same spot, I get confused when it isn’t there, and then I have to read all of the tags to find what I’m looking for,” he explained, and it slowly dawned on her.

“Did I just completely disregard your disability because I only kept thinking about your super senses?”

“You didn’t disregard it, you just– you’re being you,” he said, “and I love that you’re you but I usually take a little longer to adapt to change for, uh, obvious reasons.”

“Don’t defend me. I totally disregarded it,” she got up, “and I am so sorry I did. Tell me what you need me to change and I will. For you, I will. I’m going to learn how to adjust to you so you won’t have to adjust to me.”

He chuckled softly. She stepped up to him, her arms snaking around his neck and he kissed her. “That’s not how this is supposed to be,” he told her.

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s not. You live here too, so you get to make this place your home the same way I did. You don’t have to adjust everything because I’m blind.”

“I want to help you,” said Eliza.

“And you are,” Matt caressed her face again, “you’re helping by being here.”

“What else can I do though to make this easier for you?”

He frowned. Usually, people didn’t ask. He was so used to living alone in his apartment that he almost forgot he wasn’t anymore, and their relationship was a two-way street, as everything else in their lives.

His head twitched toward the spice rack. “Put everything where it used to be, that would be a start,” he said.

“Okay, I can do that.” She tried to break free to do as she was told, but he held her back.

He wasn’t done. With his hands on her hips, he made sure she looked into his eyes.

“Everything except for the things you use the most,” he said, “because I need to adjust to your needs to and if you can’t use the sugar because you can’t reach it, we’ll move it to the lower shelf.”

“With the same positioning?” she questioned.

“Please.”

After a couple of days, his spices stopped wandering and he sighed a breath of relief. She was willing to learn and she adapted, something only Foggy had done while they were in college, and even then their dorm lacked of some accessibility.

Eliza put in an effort to make life easier for him. She made sure everything was where he left it, and she stopped leafing her stuff lying out because the first time he almost tripped was enough for her to change her mind about being a little messy.

When it came to the electricity bill though, she wasn’t sure what to do. Matt assured her it was fine, but she considered learning how to walk in the dark when she saw the number at the bottom. He told her he would take care of it but the man could barely afford his own coffee mix, and because of her he stopped buying his disgusting German beer (she told him he didn’t have to, but when did Matt Murdock ever listen to her?), so he lost more of his freedom than he gained when she moved in. She felt guilty, to say the least.

Thankfully, work days weren’t so boring anymore. Eliza gave up on trying to convince Matt to take paying clients. The number of people willing to pay for their services was, well… zero. Nonexistent. At least they got baked goods as a generous ‘thank you’, but cake didn’t pay the bills. It left them satisfied and with lunch for days, but food couldn’t cover the cost of living or the cost of running a law firm in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Thank you, Mrs. Ingram, we’ll take a look at those complaints and get back to you.” As an introvert, talking to strangers wasn’t an easy task, but she had a way with people that often amazed Matt.

The middle-aged woman bowed slightly, thanking her again in a tongue he didn’t recognize. The door closed, he heard the sound loud and clear, and the office finally went quiet. With the air so thick, he could barely breathe, the heat causing sweat to break out on his forehead and soak through his dress shirt. He had already pushed up the sleeves past his forearms and it bunched around his bicep, the one protruding vein now more visible than ever. He wanted to tear his clothes off but not even that would have sufficed to get rid of the heat under his skin.

Foggy stood at the door to his office, holding a water bottle to his sweaty face. “She speaks Arabic,” he said. “Matt, your girlfriend speaks Arabic. Why does she speak Arabic?”

“Because she’s smarter than you,” Eliza retorted.

Matt chuckled. “Let me state for the record that she said it, not me.”

“No seriously,” he pushed himself off the doorframe, “how many languages have you spoken today?”

“Three,” Karen cut in. She peeked down at the files scattered on her desk. “Uh, we had an elderly Chinese lady, Mrs. Rodriguez who only speaks Portuguese, and then Mrs. Ingram who speaks Arabic.”

“Yes, that. What’s wrong with you?”

Meanwhile, she had wandered off into the kitchen, taking one of the few mugs they kept in the cupboard and pouring the now cold coffee into it. “I told you, it’s an intelligence thing, you wouldn’t understand.”

It was slowly starting to dawn outside, the sun setting behind the many high rises around them. She hoped it would cool down soon. Having ditched her shirt, she was left in a burgundy top with quite a suggestive cleavage that Matt noticed instantly when the first pair of eyes of a client flicked to her breasts and he only grew more possessive with every passing male client.

“I’ll have you know,” said Foggy, “That I’m actually the smartest out of my family! I mean, I went to law school. Call me the golden child.” A proud, dorky smile grew on his face that caused his dimples to stand out.

She tried hard to hide her own smile behind a mocking smirk. “That’s kind of like being the tallest dwarf,” Eliza said.

He lifted his finger, eyebrows crinkling in a state of offense, but he quickly shook his head and put his finger back then. “Actually, that- that’s true.”

Reaching into the Tupperware that stood on the counter, she took one of the Brownies. She sniffed; it smelled like sugar and cocoa. She couldn’t remember who brought them, though she suspected it to have been one of the elderly women that came to them with their small legal troubles. It was the cinnamon that gave it away. A feeling of Christmas in the middle of summer, and it cooled down her skin when she thought about the snow that would come in December if they were lucky, and ice skating at the rink around Rockefeller Tree. Christmas in New York was magical and she looked forward to the holiday every year.

Although this year, her Christmas would look different from what it used to before; Clint wasn’t there to invite her to his family home anymore, and she wouldn’t be able to spend time with his children under the tree. Her life changed drastically, but she wasn’t alone. She had friends and she had Matt — it would be their first Christmas together. She was excited about that.

At the beginning of the year, she figured she would be lonely on Christmas, but even that had changed and now she couldn’t wait for the magical time of the year that gave her an excuse to buy him several gifts that he couldn’t turn down. But no gift could be better than the one he gave her by taking her back.

It was still summer though and the temperature melted her skin into the ground.

On a Sunday, Matt believed it was, he woke up to the scent of cinnamon in the air. He reached beside him, but the mattress next to him was cold. He frowned, listening more intently to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Through the fog of his sleepy senses, he could make out her heartbeat. He relaxed. A sigh slipped past his lips as he heaved himself out of bed.

“You’re baking,” he stated, standing in the doorframe to the living room.

Eliza looked up from where she stood in the kitchen. “Good morning to you too,” she chirped.

He pouted. “Why are you baking? Are you okay?”

“What? Oh. Oh, no,” it dawned on her, “this is not stress-baking. This is- well, I guess you can call it cheerful Sunday baking,” she said, “but I’m actually just doing it because Sister Maggie asked if I could help out with the summer fest the orphanage is doing today.”

“Thank God,” he murmured.

Matt appeared behind her, his hands snaking around her waist. He buried his face in her shoulder. She smelled of the cinnamon she used and flour — some of it got stuck in her eyebrows from where she had rubbed her sweaty forehead before, and some flour even collected at the tip of her nose. He chuckled when he realized. “You’ve got a little something there,” he brushed his finger over her nose.

She scrunched. “Didn’t notice.”

“I know. There’s some flour in your brows, too. Here,” he repeated the same motion over the soft hairs above her eyes, “All done.”

“Thanks.”

He once again wrapped his arms around her waist, continuing to breathe all of her in. She leaned back into him, one hand coming to rest in his hair while the other stirred the dough before her. Wandering lips trailed over her pulse point, leaving a wet trail behind. Eliza sighed, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to be baking a whole batch of brownies for hungry and traumatized children. His hands squeezing her hips and his lips exploring what was bare of her shoulders distracted her from the task at hand completely, and she found herself slowly caving into his touch.

“You know, you have to stop back-hugging me when I’m baking,” she said. “You’re distracting me. I might burn these brownies.”

Matt chuckled against her neck. “How,” his lips brushed her ear as he asked, “They’re not even in the oven yet.”

“Precisely. That’s where they should be.”

“Then why don’t you put them in?”

“Because you’re distracting me from finishing them.”

“Huh, that sucks ‘cause I don’t intend on stopping–” he slipped his hand past the waistband of her panties, “anytime soon.”

“Ohhh-kay.” She grabbed the edge of the counter tightly, her knuckles turning bright white. Her hips bucked into his hand while at the same time pushing against his pelvis from behind.

His chuckle fanned across her cheek now before he turned her chin with his index finger and captured her lips in a bruising kiss.

“That is absolutely not–“ he started drawing slow circles over her clit with as many fingers as he could, “distracting— Oh God!” He kicked her feet apart, his middle finger already halfway buried in her cunt.

“Not distracting, huh?” he hummed into her ear. “Is that why you’re so fucking wet right now?”

Oh, how she hated him. She clenched around his finger at the gentle mockery, meeting the now rough palm of his hand as it bumped against the nerves that craved him the most.

“That’s it… good girl.”

The orgasm washed over her with surprising intensity. It hadn’t even been a full five minutes until her walls fluttered and she was coming undone around his finger, and he soaked up every last whimper she let out, her head now resting back against his shoulder while he gently rubbed her clit to draw the orgasm out but not to overstimulate her.

He gently pulled out. “Good morning,” Matt smirked proudly to himself.

“Oh, good morning indeed.”

His lips chased her movements as she turned around in his arms, leaning up to press her lips to his. It was a silent ‘good morning’, the first display of love that wasn’t connected to anything sexual. In the background, the soft tune of a song filled the room with a light atmosphere. She felt like a feather floating through the air, the air that was often filled with pain and the thick scent of tears shed. Sometimes, it smelled like his blood, other times it smelled like hers, and on extremely bad days, they were both bleeding. Physically and mentally they were often bleeding in each other’s arms, their souls scarred from all the suffering, and their hearts often tired of beating, but now it beat for each other. The only reason they were alive lay in each other’s arms, and they promised to continue breathing for each other, even when one of them got tired and the other had to catch them. Their arms were wide open at the bottom of the cliff, always ready to carry what the other was too weak to hold up on their shoulders.

The pair stepped into Saint Agnes orphanage sometime around noon when the brownies were finished baking and the sun was less strong in the way it burned down on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt sniffed the air; it was hot, humid even, and thick with the sweat and different perfumes of the people passing by them as they walked toward the place he grew up in. Through the fog of the different sensations blurring together, he could make out a slightly tangy scent that lay thick and even a little sour in the air, but it was mostly salt and a cold breeze that brushed past his nose. It was going to rain soon, he was sure of that. The air shifted and it got a bit colder, offering some relief on their heated skin, but the temperature still felt inhuman.

Maggie greeted them at the door, “Thank you so much for coming,” she engulfed Eliza in a tight hug, “And thank you for offering to bake.”

“I’m glad to help,” said Eliza, handing the Tupperware that held the brownies over to the nun. She looked different from the last time they met; she wore a black dress that was the usual attire for the sisters at the church and the black-and-white headscarf that covered her brown hair.

“Oh,” she grabbed Matt’s bicep to push him further into Maggie’s line of sight, “This is Matthew, by the way. The, uh, boyfriend I was telling you about.”

Her brain seemed to short-circuit. She blinked, looking the man up and down, then back at her. Her mouth opened, but no sounds would come out. She tried again, fidgeting with her fingers as she tried to find words that would make sense, words that wouldn’t give her away.

Eliza was curious. Something wasn’t right and her suspicions overshadowed the excitement she had felt before. She needed to know why the nun was acting like that, and she needed to know now.

Matt smiled awkwardly and Maggie returned his expression. The smile is familiar. Why is it familiar? She wondered to herself. She was probably seeing ghosts and her hands were tingling for no reason. The rational center of her brain was screaming unnecessarily, her suspicions stemmed from a place of curiosity and there was no reason to worry. There was no reason to be on edge or determined to reveal a gigantic lie that probably wasn’t real anyway, she was just paranoid. After everything that happened, everything seemed to have a deeper meaning, a meaning that often turned out to be false. Maggie was a good person and so was Matt; he grew up in the orphanage, of course, he took some of what he learned and observed with him, and it manifested over the years. He was still a broken child at heart.

Still fidgeting with her fingers, Maggie chuckled. “I remember you,” she said. “You, uh, changed a lot since you were last here.”

“Uh, yeah,” Matt exhaled, “I was a kid.”

She straightened her shoulders. “Well, I’m glad that you’re here.”

“Me too, sister, although it feels weird being back here,” he said.

Maggie waved for them to follow her. He held onto Eliza’s arm on their way down the long corridor toward what he remembered to be the door to the garden behind the orphanage and the church. It was far away from the cemetery, but he had escaped once while all children were playing outside and visited his dad’s grave. He never told the nuns how he found his way there, he simply stated that he wanted to get out and then got lost. His abilities would have been hard to explain, only Stick understood what he was going through, but even he left him. They all eventually did. Being at his father’s grave had filled him with dread and it still did whenever he set foot into the church, knowing Jack was dead and he was alone. He didn’t even know his mother.

“You grew up here, it’s always going to be weird to visit your childhood home. Not to speak of the perhaps bad memories you connect with this place. Even a religious boy like you gets to have his reservations about God,” Maggie led them through the backdoor, “But destiny works in funny ways, doesn’t it?” she said. “That your girlfriend and I met and now you’re here.”

“Are you sure you can call it destiny?” Matt questioned.

“What else would you call it?”

“I don’t know, coincidence, maybe? I’ve been coming to this church for years, and have spoken to Father Lantom ever since I can remember, he’s taken my confession many times and I’ve seen Sunday Mass more times than I can count. That my girlfriend ran into you one night while she was desperate wouldn’t count as destiny, just a very surprising coincidence.”

She chuckled weakly, her eyes stuck on her face, and something resembling adoration flashed across her eyes. Her brows furrowed slightly, it was a look of worry now, one of guilt and regret, and she turned away again.

“Coincidence,” she repeated, “Yes, that might just be it.”

“I’m a man of God, I believe in what God wants. Anything else seems far-fetched, don’t you think, sister? God gives us all a purpose, so you could call it destiny, but as God’s disciples there really is nothing else but the role he cast us in.”

“Doesn’t that mean there are no coincidences, either? And call me Maggie, please. I insist.”

He tilted his head. Her statement worked through his brain and he contemplated. “You have a point,” he said.

“I’m glad you came.” Her voice cracked at the end. Matt played it off; voices crack sometimes. Eliza, however, wasn’t convinced that it was a random crack in her voice when the look she had on her face spoke more than opening a Bible and reading every last verse ever could.

Maggie was an expressive person. Her emotions displayed in her eyes, and whenever she was upset, her lips tilted down in a pout. Her brown eyes had green tints in them, but they were a darker brown, perhaps chestnut, matching her hair perfectly. Naturally curly hair.

Oh.

Fuck.

Eliza didn’t want to connect the trains of thought that clashed, drawing and setting up an invisible string between them.

“Brownies,” she blurted, her heart racing in her chest, and there was no doubt in her mind Matt could tell that she was shocked at something that neither he nor she could see because it happened in her brain and slapped her across the face. “Where should I put the brownies?” she asked.

“You don’t have to put them anywhere,” Maggie insisted, “I’ll take care of it.”

“I should take care of it though.”

“If that’s what you want–“ she handed the Tupperware back to her. “Put it on the table over there,” she told her. “With the rest of the food.”

Eliza peeked over at the mentioned table that stood aside from the commotion of children and nuns that played in the garden. Willing investors were standing around, ready to donate money to keep the orphanage up and working, and others were simply there for the free food. Mostly those who couldn’t afford it by themselves, but that was the point of the summer fest. It was meant to bring people together.

She nodded, “I’ll be right back.”

The table offered her some space to breathe away from now deep conversations between Matt and… Maggie. It all made sense now and she hated the knowledge she put on herself. There was no solid proof, but her gut hardly ever betrayed her.

“Eliza,” Father Lantom appeared behind her. He smiled when he saw her. “So nice of you to join us,” he said.

Her fists clenched. “Did you know?”

“Sorry?”

“Did you know?” she asked. Her eyes switched to the pair at the other end of the backyard. “Did you know that she’s his mother?”

She had been betrayed before, told that her parents were dead, and withheld information on the whereabouts of her biological father, so she knew how bad it could hurt to find out the truth.

The priest stuttered. His eyes were wide and he looked over to where Matt was standing with Maggie, still talking. It seemed he didn’t hear any of what Eliza said because he simply wasn’t paying attention and his senses didn’t quite work that way. If he didn’t consciously fan them out and focused on something else, he would tune the rest of the world out, and then a statement such as the one Eliza made would go over his head.

He leaned into her. “How?” he asked.

“Answer my question,” she shot back through gritted teeth.

She already knew that Father Lantom did know and that he didn’t say anything to Matt, not even once in the time he went to church, prayed, and asked for guidance. He had been lost to the point he tried to kill himself when he was merely a child and everyone lied to him. Maggie was there to raise him after his father died. She worked at the orphanage, took care of him, and she knew who the lost blind boy she was supposed to take care of was. She knew and she never said anything.

“Yes,” Father Lantom lowered his head, “I knew.”

“Great. That’s just… fucking great!”

But then Eliza realized something else. If Matt found out the truth now, it would shatter him. It would shatter him to know the lengths his own mother was willing to go to so he wouldn’t find out who she was, and the man he confided in lied to him too. It would shatter him. It would absolutely destroy him the same way it destroyed her when she revealed the truth.

“Listen, I can explain,” he said.

What explanation could there be? It was the same thing she had to go through all those weeks ago. She searched for answers for years and found them in the lies her friends told her, the people she thought she could trust, the people who loved her the most, and who she trusted with her life. It was the same fucking situation.

She shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve this,” her voice sounded low, “He doesn’t deserve any of this.”

The priest sighed in exasperation, pulling her further aside. “There’s a reason we kept the truth from him.”

“What reason could there possibly be to lie to him about his own mother? She’s right there.” Her glowing eyes resembled those of a snake, a venomous being born from fury. “She’s right there and he doesn’t know.”

Eliza remembered her telling her that she was a mother but didn’t have any children. She had done things she wasn’t proud of, committed sins she had to repent for, and found her way back from the dark void despair drove her into. Maggie used to lead support group meetings for lost children, for those who had nothing left and wanted to be better for whatever reason. She was a good person but she lied. She lied to Eliza and she lied to her own son, the man that she was now talking to as if they were long-lost friends, but she never once told him. They spent years together and she never found the guts to lay the truth out for him.

She didn’t want to hate her, she was a good person after all, but it was hard not to get angry at her. And Father Lantom played a huge role in it as well. She trusted him with her secrets. She misjudged him. She thought he was a righteous man, but he was nothing but a liar.

“He’s not supposed to find out, and you weren’t either, Eliza. This is a secret we’ve kept for decades—“

“That’s even worse!” she snapped.

He pressed a finger to his lips, “Not so loud.”

“I’m gonna be as loud as I fucking want because I’m gonna tell him.”

“No,” the Father stopped her by grabbing her arm and he said, “Please, don’t.” Was he begging or telling her not to?

“You can’t keep this from him,” she said, “it’s not fair.”

“I know, but there’s a reason Maggie hasn’t found him sooner, a reason we didn’t tell him. It was never my choice to make, it was hers, and I swore to protect her as well as make sure he was okay. If he finds out now…” he trailed off, looking at the chatting pair. “He’s gonna be devastated, you know that. You’re the closest person to him, you’re the only one who understands him. Tell me, would he be able to survive to hear the truth?”

She hated the answer. She hated that the truth was that no, he wouldn’t survive. She hated that she now knew something so crucial and she hated that Father Lantom was right. He would be devastated and he would suffer. He would question everything he ever believed to be true and he would drown. She could try to catch him, but he would fall faster than she could run to his rescue. All of this for what?

“The people in my life lied to me about my father too,” she said.

“I’m sure they had the same intention in mind.”

“They told me it was to protect me but I lost myself too. It broke me. I deserved to know and they took that right away from me until I found out the truth some other way. I would have understood if they told me themselves, but they were so adamant about lying I had to find out myself and that completely destroyed me. He deserves for the people who care about him to not lie to him,” she swallowed, “and if the truth breaks him, so be it. He deserves to know and he’d hate me for keeping this from him. I can’t live with this burden. I wish I never connected the dots, but I did, and this information is more than I can carry right now, so I have to tell him.”

“Eliza please,” Father Lantom begged. His hand was still on her arm. She broke free, glaring holes into his head. She hoped he could feel the hell she wished upon him.

She stood her ground, “No.”

“If you tell him now, his world is going to end.”

“It’s not. He caught me and I’ll catch him. I know I will. I can.”

“You can’t know that and I think you know that you can’t.”

She hated him and his words and God for putting her in such a position. She hated her curiosity and how easily she could make connections even when she wasn’t trying. But most of all, Eliza hated herself for the decision she made. She was no better than the people who lied to her.

“I have to tell him,” she whispered.

“No, you don’t.”

“I have to, but I won’t,” her voice dropped an octave and her eyes turned a terrifying color of maroon, “because if he does find out, he’s going to be devastated and he’s been through enough pain already. I’m doing this because I love him, not because of you. If you know what’s good for you, you stay away from me.”

“Eliza, wait-”

“Matt,” she walked up to him, the smile on her lips fake, but she managed to convince him. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure, yeah,” he said. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“Okay then. It was nice meeting you again.”

The nun nodded with a curt smile. “It was nice seeing you, Matthew,” said Maggie. “I hope we’ll catch up more soon.”

I hope the fuck not, Eliza cursed her inner monologue. But it was right. The more time they spent together, the guiltier she would feel, but by God, if she told him now he would break into a million pieces and their life was just starting to get better again. She didn’t want to steal the sparkle from his eyes. Matt didn’t deserve that. He also didn’t deserve to be lied to, but she loved him too much to break his heart. If he ever found out, he would hate her, but it was a small price to pay to keep his heart safe. He had lost enough for a lifetime.

The thought kept her caught in the moral conflict that wrapped its hand around her soul and squeezed, its claws dragging her down into an abyss of endless guilt and shame. If she wasn’t careful, it would consume her whole soon and there would be no going back. She loved him so much, but was the sacrifice worth it? Was risking their relationship worth it just to protect his soul from breaking? It was wrong. She knew how much it hurt when the Avengers did the same, but carrying this knowledge with her now, she realized why they kept the secret of her true parentage from her. She understood the purpose of protecting the people you love by omitting now better than she ever did, but she still cursed herself to hell and back for not opening her mouth. She should have, but time had passed by since they were at the fest and she was already too deep into the lie to pull out now. She had to walk to the edge of the grave she dug and hope she wouldn’t fall in.

The cool night air blew through her hair as she walked next to Matt over the dark rooftop. He had picked up on a commotion in the distance, gang activity, he had told her. They were partly responsible for the rising drug numbers in Hell’s Kitchen and Daredevil wasn’t pleased with what his city was turning into. He had to salvage what was left. Eliza tagged along, of course. She always did. Ever since he got her the suit, she felt more comfortable in her skin and her fighting abilities. She didn’t care much about her powers when she was around him because he told her every time, focus on your fighting skills not what’s going on in your mind. Channel your anger into something else. And she did. She channeled her feelings into her fists as she beat the criminals into a puddle.

That night though, she was so stuck in her mind, her entire body was vibrating with the energy that she pushed down so many times before. She refused to study them further, but the need to let them out was growing with each passing day, and the more she thought about it, the more scared she got about what she would do once the stone decided it had enough of being pushed down. With the empathy gone, she thought she could catch a break, but her fingers always tingled and her soul craved the power. Her body craved to rise to its full potential, whatever that was.

“How about Chinese?” Matt asked.

Eliza shook her head. “No, we had that yesterday. I can still taste that fucking awful sushi on my tongue,” she said. “I feel like it was purposely made to not taste good because how the fuck can you screw up Sushi?”

“I think they might have put too much salt in the rice.”

“And used moldy cucumber.”

“If they did, you would be having serious stomach problems right now.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I am.”

“You’re not,” he said.

“Well okay, we’re not doing Chinese. How about Indian instead?” she asked.

Matt contemplated before scrunching his nose in a disapproving frown. “We had that the day before that, and honestly if I have to taste Kurkuma one more time, I’m gonna puke. I love Indian food, but we’ve been eating too much of that lately.”

“Okay, I get that. We’ve been spending a lot of money on Indian food. How about pizza? Italian, maybe even pasta and some breadsticks. There’s a nice place around the corner from your apartment. And they got Uber Eats.”

“Yeah, let’s do pizza. But only if it has—“

“Cheese crust.”

“Exactly.”

“And I’m craving garlic bread,” she said.

He hummed. “Oh, yeah, garlic bread.”

“And if we both eat it, we can still kiss.”

“That is a good argument, Miss Bennet,” Matt said, “I think you might have won this discussion.”

“Pizza it is then,” she decided.

Was it wrong to talk about dinner choices while walking into the arms of one of Hell’s Kitchen's many gangs? Possibly, but they had long stopped caring about what happened before or after. The fight became their life’s purpose. They couldn’t see themselves doing anything else. Eliza was a hero, she craved to be one, and Matt craved to help his city out in any way he could. He still believed it was his god-given purpose to be Daredevil, and he stuck to his principles.

Sister Maggie is Matt Murdock’s mother. She bit her cheek. If the thought kept pushing against her head, she would burst. She had to and she said she wouldn’t, but fuck! Father Lantom wasn’t the boss of her and she knew better than let him tell her what to do. She knew better than to break Matt’s heart by lying to him and risking what they had because she didn’t want him to hate her, ever. She didn’t want to break his trust. She promised not to lie to him, and she was physically incapable of doing so, anyway.

“Matt,” she caught his wrist and he stopped, giving her a puzzled look that she could read even behind the Devil’s mask, “I have to tell you something,” she said.

Now or never. Fuck Father Lantom and Maggie for their lies. She had to be better than them. She was better than them. She wouldn’t make the same mistake Tony made because, in the end, he was more sorry than she had been safer.

“What’s up?” he asked, his lip tilted down in a confused and worrying frown. “Are you okay?”

It was sweet how he suspected it was something about her rather than something that would tear his entire worldview down.

She opened her mouth, putting aside all reservations. Eliza was going to tell him the truth about his mother right then and there and then wait for the music to come. He was going to implode but fuck, she couldn’t keep the secret any longer, it was eating away at her insides and it was driving her guilt to an all-time high that she seemed to be tumbling off any second now. It suffocated her, knowing the truth about him and keeping him in the dark. She wasn’t going to do that to him, not again. She made so many promises, she had to keep them. She promised she would keep them.

“I-”

The blast that sounded in the distance cut her off.

They flinched at the same time, ducking behind the ledge of the roof. “You hear that?” he asked.

She nodded, “Loud and clear.”

Something strange lay in the atmosphere. It was a familiar feeling, a tingle that shot up her spine and caused the hairs on her arms to stand up.

Looking down at the layer they were supposed to stake out, she caught the blue glow through the dirty windows. The smoke from the blast clouded the inside. She tilted her head. It couldn’t be—

“You have to stay here,” she said. Her breath hitched. “You can’t go down there.”

Matt chuckled, the confusion written on his face as he asked her, “Why?”

“I’m not kidding,” and her serious expression told him as much, “You’re not going down there.”

“Angel, calm down. What is going on? Why do you-”

“It’s Chitauri tech,” she stated. The blue glow mixed with the almost radioactive-looking smoke told her everything she needed to know. Her hair bent in the direction of the alien force and her fingers tingled; this could only mean one thing - the Battle of New York had left a significant number of weapons and alien remains behind, and many people had stolen parts and taken them with them, and the weapons that came out of playing with such technology would always be life-threatening to any human being.

“Chitauri as in–“

“The Battle of New York, yes.”

“Are you sure? How do they- how would they even get their hands on the technology? I thought Stark cleaned up all of it when his foundation paid for the reconstruction of downtown. That was four years ago, Eliza. Are you sure that blast wasn’t just a manipulated machine gun?”

“The glow, Matthew. You can’t see it, but you might feel the energy in the air. I do, I can feel it creeping up my spine and toying with my brain. It’s alien, definitely. I felt the same when I stood in the ruins of this city and had aliens jumping on the buildings around me, shooting their funny little guns at us.”

It was true, he felt the static change in the air, but he thought nothing about it. Explosions often manipulated the way air would graze his skin. She seemed convinced though and her heartbeat showed no signs of doubt. This was her arena. This was what she was best at. He had nothing on her ability to sniff out what he couldn’t see. She felt deeper than he did, she was more susceptible to the atmosphere and reality spoke to her in ways he couldn’t comprehend. When she told him it was alien technology they were dealing with, he had to believe her.

“That day, death and destruction rained from the sky,” he said. “It wasn’t just a random incident. The world almost ended, New York City was destroyed, people died… why would humans want to acquire the tech that almost got them killed?”

“Why do humans hurt each other in dark alleyways in the middle of the night?” Eliza challenged. “Why do humans resort to violence when they can’t get their way? We’re animals, Matt,” she said, “we’re predators, we want to be better than any other species, so that’s why some humans don’t even fear God when it comes to ruining other people’s lives.”

“Well, then we need to stop them.” He made a move to get out of the crouching position, ready to reach for his Billy Clubs.

She put her hand atop his. “Don’t,” she said.

“They could seriously hurt a lot of people. If we don’t do anything—“

“I need to stop them, not you.”

“Did you miss the part where we decided we would fight together because we always have each other’s backs?”

“This is alien tech. You’re only human. You’re not indestructible. You don’t even have a shield. If they hit you, you’re dead.”

He only scoffed. “I’d like to see them try.”

Usually, she found his confidence more than alluring, but at that moment she wanted to hit him. He wasn’t invincible, but he seemed to forget that from time to time. If she was right with her suspicions, he would be dead the second they stepped through the door. She could never forgive herself if that happened, which was the precise reason why she tried her hardest to stop him, even if she had to tie him to the roof. She would do it.

“No,” Eliza insisted, “stop.”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” her voice cracked.

He hung his head low, exhaling a heavy breath through pursed lips, then turned his head up enough for her to meet his red eyes. His hand reached for her cheek, cupping the rosy skin and caressing her cheekbone with his gloved thumb. He sighed again, this time louder. Her eyes fluttered closed.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. “Hey, look at me—“ She opened her eyes. Tears glistened in them, tears that came from a dark place of fear deep within her heart. It tore her apart to think about what could possibly happen to him. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said. “I promised I’m in it for the long run and I intend to keep that promise. We go in there together and we both come out alive. I love you, okay? Alone because of that, I would show death the finger.”

She dropped her forehead against his. “Promise?” she breathed the word into his mouth.

He pressed his lips to hers ever so gently, barely brushing them, breathing her in as if she was the last thing keeping him alive. “Promise,” he said.

“I love you too.”

“I know.” He kissed her forehead. “Trust me, I know.”

“Promise you’ll stay behind me until I tell you otherwise?”

He crossed his heart. “Promise.”

She prayed to God he would keep his promise.

The inside of the garage was quiet. Occasionally, metal would scrape against metal and the whirring of a saw cut through the sound barrier. Sparks flew, lighting up the room, but as soon as it was over, the room fell silent again. Every person seemed to have their work cut out for them.

They entered through the back, inching their way behind one of the shelves that protected them from the careful eyes of the men in leather jackets and their guns. It was a cliche, the way they looked, but gang members had their ways of fitting into cliches even when they weren’t trying.

She eyed the structure of the building, the workbench, and the several weapons that were scattered all over the room. She couldn’t make out the source of the blast. The glow had disappeared. The saw whirred again, longer this time and metal thunked to the floor. Eliza craned her neck to get a closer look; she saw the blue core before she saw the man behind it tightening the screws on the gun.

Nodding toward the front, Eliza patted Matt’s shoulder. He got the message. Using the furniture that adorned the garage as cover, he made his way forward. She stayed behind, making sure he landed safely where she wanted him, and when he stopped behind another shelf soon after, she exhaled. She calmed her heart and focused.

“Now,” she breathed only loud enough for him to hear — and he did. She could have moved her lips and he still would have heard.

He tossed one of his Billy Clubs into the room. It managed to hit the first man over the head. He tried his best to be subtle about it, but the metal hit the ground loudly and with how quiet it was, the sound resembled a gunshot in a silent neighborhood.

She was about to warn him that they would start shooting, but the words died on her tongue when the first bullets started to fly in the direction they suspected the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen to be. Her target was the man at the workbench, his fingers wrapping around the gun he was working on. He never got around to using it.

The blade graced his jaw. “Drop it,” she hissed into his ear.

He lifted his arms and put the gun down, swallowing against the dagger that hovered dangerously close over his neck. Satisfied, she lowered the blade and instead, pushed him forward until his head collided with the wood of the table. His brow burst open at the impact, painting the brown surface red with his blood.

She flipped the knife. That had been fairly easy. The tip of the blade collided with the blue Chitauri core of the weapon, breaking the glass and shutting off the only power source there was — the core itself. The gun could no longer shoot and with the first weapon out of service, she could move on to the next.

The men that came at her underestimated what she was capable of. She dodged the first one’s punch, ramming her knee between his legs, and she buried her entire fist in his face. His nose cracked under her knuckles.

Her knife flew across the room and hit her target’s shoulder while she flipped another man over her shoulder. She knocked his head into the floor, spilling blood in the process. The man holding her dagger headed for her, but she gracefully ducked under his arm, slinging her arm around his neck and single-handedly flipping him onto his back on the ground. The last thing he saw was her towering over him before her fist knocked him into oblivion. Wiping his blood on her suit, she hummed. This was going better than she expected.

Eliza searched for Matt in the mess. Her eyes caught on him as he fought one of the larger guys. He looked graceful, pushing him back and further until he stumbled over his own feet and hit the ground. At the sound of a gun cocking, she turned her head to see one of the members he must have knocked out before rising to his feet and pointing his gun at the back of his head.

She sprinted toward him. He saw her coming from the corner of her eye, now pointing the gun at her. It was a normal glock. With so many men, it was hard to tell who carried what weapon. She still hadn’t seen the source of the gigantic blast — the gun she disarmed couldn’t have caused it, as it was way too small — but she was sure she would find it soon enough. For now, though, her brain stopped functioning and she simply stormed toward the man with the gun, and she stared right down the barrel as she had back when Ivan rose from the ashes of the White Room and buried three bullets inside her chest cavity.

She fell to her knees, much to the man’s surprise, and she slid her knife over his kneecap. The gun dropped to the ground. He toppled over, holding the pulsating wound with both of his hands. Jumping to her feet, she pushed her boot into his back, forcing him to his knees. Matt was safe, for now.

Her eyes switched to him only for a second, but a second was enough for the man to pull the hidden knife from his boot, turn around and jab the blade into her side. Eliza cried out, the intrusion sending sparks of fire through her abdomen, a feeling too familiar. He definitely cut through many nerves and it went deep, too deep. Her flesh squished and she caught onto her attacker’s wrist, staring into his eyes. He grinned. She tore the knife out of her side together with his hand, punching him straight across the face, and as pissed as she was at him for stabbing her, she lifted her knee to knock his teeth out. He dropped to the floor. She kicked him again just to make sure he would stay down, then finally pressed a hand to her bleeding side.

If the wound didn’t kill her, Matt sure as hell would. He would call her reckless and berate her. He would tell her that she was the one worried about him for no reason and that she should have taken better care of herself because she got hurt, but he didn’t. He would say a lot of things, but for that, they had to make it out alive, which suddenly seemed highly unlikely with her side throbbing as if she was losing pints of blood (she wasn’t).

The Chitauri weapon was gigantic. It looked like a grenade thrower only two times bigger and the glow was already visible through the barrel she found herself staring into when she looked up.

“Woah,” she called out when the stranger pointed the weapon at Matt. She lifted her hand, diverting the attention toward herself.

She suspected them to pull out the big guns, but this was exactly what she tried to prevent — having Matt in the crosshairs.

“Listen, I know you’re probably not planning an uprising or some other gang-related shit, but the weapon you’re holding in your hand right now is definitely not made for men like you,” she said.

He laughed. “Men like me?” he said. “Who gave you the right to judge that? You and your little friend here came into our home—” he looked around himself, his men moaning and groaning on the ground, blood spilled and bones were broken, “and you think I’m just gonna let you get away with it?”

“I saw the blast.”

“The gun over there malfunctioned. The one you destroyed. Thanks for that.” His smile was bitter.

Matt, the idiot that he was, stepped forward and she was about to yell at him for being so reckless, but he couldn’t be stopped.

“We came here to get answers on the heroin that’s being sold on the streets right now. The laced heroin, the one currently killing dozens of kids and addicts alike,” he said. “We didn’t come here to be shot at or start a war. We just want answers and then we’ll go. You just have to put the gun down first.”

The weapon swung back over at him.

“Daredevil,” the man stated, “I figured you’d come one day.”

“I’m not here to shed any unnecessary blood, but if you keep being a dick, maybe I will.”

“You already shed unnecessary blood. In fact, a lot of unnecessary blood has been shed lately. Instead of blaming every New York gang for selling drugs, maybe you should look into the murders that have been happening around you. ‘Cause, my people are dying and no one seems to care about that, not even the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Tell me,” he said, “Are you really that heartless?”

The pair shared a look. “What are you talking about?” asked Eliza.

“Someone shot up the Dogs of Hell a couple of days ago. Each had about twenty rows in ‘em. Then, last night, someone shot up the Skulls’ layer up the street. Figured we are next, so we loaded up.” He pointed down at the gun. “We had the tech stashed away for emergencies, and since someone is slaughtering gangs here in Hell’s Kitchen — hell, they’re slaughtering gangs all over goddamn New York City, I thought it was necessary to get the big guns out. For our protection. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“We didn’t,” Matt said. He sounded just as confused as she was, and perhaps he felt a little guilty for not realizing what was going on. He was so focused on a problem New York has been having for decades he lost focus on what else was happening around him.

“Someone’s shooting up gangs? Are you guys trying to start a war or something?” Her voice drew the attention back to her. “Because that’s what it sounds like to me. Is it because of drugs? I used to be an addict, I know how strong heroin is, but the stuff you’re cooking up is killing innocent children in a way I have never seen before.”

He scowled, “We didn’t shoot up anyone. We’re not that stupid. And especially not because of some stupid drug trade. Not every fucking gang is involved in that. We’re family, if that even matters to you brainless fuckheads.”

“Then who else would be shooting up gangs here in New York if not a rival gang looking for more power?”

“Woman, don’t you think I figured that? But it’s not us.”

“Okay, first of all, don’t call me a woman as if it’s a bad thing,” she said, “and second of all, if not you, who is?”

“I don’t know!” he cried out. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you guys but you seem so adamant about blaming us. So tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you on the spot for what you just did to my guys, huh? Tell me, woman.”

“‘Cause you don’t want to risk pissing me off,” Matt cut in. His teeth bared, giving the man a good sense of the darkness that lurked behind the mask he put on. The Devil came out to play. “And you don’t want to risk pissing her off either,” he said, pointing his finger at Eliza who simply smirked. “I’m not kidding, right now she’s holding back because of me but when I tell her to raise hell, you’re done for, and you really don’t want that.”

“He’s got a point. You don’t want that.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of a woman scorned, and she’s got plenty of rage where what she did to your men just came from. I will let her, trust me.”

He made her sound like a guard dog on a leash, but perhaps she was just that when they fought — his dog on a leash. It shouldn’t have been as exciting as it was.

“I don’t give a shit. You trespassed on our territory,” the man charged his weapon, she felt the sizzling in the air getting stronger and her hair tilting further in the direction of the alien power source. His body craved a taste, just a small one. She wanted to see beyond the blue core. It was almost as if a completely different being possessed her, her eyes wide as she stared into the barrel, but she wasn’t scared. She was far from it. She was intrigued.

“Do you even know what you’re holding?” she wondered. “The kind of power you’re trying to wield without the necessary knowledge?”

“Oh, and you do?” he challenged.

“You have no idea.”

Her hands started to glow bright red. The maroon in her eyes faded into black, stars of scarlet dancing in her irises, and her lip remained curled in a smirk. The red rushing through her veins was natural, a familiar feeling that consumed her.

The man’s face fell. “Fuck.”

She wanted him to surrender, it was all she planned to do, but she underestimated the lengths he was willing to go to prevent getting caught in the crossfire of a possible gang war or going to jail. He pointed the gun back at Matt, her weak spot, and he fired.

How it happened, Eliza wasn’t sure. She only faintly remembered reaching her hands out toward the blast, redirecting it toward herself. As it hit her, her palms faced forward, a red wall of smoke and pure energy building between her and the alien force. Both clashed in the middle, red meeting blue, fire meeting water, energy bursting into energy, and foreign particles soaring through the air and setting the atmosphere on fire. The universe seemed to explode, her reality clashing with that of an entirely different world, a universe beyond theirs. Both forces crashed together like two cars driving at high speed over the highway. As soon as they drove head-first into each other, the force caused a chemical explosion.

It was a blow-out of epic proportions and the force pushed her back. In the air, she was weightless, but pride goes before the fall and when she crashed into the shelves at the back of the room, her head hit the metal. She slid back over the floor, landing right in front of the wall. The back of her head collided with the brick wall. The energy compressed her lungs, a fire burning bright above her head, but she must have hallucinated. It couldn’t have been real. The fire slowly turned into dots of blackness, silence overtaking her, and her ears fell into silence as she fell victim to the compelling darkness.

She, however, did not stop falling once her vision turned black. She fell through the dark void and barely caught herself on her feet when the ground came in sight. It was the red ground covered in sand and smoke; she could barely see her feet. She was still wearing the suit and otherwise, she seemed more than alive, but she had been tricked once. The wasteland was a familiar land in her mind. Something that she had once felt comfortable in only caused a numb thudding in her chest. It was so strange, so foreign now.

The darkness around her fell into scarlet so dark it turned maroon and it twisted and turned in circles until it formed six individual stones formed like a rhombus floating around her being, the glow turning different colors wherever she looked. Six stones, six different elements, six broken pieces of the universe’s core.

In the distance, she could make out the faintest of purple resting on the skin of a gigantic stranger, but he didn’t have a face. She stared at his back, unmoving, and when she tried to see more, he moved further into the distance. The stones kept her trapped in their circle and she bit her lip, trying to get closer.

The red one called for her, but so did the blue one, and the others joined in. They were silent screams of her name, a pull, unlike anything she had felt before. Several threads connected her to each rhombus, a two-way street of invisible strings. She called for them as they called for her. Her body craved to be whole, and it would only be whole with all stones close to her, it seemed. So she stepped forward and reached out for the glowing red stone that seemed to scream her name the loudest.

Where she was, her mind seemed to be malfunctioning. There was no voice of thought or reason in her head. It was just her, the stones, and the purple stranger in the distance, trapped in the maroon her mind called home. At least it had once been when she could still sort emotions, now it was void of anything important. It was just red now, as was the stone she reached to touch.

She realized too late that it was probably a mistake. The middle of her forehead started to glow the closer she got, and when she finally touched it, the world around her exploded again. The stones broke, crystals soaring around her head as the floor opened up beneath her, fading into smoke, and the walls around her broke open to reveal a vast space of different colors - blue, purple, red, and golden, stars dancing across the endless sky and the glass of mirrors broken around her.

She was falling again. Eliza tried to catch herself on the red stone, but the gem was gone like all the others, her head glowing, her hands glowing and somehow her soul was on fire. She could see the universe from the outside, could see the world, could see the reality behind a red screen, susceptible. Reality was open to being controlled and even manipulated. Not everyone had the power, but the stone had called for her and she had the power to manipulate reality. It felt strange like reality was an object she could hold in her hands, but it was invisible to the eye.

Pictures flashed across the screen, faces dancing in the galaxy, planets passing by and she could have sworn she remembered some of the places she saw. Her face was there, Matt was there, the Avengers were there - she saw Tony and everyone she ever loved dead on a battlefield, but on the opposite side the world was prospering with life. She saw death and destruction, and happiness and hope. She saw the world end at one point and start anew at another. It was strange and not everything seemed to be in her grasp - it wasn’t her reality. Those she couldn’t touch, couldn’t feel, weren’t in her control. Time and space blurred together, she saw the blue line drawn across the universe, and the streaks that suddenly broke out of the line formed a new web of glittery roads across the galaxy. Green, it was definitely green. Space was blue. The pictures she saw were both red and orange, and she herself seemed to be floating in a yellow bubble. The pull she felt was the strongest and it made the world around her explode in a burst of pure energy; it was purple. Everything was suddenly purple. Those weren’t the colors of the emotional color wheel, they were much different and with every passing color she could feel a different aspect of the invisible ball of reality she held in her bare hands.

Her back shattered through a mirror below her, glass splattering everywhere, the sharp pain cutting her skin open and bleeding into the vastness of space. She hit the glass and at the same time, she hit the ground. Her head thudded, her side burned with the wound of the blade that had cut her, and the darkness replaced the beautiful colors she saw. She woke up with a gasp, shooting up from her position on the floor. She reached out, panicking, and latching onto the leather next to her. The suit felt oddly familiar, and once her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized she was in Matt’s lap.

He had removed his mask, leaning over her as if to protect her from the world. Tears glistened in his eyes. She wondered how long she had been out. The alarm bells in her head were still ringing, but the dull gray of the room they were in gently brought her back from the edge she had been standing on. She was no longer falling, she was safe in his arms.

Her vision was working, but her lungs still struggled for breath. She pulled at his suit, not sure whether to push him away or pull him closer. She was oh so scared, and it showed in the way her heart raced against an invisible clock.

“Hey,” his voice pushed through the cotton in her ears, “Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay!” he said. “Look at me. Look at me! There you go.”

Looking into his soft eyes, her heartbeat started to slow and so did her breathing. Her lungs deflated, then filled with air and she coughed. The action alone caused another sharp pain to rip through the back of her head, following all the way down to her side where she could feel the blood pooling out of the cut still.

Matt smiled, his tears fading, but the redness of the hint of them was still there. “There you are. Hi.” He brushed the hair out of her face. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

Her hand shot up to her head. “Fuck,” Eliza cursed to herself.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he said, his hand still running through her hair. “I thought I–“ He refused to finish the sentence.

She weakly touched his cheek with her blood-stained hand. “I’m okay,” she said. Bittersweet Deja Vu, the blood stains on his suit.

“You’re bleeding,” he was referring to the wound on the back of her head, which he touched with gentle fingers, but the amount of blood he could smell didn’t match up to what he could feel.

He listened closely to her skin, the way it shifted over the bone as she breathed raggedly, and he followed the coppery scent of her blood, a scent that reminded him of a trauma he long tried his best to bury.

She hissed when his hand found the hole in her suit, the knife had gone straight through the spot that was not made out of bulletproof material. The hot liquid coated his fingers, the cut deep and the fabric around the wound soaked already.

“What happened?” Matt ground his teeth. “Which one of them did this to you?”

“It’s just a cut, I’ll be fine. My head-” she groaned, “hurts like a bitch.”

“You probably have a low-grade concussion and one hell of a head wound, but the one on your side… Sweetheart, this is bad. We need to get you out of here.”

“I’m ok-ah!” He lifted her up into a standing position, but the stretch helped neither her throbbing head nor the stabbing pain in her side. “Okay, maybe I’m not,” she grunted before she toppled over, hand pressed to her side in an attempt to stop the new gush of blood that came out.

She felt a little dizzy and her muscles hurt. But most of all, the dream she’d had while she was unconscious kept her wondering about what she saw. It had been so much at once and still nothing at all.

Matt caught her. His arm wrapped around her waist, hand applying pressure to where hers already laid over the wound. “Okay,” he murmured, “I’ve got you. Hold onto me.”

Her nails dug into his hip, a vice grip to keep herself from passing out.

“You good?”

Eliza nodded through gritted teeth, “Just get me home.” She wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to stand.

He had never walked home that fast. With her in his arms, it was harder than without, but they eventually managed to stumble into the apartment. He set her down on the couch, her lips parting in a silent cry at how much the skin around the cut moved. Her nails clawed into the leather of the backrest, head resting against it. A thin layer of sweat covered her forehead, but it wasn’t the heat that caused her pores to open up.

He knelt beside her then, she didn’t hear him coming, and he splayed out the first aid supplies on the living room table as well as a bottle of water and some rubbing alcohol. The thought alone pained her and he hadn’t even started yet.

“Can you remove your top?” Matt asked her. His coordination was off, he couldn’t find the zipper.

She nodded again weakly, somehow managing to slip out of the top half of her suit and dropping the soaked fabric next to the couch. She was left in her sports bra, the cold air of the room sending a shiver down her spine.

Tipping the cotton swab into the alcohol, he pressed the other hand to her abdomen. “This is gonna hurt,” he said.

She knew it would. The disinfectant burned on the fresh wound. It felt as if her skin was being seared off and skinned alive. She cried out, “Ugh- fuck!” Her nails dug deeper into the leather.

“I’m so sorry, but it’s only gonna get worse from here on.”

The needle pierced her skin and once again, she cried out. Her eyes rolled back, the tears at the corner of her eyes spilling over. She was used to getting stitches, but something about the wound felt different than usual, and it hurt.

Matt stopped, his eyes faced downward guiltily, almost.

She assured him with a hand on his head, “Keep going, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, you’re in pain,” he said.

“I know, but you can’t change it. Just do it as fast as you can, okay? Please.”

He sighed, squeezing her flesh again and forcing the needle and the thread through. Her cries continued muffled through the back of her hand that she bit down on, the tears mixing with the sweat of blood loss and the aftershocks of the concussion. She forgot about the headache, the sharp pain in her side seemingly doing its best at burning her entire body on a stake.

His work was thorough, but he rushed anyway because he could no longer hear her cries whenever he had to pierce her skin, and her pain projected onto him. He hated hurting her, he hated that she got hurt because of him and that they had almost been at the same point they were a month ago. He didn’t want to lose her, not again.

Eliza finally relaxed into the cushions when he cleaned the wound with some water, put salve on it, and bandaged her up. An ice pack on her head eased the ache, too. The wound wasn’t deep so he decided to forgo the stitches and instead put a bandaid on it. The fight took it out of her.

He listened to her slowing heartbeat. “For a moment there I thought–” he began, not sure where he was going with the vulnerable confession, “I thought I’d lost you again, and I- I felt hollow,” he said. “So fucking hollow, I thought- I really thought I’d have to hold you again, I’d have to hear the breath leave your lungs and your, uh, heart stop again.” A tear slid down his cheek and soaked into his suit. “I thought I’d lost you, Liz, and I realized- I don’t ever want to feel this way again.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. She couldn’t separate reality from dreams anymore. Surely she had seen the same picture as she was falling, and it didn’t end well for either of them.

She sat up straighter, as much as she could with her injuries. “Are you–“ her breath shuddered and the tears reappeared, though this time the pain was entirely mental, and the fear paralyzing, “Are you breaking up with me, over a stupid gang fight?”

He was taken aback by her question. Matt blinked, licking his lips and reaching out to grab her hands. He caressed them, squeezing them in reassurance as he made sure not to terrify her further with his terrible choice of words. “No, no of course not!” he said. “I would never. God, don’t think that. I wasn’t- I phrased it wrong. This was not what I wanted to say, at all.”

She relaxed. “Oh.”

“What I was trying to say was, I don’t ever want to lose you. Never. I love you too much for that. You are- okay, I don’t know how- my feelings, they’re complicated. I don’t know how to phrase them or- or understand them. I–“ he grunted in the back of his throat, frustrated to the point he considered not trying to find the words to say what he felt, but he was already too deep in to pull out now. “I think…” he fidgeted with her fingers instead of his own now, “You are, by far, the best person I have ever met and you make me so fucking happy, but also so fucking scared something might happen to you. I might be traumatized after what happened, and I’m sorry if I scared you by being scared, I just don’t ever want to feel so empty again.”

Her heartbeat was still racing out of her chest.

“I’m in love with you, Eliza,” he said, “I’m so in love with you, it hurts. And I just realized that you — insufferable, reckless you — might just be the only one for me. You are… you are the love of my life, and I don’t say that lightly because well, I have no fucking idea what’s going on inside of me, I just know that you are all I feel and it scares the crap out of me.”

The tears were streaming down her cheeks at this point and he didn’t have time to comprehend before her lips were on his. He held the back of her head, cradled her cheek, and drowned in the love she poured into a single kiss.

“I thought you were breaking up with me,” she said.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t–“

“I’ve never been in love before, so I don’t know much about it, but I do know one thing,” Eliza held his face in her hands as she admitted what had been on her chest for so long, “You are my first and I want you to be my last, which means that you’re the love of my life too and you’re not getting rid of me, no matter how many knives to the stomach or- or alien blasts I have to take for you.”

He breathed a broken chuckle. “I’m so fucking happy to hear that,” he said. “But please, for the love of God, don’t ever take a knife or an alien blast for me again.”

“I can promise you a lot, but I can’t promise you that.”

“I know.”

She placed her head in the crook of his neck. “Take me to bed?” she said.

He lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom where he placed her down softly enough so her stitches wouldn’t get disturbed, and he began to strip her of the suit. She was too tired to protest. He helped her into one of his shirts, soon enough returning with his own suit shed in the bathroom and nothing but his boxers and a white shirt on his body.

As Matt settled into bed next to her, her mind began to reel again. The vulnerable love confession was real. She was the love of his life and he was hers. That much she could tell wasn’t a fever dream. They were real, they were made for each other.

What she didn’t know where to sort were the pictures she saw, the infinity stones, or the creature she saw hiding in the distance. The stones screamed her name and the red one seemed to have screamed the loudest, almost like a warning. She saw the galaxy when she fell, and she places and people she recognized but were never the same. And the lines of glitter she saw, the splitting roads at the core of the universe seemed like they had a deeper meaning too, but she couldn’t sort them all, she couldn’t even sort the different colors or where they belonged. They were just there. They existed. It was real, but perhaps not in her reality and another instead.

“Matt,” she broke the silence. His eyes were closed, but he was still awake. He hummed, telling her he was listening. “Do you believe that there is a multiverse?” the question came out of nowhere, surprising both herself and him.

She had thought about it, but she never thought she would be asking a devoted catholic such a question.

“A what now?” he asked. He frowned and paired with the small smile he gave her he looked way too adorable to be real. She traced her finger over his nose just in case. He shivered. He was real.

“Multiverse,” she said. “Multiple universes existing simultaneously to ours, with different versions of ourselves and a different reality that is under someone else’s control.”

“Like in physics?”

“Yeah, like in physics.”

“Are you asking me if I believe in the string theory, physics, or the possibility of multiple universes in my personal opinion?”

He was just toying with her now, not taking her words too seriously. Considering how tired he was, she couldn’t blame him, and her question sounded too absurd to come out of her rather educated mouth. He blamed it on the concussion, surely, which was why he entertained her thought with amusement. She was serious though and she wanted to know because she was slowly losing her mind, it seemed. She needed to stop herself from splitting in two.

“Can’t you just answer with what you think?” Eliza looked at him intently, her gaze burning through his closed lids.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, why?”

“Curiosity. Reality is subjective, after all, and can easily be manipulated. You know what I can do, so I was wondering if you think a multiverse is a possibility that we, as a civilization, should eventually concern ourselves with. It happened with aliens,” she said. “It might happen with the string theory too. It might be proven right. We don’t know.”

“You just answered the question yourself. We don’t know. I guess we’ll find out eventually the same way we found out about life beyond our world. What else do you need?”

“A thought.”

“Do I get a penny?” Matt mused.

She sighed, “Sure.”

“I believe in God, which means there is only our solar system, our planet earth, and our galaxy. There is no other universe but the one we live in,” he told her, “because there is only one God, and how would a civilization in another universe even exist without a God? Now, I know about biology, but evolution is essentially part of the Bible. God can’t be copied, so he wouldn’t be real outside of this world, and a godless universe seems wrong to me. So no, I don’t think we have more than one universe. We’re just fine with the one we’re living in, don’t you think?”

The statement itself deserved more argumentation, but she was too tired to argue and Matt seemed less interested in the topic than she was, anyway.

“So,” he raised his eyebrows, “Answer enough for you?”

Eliza, too tired to protest, pecked his lips. “Yes,” she said.

“Okay then. If philosophical questions are what it takes to keep your concussed brain awake, keep ‘em coming.”

But she didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to sleep.

“Sleep is off the table,” he read her mind, “It’s too risky.”

“I fell asleep the last time. That was after we had sex, remember? People with concussions shouldn’t have sex either and I am so tired, Matty,” she pouted, “So please, let me sleep.”

He sighed. “Alright,” at the sound of her voice, he could only cave, “but you have to be okay with me waking you every ten minutes to make sure you’re still alive.”

Placing her head on his chest, Eliza inhaled his scent and felt his heart under her fingers. Real. Everything was real.

“That’s okay,” she was already yawning, half asleep.

Placing her head on his chest, Eliza inhaled his scent and felt his heart under her fingers. Real. Everything was real.

His soft 'I love you' was all she heard before she fell asleep.

#matt murdock #daredevil #foreigner's god #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x female!oc #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #human disaster matt murdock

17 notes · View notes

dollofdeath · 2 years

Text

art summaries for this year >w<

template by @/Taxkha

(I / II / III is a comm i haven't posted anywhere / IV / V / VI / VII/ VIII / IX / X / XI / XII)

template by @/sabattons

more stuff under the read more, because there's quite a few stuff i actually liked this year!

january

this was a comm for kiz, but i think it came out pretty bomb. any hypsters who are into projmoon/projmoon fans into hypmic pspspsps --

actually i think this was my first ever piece this year, so it's interesting to see how much i've improved in over the past couple of months!

also i did some comms between feb and may to help raise some money for my relatives in the philippines, but i don't think i should post the ones i really like since the project isn't complete yet. but i think they came out bomb too, trust me -- (the volo art in my art summary is one of these comms lol)

april

i just wanted to post these two together since they're a set LOL thank u arb for giving me flowers that aren't roses to associate with hifugen....

also here are the unblurred versions of this set lol

may

this is just one of my fave hifugen headcanons KJFSDJKJKF

gentaro about hifumi: 🙄😒😑 gentaro about hifumi, when hifumi's fangirls are around: *draping himself over hifumi* excuse me ladies, do you have any business with My man?

KJFSJKDFSJKJH

august

i think i went rly hard in august. august was really a turning point for me this year too i think, so maybe my art reflected that haha, but anyhow. i really love these

everyone and their mom has done a religious jakurai art, but i wanted to do one too... the detail i rly like is the blood on his hands. because i like to headcanon that jakurai has vitiligo on his hands. i like how i incorporated that hc in this without making it too busy lol

THIS ONE. HELL YEAH. this is a redraw of an older art i made for thanatos' anniversary, and i thought the first one was cool but i was like "i think i have the skills to make this even better now" and I DID!!! idk, i'm glad i could capture the horror vibes more poignantly

september

this one is?? i don't think i made her a full reference sheet, i realized lol but i started streaming for friends because i have a bunch of game recs and no attention span to play them WKJGJKD so i decided streaming them so i could be held accountable for them would be the best way to do it LMFAO

anyways this is my pngtuber. they have no name, but she's a shopkeeper of a mysterious antique store. originally that doll on the bookshelf was gonna my pngtuber and i came up with a bunch of lore for her, but then i realized i had another oc design i really dig and was also simpler, so i revamped that for streaming FJKSDJKF but i would like to put that doll to use somehow or another. anyways if u can pinpoint all the references on the shopkeeper and their bookshelf and even her store's very existence, i love u --

catch me on twitch on sundays and mondays for mhyk and ace attorney respectively --

october

as much as possible, i try to do a vanistar anniversary art because noël is my baby boy... i'm so happy with how this year's came out!! ofc there's areas that could use work, but i like the colors and lighting c:

I'VE BEEN MEANING TO DO AN IBERIA AU FOR JAKUDO FOR SO LONG... probably as long as the koibito AU for hifugen, but i just haven't been able to put it into words... i'm glad i could at least do a bit of this year, and i hope one day i can manage the whole concept!! also this idea's been in my head for so long that arb managed to reveal demon designs for both jakurai and doppo, sparing me the effort of designing them myself FSJKJKKJH

this one is also a set, so i wanted to post them together hehe again this is based off a horror rpg concept me and gianna came up together back in high school that will probably never see the light of day lol this probably doesn't surprise anyone who knows us, but these characters are based on us FKJSKJH

wah... i think my artist wrapped really covers what i have to say! quantity-wise, i'm not too happy with how much i made... it can't really be helped considering how busy and tiresome it's been this year, and i really wish i could say i can do more next year, but it's likely i'll be posting less and less in the future TwT but as much as possible, i'd still like to share my work! i think this might be my time to start focusing on original stuff, but i still wanna do fandom related stuff because there's still a lot of ideas and concepts i wanna see realized!! also i just love my fandom blorbos a lot lol, so i'll find ways to do things for them >w<

quality-wise though, i think i'm pretty pleased! last year i got csp, so i was still figuring it out, but now i think i got a better hang of it! and that means my art looks more confident i think haha. of course, there's still a lot of room for improvement, but it's nice that i can look at my stuff and go "yeah i like this!" i'm excited to see where my artistic journey goes from here!!

but yeah, maybe it wasn't a plentiful year for me re: art, but i made some pretty nice stuff despite that! thank you all for the support, and here's to next year!!

#kai tries to art

3 notes · View notes

solipseismic · 3 years

Text

accidentally george lucas’d myself.

#can't believe this ...#fate and ira were A Thing and have been for a while now but. i was just mapping out fate's mom's family tree #and forgot that fate's older sister marries kalafrin #and then the two of them have kirand and yetaglin and erysidn #and then THOSE three end up adopting ira neda and adrian nemat #and like they're not Blood Relatives but like ????? i just somehow never realized that #fate is ira's GREAT AUNT ???#i've had these characters for over seven years i ......#tbf i just had erysidn slated as 'raised ira for like ten years and then released her into the wild' so it really just never registered as #'ira is actually a part of isina's massive ass family tree'#why the FUCK did this snake bitch ass have eight children #EIGHT !!#me at age 12 deciding 85% of my dragich characters are indirectly related to isina somehow : this definitely won't come back to bite me in #the ass later #god.#god!#thank god they r not planned endgame. but whew.#That Was A Close One.#technically a camp nano update ig #demon city #danika byrne #ira neda #skysteel

4 notes · View notes

zerozeroren · 2 years

Text

I've mentioned before that I'm in the process of revamping a Princess Tutu OC from ages ago, and here she is!

The explanation will get long and ranty, so strap in for my flow of consciousness XD

Fable/Fay/Frida, the one that wasn't ready

I dug up some old fics of mine and decided to rework them because i think there's solid potential there.

So, this is Frida (Aka Fable, Aka Fay), 16y/o, and I hope it is obvious from her name and design that she is Mytho's younger sibling. (I based her color scheme on swan fledglings: they're grey, weird and very fluffy, and their beaks are blue, thus the colors. Also her hair, just like Mytho's, kind of suggest going grey)

Fable was a young child when Mytho jumped out of the fairytale into reality to chase the Great Raven, and she (her fairytale name being Frida) missed her big brother enough to follow him. She lost her memories upon her arrival, but her heart wasn't shattered like Mytho's, so she didn't stop aging. She was adopted by a sweet couple who themselves lost a baby daughter to a strange accident some time ago (wink wink). She was given the name Fable, since she didn't remember her own, and she grew up thinking this name to be lame because it, similarly to Mabel, is "an old lady's name". She goes by Fay for short. And, well... Fay lives a very normal human life until the story comes in motion.

Fay attends Goldcrone Academy. She's Autor's classmate, and plays violin. She's an okay violinist, but clearly doesn't take her studies seriously (she doesn't take things seriously in general). Her style is very far from an academically approved one, something that you might hear from a carnival musician rather than from a professional stage performer in a concert hall. Other than music, she has a lot of hobbies, and constantly picks up new ones, while often dropping the ones that she lost interest in.

The Prince and the Raven unfolded without ever touching her (except for the Raven blood rain), and a couple of years passed peacefully, but then...

Mytho and Rue, who haven't been to Goldcrone for two years, returned. Not from the fairytale world (as everyone expected), but from their long tour in Paris with a ballet troupe, and both they and everyone around them seem to be a bit shady on the whole "going back to the story" thing. Something didn't work, they didn't get to the fairytale, and the memories of what happened got wonky. Something happened, and keeps happening: that's the only thing that's clear.

Anyway, upon their arrival Mytho and Rue re-enter the friend group, which after the fairytale ended, only featured Fakir, Ahiru and Autor. One day Mytho gets acquainted to Fay via Autor, and they immediately hit it off. They both have a laugh over their silly Fable/Mytho names, they play fencing (Fay somehow just knows how to do that), they seemingly enjoy a lot of similar things in general, like food, medieval music and old fairytales. Fay is endlessly amused that The Fairy Prince of the Academy, the one who floats above the Earth like a vision and has a reputation for being an ethereal being is, in fact, a huge dork, and Mytho's super happy that he managed to make a new friend outside of his found family.

Things get weird very soon. Mytho and Fay even look a bit like each other in certain moments, and the environment around them suggests that the story is going back in motion, and long story short, the rest of the group, not being delusional, quickly picks up that the two are related. Especially since Fay turns out to be adopted and appeared in Goldcrone through very mysterious circumstances. Mytho is elated. Deep inside, he longed for his blood relatives. He's a prince after all, doesn't that mean that he has to have a kingdom? A king and a queen to call parents? He never realized he wanted those things but now they seem reachable for the first time, and he's excited. The characters let Fay in on the situation, and she, contrary to Mytho's expectations, does not take it well. She doesn't even assume it's a joke, she goes straight to denial. "Tell me they're wrong", - she says to Autor, who's been her friend before this happened, "Tell me you're lying". But he can't, and she just runs away and starts avoiding pretty much every single one of the five. Mytho is devastated. His hopes had just appeared and were immediately crushed. Also Autor is mad with him, because if it wasn't for him, he wouldn't have lost a friend himself. Fay, on the other hand, has an enormous identity crisis. Nothing seems set in stone anymore, things are no longer normal, her view of the world and herself completely turned on its head. Everything she knew was a mirage, and she doesn't want it to be true, but deep down she knows that it is: she's been having some weird and mystical things happen to her for years, and this new information would have explained it all. The thing is, Fay likes her life. She loves her parents to bits. She loves school, the "peasant style" violin, her friends, loves helping her mom in her little shop, and she doesn't want anything to change. The possibility of losing all that is dear to her scares her. On the other hand, she feels some sort of an itch. A small part of her heart wants to be a fairytale princess, wants her to be special, have mystery and adventure, and Fay hates herself for these feelings, but also for denying them. She's super confused, and the relationship within the group get weird and very messy, just like her relationship with the life that she once had.

One way or another, the cast finally ends up in the fairytale world. They meet The King and The Queen of the Swan Kingdom, and both Mytho and Fable are forced to assume their roles as the Prince and the Princess respectively. They are Siegfried and Frida now. Siegfried is full of hope and delight: he finally found the place for which his heart longed for, he's joyous about finding his parents, about presenting Rue to them as his future wife and his Princess, he knights Fakir properly, and gives Ahiru the title of the Lady of the Court. Ahiru, after what she has done for the prince and his fiancé, instantly becomes a national hero. Fay, however, is miserable: she misses her parents (the ones that adopted and raised her), she misses her friends, and her violin, her many hobbies, her freedom. Her new parents are strangers to her, and the rigid rules that she has to comply to are weighing her down. She feels trapped, and she does what is asked of her with reluctance. She plays the role of the princess because she doesn't have much of a choice, and when she discovers that being a princess comes to her naturally (old habits never die and all that) - she gets scared. Initially the Fairytale world seemed like a strange dream to Fay - but at some point it was Goldcrone that seemed like a dream and a vision. Fay feels like she's losing herself to Frida, as if the two of them weren't the same person.

I'm also planning on something extreme happening, like the Raven kingdom invasion or something like that. Something pressing and urgent and scary, that will demand action from the cast and from Frida. Fay will see it through and deal with it as a Princess, but that will be the last straw for her. She will be broken. She just wasn't ready.

She'll make a firm and a very selfish choice to come back to Goldcrone and forget everything that she had learned. Go back to being Fable, old lady's name and everything that stands by the person who had it. She wants to forget her new-old parents, her being a Princess, and even Siegfriedz despite the fact that it was her love for him that brought her to Goldcrone in the first place. It is all too much for her, she can't take it. She wants to regress.

She's granted what she wished for. Happiness to those who accept their fate, glory to those who dare to defy it. But she ran away from her fate, and she will have neither.

Because, however strong her desire to forget is, these things just don't go away. The memories that she's blocking will haunt her. There still will be a part of her that she denies. She won't be content or happy, and her cowardice will make her feel so very guilty: at that point she won't even know for what, exactly. She'll need a lot of inner growth to reconcile the two parts of her and make it up to the people she hurt with the choice that she made: an unwise, brash decision of a sacred teenager. Not everyone is strong like Ahiru, and Fay certainly isn't.

#my art stuff #princess tutu #princess tutu oc #fable #fay #my new flawed child #i really really wanted to write someone who's a letdown #oc lore

158 notes · View notes

necros-writing-stuff · 3 years

Note

(Uuuuh, tw for a/b/o, inc*st, noncon, shitty writing, and implied somnophilia. May or may not be working on a version where Whitney actually likes his cousin. Also, no editing, I'm dying like the parasite babies I forgot existed before fucking off to Alex's farm)

The ride home from the airport is hell. Whitney's mother keeps asking you questions about your life, about the rest of the family. You babble on and on about how you're the top of your class, how everyone in the family is doing great, how you've already got a place at a university reserved for you when you're finished with your year of travel. Whitney's in the back seat of the car with you, but he can still see how it makes his father's hands tighten on the steering wheel each time you open your mouth, each time you remind him how his own son is nothing but a disappointment.

Whitney stays quiet, using all his self control to not lash out. His parents always compared him to you, 'why can't you be more like your cousin' this and 'your cousin would never' that.

Then there's the fact that you're a beta. Someone Whitney is supposed to naturally be better then.

Sometimes it makes him want to scream.

Whitney's mother ushers you into the house, leaving Whitney to help his father carry in the luggage.

"Your mother's made plans to go out tomorrow," his father says, "as a family."

"I have plans."

"Cancel them."

His father doesn't give him a chance to argue, grabbing a bag and taking it into the house.

Whitney grumbles to himself, dragging in the rest of your things.

Oh, of course they put you in the guest room right next to his. Can't be free from you for one second, can he?

"Just in case you need anything" he catches his mother telling you as he drops you things off, "Whitney is right next door."

Whitney's about to say something about not being a nanny when his father catches his eye, frowning. Fine, he'll be a fucking nanny.

You sound breathless as you thank his mom, your face flushed and eyes a bit too bright. Maybe you're getting sick? Fuck, would he be expected to take care of you if you got sick? Probably.

Whitney ducks out of the room before his mother can try to get him to talk to you. There would be plenty of time for him to suffer on whatever "family outing" his mother had planned.

Whitney locks his door, stripping to his underwear and getting into bed. He's got no reason to be awake. Normally he'd sneak out of the house, smoke a bit in the park with some friends. But no, he gets to be dragged around town, show you all the sights, or whatever. He knows he won't be able to get out of it, might as well not feel like shit from being sleep deprived.

It's 2 a.m. when Whitney wakes up, rock hard with the smell of omega in heat permeating the air. Whitney's initial reaction is shock. What shit for brains omega in this hell hole of a town isn't

on suppressants? The wave of lust that rolls over him stops him from following that train of thought.

It's not the first time Whitney has smelled an omega going into heat. There had been times at school, when someone screwed up, forgot to take their suppressants. Usually the signs of pre-heat would have the omega sprinting to the nurses office before anything really happened.

There had been the time Whitney had seen an omega tackled in the park, whimpering as an alpha had dragged them off. Whitney had been curious enough to watch as the alpha claimed them, snapping at any passersby. He��d enjoyed the scent well enough, but hadn't tried to have a go. Sure, the omega had smelled good, but not good enough to fight over.

This is different. Whitney's not sure if they could describe the scent even if they wanted to. Somehow familiar, but strange, different.

Whitney's out of bed before he even registers what he's doing, following his nose until he's standing outside your room.

Oh.

You? You're an omega? His shitty perfect cousin, who everyone compares him to? And you've gone into heat?

The nob turns easy in his hand. You've left it unlocked, in a town like this? But Whitney doesn't dwell on the question as he approaches your bed.

You're curled up, already built a nest and everything, eyes squeezed shut and whimpering as you rub yourself through your pajama shorts.

"Pathetic."

You jump at Whitney's voice, try to hide yourself in your nest but to no avail. The bed dips as Whitney climbs in.

"D-don't," you try to say, but Whitney's amped up pheromones are making your brain go hazy.

"Everyone thinks you're so perfect, but you can't even take care of yourself." Whitney pulls at your clothes as he speaks. You try to fight him but your attempts are weak. "Talking about how fucking smart you are, can't even remember to take your suppressants."

"D-didn't know," you manage to get out, losing the battle to keep your shirt.

"What dumb fucking omega doesn't know when they're going into heat?" He's got your shorts down to your knees now, and you are more focused on covering your groin than trying to get them back. Slick is already coating the inside of your thighs, making your underwear cling to you.

"Didn't know! P-presenting. Now. First t-time!" Your words are jumbled as Whitney pries your hands away from your crotch.

The words make Whitney pause and for a moment you think the nightmare is over. That whatever had possessed Whitney to climb into your bed has left him. Your hope is crushed as Whitney gives you a wicked smile, wrenching your arms above your head and pinning you.

First time! Whitney was going to take your first time! His stupid, perfect cousin! The one everyone fawned over, and he was going to ruin them!

He manages to gather your wrists in one hand, using the other to strip you of your underwear. Your scent is even more powerful now that you're fully exposed. Whitney's surprised no one else has come to investigate, but who is he to complain?

You're crying as Whitney frees himself from his own clothing, but you're no longer fighting him. You seem to have resigned yourself to your fate.

Good, you've already started to learn your place.

Whitney doesn't bother to give you any kind of preparation. You're leaking so much slick that there's already a wet patch forming on the bed.

Besides, he wants it to hurt.

“You know, Everyone always talks about how you’re so perfect, how it's such a shame that you’re a beta.” Whitney hooks one of your legs round him, giving him better access to your hole.

“Immagine what they’ll think when they learn you’re just an omega bitch.” Whitney's cock presses against you, your breath hitching as he nudges against you. "That all you're good for is spreading your legs for your betters."

You go rigid under him, eyes wide, mouth agape, a he cock is forced into you. Even with your heat putting your body in the ideal state to take a cock, nothing could have prepared you for this. You start to writhe under him, whining as Whitney forces himself into you.

"S-stop. Whit, please," your voice is a strained whimper, barely audible even in the relative quiet of the room.

"Shut up," he growls, leaning down to lick your neck, dangerously close to your scent gland, "or I'll do something you'll really regret."

His threat makes your blood run cold. He wouldn't really do that, would he? But he's already done so much, you don't doubt he would take it further.

Whitney's hips meet yours as he finally settles fully inside you.

"You're so fucking tight," he groans, starting to pull out. "Sure you're in heat? Not just some shitty beta begging for cock?"

He doesn’t wait for an answer, slamming back into you, making you cry out. Whitney sets a bruising past, taking no regard for your comfort. The room soon filled with the lewd sounds of skin slapping skin and your cries.

Fuck, you're too loud. At this rate the whole neighborhood was going to show up, thinking he was killing you, let alone his parents. Whitney wraps a hand around your throat, cutting off your air supply.

You struggle on instinct, only stilling when Whtiney gives a low warning growl.

Whitney keeps growling insults about how wet you are, how you obviously want his cock or you would be fighting harder. As if he isn’t keeping you from moving. As if he didn’t threaten to claim you if you didn’t let him do whatever he wanted.

But your body doesn’t seem to care.

That's the worst part, the pleasure building in your gut, your body responding to Whitney’s in a way that leaves you disoriented. His movements in you become less painful as your body adjusts to him, his cock hitting a spot in you that makes your vision go funny, makes you glad you can’t make much noise with Whitney choking you. You don’t even realize that you’ve started to jerk your hips in half hearted attempts to meet his thrusts.

The edges of your vision are starting to become fuzzy as Whitney's knot starts to catch in your hole. When Whitney pushes in and can no longer pull out, he lets go of your wrist, opting to force your legs open a little wider so he can grind against you easier.

You grab onto the hand around your neck, grip weak as you try to pry it off. It takes everything in you to keep trying when Whitney snaps at you, but you can’t breathe.

The hand on your neck disappears, only to be replaced by Whitney’s mouth. He bites at your scent gland, hard. It sends a wave of overwhelming pleasure though you, even as you're tears start anew.

He’d claimed you. Whitney had claimed you, just like he’d threatened. And the worst part was you couldn’t even bring yourself to fight him, just crane your neck so he could have better access to scenting you. The attention he lavishes onto your neck driving you to orgasm.

It’s the tightening on his cock that finally sends Whitney over the edge, his cum painting your insides as he continues to grind against you until fresh tears start to run down your face from overstimulation.

“Can’t believe you got off during your first mating, fucking slut.”

His words feel like they are coming from far away as You struggle to keep your eyes open. You groan low in your throat as Whitney shifts, his knot tugging at your hole as he makes himself comfortable.

"Marked….me..." its difficult to speak, toung feeling thick.

"I didn't use teeth, idiot. How the fuck would I explain that?"

You try to point out that you'll still smell like him. That you'll reek of his pharamones, but your words get stuck.

You let yourself slip into unconsciousness as you feel Whitney start to grind against you again.

You guys are spoiling me with this content. All those kinks in one?

This is very good, anon, thank you for sending it in!

#Whitney the Bully #omegaverse #tw inc*st #tw dubcon #tw noncon #spill your guts #🎃 anon

62 notes · View notes

mcyt-amber-tftsmp · 3 years

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐑𝐨��𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 #𝟐

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Ranbob loves to cook with you and would definitely cuddle with you whenever you are free cause he doesn't feel like doing anything else other than that.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Ranbob admires how you are determined and shy you are. he finds everything about you beautiful especially when you giggle. It literally makes his heart beat and makes him blush since it's adorable.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Ranbob would just bring you close to him while embracing you tightly while telling you that he loves you so much and whisper sweet nothings to you. When it comes to panic attacks it's always you comforting Ranbob but if it had to be the other way he would just help you calm down by hugging you.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Ranbob just wants to get married with you and have a family. He loves you so much to the point he wants to see you smile and be happy with him.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Ranbob is basically the dominant one from you and in my defense he is a confident one to be exact and I can literally see you Ranbob simps just dying right now cause it's true.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Ranbob is definitely gonna regret yelling at you and making you cry so of course he's gonna forgive you and apologize for yelling. When it comes to you guys fighting over things it always ends up okay at the end or sometimes you starting to cry.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Ranbob is really grateful to have you around to keep him going. He has many regrets that haunts him till now and is aware of how you are helping him through times when he needs it.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Ranbob would share things with you but one thing he didn't share is how he killed your brother, Isaac in cold blood. Though one day he did talk about this with you which of course made you cry and everything but in the end you forgave him cause you knew that wasn't him. He still didn't forgive himself for doing this.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Ranbob changed for the better when he met you. He is glad that you came around and helped him become a better person when no one else could.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Ranbob gets really jealous. He would literally death glare at the person hitting on you to make them get the idea you are taken or would come up behind you and wrap his arms around you waste and glare down at the person and as if that netherite sword wasn't already looking too good to create a mess.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Ranbob is a good kisser. Though the first kiss was long, passionate and loving to be exact. Take it from me guys I simp too much for him.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Ranbob would take your out on a date and propose to you there. he would most likely set a picnic date anywhere that looks good in Mizu or a beach in the overworld.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Ranbob would most definitely want to marry you and that same goes with you wanting to as well. He would prepare a romantic date at the beach and propose to you there. The marriage would probably be a private one to be exact since none of you have any relatives or friends or anything.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Ranbob would call you sweetheart or princess or shorty just for teasing. Mostly call you sweetheart though.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When Ranbob fell in love it was something new to him considering he's never been in love and it was a very new feeling but he was good at hiding it as he thought it was nothing but he soon realized how much he had fallen for you whenever you talked to him or giggled.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Ranbob isn't really upfront of about your relationship and neither are you. None of you brag about each other though but he's pretty bold enough to kiss you in public but you aren't.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

Ranbob is technically an enderman hybrid that has teleportation abilities and reversed teleportation so yeah technically if you are somewhere within ten feet away he would teleport you to him.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Ranbob didn't really know much to be romantic but it's the thought that counts. He can be cliche and creative at the same time and would do anything to make you happy.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Ranbob supports you all the way and would help you achieve your goals cause he believes in you a lot.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Ranbob would most definitely try out something new.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Both you and Ranbob know each other well about each other. Not all the way but mostly. Both of you are empathetic.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it's worth in comparison to other things in their life?

When it comes to both of your relationship, both of you know that it's important and you both trust each other and it's worth anything else.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Whenever you fall asleep on his shoulder, he would smile and give you a kiss on your forehead as he will carry you in a bridal style and lay you down on your bed and lie down beside you and cuddle you while making you face him and fall asleep as well.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Ranbob is very affectionate towards you and he loves to kiss and cuddle you cause it makes him happy and the fact that you are close to him.

Y earning - How will they cope when they're missing their partner?

Ranbob gets pretty worried thinking something bad happened to you. Same goes for you too.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Yeah both of you are to be honest. You two are not sure but eventually you guys will have something to make your relationship go in great lengths.

#ranbob #ranbob x reader #ranbob x you #ranbob x y/n #alphabets #tales from the smp #lost city of mizu #fluff alphabet #mcyt #dream smp

42 notes · View notes

setriete · 4 years

Text

This is a story of my OC of Wick - Colin. Sorry for mistakes, I'm not good at translation. It contains violent moments, so be careful

____________________

I was guilty.

I ... was an idiot, a dumbass, and a fool. Or even worse. Doesn't change the essence.

I've never had friends. Everyone was running away from me and my character. Nobody wanted to accept me as I was. This is probably why everyone hated me. This is probably why I only did what I did to others. It was my mistake ...

I moved to this town quite recently, but already managed to acquire enemies. Once I quarreled with a younger boy so hard that I pushed him and he fell. And he never got up. I got scared and ran away. Everyone took it for an accident, and I was silent. Of course, who wants to be labeled as a murderer? So I pretended to have nothing to do with it. For the time being it was scary, until everything more or less settled down. I already began to believe that this event would pass me by and would not hurt me, even though I felt guilty.

But one day ... I was caught by a group or rather a gang of teenagers my age or a year or two older. Of course I asked what they wanted from me. One of them came close to me until the others let me escape.

- It's you ... you are to blame ...

It turned out that it was the older brother of that boy. He fell into a coma, but one day he woke up for a short time. His relative was alone in the ward and did not even have time to call the doctors, and he could not figure it out. All he asked was, "Who did it?" The boy said my name and surname. And he fell asleep again.

It's my fault. I tried to apologize somehow. I honestly did not know that he had a brother, and could not know that he would want to take revenge on me ... I did not know.

- I don't care what you didn't know, do you hear, you ?! He may die, and all because of you !!

His voice ... he was so angry, so loud ... so full of pain. I understood that he felt angry. But I didn't think it would turn out like this! I tried to get through somehow, but to no avail. I was dragged towards the forest, to the gate. There were legends about this place in our city. The fire, the loss of five children, ghosts ... I was overtaken by horror, but I did not believe it, I considered it just horror stories.

I would like to escape, albeit shamefully, but escape my punishment. Yes, I was a coward. I felt that something bad was in store for me. But I could not imagine that it was so much.

We went through the gate, he walked in front and led the others. They dragged me like a sack, not caring that I stumbled literally at every step. They did everything he said: they pushed me to the ground and surrounded me. Now the path to freedom was closed. What were they going to do? Usually, in such cases, the victim will be hit. Well, I thought I was just going to get beat up properly, and that's it. Perhaps I would have earned myself a fracture or something, went to the hospital, but I would have survived ...

How naive I was.

- Hey, give them back!

- Oh, no, no, why do you need them?

He tore the watch off my hand. The watch my father gave me. Shit! I tried to resist, but leg flew straight into my chest. And more ... more ... in the back ... in the shoulder ...

It seems ... they broke ... my rib ...

- Well, how do you like now? Not really, is it?

They really started beating me. And mostly not the leader himself, but others. Specifically, I did nothing to them, but since I crossed the road to him, I crossed them too. And at that time he himself stood and watched. With a grin, he liked it ... and the others laughed at my pain-distorted mine.

... Then I got punched in the face, already from the leader. I wheezed, screamed, whimpered, tried to say something, but they wouldn't let me do it. Then stones were used. I was a target, to my then happiness, not for long. But all the same he could not get up and almost rested his forehead against the grass. My vision was dulled from bruises and gushing blood, I was distracted by the torment in my body, by the pain in my chest. It was very difficult to breathe. I thought they would stop there and just leave.

I somehow raised myself and looked at him. He looked at me from top to bottom predatory, but in his eyes that sense of victory was not visible. What else did they want from me? ...

It was as if he saw this question in my eyes and ... pulled out a twisted rope from behind his back. It was strong and long in appearance. Whether intuitively, but then I quickly understood everything. My eyes widened in fear, I fell on my back, trying to somehow defend myself, crawl away, and convulsively shook my head.

`` N-no, wait ...

I was so ... pathetic. What was I hoping for? A light punishment? This does not happen, only I realized it late.

But I didn't want to die! I knew that they would not let me go, but continue to beg for mercy.

They just grabbed me by the arms and dragged me somewhere again. Now I know how people who are led to the scaffold feel.

- No, no, no! Please no!

- Shut up!

I kicked and shouted, over and over, but it was useless against them. They just tied me up and hit me again for prevention.

And they turned out to be enterprising. They even made a loop in advance for lynching, so as not to fool around in the forest. Unfortunately...

I ... don't remember ... don't remember. I was suddenly lifted into the air, and just as abruptly, this air disappeared from my lungs. The broken rib hurt even more than when I was beaten. I coughed, tried to inhale, opening my mouth wide, convulsively jerking my legs and arms, trying to pull the noose off my neck. But the neck seems to have broken instead.

It took me a long time to pass out.

But I still remember his last phrase:

- Dead shoes are useless.

I woke up at night. It was dark, only the stars shone in the black sky, and the silhouettes of the trees were frightening. I had no shoes on. I looked around. No one around. They're gone? I'm in hell? Or not?

There was a noose around my neck ... oh, right, they hanged me. But why am I here? Surprisingly, the injuries I received did not hurt and did not cause torment, even a broken neck did not make itself felt. I didn't even breathe!

Have I become a ghost?

I didn't know what to do next, and just looked around. Where should I go? What to do? I still stood and stood in one place ...

Until I heard some noise nearby. I already had nothing to lose, and I went for it. I couldn’t know WHO I’m getting to know. I couldn’t have known that those stories about the spirits of missing children were true. I didn't think they would accept me into their ranks. I didn't think I would become another prisoner of this damn place. But you know ... I’m not alone now. Yes, I hated my killers, but I ... I guess I deserve it. And even if I became no better than them, but someone much worse, I did not think that I would have ... friends?

... Yes, perhaps friends.

#wick horror game #wick hellbent games #oc x canon #oc

47 notes · View notes

moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 7

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Talk of blood and aggression.

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewritesm @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner

~~~~~~~~~~

"So how come we all had to get on the jet early, but you two got a few minutes of chatting?" Morgan asked as you and Spencer entered the jet. Your cheeks were a bright red, making you worried you would give away how you felt with one glance.

"I dunno. We did get here on time though. It's only been 20 minutes since he released us to get our things." You remind, hoisting your bag up your arm and taking a seat. You fiddled with the sucker stick in your mouth, humming gently as you enjoyed it.

After a moment you looked up at both Spencer and Morgan, who looked at you with surprised expressions. Spencer, on the other hand, had a bright blush accompanying his gaze.

"What?"

"Since when did you have a caramel apple pop?" Morgan asked. You chuckled as you pulled it out of your mouth.

"Since this morning, dumbass. I do have friends I spend my weekends with. Who else is going to keep Gabriel from hitting on every eligible man in the neighborhood?" You tease, laughing slightly.

Morgan shook his head, widening his eyes for a moment. "to each his own, I guess." He trailed, leaving the conversation at that.

You put the sucker back in your mouth and looked up at Spencer who had somehow decided standing was better than putting his messenger bag down and taking a seat. You let out a chuckle and pat the seat beside you.

"Come on, Spencer. I promise, I don't bite. Physically." You tease, letting out a giggle soon afterwards. He looked at you uneasily, but still took the seat offered to him without complaint.

"Damn, Mystery Girl's got you wrapped around her finger, huh pretty boy?" Morgan asks, narrowing an eyebrow.

Rossi chuckled. "I would say so. You've been sitting next to her for each jet ride to a case and back. Even when the rest of the jet is open to you." He points out, a smirk obvious on his face. You blush and chuckle at Rossi's observation. You nudge Spencer gently to continue teasing him, stopping as Hotch came into the room. What you didn't notice was Spencer's longing gaze that centered on you as soon as your gaze turned off him.

"Any ideas on the profile?" Hotch asks. "We have two alpha personalities working together. If they're constantly together, we will never catch them." Hotch reminds.

"Perhaps we should look into their records? They're different men somewhere along the lines. Every pair of siblings are, whether identical twins or otherwise." Spencer explains. You nodded, turning back to the rest of the team.

"Either we get the more level-headed one to realize the wrong they're doing and slip up, or the more hot-headed brother to go out on his own on impulse. Either way, we have one of them. Once we do, we can find the other. They're not their best without the other." You observe, explaining your ideas to the rest of the team.

"Sounds like a plan to me. Take away one of the pieces of the puzzle, you can't solve it." Morgan adds. "Garcia, you got anything for us babygirl?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, I definitely do!" Garcia answered cheerfully. "So your brothers lost their only living relative when they were each 23 and 27. Their dad died of a seizure in the hospital after a large car wreck. Though the murders I've found still occurred before this, but were in less quantity. Something tells me their dad was doing this and trained them how to kill." Garcia listed off.

"That might've been the biggest stressor. What about the father? Do you know of anything like that yet, Garcia?" Hotch asks.

"..Yes sir, just found a sealed record from Lawrence Kansas. Apparently their mother was killed by a fire in their home when Sam was 6 months old and Jensen was 4 years old. The similar murders with the connection to their father and them began after that. The arsonist who set the fire was never found."

"There it is. So their father, grief-stricken and feeling guilty goes out on a murder spree in the hopes that he'll find the monster that took his wife from him. After he died, his sons took over the 'family business'." Prentiss inferred.

"But why continue the killing? You think they'll stop when they finally find the arsonist?" Rossi asked.

"Guess we can assume they haven't found him yet. Won't be long till they do. If these two are that good at tracking one another and escaping from prison, they'll find him." Morgan cut in, folding the cover back over the tablet.

"Garcia, get us some medical and financial records on these brothers. See if we can find anything we can use to draw one away from the other. Anything will help." You ask.

"Of course my lovelies, I'll get those back to you as soon as my fast fingers can find it!" She promised before she disappeared from the screen.

Hotch sighed and stood up from where he sat. "Alright. Morgan, (L/N), I need you two to visit the last crime scene. They didn't bother to try and dump the bodies." He began to assign jobs. "Prentiss, Reid, I need you both to talk with the familes, nearby neighbors, etcetera. See if we can't pick up on any of their unrecorded past. Rossi, JJ and I will begin the investigation at the station, talk to the press and try to figure out motive."

"Hotch, forgive me for not understanding, but, why did they not bother to dump the bodies?" You ask as Hotch began to walk away.

"The latest bodies were burned, and were found with traces of salt on their bodies. Almost cremated." Hotch answered you swiftly before heading towards the bathroom.

"Oh… well that's new. Salting and burning? Sounds like something out of a ghost hunter story." You observe.

"What kind of books do you even read kid?" Morgan asks, laughing to himself and shaking his head.

"Good ones." You huff.

"Sure they are." Morgan teased. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in protest. Sure, it wasn't your most well thought out plan, but it worked.

"Leave her alone, Morgan." You heard Spencer defend, making you look up at him.

"Spencer…" you said softly. He apparently didn't hear you, as he soon after continued.

"She actually reads, which is more than you can say." He almost growled, catching both you and Morgan off-guard.

"Damn man, I'm sorry. I'll leave it alone, alright?" He promised, holding up his hands in defeat. Spencer grumbled and leaned into the seat, sighing to himself. You lifted your hand and rubbed his arm gently, smiling at him softly.

What was going on with him today?

○●♡●○

"So when were these guys found?" Morgan asks as the two of you were lead into the motel room that the previous two victims were found.

"About a week ago at most. Though the autopsy says they died about three days beforehand. Poor bastards." The deputy says, pulling the sheet of the bed back to show you two the gigantic blood splatters on each of the bed frames and the pools in the sheets.

"Overkill much?" You ask semi-uneasily, giving Morgan a look that he returned with an uneasy nod. "Was the autopsy able to figure out how they were killed? These blood splatters had to have been created when they were alive. This is too much blood for one person to give if they were only being burned alive." You question, pulling on a pair of gloves and getting on level with the bed frame.

"Yeah, uh… stab wound to the gut for each of 'em. And on the first one, they had to slit his throat before the stabbing apparently. The wounds were all done by the same type of knife, rigged edge with a wooden handle. It isn't retractable." The deputy reads off.

"Thanks deputy. Hey, by the way, anything on these guys? Why were they together in a motel room?" Morgan asks him.

"This wasn't their motel room. This motel room was rented under the names Dean Campbell and Jared Winchester. The clerk says they look exactly like their id photos. These guys were tax people. Collectors. The only thing they ever did wrong was accidentally take more change than they were meant to have at the grocery." The deputy insisted. You rolled your eyes. Of course these guys were 'innocent'. But there seemed to be something in their final days that pissed these brothers off.

"We get that, Deputy. We're just gonna need you to fax our technical analyst a list of all of the suspected victims and proved ones. She may be able to figure out a pattern between all of them other than interacting with our two suspects." Morgan instructs with wider, more understanding eyes. You weren't paying attention as you were looking at how the men were laid back down in bed. Although their bodies had mostly been burned to ash, you should see an outline of ash left from when the bodies were taken to the autopsy.

After a few minutes, you failed to hear Morgan turn from the deputy and come stalking over behind you as you tried to find any sort of pattern.

"So, is there something you and Reid wanna tell us?"

You jump and clutch at your chest. "Damnit, Derek! Don't do that! And no… no we don't." You huffed, standing up to your feet soon after. Derek had broken your concentration, and you weren't getting it back. To be fair, you weren't finding anything otherwise.

"You sure? Don't think we haven't seen how you and pretty boy interact. Don't lie to me, mama." He teases, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, pulling off your gloves and tossing them into the trash.

"Yeah, I know. Alright? I… just because someone is playful with the other and defends them even when others are teasing them doesn't mean the love is requited." You grumble, realizing what you said minutes after. You quickly cover your mouth and look into Morgan’s eyes pleadingly. Curse you and your big mouth.

Morgan raised an eyebrow and his smirk grew wider. "So… you admit you love him?" He pries, making you groan. You would try to walk past him, but it would be a lost cause. He would catch you before you got too far.

"S-so what if I do? Like I said, just because he acts like that around me doesn't mean he feels the same. Alright?" You admit. "Besides, you all have only known me for two months. The only exception being that you, Reid, and Hotch met me once weeks prior. I don't believe in love at first sight." You insist, huffing again as you tried to get your friend to back off.

"Nuh-uh, you don't get to say he feels nothing just cause we've only known each other for a short while. I saw the kid almost hook-up with Lila Archer after like only a day of pining. I'd say your chances are pretty big, princess." He insists, winking at you.

You groan and run a hand through your hair. "No, Morgan. I don't want to just be a hook-up. In fact, I don't want to hook-up with him. I want him to like me the way I like him. And that's probably not gonna happen. He avoided me after he drove me home after my first case. It took him having us getting into another case for him to interact with me again. Now I'm done talking about this. Bring it up again and I'm using what limited hacking skills I have to find embarrassing photos of you to show the entire team." You threaten playfully, pushing past him and leaving the motel with a grumble. You got into the SUV and slammed the door once you were settled.

Were you really that fucking obvious?

○●♡●○

Once you were back at the police station, you and Morgan had come up with a compromise: he wouldn't talk about the crush around the rest of the team as long as you didn't keep any of the interesting stuff from him. Whatever that was.

You may have also gotten his number off of him for Gabriel. Cause hey, you had to get his forgiveness from not calling him when you had gotten home from your first case.

"Hey, uh, (L-L/N)."

You raised an eyebrow as you looked up to the person who had spoken to you. "Hey… Reid, you need something?" You ask, putting your pen down. He nodded and gestured for you to follow him into the evidence room.

"Okay… uh, what do you need?" You asked, messing with strands of your hair.

"Okay… (Y/N)..." he starts. You instantly blush at the way he says your name. You could only wonder what it would sound like if he were to say it like a prayer.

"I-I kinda wanted to… screw it." He sighs, rubbing the back of his head exasperatedly. "I shouldn't have avoided you the morning we came back from your first case. I think I just needed some time to take it all in." He answers, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Hey… don't freak out about it. I'm just glad you didn't run towards the hills once you saw how nutty my mother is. Especially after hearing my explaination." You replied, rubbing the back of your neck in mirror to him. You both laughed softly at how idiotic you both were being.

"I could never." He insists, giving you a proud but sincere look.

"Well, you wouldn't be the first if you had."

You let out a sigh and rub your left arm awkwardly with your right hand. You wanted to say something, anything really. The wedge between the two of you was mending. You just wanted to encourage more than just that.

"Morgan keeps pestering me for my name." You add after a moment, giggling gently. Spencer replies with a slight chuckle and a blinding smile. Well, blinding to you.

"I wouldn't put it past him to ask Garcia to look you up." Spencer expressed, chuckling a bit. "I only found out by chance." He laughed.

You smiled at him, feeling your beating heart begin to soar. "Well… if we're being open and honest with each other like kids, I was already planning on telling you and the team. But then mother dearest found me. I have to make sure that he-" you stopped yourself, sighing again. "That she doesn't do anything to sabatoge this for me. I have the rest of the year to fully make a decision. And once I have, I'll announce my name."

Spencer looks at you sympathetically. "I… I don't know what it is your sheltering me from. And nor do I know what it--He? Did to you. But you didn't deserve it."

You hold your hand that had fallen from your neck against your chest. You fought the tears and blinked them away as soon as they began to cloud your vision. "Thank you, Spencer." Was all you could say.

Spencer smiled at you, reached over and wiped your stray tears. You both stared at the other for a moment, not finding anything else in the world more interesting than each other.

After a few minutes, you finally broke your gaze and looked down in slight embarrassment. "Uh… i-is there anything I can help you with?" You ask with a slight chuckle. He mirrored it immediately, swallowing a gulp.

"Y-yeah, could you help me with the geographical profile? They probably don't live anywhere permanently, but I-I'd like to see if there's a pattern." He says, picking up a small carton of pins. "Would you mind helping me?" He asks. You didn't have to think twice.

"Of course I'll help you, Spence." You reply, picking up a few pins and flashing him a toothy grin.

Well, at least there was one problem fixed. You just hoped you'd be able to fix the others as well.

An hour later, once you two had finished placing most of the pins, Hotch came into the room in a hurry. "(L/N). We need you on this one." He insists. You spin around and raise an eyebrow at Hotch's nonspecific request.

"O-okay, on what? What happened?" You ask.

"You were right. When we talked to the press and said something to insinuate one of them was incompetent, one of them lashed out. We have him in the interview room now. But he refuses to speak to Morgan or I." Hotch explained. You widen your eyes at Hotch, almost completely focused on his announcement that you barely noticed that Spencer’s hand had raised to the small of your back from already guessing what Hotch needed from you.

"W-what about JJ? Prentiss?" You ask. Hotch sighed.

"He said he wanted to speak to the agent who had the 'smart ass plan that got me locked up in here'." He informed with an annoyed sigh.

Reid was quick to speak up afterwards. "T-that would also mean me, right? Why does she have to interview him?" Spencer asked.

"He was adamant about speaking to a woman. He almost attacked Rossi and Morgan because we wouldn't adhere to his 'simple' wish."

You sighed and looked up at Reid, nodding to him. "I'll do it. Just be sure to watch at all times. From what I got from his records, if he's the hothead, he's going to lose his shit if he doesn't get what he wants from me." You say.

"We'll be on the other side of the mirrored glass at all times, (L/N)." Hotch assures. You sigh and squeeze your eyes tight.

"I'll do it."

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x you #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

98 notes · View notes

marsbutterfly · 4 years

Text

The Scientist’s Gamble - Part 2

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: As the formation rides out, Hanji takes a moment to meet your eyes, and you smile at her. Today is going to be a win for humanity, you think to yourself. You could not be more wrong.

AO3 Version! | Wattpad Version!

After an hour or so peacefully riding your horses towards the forest, you begin to feel the floor shaking in the distance. Not long after, the first red flare is fired. A Titan. Thinking back on your knowledge acquired studying Titans with Hanji, you know it is a 5m from the way the ground is trembling - not tall enough that it will necessarily take more than a couple of Scouts to kill, but could still cause damage if it wasn't stopped in time.

You move your face to the right, enough so you can look at Hanji to see if this is the one she wants. She shakes her head - she doesn't want a regular titan. You know that that crazy look in her eyes can only mean one thing. She's after an Abnormal. Goosebumps travel up and down your body, and you reposition yourself on your horse to face forward once again. Without even realizing it, a smug smirk spreads across your face. This is going to be so fun!

"Reiner! - " you scream. Your throat hurts from the effort you put into the sound, yet you still prepare yourself to do it again.

" - I need you to ride to the center of the formation. Inform the Commander that if an Abnormal appears, bring it closer to us. Tell them they should not kill it unless absolutely necessary!"

"Of course," Reiner screams back, allowing his cloak to fall back against his shoulders. His blonde hair ruffles in the wind, a ridiculous smile plastered across his face, "but I'm just curious," he says, and you know exactly what's about to come out of his mouth before he says it as he yells, "Who the fuck put you in charge?"

Before you even have time to laugh at his stupid comeback, the beautiful brown haired scientist riding alongside you responds, "I did!"

Eyes wide, his lips scrunch up as he turns away to avoid eye contact with you and Hanji.

"Now go, Reiner!" Hanji says.

"Yes ma'am!", is all he says before he steers his horse left and rides out of sight. He doesn't give you the chance to say anything in response.

You can feel the laughter bubbling up in your chest, from deep in your throat to burst out of your mouth. You try to hold it in until the blonde soldier is out of sight, but you know he can hear you.

Tears form in your eyes as your stomach starts to hurt. You just can't keep it in. The look on Reiner's face is the funniest thing you've seen in a long while. Once you finally manage to slow down and take a deep breath to pull yourself together, you look over to Hanji to find she's been carefully watching you the whole time.

"Thank you for defending me!", you shout, flashing her the biggest smile you can manage.

"Of course! I'm not going to let anyone undermine you! You are my second in command right now! You know me better than anyone else! That's what makes you such an amazing assistant," her grin widens, "and an amazing friend!"

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks once again, but before you can reply, you notice something in the corner of your eye.

It's a black flare.

You and Hanji lock eyes for a brief moment before you both let out an excited scream at the same time - "LET'S GO!"

You can see it now. The Titan is easily 7 meters tall, if not taller. It has blonde hair and brown eyes, and a relatively normally-proportioned body and facial features, but you notice it's walking with a strange limp. At its ankles, the Titan's feet were pointed in the opposite direction they should be. Yet, it runs ahead eagerly as if nothing is different. You've never even thought this was possible.

Perfect! You think to yourself.

You stand up on your horse and switch to your 3D maneuver gear. You shoot your grapples around the top of a tree branch and swing on top to land on your feet with a sense of balance that you're proud of. Multiple horses ride toward where you and the rest of the Scouts stand above them. The massive titan follows the Scouts closely, too close for anyone's comfort, but they're not giving up.

Once the monster is close enough, you and Hanji share a look before you run towards it, preparing yourselves to jump down on its shoulders, cut off its limbs, and strap it to the floor before it regenerates.

Data collected on previous missions showed that it takes approximately 4 minutes for its arms to regenerate, but it shouldn't take you that long to trap it. You're all extremely prepared for this, you've practiced for this and almost every other situation.

Now it's the time to prove you know what you're doing - except nothing could have prepared you for what came next.

The trap used to capture the titan is a fraction of a second late. You're already in the air, arms flung back in preparation to cut its underarm when you notice something is wrong.

Everything happens in slow motion as you see it's massive arm intercept the cables of your grapples, yanking you like a yo-yo across the trees. Your body collides against one of the many enormous trees surrounding you. The pain shoots all over your body. It is too intense, and your vision gets more clouded by the second. You could hear Hanji screaming your name, but you didn't stay conscious for much longer than that.

A few minutes pass by, but the damage caused by the titan makes it seem like much longer. You could see bodies all around you, at least 10, 15. Your comrades, your friends, dead because of a mistake out of your control.

Huh? you think, and that's all that goes through your brain at moment. There is blood dripping down your face, and you're unable to tell if it's yours, the Titan's, or to one of the many bodies lying next to you.

A 5m titan wanders closer to you with every second, and somehow you manage to pull all the strength left in you. Your body is finally forced to sit up, despite all the pain, in your head, your bones, your heart.

"Why is this happening? This is not how today was supposed to go. We prepared for this expedition for weeks!" suddenly you stop talking. Your mind starts spinning as you desperately look amongst the pile of bodies, searching for one in particular.

"H-Hanji?" you manage to force out a whisper, but as soon as you take a deep breath, all the pain you were feeling, the grief for your fallen comrades, the rage towards titans, "HANJI!"

As you become more aware of your surroundings, the warm blood dripping down your face and the pain of your broken ribs are almost enough to make you stop fighting, but a small voice in the back of your head says: You need to find a way out of this forest and back home. You can't let the titans win!

You grab your blades and swing them with all your might, trying your hardest to keep the 5M Titan away for as long as you can until you have a plan. The truth is you just can't die now, but you also can't fight for much longer as you feel your body starting to cave in. The pain from your ribs is becoming unbearable, and your lungs feel like they will collapse at any moment. With every breath is getting harder to breathe. You want to keep fighting for longer, but in your condition, it just doesn't seem possible.

It's alright Y/N, you think to yourself, Your efforts weren't enough, but that's ok. Putting the blade down, you accept your fate, but hopefully, it will be quick. You close your eyes as the massive hands wrap around your already crushed body.

"Oh no, you don't!" someone screams, and their voice is the last thing you hear before passing out once again.

You wake up to a bright light shining in your face. Your eyes open slowly, groggily.

Is this the afterlife? No. You can hear the saline dripping, in what kind of afterlife would you be hooked up to an IV in?

The pain in your head travels all over your body as if it's using your veins to move around. You try to readjust, but stop when a new pain shoots through your chest. You count one, two, three broken ribs. It could be worse. At least you're still alive. Your eyes slowly travel down the bruises that cover your body. Some scratches, stitches, broken fingers and toes. You are not even certain that you still have all of your teeth.

The shape beside you shifts ever so slightly, but it's enough to catch your attention. You turn to look, and into focus comes Hanji. Her head lay on her arms, which rest on top of your mattress next to your right hand. This is one of the few times you've ever seen her hair down - it looks a little messy, but it's still as beautiful as ever. Her glasses are folded on the bedside table in front of her. How long has she been sitting here?

"Han...ji..?" The effort you put into making the sound for only her name to come out is considerable. It scratches and burns, to your frustration, but the weak noise is enough to get her attention.

"You're awake!" she says as tears fill her tired brown eyes. "I was so worried about you - please don't ever do that to me again!" A small hiccup forms in the back of her throat. Her lower lip quivers.

The mere sight of Hanji crying is enough to shatter your heart. You try your best to comfort her within your confines. You reach to touch her hand, eyes softening. The sharp pain of your ribs again forces you to gently recline your back on your pillow once again, but you hold her hand tightly.

"What happened?" you ask.

"The Abnormal we were trying to trap moved faster than anticipated it would. The soldiers fired the net approximately 1.9 seconds late but it was enough to derail the entire plan."

She lifts your hand to plant a kiss on it, almost like she was buying herself time before she had to tell you what the rest of the losses were. Flashes of memories come back to you snippets at a time, not enough to give you a full understanding of what happened, but enough to make your heart sink.

Hanji continues, "Your jump would have been perfectly timed if everything had gone according to plan. When the Titan got out, it tangled your line, and you went flying into a tree." You remember the pain you felt at that moment, you've never felt anything like that before. You could remember clearly the sound your ribs made as they broke.

"After that, it became clear to everyone that our mission had failed, and by the time Commander Erwin gave the retreat order, the Abnormal had already eaten everyone around you. Your body was laying among all the corpses around you and I thought I lost you forever -" Hanji abruptly cuts herself off. She catches her breath and closes her eyes to compose herself.

"I heard you scream my name. I ran back to find you, and you were in the Titan's hand. I couldn't let that happen, obviously. I cut off its arm and caught you while Captain Levi went for the nape. I carried your body to the medic's cart, and I haven't left you since."

"How long?" you croak.

Hanji sighs, "Four days."

"And you've been here the whole time?"

Hanji smiles. "I only left for bathroom breaks."

You roll your eyes, but for a few moments, you forget about the pain covering every inch of you. You were never one for impulsivity but now, your body moves on its own. You're more than familiar with how this scene plays out - you think about it constantly. Your hands shake, and you feel your nerves getting worse the longer it takes.

You've been wanting to do for this for years, and now you have the perfect moment. After what happened, you need to kiss her, even if it's the only time you ever do. So, gently but quickly enough that you can't take it back, you grab her face and pull her to your lips. As they seal together, Hanji is taken by surprise, but just as quickly melts away in your embrace. She places her arms on your shoulders as you deepen the kiss.

It's exactly the way you imagined it would be. Goosebumps rise on your body in response to her soft breath against your mouth. A tiny sob escapes your lips as you're all at once reminded you of how much it hurts to move. But that doesn't stop you. After what feels like hours, you pull away reluctantly. You don't want this moment to ever end.

The bright red blush covering her cheeks makes her look even prettier than usual. She gently touches her lips, looking off into the distance like she's lost in thought.

You pull her back into the moment "Squad Leader..." you begin, taking a deep breath and forming fists with your hands. You gather every ounce of courage you have in you. It's now or never. "I've been in love with you for quite some time, and I should've said something before but I was scared."

Once you've started talking, the words pour out of your mouth.

"Now that I almost became Titan food, I don't want to keep it in any longer. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you're talking about Titans. I love the way your hair falls over your shoulders when you're training, and the way you adjust the straps of your glasses. I could sit here and list everything that's great about you because you are the most amazing person I have ever met."

Your hands start to shake, and your throat burns with effort, but you push out your most important statement. "I'm deeply and completely in love with you, Hanji."

Her mouth hangs open slightly.

Did I just make a huge mistake? It doesn't matter - I had to get this off my chest, you think to yourself.

She's extremely quiet for a few seconds - no more than a minute, but enough time for you to start panicking.

"Since when?" she asks.

"Since I listened to your guest lecture on titans when I was still in the Training Corps."

"Why haven't you said anything up until now?"

You can't help but laugh. "Everyone in the Survey Corps, and probably everyone in the entire military already knows. I just assumed you weren't interested."

"Huh?? I've never noticed!!" she says, waving her hands above her head. You laugh again as you readjust yourself on the bed. "But now that I think about it, I guess you did hug me a lot for no apparent reason... and Erwin did insist that you be my assistant..." she counts off on her fingers, "and you always blushed when I touched you and - oh wait."

She looks down at her legs, her fingers flying to fidget with her hair. "I can't believe I didn't notice..." Her blush spreads deeper once the realization hits her. "The truth is, I've been liking you too, but I thought you liked Captain Levi, or Eren."

You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head. Hanji laughs, standing up to wave you over to the other side of the bed. She lies beside you on the hospital bed, placing her head on your shoulder while carefully lacing your fingers together. She's careful not to bump your injuries. The smell of her hair awakens the butterflies in your stomach, and you place your chin on her head to wrap your free arm around her shoulder.

"I'm glad you're alive." Hanji says. Her voice is barely audible, her words meant for you alone. "From now on, I won't leave your side. You'll be out in the forest killing titans in no time."

You smile. "Right now, there's no other place that I'd rather be than right here next to you." She looks up at your face, flashing you a grin before she pulls you closer, and your lips close against each other once again.

A week later, you listen to birds chirp outside of the window while you read your book. The sunlight feels warm and nice against your legs, and the rare silence you're in is much appreciated. It doesn't last long.

"Y/N!!!!!!!!!"

The door barges open to reveal a gaggle of teenagers stumbling over one another.

"Y/N! I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!" Sasha yells as she runs to hold your hand, but her attention quickly shifts to the half-eaten bean soup on your bedside table. She looks at the soup, and then at you once again.

"You can have it, Sasha," you say with a smile, gesturing to the small bowl. The starved brown-haired girl doesn't lose a second and instantly starts to devour it. A giggle escaping your body as you watch her.

"How are you feeling?" Eren asks before sitting on the bed.

"I'm alright, but I'll need to stay behind during the next few expeditions. I should be good as new in a month or two!"

They stay with you for a little less than an hour, telling you all about their experiences with the failed mission. You find out from them which soldiers were lost and which were injured, along with other small details Hanji didn't mention.

A knock on the door causes all eyes to turn away from you for a moment. Hanji starts to enter, and then gasps as she realizes you have guests.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asks.

You flash her a caring smile while reaching your hand out to grab hers. She blushes slightly, but sits beside you. "Of course not. I was wondering where you were," you say. Mikasa makes eye contact with you, and then looks pointedly at your hands as they sit clasped. You blush too.

"Meeting with the Commander," Hanji sighs, "It went on for longer than expected, I'm sorry."

You could hear the giggles coming from your friends as their eyes rest upon you and Hanji.

"We should get going now, but we'll be sure to come over again soon!" Armin says as he and Mikasa push the rest of the group through the door.

Hanji leans forward to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, and when you open them, you meet Mikasa's emotionless gaze from a crack in the doorway, Hanji's lips still on you. Your eyes widen, but Mikasa just nods, face unchanged, and closes the door behind herself.

"They're good friends to you," Hanji says after a few seconds.

You smile."They're also a handful. But yeah, you're right."

A long, rather comforting silence passes between the two of you. During the silence, you take time to focus on how soft her skin feels against your fingers, tracing the visible veins on her hand as your mind drifts away. You're pulled back to reality as soon as you hear her voice.

"It's a beautiful day outside, would you like to sit on the grass with me?"

The breeze rushes through your messy hair as you adjust yourself on top of the blanket. You squint your eyes and places your arm against your forehead in an attempt to keep the sunshine from hurting your vision.

"There's something I want to ask you, Hanji," you mumble.

"Yes?" She inquires, tilting her head while looking at you.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" The expression on your face remains the same as when you had been peacefully basking in the sun, but you can hear your blush rushing, heart pounding in your ears. She looks away while blushing, and you're able to notice a smile appear on her face.

"There's nothing I would like more," she says, turning to face you once again. "Well maybe an abnormal, but I do want this a lot."

"You're impossible!" you say while gently pushing her arm.

As you two laugh, your bodies get closer as if they are moving on their own until your lips are sealed in a love-filled kiss. You wrap your arms around her neck while she grabs your hips, slowly pulling you onto her lap.

"I'm in love with you, Hanji." you whisper against her lips, not wanting anyone else to hear these words but her.

"And I'm in love with you, Y/N."

You hug her tightly, feeling her hair against your face as the smell of her shampoo fills your nose. For the first time since you started to prepare for the now-failed mission that led to your injury, your body isn't in pain anymore. You can relax in Hanji's arms, knowing that your long time crush is finally your partner. You can worry about researches and experiments and missions later, right now all you need is Hanji.

"Let's stay here for a little while longer," she says before resting her back against the grass, carefully pulling you towards her. Your head rests on her shoulder as your fingers lace together, a feeling of peace takes over your body knowing that from now on, you'll have her by your side no matter what.

"Yeah... I would like that." You say as you close your eyes, focusing on her breathing as the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze lull you to sleep. Maybe the next time Hanji comes up with the idea to capture another titan, you'll stay in the lab instead.

#my sunshine #hanji zoe x reader #hange zoe x reader #fanfiction #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #hange x reader #hanji x reader #hanji zoe/reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction

56 notes · View notes