#i think it's old enough that i don't need to spoiler tag for it.

[ethereal-blossom]

Deep dive on Victor and his possible past + curse

This man is as attractive as he is mysterious and the curiosity is killing me, so I just need to let out some thoughts.

** I'm going to be referencing some translations and posts so I'll link them and their OP's (I'm too afraid to tag hehe but they deserve all the love and appreciation🩷)

Be aware of JP and EN spoilers

First, what are some things we know and are safe to assume when it comes to Victor? He's the co-founder of Crown and the Queen's Aide. I think it's safe to assume Victor is the oldest in Crown; Harrison calls him an old goat, he acts like a mom, and I believe in the Valentine event the dynamic between Harry and Victor was labeled child-parent. Through this detailed post that @/kurishiri made we can guess that Victor is 30/32+ years, which I have to subjectively note is very hot. William was 14 when he was invited to the castle where he met Victor, meaning that Victor has been associated with the castle for at least 14 years. Was he already the Queen's Aide back then? High-likely, yes.

But how long exactly has Victor been the Queen's Aide? And how did he become one in the first place? One thing that stands out to me is this dialogue in Victor's Wicked Little Secret event:

For context, Victor is sharing why he started doing magic tricks. He explains it's traced back to the queen and how she does them as a reminder of how difficult but precious it is to get someone to smile.

Of course, it can be that Victor simply didn't go with the queen to the slums that day or that she told him about it, but I like to think about the possibility he didn't know the queen at this point but knew about it anyways because he was a kid in the slums. It might explain why he doesn't necessarily pay attention to status and why he treats people such as the villagers and Kate as his equals despite being the most powerful man in the country. Does he stay humble due to perhaps having experienced the lack of power, money, and status to a severe degree? And is the Victorian slums the reason why he suffered enough pain for a lifetime?

@/Reccyls translated an event in which the suitors are meant to win over Kate's heart by having her give the suitor a heart-shaped necklace. Jude, Roger, and Alfons are being very proactive while Elbert, William, and Victor are drinking tea. The nobles team points out there's no rush because it's the end of the day that matters. Victor agrees but then suggests they're also probably laid back because they are rich. It might be nothing but if you ask me, that's pretty self-aware and honest for a rich person. Not every rich person will realize having money does influence you, and not everybody loves to point out the frowned upon behavior that comes along with money, especially when it applies to yourself. So, it's a very small thing to say and I might be reading too much into it, but I think the people who know the affect of money better than anyone are the people who weren't born first class.

Victor continues to point out what makes William and Elbert rich, but right when he wants to talk about himself he cuts himself off (🖕/affectionately) . It confuses me because sir, you are the Queen's Aide. Why is it a mystery that you're rich? Elbert asks if Victor comes from nobility but we never get a yes or no answer to that. So is there still a chance he might have been born in a rich family? Yeah, but I'm not a strong believer of it. Victor is known to cook and sew, and I don't remember where or when but I believe he said somewhere that if he can do it himself he won't let the maids do it. Does that sound like the skills and the mindset of a man born in nobility during the Victorian age? Not to me, so here comes my next thought: what if queen Victoria has taken young Victor under her wing?

I don't know how it would necessarily end up like this, though. But I was thinking: it didn't go unnoticed by us that Victor and Victoria's names are scarily similar to each other (it's like yeah whatever we're a bit like Sherlock ourselves yknow💅). What if his name was quite literally inspired by the Queen's name in the story itself? Maybe Victor chose it or Victoria gave it to him.

Because @/shatcey recently made a post pointing out that William said "the man who calls himself Victor." I heavily agree with her that the phrasing is suspicious, mostly because of Victor as a character.

If he is from the slums then perhaps he's an orphan who doesn't know his actual name, or maybe he took up another name? If Victor is not his actual name, it might explain why we don't have a last name in the first place. Also, @/otomefiend translated the Black Wedding event when it came out in JP. While the official English translation uses "business smile" to describe Victor wearing a smile to bury his dark comment, I like her translation saying "Victor, the Queen's Aide' expression" much better. I genuinely could go into depth about this but I sadly digress. It makes me think back on the summary reccyls did for the first christmas event wherein Victor was wondering if he should give a "Victor-like" response.

Naturally, it can also mean he just has different persona's connected to his masks as this is a reoccurring theme and topic in his content. Victor said in the Between Villains' epilogue (translated by otomefiend) that he wants to be seen as the gentle Queen's Aide by Kate, so after showing a bit of his darker side it's natural he goes back to his gentle side that still implies distance to ease Kate. However, that doesn't make any of his masks a lie or someone he is not. Important disclaimer to put out there because this doesn't have to be proof that Victor isn't who he says he is. The phrasing just reminded me of this.

So, it wouldn't be a deep dive if I didn't talk about the theory that Victor might be the queen. Harrison has pointed out twice that Victor lies a lot. I think it'd be so funny if Harry is going to be like "stay away from Kate you old goat >:(" in Victor's route and then William is going to be the complete opposite like "listen to your desires and get a room already :)"

I think we might have seen the queen once, but it's canon that people have cosplayed her so who says it doesn't happen all the time? Victor only has to say the Queen's safety is in danger and then someone will fill in. I think it's safe to assume Cybird is making us doubt whether the queen is alive on purpose and what does that say about the mystery? You don't create mystery when there's nothing to reveal.

In Wrapped in Wicked Romance, something broke from the Queen's tea set only for Victor to reveal that, surprise, it's his own set! During the first anniversary epilogue (talked about by shatcey here) Kate gets told the queen is waiting for her in Victor's office and surprise, it's Victor! Or how in Between Two Villains it's mentioned how Victoria doesn't seem human because of the dedication she has as queen but then the doubt of humanity is a theme in Victor's events as well. Or how in Harrison's route Jude is reading the morning's newspaper and it mentions a criminal situation and surprise, Victor shows up from behind and says the queen ordered a mission related to it... almost like he overheard the news and decided on the spot it had to be dealt with.

To be honest, I don't know what to think when it comes to the queen. If she's actually dead, I think she might have died from an illness and then the veil + private persona might have been crafted to make it easier to look like she's alive (a bit like this one thing in Ikemen Prince). Why she should give the impression of being alive? I don't know, there's a high chance I am reaching. Maybe the queen is very healthy and happily living her introverted life.

Going back to another translation by reccyls, here Victor ends on the note that even if he has feelings for Kate he can't offer anything as "I belong to her majesty/ Victor belongs to Victoria." Ignore that you can call me the wicked witch of the west with how green of envy I turned, but this stood out to me a lot.

I think it shows an incredible amount of dedication and loyalty, and I read it in two ways. If Victor was saved by Victoria, it might be that he feels like he owes her himself, or perhaps a deal/promise was made? But, in a way, I also read it as Victor belonging to England. His loyalty towards queen Victoria is loyalty towards the safety and well-being of England, a land he's passionate about keeping safe.

The relationship between Victor and Victoria is lowkey fascinating to me because if she's still alive, they have been together for so many years. Victor always talks so positively about her so even though we barely interacted with her, I became to really like and admire ikevil!Victoria. Victor is also the only one who we know speaks with the queen directly. For the tea set mentioned earlier, Victor said he replaced them with his own because he is known to break them when he and the queen are drinking tea. Victor braids the queen's hair and helps her with fashion. William even said in this event translated by @/judesmoonbeauty that the queen knows everything about Victor.

We've almost reached the end but the last thing I want to talk about is Victor's birthday event translated by @/archiveikemen. Victor murders a bunch of criminals with what I assume is his curse or something in that direction. He commands them to succumb to his wickedness and the people essentially kill themselves with a peaceful expression. William makes a comment about it, saying these men look as if almost possessed by a God. Victor thinks to himself it's like saying "Her Majesty The Queen" was no God, and then he says humans can never be God. To be honest, I'm slightly confused because I feel like this can mean different things. When Will makes his comment he's speaking about the peaceful faces, so I don't think he's talking about how the criminals were unhealthily worshipping the queen but I assume he's talking about Victor's ability.

One of the reasons why I think it's a curse is because of this post Shatcey made. One of the screenshots translates to Victor saying he doesn't want Kate to end up lying at his feet with a happy face. It sounds an awful lot like what happened to the criminals in the event. Victor worrying about Kate's fate like that makes me believe it might has something to do with the fate of his possible curse. Think about it: Kate essentially gets dragged in every cursed fate of the suitors and if Victor is another cursed individual, it's high-likely his curse is related to death.

There must be something special going on, though. Is Victor's curse like any other but kept a mystery because something about Victor's identity should stay a mystery? Or is there actually something special about his curse or whatever ability he has? Because his birthday event convinced me he's not an ordinary human. However, something special must be going on for this to be a mystery.

Funny story but for a while I thought that if Victor is cursed it might be Ursula from The Little Mermaid. Sometimes you can see Easter eggs of the suitor's curses back in the outfit designs so when I looked at Victor's outfit, I saw he has scrubs on his jacket (reminding me of fish) and something that looks like knots/ropes (reminding me of sailboats), plus the deep blue and black aesthetic still reminds me of the dark sea. There is also a part in the christmas event where Victor thinks to himself he has sacrificed his human soul to death in order to get what he has now, and who has a song about doing business with poor unfortunate souls?

In this flashback translated by reccyls, I think we are witnessing the moment he's sacrificing his soul. He has a choice that'll impact him as a person greatly and I feel like it's safe to assume he's close to dying, so it'd make sense if this part of his life triggered a curse related to death. Also, his flashback says "the path of becoming the dust of history" which is another reason why I think Victor might have come from the slums, or at least not nobility. It sounds like Victor himself thought he had left no footprint on the world, which actually aligns with his character if you read the translation of Will saying Victoria knows Victor better than anyone till the end.

But I got sidetracked a lot. I think the comment Victor made about the queen in his birthday event is another micro-hint. I sometimes feel like I'm reaching like a clown trying to figure out if Victor isn't keeping up the idea the queen is still alive. It almost feels like having a gaslighting lover; am I picking up clues or am I picking up clowns makeup? Wouldn't it actually be a possibility for Harry to help Kate unreveal the mystery that is Victor? Because while they're not the most interactive dynamic, I feel like Harrison will at least have a little role in Victor's route. As I mentioned before, Harrison pointed out twice that Victor lies a lot: one time in his own route and the second time in the Christmas event. He goes a step further in the latter one, saying that if Kate takes the first step towards Victor's darkness, he'll open her eyes to the truth. Plus, Harrison already had his "when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth" moment in his route so I think it makes sense for the Sherlock lover who is a walking lie detector to play a role in the most mysterious suitor who is a walking liar's route.

The actual last thing I want to talk about (guess I'm a liar like Victor) I notice that in events wherein Victor and Kate are together, they declare their love in an interesting way. Since death seems to be a huge part of Victor that possibly is connected to a curse, the two put focus on loving each other even after death. I'm curious if this is part of Victor's possible fate or if this is just a romantic way of thinking that fits Victor's theme. Either way, I think it's perfect to end on this note.

So, I think this is mostly what I wanted to get out. Thank you for having read all the way through and please share any theories you have! And spread love for the people mentioned in this post because I'm eternally grateful for everything they translate and post🩷

[roseofnohr]

not to east of edenpost again, but i still can't get over the fact that when aron and cal are named, samuel mentions that cain was better off than abel despite his mistakes because cain continues to live but abel lives only in the story. because later on, aron dies for that exact reason: he lives only in the story. he joins the military - and ultimately is killed - because he's unwilling to adjust to a life outside of the story he created in his head of the purity of those close to him/in his family.

[dazzelmethat]

Long time no Bud. Wow the last time I made her a ref was 2018. I experimented some with her pallet. Unsure if I like the profile head but oh well, open mouthed anime inspired profile faces are notoriously hard for a reason.

Sigh. What am I going to do with her.. my writing conundrum workshopping in tags. My tag rant mentions plot related suicide and ableism (in relation to the zombie trope).

[jen-with-a-pen]

(In Your) Arms Tonight - 1/2

summary: Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool

word count: 1.3k

warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blood mention, knife mention, beer mention, Wade's fuckin horny and thirsty y'all, pining, cursing, claws, Wade is looking ✨respectively✨, crude humor and language, slight Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, no smut (yet, sorry)

a/n: AUGH DONT LOOK AT ME (actually please do I cannot hold this in any longer.) currently part one of two parts. posting the first one now as I am currently traveling for work and won't be back until beginning of September and then part two will be out when i either A. Get home or B. Finish it and format it in between running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Please be patient with me! I will not tolerate "whEreS PaRt Two?¿??" when I literally just told you. Hope y'all enjoy one of the many products of my brain rot. More to come in due time ✨

Not beta'd. Written on my phone and edited via gdocs. Post formatted on mobile because I don't wanna use my work computer lmao

Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️

My AO3 | My Masterlist

Read this fic HERE on AO3

❤️ Reblogs and comments are appreciated, as always ❤️

PART ONE | PART TWO

The abs are great. More than great, actually. In fact, they're all Wade thinks, dreams, and fantasizes about. All day, everyday, non-fucking-stop. The moment replays over and over in his fucked up noodle brain like a scratched record. He knows muscle memory is a thing, but what about salivatory memory?

Christ. He's gotta get a grip instead of getting hard.

But what about when Logan isn't flexing hard enough to rip his goddamn suit off?

Wade notices Logan becoming more relaxed around the apartment as the days pass. Adjusting to his new life, coming out of the bedroom earlier than he has to on days when he gets a turn to sleep on a real bed. It's Sofa City most of the time– which he really doesn't mind, he almost prefers it most of the time (since it's in clear sight of the front door) but Wade more often than not likes to insist they share his 'much-too-big-for-lil-old-me' twin XL mattress that's seen more stains than sex in the last year alone.

Logan's compromise is he'll take the bed and Wade the couch half the time. Alone. They're still working on the negotiations of said compromise, but the jury– Blind Al– is still out on recess.

Once he's more settled in, Logan learns that it's okay to kick off his boots and put his feet up. It's not often, but enough that Wade silently wishes he'd rest those big meaty calves on his lap instead. He's been needing a new weighted blanket and Adamantium-coated tibias and hairy legs are so in right now.

Logan doesn't know it, but Wade secretly plays 'ohmygodhetotallylookedatme' whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of Wade oggling at him in his peripherals. Wade can't help it when Broody and the Beast's ribbed white muscle shirt pulls taut against those deliciously plump pecs that he silently prays it'll burst off again. Or he'll rip it off. Or Logan will rip it off. For him.

A boy can dream.

It's especially hard to win at 'OMGHTLAM' when Logan accessorizes– AKA throwing on whatever flannel is in rotation out of the several he finds at the thrift store a few blocks over. Wade feels his throat tighten like his jeans do when Logan wears the forest green one. Really brings out his eyes.

And smile. And lips. And–

It's still summer, so on the hotter days, when sweat glistens on his brow and Wade desperately wishes to be the back of Logan's hand, the tank top comes off. All Logan's sweaty, gloriously muscular body has on is a wonderfully worn-in pair of jeans with the hem of black briefs poking out behind the denim waist.

Do they have AC? Yes. Because Wade would have to plan a funeral for Al if they didn't.

But when she's out and about, he likes to turn it off and let the New York heat wave run its course. Sure, it leaves him sticky and gross, but he'd rather be sticky and gross and hard when he can help it.

Luckily, Blind Al is gone for the whole weekend. Some girls trip or a drug mule job. Same difference.

Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

With the push of a button and a sprinkle of patience, Logan is splayed out on the couch in a matter of hours with a lukewarm beer in hand while fighting his eyelids from dozing off to some random war documentary. Sweat beads on his temples and there's a slight sheen to his skin from his biceps to the lower V pointing down to between his thighs. He chuckles every so often, mumbling things to himself between swigs of beer and shaking his head when the narrator gets something 'wrong.'

Wade busies himself in the kitchen but his eyes are permanently glued to his roommate. He doesn’t miss the way Logan's stomach rises and falls gently, the rock-hard six pack softening into rolling hills of muscle with a layer of dark hair covering as much surface area as immortal-like hormones will allow. Grown out beard, chops, and messy hair really throw the whole look together; very 2000s, if you ask Wade. His pecs look just as soft as a pair of titties, if not softer, and Wade knows it. He'd do anything to lay his perfect little head on Logan's chest. Maybe lick it too, if he's a good boy. 

Logan perks up suddenly from the couch.

Oh God did he say that out loud?

"Wade?"

Wade doesn't hear him. Can't hear him. Half-refuses to hear him, honestly. Daydreaming takes up a whole lotta brain power and this show isn't running itself. Economy, budget cuts, unprecedented times. You know the shtick. 

"Wade."

Nothing but a bead of drool comes out of Wade's mouth. 

Suddenly, there's a crash right behind Wade's head and now he's awake. He whips around to the ale-spattered wall behind him and back to Logan, who's now standing with claws drawn and chest heaving.

Wade swears he's blushing. 

Eyes wide and brow standing up straight like his good little soldier, Wade looks down at the counter before him to find a bloodbath of a scene: one hand's on a knife while the other spews blood all over the yellowed counter tops; there's remnants of a carrot that was finished five minutes ago, followed directly by remnants of fingers cut down to the last fucking knuckle and slice marks beginning down the back of his hand.

Wade holds up his spurting stump, gashed artery doing a spot-on impression of Ol' fucking Faithful.

"Oh. Huh. Thought I smelled something," he says, staring at his now-tingling hand. Baby fingers for the rest of the night were so worth the staring contest with Logan's beautiful body.

"Fuckin' idiot," Logan mutters, sheathing his claws and striding over to the hall closet to grab a towel. Wade's already stopped bleeding, but just because they might be immune to bloodborne pathogens doesn't mean Al is.

"Gah– get back, damn mutt." Logan shoos Dogpool out of the kitchen to prevent her from lapping up her papa's bodily fluids. He throws the towel in Wade's face and goes to grab the bleach out of the cupboard under the sink. Logan learned very quickly where to find it the first time this happened a month or two ago.

"Sorry baby, Mommy's got a boo-boo and Daddy's just trying to help," Wade coos at Dogpool. "You're too good to me, peanut. Someone oughta wife ya up before I do."

Logan responds with a scowl as he tosses the carrots out and tries to keep the counter from staining. "Why th'fuck did you do that?"

"It was time for a new hand. Old one was so last season."

Wade mops up the blood from his arm and wraps the towel onto his head like he's just gotten out of the shower. Holding up his regenerating stump, he poses like a cover model for Vogue.

"Whatcha think, peanut?" He strikes another pose. "Is this doing anything for ya, big boy?"

Logan grunts as he tosses a wad of paper towels into the trash can. He turns to leave the kitchen, eyes flicking to Wade. It's the quickest once over ever, but Wade sees it. Commits it to memory while he pulls a Flashdance in a chair from the kitchen table and follows Logan's denim-clad ass as it sways off to the bathroom. 

"'M gonna go shower. Don't wait up,” Logan calls before shutting the door and locking it. 

Sighing, Wade looks down at his crotch, pants tent pitched higher and tighter than a first-timer on Everest.

Good thing he's ambidextrous.

[14dayswithyou]

💖 Slight 14DWY + Blog Changes! 💖

(16/12/23)

Leon will now move away from Corland Bay when he’s 10 years old. Originally, I never really put that much thought into it because it won't be explicitly mentioned in the game, but I figured I might as well make it more accurate now ^^;

Teo is now 26 (instead of 27). Again, zero thought went into this aside from wanting a wider range of ages for the cast — but now I want him to be closer to Jae and Violet’s age — especially considering they were all childhood friends and Violet was in the grade below them.

Elanor is now 30 and Kiara is 29. In the 2017 version, Elanor was originally the eldest sister, but it just didn't feel right to change it in the 2020 version. Day 3 will still be lore accurate, but everything on this blog will need to be retconned.

14DWY Purple (unofficial) will now be changing from #A14BF4 to #9D64FD.

Not a change, but adding more clarification: Angel will still attend university (and Jae and Teo will still be their university friend), but whether or not they enrolled will remain ambiguous! Day 1/2 kinda insinuates that they studied something ("Teo attended some of their classes"), but I wanted it to imply that they could've attended orientation and/or took "mock classes" after high school to see what it's like as well. I may change a few lines in the demo (in the future) to reflect that.

Egg

I'd like to (hopefully) try to remind everyone that whenever I write about Angel on this blog, they are gender neutral. Because if my ass had a dollar for every time someone assumed they were female because of the cutesy/pink themes or how "soft" I made the MC, I'd have enough money to fund voice actors, translators, custom soundtrack, and pay the $100 Steam fee /hj

Changed the crackpot theory tag into an actual tag!! About time sdghjdg

(07/01/24)

Also not a change, but to solidify Haruko's appearance + Ren's likeness a bit more... Haruko is supposed to be an anime character with pink/blue hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. He's a modern day "sorcerer" (a reference to JJK, not a literal fantasy wizard lmao) from an anime called "Attack on Giants" (another reference to "Attack on Titan"); and is very kind, ditzy, and empathetic. All Ren has copied is his hairstyle, vibe, and demeanour. Ren isn't outright cosplaying Haruko, and it'd take an avid anime enjoyer to notice that Ren is attempting to mimic Haruko.

I'll make a poll one day, but I might change Ren's left sleeve tattoo to the spoiler-free placeholder I used in this artwork. A lot of people seem to prefer it, but I'll wait until the poll to make any final decisions.

I might also make another poll to see if perhaps a new BGM theme would better suit the demo. Because in my mind, the "summer/beach location" = acoustic guitar (rather than piano) — and for some reason I get lo-fi vibes from 14DWY??

I don't think anyone has picked up on this subtle shift yet, but Ren will mainly use "he/him" over "he/they" now (since Haruko is a he/him enjoyer 👍). [REDACTED], however, will still greatly prefer "they/he", and will continue to use them interchangeably.

21/02/24 — or search through Obsidian. (Future Sai here.... I have no clue what this means???? What??? T_T)

I'm gonna cut down on the Teo and Ren bullying on this blog (and in general). I don't find it fun anymore, and it genuinely upsets me when people put down certain characters to make others look better (i.e. "Ren has no ass which makes Leon superior >:)" Just say you like Leon... I beg T_T). It also makes me doubt whether Ren is genuinely a good character or not, and it's gross seeing y'all tear down people who genuinely enjoy Teo. Be kind.

(11/01/24)

Eventually, I'd like to turn this meme into an event in the 14DWY Discord to help create an actual landlord for Day 3. The current landlord has always been a meme-y placeholder (I thought the idea would be funny), but looking at how the game is currently, I want 14DWY to be more "serious". The current landlord will eventually be turned into an easter egg!!

Whether or not Jae had bottom surgery will now remain ambiguous. Everyone is now free to headcanon whatever they'd like, so long as it's not offensive or too OOC.

From now on, I'll also try my best to remind everyone that Jae is gay and Kiara is lesbian. I tried not to bring it up frequently because I was afraid it'd come across like "being gay" was their only defining personality trait, but I'm tired of people sending in asks that don't apply to these characters ^^;

I might move all of the curiouscat questions to this blog and archive the account. It's becoming too much of a hassle for me to manage 3+ social media accounts sgkshjj

[weirdsht]

cale with an s/o that's mothers so hard (coos at the averaging 9 year olds, bakes/cooks for the knights, plays and trains with the wolf children) – absolutely soft for kids, loves cuddling the children and cooking for them^^

Biased Concern - Cale/Reader

notes: I combined 2 asks because the premise was similar

tags: fluff, no gender specified for reader, novel spoilers (war)

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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another anon said: omg!! regarding the small preview you posted,, like there's the part in the novel where on and hong are in the eastern part with Ron and Beacorx while Cale has 3 days to live and smth smth + Raon going through his first growth phase (I don't really remember) so his s/o is in despair bc of the situation and they're like– ONE OF MY BABIES IS SICK AND ONE IS DYING AND THE OTHER 2 I DONT EVEN KNIW WHAT THEYRE DOING WAHHH 😔😔 that's all bye ✊️

Things are hectic. War is ongoing. Everyone is on their toes. Commander Cale Henituse is nowhere to be seen. Roan Kingdom’s Crown Prince Alberu Crossman is in a state of shock.

In short, things are chaotic.

However, it doesn’t look like that on the outside as most don’t have an idea what’s going on. Only very trusted people know just how everything is on the verge of being in shambles.

“I’m sure you were shocked your highness. Please forgive him. He has this terrible habit of throwing fast ones at random times.”

That was the first thing you said to Alberu as you entered his tent. The golden-haired man was already busy as it was. Now he has to cover and fill up Cale’s missing presence.

“I think I’m getting used to it now.”

You let out a short laugh at his response. Alberu said it with a nonchalant tone however his face conveys just how much of a headache Cale brings him. But it wouldn’t be Cale if he didn’t bring a headache.

“At least eat while you work your highness.”

Pushing the cart closer to where the crown prince is, you presented the foods cooked for today. On the plate, there’s a medium rare steak paired with some vegetables like asparagus, mashed potatoes, and others. It’s a simple meal, but it has all the nutrients and protein one would need. 

“Did you help cook this? You were fighting earlier you should’ve just rested.”

“It's not a bother at all Your Highness. Seeing everyone energetic is enough to make me energized as well.”

You smiled at Alberu as he started eating. Humming in approval at your cooking.

“When are you going to visit Cale?”

Alberu stopped eating for a second to ask you a second. You stayed silent at his question, deeply pondering about it.

On one hand, you wanted to visit him and check how the children and he is doing. On the other hand, you are still needed in the Gorge of Death. Especially since the others are gone. Your complicated thoughts did not go unnoticed by the quarter elf. He can easily tell just how worried you are for your significant other but also thinking of your responsibilities.

“Just go.”

“But Your Highness as Cale’s Deputy Commander–”

“Are you going against the word of the crown?”

That made you shut up. However, you were still hesitant. Cale’s absence already puts so much on Alberu’s plate. His responsibilities will overflow if you go away too.

“It’ll be fine. Just make sure to come back quickly. While you’re at it tell that punk to get well fast too.”

Alberu waved his hands. Telling you to go now, leaving no room for argument.

“I… Thank you, your highness.”

Soon enough you are inside Hope and Adventure Loving Inn. Specifically, you were inside Beacrox’s kitchen making sweet treats for everyone.

Just outside the kitchen the staff, the previous mountain bandits, are whispering among themselves. They’ve never seen anyone freely enter the chef’s territory so this is a shock for everyone.

“Thanks for letting me bake Beacrox! Take this portion and share it among yourself and the other staff.”

You smiled at the tall man with him only responding with a bow of gratitude. As you go out of the kitchen you see everyone acting a bit weird. It was so obvious they were trying to look busy while eavesdropping. One of them was even feather-dusting another employee’s face.

“You’re here nya!”

“We missed you nya!”

On and Hong greeted you respectively as Ron guided you upstairs. Indeed, you haven’t seen them since the opening of the inn. You said you were going to visit but things got delayed because of everything that happened.

“I missed you too. Now go share this among yourselves. Make sure to leave some for your youngest brother.”

You hugged the two for a bit before asking Ron to show you where Cale was. As he showed you the way you reluctantly let the two children go. Promising to play with them more later.

“I must warn you. The sight inside is unsightly.”

The servant warned you before opening the door. Sure enough, it was. The first thing that caught your attention was the foul stench of blood.

Speaking of blood, Cale was super bloody. He keeps vomiting blood like a water pipe with a leak.

“Oh my…”

You unconsciously said. The two heads lying on the bed turn to you. With Raon’s expression brightening up.

“You visited!”

“Well, I did promise to visit your siblings.”

Smiling, you welcomed the toddler into a warm embrace. Behind you, Ron excused himself to give the three of you privacy.

Cough!

A certain redhead deliberately coughed out blood louder than before. Clearly unsatisfied at you saying that you came to visit the children.

“Of course, I came to visit you too.”

You laughed, walking towards the bed to give your significant other a kiss on the forehead. The bed dips as you sit down on it, with Raon still in your arms.

“I take it that you successfully got the water ancient power? All this blood must be from your plate fixing itself then.”

One of your hands was stroking Cale’s hand while the other one fed Raon the singular cookie you had brought with you inside the room.

Cale’s eyes looked at you. Probably examining if you were hurt somewhere while being away from him. He then frowned as he saw you feeding the chubby dragon. Your gaze travels to where he seems to be looking and the jealousy makes you laugh.

“Yes, I made it. Yes, there’s still some left. Yes, I already prepared some greasy food to cook so you eat later after you’re well. No, I will not stop feeding Raon. Don’t be greedy, you already have most of my attention.”

The commander’s frown etched deeper in his face as you said the last part. His gaze seems to be asking you if you’re really concerned about his well-being.

“Of course I am.”

You chuckled.

“I wouldn’t left the Gorge of Death if I wasn’t silly.”

Pushing his hair back a little, you gave his forehead another kiss. Reassuring him that you didn’t just go for the children.

Later on, when Cale was feeling much better he asked you if you only got together with him so that the kids would favour you.

“Silly man, I don’t need to be with you for the kids to love me.”

“That’s right nya!”

“Certainly nya.”

“I’ll like my human’s human even if you aren’t together!”

The defeated Cale could only click his tongue in annoyance.

[astraariel]

scarlett love

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: you forgot him, chose to let Sanji go, but was that enough? would the universe leave you alone and let you live in peace?

word count: 4.1K

warnings: cursing; spoilers (?) just mention of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: angst; fluff; hanahaki disease; modern!au; reconciliation; second chances; unrequited turned requited; slight self-hate; happy endings

author’s note: okkkkay here it is. so many of you guys asked for it so here’s pt 2 to eternal snow! I initially wanted to post the mihawk fic first that i'm working on but I can’t finish writing it for the life of me so I decided to work on this one instead lol.

like I mentioned before, this is part 2 to this fic so obvi read that before you read this one!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

They say people who have the surgery are doomed for life.

How could they choose to never love again; how could they deliberately go through with the surgery knowing they would never have those emotions again?

But in actuality, it was the choice of forgetting about that love. 

People don’t know the grievances and the strength it takes to choose to forget the love of your life. They don’t know the despair of being in love with someone wholeheartedly knowing they don’t love you back.

That you would never remember those emotions for whom you loved. 

You saw it as this: if you couldn’t live to love your person, you wouldn’t bear to love at all.

So in that way, you won.

You gained the power to no longer grieve for your love because you simply couldn’t remember him.

Since hanahaki disease was rare, there weren’t too many recovery patients to base knowledge on since many of the victims chose to die rather than to be saved. 

So you were honestly going in blind.

Nami would sometimes ask you if you could remember anything, a nervous look on her face, you knew she remembered your past love, but the doctor had told her to not mention anything to you in your recovery period. You think she asked out of curiosity.

Or maybe fear?

But every time you’d just tell her that you couldn’t, your head would hurt if you thought too hard and too long about who you had lost.

If you could remember specific memories, they weren't fully visualized, they were static, like when an old TV was out of range from the signal and would struggle to picture the channel.

All you could remember was his silhouette, his figure blurry and his name was always on the tip of your tongue but you could never place your finger on it. 

You remember during your first check-up, the doctor had asked you if you could describe your past love, 

“I'm not sure.” 

Your voice had been wobbly like you were on the verge of crying. Tears had pricked your eyes, along with the feeling of not being able to breathe even though those damn flowers were gone. 

Not being able to understand why?

That feeling went away a week later.

You laugh at yourself now, chiding yourself for being ridiculous back then. 

At what point could you have allowed yourself to be so deeply in love with someone that it was killing you? You could never understand. 

It was an absurd, abysmal idea that you had ever gotten to that point.

While the doctor said the following months would be difficult getting used to your new life of having one less emotion, you were fine.

It had helped that Nami had stayed by your side, and when she couldn’t Sanji would.

Sanji was an angel. 

He tended to your every need, always made sure you didn’t lift a finger even after you told him multiple times you could do it yourself. 

But he always reassured you he didn’t mind.

You were sad to hear that he stopped seeing Pudding. It was honestly too bad because she was good for him, he deserves someone who can love and care for him just as much as he cares for others.

Nevertheless, you were glad he was here for you. 

The sound of music playing softly in the background comforts you as you shuffle through your kitchen making dinner. 

You and Sanji have recently started having weekly dinners with each other, an idea he came up with.

“We can update each other about our lives, good ole fashion face-to-face interaction.” 

“I don’t think my life is going to change too much in the week we don’t see each other, Sanji”

The sound of the door ringing pulls you from your thoughts, drying your hands with a towel, you walk over to the front door.

The cool November breeze greets you as soon as you open the door, Sanji’s figure fills your view. 

The coat he’s wearing to protect himself from the wind encapsulates him in a way that makes you smile instinctively, you can see his red ears peeking from under his blond hair.

“Come in, come in, I was just finishing up dinner.”

“Oh, can I help you with anything else?” he offers while shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack beside the front door. “Or are you not allowing me into your kitchen again?” he smirks toward you.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “It’s my turn to make dinner, you cook for a living, it's my time to shine now, dude.” He chuckles and begins to set the table for the two of you. 

The warm food fills the plate in your hand, placing it on the counter, you grab another plate. “So, how’s work?”

Sanji grabs both of the plates and brings them to the table, setting them down, he looks back at you. “Ah, the old man’s got me working late most days.”

You smile softly at the scene; since you can remember you and Sanji have been able to work in tandem. Back when Nami first introduced you, it was like a pull connecting the two of you, also guiding and leading the two of you in perfect harmony.

It was nice.

Finishing your dinner, Sanji grabs his cup, “That was delicious, thank you.” 

“Well I did have a decent teacher,” you say into the glass smiling, gulping down the liquid you set it back down and look at Sanji.

He goes to say something before he’s interrupted by a cough.

Sanji turns his head and coughs into a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, he quickly wipes his mouth before looking back at you, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Shaking your head in acknowledgement you begin cleaning up the dinner table. 

“Oh I forgot, I bought flowers, they’re in the living room let me grab them real quick.” Sanji stands quickly.

Turning, you watch him walk away, not catching the lone petal falling out of his pocket.

♡‧₊˚

Vinsmoke Sanji has done a lot of things.

Some of which he regrets, but others he stands by, but there was one that met both criteria.

And that was you.

He was glad he met you, that he was able to spend time being with you, loving you, and knowing that you loved him back.

But he regrets hurting you. He regrets letting himself be temporarily infatuated with Pudding. Sanji had laughed in the face of fate, and in return, he got what he deserved.

His impending end.

The petals had shown up the day you went into the hospital.

While you were given a second chance at life, Sanji had just signed his away. 

He remembers the memory of Nami telling him what had happened. He had it permanently seared into his brain, never allowing himself to forget the moment. 

Her eyes were red, face hot with anger when she pulled up to his house.

“You absolute idiot.” He hadn’t even fully opened the door before she was swearing at him, cursing him to the ends of the earth over what he had done. “You did this. You caused that pain…if I hadn't found her…,” her hands had started punching his chest. 

“She would have been gone, all because of you.”

A part of Sanji died that day. 

So when he got the same disease you had, he knew he deserved it.

Wasn’t it only right that he got the same death sentence that almost took you away?

It was slow at first, from what Nami had told him about your situation, Sanji knew this was how it started. 

The first few weeks were bearable, he could go about his daily life without causing any suspicion. No one would ask if he was okay or anything, just simply being able to cough into a tissue and discard it quickly.

Then the blossoms came.

After one terrible night of constantly coughing up blood and flower blossoms, Sanji did some research. He knew the full blooms were next along with the finishing blow of the roots. It had only been a month since you had your surgery, and yet his hanahaki was a lot more accelerated in comparison to yours.

A month since he had realized he was deathly in love with you.

But he could bear this burden. Who was he to complain about his death trickling closer than it normally should? 

Sanji remembered the moment he realized his disease would finish him more swiftly, that he was faster along than he typically should be; whether it was because the universe knew you could never love him back or it was simply his punishment for what he did.

Probably both.

Even though he knew he could easily fix the problem, he didn't have the right to get a second chance.

How could he? 

How long did you spend hiding your condition away, not even when he had broken things off, before then? How long were you hurting because you knew he was lying when he said he loved you?

The gall he would have to have to go through with the surgery? 

Absolutely not.

But deep in his heart, he also couldn’t bring himself to forget you. He’d rather be a coward and a liar than choose a life undeserving of him.

He would rather die than forget you, to never be able to love you again would be death itself.

He hated himself for what he did to you. The insolence he had to hurt someone as caring as you, why did he take advantage of that?

He himself every day.

If he had to live with constantly coughing up blood and bending over the toilet puking up flower petals just for you to live your life? Yeah, he could do that. He could live with the pain of knowing that you would never love him back.

That you could never love him back.

It quite literally was in human nature that he would never be saved unless he did the surgery, since you couldn’t even love anyone anymore.

Sanji’s hand lifts his handkerchief up to his mouth, his body heaving with a hard cough of petals.

He sighs.

♡‧₊˚

The TV light shines on both you and Sanji’s forms as the movie comes to an end, the ending credits miniaturizing as the screen recommends a shitty Christmas movie that has the both of you turning to the other.

“That was an unnecessarily long movie.” Sanji’s comment makes you laugh.

“Right? God, it was dragging on for a really long time.” Shaking his head he stands up to place the popcorn bucket on the kitchen counter. 

You follow him holding the cups that held lemonade two hours ago. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.”

“Yeah, probably, oh wait-I bought something for you, meant to give it to you when we had dinner at your place but I forgot.” Sanji’s voice trails as he goes off to his bedroom. 

You stand there for a couple of minutes before checking the time, “Yo, Sanji, did’ya get lost?” laughing to yourself, you walk over into the bedroom. Your eyes immediately meet Sanji’s form hunched over on the ground.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to him. “Sanji, oh god, are you okay what’s wrong-”

You cut yourself off when you bend down to look at him, there you see a pool of blood on the hardwood floor, petals scattered around the scene with a full flower bloom sitting in his hands. 

“What?” you can’t breathe.

Sanji says your name but you don’t hear him, your brows knit together as you look up at him. “I don’t understand why are you coughing up petals?”

No? This couldn’t be happening.

Your heart breaks.

Who did Sanji love so dearly that he was cursed with the same disease that had you in its chokehold not long ago? 

You would never wish this on anyone, no one deserved to live through the hurt of having unrequited love.

“You weren’t,” he wipes his mouth, “you weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I don’t-why wouldn't you want to tell me? If anything, I’d be the only person able to understand. Sanji, who is it?” your eyes scan his face. 

Sanji’s ragged breathing fills the air between the two of you. “I can’t.”

You furrow your brows even more, shaking your head. “Please just tell me so I can help-”

“You can’t.”

“What do you mean, I can’t? You’re not making sense.”

Sanji closes his eyes. “It’s you.”

You stop breathing, the figure in your memory rushes to the forefront of your brain like a tsunami. 

In the past the figure was always blurry, never in frame in your mind, only being able to trace his silhouette, but now it was different. 

It was like he was right in front of you like you could smell him, feel his hands in yours, his warmth. Feel his lips against your lips when he-

“It was you.” your voice was quiet, “You were the one I loved.” 

His eyes snap at yours, a gasp falling from his lips.

“The person I loved so deeply… that it caused me so much pain.”

And there it was, the fog had been lifted.

“How could I have forgotten?” How ironic the entire thing was.

“Why would I ever forget about my love for you, Sanji?” you look at him, “What grief did you cause me?”

A tidal wave of emotions, affections, all poured out of your soul and into your memories. The months of coughing up petal after petal till they turned to full flower blooms. The fear that a root would pop up once you pulled your tissue from your face. 

The pain and the hurt that Sanji had caused you. 

The pain of knowing that he didn't love you anymore.

It all came rushing back.

“Why would you keep this from me?” you were getting angry, but was it for the right reason?

Hadn’t you done the same with him? Hadn’t you kept it from all the people you loved as well?

“You know why I went through with the surgery? It wasn’t Nami who made me, well not partially, but why I allowed myself to let her drive me to the hospital was because I didn't want you to suffer.” your eyes were burning, the tears threatening to fall.

“I don't understand?” Of course, he wouldn’t.

“You were obviously unhappy, Sanji. If I removed myself from the equation, it would solve everything and at…at first I thought dying was the solution I really did.” your eyes drop, “And maybe Nami finding me was a saving grace but, I originally wasn't gonna do anything.” 

“Week after week, Sanji, I was drowning. I wanted to yell at anyone who would listen and ask why I couldn't have anything, why couldn’t I be happy? That the universe had some sort of fucking vendetta against me.”

“So I decided to let you go, to choose to live a life of unknown heartache, and when I finally thought I had accomplished that. The universe just spits in my face by cursing you.”

“Don’t you see it? We don’t belong together, Sanji.” The anger was gone now, all that was left was emptiness.“We have the signs, we need to heed them and move on.”

Sanji says your name with a plea, but you ignore him. “Just get the surgery, stop hurting the both of us.” 

“It does us no good if you're dead.” And with that, you walk out of the bedroom and out the front door.

♡‧₊˚

The quiet murmurs of the newscaster talking about the weather for the week could barely be heard from the running water you were using to wash the dishes. 

You haven't seen Sanji in a couple of weeks, not since he announced that you were the one whom he was in love with. 

And definitely not since you remembered he was the one whom you had loved before.

And while at first, you were angry. Angry at him for lying and keeping such vital information from you.

It later turned to guilt. 

Guilt for getting angry at him. Guilt for causing him pain.

But it wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you chose not to love him, you physically couldn’t anymore. You signed that ability off months ago.

But you also missed him. Since you weren’t talking to him, you weren’t having your weekly dinners or your impromptu movie nights anymore.

You missed just talking to him. You missed the lame jokes he’d tell in hopes of hearing your laugh, that smile he’d get whenever he spoke about a new recipe.

You missed him.

But you were also confused.

After he had revealed that he loved you and you had remembered that your past love was him, it became too much for you to handle.

Glancing at the moon, you dry your hands on a towel and walk into the living room. The weatherman was currently informing you of a chance of rain tomorrow during the already cold late January weather.

Sighing you go to sit down before something catches your eyes. A picture frame that hangs on your wall glints as you walk toward it.

It was a photo of you and Sanji looking at the camera with wide smiles on display from Sanji’s birthday two years prior. On top of your heads sat a birthday hat colored blue for the sea theme your friends had thrown together as a joke for the blonde that year.

You remember how you felt that day, the anxiety of wanting to get Sanji the perfect gift and when he finally opened it, he had hugged you which had you blushing like crazy while you swatted his “thank yous” away.

God, where did this deja vu come from?

It was weird, you weren't sure what it was.

It felt like your entire being was full. Full of intense and overwhelming emotions, an emotion you shouldn't feel. An emotion that was eradicated from your life when you stepped out of that hospital.

But here it was, rearing its big ugly face once again.

For Sanji.

You stumble back as if you had been shocked with electricity. 

Looking around your apartment you close your eyes.

How could this happen? Why were you still being punished again?

You had endured the pain, chose to get rid of it and now you’ve been having to live with knowing that Sanji also was experiencing the exact same pain.

Sanji.

How could you have been so cold? Telling him to do the surgery? What was wrong with you?

You missed him. You missed your love for him. The feelings you’d get when he’d look your way. Sanji was your ambrosia and you needed him to survive.

But you didn’t miss how you felt when he chose another over you. Those feelings you wished you hadn’t remembered.

You weren't sure how you were still able to feel Sanji's love. But here you were.

An anomaly that you were. 

Guess that shows how deep your love truly was rooted.

How could you have allowed yourself to forget?

The drive to Sanji’s apartment was quiet, opting to not play music or turn the radio on so that you could think clearly with your new (re) developed emotions.

Pulling up to the driveway, you step out of your car. The jacket you have on trapping your heat from the cold winds of the night. 

The few steps to the front door felt like a lifetime. The moonlight provided a little comfort to your restless self.

Exhaling, you bring your hand to knock at the door, a small part of you hoping Sanji wasn’t home so you could go home and pretend like nothing happened.

The door swings open revealing Sanji. His eyes were wide like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.

“Hey…can I come in?” you look up at him expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah come in.” Sending him a quick smile you walk past him and into the living room. 

He shuts the door and faces you, you turn and finally get a good look at him in the light. 

He looked worse for wear, his eyes had bags under them, a sign he hadn’t been sleeping if at all. Whether that was because of your argument or his condition, you didn't know. One hand was in his pocket and the other was fiddling with his handkerchief. 

“How are you…” signaling your hand at him, “I mean physically, how are you? What stage?”

He looks away, “well…I’m still living,” he chuckles quietly.

You sigh. 

God the two of you were truly messed up.

“It all came back.” 

“What?” he questions.

Your eyes begin to glaze over, “My memories, everything.” you wet your lips, “All of it, Sanji.”

“It just-all came back…on top of our argument, of you telling me you loved me.” Tears fell down your cheeks. “Of how I felt when you were-when you were with Pudding.”

He says your name.

“And I hated it, I hated remembering how I felt, Sanji. I remember pitying myself, wondering what I had done wrong, why you hadn’t loved me anymore,” he says your name again, “but I also remembered how I felt loving you.” you look up at him with your tear-streaked face.

“And I will never regret loving you, not then, definitely not now. I also don’t regret forgetting, because I understand why I did it. I loved you enough to be able to let you go. To be able to know you’ll live your life happily, whether that’s with me or someone else. I didn’t care. Just that you were happy.” 

“But I wasn’t-”

You cut him off, “I knew you didn't love me how I loved you, but I still knew you cared. So if I had died, even from death, I would have hated myself for hurting you. So I chose to forget.” you wipe your cheek, “I just wish you had never gotten that godforsaken thing as well.”

“Sanji I…I love you wholeheartedly. You encompass my entire existence. I live for you. Even now, when I didn't remember how I felt for you. It was there. My love for you was still inside. And it always will be. I think even if you hadn’t told me you loved me now, I would have remembered anyway. Simply because that’s who I am, I am my love for you, you consume my entire soul.” You probably looked like a mess.

“You look beautiful.” Did you say that out loud?

You smile softly, “So when you admitted that you loved me, that I was inadvertently hurting you, I couldn’t take it. I had been the monster I sought to eliminate. So I pushed you away.” you sigh, “I pushed you away because I didn't want to go through the same pain again. I was selfish if you had just done the surgery, I'd be able to forget about this again and you wouldn't even remember.” you walk toward Sanji. “I’ve learned that I can’t run away from you anymore. And I’ve realized that I don’t want to lose you again.” 

“So let me save you.”

Sanji’s face was red, his eyes were blurry with tears, his fist clenching his handkerchief filled with petals and blooms.

“I’m so sorry.” Sanji’s voice trembles, “I am so sorry, I caused you so much pain, if I could take it back I would. And I don’t even deserve you, I’m not worthy of your love, but if you allow me, let me make it up.” 

You close the gap between the two of you and pull his lips toward your own. They’re slightly chapped and both of your guy’s faces are wet but you don’t care. You feel his fingers carding through your hair, pulling you deeper. 

This kiss was different from any others before, this one was filled with desire and want but it was also filled with joy and love.

You were finally happy.

You pull away first, breathing heavily and your face flushed, “You already are.” 

“I love you so much, please never forget.” you wipe a stray tear, cradling his face. 

You want to commit this memory in your brain. No more forgetting, no more letting go. To make sure that for the night, no cough was to be heard, no petal was to be hidden, 

just two lovers finally with one another, forever.

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 2 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: i can't tell you all how i excited i am to get this fic going! thank you for the lovely comments on the first chapter, i promise there is a lot of cool stuff to come!

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 2 - The Patrol

‘Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.’  - Richard Silken, The Worm King’s Lullaby

There is a thin sheet of ice covering the streams that are heading downwards. It crunches under the hooves of their horses that dutifully carry them up the hill and past the gas station. Joel is glad that it's Tommy next to him. He's more tense than he's felt in ages, a gnawing feeling in his stomach that has little to do with the skipped breakfast and a lot with the worry that is etched into the frown between his brows. He wouldn't want anyone to see him like this, much less try and calm him down, something he knows is a lost battle.

“They might be fine, Joel,” his younger brother says gently, just loud enough for him to hear. Tommy thinks there will be no response until one comes, a little too late for it to not be premeditated.

“She talked about leaving, sometimes. They would be stupid enough to run off-”

“And leave Jackson?” Tommy raises a brow. “Maria said their house looked normal, all their things still in place. They wouldn't be stupid enough to leave all that behind.”

Joel doesn't want to hear it. He knows, better than anyone. Knows that you wouldn't just leave, not without saying goodbye to the children you'd come to care about so much. Would you leave him without a goodbye?

He almost hopes you would. Because if you didn't leave willingly, what was the alternative? It would've been nearly impossible for someone to take you from inside Jackson with no one noticing. But he can't shake the feeling that something is off.

It’s Tommy who has to keep reminding him to ride slow, to keep an eye on the ground for possible tracks. Joel just wants to go, to spur Old Beardy on until they're galloping up the hill, despite not knowing where it is he needs to go. He just wants to find you. Preferably in one piece, happy and healthy. 

He would’ve missed it.

The small footprints leading off the road and onto a smaller path, one that's twisting through pines and further into the woods. 

Tommy nods. “Pretty sure ‘tis the one that leads to the hunting cabin.”

It only takes a few minutes for them to be sure. The wooden cabin is hidden away behind a few trees, difficult to spot if you don't know where to look. It doesn't really serve any purpose, at least not anymore. The roof at the back caved in years ago, allowing rain and plants alike to enter the dimly lit room. It’s less than five miles from the gate of Jackson, tucked away from the main road.

He can’t help but think that this would be the perfect place to run off to. Or to hide a body.

Joel is off his horse in a second, not even bothering to tie the stallion's halter to the wooden posts in front of the cabin. Without thinking, he tugs his revolver out of his waistband, using his foot to nudge the door open.

He smells it before his eyes even have a chance to adjust to the dim light. The unmistakable stench of blood. And mixed with it, creating an odor that immediately makes him sick to his stomach, the smell of gunpowder in the air.

***

The sun has been slowly rising while you’ve been flipping through the pages, trying to find the volumes you’re looking for. The library of Jackson, though rather small, has been frequented more and more, especially in the winter months when the weather doesn’t always allow activities outside and people resort to what they’ve always known: Books.

The entire place is supposed to be relocated soon, to a small store on main street. But compared to the greenhouses needing repairs and the stables being expanded, books don't seem to be a priority for most of the townsfolk.

“Books can’t feed us or keep us safe,” Maria pointed out when you brought the slow progress up to her. You politely disagree. You feel like you could live off books for the rest of your life.

Still, packing up everything means the old place, a shed tucked away behind the church, is currently a mess. Sagging bookshelves, a leaky roof and too many books for too little space means chaos. One that only few bother to navigate in its current state. You among them.

It was the crack of dawn when you slipped out of the house, deciding to let Lane sleep in while you walked through the still empty streets to the far end of the town, hoping to get the library work out of the way before the first lesson of the day.

Maria is the one that finds you, making your head peek up from between two shelves with a frown. “You changed your mind on those books?”

She gives a small laugh, one that sounds oddly like relief. Then her face becomes stern again, the look she carries much more often. “You two have some explaining to do, do you realize that?”

Now it's your turn to frown. “We two?” She pauses at that, looking around the small room. But there is no one here but you and her and the characters bleeding from the pages.

“Is Lane not with you?”

You shake your head, turning your attention back to the book in your hands. “She has the 8AM class today.” 

“She's not there,” Maria curtly responds. You can tell she's trying to keep her voice steady but there is a hint of anxiety regardless. 

“Then she overslept again,” you half guess-half ask, closing the book again.

“She's not at home either.”

An odd feeling crawls over your body. You can't remember what was in your hands a moment ago, but the question is forgotten in an instant. Maria carefully watches as you step out from between the shelves, her tone still gentle. “I've sent Tommy and Joel out to search. We thought you two snuck out.”

You feel numb as you shake your head. “No, I- I didn't see her this morning. I thought she was still asleep.” You rack your brain for the memories of this morning, of last night, of the last week even. But nothing comes to mind, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I was out late last night, finishing up some paperwork,” you mutter, more to yourself than the woman in front of you, retracing your steps in your mind. “Lane got home before me, I had dinner, we talked about blueberries-”

“Blueberries?” Maria asks, her hand already back on the doorknob. She seems restless and it's that fleeting detail that worries you more than anything. Maria stays in control. Always. 

“Yeah, we- It doesn't matter. I don't know where she is,” you finish lamely, getting up and joining her at the door. But she hasn't moved yet.

“You should stay at home. I'm sure she'll show up again soon and if she comes back to your place, someone should be there.” You nod but your mind is already drifting again. Lane’s been doing fine, good. So have you, really. Maria gently reaches for your shoulder, steering you out of the shed and towards the church, down the street that leads to the center of Jackson. 

You're passing the small graveyard that's protected by brick walls, the stones already withered, pale in contrast to the dark metal fence running along on top. The gate is ajar, but you barely pay it any attention as the information settles in your brain. It takes a few seconds for it to reach your mouth and leave your lips.

“She went out a few times.” 

“Out?” Maria enquires, raising an eyebrow as her attention shifts back to you.

“I thought she'd met someone. Cat and her were pretty close and I figured-” You give a small shrug. It's more than uncomfortable, suddenly, and absurd, that you're discussing Lane's private life so openly, with Maria of all people.

“Don't tell her I said that,” you add quickly. 

Maria nods as you reach the end of the brick wall. “I won't. I'll get back to the city hall and see if there’s any news yet. You go home.”

Your head nods as if on its own accord. Maria has already turned her back towards you when you pipe up. “Maria?” 

She pauses, her back straightening a bit. “Yes?”

“You don't think anything happened to Lane, do you?” 

The older woman shakes her head softly. “No. I'm sure she's fine. Now get home. Maybe she's already there.”

And she hurries off, leaving you at the corner of the street with a trembling body and a heavy feeling in your stomach. For a fleeting moment, you allow your thoughts to wander past the point you've been dreading to consider. What if something has happened? If Lane did sneak out, maybe with Cat, maybe alone, and got into some sort of situation? What if she's hurt?

The sky has turned from pink to a light blue, only a few clouds piling around the mountains on the horizon. You glance down at your hands, shaking ever so slightly. You decide to blame it on the cold. The cold that may be getting to your head as well. Because after a few moments, you turn on your heels, heading for the stables. It's only a few rows of houses until the large wooden wall looms in front of you, blocking out the little sunlight you could get in the morning. The wall that protects you from what lies beyond. Infected and Raiders and maybe, you think, as you slip into the stables, maybe answers.

if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing and commenting, every single notif on this fic makes my heart swell with love <3

[cryptidcorners]

Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: Friendly Nostalgia

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights At Freddie's

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: The aftermath of Mike's job as a security guard had got him thinking, as well as tripled his internal hardships. In an attempt to cool his troubling mind, Mike decides to go into his old library to find one of his favorite literatures, and maybe a new friend along the way.

= Request: "Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Small Angst? Librarian Reader + Setting, Shy Mike, Sweet Talk, One-Shot, Platonic (with Slight Romantic Implications? It's up for you to decide !) + Reader is !Fem

= Warnings: Childhood Trauma + Kidnapping Mentions, Child Death/Spirits, Struggles with Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Stress) + FNAF Movie Spoilers !

Morning birds flocked through the featherweighted clouds thinning across the fresh sky. A chilled exhale rattled out of Mike's throat, the cold dawning air nipping at his skin. His head was foggy with exhaustion, yet flickering with soft excitement. The streets were empty, much to his content. Crowded boulevards and sputtering car exhaust muddied his senses, he hated it more than anything.

He shoved his reddened hands down his pockets to shield the breezes from his fingertips. Mike hated the overwhelming traits of the outside world even more after his accursed job as a solo-unit of security. The crumbled children in the machines, Vanessa wilting away within her hospital bed and William. It was too much and he couldn't handle it.

This whole mess was the reason he was heading towards his local library, one he hadn't stepped in the years. It was the only place he was comfortable visiting now. It was quiet, no people to talk to, and he'd be able to pluck out his favorite contents in peace.

Mike had been particularly fixated on Sherlock Holmes, lately. The whole idea of mysteries had made him want to learn more, even after being injured at Freddie's. Weirdly enough, after scavenging through his old contents, it unraveled more and more about what happened those dreaded nights ago.

Mike hummed quietly as he lazily pushed the glass door. The silence calmed his senses. There were a few locals, but they were buried between pages. After awkwardly exposing his card and being gently discarded to explore the aisles alone. He started trailing around the mystery section. He couldn't pick one story, so he was doing nothing but strolling.

"Do you need some help?" A voice peaked his shoulders for a flash. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, sir."

You apologized, your voice was soothed. Mike shook his head gently, "No, no. It's fine, don't worry."

A smile spreads across your lips and you read the aisle with an eager eye. "You like mystery?"

"I've just gotten into it, really." Mike slid his hands through his curls promptly. It was strange how comfortable he felt, it felt tender, weird enough. "It's a sweet genre. I like it when it keeps me guessing. Gets my mind off everything."

"Yeah. Fiction is a great outlet, that's why I became a librarian." You explained warmly, "It's something I've always dreamed of."

Mike released a breathy chuckle in response, unsure how to reply.

You extended your hand towards the neatly rowed bookshelf, trailing your finger until you slipped out a rough looking cover. Your eyes wandered to him, "You like Sherlock Holmes?"

"He's actually the reason I'm here." Mike tilted his head lightly with a calmed grin. He had no idea why he felt so comfortable around some random librarian girl he had just met, but he had no internal reason to question it. "I have a few of his stories at my house, my little sister found them."

"That's adorable," you brushed your cheek. "Maybe you'd like this one. Personally, I think it's one of his most underrated works." You handed him the book, and his eyes flickered up and down in interest.

"Wow,"

"Cool right?"

Mike nodded.

"I don't think I've seen you before here, uh," You trailed off.

"Oh. Oh, sorry, I'm Mike. Mike Schmidt," He shook your hand softly. "I actually haven't been here in a long time."

You arched a brow, face still settled, "What made you come back?"

"Well, first off, Sherlock Holmes." He shook the book lightly with a low chuckle. "And, well, work. It's been hard, so, I thought I could read a bit to calm things down."

You curled down to pile some scattered books in your hand, "Well, I hope you come back again, Mike. Maybe we can talk about some more stories, outside of here of course. I get a bit loud with stories."

You both chuckled, "I'll come back. I could always use some more mystery." Mike had been clutching the book with eager hands, along with a fluttered expression. He hadn't connected with someone in quite a while. It felt refreshing.

"Well, I have to get back to work. Goodbye, Mike." You stirred back into the halls. Mike whispered in response. "Thank you,"

He wanted to talk more, but, he didn't want to hold you back. Mike's eyes flew down to the hard-leathered surface. He chewed his lip,

I should have asked her for her name . . .

And with that thought resting heavily in his mind, Mike left the library, with a giddy attitude and a little too many mystery books in his hands.

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

Are Merch Mimics capable of using assimilation offensively against humans, for self-defense and otherwise? Like, if someone tried to break a toy/game/etc they were inhabiting, could the Mimic instead pull them in?

To a degree, yeah. I should mention though that Victor isn't "in" the TV in any magical sense; spoiler alert: he's the controller Vance is holding! Hence, the eye on the controller reacting to the dialogue. The Victor on the screen is actualy a model he rigged for a homebrew game he coded the old fashioned way, which responds to whatever inputs the controller sends to the Wii.

He actually is an active member of the homebrew community, and loves to mess with electronics the old fashioned way. Almost no one on the forums knows he's a toy bird, but are impressed nonetheless with his little projects, various rail-shooter games, and weird obsession with snarky anthropomorphic birds.

Victor could technically "jump into a game" on a tv screen, but it'd be a bit of a weird process if he doesn't know how to mod the game, so it'd look more like a shitty greenscreen effect rather than anything coherent. He'd need to learn in real time how the game is coded, how to inject arbitrary code into the system while it's running, etc etc. He CAN do that because he's a fucking NERD, but it wouldn't be a quick process at all.

I should also mention, mimics have an inherent ability to create dreams, since they come about from processing the thoughts and ideas of humans. If a human bonds with a mimic, such that the mimic now knows how the human thinks, they can pull a (somewhat) willing human into the dream when the human sleeps. So to wrap this all up: what Victor could do for a game he understands inside and out is pull a human into a dream that happens to match whatever he himself experiences as currently going on in the game. Basically the ultimate VR experience, with the mimic as a middle-man. Which might be something that'll happen in the comic soon....!

So that all seems a bit convoluted, right? Here's even more worldbuilding about matter assimilation by mimics below the cut. Stop here if you don't want a headache.

The reason so many hoops would be needed to pull a human into a game world is that assimilation is much easier on inert, inanimate objects that are not currently "in use" by a thinking thing, or something that relies on constant electrical signals to function. This can be something with brainwaves, or some other kind of animation like a normal robot. A mimic can convert a CRT TV that's turned off somewhat easily, but a TV that's turned on, with particles of every kind constantly moving into and out of it, is much harder to convert.

This means that humans and biological creatures in general are also trickier to convert, though it can still happen if done gradually enough. Hence, Victor wouldn't be able to rapidly convert Vance in one fell swoop, it'd be a whole process. It's easier to just pull a human into a dream instead, and if a mimic understands a video game, or a story in a book really well, they can basically make the fictional world into an extremely lucid reality for whatever human tags along with them.

I often describe mimics as just "jojo stands if they were corporeal and could just get up and move around on their own with no user"; you know how in jojo stand battles or old stories about magic curses, if you break the curse or kill the stand before its effect becomes permanent, all of the damage is magically undone? Like if you kill Green Day, the mold stand, all of the molding just instantly stops?

Mimics who use their powers of assimilation offensively work similarly; they can project their influence to a certain range, and partially assimilate matter in that range. If you knock out or kill the mimic, however, everything reverts to normal. A human who doesn't want to get converted can basically just turn around and walk away most of the time, or shoot the mimic, so the mimic in question needs to pull off some trick to get the human to stay within range for the assimilation to fully stick. A human can still break free and get out of range even if fully converted, but it's much harder, as assimilation usually means the mimic gaining greater control over the converted object in question. The exact range and effect mimics have is again like jojo stand ranges; it varies.

Different mimics have different affinities for different things. Victor can assimilate cheap electronics fastest because he likes them and understands how they work (it's why he's a toy bird mp3 player). Az can assimilate guns, and turn ammo into weird anomalous ammo with weird effects. Zachary is a genius who can assimilate any matter, including biological matter, faster than anyone... but he's also extremely picky and hates the sight of blood, so he only uses assimilation on things he really, really likes.

If I could somehow make another read more at this point, I would. It's gonna get messy:

What a weird power and setup though, right? Why? The true nature of mimics is unknown to most of them, but the deepest lore is that the first mimics were constructs made by a people long ago, who first made them as highly advanced machines that'd recognize the thoughts of their masters to fulfill any practical desire. Need a road built? Done. Need a ship repaired? Done. With physical needs all met, the people began to turn inward, and use the mimics to illustrate their own artistic ideas. Eventually, the will and consciousness of these people were assimilated and inherited by mimics, who themselves became people. Mimics spread, altered themselves, duplicated, deviated, fused, split, and wandered around. Getting into recreational wars, manifesting horrors and delights into reality because they could.

Somehow, after the dust settled, the strongest mimics, the angels, decide to set their sights to the stars, and observe other lifeforms develop technology and their own art. Did mimics come to earth millions of years ago, and simply watched humans grow, evolving with them in-tandem? Or did humans make the first mimics, and somehow became undone and set back to the stone age? The answer to this mystery is currently known only to the oldest of mimics. Except Zachary. He's old, but didn't care to remember.

This is generally why mimics seem so compatible with humans; they were made by either them, or people who were, for whatever the reason, very much like them, flaws and all. The ability to assimilate is basically the conversion of matter into a more malleable state of information. A virtually magical power, but this was achieved not through prayers and spells, but a very human-like obsession with developing technology to the point of exerting control over molecules, then atoms, then the lowest planks of matter. The obsession with scaling every mountain and crossing through every valley. To rip the natural world apart, and hopefully, put it back together before it's too late. Angels seek to ensure humanity walks the right path there, but with human's own desires and intent honored, for better or worse.

To answer your question: yes. A mimic of Mario can pull you into the game and you can jump with him and eat shitty low poly spaghetti with him.

The process for doing that is just convoluted and complicated, and you need to get to know each other a bit first. If he tries to use it as an attack though, it either won't work, or it might just wind up giving you mild brain damage.

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Not story more ramble but I will still tag.

@egrets-not-regrets @bleedingichorhearts @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog @barn-anon

Spoilers for Warhammer Fulgrim Lore.

I think the husbandry fandom has missed a profound opportunity for some juicy conflict!

So we have some general agreed upon notions for how certain legions react to Husbandry Terra. Now obviously not all of a single space marine type behave the same way but there be trends.

Salamanders, Ultramarines, Blood Angels, Thousand Sons, Space Wolves, Imperial Fists: these groups generally accept bonds and human companionship as they had decent human contact in their original timeline.

Then you've got the grumps who love the attention but getting them to admit it is like Pulling Teeth: Night Lords, Iron Hands and Iron Warriors.

But we have been missing out! On a delightfully painful side of our favorite premadonnas. The Emperor's Children.

Now they and their sire Fulgrim are often stereotyped as such. Elegant, pompous, snooty and post heresy they go completely mask off a drive full into unbound freak territory.

But their story is much more tragic than a spoiled brat leading other spoiled brats into serving the God of overdoing things.

Fulgrim isn't spoken of as much in terms of being screwed over, but looking closer he really was.

Shot to an awful industrial planet where he watched his adopted family struggle to feed him let alone themselves. It would give anybody a complex.

Needing to be useful, needing to contribute, needing to not be a burden.

And once the The Big E showed up it didn't get much better.

His sons? Suffer a geneflaw that gives them astarte cancer. He not only loses many of them, but has to make due with what he has left. Meaning no matter how well trained, he just can't conquer planets at the rate dear old dad wants him to.

His brothers? Got there own issues and probably don't take Fulgrim's struggles seriously. He's just at that spot of "Wow that sucks," and "But the others have it worse.' He probably doesn't feel like he can talk deeply to anyone.

So Fulgrim does what many unloved children do, in fact he does the same thing as Perturabo, Pushes Himself to The Breaking Point.

In Fulgrim's case, any failures he blames completely on himself. Where Perty lashes out, Fulgrim turns inward.

Until he just can't take it anymore. He decides he's going to finally be selfish. Commit fully to the pleasures and pain so he never has to remember the agony he feels, that he will Never, be good enough

Heck killing Ferrus probably cemented that feeling in him. I'm not worth anything, so why bother trying to be good. Why not just be the absolute Worst.

Heavy stuff. But this leads me to my main musing.

In 40k the sins of the father very much affect the sons.

So my proposition is...you think other space marines are clingy? They hold not a Candle to an Emperor's Child. Especially one post heresy.

If you show an EC that they can be open, vulnerable, Imperfect, around you, and you don't immediately turn tail and run from the baggage, You Will Never Escape.

They don't just crave intimacy, they crave stability, affection, LOVE.

And if you give them any indication you'll supply it, they will Never let themselves be cut off.

[olderthannetfic]

I mean, I'd *like personally* if using CNTW meant something, as someone who genuinely does prefer to avoid the stuff covered in the archive warnings.... but I also understand the whole point is that it doesn't, and that in an archive you absolutely need a setting which just opts out of the need for warnings altogether.

They could be someone who puts that on every fic, because they don't feel like going through each of them like that, or because they ideologically oppose the idea of content warnings for whatever reason.

They could be someone who feels that putting specific warnings on it will spoil their fic, and they don't want to spoil. (I'm someone who doesn't care about spoilers ESPECIALLY with fanfic so I've always been a bit "eh" about this, but I get that I'm the minority here and also, it's the norm in original fiction. And I also get it's ultimately the author's discretion if they'd rather not spoil, and I respect that.)

They could mean that the person MIGHT include something that is warning-worthy later, but they aren't sure yet, so they're putting CNTW on there just in case because they feel putting on "No Archive Warnings Apply" and then changing it if they do decide to include character death/non-con/etc. later would be unfair to their readers.

They could mean that their use of something is borderline - for instance, underage sex alluded to, dubcon rather than noncon, violence they're not sure is graphic enough for the warning, etc. - and so they want to head off people who might be wary of that in any form/cover their asses, without drawing in people who are specifically looking for that element with false advertising. (This is how I often use them.)

They could be that they uploaded someone else's work with permission, but didn't specifically ask if they're okay with having warnings applied to their work.

It could be any of these things, and that's totally fine. The whole point is YOU DON'T KNOW. And if you click on a fic with that warning and it doesn't explain why it uses it, you're going in aware of that lack of knowledge and up for whatever version it is.

--

TBH, looking at my old stuff, I have a couple of cases where I barely remember the work and don't care to reread it. That's another common use, and it's really helpful for encouraging historical preservation. True, the CNTW means fewer people are clicking on these, but they're the kind of thing I'm including for completeness because I tell other people to do that.

I've also got some where I just got rid of the CNTW but I'm pretty sure it was on there because I was uploading in a hurry and meant to go think more deeply about tags later. Again, a "If I can't upload this in 2 seconds, I'm probably not getting around to it" issue.

Another one is for people who are very sure their dubcon is not noncon but who also know their fandom is full of douchebag antis who will constantly report them to AO3. If CNTW is on there, PAC will just tell the person reporting "Sorry, we're not even going to look at it", and the poster never gets contacted and bothered about this.

[reading-stains]

soukoku fics: recs and reviews

look, i really like fanfiction. and i've always felt people sometimes don't give good enough reasons to actually read a lot of it. if you scroll down enough, you'll see i did that too. so i thought i'd help out some people that don't know what to read tonight. you'll notice i took my reviewing seriously hgdsafvkhagsv i'll add more in my reblogs as i go on with this review style, but for now, here are three fanfics that pushed me to do this. fair warning, they're long ones.

A Lesson in Thorns by arkastadt

Word Count: 454,556

Tags: Arranged Marriage, BSD Beast!AU, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Character Death, Heavy Angst, Happy Ending, Ghosts, So Much Smut

Review:

As one of the longest fics I’ve ever read, it took me three days to read it, and a lot of lost sleep. A Lesson in Thorns is a journey that no one is truly prepared for. It’s surprising, I think, how one only notices the slow burn in the beginning, and forget they didn’t start out together in the end. So many things happen in the span of those fifty chapters, and so many feelings arise alongside their events. The reader watches Chuuya grow into himself, despite the haunting (hehe) that surrounds him by the end. Dazai becomes a man wishing to live, despite becoming a ghost of who he used to be. It’s quite magical, the way the story builds upon itself. What is usually some home, this piece makes an empire. 

This author appealed a lot to the wants and needs within these characters, making a paced build up to the challenges the characters face. Furthermore, there is a wonderful line of thought that is unwavering, consistent to the very end. The reader meets Chuuya getting ready to be married. A deal has been struck with the Port Mafia, and as the leader of the Sheep, Chuuya must marry their boss. A questionable and confusing task, but Chuuya has no more cards under his sleeve, and he has to save Shirase from the pending prison sentence. He walks into where he is to be married, looking to find a wrinkled, aging man. Instead, he faces the bandaged limbs and cunning eye of Dazai Osamu, and the story truly begins. 

The reader already knows it’s not a choice left for random that Dazai takes Chuuya under his wing. It���s already stated that on the first day in his position as the boss, right after killing Mori and sixteen months before he and Chuuya marry, he finds the redhead. A search that is broken down as the story unravels, and an effort that builds them and breaks them apart and puts them back together. 

This fanfic is clearly derived from a lot of the factors pointed in Bungou Stray Dogs’s BEAST light novel, which in my eyes makes it all the more interesting. I tried to give a short insight into the beginning with as much care as I could without creating any spoilers for the reading. I guess from me, all my notes just say it’s worth it. This fic really drags you through so many stages of feelings and excitements, and it builds off from them until you reach a new peak all over again. 

On Deathless Feet by AbsoluteNegation

Word Count: 71,848

Tags: Caretaking, Controlling Arahabaki, Canon-Divergence, Port Mafia and Post-Port Mafia, Smut

Review:

There are some stories that find themselves tucked into a hidden corner. It does not make them any less, and it does not make them any better, it just makes them quiet. Which in turn, when they are finally found, makes them all the more surprising. That is how I feel about On Deathless Feet, tucked in a corner of Ao3, and all incredibly surprising. 

Written with a nonlinear narrative, the reader meets the famed Double Black in different moments, recently met, in the middle of their rise through the ranks, at the brink of their end, after their disconnection with years of silence. AbsoluteNegation makes a wonderful story threaded in different moments, contextualizing their uncomfortable return to each other with interruptions back to their old lives before Dazai’s split from the Port Mafia. The author mainly focuses on Arahabaki, and Chuuya’s relationship with understanding the singularity as it slips out of control. Dazai is sent in to help counter it throughout their time together, and long stretches of contact are needed to get it down to normal. 

With a state of constant carataking, the two are thrusted into communion, needing to learn to accept living with each other for the time being. It isn’t a foreign feeling, seeing the other there, but at the end of the day it’s hard for the two with all that past. A past the author explores in detail just as much, not holding back on making it layered and pretty and very intense. They are creatures of passion, that’s what drives this ship and makes it so loved, and the author doesn’t shy away from building on it. Just as well, however, does the author place their own touch to their relationship, with the care and devotion the two also experiment between them. This fanfic is a welcomed balance to the rockier roads often explored surrounding these two. It never lacks sharpness, but it definitely warms the heart.

music for our funeral by itotypes

Word Count: 67,723

Tags: No Smut, Angst, 70s, Musicians!AU, Drug Abuse, References to Child Neglect, Songwriting, Artistic Lyricism

Review:

Music for our funeral by itotypes is a breathtaking composition, and there is not much like it. Set in the 70s, the author explores the surrounding setting of the rock genre, and writes a story of struggle and connection. Starting out with a run-away teenager, we meet Dazai’s lackluster perfection, the narrative often picturing him as a clinical artist. After leaving home, we watch him make himself something, and see him survive until he looks to live. Meanwhile, the other side of the piece plays with a striving perfectionist, and a reckless guitarist, in the form of Chuuya. The man comes from a struggling family (a stark contrast to the origins of his partner), and finds himself lost in the music. 

An interesting part of the story is that we get to know the characters before they meet. In a way, it allows the reader to explore the lives privy to the explosion, and before the pining and intensity that sparks between the two. One of the most appreciative factors that make this story one of my personal favorites is the usage of images throughout it. With beautiful lyrics exploring the essence of a character’s beliefs without them needing to admit it to themselves, there is a clear view into the conflicts and selfish needs that each character has. 

This author’s work is best described as an ode to music. It comes as a surprise at times, the way words fit together in reverence to this branch of artistry. Yet the fact that it’s done through another form of storytelling, through the use of words on a screen instead of notes on one’s ear, makes it all the more captivating. There is no question this is a must read. 

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Star-Crossed ||

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female reader

W/c 13.3k

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

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

If you enjoyed it, let me know!

Epilogue

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

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

And he was your big brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel giddy. "Oh Frankie…" 

"Now you have my heart, sugar."

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

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

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

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

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

"I've gotta go…"

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

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

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

"Frank!" 

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

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

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

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

~

"How was yer dancin'?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What? Who was it?" 

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright Matty, see you later."

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-fuck Frank- ohh god-!"

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

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

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

"W-what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

"A good night then, love?" 

"Oh Matty, it was just perfect!"

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

Oh no. 

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

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

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

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

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

They were going to fight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You wanna set rules?" Frank asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cried yourself to sleep.

~

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

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

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

"Oh honey!"

"You heard?"

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

"Yeah well, so did he…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Something stronger, Fog." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Foggy!"

~

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

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

"Better, asshole." he grumbles back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, he misses you.

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like hell. 

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

~

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's Wilson Fisk. The fucking Kingpin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Towards Frank.

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

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

Blood seeps from Frank's stomach onto the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What you said…"

"What?" Billy asked.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, he's gotta be alright."

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank rolls his eyes. "Papa…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It would be my pleasure, my dear."

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

"Da, I…"

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

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

"Is he… okay?" 

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

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

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

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

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

"Darlin, ye have no idea…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Matty won't be happy." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think I know a place."

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

"'The hell…?" Frank starts.

You found yourself getting to your feet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His expression is so honest it makes your heart burn.

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

He sighs with resignation and you squeeze his arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright lad? We did good, eh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gorgeous spot for my gorgeous girl."

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

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

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

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

"God, I just…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

Epilogue

[insomnyahhh]

tgck angst. pro hero ochako. spoilers(??)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I wish I could go back in time and change things; maybe I could be there for you when the world was against you. You were just a child who was wronged by society, but for now. You’ll just be a memory.

A piece of you is still present, Toga. I have a daughter; I named her after you. She’s sweet, cute, and full of life, just like you were once.

Sometimes she tags along when I’m visiting your grave. She looks so excited to see you two share a name. I tell her about you so she learns about kindness, something you needed as a child. I teach her about how you shouldn’t discriminate against those with scary quirks because they can’t control them. Your legacy is a lesson, sadly. I hope she follows those lessons and helps those who are like you, so history won't repeat itself.

If only you were alive to see how far i’ve come. I fantasize about raising her with you. how we’d watch her play as we sit outside, on our porch, sipping our tea and gossiping until the mosquitoes had enough of our blood. I think about how, if you were alive, we’d become pros together and open our own agency once we were old. We leave this place and spend the rest of our lives together in a beautiful cabin, away from the world, just us.

There isn't a day where I don't think about you, Toga. I still hate to admit it, but I was truly in love with you. It’s just sad how I found this out too late, when you were no longer with us but, wherever you are, I hope you are looking after us.

may we meet again someday, my cutest girl.

love, ochako.

[weirdsht]

Hi! Good day/evening to you. Would it be alright if we get more of yan!cale? 😽 I read ur yan!cale stories and I deeply stand by you.

Overboard

notes: i'm not experienced with writing yanderes and I couldn't think of a specific scenarios so i went with this a short fic instead. If you have any scenarios in mind feel free to send them and i'll do my best to deliver!

tags: subtle yandere cale (tbh you have to squint huhu), established relationship, vague novel spoilers

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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The clock strikes just after midnight. It was quiet as everyone had gone to their designated rooms to sleep.

Almost everyone that is.

Cale and Ron are still awake and talking. With the young master sitting on the couch and the servant standing up beside him as he reads the documents he has been given.

Usually, Cale would have been asleep long ago. At this time he would be cuddling with his significant other and the children averaging nine years old. In fact, he can hear the bed that’s just 10 steps away calling him already.

But alas he still has something to do.

“A viscount’s son huh? Where does he get the audacity to try and touch what’s mine?”

Ron stayed silent at his young master’s calm voice. Instead, he peeked at the document in Cale’s hand.

The document was something the servant had written himself. It consisted of every detail that happened when Cale’s significant other was away. Getting a much-needed vacation after being cooped up at the underground villa during the entirety of the war.

It consisted of places they went to. Things they bought. People they talked to. Even things they looked at for more than 30 seconds.

Every move they made was written in that document.

“Ron, everyone knows that the Henituse is a duchy now right?”

“Of course young master.”

“And everyone knows who my significant other is right?”

“Yes, young master. You are a famous figure in both continents, your significant other is bound to be known too.”

Usually, Cale would grimace at the thought of him being famous. But not right now.

“Then why would such a lowly noble like this trash here dare make a move on _____?”

“Some rabbits just don’t know the value of their lives, young master.”

Cale could feel his anger rising. However, he held it in. He can’t raise his voice right now. Not only was it late but _____ and the children were already asleep on the bed a few steps away from him.

Huuu

“I wanted for _____ to relax for once. The war was quite detrimental to their health.”

The young master sighed once more before fully calming down.

“You did a good job not letting that bastard go near them again after the 2nd time it happened.”

Ron flashed his usual benign smile at the compliment. Despite that, Cale could see in the old man’s eyes that he was not yet satisfied.

“Was _____ bothered that much?”

“Yes, young master. They felt distraught during the first two days of their vacation because of him.”

Ah, so that’s why Ron was still angry.

“Then I guess looting him dry won’t be enough. I’ll you handle the rest. Go do whatever will ease your heart. Just make sure to clean up afterwards.”

Molan’s last patriarch only bowed before going out of Cale’s room. The documents that Cale had been reading are in his hands, ready to be burned at the fireplace. Despite the lack of verbal response from the benign old man, Cale knows he will follow the orders given to him.

Which was why he could go back to bed with a lighter heart.

Meanwhile, the documents are now successfully fueling the fireplace of the villa. Ron watches the paper turn to ash. He oversees how the last thing that was burned was the description of the viscount’s son. Written below that was his offence.

His crime?

Trying to flirt with _____. Twice.

Even had the nerve to say a pickup line.

“Maybe I’ll let Choi Han handle him instead.”