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daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 4 months

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Keeping It Close To The Chest Pt 1

Edited 12/25/23 ~~ Here's Part Two ~~

Part Three Part Four

I devoured the Damian Wayne and Danny Fenton are Twins tags and had to make something of my own to add. This is my first fanfic I've decided to post. I'm much more familiar with the DP side of things but I gave it my best shot. Hope this brings joy anyway. If I decide to post this on A03 I will have it beta'd since I made this in like four parts and then wove them together so the flow may not always be there whoopps.. but for now I just wanted to share this with all you!

TW/CW: Medical experimentation and trauma, parental abuse/neglect, wound description, blood-ectoplasm and human, death (it's danny, he's the culprit lol will apply to Jason too if I add to this), body horror (to be safe), PTSD and flashbacks, childhood trauma and abuse, dehumanization

If I missed a tag/warning please let me know! I've never been an extensive tagger so i tried real hard to get everything, but I am human and could've missed something. Much love, stay safe.

~Ren

He had to keep moving. He could still hear their screams of rage ringing in his ears. Faster, he had to be faster. His blind panic had created an opportunity, a sliver of hope Danyal was determined to twist to his advantage. He was limping forward on uncertain legs. His vision swayed with the movement, and he fought to keep upright. His chest was on fire, Danny pressed his hands tightly to the wound there in a desperate attempt to keep his organs from spilling out like confetti. He kept his arms tucked close and rounded his shoulders to try and keep his torso still while he moved quickly through the empty streets of his once home. His chest was by far injured the worst, but he had paid no mind to the others. If he dared to stop, he would fully die.

Even in his human form, Danny just knows he's leaving a glowing blood trail behind him, the ectoplasm burning into the ground behind him. Whatever side of his transformation his body was currently showing it didn't matter, he was simultaneously both, always. The trail was evidence he transformed due to necessity, he became so durable after dying that it took a lot to hurt him. Danny risked a glance down and paled further. The green he spilled as Phantom mixed with red. A fucked up corrosive bread trail right to him. He was sure he truly was in deep shit. He just had to get to his go bag. Over time with his parent's inventions getting more dangerous the more Danny had to think about putting into motion The Great Escape.

Anything important he had always kept hidden, but Danny had taken everything out of his room once he had died the second time, and Danny was grateful for the convenience to be able to phase things into walls, floors, ceilings. It made his things pretty secure; no human could find it and any ghost that came through was too focused on their obsession or fighting him to go on a treasure hunt for his hidden things.

Danny's willful ignorance of his body as he stumbles farther from FentonWorks doesn’t stop the slight burn of his ectoplasm against the edges of his wounds and the tatters of his hazmat suit pulling on the scabbing blood or the smell. Ancients the smell. It’s rancid, he hasn’t been able to cycle it properly without his normal supply of fresh ectoplasm from the Zone. Only provided in small bursts when his parents wanted to see how his body healed with and without ectoplasm. He can feel the whispers of his terror, anger, grief that’s flowing through his blood.

He had been overconfident way back when he had threatened Vlad with exposing his secret. He had thought they'd love him despite having kept his halfa status from them, he hadn't been prepared for the distrust, the hatred, the way they moved farther and farther from thought out experiments to revenge. Danny knows Maddie and Jack still see him as the quiet, shaken child so desperate to be good, craving acceptance by the eccentric family that took him in when they look at him. If Danny had to guess they had been so blinded in their rage to even realized it was their machine, their failure that made him this way. Now they really did want him dead.

He’s whole somehow, despite their best effort, he just needs time. Ancients, He’s not exactly the monster they pictured, but He's not human... He’s whole.

The thought tastes bitter and Danny strangles it before it can expand. He must be focused. Taking a measured breath Danny turns down a familiar alley, he goes intangible with a slight twinge in his core, slipping into the bathroom of Nasty Burger. He’s done this so many times the familiar path brings comfort, reassurance. Like maybe things will start to turn for the better. Making his way over to the stall Danny debated whether it was worth climbing the toilet or floating up there. No, it was better to grit his teeth and bare it. There were only three containers of ectoplasm in his bag, he needed to preserve what strength he had. He would soon have no way to access the Zone for a refill.

Danny took one hand and placed it on the wall before careful stepping up. Lifting his leg had sent waves of pain across his nerves but with a grunt he leveraged himself up. His vision went black at the edges, he was dizzy, and bile clawed at the back of his throat. Danny took a few breaths, while he might not need to breathe, he’s been human longer than not, and well.. he’s only half ghost so the habit carried over to when he's Phantom. Danny was immensely grateful for his time in the League, the training was brutal, he still has nightmares about dying the first time but.. he did learn how to survive in situations that if he was truly a Fenton, would've killed him many times over. As Danny was Danyal Al Ghul Fenton, he always had back up plans. His Mother had been heavy handed with those lessons.

It was painful to think about Talia. She had been Grandfather’s favored child and the weight of his expectations of his grandsons was enforced by her. Lessons or punishment, very rarely praise was given to Danny by his Mother's hand. Each milestone was meticulously observed and reported back, doubly so for their failures. Tiny bodies with too big of weapons, green and blue eyes, a face mirroring his own but twisted in determination, competition. His older brother, his twin. They were inseparable, until they weren't.

Danny's core throbs in his chest, he wanted to shy away from the thought, yet the inconsolable part of him screams at the injustice of being the only one to escape their Grandfather. If only Danny could've proven himself, perhaps his brother would've had a chance to leave in his stead, but Danny knows just how much he was lacking in comparison to his brother, and it was their skill, or lack thereof in Danny's case, that sealed their fates. Danny was able to avoid Ra's overseeing eyes when they moved off the failure of a Spare and homed in on his true Heir. The grandson who took to their lessons like a duck in water. Deathly beautiful, Danny used to think as he watched his brother dance and fly through his training. Talia couldn't defy Ra's orders but if she just.. misplaced.. the Spare that was abandoned, well, no one has come for him yet.

Danny knows she loved him, somewhere hidden, deep inside his Grandfather's perfect pet assassin. She loved him enough to send him away when it became clear Ra’s saw no need in the Spare that was no longer needed, she had loved him when she had beaten him and left mortal wounds-their only chance to fool Grandfather, she loved him when she had given him his packed bag and left him outside that orphanage in Chicago with lazarus water raging in his veins, and she loved him when she told him to forget.

Forget about the League her and his brother, his family.

With brief tight squeeze to his small shoulder her she told him if he was in danger to find Bruce Wayne and then Talia Al Ghul was gone and Danyal-just Danyal now- was left truly on his own for the first time ever.

Danny was definitely in danger now; his situation was grave and despite everything the pun brought a small smile to his face. He couldn’t go back home to the Fenton's. He tries to forget how he froze in his surprise when he realized his parents didn’t take his reveal as Phantom as well as they had let on. They had smiled and stalled until they had found a way to contain him. By then it was too late, he had gotten too complacent in his run on a normal life.

Only after Ancients knows how long he had been resisting, pleading, screaming-I’m still Danny, it hurts mom please, I’m still me, Dad I’m alive- did Maddie find his core. Too tired to move it away from her gaze any longer and when her fingers brushed it the wave of mind-numbing terror exploded out of him. Something must've been on her gloves because his core burned. It ripped a wail from his throat while he writhed on the table. Ice responded like it never was taken from him by the anti-ghost restraints.

Danny could still distantly feel the ghostly ice that had trapped them in place and shattered his restraints under the pressure the frozen water bursting into existence. Even trapped in his ghost ice they were steadily working on getting out and would be on the hunt for him again soon. He wouldn't allow them to catch him again.

The mere idea they’d be on their way already spurred Danny back into action. Slipping his hand into the wall he grabbed the strap and pulled his bag out, careful to keep it weightless, and slid off the toilet and back down to the floor. He hasn't seen his dagger in months, it hurt too much to practice without Dami, his other half. Here it is though, innocently tied to his bag and his gaze traced it lovingly, before searching inside the biggest pocket for his first aid kit. He didn't have time for stiches, so he reaches for the butterfly bandages and starts to pull the skin together before securing it. It's really the first proper look he gets, it's... unsettling at the very least, horrifying, to see a wound reserved for autopsies on his chest.

The Y incision is inflamed and still bleeding so he carefully follows its path until he's done. Grabbing gauze, he starts to reinforce pad, wrapping a roll of bandages around to hold everything in place. Danny bites his lip and thinks for a moment, he will need stitches, he's been wounded enough in this half-life to know that. The likelihood for his work to stay in place while he flies is less than he'd like. Making a decision and with a mental shrug he takes an ectoshot from the smaller pocket and stabbed it into his thigh before pressing the depressor. Pure energy zapped through his system hard, angerly surges to settle in his chest. Feeling a bit better but more.. wired Danny takes a second to calm. Steeling himself he tries to nudge his core, it responds in a weak pulse.

Danny's body protests, he can feel his muscles shred and reform, his bones twist like taffy, his organs melt together before settling to form his ectobody. It's all over in a flash of bright light, yet the pain felt endless. Overwhelming in its intensity but gone just as quickly as it came leaving Danny sweaty and panting. Transforming injured was tricky, he had to carefully picture where the bandages were, so he didn't lose all his hard work.

Confusion settled as a fog, clinging to his thoughts, making them murky. His hands were covered in blood, his body hurt, and he couldn't quite remember why, there was a siren coming closer. Everything in him screamed to run, to escape, but his hunters were too close now, freed from his ice to kill him fully. On instinct Danny's nails grew to claws, ripping into space to create a portal. He was weak, always had been, but he was good at running, hiding away in the shadows. Ghost was once a name of his, a proud title, not just what he is now.

Just as the doors burst open in a teal and orange blur Danny dove into the swirling green and hoped Clockwork was watching so at least someone knew things had exploded here in Amity. He hasn't needed to be on his own like this since after Jazz first saw him and demanded that her parents bring Danny home with them. He misses her now as the path out of Nasty Burger closes behind him. Danny's falling, dropping towards the ground too fast for eyes to track but his impact had definitely shaken the room. With a pained whine and a flash Danny was back to being human again, his landing had pulled at whatever scab was able to form in the twentyish minutes it took him to drag himself away from the basement. Danny was going to be sick, the sticky cool liquid that had his clothes clinging to him, was going to be very alarming when he finally could give himself a proper once over. He could feel the new bruises as he tried to roll off the pallets he had crushed.

"Oh! Someone decided to drop by! " A man called out with glee as he sauntered in his direction. "Shall we see who our special guest is?" Danny could feel the rotten soul as he got closer. Too close. Forgoing moving Danny tensed in anticipation. He was hurt, yes, but he would go down fighting. He could do that much to make his brother proud, even if he never realized Danny lived to 15 not 5. Before he could uncurl to swing at the man there was the soft sound of fabric rustling and a blade being drawn. Curling tighter Danny hoped he had enough juice to go intangible.

"You will not reach your goal Joker; Do you not get sick of trying?" The voice was smooth, deeper than he remembered but it's been 10 years, it's understandable that puberty changed his brother's voice. Danny would recognize it anywhere. Danny jinxed himself, somehow. How he ended up in the same room as the brother he hadn't seen in a decade, Danny wasn't sure. He was terrified though. Where Damian was the League and their Grandfather wasn't far behind. Damian had carefully hidden away his care as a child but would shower Danny in it in the darkness of their room. After years apart and Grandfather's continued influence Danny was uncertain how much of Damian truly remained.

There was a burst of noise, of movement and a struggle then silence covered the room. Danny's hands were shaking. "Nightwing, first aid is required inside, bring the kit." His brother paused, "No, a civilian, a metahuman if his unusually colored blood is to be taken into account."

Danny could feel his brother's scrutiny, his gaze held weight as it scanned over his collapsed form, he tried to curl more but a hand brushing his shoulder had Danny screaming and scrambling away.

Damian's hands twitched at his side, an aborted motion to draw his sword. He seemed to pause then they flew up empty, placating- it didn't bring Danny any comfort.

An assassin's greatest tool was always their hands. Green eyes tracked him, narrowing at the way Danny was shrinking into the shadows. Dread swam down his spine to settle hard in his gut. Of all the ways to meet his brother again, it had to be when he was dying, for a third time. Danny reached blindly for whatever was next to him to pull himself up, his knees wobbled precariously but he would be standing for this. He had to be. Black spots were now in his vision, but he forced a smirk onto his face. Danny was sure he was a sight to see, torn clothes, skin riddled with bruises, green and red blood splattered all over like a kindergartener's messy painting of Christmas, limp dirty hair.

Danny knows Damian is assessing him, taking in what he can see in front of him to efficiently deal with it as they were trained to do. potential strengths and weaknesses. Behind both the domino mask and his calm exterior Damian is taking in a snapshot. Danny wonders what he sees, if his brother recognizes the boy he’s grown into, Danny’s core thrums wildly and he tries not to fidget. The slight frown that pulls at Damian’s mouth means he caught the aborted motion.

"Damn, green, yellow and red... You look like a traffic light!" He gets one giggle in before he chokes on it. Danny can't breathe. His brother had gone deathly still when Danny spoke. He could see the war of emotions fighting through his brother, suspicion was quickly doused with rage. "How dare she." The Arabic was an unexpected comfort, but Danny felt confusion at the words. He's severely out of practice, he thought he understood but doubt settled in. He wasn't sure.

Damian had always stood firm next to him in the League, calm, driven and decisive, the perfect heir for their Grandfather. He was always warm to Danny though, would allow traces of his true feelings to be visible when Damian would inevitably catch Danny sneaking out of his bed to stargaze. Danny would get scolded, every time. Grandfather would punish him harshly for such indulgences, he knew it. Attachments were weaknesses and Grandfather would not grow weakness in the League, in his heirs. Danny may be weak and the Spare but he was smart. He knows what the looks of distaste meant from his Grandfather. He knew how his failures would catch up to him and how Grandfather disapproved of his influence on Damian. Yet Danny kept going back, hiding in the shadows to gaze at the stars and wait for his brother to come find him.

Danny had braced for Damian to be mad when he realizes Danny didn’t truly die that day and has stayed away from his brother, but Danny couldn’t have expected this.

Pure hatred lights up in Damian’s eyes when he finally realizes what is in front of him. It's Danny’s undoing. Everything else that has happened seemed like a cakewalk compared to being rejected by the person who had always understood him most. Ghosts are the manifestation of their emotions. Frostbite had explained once how injuries can manifest in a ghost's form on their own. Emotional pain could make them unravel down to their cores, until even that disappeared.

For Danny, there was uncertainty, halfas were so rare that there wasn’t much off hand knowledge, but Danny has always known from the second he died. There was no separation between his human and ghost halves. He just was. What fancy wrapping he showed off hardly mattered. Things bleed so easily between them, Danny Fenton and Phantom.

"I'll kill her painfully for this, but you abomination it will be swift." Damian has balanced on his toes, ready for a quick burst of speed. His sword now clenched so tightly in his hands it almost shakes.

An abomination the words looped through Danny's mind. The wounded sob that came forth when he opened his mouth to reply was unexpected. Danny took halting steps back from his twin. The hitching breath brought his attention back to his chest. This wasn't how Danny had pictured this moment, all those years of stolen daydreams. His core felt wrong in his chest. He felt cold, cold and brittle but his chest was on fire-and wet. The surgical cut seeping like its minutes fresh, this was by far Danny’s worst idea, to believe to ever hope, his brother would ever keep a monster by his side Danny was a fool to hope even for a moment-hands hands reaching for him to bring him back, grabbing his arm-

“No! I don't know! No please” Danny gasps as he flails weakly “I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

Damian hesitates again, before his resolve firms, "Danyal-" His name cracks over his brother's tongue. Danny isn't aware enough to unpack the way his brother's face twists in heartbreak the longer he watches Danny bleed. A warm body comes up behind him, blocking him in, he’s crying now, a weakness that he never could smother. "No!" Danny avoids his gaze scrambling to grip onto whatever fabric is in his hands. Danny wants the moment to last but he knows what’s coming. Damian won’t protect him now. His older brother had been steadfast by his side in their childhood, but now… now maybe it was better he’s bleeding out.

Danny vaguely registered the man behind him cutting off his shirt, kit at the ready besides him. Pressure on his wound forces a long high whine from his throat. He wants to shove it away, his hand swatting at it but he missed, and it thuds uselessly on the ground. He doesn't have the energy to try again.

The shock of a hot hand against his face brings everything into abrupt focus. Danny flinches but can’t move, the body unyielding behind him. He sees the room is covered in his frost and ice. Batman and Red Robin are farther back, their feet trapped in the ghostly ice, they had things in hand to try and hack away at the ice trapping them in place.

“Danyal” The pain in his twin's voice has him turning in that direction; his brother was there. For how well they could read each other in childhood Danny had no clue what his brother was thinking now. His twice dead brother, back to only die again at his feet. “Are you destabilizing? Why were you sent here? What does Mother want?”

“What?” Danny can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, even if it hurts, it seems his ice kept his organs in place while he tumbled through his hastily made portal. He must've lost consciousness at some point though; his ice seems to have melted to leaving him fully exposed. “That bitch- She has nothing to do with this- wait. You think-” Danny laughs even harder until he can’t breathe and he’s hacking and spitting up more ectoplasm. He’s pulled more fully against the warm body behind him, his head lulls-oh it’s Nightwing, the blatant concern radiating from the man stings Danny’s eyes and a few tears scatter down his face.

“I’m not a clone Dami, I didn’t even know you weren’t with the League anymore." Danny's speech slurs more the harder he tries to piece sentences together, "I'm sorry I don't know how I ended up here.” Danny is growing quieter the longer he talks- can feel his life draining onto the floor and there’s panic in the air now, Batman had sprung up next to Damian's side. Seemed to say something to Damian before he retreated slightly. Batman was hovering ready to interfere but unsure in what actions needed to take place.

Damian is staring at him intently, looking to match his scars to the one's he remembers. He taps his fingers insistently on Danny's cheek and Danny doesn't fight looking back at him. The fingers linger against the scar hidden behind his hair next to his ear, traces the edges. Damian was the one to give it to him, a training error. He had looked at Danny similarly to how he was now. Fear, regret, panic. Words are being said, they blend together, warp, so Danny just hums in response. Everything is more distant now. Danny's own fear floating out of reach. He knows death intimately, he's not afraid to greet her a third time.

The words became frantic as he struggles to stay awake, and someone was talking again. “-ood to see you though- no tss okay no pain.. mma be cold soon-" Oh. That's Danny. The face he has ached to see for years fills his vision. The shade of green he could never replace. Danny was picked up and hustled out a door into the by Nightwing while a harsh discussion flew over his head. They were in some sort of vehicle now, the door shutting causes silence to blanket the group. His head is in Damian's lap, and it takes a second, but Danny realizes Damian is carting his fingers through his greasy hair. His other hand was holding Danny's, playing with his fingers like he did as children. Danny's vision fills with tears and spills down his face.

"Danyal? Can you hear me?" Damian calls his attention softly, his sweet, sweet brother tries to keep the concern out of his voice, off his face. Once he sees Danny focus on him a trembling smile makes its home on Damian's face. His domino mask is gone, Danny drinks in the unobscured view of his brother. "We'll be back to the Cave shortly, Alfred will attend to you, then you're going to tell me exactly how this happened so I can make sure it never does again." Danny can tell Damian is scared, the minute tremble in his petting only confirmed it. Danny let a smile tug at his lips too, "It's gonna be okay Dami" Danny slurred, he hears Damian insisting they were almost home.

Home with Damian. That was a fool's dream, just out of reach. Danny never indulged in the idea; he wouldn't put Dami in danger by reappearing. But- Danny was with him now, a twitch of his fingers against Damian's proves it. Danny went limp as the Batmobile skidded into the Cave, Damian was a silent statue watching Alfred take his brother away from him. Batman saddled up next to him- Damian should shower and change, whatever it was that changed his brother was making his skin itch- but he couldn't move. His baby brother was in there, dying, again.

"Damian, chum... what was all that?" Damian ignores his eyes itching as tears built, he clears his throat to report- reporting was vital with their nighttime activities, Father needed information to help Danny. He couldn't take his eyes of the little glowing red 'In Use' sign above the surgery door though.

Damian cuts a glance at the man next to him, more Bat than Father at the moment. "Once Danyal is stable, I will give you an explanation Father."

~~~~

I thought of a name, added it to the tags, I'll add a link to the next post if I write one, will tag future posts with 'Keeping It Close To The Chest' as well

much love

~Ren

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resetoaster · 7 months

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I am so glad to be involved in the @malevolentbigbang ! It was such a lovely experience and I got to interact with some amazing and creative people such as Quakergoth (A03) (Writer of the AMAZING fic all of the artworks are based off of), and Strumdunkle (Instagram and tumblr) who also created some brilliant art from this fic!

The fic is: You Shall Walk With Me Tomorrow , Everyone should check it out! I have by now read it more times than I can count.

Image ID's, top to bottom:

ID: An image of warm colours- mainly yellow- Arthur stands to the left site of John, exclaiming "John what are you doing?!". John is standing in the middle, right hand raised to feel at the white mask on his face with a look of surprise. He's wearing a yellow robe, much like the faded figures which surround the two. A hand is pointing directly at John.(edited)

ID: The king in yellow, standing in front of a space scene- the king is looking over their shoulder to the scene behind him which is somewhat fused with his back. There is stained glass in the middle, on either side there is two ghost-like statues reaching up. there are two tables scattered with bottles of whine and fruit. A hand is laying across the bottom part of the image, holding a knife covered with their own blood and a pool of blood forming below the arm. The arm has scars and is wearing a baggy yellow sleeve.

ID: A scene containing a fence, overgrown with trees and grass. In the top left is Arthur shoulder-up, smoking with a speech bubble which simply says "... Oh.", this is cut off by smoke from Arthur in the bottom right- standing in front of the fence- exhaling smoke while saying "I suppose it is".

ID: A mainly blue coloured artwork, John is in a robe and is being lifted by the arms- around about the elbow area- by a figure which cant be seen. He is in purple-like water within a mirror frame and is being dragged down by one regular hand and one faded-out hand. A crown sits on top of Johns head- emitting a blue glow. He has almost next to no expression on his face.

ID: Arthur stands in a pool of water, one hand (left hand) faded holding a cane, with his pinky finger being the only section of it which remains in a form- wood. He's smoking a cigarette with the other hand, the smoke littered with eyes and said hand is drenched in blood. The coat he wears is floating on the pool of water in a circle like motion.

ID: A man stands with mostly warm brown colours. His eyes are covered with smoke emitting from the cigarette he is smoking in his right hand- which is covered in blood. He's got a long jacket, striped waistcoat, brown trousers, orange tie, dark brown hat, off-white shirt, brown hair, and brown shoes- along with a cane. His left foot and arm are gray and whispy- the rough form of the limbs remain the same but there is no finer details. (Arthur Design)

#malevolent podcast #podcast #podcast fanart #john malevolent #malevolent pod #malevolent #malevolent fanart #malevolent big bang 2023

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winter-literature · 10 months

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Warning! ⚠️ A03 Notice as follows:

And now, my personal feelings on this situation:

WOOOOWWW. First, let’s f**k with this plethora of free material from fans and aspiring writers (in other words, free therapy). Second, when the site starts to recover, let’s scam them just to hit everyone while they’re down!

(I have no idea if it’s being perpetrated by the same group, but they are without a doubt kicking users when they’re already down).

*rage*

Don’t get scammed guys, be healthy, live good lives, remember that you can download A03 stories in case of a shut down like this in the future.

#a03 #fanfiction #a03 status #a03 update #stop fucking with my therapy #fan fiction #be aware #caution #scammers #special place in hell

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smolvenger · 2 months

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Dangerous Stubbornness (Caius Martius Coriolanus x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: Life as wife to Caius Martius Coriolanus has its benefits. You married him for stability, protection, and status- not to mention the delights of his bed. You expect to be no more than his dutiful wife. Yet...it seems perhaps there is something more there then all of that....

From @muddyorbsblr's request of Coriolanus with the trope "he flals first."

Word Count: 2954 (oop, she exploded from a blurb)

Warnings: There is smut, NSFW 18+ please refer to Dick-tionary (rougher sex, dirty talk I stole from Ana Huang's books, doggy style, some light dom/sub, voyeurism), a creepy sexual harasser gets what's coming to him, Caius being a grumpy angy babygirl sharko bite blorbo who actually is soft for his wife and is wrapped around her little finger, Reader uses Caius as scary dog privilege. Attempts at accuracy to Ancient Roman culture and characterization but at the end of the day it's about the wish fulfillment and the vibes. Lots of fluff. Grammar mistakes bc i just want to get. This. Shit. Done after the wild two weeks I've had.

Dick-tionary: Smut starts at "Three little words. That was all he needed." and ends at "You felt his breaths from behind you, his touch gentler against your arm." Use to your discretion.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You were never afraid of walking through the streets of Rome because your husband walking behind you would scare all who dared to harass you. You would go about the streets, your veil fluttering on your head, smiling bright in the afternoon sunshine. Caius always had a frown and glare in his eyes that dared any fool to try to cross with you.

The marriage was purely for status- you were a good woman from a respectable family. Yes, that was probably why it was arranged between your parents! They wanted someone with a good heart and reputation, and Caius only wanted a wife to manage his house and give him children. Why should you say no? Not that you were scared of him at all- for he never once was cruel to you. Perhaps curt and blunt on occasion, proud and stubborn- but he never bullied you. With his famous wealth, you would never go hungry. He’d be away in battles and you would be alone and be free to do as you wished for months on end. If he died in battle, you figured, the more the better! You would have his money and the freedom of a widow with the respect of his name. Besides, you weren’t in love with anyone and never thought any suitors would show interest in you.

Such was one walk, early in your betrothal. One fellow had not heard the news or knew who you were and came upon you. Trying to touch you, invite you to dinner or the bathhouses. You kept refusing, he kept insisting.

Then, the braggart leaned over and grabbed your arm.

In about ten seconds flat was Caius, unsheathing his sword, upon the braggart, pulling him by the collar. You shoved him off and ran behind him. The man trembled as if Thanatos stood thundering before him.

“I shall be quick in work and send you to your death-do you understand, villain?”

He nodded, shaking. He already seemed to learn his lesson. You edged forward to your dragon of an intended.

“Please- don’t kill him, there are too many people out watching- just scare him!” you whispered to Caius.

Caius shoved him down. The man shook where he stood and you thought you smelled urine leaking from his bladder.

“If you ever as much as speak this lady’s name-I will kill you.” he threatened quietly.

The man, having learned his lesson, mumbled a whimpering “yes, dominae” and fled.

Since your marriage, and with your new status as a general’s wife, such incidents never happened.

As you peered about one stall in the market, admiring the fresh fruits offered, you smiled bright.

“Oh, how lovely these berries look! So ripe and fresh! Wouldn’t you agree, dear husband?” you asked.

Caius remained frowning, though eyed down the berries. The man selling them looked pale and kept eying the sheathed sword on Caius’s hip.

“They’re fine,” he said. His pride kept him from commenting further on a simple farmer’s wares. But you felt his eyes over your smile seeing them.

Caius lent his coin to buy you some. The trembling farmer scooped up some berries, and popped them into a little bag, and handed it to you. You thanked the farmer and paused to admire them.

You smiled at them, as if they were jewels in your hands. Then you tried a little handful, popping them into your mouth.

“Mhm! They’re delicious! Thank you, Caius,” you replied.

You leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek. He blinked, and his shoulders loosened down from the feeling of your lips. You could have sworn a faint pink was on his cheeks as he continued behind you- not that he dared smile or keep his guard down in public.

You thought it would be another ordinary quiet night. But Caius Martius was many things. Quiet and ordinary were neither of them.

At home, you wanted to rest your feet from all the walking today. Your loom was coming along and weaving it felt relaxing. As you sat, you heard footsteps. Turning around, you saw Caius standing there.

You stood up. “Husband? Is something the matter?”

“...no…” he said.

“Oh…then, what…what brings you here?” you asked.

“I wish only to sit, I have…scrolls to read.”

“This is, er, not the usual room for a man,” you said, taking note of the loom and embroidery, the flowers from the garden.

“I am going to sit and read. In this room,” he said determinately.

Letting out an exhale, you relented.

“Oh- your mother is always right! Your dangerous stubbornness- oh, you are welcome here, Caius, dull as it must be for you compared to a fight with a Volsce…” you teased.

He made no answer. But you sat and weaved. Watching how the lines all came together and became one for the latest project.

Little did you know that his eyes were more on you than on the flimsy scrolls. Seeing your profile and your eyes over the work then the dusty work.

Though as you ate dinner, His eyes were on you, the neckline of your dress, showing your shoulders. Your tempa mesa was presented, eaten, and sent away as was the meal. He moved closer, to sit beside you. You felt him move an arm around you. Speaking to you in soft tones.

As a slave came in to take an empty bowl, you felt him close, he held up a hand. Talking about some silly complaint with the tribunes Brutus and Sicinia. But it was useless- he only wanted to touch your hand, trace it, and bring it to his mouth as his lips ghosted a kiss onto your palm. You took in a sharp breath as he did.

You felt your breaths become shallow and saw his eyes flutter boldly to your chest. He sat beside you, one hand always lying on your thigh.

“What…is this….”

“I only want to enjoy all that is mine- my house, my meal, and my wife.”

With that, he propped you upon his lap as the slave brought more wine. You felt yourself get warm, feeling him on you. Such…intimacy sent your heart aflutter. Though…after plates were cleared before he could tighten his arms to hold you, you slid off. He let you, his blue eyes widening.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you announced softly.

His hand was still on your skirt. As you walked away, the fabric pulled and then slid lightly off his fingers. His hand is still in the air as if still touching you.

You sat down before the vanity. Making sure your face was washed, you removed the jewelry you had. Smiling at how lovely they were. Gifts he still found to give you even though the wedding was some time ago. Gifts he still would give you.

The slaves were still around. They kept fanned cool air with peacock feathers. Played soft music on harps and little reeds and made sure there was always water for washing and kept about.

The door opened, and your heart beat hard as he got inside. You continued your nightly routine, removing the ring and necklace as well as the belt before you. Getting ready to change- and yet…here he was. A shadow in the corner. He walked up.

“Husband! My…I’m not in trouble?” you asked, slightly teasing.

“No…”

The servants all shot a look, he gestured at them to stay. To continue their business.

His arms wrapped around you slowly. Then, he laid his head down, looking at you in the mirror.

“But…I didn’t say I wanted this evening to end…” he breathed, he began to pepper kisses down your neck. His hands running down your arms.

“I said I was going to bed…not to sleep…” you said. Enjoying the teasing and playfulness. How you could still hold this mighty, fearsome warrior like wet clay in your hands.

He whispered into your ear for only you to hear.

“I’m going to burst if I don’t have you now.”

You grinned.

“Then have me,” you replied.

Three little words. That was all he needed.

He tore off your veil to where it flew down, fluttering like feathers. He pulled you in and kissed you. You moaned into it. His hands grew bolder, feeling down your sides. You moaned in response as he slid his tongue inside. You pressed yourself next to him, feeling his desire prod against you.

Then he was on you like an animal starved. At once he began to kiss you, cupping your face, keeping a hand on your back to keep you close. You waved a hand through his short, dark blonde hair. His own were going down to feel all over your skin, though his firey kisses never stopped. The man had a craving for you in the bedroom like no other. Not that you complained about it.

You took his hand and led it to your breast to squeeze.

“Caius…yes…more…” you moaned.

“You want more…” he replied.

“Yes- give it to me…” you asked.

“All of it…”

“Yes…”

“And you will take it?”

You looked into his eyes.

“...yes. I want more. Not like on our wedding night. I want it hard. And rough. I can take it. I will take it.”

At once he threw you upon the bed. Lush with blankets and pillows, rich and comfortable. He walked towards you, eyes filled with lust, his steps slow, his head tilted, but not smiling.

“When I take you, I want you to cry out. I want all of Rome, every plebian, every senator, every person, and every animal and god to know you are mine.

He was on you, feeling a hand on your leg and kissing you. You began to grind against him. The servants blushed and looked about, he gestured to them.

“Stay,” he ordered them.

They stayed.

“I don’t want you dignified. No, wife. Show your loyalty-” he moved his hands through your dress.

“Take off your clothes.”

“If you want me naked that badly- take them off yourself,” you dared.

He obliged.

You let a sound as he roughly reached into your dress and shoved down the sleeves. You began to let a sound, a gasp as it broke open. It nearly ripped it. Shaking, you helped remove his own clothes still on him. Amazed at though his chest was filled with those dark, bloodied scars, the muscles still on them.

He smiled.

“Such a tongue you’ve grown to have on you, delicae,” he said

The music of the slaves continued, as did their fans. Though you could feel their eyes.

Now you were naked in his room, feeling his hands explore all over you, one squeezing your breast as the other spread around your back, wrapping you in, fingers into your skin as if to mark you.

“Then shouldn’t I be punished?” you asked coyly.

He smirked as looked at you. Then he let the last of his clothes fall. Showing his impressive thighs and impressive cock so hard it dripped against his stomach,

“It was everything in me not to take you at that table…then we’ll make up for it…”

He half threw you to the study part of the room. There sat a desk.

“Lean over that desk.”

You obliged, heart beating hard.

“Spead your legs,” he ordered.

You opened your two shaking legs, your wet sex glistening before him.

“Put your hands on the edge,” he ordered in a rasp.

Two shaking hands of yours gripped the edge. He laid your hips up. Then thrust into you at once. You let out a sound. Then roughly, he began to take you. Pounding in, his large cock straining inside you. You let out a sound.

“Yes- yes keep that- you are- you’re mine, you’re mine now- now-say it-say. it.”

“I’m” you cried between his thrusts. “I’m-I’m-your-yours-you- gods!”

He pounded into you with a fury. His own groaning increasing. It was so filthy, so depraved, and you loved it. You had to grip the edge tightly as he pounded into you. Grunting like an animal.

The music from the slaves continued, as did the footsteps from their business. Harps continued on as Caius took you like a whore. You could feel them still watching everything. Wondering if they were frightened, aroused, amazed, disgusted, or all four at once.

He began to growl to you between pounding you.

“So you-”

thrust.

“-never-”

thrust

“-forget-”

He pulled you up by your shoulder to your ear. His voice right next to it, his cock and his voice overtaking you.

“You-”

thrust

“-are-”

thrust

“-my-”

thrust

“-wife.”

He reached a hand, finding your opening between your legs. The bud inside you, swollen and needy and overcome. One large finger began to strum it and you let out a whimper feeling it. His large, long fingers could already play it so easily. He let you down, and you were gripping tight to keep from losing it all. You weren’t going to last long at this rate.

“Caius! Caius please-please-Caius-”

It was already crawling up, the desk thudded loudly, perhaps breaking if it weren’t so thick and sturdy. The slaves would know he was yours and you were his. That only he and you could bring each other this.

“Yes- cum, dammit, wife- cum for me, cum- just cum, cum with me-”

“Caius-caius! I- Caius-caiuscaiuscaiuscaius-” you repeated, feeling it break. Your voice gets higher until you let out a noise, as your climax hits you.

Then with a shout from him, the seed shot forth inside you. You moaned as you panted, catching your breath. He steadily pulled out.

You felt his breaths from behind you, his touch gentler against your arm. One wrapped around you for protection.

“Get her something to drink now!” he barked at the servants.

They nodded their heads and ran off. Caius with one swoop got you into his arms. You felt your breath light, almost dizzy with joy- he hadn’t done that since your wedding when he brought you to this house. You could still feel his strong arms supporting you so easily. He carried you over to the bed, settling you amongst the blankets. One slave brought a cup of your drink, and you sipped at it with both hands. He made sure a blanket was draped over you for a bit of modesty.

“What kindness…I never would have guessed you would have kindness in you…” you remarked.

“I…want to be honorable…” he said quietly.

He waved a hand, and the flushed slaves left, Granting you privacy at last. You saw Caius look at you, then glance down like a shy maiden.

This wasn’t like him.

“What is it?” you asked.

“What is what?” he asked.

“You and your dangerous stubborness! Well I have some in me too. You have enjoyed me. And you wish to speak of something, I can feel it. You can tell me. Is there something you want of me? A son? I’m sure at this rate, you’ll have one…” you urged, a hand consciously at your belly.

Caius tilted his head again, his hand moving you away from yours. But touching it softly.

“It…isn’t that. What I have…you must think it isn’t for a man to say aloud,” he said

“But you must say it! Is something wrong? Are you ill? Is your mother ill? What did Menenius try to weasel you to do? Where are they sending you now!? Caius, Why not-”

He quickly got up and cupped your face. He spoke quick, plain, and to the point.

“I love you.”

You paused your breath tight and the room spinning

“You…love me?”

“Why did I ask my mother to arrange us married?”

It struck you.

“I was…am a virtuous daughter of a respectable family-”

He looked into your eyes.

“I’ve loved you the day I met you. I wanted to have you as my wife or no one. I couldn’t resist you if Diana herself ordered me to.”

Struck silent, you saw his face soften. The orange glow of the candlelight making him that more beautiful.

“When…when did you know for sure…did Eros really strike the moment you saw me ”

“I…I remember it was- it was the race for the senate. All the crowd gathered to see me speak, to see the consul. I tried to ignore you there, and I could not. I was in denial all that time. But seeing you-when you looked at me, and smiled, I forgot it all. I didn’t want the seat. I wanted you. Honestly, I don’t know when it happened. But it did. And yet- all at once I-I-”

He paused.

“Maybe it was when we were betrothed. Maybe I walked with you to the markets. Or when I saw you there. Maybe it was every dull dinner and banquet I had to attend, that I still went, hoping to see you. To just see you…”

He caught himself.

“But no…I think most of all…it was each time I spoke to you. And you knew of me….and now …”

He touched your hand and you brought it to your lips, kissing it tenderly. You almost saw a tear drop despite the stillness of his face.

“I know what I am. And I thought you should hate me. Beyond whatever duty you may feel to me as your husband-”

“Caius, I don’t hate you. Not at all.”

“Then…could you-”

“I could learn to love you, and choose to love you, Caius.”

You pulled your face to his and kissed him. Then you tucked yourself into him, embracing him as you both lay on the bed. Not just as husband and wife, but as two people deeply in love.

#caius martius #caius martius coriolanus #coriolanus #coriolanus shakespeare #coriolanus tom hiddleston #coriolanus x you #tom hiddleston #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #caius martius smut #caius martius imagine #caius martius x reader #coriolanus caius martius #tom hiddleston coriolanus #caius martius x y/n #caius martius x fem! reader #coriolanus play

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toast-tales · 2 months

Text

Cursed Cravings: A retold, g/t story of Beauty and the Beast, with a sinister twist.

When he declines to help a beggar woman, wealthy aristocrat Christopher Penn was cursed to adopt a giant form with a terrible, monstrous burden, and the conditions to break the curse seem all but impossible. When a peasant girl, Danny, agrees to take her friend's place as Christopher's captive, he realizes that she may be the last hope of regaining his humanity and breaking the spell for good.

But who could ever care for a monster like him?

This will be an AU of ITWOM involving some familiar characters like Christopher, Danny, Sam, and Nathan - but you don't have to have read the main story to read this one. Lots of things will be changed around, so for all intents and purposes, these aren't the characters you know.

This story will contain g/t, angst, and soft/safe vore later down the road. It's still going to be a lighter read than ITWOM, but be warned nonetheless! This isn't the Beauty and the Beast story you know from Disney.

Read Chapter 1 below:

Chapter 1: Dark Night of the Soul

Contains: ~2k words | Read this story on A03!

It was a night like many others, the night that Christopher Penn's life was changed forever.

A deluge had begun that evening, torrential rain bearing down upon the land with fierce strikes of lightning and thunder rattling the large windows of the mansion—but all this meant for Christopher and his guests was that they wouldn't be able to enjoy the garden out back, and their merriment was restricted to the large indoor space. The music still swelled and filled the air pleasantly, rising above the sounds of the storm outside and making it easy for the partygoers to forget how unpleasant it was outside the walls of Christopher's house.

The host in question flitted from person to person throughout the evening, engaging in the usual small talk and jokes, an easy and charming smile lighting up his face and those of the people he met with. He was a gracious and charismatic host, always making sure that his parties were the grandest, with his guests never wanting for anything. The people in attendance would speak highly of his events, of the balls and the dinner parties, that he was so keen to host.

On the surface, Christopher seemed rather at ease, full of a charm and grace that would be befitting of someone from a wealthy family. But his actions were all surface level—each word and step he took was carefully choreographed and planned in advance. He was terrified, truly—each person he brought into his home was a potential ally, a potential for advancing his status, but they were also a potential seed to his own destruction.

Christopher had spent every day since his parents had passed rebuilding his family's reputation among the nobility. He could see past their charm—they despised his parents, and in turn, they despised him. His own reputation—the very thing that allowed him to live in such comforts still, to have any amount of power and social standing at all—was fragile and tenuous, and every interaction he had, no matter how seemingly insignificant it was, was an attempt to maintain its strength.

And so, while he seemed completely comfortable in this element, there was a latent anxiety in Christopher, hidden well beneath the surface.

He almost didn’t hear the knock at the door at first, wrapped up as he was in conversation. But his manservant rushed to his side, rather insistently dragging him away.

“I’m sorry, Chris, she just won’t leave without speaking to you.” Sam’s stride was brisk, and they gave Christopher no choice but to follow. He offered a quick and profuse apology to the noblewoman he’d been entertaining before he caught up to Sam.

“You’re not able to send her away?” Christopher hissed, somewhat tersely. “I can’t be interrupted by every stranger that shows up here. I have guests to attend to.”

“Hey, I tried!” Sam insisted. “I’m just one guy, and I also have guests of yours to attend to. She keeps coming back. All she wants is a quick word with you. Just humor her, and she’ll be out of your hair.” Sam ran their fingers somewhat anxiously through their own well-groomed locks. “We can just deal with it quietly, before she causes a scene. Some of the guests near the front door are getting a little antsy about it.”

Christopher sighed wearily as he followed Sam to the main entrance. Perhaps if he had more staff, this wouldn’t be a problem. Most of the house’s staff had left in the fallout of his parents’ demise, with the sole exception being Sam—his personal servant who’d remained as doggedly loyal to him as they had the first day they’d been assigned to care for him. He’d never let on to his guests, but Christopher worked with Sam every day to keep the house in order, even helping cook the meals and clean. He had to keep up appearances as best he could.

Sam pulled the grand front door open to reveal a woman on the other side—a pauper in beggar’s clothes, tattered and rain-soaked, hunched on his front stoop as she gazed up at Christopher.

Christopher stood up straight and directed a cold, stern look towards the woman. He could feel several sets of eyes on him, and knew that there was a group of aristocrats watching the scene intently. He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves idly as he spoke, as if he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to the woman at all.

“I’m afraid you will have to leave. I have no room for beggars here.”

The woman shivered slightly, tilting her head up further to meet Christopher’s face. Her eyes were wide and glassy, her face lined with creases from age and stress. “P-please, kind sir, I only need to come in from the storm for a short while. I won’t be any trouble. I…I haven’t eaten in days-”

The people nearby began to whisper, a touch of disgust coloring their tone.

“This is an exclusive event,” Christopher interjected firmly. “There is a certain decorum that must be maintained. Please leave, or I will contact the authorities to escort you away.”

If he had been at home alone that evening, he might have afforded some manner of small comfort towards the woman. But he couldn’t be seen sullying his hands with the poor here.

A pleading, desperate look came to the woman’s face, her features falling into despair. “Sir, I will not survive the night!” Her voice was hoarse and rough, as if sandpaper scraped against the inside of her throat. “You would turn me away, to the mercy of the storm?”

Her cries had gotten louder—more of his guests had turned to look and whisper among themselves, casting uncertain and hesitant glances Christopher’s way. He didn’t need to hear them to know what they were all saying.

What kind of place is this, where the host entertains beggars?

He is no better than his parents, mingling with such filth.

He doesn’t belong here.

He is not one of us.

He set his jaw and made his stance firm, his dark eyes fixed sharply down at the beggar. He couldn’t let this go on further. “Leave. Your welfare is not my concern.”

The woman’s face became suddenly sharper, each crease and wrinkle fading to a more youthful visage, and her muddy, round eyes transformed to piercing, golden ones. She no longer hunched, but stood straight up, rising to a height that forced even Christopher to look up in awestruck terror.

“THEN YOU WILL HAVE BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS, CHRISTOPHER PENN.”

Her tattered clothes transformed to flowing white robes upon her dark skin, her hair now falling in neat and lovely braids down her back, adorned with gold.

She cast a scornful, acidic gaze towards Christopher as she looked down on him, each fiber of her being radiating with malice.

His heart stopped beating—the entire world seemed to have gone silent, save for the strikes of thunder that almost seemed to accentuate every word this woman spoke. Her voice boomed with an unnatural volume throughout the entire hall. He didn’t need to turn around to know that every single person in attendance had heard.

He did his best to hide the quaking in his limbs. He couldn’t lose his composure, even now. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice escaping as nothing but a whisper.

The woman scowled at him, her expression one of pure poison. He could feel himself withering beneath it, despite all his efforts to keep calm.

“You would not remember me, for the faces you entertain here are simply passing flights of fancy to you. I was your guest, Penn. And I saw past your charm. You use people for your own gain, grasping onto what little power you have like a pathetic child, desperate to rise above your place in the world.”

She pointed an accusing finger towards him. “You have a vile, black heart, so cruel that you would send a woman away to her death when she asks for but a little kindness.”

“Hey!” Sam spoke up, a little timidly beside Christopher. “You can’t talk about him like-”

“SILENCE.” A loud strike of thunder shook the entire house, rattling the foundation and carrying the woman’s voice to the ears of every patron once again. A blistering wind tore through the open door, making the curtains tremble in its wake.

Christopher thought that something seemed familiar about the woman—he felt as though he could recall a conversation with her, and she surely must have been at one of his parties. He searched for a name desperately, frantically wracking his brain for this woman’s identity.

“...Sybil?” he croaked, every ounce of confidence having long since left his body. His knees began to tremble, and he worried that they would soon give out completely. “Y-you may come in, I am so very sorry to have offended-”

“You have already failed, Penn. Now you repent, for you see my true form, and the power I wield.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Your fate has already been sealed.”

The world was swallowed in darkness within only the span of a moment, and the screams of Christopher’s guests and Sam became drowned out by an all-encompassing blackness that surrounded him, choking the air from his lungs, squeezing his ribcage until he thought he would burst from the pressure. He could not speak, he could not move, he could not see. If not for the excruciating pain shooting through every fiber of his being, he would have thought he was dead.

“You will no longer hide behind your tawdry facade. A monster within, so a monster you shall become.”

Sybil’s voice came from all around him, like a harsh winter wind that froze the blood in his veins as it passed over him. Her words had weight to them, laden with something powerful, and far beyond this world’s understanding.

His body was changing, but in what manner, he had no way to tell. All he could feel was pain—pain and a clawing hunger, like an animal inside of his stomach ripping and tearing at the flesh within, desperate to break out. His head throbbed as sounds swirled in his mind, indistinguishable from each other as they rose into a crescendo of noise, and the silence turned to a deafening cacophony. Voices, screams, shouting, but no words he could make out. He thought that he could hear Sam, amidst all the chaos, but he couldn’t be sure.

And then, before the darkness of his vision cleared to reveal the full extent of the horror that awaited him, he was assaulted by the wave of a strong smell he couldn’t place, a scent that filled his lungs and made the desperate animal within his gut writhe and twist in agony. It was like the scent of the finest wine, the most tantalizing food in existence, in such a great amount that it was overwhelming—even though, in those few moments of blissful ignorance, he had no idea what it was that delighted his senses so, that made the pain almost forgotten, that made every bone of his ache with an almost feral hunger.

His eyes opened with frantic urgency, and the scene before him unfolded slowly into a horrifyingly clear depiction of the gruesome fate that had been thrust upon him. He could barely see the faces of the ones he’d invited here, but their frightened screams spoke loudly enough. No words came to his own mouth—he was frozen in horror, like an insect trapped in amber as the weight of what happened sunk in, pressing down upon him like a suffocating, terrible gravity.

Despite his transformation, Sybil’s words rang as clear in his head as they had before.

“Ten years, Penn. Ten years to prove yourself, or this form will be your prison.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Next Chapter ->

Thanks for reading! I hope to update this story semi-consistently, because boy do I have some things planned down the road. So stay tuned!

#cursed cravings #itwom #g/t writing #g/t stories #g/t angst #vore stories #vore writing #g/t vore #gt vore #safe vore #soft vore #sfw vore #toast arts #beauty and the beast au #please click for the full quality of the image LOL #tumblr killed all the pixels and I'm very proud of those pixels :(

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cozage · 8 months

Text

The Daughter's Return: Month 6

Bad Mood

Masterlist | Read this on A03

CW: just one of those days, but Ace tries to cheer you up :) Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1.8k

The meeting had not been going in your favor.

“I’m telling you,” you said, trying your best to keep cool. “We need another division to go with Division Four. It’s too risky.”

“And I’m telling you,” Elmy shot back. “You’re underestimating Division Four. You underestimate every division but your own. Everyone lets you do it because-”

Thatch seemed to have nudged her, silencing whatever she was about to say. But she had said enough. Because you're Whitebeard’s Daughter. That’s what she would’ve said. That’s what everyone always said.

Elmy was always rubbing you the wrong way. She may have been a fellow strategist and Thatch’s personal pick, but she lacked a lot of foresight. She always expected everything to go perfectly. And things never went perfectly in the pirate world.

You looked at Thatch, begging him to take your side. But he stayed neutral.

You sighed. “At least take some members from division two. It will-”

“That’s not your call to make,” Elmy snapped. “You seemed to have forgotten, but you’re not a division commander. Only they can make personnel calls.”

A few eyes widened at her words, and people shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They knew the wrath that was incurred on anyone who crossed you, and they didn’t want to be a part of it.

But you were stunned into silence. You had no witty comeback. You had no angry words. In fact, you had the overwhelming urge to curl up in a corner and cry. Everyone at the table knew what kind of a low blow Elmy had made, but nobody dared to call her out on it.

“Fine.” You forced your lower lip to stop trembling. You couldn’t lose your composure here. “If the Division Four Commander requests assistance, we can go from there and talk to division commanders about additional assistance. Otherwise, you can operate as a solo division mission.”

“Division two is happy to offer people,” Ace immediately said, trying his best to support you. “If you want them, Thatch.”

“Thanks, Ace.” Thatch looked uncomfortable with the situation at hand. He kept trying to make eye contact, but you refused to meet it. “Let me talk to Elmy and we’ll get back to you.”

“Sure.” Ace nodded. “If that’s all, we can plan to meet back in a few hours. I know you guys have to-”

You didn’t hear the rest of his speech. As soon as you realized you were about to be dismissed, you stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind you as you left.

You felt tears coming, which was stupid. You had heard those jabs a million times over. Elmy’s words weren’t special. They weren’t even creative. You weren’t even mad about not having commander status anymore. You preferred Ace in the spotlight, you working to support him. And yet, the tears still threatened to spill out.

They waited until you were in your room, thankfully. You flopped onto your bed, letting out a muffled sob as you cried into the pillow. God, you felt so stupid.

Jinx swatted her paw on your head, and you shoved her away. “Leave me alone, you stupid cat!” you screamed. “I’ll burn you to a crisp, I’m serious this time!”

Jinx seemed to sense your words were an empty threat, because she came back and laid down in front of you. Her amber eyes stared into your soul, and then she did the last thing you were expecting. She began purring.

“That’s not gonna help, you know.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes. “I still hate you.”

Her eyes squinted, but the purring continued.

You continued to stare at her until you heard the door open behind you. Jinx jumped up and raced for the door where her true master stood, and you could hear her purring intensify as she weaved around his feet.

“Hey,” Ace said softly, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“I’m in a bad mood,” you said, your voice still thick with tears. “I just want to be alone.”

You felt a hand begin to rub along your back, massaging your tense body. “Can we talk about it first?”

“No.”

“Elmy’s jealous,” Ace said. “You’ve always known that.”

“I’m not mad about it.”

“Then why are you crying?”

You felt the tears spring up again, and you instantly became frustrated. “I don’t know!” you shouted. “I made peace with just being your strategist long ago!”

Ace’s hand paused against your back. “Just being my strategist?”

“You’re the division commander. You have the final say.” You wiped your eyes and turned your head so you could see him. “I’m just your strategist. Ultimately what I say doesn’t matter if you don’t want it to.”

“But I do want it to matter.”

“Which is great. But what I say doesn’t matter until you decide it does.”

Ace gave a little chuckle, as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “Do you hear yourself right now?” he asked.

Your anger flared up, and your skin began to churn. “Excuse me?”

“Where did you get this insane idea that your ideas don’t matter?”

“Did you not hear Elmy-?”

Ace scoffed. “I sure did. But listen to me right now. What you say goes, just as much as if I had said it. I trust you with my life, with my family’s life, with everything. There’s not a plan you could give me that I would veto. Because we are equal. Do you understand?”

“But-”

“Do you understand?” Ace repeated, staring at you.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, turning away from him. He just didn’t get it.

“That didn’t sound convincing,” Ace said, his fingers jabbing playfully at your sides and causing you to shriek out, your giggles filling the air. “Try again,” he said.

“Okay!” you yelled, trying to squirm away from him. Your tension and anger were gone, replaced with only your love for him. “Okay, okay! I understand!”

“Understand what?” Ace dug into your sides harder, making you kick at him to try and stop his assault.

“We’re equals!” you shrieked with laughter, and finally his fingers stilled.

He laid down next to you, kissing your shoulder, then your cheek, and finally your nose. “I shouldn’t have let you be embarrassed like that in there. I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner.”

You sighed. “It’s okay. It’s a weird position to be in. I’m sure Thatch and his team can do it on their own. I just want him to be safe.”

“I understand that.” Ace wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. “It’s normal to be worried about people you love.”

“I know,” you grumbled, burying your face into his chest.

“And I’m always on your side, okay?” Ace said. “I promise I’m never going to leave you.”

You pulled back, scowling at him. “You can’t promise that. You don’t know what is going to happen in the future. Don’t promise it unless you mean it.”

“I mean it. I’ll never leave you. I love you too much to ever leave.” He paused. “If you want to leave though, I’ll under-“

“I won’t.” And you truly meant it. You couldn’t see a life without Ace. You didn’t want it.

“Guess we’re stuck with each other, then.”

“Till death do we part.”

“Nah,” Ace chuckled. “I’ll haunt you even after I’m dead. Just to keep my promise.”

The thought of Ace dying before you made you stop breathing, and you clutched his chest tightly. “Don’t even joke about that. You’re not dying. Promise me.”

Ace raised his eyebrow. “I thought you said don’t make promises I can’t keep?”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “Ace,” you sucked in a breath. “Don’t joke about that. It’s not funny.”

“Okay okay.” Ace pulled you back into his chest and kissed the top of your head, reminding you that he was still with you. “You can die first. I won’t die. I promise.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. You knew it wasn’t fair for him to promise that, but the thought of being without him made you want to vomit.

A knock came at the door, startling you both.

“Go away!” Ace shouted. “We’re in a bad mood!”

You giggled softly at his comment. He always knew how to make you laugh.

“It’s me.” Thatch’s voice came from outside the door, and you froze. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see him at the moment, even if he was about to leave.

“Oh, then come in!” Ace shouted. You shot him a look, which he completely ignored.

Thatch opened the door just enough to slip inside before shutting it again. Looking at him made you remember the humiliation you had just felt, and made you want to cry all over again.

“Do you hate me?” Thatch asked, looking at you. His eyes were full of fear, afraid of the answer you might give him.

You shook your head and sat up on the bed. “Elmy was right. You guys can do it on your own.”

Thatch’s eyes gleamed with pride. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I was just worried, that’s all.”

“If you have concerns, I want to hear them. I know we’re a smaller division and were not always perfect for the job. If you don’t think that we can-”

“You can,” you said, cutting him and his rambling off. “I just-”

You glanced at Ace, who gave you a nod of encouragement to continue. “I just worry about you, Thatch. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Thatch stared at you for a few moments, and his eyes began getting glassy. He jumped at you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you in a tight embrace.

“I’ll be okay, kid. Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you real soon, okay?”

You returned the intensity of his hug, afraid to let go. Nodding at his words, you tried to blink away your own tears. You had to be strong right now. “You’ll be back in two weeks, right?”

“Two weeks max. I promise.”

“See you soon,” you whispered.

Thatch kissed your cheek, and then opened the door. “I’ll be back before you know it, Your Majesty.”

The old nickname made you smile. It had been a long time since he had called you that, but it still brought back happy memories.

And yet, as you watched him leave, you couldn’t help but feel a little nauseous at the thought of the whole thing. Even if you couldn’t place it, something didn’t feel right. And that scared you.

If only you had listened to your instincts.

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598 @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @aikochan4859 @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707

(if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #cozage #✧˚ace✧˚

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pianokantzart · 3 months

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The One To Blame

A one shot based off this discussion, so I hold @a-la-orilla-del-rio and @istadris responsible.

UPDATE: It has expanded past being a one shot and is now available on A03, (or you can continue reading it here on Tumblr): Part 2 Part 3

______ Luigi hid amongst the jagged stone and brutish architecture of Bowser's castle, thankful for the large collection of self-aggrandizing statues that provided the perfect cover, creating long dark shadows and small cramped corners he could hide in. At the same time, the decor pricked at old memories that he struggled to push aside: bound and frightened, disoriented and confused, dragged by aching wrists to where he and Bowser first met face to face. Luigi would’ve been happy to stay a thousand miles away from The Darklands for the rest of his life, but he couldn't allow his brother to embark on this rescue mission all by himself. Even if Luigi knew for certain that Mario didn't need his help, he wished to do everything in his power to see to Princess Peach's safe return. She had put her life on the line to save him once before, it was only right to do the same for her.

Luigi's head began to ache from unreleased adrenaline as he crept along the edges of the throne room, slowly venturing near enough to hear the group of voices gathered around Bowser. The small plumber tentatively peeked out from obsidian pedestal of one of the statues, and observed the unfolding scene. The King of The Koopas stood at the base of his towering throne of masonry and wrought iron, Kamek at one side, and on his other side Princess Peach, locked in an enormous gilded cage of rose gold, filled with plush pink furniture. She was safe. Unhappy, of course, but unharmed. Luigi allowed himself a quiet sigh of relief.

Bowser was commiserating with a squadron of paratroopers, the most highly decorated of them fluttering at the forefront, eye-to-eye with the king.

"The Prison Ship was forced to make an emergency landing near The Valley Fortress,” the soldier explained with a salute. “Word got back that Mario has disappeared, but he couldn’t have gone far! We'll recapture him soon enough."

Hearing this, Luigi couldn't help but smile. The Prison Ship was where he and Mario were forced to split up. It was where Luigi had no choice but to run for the sake of his own survival and leave his big brother behind. Mario did his best to ease Luigi's fears, swearing his own safety and promising that he'd figure out a plan. It appeared Mario was true to his word, and now Bowser's forces were running themselves ragged trying to track him down. It was as good a spur-of-the-moment plan as any: Mario would hold the attention of The Dark Lands while he– Luigi – freed Princess Peach. They’d escape the castle, regroup with Mario, and find their way back to The Mushroom Kingdom. Simple. Easy. No problem.

The paratrooper proved himself worthy of his position as he remained firm in his saluting position, not even flinching as Bowser began to shout.

"Don't recapture him! Sparing him at all was a mistake! Give the order to kill on sight!" "No!" The harsh voice of Princess Peach, normally so calm and gentle, was startling to hear as she slammed her fists against the cage door. The sincerity in her upset appeared to flip a switch in Bowser's manner, evoking something resembling sympathy. He dismissed his troops, and as they fluttered out of the room Bowser turned to his beloved, hands held out plaintively.

"Peaches! I know it's hard to accept, but this is what is best for us, I promise you!" "Us?!" Peach huffed, struggling to maintain her royal composure. "There is no us! Ever since we've met you have done nothing but try to destroy everything I care about!" "Exactly! we've been fighting each other for so long when we should have been fighting for each other! You didn't even have time to recognize my good qualities, just like it took me so long to finally recognize yours..." He looked almost pitiable, big-eyed and pleading as he kneeled down and held his hands over his heart. "But you'll see! I'll prove to you how much of a match we are. You'll forget those silly, fleeting feelings you had for Mario-" "No! I… There are no feelings, Bowser!" Luigi couldn't help but feel Peach's voice lacked conviction, but he hoped that the draconic tyrant would take her for her word as she continued... "We're friends. Just friends, don't you understand? And Mario doesn't love me either. The only reason he ever accompanied me was because he was worried about his brother."

A strange silence hung in the air. Luigi felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and Peach placed her hands to her mouth in slow realization of the dangers of what she'd just said. Before she could make an effort to undo her mistake, Bowser broke the silence.

"His brother... Luigi," he muttered in a voice thick with revulsion. "So, he's the one Mario told you he was after? And if the gossip that floats between your palace guards is worth believing, Luigi is also the one who first discovered the warp pipe that led to our world."

"Bowser, please don't." Peach begged, "he's my friend too." "Why!?" Luigi couldn't help but cover his ears as Bowser's voice shook the throne room. Smoke poured from his nostrils, his chest heaving with rage. "He didn't train with you! He didn't travel alongside you! He didn't go to the ends of the earth to win you over! All he ever did was jump in at the last second to save Mario!" That final sentence triggered a fresh wave of anger. His eyes flashed red, clawed hands curling in front of him like he was trying to wring an invisible throat. "Mario. I'd have already killed him if it wasn't for his stinkin' brother! I knew he was trouble since he first snuck into my territory... speaking to me like I was an idiot! Telling lies!... Telling me that I... I wasn't good enough for you!" And just like that, his fearsome roars tapered off into the whimpering tone of a spurned teenager. Luigi– backing a little further into the shadows cast by the stone– never felt so confused in his life. Hearing a creature of such fearful, unrestrained power act so hurt over a mere insult was bewildering in and of itself, but Luigi was certain he hadn’t said anything like that. He still couldn't quite remember how that conversation went... the memory was too terrifying to recall between the moment he admitted his brother's name and the moment he was thrown to the floor, but surely he didn’t say that!

Then, beyond the haze of confusion, a new realization dawned on him… Kamek had been awfully silent. Luigi glanced about the throne room, slowly realizing that he had been so focused on Peach and Bowser’s conversation that he didn’t see where Kamek had disappeared to. That was when an innate sense of danger pricked at his heart, and a familiar voice spoke from behind him: “Well well well! Speak of the devil…” On instinct Luigi ducked to the side, dodging a blast of magic that would have rendered him immobile. With equal swiftness, he followed it up with a kick to Kamek’s hand that sent his wand flying across the room. Luigi would’ve congratulated himself for his quick reflexes, had the heavy thud of fast-approaching footsteps not robbed him of all sense of victory.

The struggle was brief. A clawed hand came down, narrowly dodged. Luigi flinched and stumbled as bits of rubble from the damaged statue pelted his face, and that moment of half-blindness was all that Bowser needed. Next thing Luigi knew, a familiar, scaly palm clamped down around his torso and lifted him into the air, squeezing so tight he couldn’t even take a breath.

“Kamek!” Bowser’s voice called. “Yes, sire?” The wizard asked meekly, fixing his glasses and rubbing his sore hand while crossing the room to recollect his wand. “Keep an eye on my bride to be. I have a score to settle” Luigi felt his body jolted about like a ragdoll with every step Bowser took toward the doors leading out of the room. The plumber struggled, kicking his feet and twisting his body, trying to wrench himself free until Bowser’s grip tightened further, and Luigi’s inability to breathe turned into a sharp pain that made him fear being snapped in half. He went passive then, falling limp in hopes of buying himself some time. Head bowed, he stared hopelessly at Princess Peach as the distance between them grew wider. He mouthed an attempt at an apology. The Princess stretched a hand through the bars, as though if she strained against her cage hard enough she could break through and come to his aid. “Don’t hurt him! Please!” she begged. “We’re both royals, aren’t we? Let’s negotiate! Bowser!”

Her words went unheeded. She only had time to call Bowser’s name once more before her voice was cut off by the heavy doors slamming shut, leaving Bowser alone with his new scapegoat clasped tightly in the palm of his hand.

#my writing #Mario Movie #Mario #Luigi #Super Mario Brothers #Super Mario Bros #Nemesis Luigi AU #or at least that's what I'm calling it until a different name comes to mind #might make a part 2 but who knows

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shiorimakibawrites · 2 months

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Matt Murdock / Daredevil Masterlist

Image Credit: kissmegoodbye.net

Welcome to the masterlist for my Matt Murdock aka Daredevil fics. My general masterlist is here.

Posted fics can also be found on A03.

Please let me know if any links are broken or if you wish to be added to the tag lists.

Long Series

Alley Cat

Image Credits: kissthemgoodbye.net / Amber Kipp / Nathan Dumlao

Overall Rating: 18+ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Comedy, Drama Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Secondary Pairings: Foggy Nelson x Marci Stahl Summary: You are a paralegal (and trouble magnet) with an escape artist cat who keeps encountering Daredevil. You start falling in love. Series Warnings: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex, police corruption Current Status: ONGOING

Happy Little Accident

Image Credits: kissthemgoodbye.net / Taelynn Christopher (Unsplash) / Anna Kolosyuk (Unsplash)

Overall Rating: 18+ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Comedy Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Secondary Pairings: Foggy Nelson x Marci Stahl Summary: You are a klutz. You are pretty used to tripping over nothing and embarrassing yourself. But this time has to be the worst. Because this time, this time, you have gotten paint all over Matt Murdock. Your handsome neighbor that you have an enormous crush on. Series Warnings: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex Current Status: ONGOING

Cozy Corners

Image Credits: kissthemgoodbye.net / Greta Punch (Unsplash) / Stephanie Harvey (Unsplash)

Overall Rating: 18+ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Comedy, Drama Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Secondary Pairings: Foggy Nelson x Marci Stahl Summary: You have a problem. You have feelings for two men. The first man is local defense attorney Matt Murdock, a regular at your cafe Cozy Corners, whom you have been pinning over since he first walked through your door. The second man is Daredevil, the vigilante who saved your life during a mugging and has appointed himself as your guardian angel. Meanwhile Matt is wondering how he managed to get into a love triangle with himself. Series Warnings: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex, anxiety, panic attacks Current Status: ONGOING

The Phantom

Image Credits: kissthemgoodbye.net / Zac Ong (Unsplash) / Biswapati Acharya (Unsplash)

Overall Rating: 18+ Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn Romance Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Secondary Pairings: Foggy Nelson x Marci Stahl Summary: You are a ghost. Not literally but you might as well be. Your old life is dead. Because of them, you cannot make a new one. Then one day, in search of food and a shower, you enter an apartment and discover a dangerous secret - the identity of Daredevil. Series Warnings: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex, unwilling human experimentation, physical abuse, verbal abuse, medical abuse, threats of sexual violence, death, threats of death Current Status: UPCOMING, Part 1 - Breaking and Entering is TBA.

Arachne

Image Credits: kissthemgoodbye.net / Andre Benz (Unsplash) / Nicolas Picard (Unsplash)

Overall Rating: 18+ Genre: Friends to Lovers Romance, Comedy, Superhero Adventures Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Secondary Pairings: Foggy Nelson x Marci Stahl Summary: University is hard enough without developing superpowers. Too bad nobody asked you. You were just trying to study when you were bitten by a strange spider. Then things started to get weird. Fortunately, you aren't the only odd freshmen at Columbia University. Series Warnings: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex Current Status: UPCOMING, Part 1 - Metamorphosis is TBA.

Love Is Blind

Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Working Summary: You are a blind attorney who has recently moved to New York from California after a nasty break-up. It's a big change but with your trusty guide dog Luna, you figure that you can handle it. While exploring your new neighborhood, you meet local defense attorney Matt Murdock. And you hit it off right away. Unfortunately your past isn't willing to be left behind. Series Warning (subject to change): Canon-typical violence, explicit sex, ableism, domestic violence, stalking Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - New York, New York is TBA.

The Bonds of Friendship

Rating: 18+ (??) Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Genre: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers Romance, High School Drama Working Summary: You are a teenager who has recently moved to New York City from Colorado with your family. While shopping for groceries, you meet a local teen - Matt Murdock who is at the store with his adoptive mother Anna Nelson. Becoming friends happens fast but the love that grows in your heart creeps up on you. Before you know it, you are in love with one of your best friends. Series Warnings (subject to change): Canon-typical violence, possible explicit sex, bullying, ableism Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - The New Kid is TBA. Inspired by the prompt from @importantnightwerewolf

Full of Surprises

Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Genre: Romance, Drama Working Summary: You had been dating Matt Murdock, a fellow summer associate at Landman & Zack. But summer has come to an end and it is time for you both to return to your respective law schools. You go back to Massachusetts to start your final year and prepare for the bar exam. Only to discover that you are pregnant. Series Warnings (subject to change): Canon-typical violence, explicit sex, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, childbirth Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - Our Last Night is TBA.

Sanctuary

Overall Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Slow Burn Romance Working Summary: You are a doctor with a rather unusual patient. John Doe is blind and badly injured man being hidden in the basement in a church. You have many questions but no one seems particularly interested in answering them. Complicating matters is that John Doe is very handsome. And when he wasn’t brooding or being sullen, he is rather sweet . . . Series Warnings (Subject To Change): Medical inaccuracies, severe depression, grief, mourning, mention of attempted suicide, disability struggles, internalized ableism, canon-typical violence, religious discussions, religious imagery, eventual explicit sex Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - Untitled is TBA.

Keeping Secrets

Overall Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Genre: Slow Burn Romance, Hurt/Comfort Angst, Murder Mystery, Legal Drama Working Summary: Your new boss Matt Murdock is rather mysterious. He regularly shows up to work with mysterious injuries. He isn’t speaking to his oldest friend. And a thousand other little things that all say Murdock is keeping secrets. Big secrets. But that’s okay. Because you have some big secrets of your own. Not least of which is your interview wasn’t the first time you had meet each other. Or who was the father of your son Jack . . . Series Warnings (Subject to Change): Secret child, referenced domestic violence, referenced sexual assault, referenced child abuse, canon-typical violence, murder, eventual explicit sex, legal inaccuracies Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - Untitled is TBA.

Short Series

Cat Man Do

Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Secondary Pairings: Foggy Nelson x Marci Stahl, implied Karen Page x Frank Castle Genre: Romance, Comedy Summary: Matt Murdock is having a bad night. He has been turned into a cat with a blizzard is coming in. Lucky for him, you came walking by. And you love cats. Series Warnings: Animal transformation, idiots in love, unresolved sexual tension, spicy dream (voyeurism kink, office sex, fingering, dirty talk), referenced sexual acts (female receiving oral sex, , fingering, female masturbation, hand-job, PIV sex, office sex) Status: ONGOING

Freaky Friday

Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Genre: Drama, Romance, Comedy Working Summary: You are a journalist. One night when you are walking home, you stumble across Daredevil fighting. The criminal shouts something while throwing a beam of light at you. Daredevil shields you but it doesn't appear to do anything to you. Until you wake up the next morning not in your own body but Daredevil's. Series Warnings(subject to change): Canon-typical violence, possible explicit sex, mild body dysmorphia, disability struggles, sensory issues, anxiety, panic attacks Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - Random Encounter is TBA.

A Romantic Cliche

Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Genre: Romance, Drama, Comedy Working Summary: It's a plot straight out of romance novel and you would know - you write them for a living. Your sister is getting married. Naturally, she wants you to come to New York and be her maid-of-honor. No one warned you that the best man was devastatingly handsome. But nothing could prepare you for the strength of your desire. Thankfully, this intense desire doesn't appear to be one-sided . . . Series Warning (subject to change): Explicit sex Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - Meet Cute is TBA.

The Broken Hearts Club

Overall Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn Romance, Superhuman Adventures Working Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and you’ve been feeling morose all day. Granted, you’ve been feeling morose since That Day. Then you found the ring your boyfriend had been planning to give you before that terrible day . . . You don’t know why your feet led you to Fogwell’s Gym nor why your fellow vigilante Daredevil was there. You just know that you started off sparing with each other and ended up having sex. Not for the last time. Soon the sex became a regular thing. But you weren’t worried about anything else changing between you . . . after all, it’s just sex, right? Series Warnings (Subject To Change): Canon-typical violence, explicit sex, permanent character death, temporary character death, grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - Untitled is TBA.

A Fragile Thing

Overall Rating: 18+ Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Romance Working Summary: You just discovered that you are pregnant. Just as you were about share this news with your husband Matt Murdock, he suddenly collapses and dissolved into dust. You do your best to raise your daughter alone and not to give up hope that you might get your husband back . . . but that gets harder as each year passes . . . Series Warnings (Subject To Change): Temporary character death, grief, mourning, pregnancy, single parent, original child characters, flashbacks and dreams involving explicit sex Current Status: UPCOMING, in the planning stages, Part 1 - Untitled is TBA.

One-Shots

Humor

Dicta (drabble): Matt and Foggy are studying for their law exams when juvenile humor ensues.

The Thing That Speaks For Itself (drabble): Matt names a cat.

Fluff

Will You Be Mine?: You have been nervous since Matt said he had something important to ask you.

Baking with Love: Matt and You make pumpkin bread and cookies. Matt Murdock x Reader. Written for Mandy’s Sweater Weather Challenge.

Stormy Weather: It was a dark and stormy night when Matt returns home with a surprising rescue. Matt Murdock x Reader. Written for Mandy’s Sweater Weather Challenge.

Hurt/Comfort

Flare Up: You wake up with an asthma flare up along with a cold. Matt takes care of you.

#masterlist #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #image description in alt #ongoing fic #upcoming fic #frequently updated

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